#then canucks breaking my heart

[silveredsticks]

x

x

[sedinsinshootouts]

i havent thought it in a while but man . this team really is cursed

[sunsetchicane]

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 

“Thank God you actually showed up.” 

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 

“You think?” 

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter six:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: nsfw (masturbation (f. receiving), praise kink, fingering, dacryphilia, overstimulation, softdom quinn).

➴ word count: 4.6k

💌 from me to you: i’m sorry if this is terrible. wrote a line and then took a 30 minute break every time but hey! i’m trying my best!!! also thank u soooo much for 300+ followers i love all of u so much i hope u can feel the forehead kiss i’m giving u rn 😚 enjoy!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

THE ARENA was packed with people, most of them wearing the Canucks jersey.

It was game night, and Quinn made sure you and Victoria had tickets, with the view you had asked for— perfectly near the Canucks players.

“Brock looks amazing,” Victoria whispered in your ear, and you giggled. “No, like, seriously.”

You wanted to tell her that you weren’t looking at anyone but Quinn. He was standing there, wearing his jersey and throwing the puck around while skating with Miller by his side. He looked stressed, but you knew that he always got anxious before a game.

You debated a lot about coming or not, even if Quinn had been the one to invite you and even if you weren’t exactly known for telling him no. But lately, every time he texted or called, you felt your hands getting sweaty, your heart beating faster and your stomach filling itself up with butterflies.

Everything that you swore you would never let happen again.

“Do you think they’ll win?” Victoria asks you, shoving a handful of popcorn inside her mouth.

“They’re on a winning streak so maybe?” You shrug. “I’m terrible with sports.”

“Ain’t that right,” she laughs. “The only thing that makes hockey interesting are the hot players.”

“And the fights,” you add, munching on your Snickers bar. “I love when they take off their gloves and start punching each other.”

“To me that also categorizes as a hot thing.”

“Fair point.” You nod.

The game went by in a blink of an eye, which surprised you. You thought that because you weren’t really interested in hockey, it would suck to sit there for two hours and watch men skating around, throwing a puck here and there. But by the end of it, you were sweaty and tired from all the screams you let out whenever someone from the other team got in the Canucks way.

You and Victoria got out of your seats, chatting about the game and how happy you both were because the Canucks had won 4-2. Quinn had scored two goals and you were ready to engulf him in a bear hug.

“I think they’re changing but we can wait at the VIP section,” Victoria suggests, walking you through the place like she owned, which was one of the things you loved the most about her; her confidence. “I hope they have snacks and hot dogs.”

“It’s a VIP room, baby, not a restaurant,” you laugh, secretly hoping for the same.

“Either way, I hope there’s food there, I’m starving.”

“We just ate a bowl of popcorn, chocolate and a family sized bag of Ruffles.” You point out, patting your belly over your shirt. “Plus the Coke.”

“It was diet, so it doesn’t really count,” she taps her temple with her index finger. You laugh, doing the same. “Girl math.”

The VIP section was, in fact, full of food. And drinks. And players' wives, girlfriends, families and friends. You felt like a fish out of water but sucked it up either way, texting Quinn and telling him you were waiting for him.

It took a while for him to get there, thirty minutes to be precise, but you knew that the games’ after hours weren’t exactly a chocolate covered strawberry, and with Quinn being the captain, he had to answer dumb questions and talk to interviewers.

But then, Garland opened the door and started yelling about the winners being in the area, which made you laugh.

“Hey, there, cutie,” he smiled at you, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. “Missed that pretty face. Did you see me out there? Nailed it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile awkwardly. “Congratulations?”

“Boo, you didn’t even try to sound excited.” He childishly pouts, poking your cheeks.

“That’s because you’re not exciting, C,” Quinn’s raspy voice fills the air, and it’s almost palpable how all the attention in the room immediately goes to him. “Get your hands off her, come on.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” He kisses your cheek before leaving you alone, dragging Victoria with him.

You don’t even think about helping her because all you can see is Quinn standing in front of you, wearing a burgundy suit with his wet hair falling down his face. He looks so fucking good.

Cocking your head, you smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Cap,”

“Hey there, Mads,” he leans down, kissing your cheek lightly.

You think for a second before standing on the tip of your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hand find your waist instantly, like a magnet.

“Congrats on the win,” you whisper, not really wanting to let go. “You played really well.”

“Yeah?” He whispers back, pushing you away just so he could see your face. He smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, letting him go. Looking around the room, you notice that some people were staring at the two of you, and you blush. Right, you remind yourself, we’re not alone. “Hum. Wanna go eat something?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” he shrugs, looking around. “At home, though.”

“You’re inviting me over?” You chuckle, running your fingers through your hair.

“I am, yes.” He nods.

The little Madisons inside your brain start running around, pushing the danger button again and again while yelling “abort mission!” to each other, but you’re still human, and weak in the flesh.

“We can pick Bella up, if you want,” he offers, putting his hands inside his pockets.

“There’s no need to, she’s at my neighbor’s house,” you tell him. “She befriended Buttercup, Mrs. Fernandez cat, and now she asks me to let Bella stay there whenever I have to come home late.”

“Smart girl, isn’t she?” He checks the time on his watch, and makes a tsc noise with his mouth. “If we go now we’ll still catch my favorite pizza place open.”

“Greasy pizza for dinner? Isn’t that all models’ dream?” You joke, watching as he laughs softly.

“Quinn,” someone calls him, making him frown.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he sprints to the other side of the room, talking with another man wearing a suit.

You could see Victoria in the other side of the room between Garland and Boeser, looking like she was having the time of her life. She looked like the ice cream part of an ice cream sandwich, the thought making you cover your mouth with your hand to hide your laugh.

Quinn really didn’t take long, walking back to you and placing his hand on your lower back, like he always does.

The drive to his place was long and tiring, but you managed to make it faster with your remarks about the game. And Quinn listened to you, replying only when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t continue speaking.

Quinn’s house was still the same as the last time you’d been there, which felt like a lifetime ago. The three bedroom house was still only furnished with basic furniture, no pictures besides one with his family from when he got drafted.

“Can I shower while you order the food? I think I’m disgusting.”

“Not really. You still smell like a vanilla sundae to me, but sure.” He answers mindlessly while he taps on his phone, probably dialing the pizzaria’s number.

You shower in the same bathroom you showered the last time you’d been there and when you leave, you find Quinn’s clothes on the bed, also like last time. You smile, putting on his weirdly oversized shirt and boxers, leaving the shorts exactly where they were because you knew that they wouldn’t fit you anyway— and the shirt covered Quinn’s new boxers just fine.

You walked back to the living room, finding Quinn standing in the middle of it, with the TV on, watching the game from just hours ago.

“You played well,” you start, sitting on his couch with your legs crossed.

“Thank you,” he smiles, pointing at the unopened red wine bottle sitting on his coffee table. “Thought we should celebrate.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we should!” You jump out of the couch, headed to his kitchen cabinets looking for wine glasses. “Uh. I just remembered I don’t know where your things are.”

You open the cabinet either way, mentalizing that it shouldn’t be so hard finding two glasses of wine. Only to hear Quinn’s low chuckle, and his body behind yours— his right hand holding you down by your waist and the other one reaching for the glasses inside the cabinet on your left.

“I like to keep them out of my own reach,” he jokes, but you don’t even think about laughing.

Not when his crotch is perfectly aligned with your ass, his hand hot and steady on your waist, his hard chest brushing your back. It’d been brief, only enough time for him to reach the glasses and pick them up, but it’d been enough for you to feel all over the place again.

“Maddie?” He calls you, and you realize you have been standing there for a few seconds now.

“Oh, right,” you smile awkwardly and walk back towards the living room.

While Quinn poured both of you wine, you contemplated what you should do.

Well, fuck my childhood best friend isn’t a thing I should do, you remind your stupid brain, who sometimes liked to conjure images of what fucking Quinn Hughes would look like for you.

The risk of fucking everything up was high and the risk of falling in love with him was even higher. Quinn wasn’t a hard person to love, and with the way he treated you? The way he was ready to hand you anything on a silver plate? It would be like breathing underwater. Impossible.

Thankfully, your mood didn’t take too long to recover, and after an entire bottle of wine and three slices of pizza, you were back at it.

“The worst thing is,” you started, helping Quinn tidy the kitchen and putting away the dirty dishes. “One of the girls sitting next to us was extremely obsessed with you. I swear, she spent the entire two hours shouting your name even when you weren’t there.” You laugh, remember how Victoria threatened to smash her head against the glass.

“I get that a lot and I already told you, I don’t get the appeal,” he shrugs, placing the remaining pizza slices inside a container and tossing it inside his fridge. “Plus, I’m not interested in puck bunnies. They’re not really my thing.”

You gasp, making Quinn stop what he was doing to stare at you. “Does Quinn Hughes have a type?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You do!” You gently place the wine glasses inside of the dishwasher, closing it afterwards. “What is it?”

He laughs, closing the fridge door. “Madison, I don’t have a type.”

“Of course you do. So that’s why you’re one of the few hockey players I know that rarely makes it to dating gossip websites.”

“You’re being insane.”

You shush him with your hand.

“Let me think,” you tap your chin with your index finger, really putting your brain to work. “Okay. Maybe you’re like Jack who’s into musically inclined blondes?”

“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “And since when does Jack—”

“Okay, then maybe you’re like Luke and like frat girls?”

“That doesn’t even sound legal. I’m twenty five.”

“You’re twenty four, we’re not in October yet,” you remind him, trying to think of other types of girls. “What about redheads—”

He gently places his hands on each side of the counter, locking you in place. He cocks his head. “Why is it so important for you to know who I’m into or who I’m not?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you bite your tongue, contemplating what you were about to say. But fuck it, right? You could blame it all on the alcohol later, even if you weren’t even tipsy. “Perhaps fifteen year old me would like to know if she’d have a chance with you.”

He frowns. “Fifteen year old Madison? Not a fucking chance. You were a child.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes. “If you don’t think I’m pretty just say that.”

He rolls his eyes again, mimicking your action.

“I didn’t say that,” he clicks his tongue, blue eyes looking down at you, moving around your face. “Ask me what I think about twenty-two year old Madison.”

You gulp, tilting your head back and staring at him in the eye.

Danger, mayday, Madison, get the hell out of there.

“What,” you whisper, licking your lips mindlessly. “What do you think of twenty-two year old Madison?”

“I think you’re perfect,” he whispers back, stepping closer to you, forcing your head to tilt back again so you could maintain eye contact. “I still think you’re the sweetest person to ever walk on Earth, and I’m going insane over the fact that you’re this close to me and I can’t fucking move a finger.”

His statement shocks you, making your eyes double in size. “Quinn—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Ever since you got back here, ever since I saw you again after fucking seven years,” he steps away from you, running his fingers through his hair in a frustrated move. “You’re— God, you’re everything and you don’t even realize it.”

“I— Well,” you stutter, not even sure of what you could say. Hey, funny story, I want you to kiss me, like, right now.

“You wear my shirt like you’re proud to, you kiss my cheek every time we say goodbye to each other, you drive me absolutely crazy because I know you don’t care about yourself enough,” he calls you out, and you look somewhere else, embarrassed. “But the worst part is watching other guys lick the floor you walk on and not being able to do anything. The even worse part is looking at your lips whenever you wear those glittery lipstick things and not being allowed to kiss the hell out of you.”

“Quinn,” you breathe, leaving the kitchen like you couldn’t stand there anymore, pacing around his living room back and forth. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. We cannot—”

“We cannot what?” He walks towards you, only stopping when you’re toe to toe with each other. “Tell me you don’t want this, Maddie, and I’ll stop. I’ll pretend I never said anything and we’ll just be friends. But fuck,”

“We can’t do this,” you shake your head. “We’re friends. We cannot ruin everything just because we want to fuck each other.”

He smirks. “I never said anything about fucking.”

You feel your cheeks getting warm, and you bite your lips, hiding a smile.

“This is a bad idea. You know that, right?” You whisper, placing your hands on his chest. “Like, a really bad idea.”

“We’re both grown and it seems that we both know what we want,” he mumbles back, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and holding your chin up. “Do you want this, Maddie?”

Realistically speaking, you’ve been wanting this ever since you realized you could like Quinn as something more than just your best friend. You’ve been wanting this ever since you realized that no one would ever treat you as good as Quinn did. You’ve been wanting this ever since you saw him again for the first time in seven years, looking gorgeous and extremely, dangerously hot.

You do want this, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else. But things could get complicated and… losing Quinn wasn’t something you were interested in doing.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper, watching as his chest goes up and down beneath your palms. “I can’t lose you. If this goes wrong, then, then—”

“Madison,” he kisses your forehead, interrupting you. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” you confess. It was true, and even if you lied, Quinn knew you like the back of his hand.

Or at least he used to.

You weren’t prepared for how his lips would feel against yours. Or how he’d place his hands on your lower back. Or how his kiss would feel urgent and needy, making you whimper inside his mouth. Quinn kissed you like he was hungry for something only you could give him, making your knees weak and your breath quicken, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft under your touch.

You ran your hands through his hair, moaning with pleasure because you had finally gotten what you wanted. And just like your predictions, his hair felt soft, with you gently running your hands through his scalp.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air and resting your forehead against his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumble, inhaling his sandalwood scent. “We’re friends, Quinn.”

“I know. And I still want you just the same,” he grips on your waist, hard. You were sure that it would leave a mark on your skin and just the thought of it made you go crazy. “And there’s no going back now, baby.”

The pet name slipped past his lips, the lips you’d kissed so bruisingly just a few seconds ago, making you whimper involuntarily. The wetness between your thighs was just a tiny hint of how much you actually wanted him.

“Let me help you out, hm?” He kisses your lips again, his stubble scratching your face lightly, making you remember where you were, what you were doing and with whom. “Let me make you feel good, Maddie.”

“Please,” You plead, trying to even your own voice. You sounded needy and helpless, but you had too many things going on inside your head at the same time for you to actually start acting like yourself again.

He only hums in response, showering your face with kisses while he guides you to his huge, brown couch. He sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

“If you want me to stop, Maddie, just tell me, and I will,” seriously, he reminds you, kissing the tip of your finger. “I don’t care how much I’m enjoying what we’re doing, if you want me to stop, you say so.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, nodding with your head.

He mimics your action and moves on with his hands, removing your— his— boxers, slowly pulling them down, until they meet the floor with a soft thud. Then he helps you remove your legs from the holes, the right first and then the left, his big, warm hands on your thighs making you feel wetter.

He pats the spot between his legs, silently asking you to sit there, with your back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

He gives you goosebumps as he slowly trails a path down your neck with his lips, making a wet sound whenever his mouth touches your burning skin. His hands keep going up and down your thighs, slowly lifting your— again, his— shirt to expose half of your belly and your most intimate part for him.

“Place your heels on the edge of the couch, pretty.”

You couldn’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment as you did what he said, sliding your feet apart until your legs were spread wide apart. Sex had always been something boring to you and you preferred to do anything else other than let a guy fuck you.

But with Quinn things were already so different. You felt close to him, not only because you were literally on his arms, sitting between his legs, no. Truth be told, Quinn already owned your heart, and getting him to touch you like this was heavenly, but also extremely embarrassing.

You moan as his right index finger runs up and down through your slit, barely touching your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his whispers, voice filled with desire, making you shiver inside his arms. “Who got you so worked up?”

“You,” you breathe. “You did, Quinn.”

“Mhm, that’s right, aren’t you just so sweet, baby?” He chuckles, inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, only to have his left hand holding them apart. “Do you think you’re sweet all over?”

“Quinn.”

He thrusts his finger inside you, finding your spot almost immediately, the wet sound of sex helping the blush on your face grow. Then, after teasing you for a while, he removes himself from you, bringing his index to his mouth, licking the wetness away.

Your face was burning, you wanted to run away and never come back, and it was even worse when you caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You are,” he whispers, tightening the hold on your thigh and inserting his finger in your hole again, only to take it out after a while. “See it for yourself.”

You were going to die. That was it. Here lies Madison Carter, the girl who thought she could handle Quinn Hughes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he instructs, his raspy tone reaching your ears and making your stomach warm. You slowly part your lips, wrapping them around Quinn’s finger, tasting yourself for the first time in your life. And maybe it was just the power of his words inside your mind, or maybe you were too horny to think correctly but if you closed your eyes and searched inside of your taste buds for a minute, you’d actually see that— it was, indeed, sweet. “Good job, baby.”

You whimper around his finger. Quinn slips two fingers inside your pussy, with little to no resistance with how wet you were. His fingers start up a quick finger fucking that echoes wetly in the living room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cheeks wet with tears you didn’t even know you’d shed.

He’s fast, his palm touching your swollen, needy clit every time he thrusted his fingers into your hole, making you moan loudly, not even caring about the late hours. Your left hand grabs Quinn’s left arm, probably hurting him with how strongly you were holding him but you didn’t care—

You had always been easily overwhelmed and with how much Quinn had teased you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Quinn, I— fuck,” your words get interrupted when you feel a third finger trying to get past your tight entrance, a loud moan coming out of your mouth when it succeeds. The stretch making your pussy hurt so freaking good, tears decorating your face like paintings in museums.

Quinn curls his fingers inside of you, making you slightly lift your hips, surprised with how much pleasure he could give you with just three fingers.

“I’m close, oh my god, Quinn, I’m—” overwhelmed with thoughts of QuinnQuinnQuinn, you sit back on the couch, once again trying to close your legs, and, once again, being unsuccessful.

“You can take it, baby, come on, give me what I want.” He shamelessly opens your legs more, thumb sliding left to right on your clit, making you gasp and whimper incoherent words, babbling nonsense that not even the smartest people in the world could comprehend.

When you came, it was like all of your worries went away, the weight in your shoulder ten, a thousand times lighter. You were crying and you probably looked like a mess, but thinking that Quinn’s responsible for getting you like this only makes you happier.

He didn’t stop fingering you, though, overstimulating your clit until the very last minute; until he had you crying loudly and screaming in his arms.

“Sh, baby, you can take it,” he kisses your wet cheek, slowly stopping his fingers. “Tell me, baby, you can take it.”

You hiccup, trying to hide yourself inside his arms.

“Say it, sweets, and I’ll let you go.”

“I— I can take it.” You whisper, voice hoarse and tired.

“Good girl,” he removes his fingers from your pussy, promptly sliding them inside your mouth, again. You didn’t need instructions this time, you just did what you knew he wanted you to, licking his fingers clean until there was nothing but your saliva on them. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts your head to the side, kissing your lips and brushing his tongue against his.

“How are you feeling, love?” He asks after he breaks the kiss, calmly covering you with your shirt again, wiping your tears away with his left hand.

Love.

“Like I’m made of cotton candy,” you smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder. You can feel his body moving as he softly laughs, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sleep here tonight,” he offers, and kisses your cheek again. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Well, I don’t,” you chuckle, remembering that you had to be up early in the morning. “Besides, I have my daughter waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, nodding. “Fair point. Then let me take you home?”

“Yeah,” you agree, only to snuggle closer to his body. “Let’s go.”

You end up napping for about thirty minutes before he wakes you up and hands you another change of clothes, helping you change before he wraps his jacket around you and places a Canucks beanie on your head.

“You can never be warm enough.” He says before opening the door, letting you leave first.

On your way home, inside the warmth of his car, you thought about what this would mean to your friendship. Friends with benefits sounded childish, icky, and not something you were looking forward to. And you weren’t lying to Conor when you told him that you weren’t looking for someone.

Even if that someone was Quinn.

“I can hear you thinking.” He jokes, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I just— how do we act now?” You finally say, turning your head to the side and watching his side profile.

“You told Conor you aren’t looking for anyone right now.”

“I did.”

“Well,” he starts. “I’m not saying this because I want you to make a decision or anything like that. But,” he sighs. “I’m not the type of guy who will make arrangements to fuck you during the weekends and move on with my life on the week days.”

You frown. “I don't want that…”

He chuckles. “I know you don’t, baby.”

“But I don’t want a relationship now either. I don’t think I’m… ready.”

This wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have inside a moving car, but oh well. It was too late now. Besides that, you trusted Quinn and you wanted things to be as clear as water between the two of you.

“We don’t have to date,” he adds before parking in front of your building, turning the car off. “What I meant is that I don’t share. If you think we’re better off as friends, then I’ll respect that.”

You blink slowly, tired.

“I don’t… I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you you ruined the dating experience for me,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, smelling his cologne on the jacket you were wearing. “I’ve only had two boyfriends before you. And honestly, I’m not interested in sharing either.”

“We can take it slow then, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead, poking your cheek after. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You wanted to tell him that you had been the one waiting all these years, even if unconsciously. But you had already embarrassed yourself enough for the week, so you just gave him the tiniest, shyest peck on his lips and smiled, leaving the car after wishing him a good night.

Later, while you cuddled Bella and talked with her about your day— leaving the naughty parts aside, of course—, you let yourself dream about what a relationship with Quinn would mean.

Even if you knew that if he really got to know you’d become, he would get tired of you in a second.

“One day at a time, right, baby?” You kissed Bella’s head, letting your exhaustion win.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[quintinh43]

How It All Began | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns family finally finds out that Him and y/n are together. Featuring our local B.c. boy, the one and only Mat Barzal. Based loosely off of this.

Parings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None I think. Maybe some anxious feelings. Part of this universe but can be read as a stand alone.

Wc: 5.7k

-

The door clicks shut, breaking your focus and signifying that Quinn is home from practice. As he passes by the couch, he drops a kiss to your head, ruffling your hair as he goes. "Hi baby," he murmurs quietly, not wanting to disturb you while you mark math tests. 

"Hi Q," you say off-handedly, grimacing as you circle another question in red and write down the correct answer. This poor kid is going to need some extra help. You quickly scan your attendance list and put a star beside his name. 

Quinn busies himself by taking a quick shower and cutting up some fruit as a snack before he flops on the couch and pillows his head on your thigh. Your fingers automatically delve into his hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly. He lets out a contented sigh as he snatches the TV remote and navigates to YouTube to play some sort of educational video that will make his brain work. 

Occasionally, he holds a piece of fruit up for you, and you take it without hesitation, often catching his fingers between your teeth playfully. Halfway through a video about Moser's circle problem, he pauses it and takes the pen and paper from your hand, setting them on the coffee table neatly. 

"Sorry to disrupt your marking, babe," he says softly, holding up a strawberry for you in a sort of apology, "I have a question for you." His tongue darts against his lip in a nervous habit as he awaits your response.

"All good, baby; I could use a break anyway." You smile, happily taking the slice of strawberry into your mouth. You lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his nerves, "What's your question?"

"Will you come to Michigan with me this summer? I know you usually say no, but now you're my girlfriend, and I don't wanna spend the summer without you. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna, and I won't push, but it'd really mean a lot to me to have you there and-" 

Your smile grows as he rambles, and you cut him off with a kiss. "Yes, Quinn, I'll come to Michigan with you this summer and for every summer after that, as long as you'll have me,"

The smile Quinn gives you is dazzling and filled with love, "for the rest of our lives?"

"For the rest of our lives," you confirm, sealing your lips over his in another sweet kiss. You pull away for air, smoothing his hair down with a smile. "Now make yourself useful and help me mark these tests," you say nudging him into a sitting position.

"Tyrant," he mutters, though he can barely keep the smile off his face. He splits the remainder of the stack of tests in half and slides a pile over to you. You give him the answer key, already having memorized most of the answers and the two of you work comfortably side by side. After the stack of tests is marked you hand Quinn your trusty sticker book, and he lights up as he takes it from you, he places a sticker on each test with such care it makes your heart melt.

The remainder of the evening passes by in the blissful peace of each other's company, and soon the two of you are curled around each other, fast asleep on the couch.

-

The months fly by as the weather grows warmer, and the canucks are in the playoffs. It's a bit of an adjustment, dealing with the chaos of the end of the school year while Quinn captains a playoff team, but if the pair of you are good at anything, it's adapting to what life throws at you. 

Soon, hockey season is over, and it's the last day of the school year. Honestly, you are just as happy as the kids. The day flies by in a whirlwind of fun, and soon enough, you're hugging your students goodbye and promising you'll visit them in their class next year. You'll never admit it, but it makes you feel a little emotional every time.

Quinn picks you up from school with a bouquet of flowers and two slices of pie from the shop downtown that the two of you reserve exclusively for special occasions. Quinn leans over the center console and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, turning you to putty in his arms. 

"Happy last day of school, Ms. Y/l/n," he smirked, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your cheek. 

You can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, and you lace your fingers with his as he drives to Prospect Point. You pick a place on the sea wall for the two of you to sit and prepare to feast on the pie. 

"To the best summer of our lives," Quinn grins, tapping his pie against yours. You smile, your heart full, and you dig in.  

"How do you know it'll be the best summer of our lives?" You tease, watching the boats on the water. 

"Because for the first time," Quinn murmurs with a grin, taking your chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make you look at him, "we'll be spending it together," he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close. 

"I love you, Quintin," you hum with a smile. 

"I love you too, Y/n," he leans against you, and you thread your fingers through his hair as you watch boats drift along the waterline, lit by the glow of the setting sun. And at that moment, everything was right in the world. 

The sun disappears over the horizon, and Quinn wraps his arm over your shoulders as you walk back to the car, "we gotta get you packed," he mumbles against your hair. 

"Ugh, don't remind me," you groan. "I hate packing,"

"Well, I already told you you could bring a small bag and I'll take you shopping when we get to Mich, but somebody didn't like that idea," he sasses, nipping at your ear. 

You flick him in the nose, scowling, "Shut up,"

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. 

As soon as you get home, Quinn wastes no time, pulling out a suitcase for you as you go through the list of what you need to pack. Quinn leaves you to it, knowing that there's a method to your madness, and the only thing he can do to help is sit there and look pretty.

