I Love Him

I love him

how i sleep knowing seth jarvis renewed for 8 years

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pookie :( seth jarvis

Oh! Darling pt. 1

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: requested, it didn't fully fill the request as much as I wanted, I apologize but it's a long one :)italics are flashback as always. also insanely unedited I never edit anything I post so Summary: Quinn and Y/N have a suprise pregnancy Warnings: swearing, I think that's all Word Count: 6,236 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader pt. 2

July

It was normal for her cycle to be inconsistent, ever since her first ever period she was inconsistent. It would be a week early, a week late, nothing more. Except right now she was a week and two days late.

She wasn’t freaking out until Quinn came home with hot chocolate and a pack of tampons. It was normal for him to just casually buy the products for her. They’ve been together since they were fifteen years old, so of course it was a part of their routine. She moved to Vancouver with him his rookie year and they’ve never looked back.

Here they were sitting on their bathroom floor together waiting for the two minute timer to go off. Her head was against her knees as he was staring blankly towards the floor. After a few scares they have had over the years, she’s kept a few pregnancy tests in their bathroom. They weren’t trying to get pregnant but after nine years together, they were becoming less and less careful.

She lifted her head, turning her gaze towards Quinn watching him count on his fingers. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly while taking in a sharp breath. “What are you doing?” she asked barely above a whisper.

He met her eye, before he had a chance to answer the timer went off. Quinn turned it off as he maintained eye contact. He took a deep breath, “Ready?” he asked barely above a whisper. She clenched her jaw as she continued looking into his gaze. She nodded very subtly and Quinn reached towards the counter. He took a hold of the test, keeping it face down.

His hands were shaking, she glanced down and took a hold of his hand holding the pregnancy test. He took a deep breath as she slowly pulled her hand away, he spun it around. Clear as day, it wrote Pregnant. It was impossible to miss. A gasp left her throat.

He lowered the test to the floor as a small smile formed to his lips, he shifted his gaze towards her. He saw the tears starting to fall from her eyes but the smile on her lips. “I didn’t think-” she trailed off while she turned and met his gaze. The smile on his lips and the nervous laughter that left his lips answered the question she had.

He leaned towards her wrapping his arms around her, he swallowed hard before he breathed out, “We’re having a baby.”

After a few seconds she pulled away, a harsh frown on her lips. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand delicately placed on her thigh.

“Oh god,” she muttered out, “The baby’s gonna be born right before playoffs, oh no,” she let out. Her breath began to quicken as she stood up from the floor. He watched her walk out of the bathroom. Quinn cleared his throat as he took a hold of the test, he stared towards the positive test. He took a deep breath as he stood up from the floor. He placed the test onto the counter as he followed her out of the bathroom.

“It’ll be fine, we’ll worry about it when it comes,” he expressed as found her pacing their bedroom. He stopped her by stepping in her path. He watched her lips quiver as she scanned his features. A smile formed onto his lips as he took a hold of her hips. “We’re having a baby,” he let out again as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“We’re having a baby,” she repeated as she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, he lifted her up as he spun her slowly.

October

Their last appointment was too early to tell the sex of the baby and they didn’t want to make a huge deal on the reveal. It didn’t matter to them, they were going to be excited regardless. They were sitting in the lobby, praying that no one would recognize Quinn. They have yet to tell their families as they were worried it would be too early and something would go wrong.

It has been impossible not to say anything to his brothers. He speaks to Jack every day and it has almost slipped out of his mouth multiple times. When he did speak to Luke, he tried to leave him alone during his rookie year, he would nearly let it slip too.

Y/N struggled to keep it quiet from her parents since she called them at least once a day. They would always ask about what’s new in her life but she managed to keep it secret. Her sister on the other hand is the only other person that knows. Her sister, Isabella, was visiting the following week after they found out.

It was too early to mention the pregnancy as she was barely seven weeks along, she found out quite late. She had no idea how she was going to manage to keep it a secret from her sister for five days. Y/N was working the morning Isabella had landed in Vancouver. Which led to Quinn being the one to go pick her up and bring her back to the apartment. Which they were planning on moving out of.

Y/N always expressed how much she loved the apartment she was in. It was a one bedroom apartment with two bathrooms. It was perfect until they found out they were having a baby. They decided on moving into a bigger apartment suited for family life. It was evident that they were moving by the pile of boxes in the trunk of Quinn’s car and by the state of their apartment.

Quinn spent the whole drive avoiding the topic of what the use of the second bedroom would be. He kept saying that they were starting to get more people to visit and that’s why they needed a second bedroom. However, Isabella was completely convinced that Y/N was pregnant.

She was obviously right, but Quinn had explicit instructions to deny, deny, deny. Except Isabella was extremely nosey. Quinn was pulling out the coffee table, prepping the pull-out sofa for her to sleep on; when Isabella walked out of their bathroom.

“Are you going to keep lying to me or just tell me?” she questioned as she was holding the ziplock baggie that held two positive pregnancy tests. Quinn lifted his head, his mouth fell open. He chuckled dryly.

“You went through our drawers?” he let out a smirk on his lips.

“I forgot a toothbrush,” she said as she shook the baggy, “I was looking for a spare one!” she defended. Quinn stood up from the floor as he walked towards Isabella.

“You know, Y/N’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled as he took the baggy from her hand. He stared towards it, an instant smile formed to his lips. “We were going to wait to tell anyone until it was further along in the pregnancy,” he explained. He lifted his gaze as he met Isabella’s eye.

“How far long?” Isabella asked excitedly.

“We don’t know yet, we have a doctor’s appointment in a couple days. We’ve only known for a week,” he explained as the front door opened. Y/N jogged inside excitedly. A frown instantly appeared to her lips seeing Quinn holding the pregnancy tests and her sister standing right there. His eyes widened, “She went snooping!” he accused, childishly pointing a finger towards Isabella.

