#where the canucks are based

[2bluetwo85]

Sometimes, I think that the stereotype that Canadians are obsessed with hockey is a little over-exaggerated, and then I remember that my school admins moved the AP exam setup forward so that people could watch the Canucks vs. Oilers game on Friday, and that one of my teachers started class on Tuesday by asking if people were going to watch the game, and another teacher's farewell was "Go Canucks!", and that I'm anxiously waiting for the results even though I don't watch hockey

[star2fishmeg]

ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ

[25.3k] Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | summer houses and situationships. For three years straight everyone had to watch Quinn and y/n be more than friends but less than a couple until the curse of the lake house stirs the pot Warnings | 18+ smut, childhood friends to situationship to lovers, swearing, the Tkachuks-, underage drinking, insecurities (appearance, self-esteem), dry humping, protected p in v, suggested blowjob, jealousy, angst, making out, creepy behaviour towards y/n, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl), fingering, fluff Authors Note | my canucks pint glass arrived and i really put my whole megussy into this. Based on this after hours! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes ♫ objects in the mirror - mac miller  [small worlds masterlist]

The Hughes lake house had some sort of curse to it. One that turned hot summer days, even hotter and changed the trajectory of relationships. Quinn and y/n could go through the school term smoothly, balancing homework, hockey and hanging out without stress, distracted by their friend groups until the summer. But one foot on the lake house driveway and the atmosphere would shift. Hormones would surge, and suddenly, all that mattered was who liked who, how good they looked and if they were missing out on core experiences. Something about that lake house confining them just stirred the pot too well.

Y/n L/n had lived next to Quinn Hughes since she was a child in a quiet neighbourhood in the suburbs of Toronto, where surviving winters became second nature, where watching hockey became second nature due to her father’s unhinged passion for the sport that flowed through the genes. Her mother never really understood it, but her children did, resulting in the winter’s plans revolving around the hockey schedule, but bumping into Ellen Hughes next door, she came around. 

Ten-year-old y/n sat on her front porch step, huddled in her thick coat and hat while the cold bit her nose frozen. It had finally stopped snowing, the one day in January when it hadn’t snowed once, not that they needed any more, the houses constantly blanketed in white, driveways and roads shovelled and gritted clear every morning. She could’ve been building a snowman with her little brother and dad, watching TV with her mum in the warmth of the living room, or even sledging with her friends as she had originally planned. However, instead, she sat stiff, but happily, on the step and watched the Hughes boys play hockey on the road with their two beaten-up goals, sticks and a plastic ball (it used to be a puck but since Jack sent it straight into her dad’s car door last year, Jim sent the terrified boy over to apologise and told them to use hollow plastic balls while on the road). She smiled brightly the whole time, listening to the ball rattle and skid along the concrete, and Quinn scolded Jack for being too rough on Luke, who had no choice but to be the goalie, being the youngest of the three. Fortunately, she’d never had to have that experience, but Luke’s lip wobbling and Quinn pulling him into a hug was like looking into a mirror, reminding her that she had a six-year-old brother to take care of. 

She’d been too focused on watching her brother fuss around with her dad, both attempting to roll the snow into their snowman’s head to notice the first time Quinn approached her. His boots crunched into the grit along the path, two hockey sticks in his hockey-glove-clad hands and stopped a small distance opposite her sitting figure. She looked up at him, almost startled that he’d approached her after ten years of being neighbours, his chubby cheeks flushed pink and tufts of brown hair sticking out from under his Maple Leafs beanie. Many days, she’d watched him from afar, out the window or school, observing his comforting demeanour in nothing but adoration like a little puppy; whatever Quinn was up to, her curiosity was piqued. Now he’d seen her physical being and why her heart raced was confusing and nothing she’d felt before.

“Would you like to join us?” he asked politely, holding one of the sticks out. That’s what he was, the quiet and polite brother, she’d noticed that at the neighbourhood barbecues at least, compared to Jack, who, while Quinn softly offered her participation with heaven in his eyes, yelled at the top of his lungs for Quinn to hurry up. The middle child, the loudest child, but the one with the biggest smile and brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

“Uh,” she pursed, “yeah, but I don’t know how to play.” She lied, of course; she knew how to play, but the boys were so much better than she was and looking stupid wasn’t part of her ego; she was the eldest daughter, and failure wasn’t an option.

“It’s okay, I’ll teach you.” he giggled and let her take the stick, patiently waiting for her to follow him. Stick in hand, she followed, gaze never leaving his face.

“I don’t have any gloves either.”

Quinn halted, spinning on his heel and tucking his stick under his arm. He took her free hand, gently pulled it towards him, and un-velcroed his glove, “Use mine, it’s better your hands protected from Jack.” He repeated for her other hand, flashing a smile before heading to his brothers.

“Y/n’s playing?” Jack piped up, she nodded, “Cool! Now we have a goalie so Luke can play!”

Quinn scowled at him, “No, we have even teams. Y/n’s the oldest so she can choose her teammate.” He wasn’t wrong, she was just about older than Quinn, not by much. 

“I pick Quinn. He’s gonna teach me how to play though.” The choice wasn’t much of a surprise to Jack, he may have been nine but the moment his brother stopped their game - a rare occurrence -  and laid eyes on her, he figured that Quinn’s priorities had shifted and all of a sudden their trio would develop to a quartet. 

Jack let out an elongated whine, “She doesn’t know how to play? Quiiiiinn!!”

“So? We didn’t at one point.” Quinn asserted in his stern tone. That was the last complaint Jack made. He watched his older brother teach her visually with patience; hand positioning on the stick, stance how low she needed to be, how to shoot and manoeuvre the ball, praising her passing to him. Luke and Jack watched quietly, the latter not too convinced she was a beginner at what he was watching but Quinn had never smiled that softly before, not even with Luke, and never had that level of patience with them. Seeing how encouraging Quinn was being, either way,  Jack knew exactly what kind of hockey player he wanted to be. 

Five years later Toronto still wrapped itself in its white blanket, pinching civilians with its cold hands and being a safety hazard to the roads for no real reason. Y/n had grown to hate it, not because she didn’t think it was beautiful, but because she missed the months when she didn’t have to spend five minutes just layering up before she could leave the house. What she didn’t hate was watching her brother be forced into shovelling the driveway. Her father and Jim seemed to have formed this alliance involving the youngest doing manual labour before school, and let Quinn, Jack and y/n watch and sit smug. Jack said it was because they skipped hockey practice to go to the arcade, which although no one would say aloud, she knew that it was her brother’s idea, that’s just eleven-year-old boys. She and Quinn neither confirmed nor denied the story, even if they had known about it the whole time, Quinn even heard them talking about it and y/n caught them at the arcade on their hands and knees scavenging for coins.

What had changed in those five years was life itself. Fifteen years old, the age when classmates' growth spurts became the bane of every parent’s existence, boy’s voices dropped and cracked and when everyone suddenly cared about everything about anyone. What they were wearing, how big their chests had grown, if it was normal for tummies to fold when they sat down, who was dating who, where the term ‘slut’ was thrown around casually, who was hot and who was not, what was cool and what was cringe - the whole ordeal that tore teenagers up inside.

Y/n hadn’t cared too much for what she wore, or how she looked until a couple of girls at school pointed out that wearing graphic t-shirts and cargo trousers made her a boy (which was absolute bullshit, but one person’s insecurities become someone else’s in adolescence), and that having a few spots on her skin meant she was ugly. And if it wasn’t girls tearing each other to shreds over minor things such as that, then it was the boys in constant competition with one another to be ‘the alpha male’, as Quinn described to her. The other thing about the situation was that someone had projected the idea that boys and girls simply can’t be just friends. And if by chance the two groups were, the belief was that one of them was secretly in love with the other, or they were using them to get to their friend or learn how to impress. Fifteen-year-olds really couldn’t decide if they wanted to kiss or kill each other on-site. Y/n knew what she wanted, but wasn’t sure if she was allowed to want it. Her friends asked her regularly; ‘do you prefer Jack or Quinn? Who’s cuter?’, to which she never replied, at least twice a month. 

Bang. Swipe. Bang. Swipe. Bang. Y/n and Jack shot pucks into the net consecutively like clockwork. With Luke and her brother at practice (this time) and Quinn out with friends, she and Jack were left to entertain each other. Usually, the eldest Hughes would’ve been the one shooting pucks with Jack, but the more y/n joined him, the more Jack preferred rallying with her. 

Jack took a firm shot, the puck darting but bouncing off the crossbar, thumping into the fence, and chipping the wood, “Oh come on! We had such a good thing goin’!”

She only giggled and watched him gather pucks to start rapid firing to make up for it. His eyes shined, a fire burning in them as he went on. She knew the girls fawned over him, worshipped him like some prince despite never speaking to him. She knew they thought he was pretty, she knew he was pretty with a charming smile and that Jack used to navigate his way around school. But on the ice that didn’t matter. At home that didn’t matter. Those girls would never know Jack, they’d never know that the moment something's wrong he’d run to Quinn, never know that he’d do anything for Luke and most importantly they’d never know that he and y/n spent more time together than either of them let on. 

“Are girls and guys your age allowed to be friends?” she blurted out, staring blankly at him. Jack lowered his stick and turned to face her.

“What?,” he said, dumbfounded at such a random question to ask on a Saturday afternoon, “Why wouldn’t they? Someone say somethin’ to you? Someone makin’ fun of you and Quinn? Did Quinn say anything?” 

He may be a little brother, but he was also, someone’s older brother. The way his boyish smile dropped and jaw tensed, the grip on his hockey stick tightened, how could anyone not think Jack Hughes was cute? 

“No, no- Quinn’s fine! Just that kids my age say that they can’t. That one of them always likes the other. But hearing what you said makes me realise it’s just dumb.” 

“Well, you’re a girl, I’m a guy and we’re friends, right?” his body relaxed, and he turned to shoot pucks again. Hockey mind, hockey heart. Y/n watched him momentarily before rejoining him, sweeping a puck from the pile between them and whacking it at the net. “You and Quinn are friends too, right?”

As she lined up her stick to take another shot, she paused, her mind draining, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she took the shot, Jack following with a toothy grin, “Rowdy, do you think your girl friends are pretty?”

She’d thought about it regularly if it was acceptable to believe your friends were attractive or if you had to believe they weren’t. It was hard to deny that Hughes had strong genes, Ellen was beautiful after all. Luke still had the cuteness of youth, barely grown into his features, Jack owned the blue eyes and pretty smile of a prince but Quinn? The dark curls and quiet nature was his forte. 

“Some,” he shrugged, “Quinn thinks you’re pretty. He likes your t-shirts and laugh.”

Y/n froze and looked at him bug-eyed. He snitched on Quinn so casually, like the weight of his words wouldn’t unleash butterflies into her stomach. At the same time, she tried to process the information, she couldn’t help but be curious to know what kind of conversation went down for Quinn to admit that. 

“My friend, Trevor, thinks you’re pretty too, but I think he just likes your boobs. Oh, one of Quinny’s friends said he’d take you, whatever that means, but Quinn literally yelled at him. I have never seen him so close to hitting a guy.” 

Trust Jack to spill all his friend’s and brother’s secrets, she’d expected nothing less from him. Quinn getting so riled up over a comment wasn’t on her bingo card, he wasn’t the kind of guy to react aggressively let alone hit someone, he rarely fought in hockey let alone outside of it. The other two comments didn’t mean half as much as Quinn’s, teenage boys were immature and violently horny, but processing what Quinn’s friend had - allegedly - said did bring a nauseating feeling in her stomach, but she didn’t think any of his friends would ever say anything like that out loud ever again, not while Quinn was around at least. 

*

Thirty minutes. Quinn had gotten home from practice thirty minutes ago and her phone hadn’t flashed once. Thirty minutes of constant checking for his name on her screen, although nothing new. He always texted her after practice, letting her know he’d be home if she needed anything, but this evening he hadn’t. If it were anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye, but she watched their car pull up on their drive, she watched Jack barrel out but hadn’t seen Quinn. While she waited, she completed her homework, milked Vine dry, and scrolled Instagram and YouTube wasn’t hitting. Y/n sighed, tossing her phone onto her bedsheets, grabbed her plaid pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt and concluded a shower should ease her mind.

It didn’t. She dropped him a text but to no surprise, it sat unread. Her stomach stirred, her gut feeling wailing sirens and adrenaline swirling through her body. Looking at the time, 19:48, and weighing out the decision that he was only next door, y/n slipped a hoodie over her head, threw her trainers on and crept out the front door to the Hughes. If he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him, prepared for whatever mood or situation he was in. 

She knocked gently twice, knowing she wouldn’t be waiting long since Jim was a prompt door-answerer. Even so, the breeze was nippy, her hoodie not doing much to hold her warm in the evening chill. The lock jolted from the other side, but Jim didn’t stand before her this time, it was Jack, who couldn’t have made it more obvious that his nerves struck him by his wide eyes and faltering jaw as if he were trying to get the words out.

“Is Quinn home?” 

Jack, stepped back hesitantly, letting her shuffle past him and into the hallway, “Uh, yeah but he’s pissed. Like, really pissed. Mum’s already tried to talk to him but…just be careful, remember that anything he says when mad, he doesn’t really mean.”  

She nodded, heart hammering in her chest as she carefully made her way up the stairs, tiptoeing around loose hockey gloves. The wall was covered in family photos and awards, y/n always noticed the photograph of all three boys standing outside last autumn, Quinn wearing the grey hoodie that was glued to him, Jack in full burgundy (hat and coat too) and Luke in a Michigan University fleece that looked a little big on him, all refusing to smile. The landing upstairs was fairly simple, the stairs being in the corner, and the corridor being a long strip. Luke’s room at the front of the house facing out into the street, Jack’s on the left side opposite Quinn’s, whose was on the right next to the stairs and Jim and Ellen’s at the back, facing into the garden. Considering they were neighbours, her house layout differed entirely, but after many years of running in and out, she memorised the rooms.

Standing outside his door, she knocked softly and waited for approval. She knocked again but also received no answer. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, she turned the handle and poked her head through the crack. He’d heard the door click, stuffing his navy sheets into his face as she padded in quietly, closing the door behind her. The pounding of her heart stayed, her palms becoming clammy seeing the state of his room. It was never tidy, but the laundry hamper being kicked over was new. His collection of hockey sticks that he was adamant to keep upright had toppled to the floor and going by the skewed photo frame on his wall indicated that he’d slammed the door harder than he meant to. Sending his sulking figure a glance, she repositioned the photo. One where the two of them sat in her living room, huddled together wearing - Quinn’s - Maple Leafs jerseys while watching the game. 

“Fuck off, Jack,” his voice barely audible, “If you’re here to chirp, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Quinn felt the mattress dip beside him, “Not gonna chirp you, Q.”

He shot up, the duvet whipping towards her to uncover a dishevelled Quinn, hair tousled and t-shirt crumpled from hiding under his covers for so long, “y/n? Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” 

Whatever sour mood that intoxicated him washed away and was replaced with concern strangling him. His eyes widened, he’d completely ghosted her, too wrapped up in his self-wallowing, stomach dropping at how close he was to taking his frustration out on her too. He ran his hands over his face, the giggle she let out soothing his mood like a warm embrace.

“I’m good. But a little bird told me you’re not,” taking his hands into her own, she pulled them into his lap, “You wanna talk about it?”

His gaze softened, shoulders slumping but heat rising in his neck as he kept their hands in his lap. She was so cold, although not far, she still came to him in thin pyjamas while the cold raged in a bitter attitude. Her thumb circled over his knuckles, attempting to calm him but instead of his heart finding a slow rhythm, it thundered in his chest unbearably. 

He shrugged, “Not much to say,” his jaw opened, fumbling to get the words out, “I don’t know, practice just went to shit. Felt like I could’ve done more, got screamed at by coach, alone, I was sloppy…but don’t pep-talk me, mum’s given me like, five.”

Y/n watched the light in his eyes fade, his voice becoming raspy the more he spoke about just a bad day. But a bad day was never a bad day with Quinn, it was the weight of the world crushing his shoulders as the oldest, and prodigy. If he slipped up once, it meant he would keep slipping up and let everyone down, let himself down until nobody believed in him anymore. She got it. She empathised, one of the only people in his life who could read his mind, dig into the crevices of his anxieties and ease them with just her existence alone. The more their skins held contact, the more fuzzy he felt inside, like a thousand flowers blooming in his chest at once.

“Wasn’t gonna. C’mere,” she held her arms out, letting him melt into her for a much-needed hug. Much needed indeed, Quinn’s arms hugged her waist tightly, burying his nose into the hollow of her neck while her fingers carefully threaded through his thick hair. Every insecurity that ate him up flushed away like the world had frozen and it was just the two of them, on his bed, wrapped up in each other with a confusing lightheadedness between them. Feeling his face nuzzle into her shoulder, her lips twitched into a smile and planted a chaste kiss on his hair. She realised she had done that seconds afterwards, as if she’d done it on autopilot but it was something she’d seen her parents do when seeking comfort, and she’d watched it on TV shows. Nerves choked her, hoping Quinn wouldn’t find it weird and shove her away, yelling all sorts of horrible things and never wanting to see her again. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled their bodies backwards into his mattress.

Unwrapping her arms from his shoulders, she propped herself up, hands either side of his head while his hands sat loosely on her waist. His throat dried and he gulped, y/n’s nose ghosting his, eyes meeting before darting away to each other's lips, only to scan features. Her ears burned, the butterflies in her stomach storming and in that moment she accepted that she did and could find Quinn Hughes attractive. His hands on her body, his captivating eyes, the brown curls, the mole on his right cheek, plump lips slightly parted. The way his awful mood was sidelined when he knew it was her in his bedroom. All in her grip, right in front of her.

“Come back,” he mumbled, arms snaking around her waist firmly. Y/n nodded, licking her lips with adrenaline surging through her veins. Did kisses mean anything? What did it feel like to taste another person? How did kisses work? There was only one way to find out, and she had the opportunity clawing for her, “Stay.” 

She lowered herself onto her elbows and tucked herself into his chest, her ear pressed against his pectoral, listening to his nerves pulse rapidly and laid her hand flat on his chest. They shimmied around, untucking the duvet from their bodies and pulling it over themselves. Quinn’s hand slipped into her pocket, sliding her phone out and placing it on his nightstand. She should’ve told her parents where she was, but with enough faith Ellen or Jack would say something. That was the last thing on her mind, the biggest crisis that set all alarms off inside her head was that she was cuddling a boy for the first time. She was sharing a bed with a boy. And she liked it. Perhaps more than she should have, this was her childhood best friend, a boy she’d grown up with, and although properly known for five years, had spent almost every day with him. 

Quinn’s eyes fluttered closed, a small smile creeping onto his lips yet he could never describe the mayhem that stormed in his stomach. He almost kissed his first and best female friend. In his bed. Alone. Where no one would know about it. He wasn’t ready to try and forget about it yet, move on and hope she wouldn’t think he was using her or thinking she was easy. His friends had said he was lucky to have a girl friend because it meant he could get whatever he wanted, not that he agreed with that stance. He held her close and firm, relishing in the company of another while it lasted, and before his parents would give him an earful about it.

*

Valentine’s Day was far too meaningful for teenagers, at least in y/n’s mind. You’re essentially celebrating a relationship that’s likely to end by the end of high school but acting like it’s the live-all and end-all. Or maybe she just didn’t understand the feeling or concept. No one had ever asked her out or asked her to be their Valentine before. She watched a couple of her friends go through it, one being over-the-top romantic with a bouquet, card and gift and the other being underwhelming, being nothing but a few words and a box of chocolates hand-me-down. He could have at least bought the chocolate himself instead of using one another girl gave him. 

With the final bell ringing a few minutes ago, the hallway was finally empty, only y/n and a few other students left at their lockers. She had time, her dad wouldn’t arrive for another seven minutes to pick her up since the Hughes boys left pronto for practice. She fished through her locker, checking for any love letters that could have been posted through the vents but to no surprise, nothing out of the ordinary. Did Quinn receive anything? Did other girls like his brooding demeanour like her? Did he accept any confessions? That hit her in the gut, hard. He wasn’t hers but why did thinking about sharing him make her blood boil so much? Exhaling sharply, she slammed her locker shut, only to come face to face with a guy who resembled Quinn, but instead of blue eyes his were brown, and his bone structure had chiselled out faster. He leaned against the lockers, arms folded and flashed her a smile. She thought she recognised him, he played on the same team as Quinn and Jack. His name wasn’t important (she couldn’t remember), but she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive. 

“Hey y/n,” she smiled at him, “So uh, this ain’t easy but you’re hard to catch alone.”

“Can I help…you?” she bit her lip, the pit of her stomach becoming tight and tingly with his eyes never leaving hers.

“Just wondering if you’d wanna grab smoothies this weekend…like a date?” he didn’t speak softly like Quinn, he was loud and almost expectant. She wondered if he would pay, or if she had to. Quinn always paid, and always knew her order too. Even if she didn’t ask him to, he’d do it. Snapping back to the situation at hand, her breath hitched. She needed to stop thinking about Quinn. He wasn’t Quinn and the latter had nothing to do with him. Perhaps agreeing would get him out of her head. 

“Uh, sure but-” before she could finish, two of his friends burst out from around the corner, high-fiving and laughing like deranged hyenas. The guy in front of her also started laughing, looking down at her with a condescending glint in his stupid eyes.

“YO! That’s twenty bucks!” his friend yelled to the other, slapping his hand out, “Told you he’d do it!”

“Shut the fuck up, you got lucky! He caught her when Quinn wasn’t around.” The other grumbled, dropping the cash into his hand. 

The guy at her locker laughed, “As if anyone would ask you out, be real, y/n.” And all three left, karma soon hitting them at realising hockey practice started ten minutes ago. Y/n stood frozen, emotions swirling and nausea she could only describe as a whirlpool of humiliation and stupidity. She should’ve listened to her gut when it raised red flags.

As if anyone would ask you out, y/n.

He caught her when Quinn wasn’t around.

All she wanted was Quinn now, to run and squeeze him, but instead, she had a quiet car ride home with her dad to get to.

Quinn pulled his gear off aggressively, chucking his helmet into his stall, almost shoving the gear into his bag, disregarding how expensive the lot of it was. It was one of those days where he wished he could leave his stuff at the rink. He spoke to no one and no one dared talk to him, not even Jack, who’d warned his friends to lay off the chirping. When he’d overheard his teammates proudly laughing about what they’d done to y/n in the hall, his offensive-defensive playstyle switched to straight-up bloodlust with poison in his eyes. Now even in the locker room, his jaw clenched harshly and the other boys swore they could feel the rage radiate off his body. 

“Yooo, Hughes,” Locker Guy mused casually, a shit-eating grin smeared across his face, “why so worked up? S’just a game.”

Everyone eyed each other, although he was referencing hockey, Quinn was not in a hockey mood. He approached Quinn, throwing his arm around his shoulder while he packed the last of his stuff away.

“Silent treatment? Damn, didn’t know it meant that-”

Before he could finish, Quinn swung, right-hooking his cheek. Locker Guy stumbled back, cupping his cheek with wide eyes. He was stunned, the room was. Not even Jack had seen him hit a guy before, and Quinn didn’t think he would until then, but the adrenaline and aggravation just got the better of him and he’d seek revenge in any way if it would be for y/n.

“Take the twenty and shove it up your ass,” he slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his stick, “y/n’s not just a game.” And he stormed out. Jack bid goodbye to his friends, sloppily grabbing his bag and stick before stumbling out after Quinn. 

When arriving home shortly after, Quinn dumped his bag in the hallway, ignoring Ellen’s voice calling for him, Jack did a good job at covering for him. He burst into his room, rummaging around his desk for a post-it note, scribbling his mind on it. Pulling a small box from his school bag, he stuck the note onto it and rushed out of his house as fast as he’d rushed in.

He rang the doorbell and pounded on the door but to no avail. Her parent’s cars were absent but he knew too well that she had nowhere to be on a Tuesday evening. Groaning, he jogged to the side gate, rattling the handle and pushing it open, listening to it creak and click behind him. He didn’t bother sneaking around, the security light bright enough to illuminate the entire garden for anyone to try. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry, he would’ve taken more time to appreciate her mother’s handiwork: flowerbeds of pansies waiting for their time lining the fences, he remembered planting a few before the snow season. Quinn reached the back porch steps, walking up with a light foot and trying the back door. Locked. Of course. Spinning on his heel, he swore under his breath, completely jumping down the three steps and taking a short right to find the trellis on the wall.

“Mrs. l/n, I sincerely apologise for this, once again,” he mumbled, taking the box between his teeth and carefully placing his hands and foot on the wood, hoping that he hadn’t crushed any of the flowers weaved through. He slowly climbed until the porch roof came to his level. Thanking the heavens that the pitch was low, he used all his upper body strength to hoist himself on, ensuring his footing was secure, taking the box from his mouth and creeping up to her bedroom window. 

Y/n sat on her bed, cosied up in her pyjamas and laptop playing YouTube, anything that would redeem the afternoon she’d had, but nothing could prevent the tears from spilling out her eyes when the memory of it flushed over again. Her parents had gone out, and her brother went to his friend’s for dinner so she lucked out on being left alone for the evening, she didn’t feel like discussing how her day went. The quiet car ride home was enough, even though her dad knew something was wrong. 

The screen on her phone flashed, and she would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t flashed a second time immediately after.

Qutie At window pls open It’s cold

“The fuck?” she whispered, drawing her blind and sliding the window up, watching Quinn clamber his way into her room. She hastily wiped her eyes, “Q, you could’ve just knocked?”

He straightened out his clothes, closing her window, “I did. And tried the back. And here I am.”

“Oh…sorry,” she bit her cheek, “Q, I’ve had a bad day, I’m not really-”

“-I know. I know what happened, and he won’t think about it again,” he paused, peering down at the box in his hands, “actually he won’t talk to you again.”