He's lounging on the bed while piles of clothing surround you. As you start neatly packing things into the suitcase you go through the pile of swimsuits once more, "Are you sure I need this many swimsuits?" You ask skeptically, for what is probably the third time. 

"Yes, babe. We are on the water almost every day," he says again. His answer still the same as the last time you asked.

"Oh!" You spring up with a smile on your face and saunter to the closet, "I just remembered..."

"Remembered what, babe?" Quinn asks curiously, rolling over on the bed so he's no longer looking at you upside down as you emerge from the closet with a blue plastic card. You present it to him with a big smile.

He squints his eyes, snatching the card from your hands. "Is this real?"

You scoff. "Of course, it's real."

"No fucking way," Quinn says, wide-eyed, flipping it over and inspecting the back of it, "We have known each other for so long, and you never mentioned you had a boat license." 

You roll your eyes and plant yourself in the middle of your piles of clothing again while Quinn inspects your very real boating license. "I basically grew up on the Okanagan, of course, I have a boat license." 

"Oh baby, Jack just got demoted from first mate," he chuckles, grin spreading wide. 

You giggle as you pack everything into the suitcase, "I'm excited to see everyone. It's been way too long." 

"Speaking of seeing everyone..." he trails off, nervously fiddling with his fingers, "I didn't tell them about us yet. Or that you're coming."

Confusion is written on your features as you look at him. Your heart stutters a little. He notices the look on your face and is quick to tamper your worries. "I just- I wanted to tell them in person. You're so important to me and to my family as well, and it didn't feel right to tell them over the phone, you know?" 

"I'm nervous." You say quietly, zipping up your suitcase after you've packed everything into it. Quinn stands, pulling you into his arms, you melt into the warmth of his body and loop your arms around his back. 

"They already love you, baby, don't even worry," he says, planting a sweet kiss on your hair. You sigh against his chest and let the beat of his heart calm your nerves. His hands stroke your back in soothing circles, and he starts to sway the two of you back and forth. 

"Alexa, play Heaven by Bryan Adams," Quinn says just loud enough for the device to pick up his voice. You smile into his chest as soft music fills the room, and all of a sudden, tears well at the corners of your eyes because this is everything you have ever dreamed of and more. 

"I love you so much, Quinn," you murmur against his shirt, "more than I have words for."

Quinn pulls away, cupping your face and kissing the tears from your cheeks, "don't cry, baby," he says earnestly, not knowing the reason for your tears.

"Happy tears," you choke out with a smile, nuzzling your cheek against his hand with a happy sigh. He pulls you back into his chest and sways to the music until the song is over. You stand on your tip toes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles against your mouth "Gotta finish packing sweets," he mutters, squeezing your waist. You nip at his lip playfully, and he pulls away with an overdramatic hiss. 

"Why'd you have to remind me?" You pout, crossing your arms against your chest.

Quinn chuckles, smoothing his tongue along his bottom lip, "Come on, babe, I know you won't be able to relax until you get it done. Plus, now it's just your airplane bag, and then you're free." 

You sigh, knowing he's correct, as you gather the things that need to go in your backpack. Your iPad, current book, AirPods, chargers, wallet, passport, and all the other important stuff that need to go in your backpack. Quinn rolls your suitcase by the door, and you place your backpack on top of it, finally done packing for the night.

"How are we getting to the airport?" You ask, mouth full of toothpaste as you and Quinn prepare for bed side by side. Quinn's hair is held back by one of those silly skincare headbands.

You can't help but snap a photo of the two of you. Quinn patted his face dry with a towel, brown curls were pushed back by a lavender headband, you had your toothbrush hanging half out of your mouth, and your hair was pushed back with a matching blue headband. 

Quinn rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to your cheek and you snap another photo with a giggle. Domestic Quinn is your favourite Quinn because he's all yours. No one else gets to see him like this.

Quinn finishes drying his face, "Hmm, I think Barzy said he would take us, I'll text him and double-check."

It takes a minute for the nickname to place, but as soon as it does, you whip around to face him, a piece of floss stuck between your teeth, "Barzy? As in Barzal? Like Matthew Barzal of the New York Islanders?"

Quinn looks at you strangely, "What other Barzal's do you know?"

"Since when are you buddies with Mat Barzal?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Quinn furrows his brows, trying to recall when he became friends with Mat, "Since I moved to Vancouver? I swear you knew this?" 

"No, I didn't," you shake your head, throwing your floss in the garbage. 

"His family lives in Coquitlam. I usually pick him up from the airport when he flies in if I'm still in Vancouver," he shrugs. He swore you knew all of this. Then again, this is the first time he's been around this far into the off-season. He unusually catches the first possible flight out to Michigan, but this time, he stuck around until you were finished teaching.

Your eyes light up in recognition. "Is that the 'Matty' you pick up from the airport every year?" You ask as all the pieces click into place. 

Quinn nods, flipping off the bathroom light and texting mat while you curl up on your respective side of the bed, holding the quilt up for him to slip underneath. "Mat says he'll drop us off," Quinn says, ensuring his alarm is set before he plugs his phone in and slips under the covers beside you. 

As always, you curl into his side, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as possible, stroking patterns along your arm. You toss your leg over his hip, and his other hand finds its home on your leg.

"Night baby, I love you," you whisper against his chest.

"I love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your hair. 

- 

The morning brings a whirlwind of chaos. Making sure neither of you forgot anything important, triple checking to be sure there's nothing left in the fridge that will go bad, amongst other things. There's a knock on the door while Quinn ensures everything is unplugged around the apartment. 

"Ready to go?" Quinn asks as he's locking the apartment door. It's a rhetorical question; it's time to go whether you are ready or not, but the fact that he still cares enough to ask makes your chest warm. 

"Yeah," you sigh, locking your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile as the two of you walk to the awaiting car of Mat Barzal. He pops the trunk, and Quinn hoists your suitcase into the back. 

You slip into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for Quinn. Mat whips towards you with a grin, tilting his head so he can see you over the rims of his sunglasses. "You must be the missus," he sticks his hand out for you to shake, "it's good to finally meet you. Huggy never shuts up about you."

You smile, shaking his hand, "Good to meet you too, Mat. I can't believe Quinn has never introduced us before now," 

Quinn slips into the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. "Cause I knew you two would get along like a house on fire, and frankly, that's something out of my nightmares."

"Oh hush, Huggy," Mat produces a tray from seemingly out of nowhere carrying three takeout cups, "drink your green juice before you pop a vein," he says, handing Quinn the cup with some healthy-looking green juice in it. Quinn takes the cup with a grumble. 

"And for the lady," Mat produces a cup of coffee, "I hope you like hazelnut lattes. Quinn didn't text me back fast enough about your coffee order, so this is what I got." 

"This is perfect, thank you." You say, taking the cup from him, incredibly happy now that you have your hands on some caffeine.

"Thanks for feeding my girlfriend's addiction you ass," Quinn grumbles. His tone is teasing, and his words are light-hearted, but it's funny how Mat sticks out his bottom lip in an offended pout. 

"It's not an addiction!" You protest with a gasp, keeping your coffee close to your chest as if Quinn might try to steal it. 

The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with friendly banter and you and Mat exchange numbers. Quinn pretends it's the worst thing to happen, but secretly, he's happy that you and Mat are getting along.

Mat steps out to do the bro hug thing with Quinn and then grabs your suitcase from the car. Mat pulls you into a side hug, "It was good to meet you, Missus. I know you probably know this, but Quinn loves you a lot. He wears his love for you on his face, which is surprising considering that he's... well, he's Quinn." Mat says with an awkward chuckle. 

It's surprising to hear from someone else. You'd never really thought about how Quinn looks at you in public. To you, he's sassy, and he talks a lot. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and he isn't afraid to make his feelings known. To the public, he's quiet and respectful and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

So to hear that he wears his love for you in his face, publicly, in the open, for the world to see, well, it makes your heart flutter warmly in your chest.

Quinn rejoins the two of you, leaning casually against your suitcase. You take that as your cue to leave and turn to hug Mat for real.

"Thanks for saying that, Mat. It means a lot." You whisper to him. 

Mat chuckles, patting you on the back, "Of course, it was good to meet you, Y/n. I'm gonna let you go now because Quinn looks like he might try to kill me, but send me lots of photos of the two of you this summer, ok?"

It's an odd request, mainly because you just met, but you like him, and you know you're going to become good friends, so you smile and promise you'll send him lots of photos. 

"Thanks for driving us to the airport, Barzy," Quinn smiles, dabbing him up one last time before the two of you head into the airport.

Quinn offers his hand for you, leading the two of you through the airport. You take it gratefully, happy not to have to use your brain. Soon enough, you're seated side by side on the plane, ready to take off. Quinn hands you water while you pop your drugs, ready to pass out. Flying has never been a favourite activity of yours, so you usually take a couple of nighttime advils and knock out for the duration of the flight.

It's like magic, really; You go to sleep in one place and wake up in another. You pillow your head on Quinn's shoulder, and before you know it, you are out cold.

- 

Approximately six hours later, Quinn is shaking you awake ever so gently, "We're here, babe, planes landed," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your head. 

You blink the sleep from your eyes, your brain feeling a little groggy. "Times' it?" You mumble, flopping your head back onto Quinn's shoulder. 

"4:27 pm," 

You hum in acknowledgement, rubbing your eyes with a sigh. The flight attendants announced that it was time to start deboarding. Quinn nudges you up while he grabs both of your backpacks from the overhead compartment. He gives you yours and grabs your hand, leading you off the plane to collect your baggage. 

As the two of you wait by the baggage carousel, you lean against the sturdiness of Quinn's body, still groggy from the meds. Quinn rubs his hands up and down your arms in soothing motions. His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he pulls it out with a huff. His eyes light up instantly when he sees that it's Jack and Luke in their group chat.

“Jack and Luke are here,” he whispers with a smile. Suddenly, you are wide awake; you haven't seen either of them since December, and holy fuck, you miss them. “I told them to park and come in,”

“They still don't know I'm here, right?” you question excitedly. Quinn nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how excited you are. “You face that way, and tell me when they’re coming,” you say, stepping away from Quinn so you aren't standing suspiciously close to him. Quinn chuckles at your request and does it anyway, facing the entrance to the airport so he can see when his brothers enter. You are practically vibrating with excitement as you wait for them to arrive. 

You and Quinn can hear them before you see them, “-well, he probably told us to come in because he has a suitcase or something,” Jack says, exasperated.

“But why does he have a suitcase? He never brings a suitcase?” Luke asks confused

They round the corner as Jack sighs. He points to Quinn and slaps Luke upside the head, “Go ask him yourself,”

You are covering your mouth with a hand to keep your laughter quiet, and Quinn is peaking at you out of the corner of his eye with a very amused look. 

“What’r you smiling about Quinner?” Luke asks, looping his arm around his brother. Quinn pats his back as Jack joins the hug, throwing himself at Quinn’s free side. Quinn loops his free arm around him with a grunt. “Just happy to see you dumbasses,”

“So why’d you have luggage?” Luke asks, brows raised. 

You choose that moment to face them, “It’s mine, actually,” you grin. 

Both of their jaws drop to the floor, and they scramble to untangle themselves from Quinn and throw themselves at you instead. Jack gets to you first, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Luke hugs you around your back. It's awkward because of your backpack, but he is too impatient to wait for Jack to let go, “Y/n, are you really here?” Jack says quietly. 

“No, she’s a figment of your imagination,” Luke says with an eye roll, squeezing you just a little tighter “Yes, she’s here, dumbass,”

Quinn chuckles at the interaction, grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt as it passes. He leans on it, watching as his brothers practically squeeze the life out of you. 

“No one asked you,” Jack huffs. You smile against Jack's neck and tap his arm for him to let go of you. Jack whirls on Quinn, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “How come you didn't tell us she was coming?”

“It was a surprise.” he shrugs with a smirk. 

Luke loops an arm around your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. You have known the kid since he was a fourteen-year-old who barely came up to your shoulder. At this point, he is basically your little brother. Hopefully, one day, he will be. 

“Does this mean you finally pulled your head out of your ass and confessed that you’ve been head over heels for her since you’ve met?” Jack asks bluntly, he pulls on the strap of your backpack to take it from you, and you let him gladly..

Luke cackles, and you laugh behind your hand while Quinn goes red in the face. “Technically, I’m the one who confessed.” you grin, walking towards the door.

“So tell us the story,” Jack nudges with a grin. 

“Oh god, can we not?” Quinn groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Quinn, please tell me you did not embarrass the family name,” Luke says all too seriously. 

“Shut up, Luke. At least I have a girlfriend.”

“So he did embarrass the family name then,” Jack says teasingly.

You just smile, and Jack breaks out into a cackle. Quinn grumbles unintelligibly as he places your suitcase into the trunk. He holds his hand out for the keys, and Luke pouts but hands them over without argument as the older sibling, Quinn, is quite literally incapable of allowing his younger siblings to drive while he is in the car. Quinn opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in with a smile, kissing him on the cheek. 

“UGH, THAT WAS SO GROSS,” Luke yells dramatically, covering his eyes. “Keep your grimy lips off  her, you heathen!”

“She literally kissed me, you dumbass,” Quinn says, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the seat to his comfort, he laces your fingers together, and you keep your intertwined hands perched in your lap. The drive to the lake house is filled with friendly chatter. Jack and Luke ask about your work, how the kids are, and when they can come to visit next year. You ask them about their last season, how their summer is going, if they are excited for the next season, and everything else that comes to mind. 

It’s almost sad that the drive is over as the car pulls up to Lake House. Until you remember you’re about to see Ellen and Jim for the first time in a while. The excitement returns tenfold, and you don't even care about surprising them. As the car rolls to a stoop and you burst out before Quinn has had the chance to put it in park, you can’t remember why you were nervous about coming to Michigan. 

“Hi Quinn, we’re in the kitchen!” Ellen's voice calls as she hears the front door open. Following the sound of Ellen's voice you find the kitchen easily.

“Hi El, Hi Jim,” you say with a sheepish smile. They look up, startled by a voice that is most definitely not Quinn. 

Jim comes over with a smile, pulling you into a side hug. “Hey Kiddo, long time, its good to see you.”

“Oh my goodness! Y/n!” Ellen drops what she is doing and practically runs to hug you, “Welcome to Michigan, Honey! How come no one told us you were coming? Where are the boys?” 

As if on cue, the boys appear in a wave of chaos, Luke dragging your suitcase, Quinn and Jack carrying the backpacks. “Hey, mom, hey, dad,” Quinn says, dropping his bag and hugging them respectively.

Ellen nudges him in the stomach with an elbow, and he doubles over dramatically. “How come you didn't tell us you were bringing Y/n?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her son. 

“She’s finally his girlfriend!” Luke yells as he drags your bags upstairs to Quinn's room.

Ellen's head whips between you two, “surprise,” Quinn says sheepishly, making jazz hands at his mom. Jim snorts and resumes setting the table. Ellen’s face settles into a soft, knowing smile. And she pulls you in for another hug along with Quinn. 

“I thought he was never gonna confess at this rate.” Ellen teases. 

“Well, actually,” you start with a grin, and Quinn is already groaning, “I was the one who confessed,”

“Well, we would love to hear the whole story at dinner, Quinn. Why don’t you give her a quick mini-tour and then freshen up? Dinner will be ready in less than ten.” 

“Sure, Mom,” he drops a kiss to her hair and grabs you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen, back into the living room and up the stairs where Luke had disappeared with your luggage, pointing out things along as you go. He promises a more in-depth tour after dinner as he drags you to his bedroom so the two of you can freshen up.

Jack and Luke had brought all of your luggage up, thank god. You grab your toothbrush out of your bag, and Quinn points you in the direction of the bathroom. “Do you want something to change into?” he asks as he shuffles through his closet. 

“I wouldn't be opposed to a t-shirt,” you answer, undoing your hair and rubbing your fingers into your scalp to release the tension from having your hair up since this morning. You brush your teeth quickly and strip off your hoodie, tossing it on top of your suitcase, as Quinn hands you a t-shirt. As you pull it over your head, the comforting smell of Quinn engulfs you, and you sigh happily. 

Suddenly, Quinn is in front of you, wrapping his arms around you loosely, and you practically fall into him. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, his hands finding your bare skin under your shirt. 

“So happy I came with you, Q,” you smile against his chest. 

“Me too, baby, me too,” he sighs.

Ellen's voice echos up the stairs, saying that dinner is ready, and Quinn places a kiss on your cheek before loosely tangling your fingers together and leading you back down the stairs. Quinn sits on your left, your thing comfortable resting on top of his. Luke is on your right, and Jim, Ellen and Jack are across from you. 

“So tell us the story of how you finally got together,” Ellen prompts, handing you the potatoes.

“Oh god, must we?” Quinn groans,

“Quinn did something embarrassing apparently,” Jack grins, piling his plate high with food.

Their parents don't comment, but the sly smiles that adorn their faces tell you they expected nothing less from their son. “Please spare no expense. We've only waited half a decade for this,” Luke says seriously. 

“It was nothing special, really,” you smile, “we were just having dinner, and then it slipped out.” you shrug. 

Jack pokes you with his foot under the table, and you glare at him playfully. “Come on, you are holding out on us. What happened after that?”

“Nothing,” you smile. 

“Nothing?” Luke questions, and you know he’s caught on as you nod in confirmation.

“As in…” Ellen eyes Quinn with an intensity that only a mother can manage, “Quinn did nothing,” 

Quinn hides his face, absolutely mortified, “he didn't do anything, didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there with a blank stare,” you say, smiling fondly as you recall how the night went. It was funny looking back on it now, but at that time, it was the most horrifying moment of your life.

“Quinn, seriously!” Luke scolds, “The girl you love confesses her undying feelings, and you do nothing! That's so embarrassing. We’re renouncing you as a Hughes.”

“Pretty sure I'm the only one who has that power, kiddo,” Jim chimes in with a teasing smile. 

“So what happened after that?” Jack encourages with a wave of his hand.

“Well, naturally, after you confess your feelings for your best friend and he just kind of stands there frozen like a baby deer in headlights, you feel pretty mortified,” you shrug, “so naturally, I ran away.”

“Oh my god! You didn't!” Luke gasps dramatically. 

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I did,” you nudge Quinn gently so he can continue the story. 

“Forgot her phone, keys, wallet, everything,” Quinn says, shaking his head, “I was freaking out, so I kinda just ran out of the apartment after her. I’m sprinting down the streets of downtown Vancouver after dark, and it starts raining. Eventually, like, ten minutes later, I found her crying on a park bench, soaked to the bone and shivering like there was no tomorrow.” 

“And just as I was about to take off again, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me he loves me too,” you say, smiling softly. 

“Dude, that's straight out of The Notebook,” Jack laughs, 

“Well, that will make a fun wedding story.” Ellen smiles, 

“That's what Quinn said,” You say, grinning. 

“Good job, Quinner. I honestly expected much more embarrassment on your part.” Luke says much too happily. 

“Gee, thanks for having so much faith in me, Moose.” Quinn rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure the real version is much less PG,” Jack mutters with a smirk, earning himself a jab from his mother. Your cheeks warm, and your gaze drops to your plate while the tips of Quinn’s ears go pink.

Jack’s smirk grows wider at your reactions, and he's cackling as he takes his next bite of food.

“After that, I moved into his place, and that's basically it, and now we're here.” 

“And we're glad to have you,” Ellen smiles.

The remainder of dinner passes quickly, the conversation flowing between the five of you easily. You help clean the kitchen. “Wanna do a sunset boat ride?” Quinn asks as he dries his hands on the dish towel, “I'm itching to get on the water.”

“I'm down,” Luke and Jack say simultaneously, while Jim and Ellen nod in agreement.

“Everyone get a hoodie, you know how cold it gets on the boat as soon as the sun starts to set,” Ellen instructs while she heads up the stairs to grab hoodies for her and Jim. 

“I’ll go get two for us,” Quinn murmurs, disappearing up the stairs behind his mom.

He comes back down, not a minute later, with two hoodies in hand. He hands you the blue Canucks hockey one and takes the grey one for himself. 

“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Quinn starts as you all make your way to the dock, “you've been demoted as first mate and secondary driver,”

“What?” Jack practically screeches, “What did I do to deserve this?”  he whines. 

Quinn simply whips your boat license out of his pocket and shows it to Jack with a shit-eating grin. 

Jack's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Don’t worry, Jack,” you laugh, “I would never usurp your position like that.” you pat him on the head reassuringly, and he can't help but smile at you. 

Quinn hops over the side of the boat, and ever the gentleman offers you a hand. You take it with a smile and go to choose a seat, but before you can do so, Quinn is pulling you onto his lap in the driver's seat. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You are, after all, in front of his family. No one comments. They all simply smile knowingly as Quinn wraps one arm around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

With the comforting strength of Quinn’s body beneath you, the sunset on the lake and the soft chatter of the Hughes melding with the wind rushing in your ears, you decide that this will, in fact, be the best summer of your life. 

-

Ya'll I am so so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be out Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday, then Monday morning. And here we are. Monday night. Finally.

Some crazy shit happened 😭

Anyways, last final is on Thursday and then I have all the free time in the world to write!

Hope yall are having a wonderful day/night/evening/time etc.

As always, comments are much appreciated.

[lee-laurent]

Pushing Through - Quinn Hughes

Summary: faye and quinn navigate parenthood

content: pregnancy, angst, fluff, family issues, mentions of sex but no explicit smut, arguments

wc: 15.3k

notes: part two of 'a love like no other' as requested by multiple people! i hope you all enjoy!!! (not proofread)

Faye sat on the edge of her bed, cradling a swaddled James in her arms. The lamp on the bedside table illuminated her tired face, her hair messy, and her body aching. Quinn stood awkwardly by the bassinet, watching her, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you want to sleep?" he asked quietly, stepping a bit closer. "I can hold him for a while."

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think I can. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I'm going to miss something. That he's going to need me and I'll be asleep."

James shifted as much as he could in his swaddle, letting out a cry that sent a wave of panic through her. Faye immediately shushed him, rocking him slightly, trying to calm him down. The exhaustion was a lot, but the fear of not being there for her baby was worse.

Quinn sat next to her, rubbing her back gently. "You're doing great, Faye," he said softly, his hand warm on her shoulder. "He's just getting used to everything, too. This is his third night out of the womb. He's probably still confused. I'd be."

"I don't feel like I'm doing great," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I feel like I'm failing him already. What if... what if I can't do this, Quinn?"

He put his thumb on her chin, forcing her to face him. "You're not failing. You've been doing everything for him. He's healthy. He's here, Faye. We've got this."

Her eyes were full of doubt, but something in his voice reassured her. He was scared too, she could tell, but he was trying--for her, for James. That mattered more than anything.

"Why don't you let me try?" Quinn offered again, gesturing to James. "You can sleep for a bit, just an hour and I'll wake you up."

She hesitated before nodding, her body craving some rest, no matter how short. She carefully handed James over, her hands lingering for a second as Quinn took him.

Quinn looked down at his son, eyes wide with wonder. He rocked him gently, his hands almost comically large compared to the newborn. Faye watched them for a moment, feeling an emotion she couldn't quite name. Maybe it was relief. Maybe it was love. Exhausted, she lay down, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When she blinked awake, Quinn was asleep next to her. He hadn't woken her up like he'd said, but she appreciated it. She needed sleep. She shifted and a damp feeling woke her up further. Her shirt was soaked, and she groaned softly, glancing down at the growing wet spot on the fabric of Quinn's Canucks t-shirt she'd stolen. The ache she felt was unmistakable--she was leaking.

Quietly, she sat up, not wanting to disturb Quinn, who was still fast asleep. She peeked at James in his bassinet next to the bed, peacefully sleeping after hours of restless crying and squirming. But she knew she couldn't wait.

With a quiet sigh, she picked him up, cradling him in her arms. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. She leaned over to grab her nursing pillow, cringing when James whimpered. "I'm sorry, little man," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. "Time to eat."

She sat back against the headboard, lifting her shirt up, positioning James to nurse. He latched quickly, and Faye felt so relieved. There were times where he struggled, but he seemed to be working with her this time. His eyes were closed, peaceful and content as he ate.

Faye brushed the few strands of dark hair on his head, her eyes drifting to Quinn, who had shifted but was still fast asleep. The sight of him, his arm flung over his eyes, made her smile. He had been so helpful, and seeing him with James made her heart ache in a new way.

James finished feeding, and she carefully pulled him away, wiping a little milk from the corner of his mouth. She lifted him up, quickly burping him before he fell back asleep. "You full, buddy?" The night had been long, so she was praying he'd sleep for at least a couple more hours.

He squirmed, but after a couple minutes he settled, and she placed him back in his bed. When Faye finally climbed back into bed, her body was sore, and her eyelids were heavy. She lay down, listening to the breathing of her boys filling the air, she eyes started to close, and she whispered softly, "We're doing okay, James. We're doing okay."

~~

The air in the apartment felt heavier than usual. It had been two weeks since James was born, and Quinn had to head back to hockey. Faye paced the kitchen, her fingers running through her greasy hair as she glanced at Quinn, who was zipping up his duffle bag. James slept peacefully in his bassinet, oblivious to how his parents were feeling.

"I don't know if I can do this, Quinn," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I've never been alone with him for this long. What if something happens?"

Quinn paused, crossing the room to her. "You're not alone, Faye. I'm a phone call away. Your mom is coming to help. My mom is always willing to help. You can do this."

Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as tears welled in her eyes. "But what if I mess up? What if I miss something? He needs so much, and I just--"

"You won't mess up." His voice was steady, but his eyes were misting too. "You've been doing everything since he was born, and you've been amazing. I've seen it." He took a deep breath, his voice faltering as he looked over at James. "And I don't want to go either. It's killing me to leave him."

Faye saw the first tear slip from Quinn's eye, and it broke something in her. She let out a sob, falling into his arms, and he held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head.