Isabella gasped as she smacked her hand lightly against Quinn’s arm.

Y/N rested her head nervously on Quinn’s shoulder. He leaned his head against her arm as he reached over and interlocked his hand with hers. “Isabella thinks we’re having a boy,” she whispered. He smiled softly as he ran his thumb across the top of her hand.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he mumbled, “My mom gave up on having a girl after Lukey,” he let out a soft chuckle.

“My mom gave up on having a boy after Isabella,” she replied.

Before Quinn could reply the ultrasound tech stepped into the lobby with a clipboard in her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.” the tech lifted her gaze to see Quinn sitting down. Her eyes widened slightly at that moment.

Y/N perked upward as her and Quinn both stood up and walked side by side to the back of the office. It took ten minutes before she was on the table, awaiting the freezing gel and the results of the scan. Quinn sat closely to her as he scanned her features. Y/N was staring towards the empty ultrasound screen as the gel was placed on her skin.

Quinn delicately leaned closer as the screen lit up, showing the gray image of the growing baby. The ultrasound tech smiled excitedly as she pointed towards the screen, “That’s your baby,” she said pointing a manicured finger along the outline of the baby.

Quinn smiled softly as he felt his breath caught in his throat. Your baby. It was still so hard to believe. Y/N kept a small smile as she watched the screen, her heart was beating quickly. It was getting more real every appointment.

Quinn squeezed Y/N’s hand, she shifted her gaze towards him. He winked towards her as she shifted her gaze back towards the screen.

It took another ten minutes before the doctor came in. He quickly sat down, rubbing hand sanitizer all over his hands as he smiled towards the pair.

“We’re just going to do a general check-up on how the baby is doing and are we finding out the sex of the baby today as well?” he asked. They both nodded excitedly. Y/N was always super nervous every time she was at the appointment. “Alright,” he let out as he pulled gloves on his hands as he rolled closer to the table.

Y/N held her breath as the doctor put more of the gel onto her growing bump. It took a few seconds before the screen popped up as the doctor rolled the wand over her stomach. It was silent as they stared towards the screen together. Quinn squeezed her hand as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N. He loved the joy on her face.

“Alright, healthy heartbeat. Healthy size for eighteen weeks and now I’m gonna check for the sex of the baby,” the doctor said while raising his eyebrows. Y/N held her breath as she tried to see what the doctor was seeing. Quinn kept his gaze on Y/N.

“Congratulations you are having a girl,” the doctor said as he shifted his gaze towards the pair. Quinn’s mouth fell open as a nervous laugh left his lips. Y/N pouted her lips as she began to tear up. She turned her head to meet Quinn’s gaze. The doctor quickly wiped the gel from her stomach, “We’ve got a few paperwork things that we have to file, but you guys will be out of here in a moment,” he said before he stepped out of the room.

Once they were alone, Quinn leaned towards her kissing her. He rested his hand onto her cheek, “Oh my god,” he mumbled against her lips.

It was becoming too real and too hard to keep secret from their families. They wanted to wait until his brothers and parents would be in town for the Hughes Bowl but it would be way too long by then.

Telling them over FaceTime was not ideal but they lived in a whole different country and timezone from their families. Y/N’s parents fell in love with Quinn the second she brought him home. Her mom was asking about baby names the second they moved in together. Her dad also loved Quinn because he didn’t have any sons of his own. In a way over the last nine years, he learned to love Quinn like a son.

“Why can’t we just wait until Christmas?” Y/N let out nervously. Quinn took a hold of the chair and pulled it closer to him, he shifted his frame to face her. He rested his hands onto her thighs.

“I think our parents would be sad that we didn’t tell them sooner, You’ll be-what- almost thirty weeks? They’ll be happy no matter how we tell them,” he comforted. She tilted her head to the side as she frowned slightly.

“I can’t hug my mom after telling her,” she mumbled. Quinn pouted as he ran his hand across the fabric of her pants.

“I know but they are all coming for Christmas, you can see her then,” he muttered, trying to be comforting but it was a difficult situation. His laptop began ringing, alerting them of a FaceTime call from her mother. He leaned towards her delicately kissing her cheek before he answered the FaceTime.

Tilted her head back, swallowing hard. “Hi guys! What’s going on?” her mother said excitedly. Her dad was standing behind her mother, resting his hands on the back of the chair. Her mother’s face fell, “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, we’re okay-great actually,” Quinn explained, knowing that Y/N was a bit paralyzed to speak. Her mother quite literally let out a sigh of relief. Quinn soothingly ran his hand up and down her lower back. He turned his gaze towards her and she kept staring blankly towards the screen. “Honey,” he whispered.

She blinked rapidly as she looked deeply into his eyes for a few seconds before she looked back towards the computer. Her mouth opened and shut for a few seconds before she met her mom’s gaze through the computer. She knew, she had to know already.

“We’re having a baby,” Y/N blurted out.

Her mother simply smiled as she began to cry, happily. Her dad leaned away from his grip on the chair. A smile on his face, he walked away. “Wow,” her mother let out.

Quinn pulled his lips between his teeth as he held his breath.

“How far long?” her mother questioned. Y/N’s lips quivered.

“Eighteen weeks, we wanted to wait until it was safer to say anything,”

“Oh of course, honey, this is incredible news!” her mother expressed as she covered her mouth with her hands. She stood up and turned around and hugged her husband. Y/N looked towards Quinn, teary eyed.

“Does Bella know?” her father asked as he walked towards the camera, his eyes were teary. She’s never seen her father cry, let alone happy tears.