“What did you do?” she asked, stepping closer with her arms folded, the sun breaking through her grey clouds after the storm.

“It doesn’t matter,” with a gentle smile and rosy cheeks, he held the box of chocolates out to her. Her gaze jumped from him to the gift in her hands and scanned the note stuck on top, the words written in red with little heart doodles. Her lips twitched upwards unstoppably and the blossoming warmth spread through her body and soul again.

Will you be my Valentine? - Q

“Sorry I didn’t give it to you earlier, I got swept up. I saw you looking at these the other day, it’s not much but I wanted to-” his speech was interrupted when she threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his torso tight and muffled ‘thank you’s just audible. 

Holding her close, he grinned, “-Anytime.”

*

That summer was the first year Quinn took y/n to the lake house in Michigan. If Jack was allowed to bring his friends, he refused to endure that alone, like Luke had to. Luke begged her brother to be his plus one, but he’d been swept up by his friends too soon. That was also the first time y/n met Cole and Trevor, the two Jack constantly talked about. They didn’t go to the same school as them, he’d met them through hockey camps and they didn’t sound too bad. Quinn always warned about Trevor, something about being a yapper but worse. 

Coming face to face with the lake house, y/n hadn’t expected it to be as large as it was, she didn’t really know what to expect when Jim described it as having a games room in the basement that had access to the garden, a first floor that had a beautiful view of the lake from the porch and a second floor with five bedrooms. Yet there she was, standing on the driveway admiring the blue and white home as she’d never seen a structure that big before while Quinn, Ellen and Jim unloaded the car. 

“Y/n!” Jack called. She turned towards his voice to be met with two other boys, “This is Trevor,” he gestured to the taller one with tanned skin, “and that’s Cole.” The shorter one.

“Ah, Trevor, the one who likes my boobs,” she recalled, raising her eyebrow at Trevor, who elbowed Jack in the ribs, muttering a ‘dude!’. Cole chuckled at the embarrassment creeping on Trevor’s face, “s’chill. Not the worst thing I’ve heard but definitely something best kept unsaid.”

She may have been okay with it, but a certain brother listening in was far from okay with it, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the suitcases and his brows knitted deep on his forehead. 

*

She tossed and turned, frustrated that her eyes refused to stay closed. Every time, she’d fallen asleep, the thunder outside clapped and jolted her awake again. If it wasn’t the weather hammering down keeping her awake, it was Trevor’s snoring from the bed. Herself, Trevor and Cole ended up sharing the spare room, the boys in the double bed and y/n opting to take the mattress on the floor (she refused to lay next to either of the boys, even if that meant sacrificing the space). 

As she lay facing the ceiling, she weighed out her options. She either stay there and have the thunder throw her into a wall and have Trevor’s snoring rattle through her bones or find somewhere else to sleep. The living room was one option, but Jim was an early riser and she didn’t enjoy the idea of being woken up by plates and pans crashing around. Then there were the boys’ rooms. Luke also snored, she knew that first-hand from the journey to the lake house, kid snored like a champ the whole time. Jack wiggled too much, a true duvet twister, waking up with pyjama bottoms to pantaloons. And Quinn, well she knew he was perfect, warm and an incredible cuddler. It wasn’t a hard decision.

She poked her head out the door, peeking left and right. The spare room was on the right-hand side, next to the staircase, while Quinn’s sat at the back left corner. Slipping through the gap, she shut the door silently behind her and tiptoed down the hall to Quinn’s room. 

His room looked identical to his Toronto room, blue-grey walls, dark oak furniture and navy sheets, but less hockey. Quinn was a peaceful sleeper, never appeared irritated but his hair was always messy somehow. Y/n slipped under the sheets with him, rolling onto her side to face him. He stirred, snuggling into his pillow and his eyes fanned open. His eyelashes were longer and thicker than she thought, why did boys get that gift but not girls? 

“Hi,” she whispered, sleepy gazes locking.

“Hi,” he rasped, voice deeper than usual from being riddled with sleep, “can’t sleep?”

She shook her head slightly. Quinn smiled, opening his arms, rolling onto his back and letting her slot herself into him like a puzzle piece, her head on his chest. She listened to his heart, the rhythm syncing with hers as it lulled her to sleep, Quinn’s arms loosely around her, but enough to confirm that he had her and was still there while the weather screamed and cried outside.

At sixteen, y/n obtained her first boyfriend, Leo, which surprised her and her friends. Not because they didn’t think she didn’t deserve him, but because he was the complete opposite of Quinn and because he wasn’t Quinn. Blond hair, green eyes, chatty and outgoing, always referred to her as ‘princess’ and could be a likeable guy. Except her friends never asked if he would like to hang with them. They never asked if he’d like to sit with them at lunch. Rarely had interest in him and he had no interest in them. They tried to talk to y/n, but her head was too far on cloud nine to hear them. Of course, she took it to heart. They loved Quinn, so why couldn’t they love Leo the same? 

The Hughes boys clarified their view on her relationship from the start. Not because they were haters or didn’t like seeing their friend happy, but because Quinn’s glares burned holes. Jack and Luke simply hated him because he spoke shit about hockey, almost on purpose the moment he found out the four of them were close, and because he seemed to irritate their big brother. Quinn refrained from gagging every time he saw the couple together at school, a pang in his chest stabbing him always. But she was happy, and that’s the part that stung the most.

Her brother ignored him on the rare occasion he came over. He was a huge Quinn guy, and having anyone but him in his house felt wrong. Like a parasite invasion trying to take his sister away, he wouldn’t let her ride home with the boys in his thirteen-year-old mind, Leo always insisted they hung out after school. The first time Leo came over for dinner, her brother ensured he displayed all the photographs of the Hughes family and his family together, especially the ones of y/n and Quinn. On another occasion he watched a movie with them, just to be annoying. Leo had tried to get y/n alone in the kitchen, hands on her hips and drawing her close, speaking sweet nothings into her lips and finding the panic in her face adorable. Their lips almost connecting, skin burning like wildfire until three, rubber pucks slammed into the targets that hung on the net in the garden, her brother standing proudly with his hockey stick in hand and side-eyeing the kitchen window, giving y/n time to catch her breath and gather her mind before the blond in front of her swore loudly.

What was everyone’s problem? Why wouldn’t they be happy for her? She was in love, a guy loved her for the first time in her life and she wasn’t even allowed to have that. Well, at least Quinn would be happy, and maybe she could convince him at least to let him join the lake house. Or she hoped. 

Quinn gathered the pucks out the back of the net, collecting them into a pile, the wrinkles between his eyebrows prominent. Y/n stood to the side, hands in her hoodie pocket, presenting her best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“No,” he said, shooting a puck into the net.

“Oh come on, Q!”, she whined, “It’s a chance to get to know him, he’s a good guy. Please, for meee?”

He stood straight, turning to face her, “Y/n, I love you and I’d do anything for you, but the answer is still no. There isn’t enough space and it’s my lake house, my summer too.” He hoped she’d give up and drop the subject. The idea of y/n and Leo sharing a bed soiled his mood as it was, he didn’t want the thoughts to develop further into what else they could do. If Leo joined, he’d be alone, he wouldn’t wake up with her at least once, she wouldn’t even look at him and his brothers would never forgive him. Everyone’s summer would be ruined.

She sighed in defeat, “He’s the first guy to ever love me, see me for who I am and everyone acts like he’s got the plague! Q, my dad gives him small talk, my dad!”

He stared, a burning stare that ignited goosebumps along her skin, the hairs on end. They’d looked into each other eyes before, but she’d never seen this kind of fire in him. His breathing deepened, chest rising and falling as trying to calm himself down, nostrils slightly flaring. 

“Is that so?” he cocked a brow, his tongue poking his cheek, “y/n, we’re happy for you, but we miss you. I miss you. I miss getting smoothies, I miss Star Wars marathons, shit, I miss watching you make a mess of my kitchen when Luke wants cookies.” He missed falling asleep with her, calling him at silly hours in the morning, organising his hockey cards together, seeing her wear his hoodies and jerseys, and hearing her laugh. 

Her face softened, absorbing his cries and guilt swirling in her stomach. She didn’t realise how his voice beat every song she’d ever listened to or how when he was hurting, his tone was soft-spoken. She forgot how much she loved that, and how no one - not even Leo - could replace it. 

“M’sorry, Q.” She hugged him, like usual. The tight embrace with her head in his chest, feeling his arms wind around her shoulders in return, nose finding solace in the crook of her neck and kissing her shoulder.

*

Leo never joined their summer. He was never part of it from the start. When y/n fell back into place with her friends and stopped bringing up Leo, so much relief washed over her daily. The mini-argument with Quinn had paid off because exactly a week before she and the Hughes planned to leave for Michigan Leo had bid his thank yous and goodbyes. She thanked him for nothing messy, but his last words (and reasoning) gripped her around the neck: ‘I don’t think I’m the one you love.’

The moment she stepped out of Ellen’s car, slightly delirious from sleeping on Quinn’s shoulder the whole way, her muscles relaxed. She barely got a chance to stretch before Trevor and Cole came bundling towards her, engulfing her into a group hug while Quinn took his usual duties of unloading the car. All the boys had grown over the winter, Luke grew taller far too quickly, Jack, Trevor and Cole’s voices had dropped and entered that awkward phase where it would break at random and Quinn’s shoulders broadened, his face chiselling out. Y/n felt like the only thing that had changed about herself was the growing number of insecurities. She was at a lake, meaning she had to wear the bikinis she’d spent hours picking out, completely forgetting that Quinn wasn’t the only guy around. What if they didn’t look as good as she thought? What if they were far from flattering? Things she shouldn’t let eat at her but always would linger at the back of her mind. 

*

She lay awake, facing the ceiling listening to Trevor’s snoring from the bed for the second year, but it was worse now his voice was deeper. How Cole slept so soundly was a mystery in itself. At least the weather was silent. Yet her mind could not quiet, the events of the week replaying like a tape, glitching on the last few moments and repeating Leo’s words. With a weight in her chest, tears welled in her eyes. She felt so alone and abandoned in a room with an overwhelming teenage presence. She threw the duvet off, shuffling off the mattress, padding out the door and sneaking down the hall.

Quinn’s door opened enough for her to slip into the room and tiptoed over to his bed, crawling under his covers next to him. His hair had gotten longer, messier and the more she looked at it the harder it was to keep her hands to herself. His cheeks weren’t so full anymore, but the back of her fingers still caressed his cheekbone with a feathery touch. Her smile faded, she hadn’t told him about the break-up, she was supposed to tell her best friend everything and she couldn’t even do that, no wonder Quinn hadn’t spoken much to her. He was in the dark and it was all her fault. But he didn’t ask about him. Maybe he was upset because she hadn’t told him? No, Quinn wasn’t like that, was he? Was he upset?

“Trevor’s snoring?” he mumbled, eyes remaining closed. He heard his door click and felt his mattress dip and nobody else would risk waking him. 

“Mhm,” she hummed, watching his eyes lazily open, “part of it.”

He rolled over, pulling her onto his chest and arms around her waist, “I got you.” 

Her tears soaked blotches into his t-shirt, little sobs slightly muffled by the fabric as his hand stroked her back slowly. He held her close, letting her cry whatever consumed her out of her system while reassuring her that everything was going to be okay in his gentle manner. He wasn’t entirely sure what was so troubling but he had a keen suspicion it had something to do with Leo, she hadn’t mentioned him for a while and a large part of him was fuelled with adrenaline and hope that he was out of the picture for good. It lit fireworks inside him, and he wasn’t ashamed about it. 

“He dumped me, Q,” she sobbed, fingers balling his shirt into fists, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Those fireworks inside him burst an array of colours, “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he said softly, “did he give you a reason at least?”

Her lip quivered, “He…he said he thinks that he’s not the one I love. I don’t know what that means! This sucks, Q. Sucks going from spending a lot of time with someone, having their full attention to just…not. Makes me gag every time I see my friends with their partners. I feel so…isolated, what do I do now?” 

Quinn’s lips fell into a straight line, hand still soothing her back. He knew he shouldn’t have been over the moon at the news, but God did he want to dance around his room and punch the air, maybe click his heels for good measure, “You want my opinion?”

He felt her nod, “You still have friends, and you need them more than a boyfriend. Have you thought about him since?” she shook her head, “Then there’s your answer. You miss the feeling, not the person. There’s someone out there who’s gonna love you tirelessly, treat you right and always come when you call. We’re only sixteen, we’ve got time.”

She thought about Leo, properly. She thought about how he spoke to people, and looking back she kicked herself for how she was too swept up in the feeling to realise how his charm was too enticing. She remembered the time he met Quinn, Jack and Luke for the first time, well Jack and Luke. He’d found out about their passion for hockey and openly shared how he thought it was ridiculous and an overrated sport, that all the players were mediocre at most. He told Jack he’d never make it to the NHL because it’s the sort of dream that stays a dream. Leo off the bat despised Quinn, calling him an obsessive creep when he walked into her house to retrieve Jim’s lasagna dish from her dad. Quinn ignored it, but Leo had seen all the photographs her brother put out, and proceeded to rant about how Quinn was just trying to add her to his body count. Quinn heard that, of course, he was only in the kitchen and if he was honest, he was flattered that Leo assumed he even had a body count. Then the kitchen incident flooded back like the rapids ride at a theme park. If her brother hadn’t interrupted them, she would’ve been kissed, but she didn’t want to kiss him and she knew that he enjoyed the fear in her eyes when his grip tightened. 

“Can I ask you something…” she peered up at him.

“Anything.” he looked down at her, voice just above a whisper. Her eyes had a glossy shine to them, even if they were red and puffy from crying, he still got lost in them.

“Can you say ‘princess’, for me?” 

He raised his eyebrow, but smiled anyway, “Whatever you want, princess.”

“Fucking hell it sounds so much better when you say it,” she groaned, burying her face into his chest, earning a chuckle from Quinn. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, too well like it was made for him. The worst part was the tingling sensation in her stomach which wound through her heartstrings. All despair was eliminated and, once again, Quinn had pulled her into his rip. They lay in silence for a little while, but neither drifted off to sleep, just lying in each other's company.

“He almost kissed me, Q.” she mumbled into the dark, Quinn’s green eye disturbing his peace, “but I didn’t want to kiss him, the vibe was off. And then my friends bugged me about it.”

She pushed herself onto her elbow, propping herself up and gazing into his sleepy eyes. His palms fell to the small of her back.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” an innocent question turned sultry by his brain, heat shooting to his neck.

“No,” his gaze fell to her lips, “have you?”

She denied it. One had cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip. She melted into his touch, heart pulsing in her ears. Deja vu burst into the room from a year before, where the last time she hovered above him she wanted to kiss him more than she should have. He parted his lips, the teenage boy inside him begging to peek down her shirt and his desperate longing to taste her colliding and dizzying his mind. Their bodies gravitated closer like a magnetic force neither could control anymore until their lips touched and two souls intertwined sweetly. It was an innocent kiss, aside from the accidental bumping of teeth, it wasn’t quite a peck but they relished in each other for no more than five seconds before pulling away with ease again.

“Can we do that again?” she didn’t need to say anything. She kissed him again, harder, longer, her hand sliding from his chest to his jaw as their lips fell into a pattern of connecting and reconnecting, elation surging through them as they fumbled into giggles. Quinn’s problem with kissing her was that no matter how much he tried to push it down, the craving to kiss her again clawed at him. All it took was a pretty smile and he could kiss her the rest of the night. Y/n’s friends bragged about their first kisses, who they were with and where it happened, but she held the crown for the first kiss in a boy’s bed and a meaningful kiss as the cherry on top.

*

Michigan’s sun roasted hotter than in Toronto, but it was a pleasant change from freezing all the time. The kind of heat that the boat’s seats would cling onto, and give you the worst shock of your life when sitting down, so when you sat down on the leather, you stayed down with sizzling skin. Although he’d been to the lake his whole life, Jack’s soul still left his body every time he threw himself onto the seats, usually blaming Quinn for not warning him. She was introduced to their boat last year, expecting only a small, fishing boat-like thing but to say her eyes grew so wide they almost popped out her head would be an understatement. She had limited knowledge of boats but her dad fished a lot so she picked up odd things from his raving, but the only way she could describe it was a traditional bowrider, with u-shaped seats in the back deck and bow seating. 

Jack and Luke had shoved past everyone and B-lined for the docks as soon as breakfast was over, Trevor and Cole not far behind and bundled onto the back seats of the boat. The driver’s seat was always left empty for Quinn, and the seat on the left side of the aisle next to the driver’s was always for y/n, furthest from the splash zone so she could read in peace. Unfortunately for Quinn and y/n, that also meant they were the ones lugging the cooler of water bottles through the garden and to the docks, handing it to Jack and Trevor while Quinn hopped in, holding his hand out to her and letting her make her way to her seat. 

A couple of hours being anchored in the lake, Jack and Trevor had three backflip contests, teaching Luke ‘how it’s done’ and Cole had won himself one hell of a sunburn. Y/n hadn’t taken her shirt off once, occupying herself by applying suncream to Quinn’s face and judging the backflip rounds. She mindlessly watched the four boys tussle around, pulling and pushing each other off the boat and playing in the cool waters. Something about this summer brought a yearning for adventure, maybe due to her age, to make memories or to distract herself from the sinful thoughts of what Quinn now looked like underneath his t-shirt. 

“I know you want to,” her head snapped to face Quinn, his voice dragging her out of her head, “I can see it in your eyes.”

She hugged her torso tighter, diverting her gaze to their feet. Was the first time wearing a bikini this terrifying for everyone? Maybe she should’ve started wearing them sooner. She’d be used to it by now.

“I’m not saying you have to, but,” he gulped, taking a deep breath. His next words could either earn him a smile or a slap, “I think you’re beautiful just as you are. And whatever those fuckers think doesn’t matter. Remember that you’re like a sister to Jack and Luke, they’ve got your back too.” 

A wide smile broke onto her face. Anyone else could say that and she wouldn't have batted an eye, but when it fell from his mouth like a song, the pressure was exiled from her body. Her fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Quinn’s view darted straight to her chest, the bikini top complimenting her nicely, but too well for anyone but him to see (or so he thought). He didn’t think twice about it, it felt pervy and wrong, but at the end of the day, he was just a teenage boy riddled with fluctuating hormones. At least he wasn’t as bad or proud as Trevor, that was the bar. The top was enough. She kept the little board shorts on. Maybe next year she’d be braver. 

“Your turn,” with a cheeky glint in her eyes, she leant forward, elbows on her knees and purposely pushing her breasts together. Caught red-handed, in the act, Quinn Hughes. His cheeks burned red, glancing at his brothers and friends (who were on backflip contest number four) and back at her, slipping his shirt off. She raised her eyebrows when he said he’d been working out more, he meant it. When their gazes met, they both knew that if they had been alone with all the pent-up thrill, they would’ve jumped for each other, let their hands dance, feeling every new curve and dip and melt into each other like wax, moulding to however they wanted. 

“Not too bad yourself-” Before she could finish, Jack rolled onto the boat from the back deck with a clumsy urgency, throwing his towel over himself and standing in a wide stance, panting as if throwing himself onto the boat took all his energy.

“Thanks dearest,” pant, “big brother of mine and,” pant, “his girlfriend. Wakeboard!”

Quinn and y/n burst into fits of giggles at the assistance but it fell on deaf ears, watching him clamber in was funnier anyway, especially since the other three people who could have helped decided to watch and laugh too. No one denied the second part of his sentence, it certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed, but it had been taken two ways.

*

When the boys were little, Jim and Ellen had reformed the basement into a games room. It had originally been decked out into more of a guest house, with a kitchenette directly under the stairs and opposite were the large patio doors. But they found more use for it with the boys. On the left side of the doors was a c-shape sectional sofa and a TV and to the right a fireplace with a scoreboard for the pool table, which sat in the centre of the room. The bathroom remained in the back right corner. Most of the time, it was only used for video games and pool, as the distance from the bedrooms meant their screaming and arguing was pleasantly muffled but as more people joined their holiday, more friends were made either at the lake or with hockey people who owned a house on the lake, the room got its fair share of usage and everything was sound.

Until the Tkachuk brothers arrived.

Matthew and Brady were Quinn’s friends, Brady being one of his best and knowing Matthew by default. The Tkachuk’s had recently bought a house on the lake, within walking distance of the Hughes but you could hear them before you’d see them. Y/n had first met Brady when Quinn picked him up from his dock one afternoon, and she had no trouble getting to know him, especially when it came to him showing her photos of all of Quinn’s embarrassing moments from before her era at the lake house, and ones during hockey camps. She understood why Quinn got shy when Brady doxxed him like that, but she found it cute either way and he just enjoyed his two best friends getting along.

The seven of them - Y/n, Quinn, Brady, Cole, Trevor, Jack and Luke - sat in a circle, in that order, on the floor, leaning against the sofa, a bottle of vodka and red solo cups between them. The four youngest sat with stars in their eyes, like Brady had bought a mythical creature over, y/n and Quinn exchanged quizzing looks, shrugging.

“Yeah, how did you get this?” y/n asked, picking the bottle up and inspecting the alcohol percentage. 

“Matt,” Brady smirked, pride smeared across his face, “one of his friends has a fake ID, and said he’d get me a bottle if I helped him get this chick’s number.”

“And it worked?” Quinn mocked, Jack, Cole and Trevor did their best to hide their giggles.

“Nobody can resist a Tkachuk,” he peered past Quinn to look at y/n, “it’s the pretty eyes and dashing looks, right y/n?” 

Jack and Luke side-eyed each other, holding back their laughter at Quinn’s pout. Y/n shrugged, giving boys satisfaction wasn’t something she enjoyed, and seeing Brady dramatically hold his hand to his heart and act offended seemed to lighten Quinn’s mood. 

“Can we crack this baby open now? I wanna get drunk!” Trevor cheered, Jack and Cole joining him. Something like that would be exciting for fifteen-year-olds, but (not so) little Luke stayed quiet, shrinking into himself next to y/n. She placed an arm around his shoulder, presenting him with a warm, reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, no one’s gonna force you,” she murmured.

“Come on, Lukey! Don’t be a pussy!” Jack taunted as Brady poured him, Cole and Trevor a small amount. Cole took his sip first, his face screwing up immediately and coughing at the burning down his throat. Trevor cackled, tapping his cup with Jack’s and they both swallowed theirs together. Like karma, Trevor wheezed and held his chest, face scrunching amusingly at the kick. Jack didn’t get off lightly either, his throat feeling like fire and he shook his head, putting his cup on the floor. The rest laughed, hard. The three musketeers were so confident just to have it backfire. 

Brady poured vodka into his, Quinn’s and her cups, grinning from ear to ear and placing the bottle back between them all.

Cup in hand, she nudged Luke, “Do you want a small sip?” 

He hesitantly nodded, taking the cup gently and letting a tiny drop cover his tastebuds. That was enough for him to jolt back and shake his head. The three eldest bumped cups and swallowed the alcohol in one go, Brady cheering like he’d won the Stanley Cup, Quinn doing his best to suppress the sour expression on his face and y/n exhaled at the flare descending her throat. She and Quinn side-eyed each other, stifling giggles. The rush brought back the rendezvous of her sixteenth birthday where her parents had treated her to a bottle of vodka, specifically instructing she only drink it around them. Hours later when her close friends arrived, and Quinn of course, that bottle and a carton of orange juice was shared between them and drank dry, her bedroom swarming with drunk teenagers hiding hangovers in the morning.  

“Wow, my first ever drink turned out to be…actually not as pleasant as I imagined.” Brady’s eyebrows raised, watching the three musketeers urgently agree with him. Quinn and y/n’s grins widened, and they fist-bumped. They’d finally discovered something they had done before Brady. He’d relentlessly teased Quinn with his experiences as he was older, but it was due to Matthew being older. Now, it was Quinn’s turn, he was finally the cool, older brother. 

“That was your first?” Quinn teased. Brady blinked twice, opening his mouth to speak but closing it, holding his fist out to Quinn instead. 

“You didn’t add a mixer, it’s more bearable with juice,”  she stood up and grabbed an orange juice from the fridge. Sitting back in her spot, she took Brady’s cup, poured a little vodka and topped it with the juice, stirring it with her finger, “now try.”

He took a sip, the orange juice slightly outweighing the alcohol and it didn’t tear through him this time, “Okay, you’re invited to every party from now on. Dudes, you gotta try this.” 

One empty bottle later the group found themselves slumped back and blurry-eyed. Luke had gone to bed, terrified of the consequences if he were still there in the morning. Quinn and y/n leant into each other, Jack’s head resting on her lap. Brady’s ass went numb from sitting on the floor, but he feared that if he stood up, he’d just meet the floor again but with a bruise when he woke up. 

At some point in that hour, Trevor suggested truth or dare, and being too tipsy to argue, they’d all been roped into it. The dares hadn’t been too bad, but as Brady slowly gathered his senses, previous conversations and events flooded back to his active memory. With his sights landing on Quinn and y/n, it was like his and Trevor’s minds intertwined. Calm and collected Quinn had been giggling at others too much throughout the night. Calm and collected Quinn who never seemed to be fazed by embarrassment for too long. 

“Jack, truth or dare?” Trevor asked absently. 

“Truth.”

“Ass or tits?” 

Y/n ran her fingers through Jack’s hair and rolled her eyes. Boys. 

“Easy. Tits. Next. Brady, truth or dare?” Jack’s eyes closed, body relaxing when her nails scratched his scalp.

Brady snorted, “Hah, dare!”

Jack paused, thinking about what kind of dare Brady would come up with, “skinny dip in the lake.”