"We'll make this work," he whispered, his voice cracking as he tried to keep it together for her. "I'll come back when I can. I'll FaceTime every night... I don't want to miss anything either, Faye."

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. "He's going to forget you."

Quinn shook his head, squeezing her hands. "He won't. He'll know who I am. I promise you, Faye."

For a few minutes, they stood in the kitchen, holding each other, the only sound being James' white noise machine. Finally, Quinn leaned down to kiss her forehead and walked over to James, who was still fast asleep. He bent down, wiping a tear from his own cheek before pressing a gentle kiss on his son's head.

"I love you, little Hughes. Dada will be back soon."

He straightened up, wiping his cheeks and grabbing his bag, hugging Faye one last time. "You've got this."

And then he was gone, the door closing with a soft click. Faye stood there, staring at the door while she cried, she wanted him to stay. But a part of her was finally believing that maybe, just maybe, she could do it.

~~

1 month

Faye was hunched in the driver's seat, her back aching with every turn she took. James's cries filled the cramped space, louder than usual, as they pulled into the lot of the pediatrician's office. He hated the car. The only time he didn't cry when driving was if he was asleep. She parked and took a deep breath, squeezing the steering wheel to steady her hands. The pain in her chest, most physical and emotional, had been growing as rapidly as James's appetite.

She looked at him in the mirror attached to the headrest of his seat. His face was bright red, tears staining his chubby cheeks, his little fists clenched in frustration.

"It's okay, buddy. We're almost getting out," she whispered, her voice shaky. Her throat had that tight feeling she got when she was about to cry. Crying had become too frequent, and she was tired of it. Exhausted, actually.

She pulled James and his carrier out of the car, a sharp pain shooting through her back almost immediately. She winced, gritting her teeth. The pain was never ending--between the back pain from months of carrying him and the stabbing soreness in her boobs from endless nursing, it seemed like her body was rebelling against her. How did people do this?

Inside the clinic, she rocked James, hoping to soothe him before they got in to the see the doctor. Faye scanned the other moms in the room, all of whom seemed much more put together than she felt. They probably didn't Google every little thing like she did. She'd spent hours the previous night searching for ways to alleviate nursing pains. Articles about creams, different positions, and "healing times" flooded her search history, but nothing seemed to help.

She glanced at the time on her phone, seeing Quinn's missed text from an hour earlier, telling her about his insurance covering everything except a small co-pay for James' appointment. He called every night since going back to Vancouver, even during travel days. But it really wasn't the same. She missed him being there physically and as much as she wanted to tell him about how hard it had been, she couldn't bring herself to do it over FaceTime. Not when he already looked so sad every time James fussed or cried without him there to help.

James let out another wail, and Faye quickly stood up, bouncing him in her arms.

"We're almost done, baby. Mama promises," she whispered. He'd been feeding constantly the last few days, hitting a growth spurt that left him fussier than usual. The pediatrician said it was normal, but the combination of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and a gnawing anxiety in her gut had worn her thin.

The nurse finally called them back, and the examination felt like a blur. The doctor smiled, congratulating Faye on how well James was growing, how strong her was becoming.

"All those long feeding sessions are definitely paying off," the doctor commented, jotting down some notes. "You're doing an amazing job."

Faye forced a smile, nodding in agreement even as her mind screamed otherwise. She felt like she was barely holding it together. James squirmed as the doctor measured his length and weight, making a small squawk before falling silent.

"Everything looks good," the doctor continued, probably used to seeing delirious new moms. "Just make sure you start doing tummy time with him regularly. It'll help with his development."

"Tummy time," Faye repeated. "Right. We... We'll get on that."

~~

The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the white noise machine on Faye's nighstand. James was finally asleep after hours of cluster-feeding. Faye sat against the headboard, her legs stretched out and a heating pad resting on her lower back. Every muscle in her body ached, and the pain in her chest had barely subsided. Even the act of nursing had become an ordeal, a reminder of how fragile her body still was.

Her phone buzzed, Quinn's contact photo lighting up the screen. She quickly answered, her tired face reflected in the small window in the corner. His eyes, though tired, lit up when he saw her.

"Hey, how'd the checkup go?" he asked, adjusting his position on his couch.

"It was fine," she replied. "He's doing great. He's growing so fast. They told me to start doing tummy time."

"That's great!" Quinn's voice was filled an enthusiasm that Faye wished she could share. "And you? How are you holding up?"

Faye hesitated. She didn't want to burden him, not with the pressure of work and being away from his son. But the truth sat in the back of her throat, burning. "It... It's a lot, Quinn. The feeding, the crying... I really just didn't expect it to be this hard. My back's killing me, and the nursing--" her voice cracked, "I've tried everything but it's still sore."

"I wish I could be there with you," he sighed. "I'm so sorry you're going through this alone."

"You're not gone, Quinn," she whispered, wiping a stray tear away. "You're here, just in a different way. You FaceTime every day. That's more than some people get."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're doing this alone, Faye. I'll come visit as soon as I can. And in two months, our family will be together in Vancouver."

"I know." She looked at James, flipping the camera so Quinn could see him too. "I just... I really don't want him to forget you."

"He won't. We'll make sure of it."

They spent the next half hour talking--about hockey, about James, about the little things they missed about each other. Quinn talked to James, pulling goofy faces even though the baby was fast asleep.

Faye couldn't help but cry as she watched. She couldn't help but feel like everything was falling through the cracks.

~~

2 months

Faye was knelt on the floor, her phone propped up on a stack of books, capturing the perfect angle of James lying on his play mat. His legs kicked in the air, and his tiny fists waved in excitement as Faye set up for their morning FaceTime with Quinn.

"Hey, you two!" Quinn's voice was soft but excited. "How's my little guy doing today?"

"He's ready to show off," Faye said, a grin on her face as she angled the phone more toward James. "He's been lifting his head more during tummy time. Watch."

She gently flipped James onto his stomach, and within seconds, he lifted his head, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he tried to hold the position. Quinn let out a laugh, clapping his hands through the screen.

"Look at him! Strong like Dada," Quinn joked. "Man, I miss you guys so much."

Faye smiled, but she could hear the longing in his voice. James lifted his head again, and his eyes caught the phone, recognizing the sound of his dad's voice. His little mouth curled into a smile, wide and gummy.

"There it is! He's smiling at you," Faye laughed. "He's been doing that a lot lately. I think he's finally realizing we weren't trying to torture him by taking him out the womb."

"That's my boy," Quinn whispered. "You're getting so big."

As they continued to talk, Faye positioned James on his back, watching as he squirmed, trying to roll over. His movements here jerky, uncoordinated, but Faye knew it wouldn't be long before he'd finally manage.

"He's working on rolling," she explained. "He gets so close, then he just stops. But I think he'll get it soon."

They spent the next few minutes chatting while James babbled away, his little coos and gurgles filling the room, making Quinn laugh. "He's making more sounds now, too," Faye noted, adjusting James's onesie. "He doesn't cry as much anymore, thank God."

~~

The routine had finally started to feel manageable. James had settled into a more predictable schedule. He woke around 6 each day, with five short naps throughout the day, and went to bed around 10pm. Faye cherished the moments during the morning and evening when she could actually think, when her whole focus wasn't on feeding and changing diapers.

Since starting to freeze her milk, things had become easier as well. She could give James a bottle at night, which gave her a break from the soreness. She'd learned to power through it though when she had to. It was for James after all.

It was around 11:30pm when James started stirring for his first nighttime feeding. Faye set down her book, grabbing the bottle next to her that she'd already warmed up. He drank slowly, grasping her shirt as his eyes fluttered shut.

After getting him back down, she scrolled through her messages with Quinn, admiring all the photos she'd sent of James. She swore he looked more and more like Quinn every day. She really couldn't wait to see Quinn again.

~~

3 months

James lay on a blanket on the floor, his tiny fists clutching a bright yellow teething toy, occasionally letting out a giggle as he gnawed at it. His wide blue eyes followed Faye's every movement as she worked through organizing and packing all their belongings.

Her parents, who had come to help, were bustling around the room, thought their conversation had shifted to more serious territory.

"I just don't understand why you have to go so soon," her mom said, folding one of James's blankets and placing it in a box. "You have everything you need here. We're here. Your support system is here."

Faye froze mid-pack, her stomach twisting. She had been dreading this conversation from the moment her parents had arrived, and now that it was happening, she wasn't sure if she could deal with it.

"I've already explained it, Mom," Faye replied. "Quinn wants us to be with him. We've been doing this long-distance thing for three months, and it's hard. He wants to be there for James. In person."

Her father, who had kept quiet until then, cleared his throat. "But you're already doing so well here. You've settled into a routine, and with us around to help, you've got all the support you need."

Faye dropped the stack of board books, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. The exhaustion and the stress of moving hit her all at once, and she felt tears prick her eyes. "I'm not staying in Michigan. Quinn needs to be with his son. And I need to be with Quinn."

Her mom exchanged a glance with her dad. "We're just worried, sweetheart. You've already drained, and moving across the country with a three-month-old isn't easy. If things don't work out..."

"I know it's not easy. None of this has been easy, but staying here won't make it any better. Quinn and I want the best for James--together. He deserves to be a part of his child's life every day, and not just over the phone."

Her parents didn't press the issue further, but their disapproval hung heavy in the air. Faye took a deep breath, blinking away her tears. She crouched down next to James, who was contently chewing on his hand, oblivious to what was happening.

She smiled at him, brushing her fingers through his hair. "We're going to be okay. We have to be."

~~

The flight had been long, and by the time Faye and James landed in Vancouver, she was completely drained. Quinn had met them at the airport, grinning from ear to ear as he scooped up James, pressing kisses all over his tiny face. After months of separation, they were finally together again.

They arrived at Quinn's place in the late afternoon, James asleep in his carseat as Quinn carried him up the stairs. The space was modern and clean--clearly the home of a bachelor who hadn't yet baby-proofed his life. But Faye didn't care. It was their home now.

Quinn set James down in his crib--a new addition to his bedroom--and turned to Faye, pulling her into his arms. She melted into the hug, the weight of the past few months melting away. For the first time in months, she felt herself relax.

"You made it," he whispered into her hair.

"We made it," she corrected, tilting her head to look up at him. "We're here."

Quinn smiled. "How's he doing?"

"He's good. Much more aware now. Lifting his head, grabbing anything within reach. You'll see for yourself tomorrow."

They spent the rest of the day unpacking essentials--diapers, bottles, baby clothes--while James slept, blissfully unaware of the major change to his life. Faye couldn't help but smile as she watched Quinn move around the apartment, organizing toys and blankets in his precise, methodical Quinn-way.

They sat on the couch, exhausted but happy. Faye leaned against Quinn, her hand on his knee as they talked quietly about routines and being a family together.

Quinn reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "I'm so glad you're here. I missed both of you so much."

"We missed you too. But we're here now. And we'll figure everything out."

"We will."

~~

It was late, pushing midnight, and the only light on in the apartment was a bedside lamp. James was nursing in Faye's arms while she sat propped up against some pillows. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, her t-shirt stained with milk, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. Quinn lay beside her, his arms lazily draped over his chest, watching them both under the dim light.

As Faye moved James to swap sides, Quinn's voice broke the silence. "You know," he started, a smile tugging at his lips, "It's been exactly a year since that party."

Faye looked at him, blinking in confusion for a moment, clearly not connecting the dots. "What party?"

Quinn chuckled, rolling on his side to face her. "The one where we... created James."

"Ew. Don't say it like that," Faye's face flushed, and she let out a soft groan, rolling her eyes at him. "Oh, God. Don't remind me though."

But Quinn's smile didn't fade. His voice dropped to a quieter, more serious tone. "When I saw you at that party, I never imagined we'd end up here." He gestured toward James. "You, me... our son."

Faye swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were. She could feel the tension between them, and she shifted slightly under his gaze. "Yeah, I didn't exactly seeing this coming either."

His eyes lingered on her, a quiet admiration in his expression. "But I'm glad it did."

Faye wasn't sure what to say, so instead, she offered a small smile and turned back to James, who had finally finished eating. Quinn didn't push it, but he still watched as Faye burped the baby and set him back in his crib. Neither of them would say it out loud, but they knew something between them had shifted.

They lay there in the dark, side by side, as the tension slowly dissolved into their usual, comfortable vibe. But somewhere far in the back of Faye's mind, she wondered how long they were going to ignore what was clearly growing between them.

~~

4 months

The lake house was Quinn's sanctuary--a place where he could let loose, hang out with Jack, Luke, and their friends, and forget about responsibilities. But this year was different. James was now four months old, and Faye had come along for the annual summer trip, bringing a sense of responsibility Quinn wasn't used to.

The weather was perfect, the sun glistening off the water, and laughter echoed from the dock where Jack, Luke, and their friends--Trevor, Cole, and Alex--were playing around, just like they always had. But Quinn wasn't out there with them, at least not in the way he wanted to be. Instead, he sat on the dock, not on edge but in the middle, as Faye had insisted. He had a wiggly James in his lap and Faye hovered nearby, her eyes flickering nervously between their baby and the group of people gathered at the water.

Faye couldn't shake the anxiety that she felt. The lake was beautiful, but there were so many people. James had never been exposed to that many people. It wasn't that she didn't trust Quinn's friends; she just felt so out of place. The constant noise and joking around so was different than the quiet routine she'd created with James.

Jack and Luke were in love with their nephew, constantly cooing at him, stealing him away for cuddles, or playing peek-a-boo to make him laugh. Even the other guys--especially Trevor--were coming up to Faye, asking to hold him or play with him. And while Faye knew they were just excited to see the baby, her nerves had her constantly on edge, afraid James would be overwhelmed.

As soonas the boys came out of the water, Trevor was bouncing James on his knee. Faye bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched. "Maybe it's time for his nap?" she suggested hesitantly, not trying to sound overly cautious.

Trevor grinned at her. "Nah, he's having fun! Right, little Hughes?"

Quinn, sensing Faye's anxiety, stood up from his spot, taking James from Trevor. "Yeah, maybe he does need a break," he shot Faye a reassuring look. "We'll be back in a bit."

They retreated into the air-conditioned living room. Faye sat on the couch, holding James close as she rocked him gently, still in overprotective mode. Quinn sat beside her, resting his hand on her back.

"You don't have to worry so much," he said softly, eyes flickering to look at his brothers through the window. "They love him. They'd never do anything to hurt him."

Faye sighed, looking down at James, who was eating his hand. "I know... I just... it's hard. I feel like I'm always on high alert."

"Faye, you're doing great. He's fine. He's more than fine. I think he's obsessed with Luke."

Faye nodded. She knew Quinn was right, but being there made her feel even more protective than she normally did. James had started to roll over and lift his head with ease, his giggles filling the house, and even though she loved watching him grow and interact with everyone, she felt like their perfect little bubble was about to pop.

Quinn glanced outside again, a conflicted expression on his face. He wanted to join his brothers, enjoy the lake like he always did, but things were different now. And though he loved James, he couldn't help but feel trapped in his new reality.

~~

The lake was peaceful at night, but inside the house it was anything but. James's cries echoed through the halls. He had been fussy for days, barely able to sleep, a common sign of the dreaded four-month sleep regression. His routine had been completely upended, and Faye had spent countless nights pacing the floor with him, her body bgging for rest.

Faye sat up in bed, bouncing James gently in her arms as he wailed, his fists clenching and unclenching. Her eyes stung with tiredness, and every muscle in her body ached. Quinn, lying beside her, let out a heavy sigh, his patience wearing thin.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "I haven't slept in days."

Faye didn't look at him, focusing on calming her baby. "Welcome to my life," she said under her breath, though she didn't mean for it to come out so sharply.

Quinn sat up abruptly. "You're not the only one dealing with this, Faye. I've been trying too."

She looked over her shoulder, her exhaustion fueling her frustration. "You've been trying, Quinn? Really? Because all I've seen is you getting more and more frustrated with every cry. He's a baby--this is what babies do."

"I'm young, Faye. We're young. I wasn't supposed to--" He cut himself off, but the damage was done.

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

Quinn shook his head, clearly regretting his words. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?" Faye demanded. "Because it sounds like you're saying you don't want to be a dad."

I'm just saying... this isn't what I imagined my life would be like right now. I didn't plan on dealing with this--sleep regressions, constant crying..."

Faye stood up, clutching James tightly to her chest, tears spilling down her cheeks. "If that's how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn't be here." Her voice cracked, but her anger kept her moving. "Maybe we should go."

Quinn's eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "Faye--wait, I didn't mean--"

But she didn't wait. She grabbed the diaper bag and stormed out of the room, heading down the stairs, her breath coming in shallow, painful gasps. James, still fussy, picked up on his mom's distress, his cries growing louder. Faye rushed to the car, buckling him in and driving away from the lake house, her hands shaking on the wheel.

~~

Hours had passed before Faye returned. By the time she pulled into the driveway, the sun was rising and her anger had changed to a deep sadness. James had finally fallen asleep in the backseat, and Faye was feeling drained and hurt.

Quinn had called her countless times, his messages a mixture of apologies and pleas for her to come back. She hadn't answered any of them, but she knew she couldn't ignore him forever. She spotted Quinn standing on the front porch, his face pale and anxious, as she approached with James and his carrier in hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was stupid, Faye. I didn't mean it. I love James. I love doing this so much. I was just frustrated."

Faye didn't say anything, walking past him and into the house. She carefully laid James down in his crib and turned to face Quinn, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Don't you ever," she began, her voice low and firm, "make me feel like you don't want him. Like you don't want us. If you say anything like that again, Quinn... I won't come back."

He swallowed thickly, nodding. "I know. I'm sorry. I swear I'll never say anything like that ever again."

They stood in silence for a couple minutes, until Faye finally nodded, her shoulders sagging. She didn't fully forgive him, not yet, but she was willing to give him the time to make things right.

~~

The tension from the argument still hung in the air, but things were slowly starting to feel normal again. Quinn spent as much time with James as possible, trying to make up for what he'd said. One afternoon, while Faye watched from the deck, Quinn lay on a blanket in the shade with James. He held him up, making airplane noises as James giggled, his tiny hands reaching out to touch Quinn's face.

"Who's the best little guy?" Quinn cooed, kissing James's cheeks and making him burst into more giggles. His blue eyes sparkled as he pulled his son close, holding him against his chest.

Faye wanted to be mad at Quinn, but it was hard when he looked at James with such love and pride.

Later that day, James was the centre of attention on the dock. Jack and Luke couldn't get enough of their nephew, constantly offering to hold him, while Trevor, Cole, and Alex took turns trying to make him laugh.

Trevor waved the bright toy in front of James's face, his goofy expressions earning a high-pitched squeal. "This kid is gonna be the funniest Hughes yet," Trevor said, grinning up at Faye.

"Look at him," Luke chimed in, leaning over to blow a raspberry on James's belly. "Coolest baby at the lake house."

Eventually Quinn had to take him away for bed, earning groans from all the guys. They all decided to head out to some party they'd heard was happening. When Quinn was done putting down James, he found Faye curled up near the fire pit, a baby monitor resting beside her.

"I know you're still mad," Quinn started. "But I'm really trying here, Faye. I want to be better--for you, for James."

She glanced at him, biting her lip as she considered his words. "I know you are. And I appreciate it. It's just... what you said, it really hurt. I don't want to ever feel like you regret this."

Quinn shook his head, reaching for her hand. She tugged it away and his expression fell. "I don't regret any of it. I was an idiot for saying that shit, Faye. I love James, even if I'm too damn stubborn to admit it sometimes."

She let out a soft sigh. As much as she wanted to be pissed with him, he made it really hard. She finally gave in, squeezing his hand. "I'm not saying I've completely forgiven you. But we're getting there."

"I'll keep trying."

Things weren't perfect by any means, but they were moving in the right direction.

~~

The boat swayed gently, the hum of the motor the only sound on the calm lake. James sat on Faye's lap, his hands grabbing onto the front of his bright yellow life jacket, bringing it up to his mouth to chew on. His wide blue eyes peered out from under the little sun hat Faye had tied on him, his legs kicking in excitement as they cruised over the water.

Quinn sat at the steering wheel, sunglasses perched on his nose. He hadn't said much, just a few comments in his baby voice that always made James laugh. Faye could feel the weight of something unsaid hanging between them. But Quinn just stared out over the water, lost in thought.

Faye glanced at him, then back down to James, brushing her fingers gently over his chubby cheek. "He loves this," she murmured, watching their son bounce with excitement at each tiny wave they hit.

Quinn looked over his shoulder quickly before looking back at the water. "Yeah, he does," he agreed, his voice quieter than normal. There was a pause, a long stretch of silence where Faye wondered if he was going to say something else. And then, finally, he spoke, his tone serious.

"I've been thinking a lot," he stopped the boat, turning to look at James who was still gnawing at his life jacket. "About what I said. About how stupid it was."

Faye kept her eyes on James, unsure of how to respond.

Quinn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't ever want you to feel like I'm not in this--like I don't want to be here. With you. With him." His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. "I've never regretted him, Faye. Not for a second."

She nodded, holding James a little tighter.

"I was angry," he continued. "I'm not used to this, ya know? Not having all the freedom I used to have, especially here with all the guys. It used to be just us, messing around. But I was selfish. I didn't think about what you've been through--how hard it's been for you."

"Quinn..."

He held up a hand, shaking his head. "No, let me finish. I love James... and this family we've created. And I know I haven't said it enough, or made it clear. I'm all in, Faye. I'm sorry I made you think otherwise."

"Like I said... I don't want you to ever say anything like that again," Faye whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't... I can't do this alone. And if you ever make me feel like you don't want us... I'll move back to Michigan."

"I know. I swear to you, Faye. I'll never say anything like that again. I don't want to lose you or James."

James babbled as if he was giving his two cents, making Faye giggle quietly to herself.

"You're gonna have to make it up to both of us," she teased.

Quinn chuckled, the sound full of relief. "I will. Whatever it takes."

~~

5 months

The setting sun filtered through the blinds in the living room where Faye was sat on the floor with James. He was fussy, gnawing on a teething ring while she bounced him on her lap, her anxiety mounting as the minutes ticked by.

"We don't have to go if you're not ready," Quinn said gently, coming up behind her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He was dressed in a nice button-up and some jeans, his hair neatly styled for the first time in weeks. "It's fine if you're too nervous."

Faye bit her lip, glancing down at James, who let out a whine as he chewed on the ring. "I've never left him alone, Quinn," she whispered, her voice strained. "He's teething. What if something happens? What if--"

"He'll be fine," Quinn assured her, crouching down and taking James's hand in his. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't trust her. Emily's got two kids, and she offered. They'll take care of him like he's their own."

Faye knew Emily was trustworthy--one of the other team moms, she's been nothing but friendly and supportive since Faye'd moved to Vancouver. But leaving James with anyone, especially a non-family member, felt overwhelming.

"What if he just cries the whole time? What if he doesn't sleep? What if--"

Quinn placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head toward him. "Faye, he'll be okay. We'll only be gone a few hours. We deserve this."

She felt like she was going to puke, but she could see the excitement in Quinn's eyes. She had to admit, the idea of a real date, just the two of them, was tempting. After months of sleepless nights, teething struggles, and never-ending routines, she needed a break. And she could tell Quinn did too.

"Okay," she swallowed her fear. "But if anything happens--anything--we're coming right back."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Deal."

~~

Faye thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest when they stepped inside Emily's house, her arms instinctively tightening around James. Emily greeted them warmly, her two kids--ages 6 and 8--rushing over to peek at the baby.

"He's so cute!" one of them exclaimed.

"Yeah, he's... he's a good baby. Just a little fussy because of his teeth."

Emily waved her hand, completely unfazed. "Oh, don't worry about that. We've got teethers, and the kids loving having babies around. We'll take good care of him, I promise."

After a few minutes of reassurances and very reluctant goodbyes, Quinn gently coaxed Faye out the door. She glanced back several times, but Emily's smile never wavered.

"He'll be okay," Quinn said again as they walked to the car.

Faye nodded, though she couldn't shake her nerves. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

~~

The restaurant was intimate and elegant, the soft lighting and quiet music setting a romantic tone that felt miles away from their hectic lives as parents. Faye felt almost out of place in her dress, her hair done up for the first time in months.

Quinn smiled at her as they sat down, his eyes warm and full of affection. "You look beautiful."

Faye blushed. "Thanks. It's weird being here without him, though."

"I know," he reached across the table to take her hand. "But it's nice, too, isn't it? Just us."

Faye nodded. She hadn't realized how much she missed this--missed him. The constant demands of being new parents had consumed so much of their lives, she hadn't had the time or space to really focus on Quinn. But sitting there, seeing him all dressed up, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt.

They talked about everything as they ate--James, their future, how far they'd come in the last few months. Quinn made her laugh, telling her stories about his teammates and teasing her about how nervous she was leaving James with a babysitter.

She giggled, feeling a lightness she hadn't experienced in forever. "Okay. Maybe I was a... little over the top."

"You're a great mom, Faye. You worry because you care. But you're also allowed to relax."

She glanced down at her plate, her heart thumping as she realized something. She was falling for him. The thought hit her with a sudden, startling clarity. She never expected to feel like this about him when they first met. But there she was, realizing how much he really meant to her.

When they finally arrived back at Emily's house, Faye's nerves were back. She was thinking about everything that could've gone wrong while she was gone. But as soon as they stepped inside, her fears melted away.

James was fast asleep in Emily's arms, his face peaceful.

"He did great," Emily smiled. "Cried a little at first, but he calmed down after a bit. He's a sweetheart. Definitely has his dad's personality."

"Thank you," Faye sighed.

Quinn wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "See? He's fine."

"Yeah, he is."

As they headed home, Faye couldn't help but steal glances at Quinn. Maybe it was more than just co-parenting.