Quinn started laughing nervously. “Isabella had a hunch when she came to visit and snooped around our apartment until she found proof,” Y/N explained as she stared towards the camera.

Her dad rolled his eyes, “Of course she did!”

They spoke on the phone for several more minutes, leaving out the sex of the baby. They still wanted to have a little announcement during Christmas. It was now Quinn’s turn and he was terrified. His parents loved Y/N and were happy that Quinn was happy. They probably would prefer they waited until they were married. But that was still a year or so down the line, too late now. Y/N didn’t want to get married until she was done with her degrees, she wanted her degrees to have her own last name. She wanted to take Quinn’s last name but she wanted her degrees to have her own name.

He took a hold of her chin, as they waited for his parents to call him. He turned her head towards him. He scanned her features before he leaned towards her, kissing her urgently.

“What was that?” she asked barely above a whisper as he pulled away. The laptop started to ring as his mother was calling him. He took a deep breath before he pecked her lips once more.

“Courage,” he muttered before he answered the call. He forced a smile towards the camera, Y/N smiled softly as she looped her arm around Quinn’s. She ran her fingertips along the inside of his palm. “Hi,” Quinn muttered out.

“You guys okay? This looks like a Zoom meeting,” Ellen let out, a small chuckle leaving her lips. Quinn let out a huff of air as he smiled.

“We’re really good, actually,” he mumbled. Y/N kept her gaze on Quinn, giving him encouragement. He swallowed hard as he took a deep breath.

“Then what’s going on?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Jim nodded encouragingly as if he knew what the news was.

Quinn looked towards Y/N, she interlocked their fingers together as she nodded. “We’re having a baby,” he choked out as he shifted his gaze towards the screen. His parents' eyes went wide as they looked towards one another. “And we’re happy about it,” Quinn continued as he pressed his lips together.

Ellen quickly shifted her gaze towards her phone, a slow grin forming to her lips, “Why wouldn’t you be? This is amazing!” she let out before she set her phone down, turning and hugging Jim. He laughed excitedly.

“We’re having a grandbaby!” Jim let out excitedly.

Quinn shut his eyes as he let out a sigh of relief. Y/N tilted her head as she rested it onto Quinn’s shoulder. He leaned and kissed the top of her head as he shifted his gaze towards the screen.

“This is incredible, son,” Jim let out, “Have you told your brothers?” he questioned.

Quinn shook his head, “They are next on the list,” he mumbled.

They spoke on the phone for several more minutes before Quinn ended the call, afraid his father would tell his brothers before he got the chance to. Jack and Luke tend to ignore text messages so Quinn decided to simply call them and hope both of them were home.

“I’m a little shocked at how well this is going,” Y/N mumbled as she ran her hand through the ends of his hair while he turned his gaze towards her. “I just thought there would’ve been a lecture alongside the happiness,” she said with a dry laugh. Quinn rolled his eyes playfully.

“I was expecting the get married before the baby comes lecture,” he let out. She nodded along with him. “It’s still a little hard to believe that this is actually happening,” he expressed. She nodded as she rested her hand on her stomach.

“I know,” she mumbled, “She’s growing inside of me and I still feel like it isn’t real,” she let out. He smiled as he leaned towards her kissing her. She pulled away, resting her forehead against his, “Come on let’s tell your brothers,” she whispered.

He took a deep breath as he began calling Jack, who was more likely to pick up over Luke. Jack answered on the fourth ring. “Quinny!” he shouted in a long drawn out sing-song way. “What’s wrong? Oh shit, you guys didn’t break up did you?” Jack questioned as he sat up from his lying position on the couch.

“No, nothing like that. Is Luke home?” Quinn asked as he rested his hand on Y/N’s thigh.

“Lukey! Luke, come here!” Jack shouted. “He’s in his room,” he muttered.

“What?!” Luke asked, his voice rasped as he walked out of the room.

“Quinn and Y/N want to talk to us,” Jack expressed. Luke groaned as he stood behind Jack, getting into the view of the camera. His hair was messy as he was hidden in a hoodie.

“If you woke me up from my nap to tell me that you two are engaged then I’ll fucking kill you,” Luke rasped out as he leaned forward. Y/N laughed as she tilted her head back. Quinn rolled his eyes.

“See I thought they were telling us they broke up, he looked like he saw a ghost,” Jack tilted his head back as he met Luke’s gaze briefly.

“He always looks like that,” Luke pointed towards the screen. Quinn dropped his head as he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Okay, okay will you stop?” Quinn said while laughing. “We’re not engaged, we’re not breaking up. We’re-uh-” he paused as he met Y/N’s gaze for a second, “We’re having a baby,”

Jack’s mouth fell open as his eyes widened. Luke smiled widely as he leaned back, “See now that’s a reason to wake a man up,” he let out while laughing. “How long have you been keeping that a secret?” Luke questioned further.

“Since July,” Y/N let out.

“Quinn sucks at keeping secrets, how did you guys manage not to tell anyone?” Jack asked, laughing.

“How many times did I call you guys over the last few months?” Quinn let out laughing, “What like three times? That’s how I kept it a secret,”

“Can’t wait to be the cool uncle,” Luke muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest. Jack gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, right, that’s my job,” Jack scoffed. Quinn turned his gaze towards Y/N, rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean? You’re boring, man. That kid's gonna love Uncle Luke,” he said while pursing his lips forward.

“Oh please! I’m boring?! Have you heard anything come out of your mouth recently!”

“Quinn, who’s gonna be the cool uncle?” Luke asked as he leaned towards the camera.

“You can’t ask Quinn that, he’s biased, he likes you better than me,” Jack protested, “Y/N who’s the better, more handsome, more cool uncle?”