“Dude, if I stand up, I’ll fall. I’ll do it next time we’re on the boat, swear it.” They chuckled, watching his head shake desperately. Nobody would have to dare Brady to do something like that, you could just suggest the idea and he’d be down for the sake of a story. Matthew had shared many stories of his adventures when he was his age, and Brady was determined to be as cool as him and live a wild life like every day was his last day on Earth. “Y/n, truth or dare?”

“Dare, fuck it. Be nice.” Her heart raced, the words falling out before she could think.

“I dare you to sit on Quinn’s lap for the rest of the game.” 

Quinn’s muscles tensed, cheeks flushing when Jack sat up. He uncrossed his legs and let her manoeuvre herself onto his thigh, curling up comfortably. Without much thought, his arms winded around her waist, holding her close. Even though he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, a small part of him sobered up enough to appreciate the buzz of openly holding her.

“Cole, truth or dare?” she watched Cole perk up, his eyes absent like he’d just woken up. 

“Show us a pic from your ‘my eyes only’ on Snap.”

“Favourite porn category?”

“Who was the better kisser, Jess or Sarah?”

“Okay Quinner,” Brady’s turn circled back, rubbing his, nonexistent, beard as he spoke, “Who do you currently have a crush on?”

Quinn’s stomach dropped. If he didn’t like Brady so much, he would’ve taken the question as a betrayal. When he told Brady about his and y/n’s bedtime kiss, it was out of confidence, with his full chest, at his most vulnerable. Never did he expect him to reference it in public, in front of her and his brother’s friends. He then realised that Matthew also, most likely, knew. 

“Gone shy?” the youngest Tkachuk smirked, the other boys suddenly sparking back to life and leaning in.

“No, just never thought you’d be into gossip,” he mumbled, giving the blond a cold glare. If his situation couldn’t have gotten any worse, y/n shifted dangerously close to his crotch and all he could do was keep her encased into him and pray his shorts wouldn’t betray him like his best friend had. 

“If you’re into gossip now, what about you? Tell us which girl at your school has your eye, describe her, what’s she like?” y/n blurted. It was like she read Quinn’s mind. Or the stress in his face. 

Cole, Trevor and Jack’s heads whipped between the three bicker, smiles dopey and rubbing their hands together.

“Deflecting? Didn’t think you’d get so defensive-”

“-Not getting defensive, I have nothing to defend, but if Quinn doesn’t wanna answer, he doesn’t have to.” 

It was a relief that it was just bickering and not a deep argument, God help them all if y/n and Brady ever fell out properly, his ability to chirp and her intelligent stubbornness would not be a tornado to interrupt. But her protectiveness squeezed his heart, making the situation he was always in dreadful. 

“Oh really?” Brady laughed, “What about you since you have nothing to defend? Who juices your lemons? Or is Quinner gonna grow a pair and admi-”

What an uncomfortable phrase to start with, and if she took too long to answer he’d just taunt her more. She wanted him to drop the subject overall, it didn’t matter, but humbling him would, at least, cheer Quinn up slightly, even if what she was about to say required a conversation afterwards.

“-Matthew Tkachuk.” The name shot out like a bullet through Brady. His jaw dropped and a smirk wiped off his face. He knew his brother was popular, but never had he met someone his age admit it to his face. He sat back, speechless. Her heart thundered, Quinn could feel it, see the panic in her eyes while Brady saw a threat. Jack, Trevor and Cole sat like deers in headlights in the silence which engulfed the room. Quinn’s grip around her waist tightened, his brows creasing but Brady watched the light in his eyes sink and his hold on her become desperate like she would slip away if he let go. 

The thick atmosphere collapsed when Jack shot up and bolted for the bathroom, Cole hot on his tail, “I think I’m gonna puke.” 

Quinn’s limbs sank deep into the sofa cushions, but his eyes stared at the plant next to the TV.  Jack’s stomach giving up surprisingly saved their friendships and shortly they’d decided it was time to call it a day, himself, y/n and Trevor taking the sofa, Jack crashing closest to the bathroom and Brady and Cole sprawled out on the floor. Even after the drunken result of a stupid truth game, y/n’s back was still pressed against his chest. Not Matthew’s. His arm was around her middle, his face was in her hair, and he was the one cuddling her. No one else, but the thoughts still spiralled. If she did like Matthew and not him, could he be that angry? Matthew was older, taller, better looking (Brady had mentioned how Tkachuk’s had ‘dashing good looks’ so what could he expect) and far more experience. Had she even met Matthew? When? Was she seeing him secretly? What if she was trying all these new experiences with him just to impress Matthew, getting in practice so, when she was to kiss him she wouldn’t embarrass herself, cuddling him so she knew what to do? The possibility that she was as affectionate with a guy other than himself made him sick to his stomach, it was like Leo all over again but worse. They were older now, progressed more and feelings devoured instead of nibbled, whirlpools instead of ripples. There were plenty of other boys besides himself, and maybe having a guy best friend became convenient for her. 

With a tear slithering down his cheek, he buried his face into her shoulder and planted a sweet, but sad, chaste kiss on her jaw, fighting off the urge to sob until he fell asleep. 

Seventeen was a big age for prime-time adolescents, not quite an adult but not a little kid anymore. Risk and rebellion went hand in hand and doing everything you were told not to do was in fashion, so when you went to college you didn’t look like a complete bore. It also meant relationships started getting serious, people considering college and the survival rate of long distance, who had broken up and who was still together. 

After last summer, Quinn and y/n breathed Toronto air and they fell back into place, as if the Vodka Incident, as they called it, had never happened. Quinn had all her attention again and spent the autumn and winter doing his best to keep it that way. It didn’t take a lot, she loved everything they did together, her new favourite memory being when Quinn took her to her first Maple Leafs game once he’d passed his driver’s license. He also kissed her in the car afterwards, slow with his hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing the denim on her jeans. When they got back to her house, he had her pushed down into her bed, lips smothering her neck in timid, wet kisses while her cold hands snuck under his shirt, sending chills up his spine in the most pleasurable sense. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing, but his secure grip on her hips had her writhing beneath him when he’d found her sweet spot on her neck, experimenting with a nip to the flesh and almost cumming his boxers at the mewl that slipped past her lips. Their hips rolled and ground into each other with hands tugging on shirts, exposed collarbones and sloppy kisses to sensitive spots. They hadn’t even properly made out yet and there they were, exploring each other like territory and right before any clothes could be removed, Ellen rang him. It was an evening neither would forget.

*

“I’m tellin’ you, dude, they are not ‘just friends’, look at ‘em.” Trevor gestured in front of him, raising his voice over the music. 

“Trev, I’ve known them my whole life, they’ve always been like this.” Jack groaned, taking a sip from his Coke. 

Under the strings of fairy lights hung over the audience and the weather warm and clear, Quinn twirled y/n, hugging her from behind as they sang the lyrics to the country song coming from the stage. When Luke saw the ad in the supermarket one afternoon, he practically begged his parents to take them all, and being unable to say ‘no’ to their youngest child, they agreed. 

Luke and Cole had a blast, trying every food stall they saw, rocking the cowboy hats and singing their hearts out. It was safe to say that Luke still had a lot of personality, and Cole revealed his love for karaoke. Y/n hadn’t been to many concerts before, the overwhelming crowds caging and the fear that she’d get split up was astronomical. As they’d made their way around, wrangling up Luke and Cole, hurling Trevor and Jack away from groups of girls way older than them, she had her arm looped around Quinn’s. Ellen ran around as their paparazzi, no doubt planning to print all the photos off and stick them in an album. 

“Are you hearing yourself, Jizzy?” Trevor deadpanned, as much as the god-awful nickname amused him, Jack’s slow-functioning brain at the moment matched the stupidity of it. 

Quinn’s arms around her waist, chin resting on her head and they swayed to the tune of the song, bright smiles and oblivion to the world around them. It was just them, imagining the lyrics were for and about them, speaking to each other so they didn’t have to muster up the courage themselves. 

“Yeah. Look, man, think whatever you want, the Tkachuks get here next week, and if I remember correctly, Matthew was a pretty hot topic last summer.” Jack couldn’t lie, he didn’t remember a lot from the Vodka Incident. He only remembered Brady’s brutal truths, y/n admitting Matthew was hot and waking up with a sore head with the taste of vomit and vodka in his mouth. He also remembered watching the tears fall on his brother’s cheek. 

*

She didn’t want to believe that she was the person looking back at her in the mirror. She pulled at the straps and readjusted the ties and bikini bottoms, to see if they would flatter her better in a new position. She spun slightly, viewing the back and chewed her cheek. Did her ass look good? The top wasn’t too slutty…was it? Too much cleavage? Not enough? Why was trying to feel hot such hard work? She threw her head back and sighed, circling her thoughts back to last summer.

I think you’re beautiful just as you are.

Shaking her shoulders, she slipped her tank top and shorts on, grabbed her towel and left out the porch doors. 

Beads of sweat rolled down the back of Quinn’s neck. He didn’t need to look behind him to know Jack had invited neighbouring girls onto the boat, he could hear them giggling. He zoned out, staring at next door’s deck deaf to the world around him. Was shaving the right choice that morning? What if y/n liked his growing, patchy beard? But what if she preferred clean-shaven? He watched the girls in the windshield’s reflection squeeze the boy’s biceps, complimenting their abs. They adored Luke’s cute face and charming smile. It sucked being thirteen and enchanted. Quinn kept his shirt on, he wasn’t built like the others, and his confidence surely didn’t need dismantling. His fingers tapped the steering wheel, lips pursing until he caught y/n running out the corner of his eyes, his lips perking into a smile as she sat in her seat next to him.

“Who are they?” she whispered, leaning over, his New York Yankees hat perched on her head. He only shrugged, starting the engine and pulling away from the docks. “Well, I guess it means we get peace, at least.”

So much for peace.

Mila, the brunette in the pink bikini, saw exactly what y/n saw. The way Quinn’s hand held the wheel, casually yet so controlled, imagining them grabbing and moulding her like putty. The veins that popped on his arms, perhaps even his thighs, but y/n refused to believe that anyone else was looking at his thighs the way she did; unapologetically hungrily. She leaned against the back of his seat, pushing her breasts up as much as she could into the top of his shoulders, taking a longer strand of his hair and curling it around her finger. 

“It’s so cool how you can drive this thing without an adult, when did you get your licence?” she asked. Quinn kept his eyes on the waters, lips falling into a deep frown.

“Fourteen, y/n also has one.” 

“Oh,” she tilted her head, “cute. So, do you live here or is this a one-time thing?”

Y/n squinted. She knew she shouldn’t have let it get under her skin. She knew she couldn’t control everything but was seething would be an understatement. Some random chick, putting her tits up against Quinn, touching him the way she does. If she could just trip and accidentally knock her overboard she would. 

“Live here in the summer.” His tone was flat, not anywhere near interested and his t-shirt clung to his back. A smile spread across Mila’s cheeks, she and her friends were only at the lake for the week and proudly admitted they were on the prowl for some fun. She arched her back, popping her ass out, hoping he could feel her skin on the back of his neck. Y/n huffed, letting her demons get the better of her and she tugged her tank top over her head and wiggled out the denim shorts. This summer the board shorts stayed at the house. 

He choked when he saw. His first time seeing her in almost nothing. He was used to tank tops hugging her tits and little shorts, but seeing so much bare skin now changed a lot. The benchmark was removing her shirt, and now he got the full thing, in front of his face, within his reach and confidently like she wanted his attention and his only. She’d spent years worrying about what others thought about her, and with a little threat, the only thing she now cared about was making Quinn fumble over his words and remind him whom he pinned against her bed before summer. 

“Mila, you look a little squished there,” y/n stood up, “take my seat, Jack doesn’t bite, promise.”

“But then where will you sit?” 

Y/n stepped over to Quinn and gave him a wink. He leant back, heart exploding when she sat on his lap, bare skins touching for the first time and the pit of his stomach surging hot, the fireworks re-lighting and tingling over his skin and to his muscles, lips immediately spreading into a grin. He tucked his arm around her waist, settling his hand on her hip, fingers hooking the waistband in the leg hole of her bikini bottoms. Mila’s eyes scanned her, receiving her message clearly before plonking herself next to Jack, who happily gave her the attention she wanted. Y/n wrapped her arm around his neck.

“No shorts?” he murmured into her ear, voice low and rumbly.

“Remembered what you said a year ago, and I think you’re also beautiful just the way you are.” She toyed with the collar of his t-shirt.

“You should sit here more often.”

“Maybe I will, Captain Q.”

They giggled quietly, foreheads touching lightly and he kissed her hairline playfully while the backseat passengers caused havoc with the wakeboard, begging Quinn to let them show off their ‘skills’.  

In four days the Tkachuks would arrive. That’s what kept Quinn up at night. He had four days to muster up his courage before she’d slip through his fingers to the better man.

*

They watched the ball fly far, Jim standing proud with his arms folded in a wide stance, as dads do. Trevor high-fived Cole, throwing up an ‘L’ shape with his fingers at Jack. The middle Hughes puffed his chest out, placed his ball on the tee and positioned himself, re-gripping the club. He drew back and swung, watching his golf ball fly out into the distance. Y/n watched from the side, recording their turns for them like they’d asked, a smile on her face. Jim took them to the driving range after Jack complained that video games were becoming boring, and neither Trevor nor Cole had been to one before, and when four boys were bursting with energy, how could Jim say turn down such an opportunity? 

Y/n hadn’t played properly before either. Quinn had only taken her to crazy golf, and that was as far as her experience went. None of this correct positioning and firm swings. Though it was comforting watching Cole and Trevor not have a clue either, Trevor was a fast and eager learner, and Cole was just bad but there for a good time.

“I can show you how to do it if you want.” Quinn stood next to her, leaning down slightly with a low voice. When did he get so tall? She tilted her head up, the club in his hand sent her back to her childhood, the exact day she sat on the step with Quinn holding a hockey stick out to her. “It's your summer too.” 

She nodded and Quinn hooked his little finger with hers, leading her to the grass and placed a ball on the tee. She copied Jack’s stance, letting Quinn stand behind her, chest to her back as his arms engulfed her, hands over hers on the club.

“Draw back like this,” his breath hot on her neck as he drove the club back, “and then you swing. Just like we do. Yeah?” 

Her stomach fluttered, concentration droning in more on his voice vibrating through his chest. She nodded, licking her lips and the caged animal inside her chewing at its bars.

“Good girl.” He stepped back, letting her go. With his eyes glued to her figure, he watched her body take a breath, drawing back and taking a decent swing. For a first go, it wasn't a bad swing, not perfect but good enough that Trevor groaned about how unfair it was (he missed the ball the first time). 

“This is literally the first day we met all over again,” Luke said to his dad, who raised his eyebrows, more shocked that he remembered that day since he couldn't even remember his birthday half the year. 

The group next to them left, but the gap was soon replaced by a new one, a louder one consisting of late teens. One of them didn't stop walking, the blond one with curls and a mullet, and pretty eyes on par with Jack's. 

“Quinner! Jim! Fancy seeing you here.” Matthew Tkachuk, Brady's suave, crazy older brother and his posse who stood just as awkward as the Hughes and co.

Y/n shuffled to stand with Quinn, pressing into his side ever so gently. He placed his hand on the small of her back, smile fading into a frown while his dad chatted and brothers and friends continued their practice.

“Is that Matthew?” Quinn couldn't begin to describe the electricity that flowed through his veins upon hearing that she didn’t know who he was. However while part of him jumped with joy, the other part spiralled further and pressure added to his shoulders. There was absolutely nothing to stop Matthew, or his cooler, older friends from snatching her, and him, weak, little Quinn, trying to keep her in his rip was laughable. If it wasn’t Matthew (unknowingly) getting daggers, it was his friend in the back. The athletic one eyeing y/n shamelessly, nudging the blond in a cap next to him. 

“Anyway, nice bumping into you. See you fellas, Quinner,” He shot her a wink, “y/n.” 

Her face flushed warm, and she gave him a flirty wave before they disappeared into the office. Jim ushered his boys and friends out, Quinn remaining silent when he drove himself and y/n to the house, not even her hand on his thigh could cut through the thick atmosphere. 

The rest of that afternoon Quinn shut himself in his room, undisturbed. His family huddled around the campfire, making s'mores and the boys sharing their day with Ellen. Y/n prodded at the fire, adding more wood and sat back in her chair, glancing up at Quinn’s bedroom window. The light was out, blind and curtains drawn, fiddling with the drawstrings of her shorts. She didn't feel like eating any more s’mores, she lost her appetite with the empty seat next to her and overbearing twisting in her gut. The Tkachuk’s voices echoed from houses away, and she never thought she’d dread hearing their laughter until then. 

She didn't knock on Quinn’s door. She just let herself in, joining him in the sheets and laying on her back. His breathing was heavy, he opened his eyes and rolled onto his back.

“What’s up? You haven't said anything since we left the driving range.” She mumbled.

“Nothing.” Her head turned to look at him, unimpressed. Feeling the shift, he peered over his shoulder before rolling his eyes, “Didn't like how he looked at you.” 

He faced her, scowl softening, noses painfully close. His eyes fell to her lips, hand cupping her jaw and glazing his thumb over her soft skin. The twisting in her gut dissolved into heat pooling in her stomach, desire rising with every stroke of his thumb. 

“And how did he look at me, Q?” She rolled onto her side, rubbing her foot along his leg.

His breath shuddered, and his voice dropped to a rasp, “Like he wanted to devour you.” 

Shimmying closer, her hand pushed against his shoulder to lay flat on his back again. His hand never left her jaw, their lips closed in, ghosting each other as she propped herself up on her elbow. Getting jealous over a look, the way Quinn himself looked at her when she pranced around in her bikinis, hooded eyes and a lazy smile. 

“So, the way you look at me, Quinn?” Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” His voice above a whisper, laced with nothing but provocation for someone to do something, for he couldn't take the aching in his cock forever. “I won't do anything you don't want me to…what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to devour me.” She whispered into his mouth, his lips hitting hers with force, pulling her body on top of his and another hand, slipping up her shirt and exploring the curve of her spine. A low moan emitted from her throat, his tongue running along her bottom lip and impatiently tasting the sweet melted marshmallows from the s'mores when she granted him access. It was embarrassing how lost she was; taking a backseat wasn’t in her system, but something about Quinn's tongue dominating and lapping at hers just made her seams burst and soak her panties then and there. It didn't matter how he knew what to do, or if he was just going with his instincts, the way his hands kneaded her flesh like dough drew whimpers from her throat and with a carnal desire racking her bones, she rolled her hips into his, paying extra attention to his cock stiffening in his shorts as it bumped her cunt.

“Don't stop,” he groaned, hands gripping the globes of her ass, “feels s'good.” 

He kissed her again, bucking his hips up into her. Her hands slid to the hem of his shirt, tugging the bottom up. Quinn hesitated but sat up, keeping her settled on his lap but hastily pulling the clothing over his head. It was like all the insecurity of not being hot enough washed away with the way she was dry humping, aching for his dick, finally alone for them to misbehave. 

She smoothed her hands over his chest, solid and defined, her fingers tracing over his collarbones and stomach as if he were a sculpture in a museum. Sure she'd seen him shirtless on the boat, but this was different. This was for her eyes only, she was allowed to touch and feel his skin and muscles contract and relax as she savoured every last drop of him. 

“Wow…” She muttered, the pad of her fingers joining his moles with an invisible line like a constellation.

“Don't say that, I'm not like Jack…or Trevor.” His gaze couldn’t meet hers. He didn't have a six-pack, a tiny waist or any sort of boyish charm to him. “Nothin’ special.”

She gripped his cheeks between her fingers, forcing him to stare into her eyes, “And yet here you are, in bed, with a girl who wants you to do disgusting things to her. You're special to me, shouldn't that be all that matters?”

Y/n let his face go, pulling her shirt over her head and discarding it somewhere across the room. She ran her hands down her chest, his eyes following as they travelled over her curves and to his hands. Taking them, she cupped his palms over her breasts.

“Take it off, Q,” She batted her eyelashes at him, his cheeks flushing, “I want you to touch me. What do you want?”

He slid his hands to her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra and watching with an intense and desperate stare as the underwear fell from her arms, tits bare and in his face and the clothing launched into the dark. They felt so soft in his palms, squishy and so soft. He rolled her nipples with his thumbs, watching her eyes shut and mouth part through his eyelashes. He couldn't wait to feel them against his chest finally. 

“I wanna be the first guy to know how you feel around his cock, how you taste. I wanna be the guy you see when you're all alone, fucking yourself. I wanna hear you scream my name.” He pulled her in again, kissing her rough and messy, his hands leaving no place on her skin untouched and groping at her tits until he had her whimpering for more. With a groan rumbling from his throat, he flipped them over, hovering over her face of lust. Her pussy throbbed, and when his fingers pulled the bow on her shorts loose, she swore she would have cum right there.

“Can I?

“Yes, please.”

“Please what? I need words, pretty girl.” A flash of confidence washed over him, and he wasn't sure where it came from but his best guess was his core.

“Please fuck me, Quinn,” She gasped, rubbing her thighs together, “Please be the first to fuck me. I need you.” 

Diving into the column of her neck, he trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her collarbones and the valley of her breasts, taking one into his mouth and rolling his tongue over the nub. His other hand groped and squeezed, pinching between his fingers while she mewled like a song to his ears. 

Releasing her with a ‘pop’, his kisses graced her hot flesh down her stomach and finished just above the waistband of her shorts. He gazed through his lashes, and sat on his heels, wiggling the shorts down and off her legs. He couldn't help but stare, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” his voice airy and in awe, tugging his shorts off and tossing them aside. “All mine.

“All yours,” she repeated, propping herself up on her elbows. “Have you ever fingered a girl?”

He shook his head, hooking his fingers around her panties and pulling them off, taking in the privilege of being the only one to see such a pretty sight before him.

“Only seen it in porn, the basics.” He positioned his fingers, middle and ring, just to prove it. She smiled, taking his wrist and guiding him to her folds, gliding his fingers between them until he got the hang of it. 

“That's it, now rub my clit, firm but gentle.” He followed, taking her advice and circling her clit, peering up at her for reassurance. He got it, he knew he was doing it right when she collapsed back into his mattress, whimpering. Moving to hover over her, fingers gliding through her slick to the correct hole (he only knew from various conversations about the anatomy of a vagina she'd given, so he wouldn't look all that bad) and sliding one finger into her.

“You're so fucking wet,” He smirked. A quick learner, indeed and much too indulged in her spongy walls as he pumped his finger, “Princess, do I do this to you?”

“Yeah,” She moaned. His fingers felt so much better, more filling. “More, please.”

He added a second finger, drawing them in and out, curling, and he knew he was doing it right; she was writhing and whimpering beneath him, one hand fisting his sheets and the other locked on his bicep. His thumb nudged her clit on accident, but the way she arched and moaned had him circling it. She couldn't formulate a coherent sentence with the way he thrust his fingers into her, moving faster as she’d cried. Quinn still couldn't believe the position he was in. His naked best friend, underneath his almost naked body, with his fingers inside her pussy, hoping to make her cum and lose his virginity. All while his family sat outside without a clue. 

“Shit, like that-” she bucked her hips to match his pace, “So good, just like I dreamt, Quinn.”

“Oh yeah? You dream about…me?” He grumbled, his voice low.

“Yes!”

The knot inside her stomach tightened, her cunt clenching and swallowing his fingers like they were made for him. It had her wondering what else Quinn could do to her, how else he could make her cum, because the way his fingers curled as if he was summoning her climax was dizzying. Who knew that out of everyone, it would be Quinn making her squirm, Quinn's name slipping from her lips as his fingers stroked her walls and had her begging for more, Quinn causing her eyes to become half-lidded with a lazy and coquettish smile, plaguing her thoughts with dirty desires on how many other ways she could clench around him. 

“Gonna cum, Quinn,” She panted, squeezing her eyes closed.

“Anything you want, princess. Anything.” He pumped faster, her core relaxing and his fingers blessed with warmth leaking from her. He pulled his fingers out slowly, eyes locking with hers as he placed them on his tongue, tasting her flavour.

“You taste amazing,” He licked his fingers clean, a small spark of hope for the future inside him. “How was it? You okay?”

“I’m great,” She giggled, catching her breath, “With more practice, you’ll be a pro.”

He kissed her, y/n's tasting herself on his tongue, her hands in his hair, tugging at the curls on the nape of his neck. Something inside him screamed to stop before he became addicted, he needed her. He needed her in high dosages all the time, to feel her, to taste her, to have his tongue lap and suck hers and let their saliva intertwine like their bodies. He wanted to mark her up and call her a work of art. 

He pulled his boxers off and left kisses over her collarbones.

“Do you have a condom?” He did, actually. Only two that Brady had slipped him the day he told him about the first time they kissed. Quinn leant over and rummaged around his nightstand, y/n running her hands over his body, specifically grasping at his hips. Something about men's hips was so…sexy. She couldn't explain it and didn't need to because Quinn kneeled over her, erect cock on display and y/n, without thinking, gently took it into her palm. His hands trembled when she gave him a couple of strokes, in awe at what she was seeing. 

“You're so pretty, Q,” She kissed his tip, “all mine.” 

“Yeah,” He rolled the condom on, “all yours, baby.” 

Hand latching on the back of his neck, she pulled him on top of her, giving him time to line himself up cautiously before pushing himself in. Her jaw dropped wide, a gasp leaving her body and his head snapped to her.

“Shit, I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, it's just…new, keep going.”

He slid in until bottoming out completely, her head tilting back as her walls adjusted to his size. She had no judgment, but he felt good and maybe, just maybe he'd grow to feel amazing. There was only one way to find out. 

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.” He fell to his elbows, face hiding in her shoulder.

“Move, Q, please move,” She whimpered, “feels good!”