~~

Faye stirred awake, surprised to hear the sounds of James cooing and giggling down the hallway. She blinked, her brain still foggy, then sat up, noticing the empty spot next to her in bed. Usually, James would be fussing by now and Quinn would still be asleep.

She padded into the living room, stopping at the doorway to take in the scene in front of her. Quinn was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out, holding James upright on his lap. James was all smiles, his fists wrapped around Quinn's fingers as Quinn bounced him gently.

"Look at you, buddy," Quinn murmured, his tone filled with pride. "You're getting so big. Almost ready to crawl, huh?"

James giggled, kicking excitedly. Quinn laughed too, his face lighting up in a way that Faye had never seen before. She stood there, quietly, watching, not wanting to interrupt.

A bottle sat on the coffee table, and it was clear Quinn had already fed James without waking her. Watching Quinn like that, so at ease with their son, was almost overwhelming.

"I didn't want to wake you," Quinn said softly, glancing up at her as if he'd sensed her presence. "Figured you could use the extra sleep."

"Looks like you've got things under control," she teased lightly, sitting beside them on the floor.

"Yeah, we've got our routine down, right, little man?"

James babbled happily, reaching up to grab Quinn's hair, and they both laughed. Faye leaned over, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. "You're getting really good at this, you know."

"I've got a pretty great teacher."

~~

6 months

The sound of tiny wheels squeaking against the hardwood floor echoed through the apartment as James, nestled comfortably in his new sit-in walker, zoomed across the living room. He giggled as he kicked his legs, propelling himself toward the couch where Faye sat, laughing at her son's new found mobility. His chubby hand gripped the clip of his pacifier, his face lighting up every time he managed to turn himself in a new direction.

"Look at him go!" Quinn grinned, standing by the kitchen counter, watching James navigate his way through the room. "He's unstoppable."

James's mouth formed a toothless smile as he bumped into the couch, his feet scrambling to turn himself around. Faye leaned down, helping him redirect his little walker, her heart swelling as she watched him scoot away again, this time heading for the kitchen.

Quinn met him halfway, stopping the walker with his foot. "You coming to help Dada cook, buddy?" He leaned forward, kissing James's cheek and pulling a silly face, earning more giggles from his son.

There was something so beautifully simple about it--the three of them, together, in their cozy apartment. Quinn had become so at ease in his role as a dad, effortlessly balancing his time between the rink and home. The domesticity of it all was something Faye never imagined she would have with Quinn, but it felt so natural, so right.

"Think we should put up a speed limit sign in here?" Faye teased, raising an eyebrow as James headed towards the coffee table.

"Yeah, or maybe some baby traffic cones," Quinn laughed, grabbing James before he could knock into anything else.

James squirmed in his dad's arms, still eager to explore every inch of the apartment. Quinn kissed the top of his head, setting him down to continue his adventure. It was moments like that--watching Quinn and James together--that made Faye realize just how much her life had changed. And for the first time, in a long time, she wasn't scared of it.

~~

Faye stood at the counter, carefully spooning a bit of soft rice cereal into a tiny bowl, her hands moving with nervous precision. James was sat in his high chair for the first time, his legs swinging beneath the tray, eyes wide as he watched his mom's every move. Today was a big day--his first taste of real food.

"He's going to love it," Quinn said from beside her, grabbing his phone off the counter. "I bet he's ready to dive right in."

They had done the research, talked to the pediatrician, and Quinn had been more than eager to introduce James to baby-led weaning. But now that it was actually happening, Faye felt a little uncertain. "What if he doesn't like it? Or what if he chokes?" she asked, glancing at Quinn.

"He won't choke. We've got this, and we'll go slow. He's going to have so much fun with this."

With a deep breath, Faye walked over to James, placing the small bowl in front of him. His little hands immediately reached for the spoon in his mom's hands, eager to grab whatever was in reach. Quinn knelt down, phone camera in hand, ready to capture every moment for their families.

"Here we go, bubba," Faye whispered as she scooped up a bit of the rice cereal and offered it to him.

James tried to grab the spoon again, but instead of trying to put it in his mouth, he smeared it on his hand. "Well... that's one way to start."

Quinn laughed, "Looks like we've got a future artist on our hands."

They spent the next few minutes encouraging James, offering him small tastes of the cereal, though most of it ended up on his face, hands, and the high chair. Every bite was like a new experience of James, who made loud smacking sounds and grunts as he demanded more food.

Later that evening, they tried mashed sweet potatoes. Quinn held a spoonful out to James, who immediately leaned towards it, though most of it fell out of his mouth. But this time, Faye saw his face light up as he tasted it. He definitely liked it more than the cereal. "You like that, don't you?"

James responded with a happy, gurgling sound, orange puree smeared across his lips.

"That's my boy," Quinn said. "Eating like a champ."

Faye exchanged a look with him, grinning as he wiped a stray bit of sweet potato from James's nose. There was a growing closeness that neither of them had fully admitted, but both were beginning to feel.

~~

It was late, around 9, and the only sound in the apartment was the hum of the dishwasher. James had gone down easily after a long day of excitement, and Faye was curled up on the couch with a book while Quinn finished tidying up the kitchen. His eyes kept drifting over to her, the soft curve of her smile as she flipped through the pages of her novel.

He felt it then--like a weight settling on his chest. He was in love with her. Really, truly in love.

It wasn't just that he admired how good of a mother she was, or that they had built this life around James. It was the way she made their chaotic life feel... complete. The way she laughed, the way she challenged him, the way she looked at James like he was her entire world. Somewhere between the late-night feedings, baby giggles, and stolen moments of quiet, Quinn had fallen for her.

He wanted to say something, but every time he tried, the words caught in his throat. Was he supposed to? Was this the right time? He sighed, feeling the uncertainty. With a quick glance to make sure Faye was still absorbed in her book, Quinn slipped into the bedroom and dialed Jack's number.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Jack's voice was loud despite it being midnight where he was.

"I need your help," Quinn blurted out, his voice quiet. "It's about Faye."

There was a pause on the other end. "Wait--what kind of help? Are you in trouble?"

"No, no. Not like that." Quinn ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the room. "I think I'm in love with her, Jack. I know I'm in love with her. But I don't know how to tell her. Or if I even should."

"Whoa. Okay, first of all, that's awesome. But also, are you sure? Like... love, love?"

Quinn nodded, though Jack couldn't see him. "Yeah, man. I've never felt like this about anyone. Not even close. It's just... I don't wanna screw things up with her. Especially with James in the picture."

"Look, if you know you're in love with her, then you've gotta be honest. Don't hold it in until it's too late. She probably feels the same way, but even if she doesn't, you'll regret not telling her. You've already built something with her. Just be real."

"You're right. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this."

"Because it's real," Jack replied. "You care, that's why."

Quinn felt a sense of clarity wash over him. He didn't have all the answers, but he knew what he had to do. "Thanks, Jack. I'll figure it out."

He was in love with Faye, and somehow, that felt both terrifying and perfect all at once.

~~

7 months

James was babbling, rolling around on the floor with a bright green baby spoon in hand. The window was cracked slightly, letting in the crisp September breeze. Faye watched James from her desk, her laptop open to a half-finished essay for one of her online classes. Juggling motherhood and trying to finish her degree had been hard, but she was finally starting to find a rhythm, learning how to balance everything with a bit more confidence.

James on the verge of crawling--he could prop himself up on all fours, rocking back and forth, but hadn't quite figured out how to move forward yet. Every time he did it, Faye would hold her breath, wondering if today would be the day. So far, though, he seemed content to sit back down and continue his rolling, chewing on toys as he went.

In the kitchen, Quinn was prepping breakfast--he had been squeezing in family time whenever he could, especially with preseaon training and media appearances taking up most of his days. Hockey season was fast approaching, and as much as he loved being at home with Faye and James, Quinn could feel the pressure building. His days were getting busier, and he hated missing moments with James, especially with how fast he was growing.

"I swear, he's gonna start crawling the second you leave for practice," Faye called over her shoulder, eyeing James as he rocked again. "He's getting closer every day."

Quinn chuckled as he set down two plates on the table. "Of course. But knowing him, he'll wait for the exact moment we're not looking."

James babbled in agreement, kicking his feet as if to emphasize his point. Both Quinn and Faye turned to look at him, laughing as he rolled onto his back and gave them a big, gummy smile.

~~

Later that afternoon, after Quinn had left for practice, Faye sat on the floor, carefully spooning mashed carrots into James's mouth. He scrunched up his face at the unfamiliar taste, but after a few moments, he opened his mouth again, curious.

"Good job, baby," Faye cooed. James was eating more and more baby food, slowly transitioning away from breastfeeding--a shift that made Faye feel a bittersweet mix of emotions. Her plan had always been to stop breastfeeding around the 8-month mark, and with that deadline creeping closer, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of letting go of such a large part of their routine.

At the same time, though, she knew it was the right decision. James was growing, becoming more independent every day. She was proud of him, proud of how far they had come together, even if letting go of that last bit of babyhood felt daunting.

As James player with his spoon, Faye leaned back against the couch, glancing at her laptop on the coffee table. She was doing well with the school balance, using James's naptimes and the quiet moments after he went down for naps. It was hard work, but she liked the structure.

But even as she focused on her future, her mind drifted to Quinn. Over the past few months, she had really noticed the shift in how she felt about him. It was something deeper than co-parenting. Something that made her stomach flutter when he smiled at her, or when they got into bed after a long day.

She wasn't exactly sure when it happened, but she knew her feelings for him had changed. It was no longer just about James or being parents. It was about Quinn. She had fallen for him.

But for now, she kept it to herself, not ready to admit it. Not to Quinn, not even to herself really. There was too much at stake. And the last thing she wanted was to complicate the family dynamic they had created.

By the time Quinn got home, James was already in bed, his tiny snores filling the baby monitor on the coffee table. Faye was on the couch, scrolling through class notes while some medical drama played on the TV.

"You're up late," Quinn said, dropping his gym bag by the door.

"Just finishing up some homework. How was practice?" she smiled tiredly.

"Exhausting," he sighed, their legs brushing as he sat next to her. "I missed James, though. He almost crawl yet?"

"Not today. But you might want to cancel all your plans for tomorrow. I think he's planning something big."

Quinn chuckled, but Faye could hear the exhaustion in his voice. She turned to look at him, sweaty and tired, but still there for her and James.

"You're doing great," she said softly. "I know things are getting busy, but you're still here. You're still with us."

"Thanks, Faye."

~~

8 months

Faye moved through the kitchen, preparing a bottle for James, while Quinn sat on the floor in the living room, watching their son as he crawled around, exploring every nook and cranny he could find. James was fast, his hands and knees carrying him across the floor with a newfound determination. Quinn couldn't take his eyes off him--each moment with James a reminder of how quickly his baby boy was growing up.

"You're fast, huh?" Quinn called out, grinning as James crawled back toward him, babbling away. "What're you trying to say, Baby Hughes?"

James stopped right in front of him, rocking back on his knees. His big blue eyes focused intently on his dad, and he raised his arms as if he was about to say something important. For a second, there was nothing but silence, and then...

"Dada."

Quinn's heart stopped.

He blinked, staring at James in shock, unsure if he'd really just heard what he thought he had. "Did... did you just say 'dada'?" Quinn whispered.

James giggled. "Dada!"

Quinn scooped him up into his arms, laughing with pure joy. "That's right, buddy! I'm Dada!" He pressed kisses to the top of James's head in disbelief.

Faye rushed into the room, a questioning look on her face. "What's going on?"

"He said it," Quinn beamed. "He said 'dada.'"

Faye's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as she knelt down beside them. "He did?! Oh my God, he said it?!"

James, delighted by all the attention, clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with himself. Faye leaned in, pressing kisses to his cheeks. It was just them, their family, in their own perfect little moment.

~~

Faye stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the Canucks jersery she had put on James. The jersey was loose around him, but the back said it all--"Daddy" with Quinn's number 43 beneath it. It was a custom jersey that Quinn had ordered months ago, waiting for the perfect moment for James to wear it. And tonight was that night.

She knelt down, fitting James with his oversized baby headphones. The large, puffy protectors looked comically big on his head, but he didn't seem to mind them. His eyes were wide as she strapped him into the baby carrier, ready for his very first hockey game.

Faye was nervous. It was her first time sitting in the WAG section. She'd met some of them casually, but this was different. She stepping into a world as more than just the mother of Quinn's child.

The women greeted her warmly. A few of them fawning over James, who was peeking out from his carrier, taking in all the sights. "Oh my God! He's adorable!" one of them gushed, lightly touching his jersey. "And that jersey! So cute!"

Faye smiled, pulling him from his seat. "Yeah, Quinn had it made. First game day."

"You guys must be so excited," another chimed in. "You and Quinn must be like so happy right now."

"Oh, we're not... sorry, we are. We're so happy to have James here. Quinn is like the best to co-parent with."

There was a brief pause before the women exchanged surprised glances. "Really? I... wow, I just... the way he talks about you and James, it seemed like..."

Faye felt her cheeks flush, why had she said anything. "It's fine. We're not together... just working together to parent James."

~~

As the game started, James's head bobbed back and forth, his eyes tracking all the things happening around him. Faye held him close, watching the game unfold below as the Canucks took the lead in the first period. She was surprised that the bright lights and noise weren't bothering James--he seemed enthralled if anything.

When Quinn skated onto the ice, Faye felt her heart swell with pride. She glanced down at James, who was happily chewing on his fist beneath his massive headphones. "There's Dada," she whispered, her lips brushing the top of his head. "Look at him go!"

At the end of the first, Quinn looked up towards the family suite, offering a small wave even though he couldn't quite make them out from so far. Faye waved back, but decided it was time to head out. James was starting to fuss and she didn't want to push him too hard. As they left the arena, Faye shot Quinn a text, telling him how proud they both were and how much James adored his first hockey game.

It would be the first of many.

~~

James had officially entered the phase where everything within reach ended up in his mouth. From his toys to Quinn's dress shoes, nothing was safe from his curious hands. Faye and Quinn had been busy, crawling around the apartment on their hands and knees, checking for potential hazards and baby-proofing every corner. The cabinets were locked, electrical outlets covered, and sharp edges padded.

James, however, seemed unfazed by their efforts, determined to chew on anything that came his way.

"Looks like he's after your hockey stick," Faye teased, watching as James, equipped with a teething toy, crawled toward Quinn's gear bag by the door.

Quinn swooped in, scooping James up and giving him a playful toss in the air. "Nice try, buddy, but you're not getting your hands on that just yet."

James squealed his delight. He was becoming more independent in his play, spending longer stretches rolling around with his toys, but there was something about playing with Quinn that always brought out his loudest laughs. Quinn loved it too. Whenever he had a break from the rink, Faye could find them building block towers, playing peek-a-boo, or engaging in a game of chase around the baby-proofed living room.

That evening, after a long day of chasing James around the apartment, Faye had finally gotten him down for the night. She stood in the living room, picking up James's toys scattered around, lost in thought. It had become part of her nightly routine--cleaning up the remnants of their busy days, reflecting on how much had changed.

Quinn emerged from their bedroom, lingering by the doorway for a moment as he watched Faye tidy up. She didn't notice him right away, too focused on straightening up the apartment.

"Faye," he said softly, his voice cutting through the silence.

She jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence. "Hey. I thought you went to bed."

He moved toward her with a seriousness in his eyes she hadn't seen in a long time. "I've been thinking about something for a while... and I don't want to keep it to myself anymore."

"What is it?"

Quinn took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was stressed. "I'm in love with you," his voice was raw, vulnerable. "I know I've probably been in love with you for a while now, but I couldn't admit it--to myself or to you. But I can't keep pretending. I'm in love with you, Faye."

Faye froze, the words hanging in their air around them. She wasn't sure what to say. She had felt it too--the growing connection between them, the way her heart raced when he was around, the way he made her feel safe. But hearing him say it out loud, took her completely by surprise.

"Quinn..." she whispered. "I... I love you too."

The words had been spoken. There was no turning back.

Quinn's face softened and he stepped closer, gently cupping her face in his hands. Their eyes met, and the world around them seemed to fade. Slowly, he leaned in, and Faye closed the gap, their lips meeting in soft, meaningful kiss.

It wasn't rushed or uncertain. It was tender, full of all the things they had never said before. When they finally pulled apart, Faye looked up at him, love in her eyes.

"I've been wanting to say that for so long," he whispered, leaning his forehead agaisnt hers.

"Me too."

Everything felt right... more than right. It felt like the start of something new, something real, something they both knew had been there all along.

~~

9 months

James was full of energy, pulling himself up to stand using the edge of the couch, his legs wobbly as he gripped the fabric. Faye stood nearby, ready to catch him if he lost his balance, but James's focus was elsewhere. He had become fascinated by music, especially when James and Faye sang to him. He loved it so much that he would start bouncing to the rhythm, his knees bending as he held onto the couch for support. Just as he was doing now, dancing to the music Faye had playing through the TV.

"Look at you, little dancer," she laughed, watching him bounce up and down, his face lighting up. His giggles joined the music, bounching with the melody.

Quinn, who had just come home from practice, leaned against the doorframe. "He's gonna be a musician at this rate," he joked, walking over to join them. Jame's eyes darted to his dad, his smile widening as he continued to dance.

"Dada! Dada!" he squealed.

As much as Faye and Quinn wanted to believe he knew what he was saying, the pediatrician had told them that James had yet to associate the word with Quinn. It was just the only word he could say, so he said it ALL the time.

Quinn bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of James's head. "That's right. I'm Dada."

~~

Faye placed a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes onto the tray of James's high chair tray. His hands reached for the food, eager to explore the new texture. He picked up a "handful" and brought it to his mouth, smearing most of it across his face but managing to get some in his mouth. He eyes lit up, and he made a delighted sound, flapping his arms as if to sign for his approval.

"He loves it!" Faye smiled, wiping his cheeks with a warm washcloth.

"Well, we can add that to his list of favourites." Quinn leaned forward, placing a bit of steamed broccoli on the tray next. "Let's see how he feels about this."

James picked it up, his expression puzzled before he shoved it in his mouth. He made a face, spitting most of it out, but then grabbed another piece, curious enough to try it again. Quinn and Faye laughed at his determination to eat the broccoli that he didn't even seem to like.

~~

As soon as James was "realeased" from his high chair, he crawled over to his stuffed rabbit. The toy had been gifted to him by Ellen and Jim when he was born. It had become his biggest comfort, going with him everything, especially when he was upset. Lately, he had become particularly attached to it, making "grabby hands" whenever he couldn't reach it.

"Where's your lovey?" Faye asked as James crawled toward the couch, reaching for the bunny. She handed it to him, watching as he clutched it to his chest, giving it a big hug. "There you go, bubba. All better."

Quinn, too, had noticed this new attachment, and without telling Faye, he had already ordered a second rabbit online. He didn't want to risk a meltdown if something ever happened to the original.

As they got ready for bed, a knock came at the door. It was a neighbour who was asking to see if they'd been having the same issue she was in their apartment. The moment she left, James who had been watching from the floor, waved his hand enthusiastically, repeating his new favourite trick.

"Are you saying 'bye-bye?'" Faye laughed. "You're such a smart boy."

~~

Faye stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress for the tenth time. It had been months since she'd properly gone out. And now that she wasn't breastfeeding, the thought of drinks with the WAGs was tempting. But still, the nagging worry about leaving James tugged at her.

"You look amazing," Quinn said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You should go. It'll be good for you."

Faye met his eyes in the mirror, chewing on her bottom lip. "What if he needs me? I feel like he always knows when I'm leaving."

As if on cue, James, who had happily been playing on the floor, caught sight of her near the front door and immediately starting screeching, his arms outstretched in protest.

Faye groaned, turning to Quinn. "See?"

Quinn picked him up, bouncing him lightly in his arms. "I've got him. Go out, have fun. He's with me, and we'll be fine."

She hesitated, but the promise of a night with the girls, free from mom duties, was far too tempting. "Okay," she agreed, grabbing her purse. "But if anything happens--"

"I'll call you. Now go," he interrupted, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

~~

It felt liberating to be out in the world again, without a diaper bag or baby wipes, just her and the girls.

"You made it!" one of the girls exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. "We were starting to think you'd never leave that adorable baby behind!"

Faye laughed, taking a sip of the cocktail someone had ordered for her. "I almost didn't. He screeched the second he saw me heading for the door."

"That's what they do," another girl said knowingly. "They always make you feel guilty, but trust me, Quinn's got this. He's great with James."

"Yeah, he really is the best."

A few of the girls exchanged knowing looks before one of them grinned, leaning in closer. "So, does that mean you two are, like, official now?"

Faye bit her lip, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Actually... yeah. We're official. Quinn's my boyfriend."

The table erupted into cheers, the girls hugging Faye and bombarding her with questions. They had all assumed for months that something was happening between Faye and Quinn, but hearing it confirmed had sent them into hysterics.

"You two are so cute together!"

"I knew it! He's like so in love with you!"

Faye blushed as the table toasted to her and Quinn. It felt good--really, really good--to finally say it out loud. Quinn was hers, and she was his.

~~

When Faye got home, all the lights were off. She kicked off her heels, tiptoeing into the living room, and the sight made her heart melt. There, on the couch, were Quinn and James--both sound asleep. James was sprawled on Quinn's chest, his tiny fist clutching the fabric of Quinn's shirts, his lovey on the floor next to them.

Faye pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture, smiling as she set it as her new phone background, replacing the picture of her and a newborn James in the hospital.

Careful not to wake Quinn too suddenly, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we've gotta get him in his crib."

Quinn stirred, blinking groggily as he looked down at James. "Oh, right," he mumbled, carefully lifting their son into his arms.

Faye followed him into the office they had made into James's bedroom, the two of them working together to get him into bed. As they stood over the crib, watching James settle into sleep, Faye whispered, "I can't believe that we could create something so incredible."

Quinn wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Yeah, we did. I can't believe it either."

After moving across the hall to their room, Quinn spoke up again. "I missed you tonight."

"I missed you too. The girls were happy for us."

"Yeah?"

"They all assumed we were together already," Faye whispered, her breath catching as Quinn leaned in.

"Well, they're right now," his lips brushed hers.

"I love you."

"I love you too"

~~

The house was quiet when Faye, Quinn, and James made their way downstairs on Christmas morning. The lights on the tree reflecting off the ornaments and setting the scene perfectly. Faye's parents were already in the living room, waiting with coffee in hand, their smiles warm but reserved. Faye hated the tension that was still there. Even though they had been kind and welcoming since their arrival, Faye knew deep down, that her parents hadn't fully come to terms with the path her life had taken.

Her father looked up from his tablet, offering a smile when he saw James. "Good morning, little buddy," his expression softening for his grandson.

Faye took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on James as she sat next to Quinn on the other sofa. They were trying to show her parents that things were working, that Quinn was a good day and an even better partner. But her parents' unspoken disapproval of the fact that Quinn had, in their eyes, "ruined" their' daughter's future was still there.

As Quinn moved James to his lap, helping him unwrap one of his gifts, Faye noticed her mom watching them with a furrowed brow. "He's getting so big."

Faye nodded, leaning over to pull a piece of wrapped paper from James's mouth. "He's growing fast."

"We've been trying to get him used to solid foods," Quinn chimed in, telling her parents about their grandson's latest milestone. "He's still not sure about broccoli, though."

Her parents chuckled slightly, but it felt forced. Quinn was trying so hard to prove himself, and she was just desperate for her parents to see what she saw--that he was a loving, attentive father and boyfriend.

And as the morning went on, the mood lightened. James, giggling and crawling around the room with his new toys, brought a warmth to everyone. Faye watched as her dad bent down to play with James, and for the first time that morning, she saw genuine joy in her father's eyes.

"Look at that," her mom whispered to her. "He's a little explorer, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is. Everyone always says he takes after Quinn."

"Well... isn't that something."

~~

By early afternoon, the family of three had moved on to the Hughes household. Jack and Luke met them at the door, their faces lighting up when they saw James bundled up in his little snowsuit.

"There he is!" Jack called out, basically snatching the baby from Quinn as soon as they were inside. "Merry Christmas, Baby Hughes!"

James squealed in response, grabbing at Jack's hair in excitement. "Dada! Dada!"

"I'm not your Dada, silly," Jack laughed, tossing James into the air much to his delight.

Faye felt an ease that she hadn't felt at her own home. There was no unspoken judgement or grudges. Everyone was happy to be together. To spend their Christmas with people they loved.

"Look at him, all bundled! He's like a Quinn clone, huh?" Ellen said, pulling Faye into a hug, before turning to Quinn. "You two look happy."

"We are."

James spent the afternoon crawling around, pulling himself up on furniture, determined to keep up with his two favourite family members, Jack and Luke. Faye couldn't help but smile as Luke helped him stand, his hands steadying his nephew as he bounced up and down, giggling.

"Babababa!" James exclaimed, earning a nod from Luke.

"I couldn't agree more, James. You're so right."

"What're you two talking about?" Quinn asked, patting his youngest brother on the back.

"He was just telling me that he has the best dad ever."

"He really does," Faye agreed, scrunching her face as Quinn pressed a kiss to her nose.

"I love you," Quinn mouthed, pulling Faye onto his lap.

"I love you more," she whispered back.

"Impossible."

~~

10 months

James babbled as he carefully pilied the colourful rings of his stacking toy on top of each other, only to knock them over and start again, squealing at the result.

"Getting pretty good at that," Quinn nodded, shooting a look to a half-awake Faye standing by the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, he loves those things," she said with a tired smile. James had become increasinly attached to her, to the point that she could barely move without him following close behind, ready to cry.

Faye took a deep breath, trying to mask her weariness. "He's such a mama's boy," she added with a chuckle, though it was clear the constant attention was getting to her. James's separation anxiety was growing stronger each day.

"He'll outgrow it," Quinn said softly. "It's a phase but I know it's hard."