Y/N barked out a laugh, “I’m not answering that,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “We’ll let our baby decide who she likes better,” she paused, her eyes widened. Quinn shifted his gaze towards Y/N.

“No way, it's a girl?!” Luke asked excitedly.

“You didn’t hear that!” Quinn quickly let out. Luke shook his head while laughing. “Mom and Dad don’t know that part yet, you didn’t hear anything. Keep it to yourselves,” Quinn expressed as he kept his gaze on Y/N. She was on the verge of tears, with her pregnancy her hormones have been all over the place. Which led to her being more emotional than normal.

“Mom’s going to freak the fuck out,” Jack let out excitedly.

March

It was early, their daughter was coming two weeks early. Her parents were planning on flying in next week but here she was in the passenger seat of her best friend’s car, feeling as though she was about to give birth any minute. Which was entirely not true. Her water broke but she was nowhere near dilated where she needed to be. Her doctor told her to come in anyway since she was a little early before the due date.

She wasn’t quite sure on how to contact Quinn, he was in the middle of a game. Quinn gave her the equipment manager’s number in case something like this happened. She wanted to wait until she was at the hospital and actually admitted.

Riley, her best friend, parked the car as close to the entrance of the hospital as she could. She turned her body towards her. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell Quinn right now? It’s intermission, he can be here in like thirty minutes,” she offered, Y/N shook her head as she rested her hand on her large bump. A contraction started as she tilted her head back against the headrest. “Oh god that was like only seven minutes, I feel like that was fast. You should call him,” she expressed.

“Nope, not until I am in a bed,” she groaned as she unbuckled her seatbelt as she pushed the car door open. She carefully climbed out of the car, “This little girl can wait until her daddy is showered and done with his g-game,” she muttered as she started waddling towards the entrance of the hospital.

Riley quickly jumped out of the car and took a hold of the hospital bag. Locking the car she jogged towards Y/N. “Damn, you’re fast for a pregnant girl,” she muttered as she came side by side with her.

“I ran track in high school, what do you expect?” she mumbled out. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, it was her mom. She took a sharp breath as she brought her phone to her ear, “Hey Mom,”

“Hi sweetheart, how’s the baby?” her mother asked. She’s gotten to the point where every question is directed towards and about the baby.

“Actually my water broke and I’m at the hospital-” she let out, her mother gasped dramatically, “Quinn doesn’t know, he’s still playing-” she gasped again.

“There are no flights to Vancouver at this hour! Oh god-” her mother let out, teary-eyed.

“It’s okay, I promise we’ll be fine, I’ll call you and keep y-oh god-you posted,”

It had been only ten minutes before Y/N was placed in a room. She had simply sat down when Riley turned on the TV in the room, it showed the Canucks game. They were winning 4-o as they showed a goal that Quinn assisted on. “It’s safe to say that Quinn can leave the game,” Riley pointed towards the TV.

Y/N texted the equipment manager, alerting him of the situation. After a few seconds, the broadcast announced, “It looks like Quinn Hughes is not on the bench, once we get more information on that, we’ll let you know,” the camera showed the equipment manager talking with Quinn and him nodding.

He stared blankly towards the ice in front of him. He took a sharp breath as Tyler beside him nudged him excitedly. Quinn smiled as he spun off the bench and headed down the tunnel.

Y/N stood up from the bed as she walked towards the bathroom, carrying her required hospital gown she had to wear. She struggled to get her shirt and sweatpants off as another contraction was hitting her pretty hard. Another minute went by and she was completely covered in the hospital gown.

“They’re doing good, she wanted to wait until she had a room. She didn’t want to get turned away and then having you leave the game for no reason,” Riley explained on the phone. Y/N smiled towards Riley as she waddled out of the bathroom, “Here she is,” Riley mumbled as she handed the phone over to Y/N.

“Hey?! You alright? I’m showering real fast and I’ll be there or-or I can just leave now,” Quinn ranted, he sounded out of breath.

“I love you, I love you so much, please shower before you get here,” she said while laughing. Riley helped her sit down on the bed. Quinn laughed, “We’re good, we’re just waiting on the doctor, I have to call your parents before the broadcasters announce it,” she explained.

“Okay, yeah, yeah do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he explained, “I love you,” he let out before he hung up the phone. She quickly dialed Ellen. She answered on the second ring.

“Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?” Ellen asked instantly. Y/N let out breath she was holding as she got comfortable on the bed, or at least as comfortable she could get.

“I’m in labor, but everything seems to be fine,” she explained, slightly out of breath.

“Oh my god, okay, we’ll try to get to Vancouver as soon as we can,” she expressed, “This is so exciting!” she expressed.

She shifted her gaze towards the screen, “It looks like Quinn Hughes is okay, great news actually. He had to leave the game early because he’s having a baby. Congratulations Captain!” the broadcasters announced. Y/N felt her heart beat as the words echoed in her mind.

“How are you doing?” she asked, a sob quickly climbed into Y/N’s throat.

She took in a sharp shaky breath as she looked towards Riley, a tear quickly fell on her cheek. “Terrified,” she mumbled out as her lips quivered.

“Oh honey, it’ll be okay. Quinn will be there with you soon, Your parents will be there. Jim and I will be there. You’re not alone, you guys are going to be okay,” Ellen comforted. Y/N nodded as her lower lip quivered.

“O-okay,” she let out.

“We love you, Y/N,” Ellen expressed.

“Love you guys too,” she let out before they ended the call. Riley quickly came to her side. Riley rested her hand on top of Y/N’s.

It took another forty-five minutes before Quinn jogged into the room. “Hey, I’m here, are you okay?” he asked as he quickly went straight to her bedside. She was gripping the side of the hospital bed.

“Yeah, I’m good-” she held her breath. Quinn looked towards Riley.