Quinn rocked his hips in a languid motion, back and forth, back and forth, his lovesick euphoria fuelling his stamina. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and whined in his ear, all he wanted to do was keep driving into her just to hear her ecstasy flourish. To feel her pulling him into an embrace of wet dopamine walls. Hooked on the feeling, he thrusted faster, groaning at the way she whimpered every time he pushed back in and his body surged with heat when her tits bounced against his chest. That was it. Just their bodies together. Together doing what nobody they knew had done before. Fucked their best friend, their person. Her Quinn and his y/n. In his bed, at the lake house, his cock plunging into her cunt with a luscious desperation serving the two teens a paradise of stimulation.

“Fuck!” He groaned, planting kisses on her jaw and her lips, “Say my name, pretty girl.” 

“Quinn,” if she could scream his name she would have, but hearing the low moan in his ear was enough for his hips to pound faster, “gonna cum, Quinn.”

She wrapped her legs around his hips, cock reaching deeper and the shockwaves of the angle feeding into his excitement. She was latching onto him like he was her lifeline, moans and grunts blending like a chorus the harder and more his hips rutted into her pussy with crude greed. No, it wasn't perfect, it was sloppy and beginner, as expected. But for the first time, y/n's cunt swallowed every inch of Quinn possible. Skins slapping and his cock hitting her cervix as she'd dreamed of, his voice in her ears, eyes steady on hers with a primal yet loving gaze as they worked through it together, tits bouncing with every rut and smiles bright with adoration at the reality.

“Cum with me,” he took her lips into his, tongues finding their rhythm as his thrusts lost theirs. “Taking me so well, princess.”

The pool of heat in her core was scorching, her seams of lust on the brink of bursting, Quinn's last few drags of his cock hitting the sweet spot right and a carnal, airy moan rang through his ears, her legs almost shaking. He took her through her orgasm, sticky cum filling the condom, his energy depleting, his hair sticking to his forehead but a fire still burning through his body. He wished he could have seen the display, seen the way she coated his cock creamy. 

He collapsed onto her, not pulling out just yet, he'd do that when his energy regenerated. For now, he lay chest to chest with his head tucked in the crook of her neck, her fingers running over his back muscles delicately as they caught their breaths. She could have stayed like that forever, his voice chanting shameless grunts and sweet nothings like a mantra replaying through her head, refusing to forget the image of him over her body in the most despicable way. What else could they do now? What more? She couldn't resist the temptation of thinking about his kinks, what got him going? What did she do that riled him up? Did he know that his arms were delectable? That she loved when his shirts got tight around his chest? 

“Did I hurt you?” His voice broke the silence.

“It hurt at first slightly but it's okay. You didn’t hurt me.” She smiled, one hand moving to stroke the back of his hair. “Are you good?”

She felt his grin against her neck, “I feel fucking amazing. You feel fucking incredible. You look so pretty, y/n. Always.” 

He was babbling, the comedown still holding onto him. While she did believe every word he said, was it in the moment or forever? She couldn't tell. She wouldn't know. But what she did know was that she didn't regret a single second, and wouldn't change it for the world. And that having him nestled inside her was comfortable, in the most filthy way. 

Quinn pushed himself onto his elbows, giving her a chaste kiss on her lips, “As much as I love this, I gotta clean us up and put clothes on before someone ruins it.” 

*

No one did ruin it. No one even questioned why they were in the same room, y/n waking up to his lips on her neck, leaving butterfly kisses until she'd grab him by the cheeks and kiss his face all over. That was the perk of sneaking into bedrooms for so long, people expected to see her emerge with Quinn, frothy toothbrushes hanging out of mouths and wearing a t-shirt that definitely wasn't hers (and he loved that). Back when they were fifteen, Jim had scolded Quinn for falling asleep with her, even if they did nothing. He received the uncomfortable teen pregnancy lecture that ruined the moment. It was the moment he realised that he would give anything to wake up next to her all the time, her face to be the first thing he saw and to start his day tangled up with her. Ellen wasn't as harsh on him, she knew her eldest wasn't irresponsible like that. Y/n hadn’t received a lecture at all. Her mother asked brutal questions on what they were up to, but her father just said ‘As long as you're not preggers’. He knew his daughter wasn't a fan of children so why would she be irresponsible? But now at seventeen, they’d really done it. And no one would know about it. And the sacrifices they'd make just to wake up next to each other every day. She'd love to see him in his disoriented, brooding state when she woke up, and if you asked Quinn or his family, she'd be the only one brave enough. 

With a dopey grin, Quinn's arms caged y/n into the kitchen counter, pressing himself into her, lips attached to her neck. Since that night, the urge for action became unbearable. The next week was pure sneaking around, making out in empty rooms, subtle touches under tables, hands travelling up clothes indecently far and bedtime shenanigans kept at a low volume. Like now, in the empty kitchen, rolling hips into each other and lips connecting and reconnecting with needy tongues tasting whatever their last drink was. What originally started as grabbing plates and fruit for the neighbourhood barbecue quickly melded into hips being shoved into the counter and being kissed breathless. 

“We can't do this here.” She lightly pushed him off her mouth, hands placing themselves on his pectorals, flat and copping a feel. His hands fell to the small of her back, eyes shifting to the blue bikini top he knew she'd worn just for him.

“Then let's go somewhere we can, pretty girl.” He said playfully, pulling her back to him. 

“Q, the barbecue. The Tkachuks will be here soon and Jim wants you to grill, he won't let Trevor near it again.” She slipped from his hold, taking the bowl of fruits off the counter and leaving through the porch doors, swaying her hips. He clicked his tongue. Matthew and Co would be there soon, but at least she hadn’t swept him under the rug.

When the Tkachuks did arrive, it was more like the Tkachuks and friends as Matthew’s posse also turned up. Not that anyone made a fuss, the Hughes were all for parties, especially ones that brought their kids together. 

One of the girls from Matthew's group, Layla, joined y/n at the garden table, which was arranged beautifully with snacks and plates. Y/n had barely heard the girl approach her until she saw her hand move the bowl of pretzels out of the way for the fruit bowl, and when she looked up she just blinked. Layla was gorgeous, with large, cat-like eyes lined with mascara and pin-straight blonde hair thrown into a bun. 

“Must be rough being in a house of guys all summer, eh?” She smiled softly. 

“Sometimes, s'not always bad. We have fun but the snoring is awful.” Y/n returned the smile, fiddling with her fingers. 

Layla held her arm out, “Come, have some girl time today. Boys are exhausting.” 

She wasn't sure if it was because she agreed with Layla, or if it was because an older and much cooler girl was inviting her willingly to hang out with her, but she looped her arm with Layla’s and was led to Matthew’s group. They were spread out on the outdoor sofa, drinks perched on the table and in their hands, laughing obnoxiously at assumably an inside joke. Y/n skin crawled a little, only a small smile across her lips as the nerves swarmed like a storm. Layla led her to the sofa, and she sat between her and the athletic guy from the driving range. He now wore a backwards cap and plain t-shirt. Nothing special but his name was Colton, going by the name tag that stuck out the collar of his shirt. Although in new territory, the other two girls wearing bikini tops and shorts brought a small dose of solidarity and comfort. At least she didn't stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Y/n! Glad you could join us!” Matthew's proud voice called from the other end of the L-shaped sofa. Her smile widened. Brady was right, Tkachuks did have dashing good looks but up close, Matthew was pretty. Very pretty, too pretty. “Colt, Zack, Ashley, this is y/n, y/n, Colt, Zack and Ashley.” He pointed to each of them.

Matthew was Matthew, pack leader and had a determined glint in his eye. Zack seemed too laid back for his own good, his blond hair still hidden under his cap, Ashley just waved quietly, knees tucked to her chest and Colton? Colton had the same brooding look as Quinn, but his eyes wandered a lot. And his facial hair was patchy. 

“Yo, you’re Quinn's girl, right? From the range?” Colton’s grin wasn't as charming as he thought it was, but his voice was. Gravelly, nice on the ears, not too loud but not mumbled. 

“I mean, kinda but we’re not together-” y/n began, nails scratching her collarbone.

“-nice, thought I recognised you.” 

“You guys will love y/n, Brady talks about her all the time. Did you know they almost fought?” Matthew mused like an excited puppy, even though the fight he was referencing was barely a fight at all. His friends raised their eyebrows, surprised that someone other than Matthew had raised their voice at a Tkachuk. 

“Matt, it was over vodka, it was barely a fight. He’s such a dramatic ass.” Not entirely true, again but rather that than the truth of what it was really about and how it ended. 

Matthew raised his hands in defeat, and Zack laughed. “Surprised Quinn even joined in. Usually, he’s the one huffing off.” 

She rolled her eyes, “He’s alright, fuck off. And it wasn't his first time either, he handled it a lot better than Brady.”

Quinn and Brady stood at the grill, flipping the burgers; Brady in his usual playful manner but Quinn with aggravation, like he wanted to hurt the burgers, charcoal them. They stood in silence, watching y/n with the older Tkachuk and his friends treat y/n like royalty across the garden. Quinn's grip on the tongs so tight his knuckles turned white, his glare sharp as she giggled. Her laugh echoed out through the garden, her real laugh that came from her stomach, the laugh he only heard when it was just the two of them. He flipped the burgers, his brows knitted and lips in a stone-cold frown. How she got so comfortable so soon was beyond his brain, but then again, perhaps the presence of other girls made it better, did she find being cooped up with guys awkward? 

“Quinner, you're staring. It's creepy.” Brady said.

“Am not staring, looking out for her.” He flipped the sausages.

Brady glanced over at his brother, with an almost worried look on his face. Y/n seemed…happy. She was chatting with the girls, poking fun at the boys but she was fitting into their summer nicely. Quinn looked over once again, his skin becoming hot and jaw clenching.

“I know what you're thinking. Matthew wouldn’t do something stupid like that. He may be an asshole sometimes but he's got morals. Besides, he's got the NHL, he wouldn't do something that could ruin that for him.” 

“Sorry…I just,” Quinn sighed, “I'm not used to not having her attention. We've spent almost all of our time together, and it's just…weird. Wanted our little group to hang out and shit. I dunno what's wrong with me dude. I hate when she looks at them like they're the best thing ever. I hate when someone else's name comes out of her mouth, I can't stand the thought of seeing her with someone else.”

“Then why not ask her out already? ‘Cause that sounds a lot like jealousy to me, Quinner.” 

“Why would I be jealous of them? It's complicated.” Quinn grumbled. Truth be told, he didn’t know how she felt. If he got rejected, he'd have to see her every day and act like nothing ever happened. He wouldn't kiss her again, touch her again, hug her again or wake up with her again. He'd be on his own, pining over the girl who didn't want him.

“Whatever, bro. You miss all the shots you don't take. But don't worry about Matt, believe me.” Brady shrugged, and they both watched the group from afar.

“It's not Matthew I'm worried about anymore.” Quinn gritted his teeth and made a mental note that he wasn’t the violent sibling and that punching people wasn't the solution anymore. He watched Colton throw his arm around the back of the sofa behind y/n, leaning in close. And when he thought his worst fears couldn't get worse, they definitely did.

Y/n retracted her shoulders like a frightened tortoise. She really was stuck between Layla and Colton, getting up and suddenly scuttling away just caused a scene. There was only so much fake laughter she could take before it became a chore, Colton had zero humour to his looks, but boy could he sweet talk. Throwing his arm behind her, thumb rubbing over her shoulder while compliments spilt from his mouth and into her ego. Quinn called her pretty all the time, but having a boy other than him call her flowery names released a new batch of butterflies. 

Colton's lips in her ear, mumbling with his husky tone, “Blue's your colour, y/n, anyone ever tell you that?” 

She shook her head. Such a liar, she was such a shameless liar.

“I hardly believe that, like how I don’t believe you when you say you've only had one boyfriend. Pretty girls don't just have one.” His eyes relaxed and became half-lidded, but her tummy flipped and hands clasped together in her lap. He was right. Pretty girls don't have just one boyfriend. They have a guy who calls her pretty girl but she doesn't know if she's just the token female or something meaningful. 

“Only the one. Not a lot of guys think I'm pretty, Colton, not any relevant ones at least.” Her eyes darted to the girls, but they were too caught up in conversation, not even Matthew or Zack could catch her message.

“I think you're pretty.” Colton's finger hooked around the strap of her bikini top, running it up and down the string, “Am I relevant?” 

The attention ignited fires along her skin, jolts of electricity throughout her nerves. An older guy thought she was attractive, that was new. And exciting. But also wrong. And felt like a betrayal, cheating, even if she and Quinn weren't together. But the attention and thrill, guys her age never begged for her, never looked at her the way he did. Even Zack agreed with Colton, proven at the driving range. For the first time in her life, she felt desired, hot. If she could get Colton, who else could she get? 

Before she could make her move, Brady's voice bellowed, informing her that food was ready. Better luck next time.

It's called late-night shenanigans for a reason. And this time as soon as the adults had retreated to bed, Matthew and friends plus Hughes and friends had red solo cups lined in a triangular formation on the garden table, music softly playing in the background while the porchlight gave them enough visibility. Their favourite game, beer pong. With cups full to the brim with cheap beer. The teams split as anyone would have expected them to, and no one made a fuss. 

Team 1: Matthew, Quinn, Brady, Zack, Trevor, Cole Team 2: Colton, Layla, y/n, Ashley, Jack, Luke

Forty-five minutes into the game Team Two (Colton's Canines) were leading. Team One (Matthew’s Hotshots) weren't far behind but Cole and Brady had a terrible aim for hockey players. Y/n's aim was almost too good, but her best-kept secret was that it wasn't her first beer pong game. This was why she was one of the least drunk people standing (Jack and Trevor barely able to stand, Jack doing his best to keep the beer down) aside from Luke, who was only allowed one cup given he was thirteen. 

Brady stumbled to the table, ping pong ball loosely held in his fingers as he lined up his shot, his stance wide to stabilise himself as the world pulsed around him. He would've been alright if the cups contained just beer, but he was the first to discover that it was beer in some cups and vodka orange in others. How it went unnoticed was a mystery, but you're only young once. Brady made his shot, the ball bouncing once skimming the rim of the cup, and missing. Colton's Canines cheered, y/n laughed manically at him, throwing up her middle finger jokingly. Layla retrieved the ball, lining up her shot, releasing but also missing, the other team cheering in return. 

Jack and Trevor's turn rolled around. Colton's Canines with four cups left and Matthew's Hotshots with two. Trevor poked his tongue through his lips, eyes trying to concentrate on the cups in front of him. He hadn’t been this drunk since The Vodka Incident. 

He winked at the girls in front, “Watch this ladies, a kiss if I get it.” He threw too long and missed. 

“Nice one, Trev. That first kiss isn't coming any time soon.” Y/n jested, shaking her head. The other girls giggled.

“Hey, I’ve kissed girls!” 

“Mhm, first time I’m hearing about this, what about you Jack?” 

Jack nodded, “Sure, sure. Anyway, my turn!”

Jack cracked his knuckles, positioned himself and took the shot, the ball bouncing once and landing directly into the cup. The Canines cheered, y/n and Jack throwing their arms around each other and jumping in a circle. Layla and Ashley gave the middle Hughes pecks on his cheeks as he watched Trevor down the cup of beer. One cup to four cups.

Y/n stood opposite Quinn, a bright smile on her face and his lips couldn't resist returning it. They couldn't help it. He didn't think, nor did he hype himself up. If there was one thing Quinn had learnt, it was that Brady was right. You miss every shot you don't take. And so he threw the ball and watched it bounce into a cup with a smug grin, the Tkachuk brothers hooting and hollering. Yet, his eyes remained on hers, gently. She chugged the drink and wiped the remnants from her lips with the back of her hand. 

“When did you get so good at beer pong?” She laughed.

“I had a great teacher.” He shrugged, y/n acted shocked even though they'd been beer pong buddies at every party. When they were split this time, it pained them a little. Being pitted against each other was frankly like the end of the world, never in their lives did they enjoy being out of sync. 

Y/n held the ball between her fingers, closed one eye and lined her shot. Large hands inviting themselves on her hips, Colton's voice in her ears and his breath unpleasant on her neck. If she weren't the centre of attention she would have jolted away, but the win was so close and Quinn’s arms were not so far. The ball bounced into the Hotshots final cup, Matthew and Brady both throwing themselves dramatically into Quinn, Cole and Trevor falling to their knees in despair. But Quinn's eyes pricked tears as he stood still and a rock. The Canines jumped for joy in each other's arms, hugging and laughing. Except y/n. She never got the chance. Before she had any time to even step away from the table, Colton's mouth latched onto hers, her hands moving to his chest. Quinn wiggled his way out of the Tkachuks, mumbling something about breaking the seal. 

The bathroom door swung open and slammed behind Quinn. His hands gripped the basin as he did his best to choke back his tears. Why did it hurt? Y/n was supposed to run into his arms like she always did and they’d hug longer than friends would, until eternity. But no one would question that because they were long-time friends. They were friends. So why did it tear his heart to shreds when the lips he devoured earlier that day melted into the lips of another? What was so fucking great about Matthew? Or Colton? And why was he such a coward?

Y/n pushed Colton off her, startled and heart-yearning for comfort. But he was gone. 

“Quite a shot you have,” Colton smirked, “C'mon, princess, I can give you my address and we can see what other party tricks you got.” 

“Pass.” Gross. Only Quinn got to call her that, but he was nowhere to be seen after she knew he'd disappeared, like he always did when upset. 

“Sure? Because it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, think about it. You could be losing your virginity to someone who knows what they're doing-” he never finished his speech. Zack called him over, letting him know that they were heading out for the clubs and with that Colton was gone. As if y/n never existed. Little did he know, though, that his offer was pointless. Little did he know.

Even after agreeing that The Vodka Incident would not happen again, the usual suspects (even Quinn had returned, but with a face of thunder), mostly drunk, sat around the fire pit, with cups of leftover beer and vodka orange. Luke joined in this time, though Jack wouldn't let him drink any alcohol. A small sense of deja vu washed over, memories of the last fire pit night bringing a small smile to her lips as she sloshed the beer in her cup around. 

“I'm gonna be really real here, and you guys should too,” Brady pointed around the circle with his cup in hand, “I had my first kiss last year. Horrible.”

“Oh yeah? Explain.” Cole asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his drink.

“Neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing and we'd both just eaten tacos so yeah. Didn't taste nor feel great at all.” 

“Nasty. Bro, at least pop a mint beforehand. I kissed two girls a couple of years ago, it was okay. Nothin’ special, but we did crash teeth for one of them. That was awkward.” Jack chuckled, almost cringing at the memory. 

“Poor girl, the kiss probably meant something special to her, Rowdy.” Y/n absently pitched in, feeling Quinn's eyes on her, as if to say ‘What happens in my room, stays in my room.’ Was he ashamed of it? What was so bad about the kiss? Or kisses? 

“Of course, you'd say that,” Jack rolled his eyes, adjusting the backward hat on his head.

“What about you Trev? I know we joke about it but have you actually kissed anyone?” She sipped her drink.

“Doesn't matter. What about you, huh? Bet you haven't. Anyway, Cole hasn't either, or Luke. So I'm not the only loser.” Defensive Trevor was an amusing Trevor, he huffed his cheeks and flushed red. 

“I have. Fifteen. It was good, actually. One of the most memorable.” She crossed her leg over the other and leaned back in her chair, ignoring the shit-eating grin on Brady's face. Quinn said nothing, and nor did he want to say anything. He just sank further into his seat and finished his vodka orange, stuffing the cup into the chair's cup holder. “Brady, you ever made out with someone? You said that no one could resist a Tkachuk.”

“Ah, well- almost okay? Her dad turned up and we had to stop. Can't believe the guy, honestly.” The group laughed at his stammering, except Quinn, who'd probably heard the story a thousand times. “You think it's funny, y/n? What about you, huh?”

She leant forwards, hands gripping the armrests and the same shit-eating grin smeared on her lips, “Yeah, and it was hot. Would do it all over again.”

“Brady, you're forgetting Colton literally shoved his tongue in her mouth over an hour ago,” Trevor exclaimed, the musketeers giggling over the crackling of the flames.

Quinn's glare thickened, and Brady caught sight of it. Luke did too as he watched his brother abruptly stand up and head for the kitchen, his feet heavy on the porch steps. Her eyes softened and followed him, watching him slide the doors open with an aggravation alien for him. 

“I'll be right back.” She spoke over Jack.

Jogging in her flip flops up the stairs and into the kitchen, closing the door gently. Cautiously, she followed Quinn to the fridge, watching him yank a Fanta from the shelf and close the door harshly.

“Hey Q, are you okay?” She asked with a small voice, picking the skin on her thumb.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” He pulled the can's tab, the fizz echoing through the empty room. It was always ‘I'm good’, never ‘I'm fine’. She'd known him long enough to know something like that, like how he always removed himself when he was in a bad mood, scared to hurt someone's feelings. “Shouldn't you be with your new boyfriends?” 

He grumbled, barely looking her in the eye as he moved to leave out the porch doors, but she blocked his path, standing almost chest to chest with him, looking up. She hated that she found it attractive when he was mad, his voice always dropped. “No. We haven't talked properly all day.”

“So now you wanna talk?” He spun on his heel, slamming the can into the marble counter and pacing in the kitchen with one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. It wasn't the time for the conversation, but a monster inside him taunted him with the idea that they may never have another opportunity.

“Yes. So, what? And who are you-” She folded her arms, but he interrupted.

“-Oh don't play this game! I saw the way you were looking at Matthew, everyone saw. And Colton? You let him have a field day. How'd he taste? Like cheap beer and cigarettes? Or an adolescence of putting you before himself?” He snapped, staring as if waiting for an answer. She'd never seen or heard him yell like that. Fuck, Quinn had never properly yelled at her. Jack and Luke had relayed stories about what Quinn did to his teammates when they humiliated her, or what a pissed-off Quinn sounded like. But they were his brothers, he was supposed to get annoyed at them, he wasn't supposed to get annoyed with his best friend. He hadn’t even yelled at Trevor like that, and that was saying something. 

Putting you before himself. Her stomach emptied, just a pit of guilt spiralling yet her heartstrings yanked and toyed with. She couldn't bear to see him like that, his jealousy manipulated him in ways he had no idea could happen. She learned he was possessive, and she thought it was sweet. She liked it. But she wasn't his so why should she like it so much? There. She wasn't his. Not officially. Their attraction was obvious, lustful. But did he feel the same as her? Did his heart slow when tangled in each other's arms? Did he find her utterly intoxicating, wanting to kiss and fuck with love not just because they can and because it's easy to? Maybe her hints were too subtle, maybe she was too nice to Mila that one time. Maybe her glares in the hallways weren't threatening enough. Words left unsaid, they were convenient for each other, just like the kids at school said. Friends with benefits. Yeah, that's what they were. And it used to keep the peace.

She never answered his question, but it did eat at her. “Quinn, what the fuck? Look, I'm sorry I upset you, I really am, you know I am. You know I never want to hurt you but can you blame a girl for wanting to hang out with other girls? I had no idea where Layla was leading me, and I don't know what came over me. Just, having guys call you pretty does things, emotional things and it's different when you do it because we're friends. And I know you're pissed about beer pong, if I could have been with you I would have 'cause I did not ask nor want to be kissed like that,” She pleaded, watching his eyes gloss over as he sniffed. The last thing she wanted to do was make him cry. Then she remembered that all of whatever was going on between them was nothing but fun, and Quinn was the one who showed her that. “But why do you care so much about a fucking kiss? We're not even together.”

He turned away and sighed, face buried in his hands. He didn’t mean to shout. He didn't want to cry but the tears welled and rolled down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes with his palms, heart pulsing in his ears and with the little energy he had left, he turned again to face her. 

“I care because I thought we were something, y/n. I thought this,” he gestured between them, voice trembling, “meant something real. Friends don't do the shit we do. I hated the way he touched you, you're supposed to be mine.” 

Her eyes watered, bottom lip quivering, hearing confession so raw. The confession of a confused and broken young man. They were only seventeen but the level of emotion in their argument made them sound like they were going through a horrendous break-up after a long-term relationship. “Am I? That didn't matter when you were shoving your tongue down Chloe's throat. I thought we were something too, Quinn.” 

The night she needed him the most, the night Leo dumped her, she found him in cahoots with some girl in their cohort. That was the moment she realised that perhaps she was just a placeholder. 

Quinn groaned in frustration, not at y/n, but at himself but there was no excuse left for him to make as he spat venom at her, “Like you, she took me by surprise. We were drunk. But didn't think you'd hold onto that since Matthew is soooo dreamy and tall and pretty, probably hoped it was him trying to rip your clothes off, hoped Colton would make him jealous. That's why you've been using me as practice, for someone better, huh?”

“Fuck you, Quintin!” she screamed, “the fuck are you talking about? Using you? Is that how little you think of me?” 

He pointed at her, firmly, “You and I both know it wasn't supposed to go this far!”

The silence that fell on them was thick and uncomfortable. Their gazes locked into each other as chests panted. Tears streamed from red, sore eyes as arms fell to their sides. Neither party felt victorious, deep down they really wished they hadn't said a word at all but the lake house makes emotions surge and disturb the serenity. It always had, with and without y/n, Cole and Trevor. He just wished he’d said something sooner, then he wouldn't have lost her like that. Once again, he was a coward and let her slip through his fingers. 

Y/n exhaled deeply, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, “Maybe. But part of me was glad it did,” her voice calmest as she stepped backwards and started heading out the patio doors, “Oh, and for what it's worth, I shoved him off. He didn't taste like hot chocolate and popcorn on a winter's evening. I’d choose that over anything.”  

And she left for the boys. Quinn's heart dropped and shattered, the tears falling like waterfalls and he didn't even want the drink anymore. He left it on the counter and shuffled upstairs. Hot chocolate and popcorn on a winter's evening. Their hockey game combo they share, just the two of them and they had been doing that since they'd met at ten years old. 