"I can't even go to the bathroom without him losing his mind. I love that he's attached, but... I'm exhausted, Quinn. I feel like I can't get anything done around here."

James, as if sensing he wasn't the centre of attention, looked up from his toys and spotted Faye standing by the counter. His face scrunched up and he let out a loud wail, crocodile tears already streaming, he crawled to her as fast as he could.

She sighed, setting down her coffee and scooping up James, his cries softening the second he had a handful of her shirt. He clung to her like Velcro, his head resting on her shoulder.

"There we go, buddy," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. "Mama's here."

~~

James had been extra clingy, refusing to play unlesss Faye was sitting next to him, but he seeemed content for now, crawling around with his Lovey.

Quinn sat on the floor, his legs stretched out as James crawled back and forth between him and Faye, occasionally stopping to blow kisses, something he'd recently mastered. He loved blowing kisses to anyone who would watch, his hand slapping against his mouth before sending the kiss off with a giggle.

"He's obsessed with you too," Faye laughed as James babbled to Quinn, still clutching his Lovey.

"He's obsessed with you more."

Suddenly, James crawled to the edge of the couch, pulling himself up. He stood there for a moment, wobbling slightly but steadying himself by holding onto the cushions. Faye and Quinn watched quietly, not wanting to break his concentration.

And then, in a moment that seemed to go in slow motion, James let go of the couch.

He stood there, swaying for a second, and then took one tiny step. Then another.

"Quinn, look!" Faye gasped, swatting at her boyfriend's leg. "He's walking!"

"James, bud, you're doing it!"

James took one more shaky step before falling onto his butt in a fit of giggles. Faye and Quinn burst into cheers, clapping for his first real steps.

Faye picked him up, smothering him in kisses as he babbled "mama. dada," between his giggles. He didn't know why they were so excited, but he was eating up the attention. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

"Growing up so fast."

"Too fast."

~~

11 months

James toddled across the living room, his legs carrying him to his toy kitchen with a newfound confidence. He reached for a plastic pot, stirring it with a spoon, before grabbing a plastic carrot. Wobbling back over to Faye, who was seated on the couch with a cup of coffee, he proudly held it up for her to see.

"Mama, mo!" James said, grinning as he pushed the plastic carrot toward her, expecting her to "eat" it.

Faye laughed, leaning down to take a bite. "Mmm, delicious, bub!" James giggled, returning to his kitchen to give Lovey a taste as well.

"Looks like someone's been busy," Quinn crouched down next to James. "What're we cooking today, Chef Hughes?"

James held up the carrot again. "Dada! Mo?"

"More? Alright, I'll take some more," Quinn also took a pretend bite of the carrot.

James, seemingly satisfied with his parents' reactions, continued to "cook." Throwing things into the small pot that surely didn't go together. Some plastic spaghetti mixed with some plastic ice cream. He was experimenting with flavours, that was for sure.

The only downside of his confidence in walking was that it was even harder for Faye to escape him. His separation anxiety hadn't eased at all, it had gotten worse. He would cry if she dared to leave the room. Whether she was folding laundry, cooking dinner, or trying to take a shower, he was there waddling after her.

"I was thinking about taking James for a walk. You can take a bath, get ready for date night if you're still up for it."

"That sounds perfect. And I'm not missing date night for the world. God knows we need it."

~~

Faye sat across from Quinn, sipping on some expensive wine he'd ordered for them. The conversation between them was flowly easily--telling stories from their university years, discussing James and how big he was getting, simply enjoying each other's company.

"I love when it's just us. Don't get me wrong, James is the best thing to ever happen to me, but... we never got to experience the regular dating stage."

Quinn smiled, "Me too. I like having a moment alone with you that isn't us getting ready to sleep."

Faye had fallen in love with Quinn slowly, over time, but moments like that made her realize how much their love had grown. He wasn't just the father of her child--he was everything.

As the night went on, they moved from the restaurant to a quiet bar. Quinn leaned in closer, his hand resting on her thigh, his voice dropping. "You're so beautiful."

"Thanks, Q. You're not too bad yourself."

His gaze shifted, his fingers brushing lightly over her exposed skin. "Let's get out of here."

~~

12 months

The living room was decorated with soft blue and white balloons, streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a large banner that read Happy 1st Birthday, James! The coffee table held a neatly wrapped pile of gifts, and at the centre of the kitchen room table was James's smash cake--covered in light blue frosting with tiny white stars piped along the edges.

Faye was adjusting some last-minute details while Quinn brought James over to the guests. They had kept the party small, just a few of Quinn's teammates, their partners, and some of their kids. It was the perfect way to celebrate without overwhelming James with too many new people.

"Look at him," Quinn said, pride shining in his eyes as James toddled over to Brock with his Lovey in hand, showing it off to his dad's friends. "He's so big already."

"He really is," Faye replied. Watching James reach his first birthday felt surreal--it was hard to believe how much he'd grown over the past year, how he'd gone from a newborn to this curious, adventurous little boy.

James was in his element, giggling and chasing after some of the older kids, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. He had only recently starting running--well, running as much as he could--and even though he tumbled over constantly, he was always ready to bounce back up, laughing each time like it was all part of the fun.

"He's tough," Elias commented with a grin as they watched James take a small fall before pushing himself back to his feet, his face lighting up as he ran toward Quinn. "Guess that runs in the family."

Quinn chuckled, reaching down to pick him up. "Yeah, he's a little warrior."

~~

When it was time for the cake, everyone gathered around, singing as Faye placed the cake in front of the birthday boy. His eyes widened at the sight of the blue frosting, and without hesitation, he plunged both hands into the cake, squishing it between his fingers before bringing a handful to his mouth.

The room erupted into laughter as James smeared the frosting across his cheeks and nose. He squealed happily, clapping his sticky hands together, making a mess as Faye and Quinn watched on proudly.

"He's having the time of his life," Faye laughed, snapping pictures of the moment while Quinn wiped a bit of frosting from James's dark curls.

"Not sure he's ever been this happy," Quinn added as he watched their son enjoy his first taste of birthday cake.

James, now fully engrossed in smashing the cake to pieces, occasionally grabbed a piece and offered it to Quinn and Faye, babbling happily as if inviting them to join him. Faye pretended to take a bite, saying "mmm" as she wiped more frosting from his hair.

Once he was all clean, James got to open his presents. They were mostly clothes but his favourite was a toy truck gifted by Brock. He wanted it out of the packaging as soon as he tore paper off, pointing at it and chanting "dada."

He was quick to run around the room with it, putting all his toys in the back of it, then dumping them out in a pile and starting again. Faye couldn't believe how confident he'd become around people he knew. He'd grown so much in 12 months.

"Can you believe he's already one?" Quinn asked, pulling Faye into his side.

"No... it feels like just yesterday we brough him home from the hospital."

"We've got a pretty amazing little boy, don't we?"

"We really do."

~~

Faye stood in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and winding down for the night. But there was a nagging feeling in her brain, one that she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried. Something felt off. But she couldn't quite place it. The only other time she'd felt like that before was...

Was she pregnant?

She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but the thought was ever present. It felt impossible--she and Quinn hadn't even discussed having more kids yet. They were still trying to perfect their balance with James, and now that he'd just turned one, the idea of another baby was very overwhelming.

She dug through one of the drawers under the sink, trying to find the tests they'd bought just in case. Her hands were trembling as she unwrapped it. The wait felt like hours, though it was maybe four minutes, and when she finally glanced at the test, her heart sank.

+

She felt like she was right back where she'd been two years ago, staring at a positive test and trying to process the reality of an unplanned pregnancy. They hadn't talked about this. They hadn't planned for this. They were careful now. They used condoms every time they slept together.

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, her hands shaking. The piece of plastic fell to the floor with a clack. James was just now walking, they had just celebrated his first birthday, and the chaos of parenting had already left her feeling stretched thin. How were they supposed to manage two kids under two?

She felt the same emotions as the first time. The fear, the anxiety, and the excitement. But mostly, she was stressed. What would Quinn think? How would he react? They hadn't talked about having another baby, and she wasn't sure he was ready for this news.

For now, she'd keep it to herself. To process it, to figure how she felt before bringing Quinn into it. But maybe just like James... this was another unexpected gift in her life.

~~

Faye and Quinn were getting ready for bed, the room softly lit by their bedside lamps. Faye was standing by their dresser, brushing her hair, her mind still trying to catch up with everything that had happened so far in March. James turning one, the party, finding out she was pregnant... what a whirlwind.

She gave Quinn some side-eye. He was being unusually quiet, his movements slow as he changed into his boxers. He had been fidgety all day, like something was weighing on him, and Faye couldn't help but wonder if he sensed her unease. She was still trying to figure out how to tell him, in fact, she was still working on processing it herself.

"Everything okay?"

Quinn looked over at her, taking a deep breath, clearly nervous. "Yeah," his voice was quieter than usual. "There's just... something I've been wanting to ask you."

Faye scrunched up her face in confusion as he walked over to his nightstand and pulled something from the drawer. Her heart skipped a beat when he saw the small velvet box in his hand, and suddenly, all her other thoughts melted away.

He took a shaky breath, standing in front of her, his fingers fidgeting with the box. "I know it's early," he began, "and maybe it's not the perfect moment, but... this family is everything to me. You and James--you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to wait any longer."

He opened the box, revealing a dainty, beautiful ring. "I love you, Faye. I love our life together, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

For a moment, Faye couldn't speak, the weight of his words hitting her like a truck. "Yes," she whispered, clearing her throat. "Of course, yes."

Quinn slipped the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a hug. It wasn't flashy or over-the-top, it was just them, in the quiet of their room, with the life they'd created. And it was perfect.

~~

13 months

James had three words in his arsenal now: "mama," "dada," and his favourite "doggy." Anytime Faye or Quinn took him on a walk, he would eagerly point at every dog they passed, his little finger stretched out, shouting "doggy!" with a wide grin. He was utterly obsessed.

Faye loved how seriously he took his dog-spotting duties, pointing at each dog with the same amount of energy, as though it was the first time he'd ever seen one. He was so curious about the world around him and it brought Faye so much joy.

"Doggy!" James shouted, shoving his plush golden retriever in his mom's face.

"Yeah, that's your doggy."

He had also mastered the art of drinking from a cup--or at least, he was trying to. Every meal came with the thrill of watching James tip his little plastic cup back, usually spilling half the water on himself before getting a successful sip. But he was determined, even if the messes were endless. Strong-willed just like his dad.

But nothing got James as excited as he was when he saw Quinn on the TV. Anytime a game was on and Quinn's face appeared, James would point excitedly, bouncing in place. "Dada! Dada!" he shouted, over and over again, as if the more he said it, the closer Quinn would be to hearing it.

Faye sat beside him, giggling at how easily James recognized his dad, even through the screen. She leaned over, kissing his cheek. "You love watching Dada, don't you?"

"Dada!"

"Can you say 'go Dada'?"

"O Dada!"

"Good job! Go Dada!"

~~

Quinn was sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. Faye had spent days going over how to tell him about the pregnancy. The positive test had been hidden away in her underwear drawer, as if that would keep it from being real.

He had been her rock since James was born, and now that they were officially engaged, she knew he'd be there for her. But this pregnancy wasn't planned again, and the shock of it had her feeling vulnerable, just like she had when she found out about James.

"Quinn, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Quinn looked up as soon as he heard the seriousness in her voice. He put his phone down, his face covered in concern. "What's wrong?"

Instinctively she placed a hand on her stomach, "I... I'm pregnant."

The air between them seemed to still. Quinn's eyes were wide, and he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, attempting to process what she was saying.

"You're... pregnant?" he repeated, his voice full of disbelief but not in a bad way--more of a he was trying to catch up kind of way.

"I know it's a shock. We didn't plan this, and I've been so scared to tell you because we haven't even talked about having another baby yet. I just... I don't know how we're going to handle this. I'm terrified."

Quinn stood frozen for another few seconds before he wrapped her into a bear hug, rocking them back and forth. "Faye... this is amazing."

"You're not upset?" she pulled away, looking at him with tears in her eyes.

"Upset? No. I'm not upset. I'm... I'm shocked, yeah. But I'm excited. We've made this beautiful little family together, and now we're adding to it. How could I bet upset about that?"

Faye's fear slowly dissipated as Quinn's words sank in. "I was so scared to tell you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't want you to feel like we weren't ready."

Quinn cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs brushing away tears as they fell. "Faye, we're going to be okay. I know it wasn't planned, but that doesn't change how much I love you or how excited I am to add to our family. And this time, you won't go through it alone. I'll be here for everything. Every doctor's appointment, every late night--everything."

"I love you," she whispered, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words.

"I love you too. We're going to be okay, Faye. We've got this."

Faye knew that the pregnancy was going to be a challenge, but she'd have Quinn by her side this time. And that made it feel slightly less terrifying.

Quinn pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. "Our little family is growing... and I couldn't be happier."

"Who knew all of this could come from a college party."

[puck-bunnies]

or nah..?

quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, oral sex (m and f receiving), degrading, praising, dom!quinn, semi public sex, car sex

word count: 2.1k

getting into a argument after a tough loss, the only way you can resolve your fight is by quinn bossing you around. can you take all of him, or nah…?

“it’s not your fault quinn, you played the best you could.” we’re on the road driving home from the canucks game. they lost 4-1, he’s beating himself up, thinking he lead his team to failure, against an easily beatable team at that. quinn’s fingers grip harshly on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with pressure. i notice his jaw clench, teeth grinding together as he lightly speeds down the dark road.

he doesn’t talk to me, there isn’t much to say. i look out the window, not daring to look at him in his angered manner. “what do you want from me quinn, do you want me to coddle you and tell you everything will be okay?” i bicker at him, my short temper showing when i know this isn’t a good time. my heart regrets the second those words escape my lips.

his teeth pierce the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows squeeze together in annoyance. “jesus Y/N, can you take five seconds off to being a complete asshole.” i’m not stunned by his words, we often have disagreements and bicker back and forth, but it always ends in the same thing. hate sex.

“i’m not the one who’s moping around because his team lost one game, it’s not the end of the world quinn.” i roll my eyes and look out the window.

he huffs, “don’t roll your eyes at me Y/N, i’ll give you a reason to roll your eyes.” quinn’s grip tightens on the wheel, turning into a backroad on the way to our house. i don’t listen to him, rolling my eyes at his bitchy demeanour again. he pulls over on the side of the road and slams on the breaks, making me wince with a jump. “out of the car, now.” he demands, i don’t waste a second to work with his wishes.

the cold winter air hits me hard, my cheeks and nose flushing with a blush. quinn slams the car door once he steps out of the drives seat, rounding the car and meeting me on the side of the abandoned road. popping open the back car door, he sits on the seat, facing me on the outside. “on your knees.” he husks.

i don’t hesitate, the rubble piercing my exposed skin as i’m only wearing a skirt, i don’t mind it, just ready for what’s in store my adrenaline overrides the soft pain. quinn unzips his own jeans, “you’re going to suck my cock like the slut you are. it’ll keep your mouth shut for once.” his eyes glare down at me, shimmying his jeans and boxers off of his hips.

quinn’s already hard cock springs out of his boxers, hitting the bottom of his stomach before coming back at my face. my fingers graze his light pink tip that’s already coated in pre cum, softly rubbing before going down the shaft, warming up his needy cock. i lower my head down, swirling my teasing tongue around the head, my spit coating his aching cock. “don’t be tease now. take it all.” quinn forms my hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling the roots of my hair enough to make me wince.

i curse under my breath, he bucks his hips up, letting himself slide into my warm and wet mouth. my hand goes down to his base, playing with the length i haven’t touched yet. my tongue acts as a pillow for his cock, laying on it as i slide myself down farther. it doesn’t take long for quinn’s length to hit the back of my throat, he stops forcing himself farther when he feels be gag too much.

easing his hips back before bucking themselves up again. my hand corkscrews the rest of his base, my other resting on quinn’s thigh to steady myself. he uses his hands to guide my head up and down while thrusting his hips, fucking my face softly at first. it doesn’t take long for him to start getting rougher, hitting the back of my throat to receive a little gag every stroke.

i dig my nails into his thigh, my pussy starting to drip with need and desire to be filled with him. i clench around nothing, trying to give myself a little something to feel good with. i take my hand off of his thigh, running down my body to my crotch. my fingers slide up and down my clothed cunt, pressing harder where my clit sits, getting a soft moan around quinn’s cock as i hit my sensitive bud.

he pulls my hair up, his cock leaving my mouth with a soft pop. “are you touching yourself while sucking my cock?” he asks in a rough manner, i nod, not being able to find words. “what makes you think you deserve that. you’ve been nothing but a brat, make me cum and maybe you’ll get something in return.”

my eyes are soft and wide as i look up at him, dragging my hand away from my desperate cunt and back onto his thigh. “good girl.” he mutters. before he can ask me to, i take him back into my mouth, sliding down till it hits the very back of my throat. quinn groans with surprise above me, letting out a soft whimper as he tightens his grip on my hair, pushing me up and down with ease.

my tongue drags up and down, feeling every vein that runs up his length. my freshly manicured nails dig into his skin, my thighs clench together to cause the friction that it so needs.

quinn turns into a groaning mess above me, every time i get to his tip and circle my tongue around it he softly whimpers. sliding my mouth back down on his cock, the sound of a passing car makes my stomach burn with anxiety. it makes me stop in my tracks, quinn’s cock filling up my mouth but my head doesn’t move an inch. i feel his burning gaze down at me, scolding me for stopping.

“no one’s doing to see us, don’t stop, not now.” he practically growls at me. he pushes my head down him farther, taking control of me. i let him continue his control, pulling my head by my hair back up his cock. he bucks his hips at the same time, not letting himself slip out of the warmness of my mouth again. i soft moan against him, “oh yeah..? you like when i fuck your mouth like this?” quinn’s voice comes out in a groan, showing his neediness for me but his dominance over me at the same time.

i can tell he’s getting close as his thighs clench underneath my hands, his thrusts up into my mouth becoming more needy. every time his tip hits the back of my throat making me gag gets him closer, groans filling the night air.

“fuck.” he curses out, then i feel it. liquid spitting out of his cock as his pace slows, chasing his own high desperately. my eyes stay trained on his face as he tilts his head back, his eyes screwing shut as he lets his orgasm take over him.

quinn pulls my head back up, his spent dick falling out of my mouth. he smirks at me, acknowledging the talent i have with just my mouth. “see, it wasn’t that hard to be good.” he whispers, pulling me up his body.

quinn’s lips smash onto mine, my teeth biting down on his bottom lip to let my tongue slide in, letting him taste the hint of him that still lingers in my mouth. he releases his grasp on my hair, instead falling down to my waist as he replaces my tongue with his, filling up my mouth.

he suddenly backs away, getting up from the car seat and joining me in standing next to the car. i don’t expect him to slam the door shut, his hands going back to my waist to pin me against the closed door. hands running down my sides to my ass, giving it a tight squeeze receiving a soft hum from me.

quinn lowers his body, kneeling on the ground as his hands slowly make way down my naked legs. my leg gets lifted, hooking onto his shoulder to let him look up at my core. getting a glimpse of my black laced panties, he slides a singer up my folds, landing on my clit, giving it a teasing rub. i take a deep breath in through my teeth, my pussy clenching around nothing as i badly crave for more of him.

he hooks two fingers in the side of my panties, moving them to the side to get an easy view of my soaked pussy. i don’t miss the smirk on his face, he always takes pleasure in seeing what i do to him, even just by sucking him off.

he replaces his fingers with his mouth, giving me a soft and teasing kiss on my clit. my hand gravitates to his hair, pulling at his soft brown curls. i push him closer to me, needing more of him so badly. he pulls against my wishes, not granting me the one thing i need so badly.

“be patient baby.” quinn’s demeanour changes from the once demanding man to a soft and gentle one. that’s how quinn always is when he eats me out, soft and praising as he gets drunk off the taste of my pussy.

he finally goes back in, his tongue flicking softly against my sensitive bud. the stubble of his growing out beard rubs against the inside of my thighs making me whimper. my knees buckle as i try not to fall from the pleasure, my back slightly arching off the cold car door being me. my head rolls back softy as quinn slides a finger into me, “keep your eyes on me pretty girl.” he softly demands of me. it’s one of his rules in bed, when he’s eating me out, my eyes have to stay on his.

i oblige, staring down at him as his mouth disappears under my skirt. my hands grab the hem of my skirt, hiking it up so i can see more of what he does to me. his tongue circling my aching clit as he adds a second finger into my hole, my walls clenching with the new added filling.

i mumble curses under my breath, quinn’s fingers curling up to my g-spot instead of jamming in and out. he takes his time with me, my hands pushing him in farther as i already feel my orgasm coming up to me, about to hit me like a bus. quinn knows it’s coming too, the quickness of his tongue against me rabidly increasing with every lick. his grip on my thigh that’s laying on his shoulder tightening, and the other on my ass playing with it.

my body can’t take it anymore, clenching one more time around him as i set my release. my loud moans filling the chilly air around me, my breath leaving with a smell smoke of air. i don’t realize the closing of my thighs, capturing quinn who has to guide my legs apart to release himself.

his fingers leave me, making me feel empty again. he slides them into his mouth, licking me off of them before doing the same against my folds. i wince slightly, my still sensitive pussy being cleaned by quinn’s tongue. “you taste so good baby.” he mumbles against me making me whimper once more.

he finishes, climbing back up my body to press his lips back against mine. this time i taste myself along his lips and tongue, moaning at the taste of sex between our mouths. “see, it doesn’t take a lot for you to be good.” quinn whispers to me.

the passenger door opens as he pulls it, letting me slip into the chair. he rounds the car, slipping into the drivers seat beside me. we finish our drive him, finally both getting the rest we so desperately need.

[happy74827]

Something Wholesome

[Logan Howlett & Teen!Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: In which you can’t help but feel the need to comfort the big grumpy ape.

WC: 2054

Category: Comfort, Slight Fluff, Reader is Vanessa’s Younger Sister, 4th Wall Breaks {TW: Wade Being… Well, Himself.}

Even being the worst Wolverine, I believe he still is 100% a girl dad, and I stand by that statement.

『••✎••』

"I thought you quit?"

Your voice startled him. He jumped and almost dropped the cigar he was holding between his teeth. Logan's eyes fell upon you, standing in the kitchen doorway with your arms folded.

"Jesus, kid. You're gonna give me a heart attack." He shook his head, taking the cigar out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers. It was still unlit. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"

You held up a ring of keys and shook it in the air, the jingling of metal echoing around the room. "It’s called having a brother-in-law who can pick locks." You tossed the keys on the counter and sat down across from him, resting your head in your hands. "Are you having another midlife crisis, Warrior Cat?"

"You're a brat, y’know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking the cigar and tossing it back into his jacket pocket. He ran a hand over his face, sighing.

You watched him closely. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles, the slight hunch to his shoulders. He looked old… and not the usual, rugged, cool old. You frowned, leaning across the counter.

"You know, with Wade always around, I haven't had much time to check up on my favorite Canadian." You tilted your head to the side.

"Don't let Canuck hear you say that," he snorted. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. You could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Seriously, Slim Jim," The joke earned a slight scowl from him. You grinned, knowing it annoyed him when you called him that. "You look your age today. What's wrong?"

Logan stared at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. He was probably wondering how much to tell you. If anything, at all.

You were used to it by now. His reluctance to talk about what was bothering him, his unwillingness to rely on anyone. It was his default, and you understood that, but after three months of sharing an apartment with blind meth-headed Trunchbull and Scary Terry, it was getting really tiring.

Finally, he sighed. "I've been thinkin'."

"Oh no." You feigned fear. He shot you a warning glare. One of those 'try me and see what happens' glares. "About what?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes kept glancing toward the pocket his cigar was stashed in. He was struggling not to light it.

You were about to ask again, but before you could, he finally spoke up.

"I drove past the school a few days ago. It's still standing, y'know. It looks the same as it did 15 years ago." He laughed, though it sounded empty. "Abandoned, sure. But it's there."

Yeah, clearly, Disney spent all their budget on Princess remakes. A shame, really. The mansion was a good place to have movie nights.

"And it just...hit me, I guess. Everything's gone, kid." His voice grew soft, and the expression he was wearing broke your heart. "Everyone I knew, everyone I ever cared about, is dead. All I got left is this shitty apartment, a crap truck, and annoying roommates who drive me crazy."

"To be fair, I haven't had any accidents in three months," Wade called from the living room. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he was home. It was even more of a miracle that he heard Logan. "Saving the world has improved my driving skills. Now, I only hit pedestrians."

"Shut the fuck up, Wilson," Logan barked, his claws popping out of his knuckles with a snikt. "Or I'll shove those swords up your ass and make you eat 'em."

“Slow your roll, Caesar Salad; this is a PG story. Step off with the sexual violence, at least until you have the author's consent to do so." Wade turned the corner into the kitchen, a huge bag of Taco Bell in his hand. "Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t be too happy if she found out I was cheating on her with your foot long. You know how jealous she gets. One time, I tried to-"

"Wade, please," You groaned. He looked at you, then at Logan, and nodded.

"You're right, you're right. I should respect the rating." Wade waved his hand in the air and made his way out of the room, taking a bite out of one of his tacos. "Also, the fact that I’m technically a father figure in this fic, for reasons we can't disclose here. I’d rather not turn this wholesome story into some weird-ass daddy kink porno, even though I wouldn’t mind if it were."

He turned his attention to an empty wall momentarily, a smile creeping on his face. "I have a feeling you guys wouldn't either, judging by the comments on those other ones, and honestly, I don't blame you. My body is a temple, and it should be worshiped. Just ask all those Honda Odyssey rewrites. They'd know all about that, especially the ones that end with me getting-"

"WADE," You and Logan yelled at the same time, his claws still unsheathed. Logan looked ready to jump over the counter and murder him, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Wade to be shredded like string cheese, the two of you had had enough drama to last the rest of the year.