“The doctor said she’s about five centimeters dilated and that her contractions are getting stronger,” Riley said as she crossed her arms over her chest. Quinn smiled gratefully towards her. They didn’t discuss if Riley was allowed to be there but that was because it wasn’t a discussion. Riley and Y/N have been best friends since they were freshman in high school.

Riley moved to Vancouver after she graduated college, partly for Y/N and her job market.

“What can I do?” he asked Y/N as she slowly loosened her grip and opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. She took a deep breath as her lips quivered.

“Hold me,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he quickly climbed beside her inside the bed, not a single ounce of hesitation. He adjusted carefully not to lie on any wires or in any way that could mess up anything. He pressed his lips against her forehead as he looped his arms around her body, letting her snuggle up against him.

Riley smiled softly as she walked out of the room, giving them their privacy for a while.

He ran his fingers through her hair soothingly, as he periodically pressed his lips against her forehead.

It took twelve hours.

Twelve hours before their daughter was born. Both of their parents were able to be there. Not in the room, but they were there for emotional support. On March 10th at 9:37 AM, their daughter was born.

It was only her and Quinn in the room with all of the doctors and nurses. Their daughter screamed loudly after she was born. She was placed on Y/N’s chest. She was shaking from adrenaline but the second her eyes landed on her daughter it felt like everything was right.

The second she was laid on Y/N’s chest, she had stopped crying. Stirring slightly as Quinn delicately and nervously ran his hand along the small head of his daughter.

It took about an hour after the birth before Quinn even left the room. Y/N was asleep, reluctantly but her body craved it. Their daughter was asleep in the small hospital bed they provided for her. Quinn walked into the lobby to see his parents and her parents. He smiled widely once he met his mom’s eyes.

“She’s here,” he muttered out. Ellen stood up and instantly hugged her son. They all excitedly shot up from their seats. “I was waiting until they fell asleep, Y/N’s exhausted,” he mumbled as he pulled away. He began cycling through hugs between each person.

“How are you doing?” Y/N’s mom asked. Quinn shook his head slowly as he let out a long breath.

“I’m just happy,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Tired but my girls are more important,” he let out.

Jim engulfed his son in a huge hug. “So proud of you,” he mumbled into his ear. Quinn pulled away as he pressed his lips together.

“Do you guys have a name?” Y/N’s dad asked. Quinn smiled widely as he nodded.

“Elliana, we’re going to call her Ellie,” he explained.

“Oh your brothers are calling!” Ellen said excitedly. She handed her phone over to Quinn quickly. Quinn answered the call. Both Jack and Luke were fighting for more of the camera view. Their eyes lit up once they saw Quinn.

“Can we call you Daddy yet?!” Jack let out. The entire room started laughing, even people who didn't know the family started laughing.

“Please don’t,” he let out, shaking his head. “But yes, your niece is here,” he explained. Both Luke and Jack smiled widely.

“Oh man that’s amazing,” Luke let out, his voice breaking.

“Are you crying?” Jack asked. Luke shook his head while tilting his head back.

“We’ve got a tiny little niece, dude, this is crazy. We can’t even meet her for a while,” Luke let out. Quinn pouted, sad that his brother’s weren’t able to come see him and his beautiful little girl.

“The second the season is done, you boys are coming to meet her,” Quinn said teary eyed.

May

Quinn was exhausted to say the least but he would never change a single thing. His parents and Y/N’s parents were staying at an AirBnB close by to help with the baby when Quinn was away on road games.

Jack was back in Michigan recovering from his surgery while Luke was away on the Men’s World’s tournament. It didn’t stop either of them from calling Y/N every day to see their niece. Neither of them have been able to meet her yet, it was tearing them apart.

“How has it been with playoffs and having a newborn at home?” the interviewer asked. Quinn's eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“It’s been a lot. I would love to be home with her every chance I could get but unfortunately that’s just not how the timing panned out,” he let out a dry chuckle, “She’s still so tiny so it breaks my heart that I can’t be with her all the time. But hopefully things go our way and it’ll all be worth it,” he explained.

“Thanks Quinn,” they all collectively said as they walked away from him with their microphones. Quinn stood up quickly as he began walking out of the locker room, his mind preoccupied with seeing his little girl.

It was hard to manage focusing on the playoffs and the fact that he was a new father. But Y/N was so strong through the whole process.

He drove home quickly. He was fast out of his car and into his apartment building. He cautiously stepped inside, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. Y/N was sitting on the couch, folding some laundry. “Hey gorgeous,” he mumbled as he quietly locked the door. She smiled towards him as she lifted her gaze.

“Hey captain, how was morning skate?” she asked teasingly. He rolled his eyes playfully as he walked towards the couch and sat down directly behind her. He looped his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him.

“It was good, nothing too crazy,” he whispered as he pressed his lips on her jawline. She giggled as she leaned her body against his chest. “How are you, my love?” he asked as he ran his hand across her stomach.

“I’m okay, napped for a bit while your mom and dad were here this morning, Ellie is still sleeping. I feel like your mom has some magic touch or something,” she explained as she ran her hand across the top of his.

He chuckled as he pressed his lips against her shoulder, “If you want to sleep longer, I can do this while you go sleep,” he offered.

She shook her head as she tilted her head back against his shoulder. “Nope, this is perfect. I miss you,” she mumbled. She tilted her head to the side as Quinn tilted his gaze towards her. He scanned her features, knowing she was exhausted but listened regardless. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently. He took a hold of her cheek, holding her in place.

Suddenly the baby monitor sounded, Ellie was crying. She pulled away chuckling, “She always has perfect timing,” she mumbled against his lips. He pecked her lips quickly before he slipped away from his grasp on Y/N.