*

Y/n didn't sleep in Quinn's room after that. She didn't speak to him for the next passing week, occupying herself with Luke or Cole. She played video games with Luke, baked cookies with him, took him and Cole out on the boat (just to spite Quinn), and played pool in the basement. Quinn watched, unable to exit the proximity of them. He wasn't seething. He was deflated. Like a sad, wet, cat. Most of all, he was lonely. And he hated sleeping alone. 

Jack placed his plate next to the sink, watching Quinn's shoulders slump at yet another dish to clean. Sunday's were his day to clean dinner dishes, and usually, y/n helped him dry and put them away, but since he'd bitten her head off a week ago, he struggled alone. Jack hated seeing his brother dejected, it was the same hollow eyes that a lost hockey game caused. One where you tried so hard just to fuck it up. He grabbed the tea towel off the oven’s handle and started drying the dripping dishes from the draining board.

The middle Hughes. Rowdy with ambition in his blood, but also a brother. Jack took a plate, “Sooo, y/n's been spoiling Luke a lot this week. Why'd you get demoted?” 

Quinn glared from the corner of his eye. He knew Jack just wanted to lighten the mood, but he also knew he wasn't tuned in with comfort at his age. “I fucked up. Said something I shouldn't have said, an in-the-moment thing.”

“Like?” Jack placed a plate down, taking another like a system in a machine, Quinn washed, he dried, plate added to the pile.

“I- It's-,” Quinn stammered, remembering that no one had a clue what they were up to, “We just had a misunderstanding and instead of being mature about it, I said some stupid things.”

Jack thought hard, barely looking at him and set his gaze out the window into the garden, watching his dad put the covering over the boat. “You're my big brother, and if you think for a second that I'm gonna take that as an answer, you're wrong. At least tell me the root cause of it.” 

Quinn paused, his tone coming across as more irritated than intended, “I was jealous, Jack...sorry. And I walked off instead of apologising and here we are.”

“You're a real idiot, you know that, right?” 

*

Sunday night, a whole week of sleepless nights due to Trevor. And even Cole had started getting irritated. How could one guy snore so badly? And he was only sixteen. She lay wide awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Had she been too harsh on Quinn? Was silent treatment really necessary? She wouldn't have been surprised if Quinn was miserable too, they had been each other's pillars for years. 

Her trance of thoughts was broken by a ‘thud’ from the bed. She shot up, only to see Cole's pillow over Trevor's face, a disgruntled Cole still gripping it.

“Smothering crosses my mind.” He deadpanned.

Trevor sat up with urgency, letting the pillow fall into his lap, tank top crumpled to his stomach, “What the fuck? Why are you two awake? You should sleep.”

“Dude, your snoring is so bad, you gotta do something about it,” Cole said, taking back his pillow.

“I literally have to move rooms because of it.” She added, laying back down.

“Then why are you here?” Trevor lay back down, pulling the duvet to his chest. “Actually, why haven't you been with Quinn this week?”

She hesitated, “Q and I had an argument. We're not on speaking terms. And honestly, I don't think he wants to see me.”

All three of them lay facing the ceiling, listening to the whirr of the fan fill the void. The boys knew something was wrong, Quinn and y/n's separation wasn't hard to miss but keeping normality was best. Nobody wanted a ruined summer. 

“I think all he wants is to see you. You're his world and he just mopes without you. What was it about?” Cole's voice was soft and quiet so Jim or Ellen wouldn't come barging in again. That happened once when they were younger, all three had the giggles and Jim had to threaten to separate them. 

“Just a stupid misunderstanding. He said shit, I said shit and we both just hurt each other in the end…” she sighed, “I don't know what to do, guys.” 

They didn't pry, they weren't sure if they wanted to know what was said. After so many years of watching Quinn and y/n hopelessly pine over each other, an argument couldn't ruin that. 

“Well, as a start you could apologise. Make up, make out, whatever you two do. And for fucks sake, just talk. Like, really talk about whatever's going on.” Trevor replied, not really knowing what he was saying but he tried to be helpful when he could. 

She kicked the sheets off and opened the guest room door and whispered, ‘Thanks’ before slipping out. He didn’t mean right then and there but he shrugged, letting Cole fall asleep first before his snoring continued. 

Like a creep, she stood with her back against his door, mustering up the courage to talk and pushing her pride aside. She sighed and tiptoed over to his bed, and lay on her back next to him. His sheets were warm and cosy but heat radiated off his body. Neither said anything, but he felt her presence and it took everything he had to not engulf her in a hug and spill his apologies, he was still an insecure young man deep down. But hearing her breathing, he was also weak. 

“Hi,” she greeted into the silence, voice above a whisper. Quinn slowly turned over, threw his arm over her torso and buried his face into her neck. She didn't respond for a few seconds, but when she wrapped her arms around him, his chest fell weightless. “I'm so sorry, Q.” She mumbled into his shoulder, fingers finding themselves in his hair.

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come at you like that or said any of those things,” he pushed himself onto to elbows, eyes glassy but red, “I was jealous and I took it out on you. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I shouldn't have brought things up either, seeing you with a girl just…yeah, makes me jealous too, especially because neither of us communicated well. I take back everything I said, except the last bit.” She smiled slightly, her palm on his cheek. 

“I missed you,” his lips fell into a sad smile, his head falling onto her chest. 

“I missed you too.” She held him tight, “Why did you think I was using you?”

“Some kid at school brought the idea of just being convenient. And then when Brady came over with the vodka, you said Matthew was attractive. And I stupidly put the two together. Regretted it when you mentioned hot chocolate. I should've helped you, but instead, I got jealous and ran away.” His voice was hoarse, hand slipping under her shirt and thumb rubbing the skin on her stomach.

“It's okay. I should've helped you at the party instead of crying like a bitch. Guess we're both stupid.” She chuckled.

Minutes passed and neither dozed off, but neither spoke. His thumb caressed her skin, while her fingers played with his hair, their breathing pattern slowly falling into a synchronised rhythm. Once again, they lay in his bed, tangled in each other's limbs and once again they both rendered the same question. If they hadn't been afraid of all the possible answers, they could be happily skipping through meadows or sleeping alone again. 

She took a deep breath, and he felt her chest rise and fall. With enough courage, she muttered, “Q? What are we?”

He didn't answer immediately, but he pulled his hand from her shirt and hovered over her body, his eyes following hers: lips to eyes, lips to eyes.

“More than friends.” He licked his lips, but he couldn't read her expression, “I don't wanna be friends with benefits, and I don't wanna just be your best friend anymore.”

“Quinn…” 

He clambered off her and sat against the headboard on his side of the bed. Giving her no chance to react, he pulled her onto his lap, her thighs straddling his. Quinn's hands cupped the globes of her ass, and the soft flesh reminded him of how much he missed kneading and pawing at them. 

“Please, let me get this off my chest, I've been a coward.” He started, the fire inside him igniting when her palms slid down his chest and sat comfortably on his pectorals. Where they belonged, if you asked him. Quinn wasn't good with words, or feelings, it was something all the brothers had in common, and y/n eyebrow raised at how choked up he suddenly became when admitting to trying to not be a coward. “Shit, this is harder than I thought. Fuck- Uh, okay. When I said I spent my adolescence putting you before myself, I meant it. Valentine's Day, when we were fifteen, I meant to give you those chocolates after the second period, but my friends roped me into helping someone ask this girl out. That evening when you came to see if I was okay, and we fell asleep for the first time, my heart went crazy, I was sweating so much ‘cause I wanted you to be comfortable and I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

She took his face into her hands, feeling the heat rise in his skin and spill his mind. He pulled her closer to him, her stomach tingling at the way he massaged the flesh like his personal stress toy.

“Remember the concert? You clung onto me like I was your lifeline, I wanted to kiss you right then and there. And the Maple Leafs game, God after the Maple Leafs game. I'll never forget the way you looked at me like I was fucking treasure. Like I was your everything.” He stopped his babbling, hands giving her ass a rest and holding onto her hips, a small part of him kicking himself for sitting her too close to his crotch. 

“I never wanna hear you say that you're not good with words again.” Y/n felt her heart pound in her throat, stars in her eyes at every word of his laced with a sweet desire for redemption. “Every second I've ever shared with you was the highlight of my life. Since the day we met, you've been everything. I just wanted to be your everything too.”

“I feel like the luckiest man alive. Every day, all the time.” A glint of carnal passion glazed over his eyes as they steadied on hers. Her thumbs rubbed his cheekbones, his hands holding onto her for dear life. She couldn't stop her lip from quivering, the emotions that swirled had to be released. The butterflies had to be set free, the fluttering raging and heat in her core inappropriately bubbling. Quinn's room was silent, just the hum of his fan filling the crumbs of awkwardness as they refrained from pouncing on each other. He took a deep breath, puffed his chest out and took a risk bigger than any he'd taken in hockey, a risk with worse consequences. He could get over hockey but he couldn't get over her smile, or laugh, or existence. “Y/n, I have been in love with you since we were fifteen. You're the only person who makes me feel this way.”

“Q,” She breathed, pushing herself into him, closing the painful gap between them and connecting their lips into a long kiss, “Can we be real? Like, boyfriend-girlfriend real?”

He nodded, planting kisses over her face and down her neck, “Yes. Yes, please. You're mine and I wanna be yours. God, you have no idea how happy I was when you told me you didn't kiss Leo, you were still all mine.”

She giggled, his breath on her neck tickling her skin and the arousal pooling in her stomach dripping into her underwear, “Come here, I wanna kiss my boyfriend. Maybe show him how much he means to me.” 

She kissed him softly, hands sliding from his cheeks to the back of his neck, where her fingers tangled between the curls on the nape of his neck, tugging gently to tease a grunt or groan from him. His grip on her hips loosened, and his hands ran along her thighs until they groped at her ass again, encouraging her to roll her hips into his. They'd kissed before, but this time it was meaningful. It was something clear, not a bundle of questions of ‘what ifs’. When her teeth gently bit his lower lip, to refuse would have made him a criminal. The bliss that cradled him when their tongues met once again was different too, it was just his to taste. No one else's, he could lap at hers until they dribbled down their chins, delirium rushing to their heads when they moaned and whimpered when someone pulled away to breathe. 

The best part was the peace of mind. She didn't have to think about anyone touching him the way she did as she slipped their shirts over their heads again, hands roaming each other's curves and dips like it was their first time all over again. Before Quinn knew it, his hand was rummaging through his nightstand again, her clothes would be on his bedroom floor, his skin would be pressed against hers, and they would be under his sheets, rasping and whining as quietly as possible as his cock hit new angles, or as her throat took more than either had thought. The difference this time was that having sex came with a meaning, a feeling other than lust. It wasn’t a fun game, it was intimate and exclusive. It was with the red thread of fate, tied around their pinkie fingers, and it had finally led them into a sublime vicinity.

The usual suspects sat where the best times of their lives began. The night was young, the sun only just falling into slumber as the crickets chirped. Wrapped up in hoodies and lounging in lawn chairs, summer evenings nearly ended the same every day. Brady, y/n and Quinn with a box of beer between them, Trevor, Jack, Cole and Luke with non-alcoholic equivalents y/n had found, even though she’d seen them grab a real bottle when they thought they were slick, around the fire pit at the lake house. 

The harrowing thing about good times is that they fly too fast, and you're left wondering why you didn't have enough time. There are two kinds of people. People like Quinn who prepared to open a new chapter in his story, a new door in his life. And people like y/n who clawed at the door to keep it open, screaming for more time. Not more time with Quinn, they both got into the University of Michigan and after a year of dating, they still had many in their journey. But Brady was off to Boston University, and Jack, Cole, Trevor and Luke still had high school and their lives together would carry on. 

Brady broke the silence first, “Do you guys have any regrets?”

He didn't expect Luke to answer, given his life had only just begun.

“I regret not talking more to new people,” Cole replied, listening to the crackling of the burning wood. “Feel like I would have friends like Jack and Trevor, be remembered as me not known as ‘Jack and Trevor's friend’, yunno?“

“Dude, no! People know you as Cole! You're not just a third wheel!” Jack protested, hurt in his tone. 

“Cole, you're not our third wheel! We love you, buddy!” Trevor added, his guilt creeping up on him. 

“I don't have any, yet. Aside from being born so far apart from you losers.” Luke smirked, all smug like fourteen-year-olds were. Y/n grinned and shook her head at him. If there was one person who had a soft spot in her heart, it would always be Luke. 

“And it better stay that way,” she laughed, “Luke, I just wanna put you in my pocket and take you everywhere.” 

“Ahem, what about us?” Jack gasped dramatically, pointing at himself and his two musketeers. 

“Ew, you're annoying and Trevor’s snoring can only get fucking worse. Cole and I actually considered smothering him once!” y/n joked, looking around the group to see smiles. 

The laughter died down, and they went back to sipping drinks and watching the fire, minds wandering in separate directions.

“You guys will come visit, right?” Trevor asked, his voice the quietest it had ever been. 

“Of course. We'll be back during the summer, and we can hang out again.” y/n's voice was the softest it could have been with Trevor, usually she nagged as if she were his older sister. 

*

All good things must come to an end, and carefree days slowly dissipated for Quinn, y/n and Brady. The three stood out the front of the Hughes lake house, waiting for Matthew to pick Brady up on his way through. Not one of them dared to say much. They'd had their sappy talks earlier and if they started again late at night, tears were guaranteed. Especially since both boys were due in the upcoming NHL draft, that was one of the scariest parts. 

But she did say something. She wasn't sure if she'd ever see Brady again, and while she hadn’t known him long, she kept him close. 

She held her fist out to the middle Tkachuk with soft eyes, “Good luck, Brady. At Boston and in the draft.”

Brady breathed and pulled her by her wrist into a sudden bear hug, “Thanks, y/n. Good luck at Michigan. And if Quinner ever hurts you, you tell me, okay?”

She giggled as they pulled away, “Got it. Hear that Q?” 

Quinn playfully rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. God, as if I'd want to do that…or have Brady rock up at my door ready to hit me.”

“I've done it before and I'll do it again!” 

Shortly after, Matthew's truck pulled up. The three bid their final goodbyes of the summer before Quinn and y/n watched the Tkachuks disappear down the road. 

“He'll go far, Q. So fucking far.” She uttered, her eyes wide with a childlike admiration. 

Quinn snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, “Too far for his own good.”

“And I expect to see you both on TV, okay? Don't hit each other though, leave Brady and Matthew to brawl.” 

“I'll do my best.” He paused, his smile fading, “What happens if I get drafted? What happens next?”

“You'll get drafted, and you'll either jump straight in or play at UMich for a bit. I'll finish university and who knows? We'll call and text, we'll figure it out and we'll see each other in the summer. Right here. I'll go wherever you go.”

“But what do you want to do? Like after you graduate? I don't wanna hold you back.” 

She cupped his cheek, “I don’t know. I don't know yet. I'll probably do something media or hockey-based, you know that.”

He nodded, giving her a slow and warm kiss on her lips, as if he were to never kiss them again, savouring the flowers that bloomed inside, all the fireworks exploding at once and the reassurance that in the end, he got his girl. The future was scary, and no one could know what would come next. But y/n finally stopped clawing at the closing door that she desperately tried to keep open, and hand in hand followed Quinn into the next chapter of their story. 

“I love you, Q.” 

“I love you too, y/n.”

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

small worlds taglist | @bunbunbl0gs

2024 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

[sweetteainthesummerx]

|◁ II ▷| down bad ! |◁ II ▷|

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x famous singer! reader

warnings: fluff, smut is implied but not graphic!! use of y/n.

summary: your sister sends you an article of you and quinn being absolutely down bad for each other...

word count: 2.4 k

notes: saw one too many edits of my handsome boy on TikTok and this is the consequence :) also, this is sort of based off of taylor swift and travis kelce. enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're finishing up in the studio, just done tweaking one of your last songs on your new album when your phone dings! with a notification.

it's your sister, who sends a trail of emojis that don't really make sense and a link.

you press on it, confused and assuming it's something she wants for her birthday that's coming up soon.

instead it's an article that reads, TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE.

you laugh, because the cover photo is one of you and quinn from last year when you took him as your plus one to the grammy's. you have to admit, you both look really good, and so, so in love.

so you nestle into your chair to read it.

TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE

one of Hollywood's up and comings, y/n l/n and quinn hughes of canucks and nhl fame have been dating for over three years, and have been public for two. we have complied a list of fan favourite moments of the couple over the span of their relationship that show their deep (and public) affection and love for each other

10. 2023 Grammy's Award Ceremony

picture: you are wearing a light blue floor length gown, hair loose and curled. your makeup is simple and glowy. quinn stands next to you, in a clean, slate grey suit with a hand wrapped around your hip, fingers nestled in the dip of your hipbone.

the award ceremony for the grammy's - where y/n won best album for the second year in a row - was when the famous couple first went public officially, not counting the many paparazzi pictures taken in both vancouver and Los Angeles.

sources show that the two could hardly keep their hands off of each other. they were seen kissing multiple times through out the night.

it was true, quinn had been extra handsy that night, and had all but ripped that dress off of you when you got back to the hotel. you sigh at the memory, stomach warm and a little achy. you can't wait for him to come back from the roadie he left for only two days ago.

9. y/n's tiktoks

despite their massive success in their respective industries, it is easy to forget that they are also part of gen z. y/n's TikTok page features fashion, her music and most popular of all, her boyfriend. here are only some of her most viewed and liked videos:

video one: you smile into the camera, fluffing your hair in a close shot. the subtitles read: fit check with my bf! quinn pulls you against him by your waist, kissing your face over and over as you laugh, pushing at his chest. over the song, you tell him to let go so you can show your outfits. he lets go reluctantly but holds your hand, spinning you around to show off your sundress. then he grabs you and dips you low, hands dangerously close to your ass, as you giggle into his cheek.

video two: the video is taken by one of your friends who took your phone. she's on the couch and you and quinn are in the kitchen cooking for the small get together in your vancouver apartment. you lean up to smile at him, and he bumps his nose with yours. some trending love song plays in the back.

you flush at the comments gushing about how he looks at you, the height difference and how cute you guys are. there's something so sweet at seeing the two of you from an outsiders perspective.

8. quinn knowing y/n's entire discography

during media days, one interview has elias petterson and quinn hughes guessing songs and the artists. the journalist managed to sneak at least four of y/n's songs in, quinn getting all four correct, with the full name of the song, name of artist and then album, all under 10 seconds of the song playing. now that's a supportive boyfriend!

you watch the video linked, your boyfriend sweaty and hair wet. the media person is impressed, and quinn just shrugs bashfully and offers a crooked smile. you look at the time stamp and bite a grin: it's from before you guys went public. no wonder all of your fans say you guys were obvious.

7. quinn hughes: nhl player and personal bodyguard

fame in hollywood forces many in the industry to have body guards, and y/n is not exempt. for many years before she started dating the canuck's defensemen, she's had many bodyguards following her around. now, it seems like her boyfriend has taken over that job.

video: your body guard, john moves to open the limo door as you and quinn arrive to an event, but your boyfriend crosses from his side of the car to open it himself, patting john on the shoulder and gently pushing him from the entrance and helping you out himself. he helps you balance on your heels as you stand and wave at the cameras, one hand on your waist as he maneuvers you to the other side of the sidewalk so he can block you from the cars. he keeps your hand cradled in his, his other arm around your waist as he shoulders through the paparazzi.

quinn looks so attractive and so masculine in this video. you've never had boyfriends who took princess treatment so seriously, but quinn has always been a defender, on ice and off. it was a little awkward and it took a long a while for him to get you, but ever since he had you, he's made sure he tried his very best to keep and protect you.

6. getaway in hawaii

although the couple hasn't had any announcement of engagement yet, early last year they were sighted in hawaii on a trip eerily like a honeymoon: here are some pictures.

picture one: you're in a tiny pink bikini and he's in board shorts. he's taken off his hat to give to you, and you're pressing on a pair of your too-small sunglasses onto his face while both of you laugh.

picture two: the two of you are standing in the water up to your calves. he's got his fingers tangled in the strings of your bikini bottoms, and yours are on his chest as the two of you look into the horizon.

picture three: quinn has you balanced on his shoulder, smiling as you clutch at his back. one of his forearms is possessively covering your ass from the camera, and his other hand is wrapped fully around your ankle to give you a semblance of balance.

you still smile every time you think of that trip, afternoons playing in the water, romantic dinners and nights with his head between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair. you silently remind yourself to book a vacation back there the next time both of you are free.

5. the NHL award ceremony

the recent NHL award ceremony when quinn hughes received the James Norris award for his skills as a defenceman gave us another peek into y/n's relationship with hughes family.

video one: you're sitting between quinn and luke in your pretty dark blue gown. your hair is pulled back from your face the way quinn likes. he's got an arm thrown over the back of the seat, fingers rubbing your shoulder as you talk to Luke about his hair routine. quinn murmurs something the camera can't catch into your ear and you laugh, tucking your hand into the his that's resting on his lap. he leans back, stretching his legs as you absentmindedly rub his knee, leaning over his brothers to talk to his mom.

video two: his name is called, and you stand with him, clapping loudly. he hugs you first, and you press a kiss into the corner of his lip, but he plants a firm, real one on yours. your manicured, white nails contrast against the black expanse of his suit and broad back. you push him gently towards luke. when he's finished hugging everyone and comes back down the aisle, you quickly fix his tie and smooth down his lapels. he kisses your cheek again and goes down to the stage.

photo three: the trophy is in the middle, the whole family wrapped together. you're tucked between ellen, the older woman has an arm around your waist and your boyfriend's got is arm slung across you shoulders on you other side, everyone smiling big for the camera.

you still remember ellen and jim insisting that you get in the photo, because "you're practically family anyways," and "it's any day now" that their son proposes to you. the photo is on their fridge, to this day.

4. quinn's y/n shirt

another video from y/n's tiktok. during the christmas season, she spent the holidays with the hughes family. her future brother in law (hopefully), jack hughes got quinn a pretty special present.

video: jack is holding the camera, and it pans to you and quinn. your holding a giant sushi stuffed toy (long story) from luke on your lap as you sit next to your boyfriend.

"here," he extends a hand holding a bag to his older brother.

Quinn smiles in thanks and digs into it, retrieving shirt. but it's no ordinary shirt. it's one of those old, retro looking ones with your face blown out all over it.

pictures from red carpets, your album covers, and in gaudy, shadowy text, it reads: IF LOST, RETURN TO Y/N L/N.

Luke cackles as you bury your face in quinn's shoulder. he's letting out a deep, belly laugh as his parents smile and take pictures of it when he holds it out.

he immediately pulls off his sweatshirt and tugs the shirt on. it fits a little tight.

"merry christmas!" jack yells as he gives you a high-five.

he still wears that stupid shirt around the apartment, just because he knows you like the fit and your face plastered all over his chest.

3. y/n's songs about her boyfriend

through many new releases, we have determined a list of songs about quinn from her new album, lover.

sweet nothing

paper rings

lover

daylight

I think he knows

afterglow

good looking

wow, you think. these people must not have lives if they're rummaging through your digital footprint and media presence with your boyfriend just to link them with your songs.

2. quinn's interview

since the couple has gone public, y/n has been seen at Canuck's games with family and friends. since she's from vancouver, born and raised, she is passionate about hockey and fits right in.

video one: the jumbotron flashes your face an name; you're wearing quinn's canucks jersey, hair loose. you smile and flutter your fingers at the crowd that's going crazy. one the ice, quinn's teammates jostle and holler at him, and you blow him a kiss. he pretends to catch it, and the screaming in the stadium reaches a new level as the screen pans to him: he's pink and all smiley.

video two: the ref makes a call and you stand, throwing your hands up in the air, exasperated. you huff, sitting back down with your head in your hands. your friends watch on with disappointment, and the three of you let out complains.

video three: quinn grins while looking off camera in the middle of an interview, and the journalist laughs.

"your girl?" he asks, and quinn nods shyly.

"yeah, it's real nice to see her here supporting. I mean, she's really busy too with her tours, but it's nice to have her on my turf."

"I saw! she got really riled up for the penalty during the second period. she's wearing your jersey as well."

"yeah," he scratches his neck, scrunching his nose to hide the big ass smile on his face, "she looks great, eh?"

"glad to see her in her hometown, too."

"right. yeah, I love her so much."

you snicker at how love sick he looks, because early on in the relationship he followed you around like a clingy, lost puppy. he still does sometimes after a roadie or one of your tours. you love it.

1. karma is the guy on the rink, coming straight home to me

the internet broke when y/n changed one of the songs on her song list for her tour last year at rogers arena in vancouver: instead of "karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me", which is a reference to her ex, she changes it to better fix her new romance.

video: you dance through the song, your backup dancers clueless as you reach the line.

"karma is the guy on the rink, comin' straight home to me!" your voice breaks a little in a giggle at the end, your dancers shocked laughter and gasps visible from their faces that even an iPhone camera from 25 meters away can catch.

video two: quinn's in the tent with your parents and some of his teammates and their girlfriends, all of them are vibing to the music and dancing, most holding drinks in their hands.

when the line hits the speakers, everyone is screaming so loud and filming him, and he blushes so red that it spreads to his ears and neck, even in the dim light. his boys are slapping his back, and your dad gives him a high-five. he just smiles at you, dopey and deliriously happy in his shirt of your face and the 20 friendship bracelets your fans had made for him.

you remember that show perfectly, and the night after even better. you barely got any sleep because of his attentions, and your makeup artists spent nearly half an hour covering up the bruises on your neck and chest the next morning.

all in all, we can come to the conclusion that quinn hughes and y/n l/n are completely down bad for each other, like she teased in the song list of her unreleased album. we only hope for good things in the future for this famous couple!

you smile at the closing statement, sending it to quinn to read later in his hotel room.

he facetimes you that night, hair wet and eyes sleepy.