"Ugh, fine." He threw his hands up, his tacos spilling all over the floor. "But just for the record, I totally just stole the focus of this fic. Don't let Logan fool you. He's only the main character because this is his story, but the real star of the show is moi." He pointed a finger to his chest and winked at you. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Get the fuck outta here," Logan said, his claws sliding back into his knuckles. "I swear to god, Wilson, if you ruin my day any more than you already have, I'm gonna shove you into the wood chipper."

"You have a wood chipper?" Wade raised an eyebrow, grinning. "My, oh, my. Who would have thought the lumberjack would make a reappearance?"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," You muttered.

"Don't push me, asshole." Logan was growling, his claws once again threatening to slice into the other man.

A normal person would have run away by now, but not Wade. You had known him long enough to understand that he thrived off of conflict. He was the most chaotic son of a bitch you had ever met, and nothing excited him more than pissing people off.

But, again, this wasn’t his story. He was just hijacking it, and the author had had enough. So, without further ado, they did the most logical thing. They made Mary Puppins appear, and suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was out of the kitchen, leaving behind the Taco Bell, his jokes, and his dignity.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. You managed to contain it, but just barely.

You glanced over at Logan, and he still had a look on his face like he was drained and exhausted. Of course, now annoyance and anger were mixed into the cocktail.

With your sister’s boyfriend out of the picture, he slumped down against the counter, running a hand through his hair. Not much of it, given the current length, but enough that he could pull at it.

"I'm sorry," You said. You felt a pang of sympathy for him, and you couldn't imagine the shitstorm that must be going on in his mind. After all, he wasn't like the rest of you. He was a lot older, and his life had been filled with a lot more heartache and pain than you would ever experience. "It sucks."

He didn't say anything, so you continued.

"I mean, I don't know what it's like, obviously, but I can't imagine how it must feel to lose everything like that. Everyone." You paused, thinking about your family. Your own life hadn't exactly been a picnic, but the world hadn't come crashing down around you. Not yet, at least. "I can't imagine the kind of strength you must have to go on."

He grunted, which was pretty much the Logan version of a 'Thank you.'

"I just..." His voice was quiet. "I just want something permanent. That’s not this." He motioned to the room around you, and you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes.

"I get it."

"I don't think you do, kid," he muttered, staring at his feet.

"Hey, give me a little credit. I might not be ancient like you, but I've seen some shit. Wade is infatuated with Nessie, so I go through that bullshit every other day." You shook your head. "The two of them can be a real handful together."

"No kiddin'." He snorted.

"I mean, sure. The world went to hell, but I think it's pretty safe to say that you deserve something good after all the crap that's happened." You shrugged, looking around the room. "This is that something."

He stared at you for a long moment, and you wondered if you said something wrong. Speaking to him was always a gamble. Sometimes, he would respond, and the two of you could actually hold a conversation. Other times, he would shut down and refuse to talk, or worse, yell at you.

It seemed like luck was on your side today.

"Maybe." His eyes moved to his hands, and his gaze was distant. "It's hard to think that when I'm stuck in this hell hole."

"It's not that bad."

"You’re just saying that so Wilson doesn’t think about moving back in with your sister." He rolled his eyes. "And it is. We all know that."

"Okay, fine, you're right. The apartment is shitty, and so is the neighborhood. The landlord is a bitch, and the neighbors are loud." You took a breath, leaning closer. "But, you have us."

"Oh, don't you start."

"And you've got your truck and your liquor and the crappy TV in the living room. I say, if that isn't permanent, I don't know what is."

Logan opened his mouth, but you held a finger up.

"You might not realize it, but you have a family here." You smiled at him, and he scoffed, turning his face away from you.

"I've had families before. Doesn't work out."

"Well, we're of the more persistent kind," you teased, reaching across the counter and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere. Especially Wade. Man is a tick that refuses to let go."

"God, I wish he would."

"He won't. You're stuck with him. You’ll be the best man at his wedding, and we both know it." You grinned, and he rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips quirked.

"Great," he muttered.

Secretly, you knew he enjoyed the banter with Wade. He acted annoyed and irritated, but deep down, you were certain he was amused. Might be frustrated, but definitely amused.

You were about to tell him that, but he spoke first.

"Thanks, kid." He reached across the counter and squeezed your arm. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're not so bad."

"Not so bad?" You snorted. "Wow. Is that how the Wolverine slid into the hearts of millions?"

He chuckled and shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You know what I mean, you brat."

You stood, walking around the counter. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug back for reasons that you understood. Still, you wanted him to know that you were there for him and he could rely on you.

"You know," you started. "I think a lot of people would be surprised by the softy you are under all the grumpiness."

"Yeah, well, don't go around spreadin' that." He pushed you away gently, shaking his head. "I’m not a damn teddy bear, and I'll rip your throat out if you start tellin' people."

"I’m getting the Wade treatment? A threat of death if I speak a word?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m honored."

"Sometimes I wonder if he is your sibling instead of your sister."

"Nah, I’m too pretty to be a Wilson." You smirked. "If anything, I'm more related to my cousin."

"The one who tried to kill you last month?"

"That's the one."

"Then you definitely are a Wilson."

[tonyspep]

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to

A/N: this is for the summer fic exchange!!! it started out as something completely different, but here we are. This is for the amazing @laurenairay I really hope you like it and that your summer is going well. This is my first time writing for Quinn Hughes so here's to trying something different. Quinn is so cute, so I hope I did him justice. This was inspired by “Call It What You Want” by Taylor Swift, which is so hurt/comfort to me. So here we are with Quinn being comforted after the game seven loss to the Oilers this year. thank you to @wyattjohnston for hosting this amazing exchange!!

Walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walkin' to

summary: the series didn't end the way you or quinn was hoping, but you weren't going to let him hang his head for too long

rating: t

i'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers

trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right

starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest nights

“call it what you want” - by taylor swift

The final seconds ticked away and it was obvious this game wasn't going to end the way you or Quinn wanted it to. He and the rest of the Canucks gave the series everything they had, but McDavid and Draisaitl and company proved to be too much in the end. You felt Brock's girlfriend Bella wrap her arms around your middle, a soft sob escaping her as she rested her head against your back. It was hard for you not to cry, too. The boys had worked so hard to get to this point, they had fought all the way back to take the series lead, only to falter in the most important game and now the off season would be starting.

“I thought they had it,” Bella murmured and you could only nod. You really believed this year was going to be their year. They won the Pacific Divison. They beat the Preadators 4-2 and had home ice advantage in this series, which you knew would be tough, but still..

A tear couldn't help but trickle down your cheek. They had all the pieces to go far, maybe even all the way, and instead they would be packing up their lockers, doing exit interviews and the summer would be starting earlier than any of you anticipated.

“Me, too, Bells,” You agreed with the blonde who had become your best friend since you started dating Quinn just a little over a year ago. The two of you hugged each other tight, watching as the fans made their way out of the arena. You separated from each other after giving each other a kiss on the cheek and went down the steps to the locker room.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as you waited for Quinn to appear. Out came Elias, skull cap pulled over his buzzed blonde hair, flashing you just a brief smile before his handsome face transformed into more of a grimace. JT was not standing tall, but hunched until he was embraced by his family. Brock gave you the best grin he could muster, nothing like his usual sparkling grin that you had come to know almost as well as Quinn's soft smile.

Then came a familiar head of soft brown hair, longer than it was when you first met Quinn in the hallway of your shared apartment building in downtown Vancouver. His head was down, his shoulders slumped, like they were holding the weight of the world. Your heart couldn't help but break. You knew how hard Quinn had worked to get to this point, how he took on the burden of being Captain and how seriously he took the C on his chest. He didn't want the Cup for himself, he wanted it for Brock, for Elias, JT, Thatcher, for Coach Rick Tocchect. He was so selfless and put the team first above anything and everything else.

All you wanted to do was take his pain away, to put the bashfully sweet smile you knew so well back on his face.

“Hey, you,” Quinn gave a weak laugh and there was a hint of the smile you fell in love with on his lips, making your heart lift slightly. “You can really smile you know,” You tease, reaching for Quinn's hand. “I know this didn't go the way we wanted to, but if you don't smile I'll think you're not happy to see me,” You joke and Quinn does laugh, for real this time. “Y/N,” Quinn's voice is tender as he cups your cheek in his other hand. “I'm always happy to see you. If you weren't here right now, I'd be going home to a dark apartment to just sit on my couch and think about all the things I could have done better. Instead, I'm going home with you, which makes this easier than it would be otherwise.”

You flush from Quinn's words. You want this to be easier for him, to ease some of the weight he carries and you think you know just how to do it.

Quinn can see the wheels turning in your head, see the spark that's suddenly taken over your deep eyes. He arches a brow and you kiss his cheek, teasing, “Just wait. I know just how to make this not seem so bad, but you tell me if it's too much, okay? I just want to be here for you, however you want me to be, Quinny,”

His cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, showing through the playoff beard he's grown. Your heart skips a beat; even a bit run down after a hard fought series, Quinn is still the cutest boy you've ever known. With his big sad puppy eyes, his soft mop of dark hair that curls over his ears, his pink lips and warmly handsome face.

“Relax,” You say as you unlock your shared apartment's front door. “Just sit on the couch, don't do anything except take off your shoes, take a shower if you want, change into something comfy but leave everything else to me, okay?”

Quinn chuckles to himself and gives a joking salute, “Yes ma'am, but there is one other thing I want to do before you do whatever it is you're going to do.”

You blink curiously as you tilt your head, wondering what this one thing could be and then Quinn is touching your cheek, so gently as he presses his lips against yours. This kiss is the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced. You continue kissing each other softly, neither of you wanting to pull away as your fingers sink into Quinn's wonderfully soft, thick dark hair. He nips on your bottom lip, gently, making you moan his name as his other hand wraps around your waist, anchoring you to strong frame.

You break apart out of necessity and Quinn says, “Now I'll go relax and leave you to your surprise,” and you're so tempted to follow him, heat thrumming through your veins, want clouding your thoughts as your eyes follow Quinn until he disappears down the hall.

Somehow you resist the urge, remembering that this night is about Quinn, that even though the game ended in disappointing fashion, you weren't going to let the night end that way.

Flipping through your contacts, you find the one you were looking for and you can only hope you have all the ingredients for the recipe you're planning. Talking to Ellen Hughes feels so much like talking to your own Mom. Her warmth radiates from the other side of the phone as you facetime and you feel relieved that you do have all the ingredients for her famous Kugle, which is Quinn's favorite food.

You're not the best cook but Kugle is easier than you expected. You laugh with Ellen as she goes over the recipe step by step with you and after the casserole goes into the oven, you see Quinn standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking adorably cozy in a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“Is that my Mom?” He asks, his voice so childlike his big brown eyes lit up with hopefulness and Ellen answers for you saying, “Hi, Sweetie. Y/N just called me. I'm so sorry...” and you leave the kitchen, letting mother and son have this time together, knowing Quinn needs the comfort of his Mom now more than ever.

“You made Kugle,” Quinn's voice is full of wonder as you reappear in the kitchen after changing into something comfortable yourself. “Is that why you called my Mom? So you would know how to make it? I could have helped,” He huffed a little, a pout forming on his beautiful lips, which made you laugh. “I'm the only one of us that knows how to make it. Mom shared her secrets with me,” He's proud, his chest puffing a little and how did you get such a sweet guy to call her your own?

“If you made it that would defeat the purpose of you relaxing,” You shake your head as you and Quinn walk toward each other and share another kiss unable to resist each other.

While the Kugle continues baking, you reveal part two of your of your surprise. After changing into your comfiest outfit – a shirt that used to be Quinn's and a pair of well worn shorts – you set up a fort in the living room with all the blankets and pillows in the apartment. “A fort?” Quinn's eyes are bright like they should always be and you smile just as bright. “A fort,” You confirm. “Figured after tonight you could use something fun like a fort and something comforting like your Mom's Kugle,”

Quinn wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I like the way you think,” He kisses your cheek and you blush.

Getting under the blankets, you fire up Disney Plus and land on Toy Story. You know Quinn as well as you know yourself after having been together for nearly two years now and you know how much he loves this movie. Just like if the roles were reversed, Quinn would know to put on Pretty Woman or Tangled.

The familiar credits start just as the oven dings and before Quinn can get up, you push his shoulder gently saying, “I don't think so, you stay right here,” and he knows better to argue with you, so he stays put, laughing as the toys in Andy's room start to move around, letting the audience in that they're alive.

“You're a Toy!” Quinn shouts along with Woody after the new spaceman toy “lands” in Andy's room and you laugh, getting in a few Bo Peep lines and Slinky moments as Quinn can't help but get in the Woody lines before they happen. It's no surprise the cowboy is your boyfriend's favorite and you can't help but remember your first Halloween together this year when you dressed as Woody and Bo Peep to the Canucks party.

You enjoy the Kugle even stealing some of Quinn's who says, “Hey,” and shields his plate from you.

You're snuggled up together as the last credits play, Quinn humming along with “You've Got A Friend In Me.” He kisses you on the forehead and sings in your ear, “Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, bigger and stronger too, maybe but none of them will ever love you the way I do, it's me and you,”

You giggle sweetly as you finish the song with the familiar refrain, beaming up at Quinn, “Boy and as the years go by our friendship will never die. You're gonna see it's our destiny. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me,”

You kiss each other softly, your tongues meeting as your hands move over each other's bodies. Your foreheads come to rest against each other's, your breath coming in soft pants as you look lovingly at each other, Quinn's big hand on your back, his fingers moving over your spine as you sigh, “I love you so much, Quinn,”

His cheeks flush – even though you've been saying I love you for months, it still makes him blush, like he can't believe you love him, which is insane, how can he love you – and your heart flutters like always whenever you're under the stare of his warm brown eyes. “I love you, too. This was amazing; just what I needed after tonight,” He says softly, his voice so tender and honest.

In your fort it's like nothing can touch you here, like, what happened tonight – the devastating loss – didn't happen. You hope you've given Quinn just a little relief, that his heart doesn't feel as heavy as it did when he watched the last seconds tick away or when he was in the handshake line or addressing the team in the locker room after, and the soft smile on his face as he holds you close tells you, you may have done all of that.

The next morning, you wake up in Quinn's arms, the safest place in the world and you smile at how serene he looks sleeping. The worry he carries with him is gone, the lines in his face smoothed away while his long, thick lashes resting on his cheeks. You see the smile creep across Quinn's lips telling you he's awake and his voice, thick with sleep, teases you, “Take a picture it'll last longer,”.

Quinn's humor is sneaky and you poke him in the ribs. “Like you haven't been staring at me too,”

Quinn's eyes open as he stretches and he says, “Can you blame me? I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you,”

“Smooth,” You remark and Quinn laughs. “It's not often, I am,” He admits and after a lazy kiss you find yourself sitting on the stools of your kitchen's island as Quinn makes breakfast.

Last night may not have ended the way both of you wanted, but today was a new day and there would be a new season on the horizon and you would make sure Quinn's days leading up to training camp and then opening night would be the brightest. You wouldn't let him get down on himself or believe he could have done more. You were going to make him believe in himself and believe in the team he had help build up to be one of the best, and that started today.

[rowdyluv]

Champion of my Heart

Summary: requested || in which reader is a famous singer and takes a break from tour to go watch luke play in the “Hughes bowl” but gets mobbed by the media.

Warnings: use of y/n, ended up being more about reader than about luke and reader, unedited, grammatical errors, use of song added as readers “song” I do not own this song, I am not claiming to own this song

Word Count: 1.1k

Notes: requested via ask, sorry this turned out more about reader than about the relationship it just came out of me this was at 1:30am when I woke up randomly

As the pop star, y/n, stepped off the private jet that had brought her from her latest tour stop to Newark, New Jersey, she couldn't help but feel a an overwhelming sense of excitement and relief to be back in the same state as her favorite person. Y/n had been on tour for the last two months, performing to sold-out crowds night after night. Living out of a tour bus and sleeping everywhere but the once place that felt like home, and she was exhausted. She was living her dream out and she loves what she does, she’s just being run ragged.

But she had promised herself that she would take a break, even if it was just for one night, to do something she loved - watch her boyfriend, Luke, and his brother who ironically is also his brother, Jack, play hockey for the New Jersey Devils.

Y/n had met Luke one night at small show held at Rutgers University, when he and Jack had come out to see it at the college. The boys getting noticed by quite a few of the girls on campus and a few athletes, security invited them backstage to a different green room, but y/n being curious who else would be swarmed fans went to greet them . Which led to her and Luke hitting it off immediately, bonding over their shared love of music and hockey. And as their relationship blossomed, she became a regular at Devils games, cheering on Luke and Jack from the stands.

But tonight was special. Tonight, the Devils were playing the Vancouver Canucks, and y/n knew that Luke's oldest brother, Quinn, is the captain for the Canucks. Until tonight she hasn’t seen the three brothers play against each other before, and she couldn't wait to see the intensity and the competition that she’s heard all about.

As she made her way to her seat with in Prudential Center, y/n was practically mobbed by a few fans and numerous droves of paparazzi. She smiled and waved, taking selfies and signing autographs, but she was also careful to keep her focus on the game once puck drop happened. She was there to see her man and his brother’s play, and tonight she was just another Devils fan in the stands. She didn't want to distract Luke or Jack, and she desperately wanted to be a normal girlfriend there to give support.

The game was intense, with both teams fighting hard for every chance at the puck. Y/n on the edge of her seat, screaming and cheering along with the rest of the crowd. Often times she found herself clutching to the bottom of her Luke jersey, murmuring please over and over as he loaded up for a shot. Or the hitch in her breathing when he went down because of a hard hit into the boards.

When the final buzzer sounded and the Devils had emerged victorious, and y/n was over the moon. She wasn’t sure if it was because she had never been so anxious over a game, because they won, or because she gets to see Luke now.

As she waited for Luke to come out of the locker room, y/n was surrounded by reporters and camera crews.

If all the media is out here who is interviewing the teams? She asked herself.

They were all clamoring for her attention, asking her questions about her new album and her love life. She tried to brush them off, but they were truly relentless.

"Is your new album about Luke?" one reporter asked, shoving a microphone in her face.

"No comment," Y/n replied, smiling sweetly.

"But what about your ex-boyfriend, Josh?" another reporter chimed in. "Is the album about him then?" shoving a different microphone in her face.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - yes my music is about my experiences in life and my emotions that coincide with said experiences. That said it does mean it has to be about any one person."

But the reporters wouldn't let up. They kept asking questions, trying to get a rise out of her. That's when she spotted Luke, emerging from the locker room with a huge grin on his face. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she saw him, and she knew exactly what to do to nip this in the butt.

With zero hesitation, y/n pushed through the crowd of reporters and ran directly to Luke. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, and planted a long, languid, passionate kiss on his lips. Probably the most PDA the two have ever displayed in their lives. The crowd around them erupted in cheers and applause, and the reporters were left stunned and silent.

Luke laughed and hugged her to him tightly, spinning her around in a circle while still having her wrapped around his waist. "I guess that answers all your questions," he said sarcastically, winking at the reporters.

Y/n grinned looking directly at her boyfriend, feeling happy and carefree for the first time in months. She knew that she had made a statement, and that the media would be talking about this kiss for weeks to come. But she didn't care. She was just happy to be with Luke, and to have been able to support him and his team.

As they made their way out of the arena, she leaned her head on Luke's shoulder. "Thanks for getting the win for me tonight," she joked, smiling up at him.

"Anytime baby," Luke replied, squeezing her hand. "And thanks for that kiss, if I had to wait any longer I might have died from lack of attention. Plus I think that shut them up pretty effectively."

Y/n giggled at her dramatic boy. "I'm always happy to help," she said, snuggling into his side. “When we get in the car, I have something to play for you. I think you’re really going to like it.” Luke gave her a questioning look as he opened her door, letting her get in first. She pulled out a demo album, and showed him the cover.

‘Champion of my Heart’

Luke held the demo in his hands and he studied it for a moment. “Is it about..” he paused looking up to meet her eyes. “Is it really about you and I?” Y/n nodded and smiled slightly. Luke moved around the front of the car quickly, anxious to enter the car. “Remember it’s not the final version, but i wanted you hear some of the songs first.” Luke made eye contact with her again. “First, as in first first?” He needed the clarification, like she needed his approval. “Yes, first outside of my recording crew. He leaned over the console and softly cupped her cheek. “I don’t tell you enough. I love you, you’re amazing, you’re beautiful, and I am the luckiest person in the wo— no entire universe to have you.” Luke placed the softest kiss on her lips as the first track begins to play.

‘If I Could Fly’

[letsgetrowdy43]

Vegas Nights—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Warnings: 18+ content/smut below the cut: nothing extremely explicit or intense, just soft sex!! It's literally just sex, with very little plot.

Au Masterlist!!

The room erupted into applause as Quinn's name was announced, breaking the tension among the Hughes family as Quinn was awarded the gleaming Norris Trophy, a symbol of his hard-earned achievement. Honey felt a surge of pride swell in her chest as she jumped to her feet to press a loving kiss to her husband's lips as he pulled her into his chest.

"I'm so proud of you," she mumbled as she rested her chin on his shoulder before she pulled away to look him in the eyes. "Couldn't have done it without you Hun," he pressed a short kiss to her temple before he went down the row of Hughes and company, hugging and thanking all of them before he made his way to the stage to accept his award.

She stood with his brothers, Jack's arm wrapped around her shoulder as she leaned into his side, tears of pride welling in her eyes as Quinn delivered his heartfelt acceptance speech.

"The reality of winning an award like this is you can’t do it alone and you need really good players around you, and I certainly have that," Quinn said, his voice filled with emotion, "It takes a team both on and off the ice, so thank you to not only the Canucks and the organization but also to my brothers, my parents, friends, family and the never-ending support of my wife Honey and my kids, none of this would've been possible without you all being in my corner."

Honey's heart skipped a beat at his words, her cheeks flushing with happiness as she beamed up at him, watching his shy grin grow as he caught her eyes. She mouthed a short "love you," which was caught by the camera as he continued on to thank his fellow nominees.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur of congratulatory handshakes, hugs, and photos, but all she could think about was getting Quinn back to their hotel room, away from the crowds, to celebrate his victory in their own, a more private way.

After the awards ceremony, they headed to the casino to toast Quinn's success. They laughed, and they drank, enjoying the never-ending energy of the Las Vegas night. Honey couldn't remember the last time they had so much fun, surrounded by loved ones and the excitement of the win. But as the night wore on, an electric tension began to build between her and Quinn, an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"We should leave soon," Honey mumbled into Quinn's ear before pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, a teasing smile working its way to her face as Quinn pulled away with a grin. He slightly stiffened in the booth they were currently sitting at, "got a little surprise for me?" he joked as his hand squeezed her thigh that was pressed against his. Honey batted her lashes, a pout making its way to her face as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, toying with her as she shook her head, "No surprise, just wanna get you all to myself, thought maybe we could celebrate, just the two of us."

Quinn cleared his throat and stood up abruptly as she finished her sentence, "We are going to bed. Night!" he announced to the table with a grin. Jack chuckled, shaking his head, "Didn't think you'd be running off so soon. Thought you'd be itching for another round of blackjack after your last losing streak." Quinn shot him a playful glare. "Not tonight, I think I'm about to score big," he said, his eyes flickering back to Honey with a look that made the heat in her lower stomach burn brighter. "That's fucking disgusting" Luke groaned as he shooed his eldest brother away, the married couple laughing at the youngest dramatics as they made their way from the casino to their hotel

When they finally returned to their hotel room, Honey barely had the door closed before Quinn's hands were on her. He pressed her against the wall, his lips crashing down on hers in a searing kiss. The heat between them was palpable, the pent-up desire from the night bursting as his hands began to roam.

"I've been waiting all night to get you alone," Quinn murmured against her lips, his voice rough with need. "Me too," Honey breathed, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

Quinn's hands wandered her body, "so... how do you wanna celebrate my big night," he whispered into her skin as began slowly unzipping the back of her dress, grinning as it hit the floor which led his lips back onto her skin, nipping at her collarbones. Honey's fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, yanking it off and tossing it aside, "I was thinking we start in the bed, and then maybe in the shower, but it's all up to you, Mr. Norris Trophy winner," Her attention now back on his lips, hands cupping his jaw and pulling him in closer to press his lips against hers before she nipped at his bottom lip. The feel of his bare skin against hers sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she moaned into his mouth, needing more of him, "I like the sound of that."

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently on the soft mattress, Quinn stood for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her. Honey's body burned under his gaze, the intensity of his look sending shivers down her spine.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And you're all mine," Honey replied, her voice trembling with anticipation as he lowered himself onto the bed to be face-to-face with her.

Quinn's mouth found hers again, his kiss hungry and demanding as his hands skillfully moved to her bra, unclasping it with practiced ease and letting it fall away. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples and sending waves of pleasure coursing through her, she arched into his touch, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Quinn's kisses trailed down her neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. He moved lower, his mouth finding her breast and sucking gently. Honey's breath hitched, her back arching off the bed as a moan escaped her lips.

"Quinn," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. He didn't respond, his mouth too busy exploring her body, leaving goosebumps the further he trailed down her figure. His hands slid down to her hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties and pulling them down. Honey kicked them off, her body aching for his touch.

Quinn's mouth followed the path of his hands, kissing and licking his way down her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. Honey's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling with anticipation.

"This was supposed to be about you," she whispered, her voice trembling as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "This night is as much yours as it is mine," he looked up at her with a loving gaze before nipping her other thigh. "But-" she was cut off as his hands intertwined with hers.

Quinn didn't hesitate, his mouth found her center, licked a strip up her core which elicited a broken moan. Honey's head fell back against the pillow, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips as he nipped teasingly at her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building with each flick of his tongue.