“She does, doesn’t she?” he let out, “I got her,” he mumbled before he wandered down the hall towards the nursery. He slowly pushed inside the room, the loud cries quite literally making his heart break. “Oh darling, it’s okay,” Quinn let out quietly as he walked towards the crib, slowly reaching down and picking her up. As soon as Quinn held her, she was soothed.

Quinn smiled towards his little girl, admiring the light color eyes and soft sound of her breathing. “You just wanted attention, huh?” he let out as he slowly walked towards the rocking chair. He cautiously sat down, staring into his little girl’s eyes. “That’s okay, Momma can wait,” he whispered, a soft laugh leaving his throat.

He slowly continued rocking in the chair, staring down at his little girl. She looked a lot like Y/N but she had his eyes. She was beautiful. “Quinn,” Y/N mumbled from the door. Quinn lifted his gaze, smiling softly towards her. Oblivious to Y/N standing there, he had no idea how long she was there.

“Hi gorgeous,” he whispered. She grinned as she tilted her head against the door frame, “We did a good job, didn’t we?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to his little girl.

Tags

I love him quinn hughes quinn hughes x reader nhl x reader

852 notes View Post

huggybearswife

6 months ago

I’m trying to manifest a Canucks win rn!

I want a Quinny goal and bedsy because he’s home for the first time but overall Canuck win

Tags

quinn hughes canucks lb captain quinn connor bedard

10 notes View Post

huggybearswife

3 months ago

🥰

i will be your father figure / put your tiny hand in mine / i will be your preacher teacher, anything you have in mind / i will be the one who loves you, til the end of time | sidney crosby⁸⁷

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 11.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you needed a job, sidney crosby needed a nanny. it was supposed to be simple—watch the kids, keep your head down, and finish your phd. but nothing about sidney was simple, and the longer you stayed, the harder it became to ignore the way your heart betrayed you every time he did something so dad-like it hurt.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | age gap (reader is 22, sid is 36), single dad!sid, mentions of divorce, deadbeat mom, daddy issues storyline thats a big part of the plot (hence the title), mild angst, pining, tensionnnnn, sid being an unaware dilf, reader being so down bad it’s pathetic, teasing, banter, alcohol consumption, soft moments, so much tension it’s physically painful

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this was supposed to be slutty but then it turned into mutual emotional damage with a side of yearning. and i know this is a reader insert but the backstory is very needed in this plotline.

and there will probably be a part 2, not sure yet. i had too much fun writing sid as the most dad-like man to ever exist, and reader being so in denial about the way he’s literally perfect. if you like slow burn and suffering, this one’s for u<3

Sidney Crosby was used to chaos.

It came with the territory—fifteen years in the NHL, two kids, and an ex-wife who made divorce court feel like a seven-game series with no overtime winner. He could handle pressure. Thrived under it, even. But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for single parenthood.

It had been a year since the ink dried on the divorce papers, and yet, somehow, things still felt unsettled. He had the kids most of the time, which was exactly what he wanted, but balancing their schedules with his own? That was a whole different challenge. There were early morning skates, team meetings, and road trips stacked against school drop-offs, bedtime stories, and the occasional existential meltdown over why six-year-old Jack’s favorite dinosaur didn’t have enough fossils to be officially classified.

Then there was Olivia—eight going on seventeen—who had mastered the art of an unimpressed stare long before she ever learned to tie her skates. She adored her dad, but she was sharp, a little skeptical, and old enough to remember how bad things had gotten with her mom before Sidney finally walked away.

Samantha, his ex-wife, had been—how to put it lightly—a mistake. The kind of mistake that came with an expensive wedding, two kids, and a prenup she’d tried (and failed) to contest. They had been young, and Sidney, for all his talent and discipline on the ice, had been naïve. He thought love meant pushing through anything. She thought love meant power, control, and a lifestyle she wasn’t willing to give up. When she realized Sidney wasn’t going to let her spend her way through his contract extension, things got nasty. Fast.

The custody battle had been brutal, but in the end, the courts sided with stability—and stability had always been Sidney. Still, Samantha had just enough visitation to make things difficult. She’d cancel last minute, show up late, make promises she had no intention of keeping. Olivia was starting to see through it. Jack, not so much. He still ran to the door whenever she said she’d come.

Sidney hated that part the most.

Which was why, after months of barely holding it together, he finally admitted he needed help. Not from family, not from teammates, but from someone neutral. Someone who wouldn’t look at him like he was some tragic, overworked martyr but would actually help him fix things.

So, for the first time in his life, Sidney Crosby hired a nanny.

And that’s where you came in.

The nanny search had been a last-resort kind of thing. The idea of bringing a stranger into his home, into his kids' lives, felt unnatural. Sidney wasn’t used to outsourcing his responsibilities. He was the guy who showed up. Always. But showing up wasn’t enough when he was running on fumes, barely holding together the pieces of his carefully managed life.

His teammates had suggested things. “Get a chef, man.” “Hire a personal assistant.” “You need a live-in nanny, like, yesterday.” But it wasn’t that simple. He didn’t want someone cooking quinoa bowls and pretending to know his kids. He wanted someone real. Someone who wouldn’t just clock in and out but who could meet Olivia’s sharp eyes without flinching and actually listen to Jack’s endless dinosaur facts.

The search had been exhausting. Too many candidates who looked at him with stars in their eyes, seeing Sidney Crosby instead of a dad desperate for help. Too many who were stiff, impersonal, or, worst of all, the kind who called his kids “adorable” but clearly had no patience for a high-energy six-year-old and an eight-year-old who had mastered sarcasm young.

Then, there was you.

You weren’t what he expected.