"that article was absolutely right. I am so down bad for you." he tells you seriously, with the promise of lots of love when he comes straight home to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

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

[seedlessmuffins]

yeah,,,,, no,,,,,,

[maybe-im-dark]

Canuck chronicles

Based on this post

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the faint rustling of Wade rummaging through the fridge and Logan nursing a beer at the counter. Logan leaned back, boots propped on the table as he sipped from his bottle. Wade emerged holding a sad-looking sandwich, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“So,” Wade began, mouth full of bread, “that guy in the store earlier? Total hoser, eh?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, caused a real kerfuffle when his card declined.”

Wade snorted, nearly choking on his sandwich. “Best part was when you told him to shut up. And then he got all puffed up like he was gonna fight you—with his Molson Muscle of all things!”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Idiot backed down real quick when i flexed my arms.”

From her spot in the armchair, Al cleared her throat loudly. “Alright, what in the hell are you two on about? Kerfuffle? Molson Muscle? Are you just making up words now, or did you finally fuck your brains out of existence?”

Wade turned to her, scandalized. “Al! These are real words. Canadian classics, baby! Haven’t you ever been north of the border?”

Al’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t need a geography lesson, Wade. I need you to speak English.”

Logan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “It’s English, all right. Just a little extra flavor.”

“Yeah, it’s like…maple syrup on toast,” Wade added helpfully. “Warm, sweet, sticky—”

Al held up a hand, cutting him off. “Enough about your weird Canadian word soup. Explain Molson Muscle to me.”

Logan grunted, swirling the last of his beer. “Means a guy with a big beerbelly. Molson is a cheap beer brand in Canada. And that guy had obviously one too many.”

“And kerfuffle?”

“Just a fuss,” Logan replied with a shrug. “A little commotion.”

Al groaned. “You two are insufferable. I don’t even know why I asked.”

Wade grinned, plopping onto the couch next to her. “You asked ‘cause you care. Deep down, Al, you wanna be part of the Great Canadian Lexicon.”

Al turned her head in his direction. “I want you to shut up.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter and grabbing another beer from the fridge. “She’s just chirpin’, Wade. Don’t take it personal.”

“Chirpin’?” Al echoed, exasperated.

“Trash talk,” Logan clarified, the smirk growing wider.

Wade grinned, throwing an arm around Al’s shoulders. “See, Al? You’re halfway to being an honorary Canuck already!”

“Get your arm off me, Wade,” Al snapped, though she didn’t push him away. “And don’t you dare teach me any more of your ridiculous slang.”

Wade exchanged a conspiratorial look with Logan, who shrugged casually.

“Sure thing, Al,” Wade said with a sly grin. “Wouldn’t wanna cause another kerfuffle.”

Logan snorted, and Al groaned, shaking her head. “I need new roommates.”

The two Canadians, unbothered, clinked their beers together and resumed their playful banter, leaving Al to mutter about where in life she had turned wrong to end up here.

[mommahughes19-23]

2 months - N.H

small note incase you dont know : (EDITED) Nina is Nico Hischiers sister irl and Sarah is Nico Daws girlfriend irl. NICO HISCHIER DOESNT HAVE A GF THAT I KNOW OF

momma.yn : from the late nights to early mornings, constantly having to pee, and wanting to kill everyone I think @nicohischier and I made a pretty cute baby 💓 Welcome to the world Sasha Hischier , you are already so loved

tagged : @nicohischier

nicohischier : the most amazing momma out there and thank you meine tochte (my daughter) for the past 2 months❤️‍🔥

dawson1417 : @momma.yn Ryleigh and me are so happy you popped, idk how much longer I could deal w your attitude

↪ nicodaws : for real , you drop ONE cookie and its over🤧

↪ momma.yn : EXCUSE ME FOR CARRYING LIFE AND BECOMING HORMONAL . NO CUDDLES FROM MY DAUGHTER FOR YOU @dawson1417 @nicodaws .

jesperbratt : I can't wait to convert her to a mini swede🇸🇪🇸🇪

↪ nichohischier : in your dreams buddy 🙅🏻 @jesperbratt

↪ tmeier96 : not about to let that happen sorry 🙅🏻 @jesperbratt

jackhughes : "omg jack that camera was the best baby shower gift I got" @momma.yn dw I know its how I do

↪ momma.yn : good riddance jacklynn😤🤫

↪ lhughes_06 : @jackhughes you act like you paid for it on your own bud 🤨

ninahischier : welcome to the family little one , Tante kann es kaum erwarten, dich zu verwöhnen 🤩😭 (aunty can't wait to spoil you)

↪ tmeier96 : Wer hat gesagt, dass du derjenige sein darfst, der sie verwöhnt? 🫷🏻🤡 (who said you get to be the one to spoil her)

sarakobel : dont listen to neeks babe, we are so happy for you two!💓💓💓

tofff73 : so when do I get to teach her to skate @momma.yn @nicohischier

↪ nicohischier : not even in your dreams bud @tofff73 🙅🏻🙅🏻🙅🏻

ehaula : 👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻

bssmith2 : 🤰🏻🤰🏻🤰🏻🤰🏻

john.marino97 : 🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨

pally_18 : vítej mé dítě (welcome my child)

A. N :

was supposed to be w quinner but I feel like Nico deserves some love too, I hope that's ok!

howdy there, this is part request/part based on the lil thing I posted earlier because my irl daughter turns 4 in 4 days and I MISS HER BEING SO SMALL. SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JASMINE EVERYONE -_- I FINALLY GOT HER A LIL DEVILS AND CANUCKS JERSEY omg shes gonna be the biggest hughes supporter there ever was. no we dont live in Canada or New Jersey so we can't go to home games but best believe when the panthers play either team INITIATE HER FIRST HOME GAME IN SOMETHING OTHER THAN A TKACHUK JERSEY BITCHES.

speaking of I prob won't be active Sunday or Monday because she has requested a princess hockey theme and idk wtf that means. also bc my ex sperm donor doesnt help im doing it solo.

any who Im off to do bath time where yes we will be watching nhl edits on tick tock. ( I swear I dont force her she just has a good eye like her mommy)

*EVERYTHING WAS GOOGLE TRANSLATED SO IF YOU HAPPEN TO SPEAK CHEZCH OR GERMAN PLEASE DONT COME FOR ME IF THEY ARE WRONG*

XOXOXOXOXO, M

TAGS: @lukey-pookie-hughes43 and @skylershines

[nhlclover]

goodnight n go | quinn hughes

summary: when your best friend begins to act distant you wonder if your harboured feelings have become exposed.

request: yes / no

warnings: angst, cursing

a/n: somewhat based on ‘goodnight n go’ by ariana grande. quinn looks so boyfriend in this gif

word count: 1.7k

It’s been 5 years since you watched your best friend get drafted by Vancouver. It was a dream come true for everyone. You watched from the sidelines as he played at Michigan, setting records for defensemen there, then as he started his professional career.

You’d accepted that you wouldn’t see him during the winter months, and you were okay with it. With you being from out of state, you only really saw Quinn during the summers at the lake house in Michigan.

Over time and the more you and Quinn got older, the more you realized what you once thought was just a schoolyard crush became something more intense.

You decided before the season finished that you were going to finally tell Quinn how you felt. You confided in Jack about your feelings, with the middle Hughes encouraging you to tell his brother how you felt.

However, from the moment he arrived at the lake house, you could tell something was off.

Quinn was quieter than normal. You’d wondered if it was because of the less-than-desirable season the Canucks had. They just barely escaped the bottom ten in the league and had traded away one of their best players. The season had taken a toll on Quinn and you could tell. But you were unsure if that was the whole reason.

Normally he would find solace in you, but you’d barely been able to hold a conversation with Quinn for more than a minute. Nothing seemed to get him to talk to you and you couldn’t figure out why. Part of you wondered if you’d somehow let on about your feelings towards him.

What if Quinn knew you liked him and he didn’t reciprocate the feelings, so he was distancing himself on purpose?

It was driving you nuts not knowing why your best friend wasn’t talking to you. You could barely hold him in a conversation for more than a minute before he would excuse himself, and he would barely acknowledge you in group conversations.

When you tried to ask Quinn if he still wanted to do your annual sunrise swim, something you’d done every year since you were twelve, he told you that he wasn’t really feeling up to it and then locked himself in his room for the next hour.

The entire week was like that. An attempt at conversation on your part was consistently met with a one-word answer and Quinn walking away.

Now you were watching Quinn say goodbye as he was going back to Vancouver early for pre-season.

Quinn hugged his mom and dad, then Jack before turning to you and your family. You watch him shake your father's hand before hugging your mother. He turns to you, seemingly holding his breath.

“I’ll uh… see you around.” He says.

You freeze, caught up in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, anger, and a little bit of embarrassment at the goodbye your best friend gave you.

Quinn picks up his bag, heading out the front door to where Luke is waiting in the car. The eyes of your family and the Hughes were on you. You could only bear to look at Jack, who raised his eyebrows, hinting at you to go after him.

You walk out behind Quinn, watching him walk to Luke’s car waiting in the driveway. “What the fuck?” You scream.

Quinn turns to you, a pained expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you.

“You come home, it’s my first time seeing you in almost a year after you ghost me for half of it, and then you don’t fucking speak to me the entire time.” You yell. You don’t care if the rest can hear you from inside or if Luke can hear what you’re saying. Every sentiment from the past week is bubbling up inside you now spilling out. “And now you don’t even hug me goodbye? 16 years of friendship and all I get is ‘see you around’?”

Quinn doesn’t offer an immediate reply, instead looking down at his shoes. You storm over, shoving the tall brunette boy by his shoulders. He stumbles backwards, dropping his duffle to the ground. “Y/n.” He says. His tone isn’t angry. It’s soft and almost remorseful.

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me.” You sneer, tears balancing on your bottom lashes. “Talk to me! Say something!”

“I don’t want to do this.” He says, grabbing the bag from the ground. He walks to the car, throwing the bag into the backseat.

“Fine.” You say, defeated. “Walk away. You’re a coward.”

He sighs, looking up at the sky. “Y/n.”

“No fucking go. You clearly don’t want to be friends or whatever the fuck we were so go.” You say, wiping away the tears streaming down your face.

Quinn’s expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “No! Just…” Your voice falters. “Go, Quinn. Please.”

He huffs, getting in the passenger seat. You watch Quinn and Luke discuss something quickly before the engine turns on and the car backs out of the driveway.

Your chest heaves with sobs as you run back into the house, past yours and Quinn’s families and up to your childhood bedroom. Walls lined with photos of Quinn and you from when you were in diapers to just last year, sitting by the campfire drinking beers. You let sobs rack your body as memories of your friendship from over the years flood your mind.

A soft knock on the door pauses your cries. The door clicks open and Jack's head pokes in. “Y/n?” He says softly.

You stick your head out from under your comforter, giving Jack a view of your red and puffy eyes, with tear-stained cheeks. He slipped in and shut the door behind him, lying down next to you.

“I’m sorry.” He says. You roll over, curling into his side.

“I just don’t understand.” You say.

“I don’t either, honestly,” Jack says.

“Does he not talk to you?” You asked.

Jack sighs. “It’s Quinn, remember? He doesn’t tell us much.”

Jack looks over at your face before laughing lightly. He grabs a tissue from the box on your side table, handing it to you. “You’ve got mascara and snot all over your face.” He says.

You give his shoulder a light shove, taking the tissue and wiping it around your eyes. Jack gets up from beside you, looking out the window that overlooks the front yard. You toss the tissue in the wastebasket, looking at Jack, who’s got a grin on his face.

“What are you looking at?” You ask him.

“Go downstairs.” He says, closing your curtains.

“What?”

“Go downstairs! Quickly!”

Jack yanks the blankets off you, pulling you up. You look back at Jack as you hear the sound of the front door opening and then clicking shut. He simply grins, shoving you towards the staircase. You walk down the stairs and to the front entrance, where you see Luke taking off his shoes.

“Luke?” You ask. It hasn’t been more than 15 minutes since he and Quinn had gone to the airport, even though the airport’s almost half an hour away.

“He’s outside, please don’t put me in this again.” He says, walking to the living room.

You walk outside seeing Quinn, standing on the walkway. His bag is by his feet, a nervous air surrounding him. “Why are you here?” You ask.

“I couldn’t go.” He says. His eyes are pained but there’s a small smile on his face.

“What?” You asked.

Quinn steps forward, his wide stride stopping him right before you. “I fucked up. Big time, believe me, I know.” He says. “I was so scared to tell you how I felt in fear of ruining this…us. I mean we’re Quinn and y/n. We’re supposed to be best friends till the end, right?”

Quinn’s words confuse you, not understanding where his sudden change of attitude came from or what point he was trying to make.

“What are you saying, Quinn?” You ask.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He says.

Your heart pounds against your rib cage, heat rising to your cheeks. The words you’ve been wanting to hear from your best friend's mouth for years.

“And I don’t even know if you feel the same, but I can’t leave knowing you didn’t know,” Quinn says. “I love you, y/n, and I have for years.”

Your instincts drive you and suddenly your hands are on his face, your lips pressed together. It takes a second for Quinn to recognize what is happening but when he does, his hands are on your sides. His stubble scratches your chin slightly, but you don’t mind. He pulls you into him, deepening the kiss.

You pull back suddenly, stepping out of Quinn’s grasp. “Wait.” You say. “I don’t understand, you have been a dick to me this entire week. Why?”

“I was scared, y/n.” He says. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were sixteen. I thought I was over you, finally, but when I saw you last summer, I realized I was more in love with you than I’d ever been. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I was so scared of losing you if you didn’t feel the same, that I just assumed cutting you out of my life was easier.”

“Why would you ever think that was the easiest option?” You ask, throwing your hands up.

“I don’t know! I… I don’t know.” He says, defeated. He hangs his head, looking down at his shoes.

You sigh at Quinn’s mild stupidity. You place a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at you. His soft eyes are the same as when you were 9 and you had dared Quinn to kiss you, only to run when he tried.

“Not having you in my life is the last thing I ever want to happen. I don’t care if we hate each other's guts. All I need is to have your eyes in my life.” You say.

Quinn scoops you up, holding your body against his. His lips crash into yours, desperate to share your air. Your arms wrap around his neck, your toes just barely touching the ground. You’re tentative and careful, just lightly brushing your lips against his. Quinn leans in further, needing your lips on his.

The living room window being cracked open releases the squeals of your mothers, happy to see the two of you finally realizing what the rest of them realized when you were just kids.

[buttercupjosh]

Jump Then Fall (The 4 times everyone else thinks you’re Quinn’s romantic partner and the 1 time you actually are)

(Gif credit to @gabelandeskog)

Word count: 5,045

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers

Warnings: none

A/N: I’ve had this specific idea in my mind for about 2 years but never wrote it out because I decided to write other things first and took certain things from this concept and kinda put it into my other stories but after Quinn was named captain in September 2023, I decided to write it out. (Speaking of my other stories, I did write a Quinn fic in 2022, which you should check out). The title and this story is based off of the song, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift. It’s set from this past week (October 7th-14th), with additional fictional elements added. (Yes, I decided to publish it on Quinn's birthday because why not?) It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“I was enchanted to meet you” -Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Prologue

Losing in a fantasy sports league can come with many different types of punishment, whether it’s being forced to eat a pancake for every wrong player you picked or putting in extra money in the winning jackpot. Your punishment for losing in the fantasy sports league you participated in was wearing a very 2014 Tumblr-esque “lol ur not Quinn Hughes” shirt that your best friend got you as a gag gift for Christmas to a Canucks game. This punishment came at a convenient time when you already planned to be in Vancouver for a work conference. Accepting your fate, you proudly donned the cringey t-shirt at the game, and as expected, people did look at you weirdly. What you didn’t plan at all was that your game seats happened to be located next to where a group of some of the Canucks WAGs were sitting. Lenasia, Ethan Bear’s fiance, noticed your shirt and immediately began talking to you. You explained to her why you were wearing such a thing and that clicked an idea in her brain. Lenasia turned away, began talking again to the other WAGs she was with, and was also frantically texting someone. After a brief period, Lenasia faced back towards you and told you to wait after the game because she had a surprise for you. You had a slight inkling of what that surprise was but silently hoped that it didn’t actually come true. 

After the game was completed, Lenasia led you through the tunnels of Rogers Arena and told security that you were with her. It felt weird to hear her say that, considering that you just met her a few hours ago. You stood together outside of the Canucks locker room and the feeling of embarrassment continued to rise within you as the guys filed out, some of them laughed at your shirt and then, you saw him. Quinn was right there, less than 10 feet away from you. Your suspicions were right; you would have just settled for a signed item from him and have no interaction with him but you were actually going to meet him right now. You felt like you were going to pass out but tried your best to maintain your composure. Lenasia introduced you to Quinn and told him the same story of why you were wearing a shirt with his name on it. Quinn didn’t fully quite understand why the shirt was such a big deal but agreed to take the photo with you. He was nice enough to wrap his arm around you with a side hug and being that close together oddly felt natural and comfortable for two people who had just met for the first time. After the photo was finished being taken, Quinn kindly offered to sign your shirt so he inked his signature on your right shoulder. You thanked Quinn and Lenasia again for everything and left to return to your hotel. It was a lot to process but you were rightfully shocked that you started your night fulfilling some silly punishment and ended it by meeting the person whose name is on your shirt.

The following day, you sent the photo of you and Quinn from the night before to your friends and your friends joked in the groupchat that if you played your cards right, you might be next in line to date him. Yes, you posted about it on Instagram and tagged Quinn so everyone knew you actually met him. Since the day after you met was an off day, Quinn had some time to scroll through Instagram and he saw your post. Seeing your post led him to see all of your posts and eventually, he ended up in your DMs.

Do you always look that cute wearing someone’s name?, an Instagram message from a very familiar verified account read. You couldn’t believe it and thought you were somehow dreaming when you read Quinn’s message but it was very much real. You replied back: I guess I always do but I only wear the names of attractive guys and considering this is my only piece that has an athlete’s name, I guess you should consider yourself lucky ;) It felt odd to shamelessly flirt with a famous athlete (considering that most of them wouldn’t give you the time of day anyway) but it wasn’t like you were actually going to date him or be his friend anyway (or so you had thought).

The flirty interaction eventually led to the exchange of numbers and to a long message chain between the two of you that would extend on for months. You did return home from your trip to Vancouver and maintained a long-distance friendship with Quinn. Your friendship with Quinn was great; you trusted each other, shared some secrets, did virtual movie nights together sometimes, sent memes back and forth, told some of your closest friends and family about the other, and communicated on the phone constantly. Once of your favorite things to do with Quinn was that he would always call you during your morning commute to work and on his commute home after his games to decompress after the game. Since you didn’t live in an area where there was an NHL team, your options for seeing Quinn again in person were limited and you weren’t sure if you were going to ever see him again. It felt weird to ask about seeing each other in real life so everything was just kept online until one day, the timing was right to move things offline.

————————————————————

About a year into your friendship, the right opportunity opened up for you to return to Vancouver to see Quinn again. To the delight of many, Quinn was named Captain of the Canucks and he invited you out to his first game as Captain. You were important enough to him that Quinn wanted you to be there to celebrate that amazing accomplishment; you were surprised by the invitation but excited at the prospect of seeing him again. You used some of your remaining vacation time and paid for your plane ticket to and from Vancouver; Quinn wanted to pay for something so he placed you to stay in the nicest hotel that Vancouver has to offer. You were thrilled to spend a week in Vancouver and hopefully make some fun memories with Quinn while you were there.

Your anticipation for seeing him was slightly halted when Quinn revealed that he couldn’t pick you up from the airport because your flight arrived at the same time that he had captain responsibilities to fulfill in the community so you and Quinn agreed to meet to have dinner later on that evening. Emma, Anthony Beauvillier’s girlfriend, picked you up from the airport to take you to the hotel; you had never met or interacted with Emma before but you appreciated her kind favor. The drive from Vancouver International Airport to the hotel (which Quinn did not tell you beforehand because he wanted it to be a surprise) was normally a 30-minute drive, which turned into an hour drive due to traffic. While you and Emma waited in the rush hour traffic, you talked and learned more about her, her relationship with Anthony, what things are like in Quebec, and what it’s like to be a hockey WAG. Emma had a lot of questions about your relationship with Quinn and was curious as to why you, his romantic partner, weren’t around as much before. You corrected Emma by telling her that you and Quinn were just friends and nothing more and you came to support him as your friend. 

“Are you sure you and Quinn are just friends because he must really like you a lot to pay for you to stay here?”, Emma asked as you pulled up to the Fairmount Waterfront hotel.

You replied yes, you were just his friend and she handed you over your room keys that were passed to her through the chain of command. You thanked Emma for giving you a ride and you both mentioned wanting to hang out with each other again.

Quinn was not kidding when he told you that you would be staying at the best hotel in Vancouver; your room had spectacular views of the Vancouver Harbor and was very fancy. As you got ready for your dinner with Quinn, you began to reflect on your conversation with Emma about him. You could admit that he was endearingly handsome and had qualities that you were looking for in a boyfriend but you and Quinn never really discussed romantic pursuits and outside of that initial flirty exchange when you first started talking to each other and the occasional compliment, there wasn’t much flirting really going on between you. You had always assumed that Quinn had someone, whether it was someone in Vancouver or in Michigan, waiting in the wings for him. Your thoughts were interrupted when you got a text from Quinn that he was coming up to the room. It was happening; for the first time in over a year, you got to see your internet best friend in person and you were ecstatic. Although he had a copy of the hotel room key, Quinn knocked on your hotel room door and a smile beamed across both of your faces as you recognized who was standing at the doorway. Quinn engulfed you in a long-awaited hug and you rocked back and forth. There were many areas in his life that made him feel delighted but hearing you laugh was one of the best sounds to him and holding you in his arms was the greatest feeling.

After separating, you realized that Quinn was dressed for a night in while you were dressed for a night out. The weather app indicated that a storm was rolling in so Quinn dressed to stay in at the hotel, order food, and have a movie night, while you were willing to brave the rain to try some of Vancouver’s cuisine. Quinn thought that you looked nice and wished that he communicated to you that Vancouver storms were no joke and you looking cute in your rain jacket wasn’t going to push him to go out in such weather either. He also really wanted to spend time with you without the distractions that come from him going out in public. You agreed to order in and changed into more comfy clothes while you waited for the food to arrive. Preseason hockey was over so Quinn decided to treat himself (and you) to some authentic Chinese food from his favorite place. As you and Quinn indulged on the delicious Chinese food, you began catching up with each other on what had occurred in your lives recently. As Quinn shared what had been going on his life lately, you heard all of the words he was saying but the only thing you were thinking about was how you just wanted to be together and you would lose focus sometimes as he spoke. You and Quinn kept talking so much on so many different topics that it was almost midnight before you decided to watch a movie. You settled on watching Ferris Buller’s Day Off before drifting off to sleep.

————————————————————

For Quinn, it felt surreal to wake up the following morning next to you. After being in contact with you for over a year, here you were, right there, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed. Throughout the night, Quinn was respectful of your boundaries and no lines were crossed, everything was kept PG. You were awoken by the sound of water running coming from the bathroom and waited for Quinn to emerge out. After he came out of the bathroom, you discussed the day’s plan (which there wasn’t really one) and decided to go to breakfast at a very special place. Quinn still had some time off before the first game of the season so you had even more extra time to spend with him.

On the car ride to the restaurant, you began to imagine what it would be like to live in Vancouver. Sure, this wasn’t your first time there but you saw it in a different light as you were gazing outside of the car window with Quinn by your side. You arrived at your destination and Quinn got out and kindly came around to open the door for you; it was a sweet gesture that he didn’t have to do.

The restaurant was the same cafe that Quinn and Petey tended to frequent and the wait staff at the restaurant was so familiar with him, down to the point that they knew his exact order: plain buttermilk waffles topped with whipped cream, strawberries, raspberries, and sides of bacon, potatoes, and guacamole. The waitress, an older woman named Louise, reminded you of an endearing grandmother figure; she even put your meal on the house as a treat. After the meal concluded and you were on the way back to Quinn’s car, a fan was waiting right outside of the restaurant for an opportunity to meet the captain of their favorite team. The fan approached you, Quinn’s romantic partner, to take their photo together. You wanted to correct the fan for being wrong but you also could tell that Quinn wanted to get going so you let it be; besides, Quinn didn’t even hear the fan address you as his lover. Quinn later on apologized for the fan encounter but it wasn’t an issue for you, you understood who he was and the things that came with being a famous athlete and you expected something like that might happen while you were together. You continued on the rest of your spontaneous day, being touristy around Vancouver, visiting Gastown, Stanley Park, and Granville Island with the cutest tour guide.

————————————————————

Your time in Vancouver coincided with Canadian Thanksgiving. Dinner is usually held at the team captain’s house and since Quinn is the captain, dinner would be held at his place but since his apartment couldn’t quite hold the entire team, Tyler Myers offered to host dinner at his home. It was exciting to celebrate a holiday together and learn more about each other’s Thanksgiving traditions but it also made you feel a little nervous because you would be meeting more of Quinn’s teammates and spending time with their families. The Canucks team’s Thanksgiving dinner was potluck style and everyone had to bring something so you and Quinn offered to bring a dessert. You decided to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and Quinn graciously purchased the ingredients for you and let you use his kitchen. Quinn was a good sous chef; he actually enjoyed baking with you and you both had fun together. You even got into a little squabble over who would wash the dishes before agreeing that you would wash them and Quinn would dry them. After the cookies were done, you both got ready for dinner. 

On the car ride over to the Myers house, your mind began to wander, contemplating about the domestic moment you shared earlier with Quinn and how you would want more moments like that with him. Quinn felt the same way but wasn’t sure how to verbally tell you that. Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination. You casually mixed and mingled with the other Canucks players and their families; as expected, some of the players had kids and the kids were curious to know who you were and you explained to them that you were Quinn’s friend. Tristan, Tyler’s son, asked if you were Quinn’s lover friend and you were going to tell him no but you were interrupted by the message that dinner was about to be served so you let it go.