She tangled her fingers in his curls, holding him to her as her hips moved against him, grinding against his face as he stared up with lust blown eyes as his wife.

Honey writhed under the weight of his tongue, eyes closed and heart pounding as her husband worked his magic. She laid out prettily for him, falling apart in his hands. He was winning in more ways than one tonight.

Quinn's hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

When she finally came, it was with a shuddering cry, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. Quinn held her through it, his mouth never ceasing its tender ministrations until the last tremors of pleasure had subsided and she was reduced to putty in his hands.

Honey lay back against the pillow, her body limp and satisfied as she caught her breath.

Quinn crawled up her body, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. Honey could taste herself on his lips, the sensation sending another wave of desire through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her fingers found their place in his hair, pulling him closer before she rolled over to straddle him.

"My turn to lead," she whispered against his lips, her voice a little stronger as her hands ran over the tanned skin on his chest. "Need you," Quinn whined, his voice a low growl as she grinned at his desperation.

She sank down on him slowly, filling her completely. Honey gasped at the sensation, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she began to move once she felt ready. Their rhythm was slow and sensual, each movement deliberate and full of love. The intensity built with each thrust, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Honey's breath came in ragged gasps, her hip grinding against his as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, one of his hands guiding her hips, the other drawing tight circles on her clit using his thumb.

"God, Honey," he moaned, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her, "you feel so good." She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "so do you, baby," her voice was a seductive purr, sending shivers down his spine.

Her pace quickened, control slipping as she neared her peak, her nails digging into his shoulders as they climbed higher and higher. "Quinn," she moaned, her voice breaking with need as he sat up a little to press a kiss to her jaw and then lowered to bite softly at the skin of her breasts. "I know, Hun, I know," he replied, his voice strained with desire as his lips wrapped around her nipple before moving up to silence her loud cries of pleasure. And with a final, shuddering thrust, they reached their climaxes together, their cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

Honey collapsed on top of him, relishing the feeling of his arms wrapping around her as they both caught their breath. She rested her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting reminder of their bond.

"Now that's what I call a proper celebration," she murmured, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "I love you, and I'm so proud of you, don't know if I tell you that enough," a grin spreading across his face as he looked at her, watching as her eyes filled with love right before she pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "I love you too," he mumbled as he cupped her face and brought it up to press a sloppy kiss to her lips.

Quinn pulled away, her face still in his hands as he gently ran her fingers over the flushed skin of her cheek, grinning at how pretty his wife looked, makeup smudged and hair a mess, but still the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "Now I believed I was promised something to do with round two, and a shower," he laid a gentle smack to her ass before intertwining their hands once again hoisting her over his shoulder and taking off in the direction of the hotel bathroom, laughter filling the air as he shut the door and concealing them from the rest of the world.

-

-

-

[auras-moonstone]

Hi!! So the Canucks just lost to the oilers 😔 could we get some more Ethan or Jack x Hockey??

Or sm cowboy Jack related yk bc of his most recent ig post🤭

Anywayyy hope you are having a great start of The Weekend, love your writing 🫶🏼💋

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ sparking up my darkest night — ethan landry

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 3k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: cowboy!ethan landry x pop star!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n goes to her grandparents’ hometown to hide from the drama, and she meets ethan, a cowboy who helps her through the darkness as they fall in love with each other.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings: fluff. cheesiness.

after long, exhausting hours of driving, y/n arrived to the minuscule town where she was going to hide for undefined amount of time. according to her publicist, disappearing from the public eye was the best choice, primarily for her mental health.

the two grammy award winner fell victim to the manipulation of another famous singer who, using his power as a big figure in the industry, twisted a story and went as far as editing conversations and calls to paint y/n as a villain.

and it had worked like a charm. at the moment, y/n’s name was trend on every platform and the hateful comments outlawed the positive ones, that were practically non-existent. people who already disliked her took the situation as an opportunity to unleash their hatred and some of their fans even turned their backs on her.

the castle y/n had built crumbled overnight, and so she decided to hide in the town her grandparents grew up in and try to pretend she was a normal person and her career and future weren’t slipping through her fingers like sand.

y/n stood right next to the car as her eyes inspected the house from outside. the flowers on the front garden were very much alive, the grass was perfectly cut, the windows were practically glowing. there was no aspect of the house that indicated it had been uninhabited for the last five years, and it sent y/n in a spiral because why was the place in such good conditions?

“y/n?” a boyish voice pulled her out of thoughts.

the girl went stiff and adjusted her sunglasses. “um, no?” she turned around to find a boy her age and a brown and white horse by his side.

amusement filled his eyes. “you are not sure if you’re y/n?” he asked, evidently trying to hold his laugh. “what’s with the big glasses and the bandeau?”

the pop-star instinctively ran her hand over the silk cloth. “i’m undercover.”

“in a vuitton bandeau and driving a benz? hate to break it to you, but that’s not how you go undercover. does your team hate you or something?”

“wouldn’t be surprised.” she muttered under her breath. “anyways, how do you know my name, smartass?”

“i’m ethan landry, nice to meet you.” he extended his hand for a shake and his calloused fingers met hers. to his surprise, they were calloused as well, and then he remembered that y/n played way too many instruments so it made sense. “my parents are friends of yours, they asked me to check if you’d arrived safely and to help you settle.”

“oh, that’s nice of you. thank you.” y/n smiled gently.

“no problem at all. at your service, ma’am.” he jokingly tipped his cowboy hat.

y/n laughed. “nice hat, want to exchange?”

ethan scoffed. “get that overpriced thing away from me, i’d rather stay true to my roots.”

“whatever, cowboy. are you going to introduce me to this gorgeous creature?” she eyed the horse with soft eyes.

“i already told you, my name’s ethan.” he winked, making her roll her eyes. but the boy was charming, there was not denying that. “this is my horse, pegasus, and his favourite song of yours is white horse.”

her shoulders shook with laughter and ethan’s heart skipped a beat. that sound was as angelic as her voice. but he quickly locked those thoughts away, he could not go there. she was not only here for a short period of time, she was also beyond untouchable.

“hi, pegasus. aren’t you the cutest horse ever? yes, you are.” she baby-talked the gigantic animal while petting him. “i love your name.” the horse made a sound and the next thing she knew, he licked the side of her face. “aww! it’s nice to meet you too. you’re as charming as your owner, huh?”

“thanks for the compliment but i’m not going to lick your face.” ethan joked, but he was screaming from the inside.

y/n sighed, feigning disappointment. “well, i tried.”

they got to know each other a bit more as ethan helped her get settled in the house, which he knew like the back of his hand because he was the reason why the house looked good as new. her parents payed him to clean the house and take care of the garden.

“well, i’ll leave you to start getting familiar with your new home for the time being. i wrote down my number and sticked it to the fridge. you can call me or text me any time, i live five minutes away so it’s no inconvenience for me. don’t hesitate to reach out, okay? whether you need help with something or if you need a friend to talk to.”

a friend. that sounded so nice. her so called friends from the city let go of her hand as soon as the drama unfolded, not giving her a chance to explain. they didn’t even ask what happened, they just disappeared. they discarded her once her reputation went down the drain.

“hey…” he said softly. she met his gaze and the look in her eyes splitter his heart. he lived in a small town and even though he wasn’t on the phone that much, he didn’t live under a rock. ethan knew the reason behind her escapade, and because of his parents’ friendship with y/n’s family, he knew all those things the singer said about her were fabricated and far from real. “the truth will come out. it always does. you’re allowed to feel sad, and angry, and whatever you’re feeling, but don’t let them bring you down.”

“they already did. my career might be over, everyone hates me, the record is thinking about letting me go because i don’t bring them a good image anymore, i have no friends left. they made me ran away from my home, ethan. i can’t even defend myself because they’re so filled of hatred that they won’t hear my side of the story.”

“so you don’t play the part of the victim, even though you are one. you gather all the awful things they’re saying about you and laugh it off. make it your brand. they can’t use it against you if you embrace the hate.” he said all of those things, and he truly believed it. but at the same time, he had the urge to bring him into his arms and secure her from the outside world.

she pressed her lips in a thin line “that sounds great, ethan. but i don’t know if i can do that.”

he nodded in understanding “and that’s normal. the wounds are still raw, but you’ll get there eventually, because you cannot let them win.”

“you’re kinda wise, cowboy.” she finally smiled.

“thank you, super star. maybe in your next album you can mention a hot cowboy who helped you see reason.”

“oh, do you know any hot cowboys? introduce me please.” she teased him.

ethan gritted his teeth. he did not like the image of her with someone else at all. he had met her two hours ago and he was already having possessive thoughts. ethan was definitely not going to survive y/n. he feared she already had him under her spell. after all, her funny comebacks and soft heart were impossible to resist.

“nah. you already have the best combo in town, the hottest, most charming cowboy—me—, and his sweet sidekick—pegasus.”

y/n shook her head in amusement “you’re so full of yourself.” but she couldn’t deny that she agreed with him.

“more like aware of myself.”

“i don’t know how that hat fits in that big head of yours.”

“it’s custom made, darling.” he winked.

“and pretty ugly, too. here, let me help.” she took off her bandeau and wrapped it around his hat. “now you’re a fancy cowboy.”

“i’m going to be the town’s biggest disappointment.” yet, he didn’t take it off. “i really have to go, but let’s do something tomorrow, okay? maybe i can show you around town.”

she smiled like the cheshire cat. “can i ride a horse?”

“sure, we can borrow my sisters’”

“yay! can’t wait. see you tomorrow, ethan.”

“it’s fancy cowboy for you, super star.” he winked and then left the house.

as she watched both pegasus and ethan disappear from her sight, she realized it had been months since the last time she had smiled so genuinely. and even though she had been in this town for a couple of hours, she already decided it was the best decision she could’ve made.

as soon as ethan caught sight of y/n standing in the porch, he smiled like a little kid. she was adorable, with a basket in hand, short overalls and cowboy boots and excitement lighting up her face.

“dressed for the occasion, i see.” ethan said.

“like it?” she asked, doing a little turn.

“you look gorgeous, y/n.” he answered softly making the singer blush. “though, there’s something missing to complete the outfit.” her curious eyes met his, and he simply smiled as he took a cowboy hat from his bag. he put it on y/n’s head and hummed in content. “now we’re talking.”

“i love it! thank you so much!” y/n didn’t even think before jumping and throwing her arms around his slim waist.

“you’re very welcome.” he murmured, hugging her back. her figure felt so perfect against his, like puzzle pieces. “what’s on the basket?”

“i made cupcakes, a cheesecake and sandwiches. i was thinking we could stop to have a little picnic.”

“that sounds very nice. i know a spot by the lake.“

y/n admired her surroundings. the sun reflecting on the lake, the green grass, the quietness, the tall trees, the animals living so freely. she felt so at ease, not needing to be in high alert for invasive paparazzis or overstepping fans.

“a penny for your thoughts?” ethan asked, curious about what thoughts had her smiling so big.

“it feels so good not being under scrutiny. no hunters with cellphones at sight, i feel so fucking light.”

“you don’t miss the city?” he asked curiously.

“not even a bit.” she answered truthfully. “when the drama began, i realized i have nothing there.“

“what about your friends? boyfriend? girlfriend?”

“no boyfriend or girlfriend.” thank god, ethan screamed internally. “and all my supposed friends turned into smoke. being friends with a liar is not good for their image, and that’s the whole reason why they hung out with me i now realize.”

“fuckers.” he spat angrily. “when your next album breaks all the records they’re going to came back with their tails between their legs and you’re going to laugh at their faces.”

how could someone she had met less than a day ago make her feel so much? “you’re setting the bar too high for my next album. what if it ends up sucking and you have to eat your words?”

he shrugged “easy, you just have to work your ass off so my ego isn’t hurt by not being right.”

“working hard is the way of making a good album? damn, i would’ve never thought of doing that!” they exclaimed sarcastically.

“lucky you met me, then.”

jokes aside, y/n really was lucky. the soft spot on her heart was slowly becoming reserved for him. feelings were already blooming and there’s nothing she could do to stop it.

she really liked how funny he was and god, she was part of hollywood yet she had never encountered someone more breathtakingly beautiful than ethan landry. but the way he constantly made her believe that she could truly get her reputation back? the way he truly had faith in her? that’s what made her certain he was the best of the best.

“would you…” he started the question, then hesitated. y/n raised her eyebrows, urging him to keep going. “would you consider leaving the city to move here?”

“right now? i would say yes, i’d really consider it. but that’s because in l.a everyone is going to shove a camera in my face and ask questions and i wouldn’t be able to go out without hate being thrown at me.”

ethan nodded. “yeah, that makes sense.”

“i guess time will tell.”

“maybe i’ll have to make sure to give you endless reason to stay.”

she had a feeling it wouldn’t take too much work. besides, him living there was enough reason to make her stay.

six months had gone by. everyone wondered where y/n was, if she was going to drop new music, if she was going to show her face, activate her social media again, if she was going to address the drama and explain her side of the story in detail. everyone speculated that she was drowning in her own misery—which they agreed she deserved for being a liar and manipulator—, they had no idea she was going better than she ever had. or that she had just finished writing her comeback album.

“this is amazing, y/n.” ethan said when he finished reading one of the songs. “everyone’s going to love it.”

they were currently sitting in y/n’s living room, just right by the fireplace. they had brought down her mattress and made a fort with the covers and pillows. ethan had begged her to show some of the songs, and she accepted. she was not showing him the ones she had written about him, though.

“i don’t know about that.” she shook her head. “anyways, i’m not doing it to be liked again. i guess the only reason i’m dropping this album is because i don’t want to keep my side of the story to myself. if i want to close this chapter of my life, everything needs to be let out. and i also want my remaining fans to know.”

“you don’t want your career back? you deserve it. you’ve worked so hard to get the spot you had before that jealous prick ruined it.” ethan spat with hatred. honestly, at this point he was more angered by the whole thing than her. it made her heart melt, the way he cared about her.

“i do want my career back, but i don’t want it to be the center of my world anymore. i’ve found other things that brings me joy, too. i don’t want to let go of them.”

ethan pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “and… what are those things?” he asked hope invading his chest.

“picnics next to the lake, taking care of farm animals, riding horses while watching the sunset, just… enjoying my life with no pressure.“ she spoke, then shoot her gaze up, meeting his. “but mostly, i enjoy doing those things with you. having you in this house, making dinner with you, baking, making forts, dancing around the kitchen… you make me want to leave my old life behind.”

ethan smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “there’s nothing i’d love more than for you to stay here with me, but i’d never ask you to give your career up.”

“i know. i know you wouldn’t, and that’s why i like you so much. you’ve been supportive since the beginning. you’re the main reason this album is going to exist. not only because you were my muse, but also because you gave me the strength to want to get my career back.”

“y-your muse? what are you talking about?”

“i only showed you two songs, the album is going to have around sixteen songs. those i showed you are about the drama, but… the concept is going to be about how finding love got me through the drama.”

“finding love? you…?” he would’ve been embarrassed of his high pitched voice if he weren’t so shocked by her choice of word.

she nodded softly, and eyed him hesitantly, trying to figure out if she’d read the signs wrong. next thing y/n knew was ethan rolling on top of her and his soft lips pressing against hers. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

“i love you, too.” she kissed him back. “eth?” he hummed. “what do you think about the basement?” she asked, making him blink in confusion.

“the basement?”

“yeah, do you think it would be a cool place to build my little recording room?”

his jaw fell open. “what are you saying?”

she traces his face features with her fingertips “i’m saying that i’m moving here. and there’s no way i’m driving to L.A everyday to record the album, i would get too tired and i’d miss you too much.”

“we could move to your apartment until you finish.” he suggested.

“you would move to the city for me?” she asked, getting a bit emotional.

his eyes sparkled. “i would do anything for you.”

“you’re so fucking sweet, but you don’t need to move. i really want to move here, for good. i would probably have to drive a few times a month for important meetings or for interviews, but this is my home. both you and this town.”

he had no words, he simply kissed her softly and then hid his warm face on the crook of her neck. after a long, peaceful silence, he finally asked. “can i read those love songs?”

y/n smiled. “why don’t i play them for you?”

“this is the best day of my fucking life. don’t move, i’ll get your guitar.” he quickly got off her and ran up the stairs like an over-excited puppy.

y/n couldn’t believe what a turn her life has done. a couple of months ago she wished to have a time machine to avoid that call that turned her life into hell. now, she found herself feeling grateful that happened. not only she felt stronger but it also showed her the fake world she had blindly been living in. and most importantly, it brought her to ethan, and she would go through hell thousands of times for him.

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@pieceuvmind

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

[silovsmenot]

You Can't Win Alone | Artūrs Šilovs

SUMMARY: After the EDM/VAN game seven, Artūrs is struggling with his emotions and needs a hug. WARNINGS: Just the depression we're all currently feeling, lots of fluff. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader. NOTES: I'm sad and got carried away, although it definitely could've been longer. And it's 1000% not edited, I may make edits a little later but this is fuelled by my depression. Under the circumstances, my submission box is reopened for any NHL one-shot/imagine requests... and expect more. WORD COUNT: 1209

You watched every shot with bated breath — hands gripping the sleeves of the crimson jersey. You and Artūrs had only recently become public with everything going on. You'd been together some months, but you knew well, Arty was a private person and these weeks had been a whirlwind since his call up.

There was no playoff jacket for you like the other wives and girlfriends but that didn’t matter, you had his bronze medal jersey. And you wore it with pride.

You held tight upon the sleeves with every shot that he faced in that first period, but he beat every one. You were beaming with pride as they returned to the ice for the second period, watching his masked face rise to try and find you in the crowd, but even in that crimson he’d struggle.

And as the shots started firing at him again, your confidence wavered. Not in him, never in him – but the team around him looked rattled. They weren’t playing like themselves, like the whole rink knew they could.

You exchanged a look of concern with a few of the other ladies, the wives and girlfriends who had immediately taken you in and made you feel welcome. Their faces were etched with equal concern, which hardly put your thoughts to ease.

It happens just as you turned back to the ice. The slapshot from the point with men in front, and your eyes tightly screwed as the quiet cheer of Edmonton fans rippled through the arena, the sighs of Vancouver fans. He couldn’t see you, but with a short breath, you looked back with a tender whisper.

‘You’ve got this, Art.’ 

You watched as his confidence returned with every save. The smile of your own confidence returning as you told yourself it was only one goal. But there was the ring of the post, the arms of Edmonton players thrown up in celebration and the murmurs once more. The team in blue looked more deflated than ever.

But there were flickers of hope, you clung to every one. Your hands hidden beneath the crimson sleeves as you held hands in front of your mouth, silently pleading for a goal for the home team. Just one goal to shift the momentum, but an open back-door on a penalty kill would put the score to 3-0 and you watched Artūrs head dropping that little bit . . . and it hurt to see.

Natalie Miller gave your hand arm a little squeeze, some confidence as the buzzer for the second period blew and all breathed a breath of relief. Surely, the third – they’d come out with confidence and snatch this thing. You hoped so desperately, everyone in that arena and watching on screens did.

And as the team skated out for the third, there looked to be a difference. A fire had been lit and they woke up. They’d come back from this before, they could do it again.

Garland shot and the arena erupted. You were pulled into arms and shouted in relief, cheering till your mouth was dry. This was it – they could do it. And then there was two, Hronek with a slapshot and nobody was in their seats. They were within one, and you could see how it lifted Art’s shoulders.

But as the clock ticked closer and closer to zero, no shots able to find the back of the net, the end was in sight. The buzzer finally sounded on a desperation shot from centre ice, and the Canucks dream of round 3 was over.

You could see the disappointment in Arty from your seat. You didn’t need to see his face clearly to know that he felt the loss, that he’d blame himself for it, at least to some degree. And as hands shook, your heart was breaking to see him so deflated. To see them all so deflated.

It felt like a long walk to the Canucks area beneath the seating, where you’d wait for him with the other wives and girlfriends. Embraces exchanged and plans being made for the summer months – nobody knew yet who would still be there next season, but that was the life of the hockey partner.

You waited in the crowd, sharing a small smile and nod of encouragement to each player who emerged from the changing room and into the arms of his partner. You waited and waited till all had emerged except for your boyfriend and Clarkie … You were just glad that Artūrs was not alone in there.

But even Clarkie would poke his head out eventually, a hand beckoning you inside with a look of concern. You did not hesitate, nor did you need to speak as you entered. As you entered, your eyes couldn’t miss the only remaining body. Still wearing his pads with hands clasped in front of him – his face was red, the ice pack on his head had melted to a bag of cold water, and his eyes were full, you couldn’t tell if he’d been crying or had been fighting the urge ever since … it didn’t matter, it broke you to see him like this.

With a shallow breath, you crossed the room in a rush. Dropping everything you had in your arms, you crouched before him with tender hands intertwining with his. It took him a moment to look at you, meeting your eyes with a sorrowful look like you’d never seen from him. You knew that this would never be easy, but difficult was an understate as you looked at him.

“Talk to me, Art.” You finally whispered after moments of silence, giving his hands a soft squeeze before they were raised to your lips. A soft kiss upon his knuckles, never breaking from his solemn gaze.

“I should’ve done better, we could’ve won.”

Arty whispered, his gaze faltered to look upon your tangled hands. His teeth biting upon his lips in an attempt to stifle any emotion from breaking through his ice-cold demeanour … but you could see right through it.

“Art, you can’t win a game on your own. You kept them in it tonight, just as you did every other night ... the guys just struggled to find the net –” You sighed. Pulling a single hand free, it came to place upon his stubbled cheek where you’d guide his eyes back to you. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Silence crept back in as he simply stared at you, your gaze watching as he battled every emotion that sought to break free. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling, but you were here to remind him that he was never alone.

“Lets get you out of that gear and get you home.” 

Silence broken again, you waited for his nod of agreement before digits began to undo the various buckles and ties of his leg pads. Pulling them free, he leaned forward to pull you into him. It wasn’t a comfortable embrace as you knelt, reaching up with arms around him, but you would stay there for as long as he needed you.

“I love you, and I am so proud of you.” You finally whispered, planting kisses wherever you could without breaking the embrace.

“I love you too, y/n.”

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine -Her Sister Spends the Night

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: I'm not a huge fan of the way this one was written but I adore this series so much. Oh also the game I am referencing of Quinn's in the beginning is the game the Avs came back from a 3-0 deficit to beat the Canucks. tehe. I love Luke Hughes but I am an Avs fan until I die. Summary: Jasmine seeks out advice from her older sister and Luke. Warnings: I don't think so? Word Count: 2,664 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

She was laying on her back as Luke was laying on top of her, his head rested on her chest. He was watching the Canucks game on the TV screen as he ran his hand up and down her side. Her fingertips trailed up and down his back slowly. The Canucks were playing the Avs and they were up by three goals.

“Why are his games always so late?” he let out with a yawn, she chuckled as she curled her fingers in his hair. 

“Time Zones, baby,” she teased.

“Time Zones are stupid,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against her collarbone. He shut his eyes as he continued peppering kisses along her skin.

“Luke,” she mumbled as a wide smile formed on her lips. She tilted her head back as she bit her lip. His hands gripped her waist tightly as she arched her back into him, “What about the game?”

“They’re up by three,” he said with a chuckle as he reached for the remote on the coffee table. Her phone started to ring on the coffee table as well. Instead of reaching for the remote, he took a hold of the phone handing it to her. “It’s your sister,” he mumbled as he reluctantly stood up from his lying position on top of her. “I’m gonna-” he trailed off as he pointed towards her bedroom.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she pulled the phone up to her ear, “Hey Jasmine, it’s late, are you okay?” Y/N asked as she stood up from the couch, turning off the TV in the process. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I just miss my sister,” she said as her voice broke slightly. Y/N pouted as she walked towards her bedroom. “Are you and Luke busy this weekend? I was wondering if I could stay with you guys for a few days.” She sniffled on her end of the phone.

She stepped inside her bedroom to see Luke sprailed out on the bed, scrolling on his phone. He lifted his gaze, admiring her frame while biting his lip. “Uh-Luke has a game Saturday afternoon but otherwise we aren’t busy,” she mumbled. Luke’s eyes widened as he nodded slightly, “I can pick you up after school tomorrow and bring you back to the city,”

Y/N sat down on the bed as Luke slid closer to her, he slowly ran his hand along her lower back. “Wait really?” she asked excitedly.

“Maybe, just maybe bring your jersey with you,” she teased. Jasmine gasped excitedly. Luke let out a dry chuckle as he slowly glided his hand beneath her shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N! It’s going to be so fun!” Jasmine said, “I just need a break from home for a few days,”

It was unusual for Jasmine to even call her sister, let alone want to come stay with her for a few days. Y/N was going to take the opportunity.

“Of course, Sis. Well, we are getting ready for bed, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Y/N offered.

“Yeah, yeah. Good night,” Jasmine said before she hung up the phone. Y/N slowly dropped the phone from her ear. She switched her gaze towards him. He smiled softly as he tilted his head to the side. 

“Is she okay?” Luke asked as he continued delicately rubbing his hand on her skin. She reached her hand over and delicately rested it onto his pinked cheeks. 

“Something seems off but she wants to come visit us,” she muttered as she ran her thumb across his cheek, “She seems to think we live together though,” she let out while squinted her eyes slightly. She smirked.

He returned the smirk as he clenched his jaw, “I guess I do spend a lot of time here, huh?”

She leaned towards him delicately pressing her lips against his. He gripped her hip tightly as she slid closer to him. She slowly climbed on top of him, straddling his body. He gripped her thighs as she grinded against his lap. She pulled her lips away from his own as she fluttered her eyes open.

“What if you did?” she mumbled as she delicately ran her finger across his lower lip. He pressed his lips against her finger, “I mean you only stay at your place when you have an early travel day. Most of your clothes are here, you buy groceries-”

“Well that’s because you were surviving on Poptarts and ramen instead of real food,” he countered as he giggled. She rolled her eyes playfully as she rested her hand on the base of his neck.