At twenty-two, you were younger than most applicants, but you had this quiet confidence about you, the kind that made Olivia’s skeptical stare turn curious instead of dismissive. You didn’t treat Jack like a little kid; you took his dinosaur knowledge seriously, even challenging some of his facts, which instantly won you favor. And you didn’t treat Sidney like some hockey superstar or a pitiful single dad in over his head. You were professional, sure, but also… normal. Like this was just a job you wanted to do well, not some golden opportunity to get close to a famous athlete.

The fact that you were a Ph.D. student at the University of Pittsburgh was the kicker. You weren’t looking to nanny forever. You had a life, goals, things outside of this. That made him trust you more. You were busy, too. Just in a different way.

He hired you after the second interview.

It was supposed to be temporary—help through the season, maybe reassess in the summer. But Sidney had a feeling, deep down, that once you settled in, things wouldn’t feel temporary at all.

The first week was awkward.

Not because you were bad at the job—you were great. But because Sidney wasn’t used to sharing control. He still found himself hovering when you helped Jack with breakfast, stepping in when Olivia needed help with her math homework, even though you clearly had it handled. It took effort for him to step back, to let you take the reins on little things, to not micromanage every second of his kids' lives.

Jack took to you immediately, eager to show you his dinosaur books, his Lego collection, and every single one of his hockey cards. He followed you around the house like a shadow, peppering you with questions about your classes, your favorite color, whether or not you believed in aliens.

Olivia was harder.

She didn’t dislike you, but she watched. She observed. She wasn’t mean—just cautious. She’d been through enough to know that adults came and went, that some were worth trusting and some weren’t. It wasn’t personal. It was just… how she protected herself.

You handled it well. You didn’t force yourself into her space. You let her warm up on her own terms, and slowly, bit by bit, she did.

The first real breakthrough came one night when Sidney was stuck late at practice. You were helping Olivia with her homework, and she sighed, erasing the same math problem for the third time.

“I’m just not good at this,” she mumbled, frustration evident in her voice.

You didn’t brush it off or tell her she was wrong. Instead, you nodded thoughtfully. “Math was hard for me too, you know. I used to get so mad at it.”

Olivia blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. And now I’m doing a Ph.D., and I still get mad at math sometimes.”

That made her smile—just a small one, but it was something.

By the time Sidney got home, Olivia had finished her homework without a meltdown, and Jack was half-asleep on the couch, curled up under a blanket you’d thrown over him.

It wasn’t some life-changing moment, but for Sidney, it was proof. Proof that he’d made the right choice. That maybe, for the first time in a long time, things were finally settling into place.

And he wasn’t sure why that scared him so much.

You needed the job more than you let on.

On the surface, it looked like a side gig—something to help pay the bills while you worked on your Ph.D. at the University of Pittsburgh. People assumed you were just another overachiever balancing too much at once, trying to make things work. And sure, that was part of it. But the real reason? The one you didn’t talk about?

You were broke.

Like, dangerously close to losing your apartment, eating ramen five nights a week, debating whether coffee was an essential expense broke.

Grad school wasn’t cheap, and while you had scholarships covering tuition, the rest—rent, books, food, transportation—was on you. You’d been juggling part-time jobs for months, tutoring undergrads, working late shifts at a bookstore, even considering barista work despite your well-documented inability to make a decent latte. Nothing paid enough, and nothing gave you the flexibility you needed for research, teaching assistant duties, and the mountain of work that came with your dissertation.

You were drowning.

Then, you saw the listing for the nanny job.

At first, you almost dismissed it. You weren’t a professional nanny. Sure, you had experience—you’d babysat all through high school and undergrad, worked summer camps, and even helped raise your younger siblings when your mom had to work long hours—but would Sidney Crosby, the Sidney Crosby, really hire someone like you?

But the pay was good. Really good. And the hours? Surprisingly flexible.

You could make it work.

So, you applied.

And then somehow, impossibly, you got the job.

Why were you so good with kids? Because you got them. You knew what it was like to be a kid who needed someone to show up.

Growing up, your home life had been… complicated. Not bad, not in a way people whispered about, but hard. Your mom was a single parent, working two, sometimes three jobs just to keep things afloat. Your dad wasn’t in the picture—he left when you were young, and you stopped waiting for him to come back a long time ago. That left you as the oldest, the one who had to step up. You packed lunches, helped with homework, figured out how to soothe scraped knees and temper tantrums. You learned early how to be patient, how to listen, how to read between the lines of what kids said and what they actually meant.

You didn’t resent it. If anything, it made you better. It made you someone people trusted. Someone kids trusted.

So, when Olivia was wary of you, keeping her distance, you understood. You’d been that kid, too.

And when Jack rambled on about dinosaurs for twenty minutes straight, you didn’t just nod along distractedly—you engaged. You asked questions. Challenged his theories. Because you knew what it felt like to be small in a world that didn’t always take you seriously.

You weren’t just good with kids. You were exactly what they needed.

And maybe, deep down, this job was exactly what you needed too.

The grocery store had become a thing.

At first, you weren’t sure if Sidney had ever actually taken Olivia and Jack shopping himself or if food just magically appeared in the house whenever they needed it. But by the second week, you realized it was a necessary trip—Jack burned through snacks like a full-grown athlete, and Olivia had opinions about what was in the fridge.

So, you made it part of your weekly routine. A little adventure, something to break up the monotony of school, homework, and structured schedules.

And a month into the job?

You actually liked it.

You liked the way Jack made even the most boring errand feel like an expedition, weaving through the aisles like he was navigating a jungle, determined to find the best cereal. You liked how Olivia, who had been so reserved at first, had started easing into the role of The Responsible One, rolling her eyes at her brother but subtly making sure he didn’t wander too far.

You liked them. A lot.