Despite your initial nervousness about the event, dinner actually went well and your cookies were a hit. The other Canucks players and their wives and girlfriends accepted you well into their group; they liked you for you and they liked you with Quinn. Due to the fact he’s their captain, some of the guys pushed Quinn into giving a speech and he expressed his thankfulness and gratitude on such a special holiday; he even looked at you when he mentioned how glad he was to have the people in the room as a part of his life.

During the post-dinner relaxation time, you and Quinn settled into watching the CFL game that was on before Tristan came up to ask the both of you to play hide and seek with him and his sister, Skylar. The football game wasn’t that interesting to either of you so you both agreed to play. Since you were the guest, the kids had you count first. 

As you were looking to see where Quinn and the kids were hiding, you observed around the Myers home and began to think about how this was something that you had desired to have one day; a home full of love, laughter, and children. You checked the guest room closet to see if anyone was hiding in there before greeting Quinn by shouting BOO as soon as you opened the door. Instead of stepping out to help you find Skylar and Tristan, Quinn pulled you back into the closet and shut the door for a quiet moment alone. Quinn’s heart was beating super fast, not just because you inflicted fear into him for a brief second, but also because you were close to each other inside the dark closet. You obviously couldn’t see in the darkness but Quinn kept staring at the presumed outline of your mouth because he wanted pull you closer and kiss you so bad. Quinn almost had his chance to ask but was interrupted by the sound of children’s feet pattering on the ground and the door opening. Tristan quickly corrected you that as the counter, you were not allowed to hide until it was your turn to hide. An all-too-familiar chuckle came out of Quinn and you rolled your eyes at him since he was the one who caused you to break the rules before playing another round of hide and seek with the kids.

When it was time to say goodbye, Tristan and Skylar came over to give you a departing hug and Tristan loudly said that he had fun with you, Quinn’s special friend. It warmed your heart to hear his little voice say that to you. Before dropping you off back at the hotel, you had asked Quinn if he was going to stop and get his annual Thanksgiving apple pie slice from the bakery. He had mentioned his Thanksgiving tradition to you only once but it meant a lot to him that you had remembered that. Due to the fact that you made dessert from scratch, Quinn forgot to pick up the pie beforehand to bring to the party and the bakery with the pie that he enjoyed was already closed, but it was okay. Quinn didn’t mind skipping his tradition because he got to make a new memory with you. You and Quinn had such a good time at the Thanksgiving dinner and you had quietly hoped to get the opportunity to spend more holidays together.

————————————————————

The Canucks home opener was finally here. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking for Quinn; he knew that this day was coming but it felt a little more surreal that it was actually here. Quinn’s parents, Ellen and Jim, even flew in to watch their son receive his official captaincy before jetting off to go watch Jack and Luke at the Devils home opener the following day. You felt a bit of deja vu being back at Rogers Arena, since that was the place you and Quinn had met over a year ago, but that deja vu feeling came in a good way. It was fun to watch warmups with the other WAGs and you got to see Emma again. As warmups went on, you held J.T. Miller’s son, Owen, in your arms while Natalie Miller held her daughters, Scarlett and Scottlyn, closer to the glass to give them a better view to see their father on the ice. Since the day was very busy for Quinn, the only time he got to see you was for a brief second during warmups. Quinn’s heart swelled up with joy when he saw you at the glass, holding baby Owen and he also thought you looked so stunning and beautiful in your outfit. He wanted to pass you a puck but instead, he gave you a quick wink and passed a puck to a young fan with a sign and continued to skate around. 

Warmups were over and the game was about to start soon so you went up to your seats. Instead of having you sit with the other WAGs, Quinn got you a ticket next to his parents. Of course, Quinn wanted you to meet his parents for the first time in a much more formal way but due to the limited time that you all had in Vancouver, it was slightly more convenient for you to meet his parents while at the game. It was a little awkward at first to meet Quinn’s parents because you were just Quinn’s long-distance friend and meeting the parents is a big deal but Jim and Ellen already knew who you were because you were important enough to their son that he had told them about you. Ellen mentioned to you that she suspected you were dating Quinn because he spoke so highly about you, indicating a possible crush but always shut it down by mentioning that you were just friends.

When it was time for Quinn to be introduced as captain, you got delightful goosebumps on your body because you were so proud of him. You already knew he was captain but watching some of the old Canucks captains pass the torch over to one of your best friend’s brought a rush of happiness to you; your heart even skipped a beat as he put on the jersey with the “C” on it. The game itself was amazing; the Canucks beat the Oilers 8 to 1 and Quinn had a 3-point night. Throughout little moments during the game, Jim and Ellen would ask you different questions about yourself and share tidbits about Quinn; it was nice that they were actively engaging and getting to know you. You were worried that Jim and Ellen wouldn’t like you as a person and for their son but it turns out that they enjoyed your presence and it also didn’t hurt that it was really fun to cheer for Quinn alongside his parents.

After the game was over, you, Jim, and Ellen walked down the same tunnels to the Canucks dressing room that you had walked to over a year ago when you met Quinn for the first time but this time, you weren’t as nervous to see him. Still experiencing the high from the evening’s successful game, Quinn was so ecstatic to see you, waiting for him with his beloved parents. When Quinn had invited you to come to his game, he had imagined seeing you again in those familiar halls with his parents in his mind and that moment of imagination came true. In his post-game interview, Quinn had mentioned that he would hold onto the night’s memories forever and you would also hold onto those memories in your own way too.

————————————————————

Since the Canucks had to leave for a roadtrip after their home opener and you were leaving soon, you had one last day to both celebrate Quinn’s birthday early and also to do something to say farewell to you. Instead of just a big fancy birthday/goodbye dinner, you and Quinn decided to go out for a day on the golf course and out to a casual dinner afterward; you also had to run a few errands because Quinn needed to grab some things before leaving on his upcoming road trip. Quinn picked you up to go with him to drop off his parents at the airport so that you could see them again and he wanted your opinion on some things when he went to IKEA. The car ride over to the airport was fine and Jim and Ellen didn’t mind getting in some extra time with their potential child-in-law. You and Quinn stepped out of the car to help with their bags and give his parents a goodbye hug. While you were giving the Hughes family some space and waiting in the car, Ellen whispered in her son’s ear that you were a keeper. His mother was right and Quinn had known that from the moments that he spent with you, the conversations you shared together and you were everything he ever wanted. Quinn had the keys to unlock your heart but he just needed to use them. Throughout the entire time you were there, Quinn began mentally preparing himself to confess his feelings for you somehow but those plans always fell flat because the anxiety of not being sure if you liked him romantically lingered throughout the air and he was scared to ruin the friendship you shared. He was falling for you hard but he was afraid to take that leap.

With one final wave goodbye, Jim and Ellen left for their flight to New Jersey and you and Quinn continued on the day’s itinerary. Goodbyes were always going to be a bit difficult, no matter who or what you were saying goodbye to. Quinn tried to not wear his heart on his sleeve and be strong but you could tell that Quinn was sad to see his parents go so you reached over and gently placed your hand on top of his. Quinn told you thank you and you shared a quick glance with him before arriving at IKEA. Instead of immediately telling you how he felt, you and Quinn aimlessly wandered around the large store; you had mentioned to Quinn that his apartment was missing a floor lamp in the living room so that he didn’t have to use the overhead ceiling light as much and he took you to IKEA to help him pick one out. Thursday afternoons at IKEA were quiet so it was almost like you and Quinn had the whole store to yourselves. As you walked through the store, you and Quinn looked at the different room setups and asked each other what you liked and disliked about each room setup; you also both began to imagine what it would be like to share a home together. Quinn even absentmindedly grabbed onto your hand and your fingers interlocked together for a brief second before you found the lamps and slipped your hand away to look at them. You picked out a black floor lamp that matched the aesthetic of Quinn’s apartment and continued to wander around the store until you reached the cash register. Quinn didn’t try to hold your hand again and neither of you brought up that moment for the rest of the day. Your time at the golf course was fun; being the self-proclaimed golf expert he was, Quinn did win the game. 

Quinn decided that he wanted to have his birthday dinner/last meal with you at Moxie’s. While you waited for your food to arrive, you gave Quinn his birthday gift. It was challenging to get a gift for someone who could afford plenty and rarely mentioned what they wanted so you got Quinn a signed copy of Golf Kitchen, a cookbook that included recipes from some of the most famous golf clubs around the world, and a grill set that looked like golf items; it combined two of his interests: cooking and golf. Quinn was a bit taken aback by your gift because you didn’t have to actually get him anything; your presence and time spent with him was a gift within itself. He had mentioned it before but Quinn was so grateful to have you as a part of his life and he was going to miss you tremendously once you returned home. You would miss him so much and were sad that your great time with Quinn was coming to an end; you still had an extra full day in Vancouver before your flight early Saturday but the Canucks were leaving for Edmonton on Friday after morning skate. 

After dinner, Quinn walked you up to your hotel room and you and Quinn continued to soak up all of the time you had left together as much as you could before the inevitable departure came. Before leaving, Quinn passed you a signed warm-up puck from last night’s game, mentioning that he owed it to you. You held the piece of rubber in your hand, smoothing your fingers over his signature.

“So now, you own two things with my name on it”, Quinn cheesily told you. 

You were trying to hold back your tears and masquerade your emotions but you began to sob while embracing Quinn for one last time. Quinn felt a bit emotional too and he blurted out that he was in love with you; he decided to be brave and not let the fear take over. You thought your mind was playing a trick on you when you heard him so you looked up at the green eyes that were staring and waiting for a reply from you.

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”, you hesitantly asked.

“Um, maybe I should have kept that to myself. I’m sor-”, Quinn rambled.

You cut Quinn off with a kiss, something that he had been waiting a while to experience with you. You repeated that you had loved Quinn back as well. A long wave of relief rushed over the both of you; the jump was worth the fall and you were there to catch him. You didn’t have to say it out loud but Quinn knew that you would always be there for him. Quinn asked if you were available to come back to visit him for Christmas and New Year’s. Maybe losing in a fantasy league wasn’t so bad after all.

[starry-hughes]

christmas wrapping (quinn hughes)

day 25 of star’s ficmas

quinn hughes x reader

note: merry christmas! after posting fics for 25 days straight, i’m extremely proud of myself. i had a lot going on during these 25 days and i was convinced that i was going to give up but it made me have a goal for every day.

with that being said, welcome to the final fic. if you don’t understand the title, please refer to my FAVORITE christmas song by the waitresses christmas wrapping, in which this entire fic is based off of. i’ve been working on this for a while.

thank you for sticking around for 25 days!

It didn’t feel like Christmas. You were in a humbug spirit all month long, despite it being your absolute favorite holiday. Typically, by the month of December, you had presents bought and wrapped before the first week of the month ended.

You didn’t have somewhere to be on the holiday. Last year at Christmas, you were in a ski shop. Your friends had planned a whole ski trip which is where you met Quinn Hughes. Quinn had struck up the conversation and you both discovered you were living in Vancouver. At the end of the conversation, Quinn was giving you his phone number.

You fully intended on calling Quinn. But there was never the time. Between your work and own things, and his busy schedule, it was never lining up. When the season in the spring was picking up for Quinn, it was the time that you just so happened to reach out to him. You asked if lunch was something possible.

Quinn was all for lunch. He wanted to see you. The alluring individual he met in a ski shop when avoiding his brothers’ antics out in the snow. You suggested the first date, he was in Carolina that day. The date he suggested, you were on a work trip in Montreal. After the back and forth and exchange of at least ten different days in the spring, nothing was working out. Both of you laughed it off, promising to keep in touch for when schedules got light and times would match up better.

The next time you would hear from Quinn would be the summertime. You were returning from a weekend trip with some friends to the beach, but on your trip, you had forgotten an important item. Sunscreen. You had horrible sun blisters and it hurt to even lay in bed. Quinn normally didn’t spend the summer in Vancouver but he was there briefly for a little, visiting some friends, when he invited you to a boat day on the lake. You wanted to attend so bad, you were still wanting to meet with Quinn again, see if the spark was still there from December of last year. Sadly, you had to decline, sending him a picture of you with aloe slathered on your face, telling him it was sunburn in the third degree keeping you from joining him.

Quinn understood, no one would ever want to sit under the scorching sun after getting severe sunburn. There were no hard feelings but he was wishing he could see you.

You finally took the time to call all your friends who had invited you over for Christmas. Declining all the invites, making phone calls to all the parties you were asked to RSVP to. It had been a crazy year and you had decided it would be your first Christmas alone. It was a hard decision but it was needed.

You thought back to Halloween. Quinn had invited you to the Canucks Halloween party at Brock Boeser’s house. He was supposed to pick you up. You were sitting in your apartment for a while, costume on, handing out candy to the few kids who knocked on your door. Quinn was exasperated when he called. Of course this would be the night his car battery died. His friends were already all at the party and there was no one to help him. He promised he wasn’t bailing on purpose and you told him it was okay and believed his word. Guess another time would have to do.

You had grocery shopped for your small Christmas dinner days in advance. The moment you decided to eat and celebrate alone, you picked up everything. A small turkey was in the oven, resting, while you put together other items. You cursed to yourself, of course you’d forget cranberry sauce. And it was Christmas Eve, meaning all the last minute shoppers would be at the store. It was windy and rainy in Vancouver, a gloomy Christmas. Slipping on your rain boots and coat, you made it down to the nearest store.

Quinn wasn’t used to spending the holidays alone. But one mistake in his family and their booking of flights and he was alone. Honestly, he preferred it. He needed the time to recharge. After being named captain of his hockey team and his team doing pretty well, he deserved time to himself. He didn’t have a big dinner planned, declining all invites from his teammates.

He had waited until the last minute to buy most things and fought through the last minute crowds to get everything in the morning to make dinner for himself tomorrow on Christmas Day. But while emptying his grocery bags, he realized he forgot cranberry sauce. He trudged through to the store down the street from his apartment.

You couldn’t exactly put your finger on where you knew him from when you first saw him. You were standing in line, cranberry sauce in hand when Quinn joined the line right next to yours. You smiled at him and he immediately knew it was you. He joined in you line.

“Spending this Christmas alone?” you questioned. “Yeah it’s been crazy,” he responded.

“Yeah me too, but why are you at the store..” your voice trailed off, “you forgot cranberry too!”

Quinn and you both laughed and then at the same time, it clicked. Christmas magic from the movies. “My dinner is almost done, if you want to come over,” you suggested. “I’d love that,” he paid for both cans of cranberry sauce. “Tomorrow, you can eat dinner at my place if you want,” he said.

You nodded and the two of you made the way out of the grocery store together and down to your apartment. “I feel bad, we don’t have gifts to unwrap,” you said. “I guess cranberries work. Or maybe a toothbrush depending if I stay the night.”

[atwhughesversion]

welcome to atwhughesversion ♡

making a true intro to this blog now that hockey season is nearing!

about me ✩

my name is hannah

i go by she/her pronouns

23

i live on vancouver island in bc, canada

i recently graduated w a bsc in biology and want to go back for a masters in public health once i’ve worked for a bit

this is a new blog, but i’ve been on tumblr on-and-off since the superwholock days haha

what i’ll post about ☾

this is mainly a canucks blog :) i’ve been a fan for my whole life and was practically raised by sedins hockey. my 2024-2025 canucks bingo!

in no particular order my fav canucks are demko, petey, quinn, and brock (i love the whole team tho)

some of my fav players from other teams are leon draisaitl, nico hischier, and matthew tkachuk!

may occasionally talk about other interests/hobbies/sports, especially if there’s team canada stuff happening :) the pwhl team i root for the most is montreal, but i’m hoping they expand to the west in the future!

hobbies/interests ✩

reading (especially fantasy)

crocheting

hiking

bullet journaling

music, especially taylor swift, lorde, and isak danielson

tags ☾

canucks lb for blogging during games! i watch almost every game live aside from the ones that occur at odd hours thus during my work day (and i do get migraines which sometimes flare up when i watch a lot of tv)

*insert team* lb for live-blogging any other games — the canucks are the only team i follow in-depth so i won’t do this for every game, but i like to watch what i can!

hannah talks for general posts where i’m just yapping

hannah reads 📚 for posts about books/reading!

get to know me further ✩

i’m not like super important or anything haha and this isn’t a submission-based blog but still feel free so send me asks and/or messages!! i love talking to people and getting to know mutuals <3

i don’t have a sportsnet radio host level of knowledge about the canucks, but i do have a firm grasp of the team since i’ve followed them for so long!! i also know nhl rules really well by this point (which is made extra clear to me whenever i try to watch football and have no clue wtf is going on 😭), so if u have any questions/comments abt any of that stuff i’m happy to chat/rant!

— hannah 💓

[sophsicle]

hello! so recently i've been wanting to get into nhl and i want to find a team to follow but i have NO idea which teams i should look at so if you have any recommendations it would be greatly appreciated <3

i feel like this is such an individual thing, like usually the first thing that determines your NHL team is regional bias

so idk where you live but if it's in North America that'll probably help you

for example, no American team is ever gonna be my team

the only sort of exception I'll make is for the Colorado Avalanche because i simply feel they are Canadian, due to Nathan MacKinnon, Cale Makar and also their logo is like snow so *canada*

also while we are here, the Avs are a good choice, they try so hard, and are so serious and are such good, good lil boys, Nate MacKinnon's greatest fear is letting everyone down (and by everyone I mean Sidney Crosby)

The HABs or the Montreal Canadians are my favourite team, they statistically play better the more frenchie they are, which is not really relevant to anything but i personally think it is funny.

are they a good team? no. but are they precious? yes. just a bunch of bumbling lil bbs trying to find their way. and Nick Suzuki has been left in charge and he is like a very tired older brother, trying to keep track of his leash kid Cole and his bad boy younger brother slafkovsky

(leash kid)

(bad boi)

(exhausted older brother, he is like 24 but has the soul of a 45 year old, these hooligans have aged him)

I ALSO, must confess, i do like the Toronto Maple Leafs, yeah they are obnoxious, but also, the team has good vibes, and plus, they are CURSED! and who doesn't love a good curse?! the Leafs haven't won the playoffs in 56 years, which i believe is the longest any team in any professional sport has gone without winning a championship. but the REAL kicker, is that they are objectively a good team. a great team even. yet they simply did something to offend the gods and therefore the odds are never in their favour.

You have the slutty swede aka William Nylander, has sex 3 hours before the game, catches the subway down to the rink, is always in some state of undress, a true man of the people

You have Auston Matthews, scores so many goals (69 to be precise, which is funny and also tragic), also has been known to be a snarky boi with the press and the refs

ANd then you have the most tragic member of the most tragic team, Mitch Marner, who is just a lil guy, playing for his home town team, with a controlling father and a very high salary that makes the press and the fans HATE him, this boy can do no right, it doesn't matter how hard he tries

(also him and auston are best friends and soulmates SO)

BUT YEAH, honestly, choosing a hockey team is something so personal and mostly you just have to start picking ones based on random feelings and then getting deep into their lore

(honourable mentions: The canucks cause Quinn Hughes is a gem)

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (149-150)

In which Jared is the last to find out about his sister's new boyfriend, and he takes it just as calmly as you'd expect.

If you would like to follow along the series page is here.

“Um,” Jared says, when he opens the front door of their apartment to find Bryce beaming right at him.

Like, right at him. Like if Jared had swung open the door without paying attention he might have smacked Bryce right in his beautiful face.

Literally ran to the door like a puppy hearing its human come home.

“I’m allowed to train again!” Bryce says.

“Like,” Jared says. “Very carefully?”

“Very carefully,” Bryce confirms, and then, as if he’s trying to completely undermine Jared’s confidence that he’ll take that advice seriously, bolts into the living room at high speed.

A puppy with the zoomies.

Jared catches “—sorry, had to tell Jared—“, which he thinks means Bryce literally dropped everything to tell him, everything presumably being a call with Elaine. Though it could be someone else, Jared supposes. Theoretically.

“—love you too, mom,” Bryce says, then reappears so quickly Jared thinks he bolted right back.

Zoom zoom. (To no one’s surprise, he did — albeit with ‘one sec I think Jared’s home’ first. Elaine didn’t mind)

“Come on!” Bryce says, and that’s how Jared caps off an entire day at the gym by going to another, closer gym, and trying not to helicopter husband, partly because they’re in public, and partly because Bryce might bite his head off if he gets between him and the equipment after a long absence.

Relationship with Jared over, now gym equipment is Bryce’s best friend.

Jared says nothing, even when a piece of penne lands on the carpet. Bryce is too happy about all the complaining he’s doing to deflate him. And it’s not like Jared’s worried Bryce is going to go hungry.

He does, however, make Bryce clean the pasta up, because if he didn’t he’s pretty sure Bryce would literally not even notice it was there. He has to do it again himself after Bryce does a half-assed job and then puts his nose right in his phone. Thank fuck it wasn’t a tomato based sauce or their carpet would be toast. Why do they even have a carpet? They’re clearly not responsible enough for one.

Seriously, carpet should have disqualified the place.

“Uh, J?” Bryce says. “You might want to check twitter?”

“Signing?” Jared asks on his way back from the kitchen. It’s getting around that time where some of the stragglers realise a contract-less season is imminent and take whatever offers are still available. That or teams realise they’re missing a key piece of the picture and start looking into what’s available and affordable. “Trade?”

“Um,” Bryce says, his whole body a wince, which is — concerning. “Just look?”

No fucking way Bryce is telling him, you can’t make him.

“Did they trade Gabe?” Jared asks.

They can’t trade Gabe. Gabe’s franchise, one of only two players from that Cup season still on the Canucks. He’s a fan favourite, and a sizeable contingent of their younger fans don’t remember a team without him. It’s pretty much an open secret he wants to spend his entire career in Vancouver, and that’s mutual. Also Stephen would fight management. Possibly literally.

Also Jared would be sad, so clearly it’s not allowed.

It has to be someone on the team who means more to Jared than they do to Bryce, considering it’s something Bryce thinks Jared needs to see for himself, which leaves Gabe and —

Literally it’s just Gabe.

Also Stephen, but Jared’s pretty sure Brian can’t trade him.

“Nobody’s traded!” Bryce says. “Just. You need to see it? Instead of me telling you about it?”

Not for a million dollars will Bryce tell him.

If people on the internet are talking about how hot they think Jared’s dad is again, he swears to god —

One of my favourite subplots that doesn’t make the main narrative — Don the DILF.

“Erin’s trending again,” Bryce says.

Jared’s sister trending on twitter is really not something that Jared expected to happen twice. Like, even in a big Canadian market, that’s getting slightly absurd for a the sister of a middle-six forward.

Imagine how she feels. (She again thinks it’s funny)

Bryce gently kicks him in the shin. “You might want to look it up.”

“No thanks,” Jared says.

Bryce kicks him again. “Seriously, though.”

“If I do will you stop kicking me?” Jared asks.

“Yeah,” Bryce says.

Please look this up out of your own volition so you won’t shoot Bryce Marcus, Messenger.

“J,” Bryce says. “He’s clearly not going to pick up.”

Jared hits ‘end’ and then ‘call’ for the fourth time.

Surely he will pick up the fourth time you call to yell at him.

“Maybe just leave a message?” Bryce suggests weakly.

“Are you fucking my sister?” Jared asks when the operator’s finished telling him the number he has dialled is currently unavailable, because Julius couldn’t even be bothered to set his voicemail message after literal years in Canada. “And pick up your fucking phone, Halla, I swear to god.”

Bryce regrets his suggestion.

“What,” he says.

“He’s probably not going to want to call you back?” Bryce says. “If you sound like that?”

“Nobody cares what Julius wants!” Jared says.

“Um,” Bryce says. “Are you — okay?”

Bryce increasingly realising Jared was completely blindsided by this and mentally rewinding to every time he thought Jared was just ignoring the relationship out of pettiness.

“You knew about this,” Jared says with dawning realisation.

Bryce looks shifty.

“You knew,” Jared says. “And you let me find out from twitter.”

“I didn’t know know,” Bryce says.

They have not been formally told, but nobody has been hiding this from them. See: several parts ago, when Erin was visiting a friend in Edmonton (nobody told Jared it was a university friend, as he stated, Jared just assumed it must be because he knows Erin didn’t keep in touch with anyone from high school or earlier. Neither Matheson sibling is a big friend maker)

“Jared,” Bryce says, then, from the other side of a slammed door, “Hey, that’s my room!”

Jared is sulking, so by all rights the sulking room now belongs to him.

He’d ask if the picture was misinterpreted, like it was with Bryce, but there really aren’t that many interpretations for a kiss. Sure, some cultures greet one another with kisses, but as far as Jared is aware, the Finns are not one of them, and neither are the Mathesons.

Ah yes, the famed Matheson culture. Signs of affection are ribbing, mockery, and snide.

And even if a kiss on the mouth was a Finnish greeting, it’d be one Julius would pointedly not do. Julius doesn’t like participating in things.

This is so accurate but hilarious from Jared because it’s one of the reasons they get along so well.

He’s not your liney anymore. Erin replies. P sure both your current lineys are already taken.

Also he’s literally on a rival team now? That’s like the anti-liney.

Ene-liney.

So you’re not denying it. Jared texts. He originally ended the text an exclamation mark, but that looked too dramatic. He’s fine. He’s chill.

So you’re not denying it!

Is this a thing? Jared writes, after deleting the two extra question marks that somehow popped up.

Is this a thing???

How long has this been a thing? Jared asks.

Officially? Like two weeks.

Before this there was some hanging out. But the euphemism-y kind of hanging out. And some texting while Julius was away. But Julius came back from Finland early, even before it was ‘officially’, which makes it a full-on Thing.