“What do you think?” she asked as she raised her eyebrows. He pursed his lips forward as he tilted his head to the side a little bit. 

“You just want help with the rent, huh? I’ve got this big NHL salary that-” he teased.

She gasped as she leaned away from him still straddling his body. She delicately slapped her hand against his chest, “You know what, just for that, I take back my offer,” She started to climb off of his lap but he quickly took a hold of her waist. Pulling her towards him, he smirked as he scanned her features. He ran his hands up and down her thighs.

“We are going to have to do some redecorating-”

“Oh shut up,” she muttered as she leaned down and kissed him urgently.

~~~

Luke stood at the stove finishing up stirring up the stirfry he made for Y/N, Jasmine, and himself. He was humming along to the country music playing. After a few more minutes, “Lukey,” Y/N called out as she walked inside with Jasmine. Luke lifted his gaze and smiled widely towards the pair that walked inside.

“Hey! Dinner is almost done. I didn’t know if you’d like stir fry. If you don’t want that I can put in a frozen pizza,” Luke expressed as he met Jasmine’s gaze. She smiled softly as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

“Stir fry is great, thanks,” she mumbled.

“Why don’t you put your stuff in our room?” Y/N offered as she delicately rested her hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. She nodded as she wandered towards the bedroom. Y/N dropped her keys on the counter beside the vase that was nearly exploding with roses. “You didn’t have to cook us dinner,” she mumbled as she leaned her head against his arm. 

He smiled as he wrapped his arm around her, he kissed her head. “Of course I did, Baby. How was the drive?” he asked as she slipped away from his grasp. She leaned against the counter, watching him add a few more seasonings to the pan. 

“It wasn’t bad, Jasmine and I jammed out to some 5 Seconds of Summer,” 

“That’s good, I’m glad,” he mumbled as he turned the stove off, “Did she tell you why all of the sudden she wanted to come visit?” he asked quietly and Y/N shook her head. “We’ll make it a fun weekend for her,” he said as he stepped away from the stove.

“Thank you,” she let out barely above a whisper. He smiled as he leaned towards her and delicately pressed his lips against her cheek.

“Come on, Baby, let’s eat,” he muttered.

After a few minutes the table was set up and the three of them were sitting and eating the amazing dinner that Luke prepared for them. “This is really good,” Jasmine said with a mouthful. 

“Thank you,” Luke said as he smiled towards Jasmine.

“Where’d you learn how to cook?” Jasmine asked. Luke took a bite of food before tilting his head back. He shrugged his shoulders.

“My older brother Quinn can cook pretty well so he’s been teaching me for the past few summers,” he explained, “Also my brother Jack and your sister can’t cook for shit so somebody has to feed them,” 

“That is not true!” Y/N countered. 

“You can make two things, burnt eggs and a decent grilled cheese.” Luke countered as his lips curled up in a half smile.

“He’s not wrong, Y/N. Remember that time you tried making mac and cheese for EJ and I and you forgot to put water in the noodles!” Jasmine let out. Luke’s eyes widened dramatically as he stared towards Y/N. 

“What do you mean you didn’t put water in the noodles?” Luke asked while chuckling.

“I went to put water in the noodles but you and EJ were screaming at one another. I forgot that I didn’t put water in it and just put the noodles on the stove,” she defended. 

“You just look into the pot, Darling, that’s how you see if there’s water in it or not,” Luke teased as he rested his hand onto her thigh. Jasmine smiled politely at the mention of EJ. 

“Not funny,” she poked his side.

~~~

It was a few hours after dinner and the three of them were sitting on the couch letting Jasmine pick a movie for them to watch. She sat leaning her body forward as she scrolled through Max trying to find something interesting enough. Y/N sat beside Luke as she curled into his side. His hand was doing small circles against her hip as he kept his gaze on his phone as he was texting with Quinn. Y/N kept her gaze on her little sister, who was a little off the whole afternoon. 

“Have you guys seen Barbie?” Jasmine asked as she stopped on the screen. Luke let out a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, we did and we got dressed up,” Y/N said excitedly.

“No way,” Jasmine said wide eyed, “Do you have pictures?” she asked. Y/N pulled her phone from her pocket as she scrolled to the handful of pictures of herself with Luke and several other couples from the team going to see the movie together. Each pair dressed up in dramatic Barbie and Ken fashion. 

Y/N was wearing a short bright pink dress with a bright white pair of sneakers. Luke was wearing a light pink t-shirt with a light blue sweater vest tied over his shoulders with a pair of white shorts. Many of the guys on the team wore similar outfits and were standing closely with their Barbie. 

“Twitter went nuts when we shared these photos,” Y/N said, mentioning the fans. Jasmine shook her head as she zoomed in on each player that was in the photo. 

“Can we watch it again?” she asked.

“Of course, let me go make us some bowls of ice cream,” Y/N said while raising her eyebrows. She stood up and Luke followed her towards the kitchen. She pulled the gallon of ice cream from the freezer and placed it onto the counter. Luke rested his hand onto the counter as he came up behind Y/N delicately kissing her cheek for a brief moment.

It wasn’t awkward for him to show affection towards Y/N that much anymore around her family. It was becoming natural and she was grateful for that.

“Is it weird that social media knows about your relationship?” Jasmine asked from the couch. Luke tilted his head to the side as he furrowed his eyebrows. Y/N took a sharp breath. Jasmine was staring towards her hands for a few seconds as she anxiously messed with her nails.

“Some of the fans aren’t the nicest to Y/N but it’s easier not hiding it from social media,” Luke explained as he met Jasmine’s gaze, “I also have seen a few signs that say something like ‘only here for Y/N’s boyfriend’.” Luke further explains as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Why do you ask?” Y/N asked Jasmine as she added another scoop of ice cream into Jasmine’s bowl.

“EJ was having Joey over for a sleepover this weekend and Joey asked me not to be there because he thought it would be obvious to EJ that we are dating,” she let out in a long rushed sentence. Luke’s eyes widened as he stuck a spoon into the bowl he claimed. 

“I-I didn’t know you and Joey were dating,” Y/N let out as she put the ice cream back in the freezer before she took a hold of the two bowls and walked towards the couch beside Jasmine.

Joey was EJ’s best friend. Since Jasmine and EJ have the same friend group, Jasmine and Joey were close as well. Y/N quickly handed Jasmine her bowl of ice cream as she sat down beside her.

“We didn’t want EJ to find out because he would flip out. I really like him but I don’t want EJ to be mad,”

“Why would EJ be mad?” Y/N asked as Luke slid closer to her, bumping his thigh against hers.

“Because he was Joey’s friend first and if he found out that we were dating it would be weird and awkward. I’m just tired of hiding it,”

“Who asked to keep it a secret?” Luke asked as he brought a spoonful of ice cream towards his mouth. It was against the diet restrictions of the season but he didn’t care. 

Jasmine stayed quiet as she brought her own spoonful towards her own mouth as she met Luke’s gaze. “It was Joey’s,” she mumbled. Y/N glanced towards Luke, hesitantly trying to find the best way to comfort her sister. “It just sucks. We were friends first! I don’t know why he wanted me out of my own house, so he can hang out with my brother. I just don’t get it,” she mumbled, getting teary eyed.

“It seems like he’s trying to spare his own feelings,” Y/N offered as she felt Luke rest his hand on her lower back, “He’s dating his best friend's sister. You guys are all in the same friend group, it could get messy. Maybe he isn’t sure how to go about all of that,”

“Well then why did he make the first move?” she pleaded. Luke's eyes widened as his lips fell into a pout.

“Guys that age don’t really think before they do something. He’s probably liked you for a long time and didn’t know what to do. Maybe now he’s panicking and doesn’t know how to handle it properly.” Luke explained. Jasmine met his gaze as she wiped a tear that fell from her eye. 

“Did you do something like that when you were younger?” she asked. 

Luke shyly smiled as he licked his lips nervously, “I didn’t really date anyone until your sister,” he muttered. Jasmine pulled her head back as she fought a smirk on her lips. 

“Really?” she asked as she glanced towards Y/N. 

“I was really focused on hockey and-”

“Shy, he’s really shy,” Y/N interrupted him as she leaned towards him. Jasmine lauaghed as she tilted her head back. Luke’s mouth fell open as he fought the smile forming on his lips.

“But if you two just talk to your brother, I’m sure EJ will be understanding. I think he’d just want you both happy,” Luke switched the subject back to Jasmine’s situation. “And if anything happens between the two of you, EJ would be more upset with Joey than you,”

“I don’t know about that,” Jasmine sighed out.

“I do,” Y/N said confidently. Jasmine smiled softly as she shifted her gaze towards the TV screen that was still showing the first second of the Barbie movie.

“So you seriously didn’t date anyone until my sister?” Jasmine questioned. Luke clenched his jaw as he pursed his lips forward. He took a long breath.

“I didn’t think I would ever be a good boyfriend,” he shrugged.

“My dad likes you, I’m pretty sure you’re a great boyfriend,” Jasmine let out while wide eyed. 

“It’s true,” Y/N mumbled as she kissed him briefly. Jasmine cringed as she pressed play on the movie finally.

[fallinallincurls]

in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one i want

this is my entry for @wyattjohnston 's winter fic exchange 2k24!! i wrote this fic for the lovely @laurenairay and i hope you love it so much! i had the best time writing this one (which means there will probably be more brock fics in the future). and shoutout to @tonyspep for bouncing ideas around with me as always!

i also made a playlist for this fic as well if you'd like to check it out!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 3.8k+

~~~~~

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a plane back to Minnesota right now so you would be home in time for Christmas. But when you arrived at the airport earlier, the board of departures were full of canceled flights including yours. And when you brought your dilemma to the customer service desk, they informed you that all flights out of Vancouver were either booked or canceled through the 26th. The day after Christmas.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. Frantically knocking on your best friend’s front door and trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to cry.

“Come on, come on, come on.” You mutter to yourself, knocking one more time in hopes that the one person you want to see right now will answer.

At that very moment, the door swings open to reveal a cozy but sleepy looking Brock. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats with an old Canucks t-shirt. His blonde hair is tousled but still somehow looks perfect and his blue eyes light up at the sight of you. You love seeing him like this, so soft and relaxed. The Brock that the media and fans don’t know, but you do. 

“Uh, hi. Again.” You say quietly while offering a watery smile.

“Y/N?” Brock asks, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You don’t blame him, it is only six in the morning. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you going home today?”

“Well yeah, but the insane snow storm had other plans. My flight was canceled and I can’t get anything until after Christmas. So I’m kind of stuck here.”

“A week of me wasn’t enough for you?” He teases, that familiar smile brightening up his face. You just shrug in response, your lips just barely tipping up at his playfulness.

Without saying another word, Brock pulls you into his arms for the tightest hug. It takes everything in you not to sob against his sturdy chest as the warmth and comfort he always carries surrounds you.

“I’m going to miss Christmas.” The terrifying admission tumbles from your lips as tears start falling. You’ve never missed a Christmas at home with your family and you can’t imagine spending the magical day stranded halfway across the continent. 

“No, you’re not.” Brock murmurs, smoothing your hair down as he holds you. The small gesture immediately makes you feel more at ease. It’s something only he knows that will help calm you down when you’re upset. Before you protest, Brock makes a split second decision. “You’re going to spend Christmas here, with me. We’re going to celebrate Christmas together. And you can stay here since all the hotels are probably booked or mad expensive, it’s just easier.”

It takes a moment for Brock’s words to register in your mind, but when they do, your heart swells. Of course he would welcome you in for a holiday that you weren’t supposed to spend with him. He would do anything for you and he’s been that way since you were kids. But right now, you’re more grateful than ever for his kindness.

“Are you sure? I was only supposed to visit you for a week.” You ask faintly, voicing the only worry that surfaced at his suggestion. 

When the University of Minnesota, the school that you’re currently a professor at, announced the dates of winter break, you immediately booked a flight out to Vancouver to spend some much needed time with your best friend. It’s tough to see Brock during the season because classes are also in session and schedules almost never line up. But you weren’t letting this opportunity pass by. The past week has been spent catching up and doing everything that was physically possible together. You couldn’t have been happier you made the trip until the debacle this morning put a damper on the unbelievable happiness you’ve been feeling since you arrived in Vancouver. 

“And the weather said a week wasn’t long enough.” Brock says, his tone of voice telling you there was no room for arguments. “I won’t let you spend Christmas alone so we’re doing this, okay? Plus, I don’t think Coolie and Milo will mind having you around for a few more days. You know how much they love you.”

“The dogs aren’t the only ones who love me.” Brock smiles at your playful comment and can’t help but chuckle at the truth of the oblivious statement. The full extent of his feelings for you that he’s been hiding for years is unknown to everyone but himself. And maybe Quinn and Petey. But he won’t admit how he feels about you until he knows the moment’s right, until maybe there’s a chance you feel the same way.

So he shrugs nonchalantly and lets a laugh slip past his lips while ignoring the way his heart races just from looking at you. Before he can say anything in response, you’re surging forward to hug him again.

“Thank you so much, really. It means the world to me. You have no idea.”

“You know I’d do anything for you.” Brock admits, honesty seeping through each word. “Besides, spending Christmas with you just made my holiday a lot more exciting.” 

“Please,” You roll your eyes in response, but the softest smile blossoms across your lips and the insane amount of anxiety that was consuming you a few minutes ago has already started to dissipate.

“C’mon,” Brock starts, pulling you through the door and over the threshold of his apartment. “You’re probably exhausted so let’s get you a nap and we’ll go from there.”

There’s no resistance as he leads you to his bedroom, hands you one of his t-shirts and tells you it’ll all be okay. Before you know it, you’re under the blankets, wrapped up in the warmth and coziness of Brock’s bed, drifting off to a much needed sleep.

When you wake up a few hours later, well rested and feeling much better, you find yourself squished between two large dogs. A giggle slips past your lips at the sight.

“Hey guys!” You exclaim, not wasting a second to give both Coolie and Milo some pets. “Lucky you, I’ll be here for a couple more days which means you’ll get plenty of extra snacks.”

“No, they won’t!” Brock calls from somewhere in the apartment, making a laugh bubble up in your throat. Even if your Christmas isn’t going to go as you had planned, you’re glad that you’ll be spending it with your favorite person in the world. 

The dogs race ahead of you to find Brock as you start making your way down the hallway. Although you’ve spent a decent amount of time in Brock’s apartment over your weeklong visit, you take a few extra seconds to look over the collection of pictures he has hanging on the wall throughout the hallway. Photos of him with his family, smiling with teammates, namely Petey and Quinn who you know have become his best friends, views from his many trips to different places around the world and of course, snapshots of you and him together. 

A smile blossoms on your face as you look over the memories frozen in time in each photo, laughing to yourself at the ridiculous ones Brock has hanging up that feature his teammates and you. But just before you’re about to head down the stairs to find him, one picture catches your eye. You don’t know how you missed it over the last week, but you must have.

Because staring back at you are little versions of you and Brock, flashing big, beaming grins at the camera in front of the sign to the summer camp you both attended for years. That’s how the two of you met and you remember looking forward to the summer just because it meant seeing and spending time with Brock. Even though you both lived in Minnesota, it wasn’t until you were older that you were able to communicate outside penpal letters sent in the mail and the ninety days you spent together on the campground where you both formed memories that will last a lifetime.

You couldn’t have been more than seven in the photo and it’s clear that both of you are happier than ever. That feeling is still present today whenever you’re with Brock, it’s nestled deep within your heart like it belongs there forever and you’ve carried it around for most of your life. It only took you years after he already had moved to Vancouver to realize that happiness can often be mistaken for love. 

Shoving those thoughts away, you bound down the stairs to meet your best friend again. There’s a new pep in your step as you’re determined to make the most of every second this Christmas even if it’s not what you expected. You’re here with Brock which is all you could ask for.

A gentle smile is already on your lips when you get to the bottom floor, but you halt almost immediately when you see the scene in front of you. Coolie and Milo are wearing the cutest doggie holiday sweaters and Brock is softly grinning while leaning against the kitchen counter which is full of a wide variety of baking ingredients. And when your eyes look over the living room, you notice a box labeled “ornaments” sitting atop the coffee table, undoubtedly full of all of the beautiful ornaments that were carefully hanging from the branches of Brock’s Christmas tree just hours ago. 

“What is-”

“I told you we were celebrating Christmas and we’re going to do it the right way.” Brock simply explains, blue eyes twinkling with joy and you see a flicker of nervousness there too. Like he isn’t sure if you like the gesture.

“Brock,” You breathe out, his name just above a whisper. 

“I know you love decorating the tree on Christmas Eve so I just took down the ornaments so we can do it together. And your family always bakes cookies the night before Christmas too and I surprisingly already had most of what we needed for the recipes.”

There aren’t enough words to properly show the gratitude, the love, that’s swelling in your chest so you just cross the room and wrap your arms around him in the tightest embrace. Brock immediately responds, pulling you even closer to him, and for a moment everything feels right. 

“Thank you,” The words are quiet, but Brock hears them and presses a delicate kiss to the top of your head. You pray he doesn’t feel the way your heart skips a beat at the sweet action and he must not because he pulls away with a big smile and a hint of mischief mixed with something else you can’t quite place evident in his eyes.

“Of course, you deserve nothing less. What do you want to do first?” He asks, ready to jump into either activity. But it’s right then that everything clicks.

“Wait, you went out in the snow to get the rest of the ingredients we needed?”

“Well, yeah, it’s not too bad. Compared to the snow we used to get at home, this is like nothing.”

“But it’s cold! And how did you get the recipes for my favorite Christmas cookies without-” You trail off, the realization setting in at the same moment Brock speaks up to confirm your suspicions.

“I called your mom. She was more than happy to share the recipes with me when I explained what I was up to. That was the easiest part actually!” 

If you weren’t already head over heels in love with him already, this moment would’ve sealed the deal. You can’t believe he went through all this trouble just to make the holiday special when you weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place. Nothing but adoration rushes through your veins and you can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks. Without hesitating, you lean up to kiss his cheek as yet another silent thank you and his skin almost immediately turns pink. 

“Alright, let’s do this, yeah?” He asks, distracting you from his reaction to the little gesture the two of you have been doing since you were younger and pulling you into the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for Christmas music to be turned on, filling the air with even more of a festive feeling. Brock makes sure your apron is tied on, just like you do for his, and then you’re off baking. You teach Brock all the techniques you’ve learned over the years from making these recipes and you get the pleasure of seeing him so free and happy.

You want to see him like this for the rest of your life. A big smile on his face, eyes crinkled in happiness and no sign of any stress hanging over him.

“What are we going to do with all these cookies?” The question falls off your lips after Brock slides the last batch into the oven. 

“Easy. You’ll take some back home with you so your mom can see how much of an awesome job I did and the rest I’ll give to the team. A lot of them won’t say no to homemade cookies even if it’s the middle of the season.” 

“If you say so,” You giggle, not being able to picture his teammates willingly accepting Christmas cookies when they’re in the middle of the best season the team has had in a long time. But you don’t argue, just set aside the best looking cookies that you and Brock decorated for Quinn and Petey, and sneak one to Coolie and Milo too, before getting the kitchen back in order.

After everything is cleaned up so the kitchen doesn’t look like a total disaster anymore and you both enjoy the takeout that Brock ordered for dinner, no time is wasted in moving to the living room to decorate the Christmas tree.

“Okay, where do we start?” You contemplate, gently placing your full mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table while surveying the tree glittering in the corner of the room. 

“I forgot how seriously you take decorating for the holidays.” Brock chuckles, opening the box that he put all the ornaments back in earlier. He didn’t really forget, in fact, he missed it more than anything. That’s more than half the reason he spent so much time taking every single bauble off the tree. Yes, he wanted to make sure Christmas was as magical for you as it would’ve been back home, but he also selfishly wanted to share this moment with you too.

And he’d be lying if he said his heart isn’t full to brim right now with what he knows is love. Not that you can tell or would ever know that.

“The tree is serious business!” You exclaim with a chuckle, watching as Brock carefully starts removing ornaments from the box one at a time. He hands you a simple, but gorgeous blue ball to hang up first.

Slowly, but surely, the two of you decorate the tree with the wide variety of ornaments Brock has. He tells you the stories behind the ones his teammates have gifted him, shares the laughter with you when he stumbles across one that has a picture of him as a toddler in the picture frame and recounts the memories of family or solo vacations whenever he hands you one that was clearly bought at a tourist shop. There’s a soft smile on Brock’s face that never disappears and you swear he keeps sneaking glances at you.  

The tree becomes more festive as each decoration once again finds a home on its branches and not for the first time today, you forget that this isn’t where you were meant to be for the holiday. But you’re kind of grateful for the snowstorm now. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten to do any of this with the man who you’ve wanted for years.

“It’s done!” You cheer with excitement when you place the last ornament on the tree. “We did a pretty good job. Don’t you think?” Stepping back to admire the beautiful work you both did, your shoulder bumps Brock’s and that familiar shock of warmth floods through your veins at the brief contact. 

“It’s the best Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.” Brock responds playfully, but there's a faint tone of seriousness evident in his voice. His eyes are glistening in the glow of the lights and you can’t deny how perfect he looks so cozy and joyful like this. 

A few seconds later, without you realizing, Brock slips away to put the box away until it was time to take all the holiday decorations down in a few weeks. But to his surprise, there is one last ornament sitting in the box that was somehow forgotten.

“Y/N,” Brock laughs, picking up the decoration. “We forgot one.”

“No way! What is it?” Nothing but curiosity and excitement is evident in your voice. You cross the room to Brock and lean into his side to see what the mystery ornament is.

And when you get a glimpse, your breath is stolen away. Because in Brock’s hand is a small photo of a grinning little boy and girl sitting together at a picnic table inside a picture frame made of colored popsicle sticks. The two words “best friends” are written in black marker across the bottom of the frame in a neat, but childish looking style of handwriting.

Recognition washes over you instantly.

“I made that,” You start, almost stunned as you look between the homemade ornament and Brock’s face.

“You did. Like decades ago.” Brock chuckles, the sound fills the room with happiness and light. He still remembers the day you gave him this little gift. It was the last day of summer camp and before you both said goodbye with a promise to see each other soon, you gave him the gift. For only being nine years old at the time, Brock thought it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. Plus, that way he had a little piece of you back home too.

Since then, he’s cherished this adorable, homemade ornament like nothing else. It always seemed a little silly to him, to hold onto a childhood craft, but seeing your reaction right now tells him it means just as much to you as it does to him.

“And you still have it. You kept it all this time?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?” The question is gentle, but full of genuine interest. There’s a beat of comfortable silence as Brock battles with his thoughts for a moment. He knows this is it. This is the moment he finally tells you how he feels. All of the nerves and worries he had about confessing how his heart beats just for you falls away in mere seconds.

Your brows furrow at the strange look on his face. His blue eyes are full of an emotion you can’t place and the softest smile graces his lips. But more than anything, there’s a trace of clarity on display across his features. His gaze flicks down to your lips a few times before he speaks. 

“Because you’re my best friend.” Brock whispers, each word carrying more weight than ever before. “But I don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.” He admits, a weight lifting off his shoulders as the words hang in the air for a moment.

He doesn’t have to say anything else because you know what it is right then. He is in love. With you.

“And you’re my best friend, but I want us to be more too.” Brock’s face practically lights up at your response, knowing that you feel the same way he does. It almost feels like a dream that after years, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore if you have fallen for him too.

“Can I kiss you?” Brock asks with a gentle voice as one hand settles on your hip before pulling you in closer. “We did somehow end up under the mistletoe.” He points up to where the collection of leaves are hanging in the entryway you’re both standing under. You can’t help but laugh at the sight and nothing but pure elation fills your heart.

“Yes, please.” 

He cradles your cheek with one hand while the other stays on your hip, keeping you pressed against his body. You can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face before his lips catch yours in the softest, most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. The rough feel of his scruff against your smooth skin makes you giggle a little bit, which Brock responds to by deepening the kiss even more.

It’s absolutely perfect. You’ve dreamt of this exact moment more times than you’d like to admit, but it’s everything and more. And by the way Brock is holding you, it’s obvious he’s been waiting for this too.

When he reluctantly pulls away a few seconds later, there’s a new glimmer that you’ve never seen before in his bright blue eyes. He looks like the human form of sunshine right now and you can’t take it. You reach up to brush a lock of blonde hair back off of Brock’s forehead. He gives your hip a reassuring squeeze, a reminder that this is in fact real.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Brock murmurs, his smile just mere centimeters away from yours.

“I think I do.”

And without hesitation, you lean in to kiss him again. Once because it’s been a long night, twice because it’ll be alright, three times because you waited your whole life.

Before any fears or worries can creep in and ruin the moment, Brock wraps you up in a tight hug. Your head rests against his chest where you can hear his steady heartbeat.

“We’ll figure everything out. I promise.” He says calmly, somehow knowing what your next thought is going to be. “But it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want to do anything else but enjoy being here with you.”

“I’ve never been so grateful for a snowstorm in my life.” You laugh, pure bliss humming through your body.

“Me either. Who would’ve thought that’s all it would’ve taken for this to finally happen?”

Later that night, when you’re snuggled up with Brock on the couch watching Home Alone while Coolie and Milo sleep nearby, you realize that you did in fact get to spend Christmas at home even though you didn’t make it back to Minnesota. Because Brock is home. Just being in his arms brings you the same kind of comfort and love you cherish so deeply.

Almost as if he can sense that you’re getting lost in your thoughts, Brock raises a brow in silent question when you look up at him. You just smile in response before leaning up to kiss his cheek which earns you a sweet grin.

“Merry Christmas, Brock.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Brock murmurs softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “So happy my Christmas wish came true this year.”