Unofficially? Jared asks.

Idk. You know how it is, Erin replies.

Jared does not know how it is. He can’t even begin to guess what she’s referring to, he has so little awareness of how it is. He met Bryce and that was it for him. Well. Give or take a few weeks and a minor grudge.

Oh we’re calling it a minor grudge now?

Wait no you don’t you were engaged at my age hahaha

Erin obviously knows Jared was engaged at nineteen, and gave him shit for it at the time (her ‘I can’t believe you’re going to be a child bride’ is one of my favourite lines in the entire series) but now that she’s nineteen herself?

His phone lights up with another text, which is just hahahahahaha and crying laughing emojis.

She’s dying what were they THINKING.

“Can I come in?” Bryce asks meekly.

“Fine,” Jared says, since it’s not like he’s talking to Erin anymore. Though he doesn’t know why Bryce would want to. This is the sulking room, and Bryce doesn’t seem sulky about this at all.

Only Big Sulky Babies allowed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you?” Bryce says, perching on the bed beside Jared as Jared tries to forcibly wipe his brain clean. “I just — kind of thought it was something we both knew but we were like, pretending we didn’t know so you could ignore it forever.”

Look at Bryce supportively pretend something doesn’t exist because he fears for Jared’s sanity.

“Don and I are cool now,” Bryce says. “Sort of. Mostly. He hasn’t insulted me to my face in like – a while. Huh. That’s a good sign.”

Don did mean it about Bryce being a member of the family after he married Jared. You don’t insult family. Mock? Sure. Tease? Absolutely. But insult? Absolutely not.

“Why didn’t someone actually say ‘hey Jared, you do know this is a thing, right?’” Jared asks. His immediate family and Julius all know that Jared can be, well —

Someone should have made sure he was aware, is the point.

“I honestly think Erin just wanted to see how long it’d take you to figure it out if no one actually said ‘hey Jared, Erin and Julius are dating’,” Bryce says. “And apparently the answer was a picture on twitter?”

Everyone assumed Jared already knew and was pointedly ignoring it. Except Erin. She knew that Jared would yell at her or Julius when he knew, and therefore he was still in the dark.

Bryce looks shifty again. “Ash told me that Erin said that?”

Which means Ash knows, obviously. And that Ash and Bryce have discussed this. So Chaz must know. And Maia. Not that babies know things, just —

Don’t worry, Jared, I promise Maia didn’t know before you.

Fucking Oilers fans found out about this before Jared did. Flames fans did.

He doesn’t know why, but the fact Flames fans knew this before Jared did makes this so much worse than if it was just Oilers fans.

This is simultaneously a weird thing to get stuck on, yet also totally understandable. Oilers fans are Julius fans. Flames fans are Julius haters. But also may remember Erin from Bryce drama. Also fuck Flames fans, all Jared’s homies hate Flames fans.

Jared’s phone buzzes from where he tossed it after the last emoji round. He bets it’s more hahahahas. Possibly some skulls. Erin likes to die laughing.

She can’t hahaha any longer, she’s already dead from laughing.

150. Affront

Jared thinks people are supposed to be afraid of death. He’s pretty sure that’s common, reasonable. When threatened with death, people should feel fear. But what is Julius Halla doing right now? He’s laughing. At Jared.

He basically lived with you, Jared, he knows just how little true bite there is in you.

“Stop laughing,” Jared hisses. “You traitor.”

“Who am I a traitor to,” Julius says. He sounds vaguely curious, like someone who’s been accused of something ludicrous, and is interested to see how you came to that conclusion. Which is rich, for a traitor.

But who is he a traitor TO, Jared?

“Me!” Jared says. “And friendship! And lineys! And — there’s a code!”

I do enjoy Jared continually using Julius being his liney as a reason when they have now been divisional rivals longer than they were ever linemates.

“You think it’s the definition of toxic masculinity,” Julius says. “And that it frequently treats women as objects and prizes to be won, and also acts like showing affection towards your friends is gay. And you’re gay, and you think showing affection is disgusting, so obviously there is no connection.”

He listens <3

“She’s like, ten!” Jared says. “She’s way too young for you.”

Julius is very quiet. “How much older than you is—“

There’s about a two and a half year age difference between Erin and Julius. Bryce and Jared’s is just shy of four years. As Julius well knows, the bastard.

“Eating my food and dating my sister,” Jared says. “Who is a child.”

“How old were you when you got engaged?” Julius asks.

Jared can only an inarticulate sound of rage in answer, because Julius knows exactly how old he was when he got engaged.

The answer is ‘exactly as old as Erin is now’. As Julius is well aware, the BASTARD. Also, a missing word, my bad.

“Wait,” Jared says, suddenly horrified. More horrified. “You’re not engaged, are you?”

“No!” Julius says, sounding equally horrified.

This question isn’t the reason Julius doesn’t want to get married, but it certainly did not help.

“How did this even happen,” Jared moans. “Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything. Why didn’t you tell me.”

This feels like a trick question.

“I wanted to wait to tell you in person,” Julius says. “Because I was concerned you’d be, well. You know.”

People keep telling Jared he knows things that he does not know.

“I don’t know,” he says.

“Hysterical,” Julius says.

“I am not hysterical!” Jared says.

This might be more believable if Jared hadn’t shrieked that last bit.

The fact Bryce bursts out laughing in the living room contradicts that statement, but Julius can’t hear him. And maybe it’s coincidental laughter. Maybe Bryce is watching something funny. Because Jared is not hysterical.

“Wait, Erin didn’t think I’d be hysterical?” Jared says.

Look, Jared may deny he’s hysterical, but also — why didn’t Erin think he’d be hysterical? Even if he isn’t. Because he is not. But also — really?

For all of Erin’s many…many…many faults, an inability to predict Jared’s behaviour is unfortunately not one of them. She used her predictive ability for blackmail purposes way too much when they were younger, always caught him in the act when he was breaking the few house rules he ever broke then threatened to snitch if Jared didn’t do shit for her. He made her so many grilled cheese sandwiches. To this day he associates grilled cheese with smug smiles and extortion.

Admission of hysteria. Also Jared makes an excellent grilled cheese sandwich. Worth surveillance for blackmail purposes for sure.

“But I was in Finland at the beginning of summer,” Julius says. “And then Bryce injured his shoulder, and you went to Vancouver, and there was no good time. And then twitter.”

Julius, if asked, would say they were a thing months earlier than Erin would. But they had not yet defined the relationship.

“She’s fine,” Julius says. “She thinks it’s funny.”

He sounds faintly scandalised. Which is understandable, because it’s not funny.

“Did you tell her it’s not funny,” Jared says.

“I did,” Julius says. “She says she gets to decide if it’s funny or not.”

“But it’s not funny,” Jared says.

“I know,” Julius says.

Counterpoint from Erin: it’s fucking hilarious, you’re both just boring.

“Don’t like —“ Jared says, then pauses, because there are a lot of different demands warring in him right now. “That’s my sister, Halla.”

“I know,” Julius says. “Would it help if I told you I have…strong…feelings—“

“Gross,” Jared says. “Stop talking.”

“Okay,” Julius says, sounding greatly relieved.

I love their friendship. Every time feelings are involved they both react like cats getting sprayed with water.

“No,” Jared says. “Obviously it is. Did you know that they were together?”

There’s a silence.

“Mom?” Jared says.

“…did you not?” his mom asks. “Jared!”

NOBODY was hiding this from Jared. Nobody.

“Erin’s spent more time in Edmonton than Calgary since her semester ended,” mom says.

“She has a friend there,” Jared says, then, “Oh.”

Yes.

There's only one direct reference to Erin and Julius’ relationship before Jared finds out in the series, because I had to ride a careful line there, as Jared hadn’t noticed anything, so his POV wouldn’t really reflect the information he wasn’t paying attention to.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jared demands. ‘Friend’ is not telling him. ‘Friend’ is a euphemism you use when the other person already knows.

“I thought you knew!” his mom says. “And were just immaturely pretending that as long as you didn’t acknowledge it then it wasn’t actually happening!”

Jared thinks it might be a concerning sign that the two people who know him best both assume he thinks that if he pretends something hard enough, it won’t happen.

Yes that might indicate something about you, Jared.

“Yes!” Jared says. “Why aren’t you mad about this? Your daughter’s dating a hockey player. A hockey player. And you’re letting her?”

“You’re a hockey player, Jared,” his mom says. “As is your husband. And literally all of your friends.”

This isn’t exactly Grace’s mom upon finding out she was dating Raf.

“That’s just people in general, sweetie,” his mom says. “And we know Julius is a nice young man.”

“He is not,” Jared says. Julius is many things, but he is not nice.

“You know what I mean by nice, Jared,” his mom says.

He’s not a nice boy, but he is a good one. Also he speaks Matheson quite fluently.

“You can’t just assume that I like him.”

“Jared,” his mom says. “You love that boy. You brought him home for Christmas.”

“Out of the kindness of my heart,” Jared says.

“You brought home someone you don’t like for Christmas out of the kindness of your heart,” his mom says. “And then you invited him to your wedding. As one of the handful of guests who wasn’t immediately related to you or Bryce. Out of the kindness of your heart.”

Jared, we all know there is not even close to that much kindness in your heart.

“Obviously you like him, or he wouldn’t be one of your best friends,” his mom says. “And since you’re choosy about who you’re friends with, that means a lot. You have extremely good taste in friends, when you actually bother to make them.”

Jared picks at the hem of his shorts.

Jared thinks it’s quite rude for his mom to use facts and reason against him when he is intent on being unreasonable.

“Gross, love,” Jared says.

“I won’t tell Erin you love her, I promise,” his mom says.

“Good,” Jared says. “Ew.”

How dare anyone say he loves his (demon) sister.

“Jared,” his mom says. “Are you making this all about you?”

“No,” Jared says.

“Jared,” his mom says.

“Well it’s a little bit about me, isn’t it!” Jared says. “He’s my friend. And liney.”

“Former liney,” his mom says. Everyone’s so fixated on that part. Liney status can last past being teammates. Look at Jared and Chaz: linemates for life. Even though Bryce subsequently stole Chaz a little, despite the fact they played on completely different lines on the Flames. Not that it’s stealing. Couples share.

Jared can share. Look at how good Jared is at sharing. He only holds Bryce befriending Chaz against him a little, years down the line. That’s sharing.

Eventually Julius is going to get exposed to Erin’s sparkling personality.

He’s had some exposure therapy, rooming with Jared.

Jared would mention that long-distance relationships are highly prone to failure, but he’s pretty sure mom would bring up how much of his relationship with Bryce involved long-distance, and Jared is frankly sick of people reminding him of his own extremely successful relationship, and not letting him be hypocritical.

What bullshit.

He hates arguing with his mom. It’s like arguing with himself, except worse, because at least when he argues with himself, he always technically wins.

The best kind of argument.

“You remind me so much of your dad right now,” mom says.

“Mom!” Jared says.

“A little Don in the making,” his mom says. “He’d be so proud.”

Jared tries to tell her to take it back, but all he can manage is an inarticulate sound of rage. Again.

The cruelest thing you could say to him.

“I got Thai from that place on Burrard you really like,” Bryce says, then, all in a rush, “Sorry for assuming you knew about Julius and Erin and were just pretending you didn’t instead of like, actually not knowing. If I knew you actually didn’t know I would have told you. Or made Erin tell you because it wouldn’t be my place to tell you or. Are you mad at me?”

Sala Thai, for anyone curious. Also, poor Bryce. He really did think Jared knew.

“Did you get me soup to shut me up?” Jared asks.

“I got you it because it’s your favourite?” Bryce says, looking both hurt and confused.

Poor, poor Bryce.

“—and doesn’t he realise what Erin’s like?” Jared says. “Because he is going to be unpleasantly surprised when he gets to know her a little better.”

“Uh,” Bryce says. “I think he’s had a pretty good preview of what Erin’s like?”

BRYCE, NO. I mean, you are 100% correct, but NO.

“We are nothing alike,” Jared says.

“Erin made the exact same face when I said that,” Bryce says. “Like. That’s almost creepy.”

“You’ve said this to her?” Jared says.

“Yeah, because you’re both—“ Bryce says, then, “Ow! She did that too!”

Why do Mathesons keep smacking Bryce’s arm when he tells them the truth?

“We’re nothing alike,” Jared mutters.

Bryce says nothing, but he’s got this look on his face like ‘I’m humouring you right now by not arguing, but you know and I know that you’re full of shit’.

“Stop — looking at me with that face,” Jared says.

Bryce huffs out a laugh. “Erin said—“

Jared can’t hear him.

“Jared,” Bryce says, muffled. “Jared, I know you can hear me.”

Jared cannot.

Erin wasn’t immature enough to put her hands over her ears though, that one’s all Jared.

“Take it back,” Jared says.

“No,” Bryce says. “I’m not pretending something isn’t true just because you don’t like it, that’s ridiculous.”

Jared picks up his noodles.

“I got you soup,” Bryce says sadly as Jared stomps right back to the sulking room, this time with dinner.

Poor, poor Bryce.

[bitchinbarzal]

rotwm series: mountain with a view — q.hughes

based on mountain with a view by kelsea ballerini

-

It's 7 a.m. and I'm on a mountain with a view. I'm the only one, alone, at a table meant for two. Big Sur looks beautiful this morning and I should be missin' you, I should be missin' you.

You sat in the window nook of your Airbnb. In all your time travelling around after Quinn you’d never truly experienced California, how beautiful it was.

It was the same Airbnb that you’d stayed in together on your honeymoon.

The honeymoon you had to settle for when your luxurious all inclusive honeymoon was ruined. Quinn had decided to go back to Vancouver early to start training and after a lot of back and forth arguments he agreed to a long weekend in California.

You thought you’d be sad to return, this time without him but you weren’t. You did everything you wanted to the first time round that Quinn deemed

“Not fun”

“Boring”

And “a waste of time”

You didn’t miss him and you felt so happy.

You're across the pond at a show, I think, in Amsterdam and the pictures look pretty, at least they do on your Instagram We say good morning, then goodnight I wonder if you even know where I am, where I am

You couldn’t even remember where he was playing tonight. You were only reminded when you saw he had reposted a picture from Brock’s story onto his.

They were out at some restaurant all smiling and laughing.

You’d actually only checked instagram when your mom had asked you where Quinn was playing that night and you couldn’t even answer her.

You used to follow him around when he went on roadies, travelling to New Jersey and Toronto just to support him and now you didn’t talk whenever he was on the road, he’d ask what you got up to whenever he got home but you knew he didn’t really care and just wanted to fill the silence.

I'm wearin' the ring still, but I think I'm lyin' Sometimes you forget yours, I think we're done tryin' I realize you loved me much more at twenty-three I think that this is when it's over for me

Whenever you did finally do something together it was a work event — the canucks annual charity ball.

“Oh my goodness I can’t ever get over how gorgeous this ring is!” Brock’s girlfriend smiles, grabbing your hand and admiring your wedding ring.

“Thank you!” You replied, blushing and leaning into Quinn’s side.

She scowled “Quinn you’re not wearing yours?” You looked down at Quinn’s left hand to find the gold band gone.

“Oh! I must’ve forgot it” he brushes it off, giving a tight smile.

You didn’t reproach the situation that night.

But you watched him across the next few weeks every morning as he brushed over his wedding band in your jewelry box.

He never put it on.

“Hey, why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?” You asked one morning, brushing your hair in the mirror.

“It’s not a big deal” he grumbled.

“It’s our wedding rings Quinn, it is a big deal!”

“God why are you such a bitch lately? Why can’t you be chill like you used to?”

You look at him, wide eyes “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“Like why can’t you just be like when we first got married? Silent and Supportive!”

You didn’t even reply, simply turning to leave the room before you burst into tears.

I think that this is when I cut the ties I think that is when I set myself free One day you'll ask, "When was it over for you?"

I'm takin' the ring off, I'm finally cryin' Don't try to find yours, no reason to fight it

You'll say I'm crazy for bein' the one to leave Scream I'm just like my parents and givin' up easy

But you never took that last flight to see me.

“Babe come on you don’t have to do this!” Quinn cries, following you through the house.

He’d come home from practice to find your suitcases by the front door and you standing at the kitchen counter waiting for him.

He asked why your suitcases were outside, what was wrong. You never answered, simply sliding your wedding ring along the granite and he groaned lowly.

“Baby…”

“Don’t Quinn!” You snap “It’s over”

“It Just just be over!” He screams “We are married!”

You look at him waving his arms around wildly and tears drop down your cheeks

“Quinn… let me go please”

His eyes soften and he steps around the counter “Baby please… why?”

You looked at him, he could feel the pain you were in just by your face. He wanted to reach out and hold you.

“Quinn… you never come home anymore”

“I’m always home?!” He screams, hands waving around.

He wasn’t screaming in anger, he was scared screaming. Screaming to hold onto what was slowly slipping away from him.

You sniffled, hands shaking as you reached up and held his face

“I don’t know the man that walks through those doors anymore… but it’s not you that comes home to me”

The tears were streaming down his face as well as yours as he mumbled

“You can’t leave me”

“Quinn I should’ve left a long time ago”

[fortressofserenity]

US imperialism, DC and Marvel style

There's a book called 'How To Read Donald Duck' which is about Disney's role in propagating and inculcating US imperialism that I feel similar things can be said of DC and Marvel, the latter a future Disney subsidiary, that would have insidious and disturbing implications for former US colonies like the Philippines. The Philippines is in a state of constant US neocolonialism, given there are American military bases here and many Filipinos are very sympathetic to America that it would take guts to cut it off from us.

It's kind of depressing how people like Gerry Alanguilan don't seem to trust more Eastern influence in Philippine comics, but see no issue working for DC and Marvel that it seems some Filipinos would rather allow American neocolonialism to continue, rather than (re)building ties with the Philippines' closest neighbours. The Philippines would benefit more from allying with neighbours like China, Japan and Indonesia than it would with a warmonger like the US. But I suppose brain drain's preferable to building stronger ties to rest of the Far East.

What makes DC and Marvel so good at propagating US imperialism isn't just due to the abundance of patriotic figures like Captain America, Superman and the Falcon, but also how both aliens and actual foreigners often work in America far longer than they should or could've done with countries like Britain, Australia and Canada. Alpha Flight is one of the few Marvel publications to be consistently set outside of America, but even then it's intermittently published. It's all in the name of achieving the American Dream.

Whether if they're extraterrestrials like Supergirl and Superman, or proper foreigners like Nightcrawler and Betsy Braddock, America will always be the place where they better themselves in. America is the place where they'll be willing to work for US organisations like the Avengers and X-Men, regardless of their own citizenship (thus national allegiance to). Wolverine is Canadian, but tends to live and work in America. Not unlike Walt Disney's own father by the way. Betsy Braddock is British but works in America just the same.

One would wonder why Storm's marriage to Black Panther, an African superhero by the way, never lasted this long nor has her stay in any African country, despite being the X-Men's pre-eminent African member. It's more appealing to work in America and be the resident exotic black girl, than to actually work in Kenya and represent Kenyans as they really are. DC and Marvel's US imperialist ideology is more abhorrent whenever they assist in continuing US neocolonialism in the Philippines.

So it's seen as an achievement for Filipinos to work for DC and Marvel than it is to build their own Bumilangit, an Indonesian superhero publisher by the way, featuring the likes of Darna, Captain Barbell and Lastikman. Canada's own Lev Gleason has done the same with Northguard and Captain Canuck, but to be honest there was something like Bayan Knights here in the Philippines. But I don't think it lasted long, as far as I know about it, so it seems attempts at Philippine nationalism are often undermined by US imperialism.

I feel Filipinos don't have much integrity the way Indonesians and even Canadians do, that's why it's easier to work for DC and Marvel than to find a way to better the Philippines and even build stronger ties to the rest of the East. US imperialism works too well with us, that's why we often work for DC and Marvel. But it's a not good sign, especially if it undermines national and cultural integrity.

[babydollmarauders]

you’ve talked about el’s luke phase, but did she ever have a quinn phase?

el definitely has a quinn phase! although, her quinn phase is more location based.

it’s easy for her to be in her luke phase because he lives with her, but for her quinn phase(s) it’s almost always during the summer when she sees him all the time!

it’s like as soon as they get to the lake house, she’s all about quinn!

right now, she’s only one so her talking isn’t the best but she’ll definitely wander around the lake house calling out “whinny? whinny?” until she finds him or until he scoops her up and kisses all over her face. and there’s even plenty of times where lovie is trying to feed her breakfast and el pushes lovie’s hand away and just goes “whinny!” and lovie has to let quinn feed her.

as she gets older though (like 2 and 3), there’s definitely times where after the canucks play against the devils and she’s just seen quinn, then she wants him all the time. she doesn’t really understand completely that he’s only there for a night or so, so she gets upset and confused that he’s not there the next day. she’ll wander around the house calling out “whinny! whinny!” until lovie facetimes him so that she can see him

[andrebearakovsky]

NHL Outdoor Game Jersey Tier List

I originally had this idea back during the Stadium Series weekend when I was looking at the jerseys and comparing them to jerseys of outdoor games past. So I decided to put all the different jerseys NHL teams have worn for every outdoor game since 2003 onto a tier list (excluding the 4 jerseys that were worn in the 2 games at Tahoe, since each team just wore their reverse retro jersey and they weren't special jerseys for the event).

Some of these are absolutely gorgeous, and some are flops. I've organized them into tiers of how good they are, and an important factor in my rankings is creativity - whether or not something was original and distinct for the event or a copy of a current/former jersey had a significant impact on what tier it went in. And a note that I am only rating based on the jerseys themselves, and I'm not judging any accompanying pants, helmets, gloves, socks, etc. All of these ratings are scientific and 100% correct.

All of these pictures were taken from the NHL Uniform Database website. This is also where I looked at each team's jersey history to see which outdoor game jerseys were just a copy of another jersey.

And a note that the Coyotes, Blue Jackets, and Panthers do not have any entries on this list since none of them have ever participated in an outdoor game. (Though this will soon change! Looking forward to seeing what the Jackets do for their Stadium Series jerseys next year. And tbh they really need to give the Yotes and Panthers an outdoor game 'cause I think those teams would make some pretty nice jerseys.)

Detailed list of which exact jerseys these are (team and event) are included under the cut for reference.

Jerseys listed from left to right as seen in the image above.

Amazing - Washington Capitals 2015 Winter Classic, Minnesota Wild 2022 Winter Classic, Seattle Kraken 2024 Winter Classic, Vancouver Canucks 2014 Heritage Classic, Ottawa Senators 2014 Heritage Classic

Good - Philadelphia Flyers 2017 Stadium Series, Philadelphia Flyers 2012 Winter Classic, New York Rangers 2018 Winter Classic, Detroit Red Wings 2014 Winter Classic, Washington Capitals 2018 Stadium Series, Toronto Maple Leafs 2018 Stadium Series, Los Angeles Kings 2014 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2011 Winter Classic, New York Rangers 2012 Winter Classic, Ottawa Senators 2017 NHL 100 Classic, Calgary Flames 2011 Heritage Classic, St. Louis Blues 2022 Winter Classic, Buffalo Sabres 2022 Heritage Classic, San Jose Sharks 2015 Stadium Series, Los Angeles Kings 2015 Stadium Series, Boston Bruins 2010 Winter Classic, Dallas Stars 2020 Winter Classic, Winnipeg Jets 2019 Heritage Classic, Winnipeg Jets 2016 Heritage Classic, Edmonton Oilers 2023 Heritage Classic, Calgary Flames 2023 Heritage Classic, Boston Bruins 2016 Winter Classic

All you did was pull an old jersey out of the closet (with little or no changes) - St. Louis Blues 2017 Winter Classic, Washington Capitals 2011 Winter Classic, New Jersey Devils 2014 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2008 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2019 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2009 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2014 Stadium Series, Detroit Red Wings 2009 Winter Classic, Toronto Maple Leafs 2014 Winter Classic

This is just your jersey w/ little or no modifications - Calgary Flames 2019 Heritage Classic, Anaheim Ducks 2014 Stadium Series, Montreal Canadiens 2003 Heritage Classic, Montreal Canadiens 2011 Heritage Classic, Edmonton Oilers 2016 Heritage Classic, Edmonton Oilers 2003 Heritage Classic, Philadelphia Flyers 2010 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2015 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2017 Winter Classic, Chicago Blackhawks 2016 Stadium Series, Minnesota Wild 2016 Stadium Series, Buffalo Sabres 2008 Winter Classic

Fine - New Jersey Devils 2024 Stadium Series, Philadelphia Flyers 2019 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2017 Stadium Series, New York Islanders 2024 Stadium Series, Nashville Predators 2022 Stadium Series, Carolina Hurricanes 2023 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2019 Stadium Series, Montreal Canadiens 2016 Winter Classic, Tampa Bay Lightning 2022 Stadium Series, Detroit Red Wings 2016 Stadium Series, Colorado Avalanche 2016 Stadium Series, Boston Bruins 2019 Winter Classic, New York Islanders 2014 Stadium Series, Boston Bruins 2023 Winter Classic, Toronto Maple Leafs 2022 Heritage Classic, Toronto Maple Leafs 2017 Centennial Classic

Can't decide whether I like it or hate it - Colorado Avalanche 2020 Stadium Series

Boring - Detroit Red Wings 2017 Centennial Classic, Montreal Canadiens 2017 NHL 100 Classic, Nashville Predators 2020 Winter Classic, Buffalo Sabres 2018 Winter Classic, Philadelphia Flyers 2024 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2014 Stadium Series

Awful - Washington Capitals 2023 Stadium Series, Pittsburgh Penguins 2023 Winter Classic, New York Rangers 2014 Stadium Series, Vegas Golden Knights 2024 Winter Classic, Los Angeles Kings 2020 Stadium Series, New York Rangers 2024 Stadium Series