That day, the three of you were deep in the snack aisle when it happened.

“I don’t get it,” Jack announced, dragging his fingers along the shelves as he scanned for his favorite granola bars. “Why don’t they have dinosaur-shaped ones? That would be way cooler.”

“You should write a letter to the company,” you suggested, nudging the cart forward. “Start a petition.”

Jack lit up like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “Wait, could I do that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Whoa.” He nodded, like you’d just unlocked an entirely new part of his brain.

Olivia, walking slightly ahead, snorted. “You’re creating a monster,” she muttered. But there was no bite in it—just mild amusement.

You were about to respond when Olivia suddenly stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring at something on a display shelf near the end.

You followed her gaze.

Vinyl records.

More specifically, a Taylor Swift vinyl.

“Wait.” You slowed the cart. “You have a record player?”

She blinked, as if realizing she had reacted to something without thinking. But then, after a beat, she nodded. “Yeah. My uncle got me one for my birthday.”

“That’s actually really cool.” You stepped closer, reading the label. Red (Taylor’s Version). “Good choice.”

Olivia hesitated, her fingers hovering over the edge of the plastic wrapping. “…do you like her?”

You let out a scoff that was so deeply offended that she actually cracked a small smile. “Do I like her? Olivia. I have been a Swiftie since I was, like, twelve. I have been through it. The ‘Speak Now’ era? Devastating. ‘Reputation’? Life-changing.”

Her eyes narrowed, like she was assessing if you were for real. “You know about the eras?”

You gasped dramatically. “Olivia, I could write a thesis on the eras. I could teach a course.”

Something shifted in her then—something subtle, but important.

Because for the first time since you’d started this job, she wasn’t speaking to you like an adult. She wasn’t guarded, cautious, or testing you. She was just an eight-year-old girl standing in a grocery store, holding a Taylor Swift album, grinning.

“…What’s your favorite album?” she asked, like this was the real test.

You tapped your chin, playing it up. “That’s a huge question. I think I have to go with ‘Folklore,’ but ‘1989’ is a classic.”

She nodded approvingly, and then, a little quieter, admitted, “I like ‘Red’ the most.”

You nudged the album in her hands. “Then I think we should probably get this, don’t you?”

Her grip tightened, like she hadn’t actually expected you to agree. “Dad would say no.”

“Well, I’m not Dad.” You leaned in conspiratorially. “And I think this qualifies as an essential purchase.”

Olivia bit her lip, fighting back a smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Jack groaned from behind you. “This is boring. Can we go back to the dinosaurs?”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed the vinyl off the shelf, placing it in the cart with a decisive thunk. “Nope. We’re having a moment, Jack. You’ll live.”

And for the rest of the trip, Olivia didn’t walk ahead.

She walked beside you. Talking. Smiling. Just being a kid.

And maybe, for the first time, you felt like you weren’t just the nanny. You were part of something.

Dinner that night was a little different.

Usually, mealtimes were at the table—Sidney liked structure, and you could tell he wanted to keep some sense of normalcy for the kids. But tonight? Olivia had a request.

“Can we eat in the living room?” she asked, her voice a little hesitant, like she expected the automatic no that probably came most of the time. “Just this once? We can watch The Eras Tour while we eat.”

Sidney, fresh off practice and visibly exhausted, had raised a brow. “The what?”

You gasped. “Sidney. The Eras Tour. The concert film. The biggest cultural event of our time.”

He gave you a blank look. “You’re joking.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jack, already seated at the table, piped up. “What’s an era?”

“A long time,” Olivia mumbled, shoving a piece of chicken onto her fork.

“In Taylor Swift terms,” you corrected, “it’s a concept. A legacy. A lifestyle.”

Sidney pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, sure. Living room it is.”

And so, you all sat around the coffee table, plates balanced in laps, watching as Taylor Swift took over the screen.

Jack had fought hard against sleep.

For the first hour of The Eras Tour, he’d fidgeted through every ballad, perking up only when the stadium lights on screen exploded into color. He’d even tried to pretend he cared—asking Olivia questions about why Taylor Swift had so many different outfits and whether she was richer than their dad (Olivia had assured him that she absolutely was). But by the time Taylor launched into Enchanted, his little head had started dipping against Sidney’s arm.

He barely made it through Reputation before sleep won.

Now, he was completely out, his face smushed against a couch pillow, his legs tangled in the throw blanket Olivia had draped over him earlier. His mouth was parted just slightly, deep breaths pulling him further into whatever dream world he’d sunk into. You doubted a freight train could wake him at this point.

Sidney sighed, shifting slightly. “I should put him to bed.” His voice was quiet, careful not to disturb his son.

You nodded, tucking your legs under you on the couch. Olivia was still curled up in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes fixed on the screen. She’d barely moved all night, utterly absorbed in the concert. Even now, as All Too Well (10 Minute Version) started playing, she just stared, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the couch cushion beside her.

Sidney stood slowly, careful not to jostle Jack too much as he scooped him up. The six-year-old barely stirred, just tucked his face further into his dad’s chest with a sleepy murmur.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Sidney murmured, heading toward the stairs.

Olivia didn’t respond.

You watched her for a moment, waiting for her to comment on how Jack always passed out first, or maybe some sarcastic remark about how you and Sidney were so uncultured when it came to Taylor Swift. But she stayed quiet, eyes still locked on the screen, a little crease forming between her brows.

Something in her posture had shifted.

She looked… small.

Not in the literal sense—Olivia had always carried herself like she was older than eight, like she’d already learned not to expect much from the world. But now, curled into herself like that, her expression unusually unreadable, she actually looked her age.

A kid trying really hard to hold something in.

You adjusted the blanket over your lap, keeping your voice light. “Okay, we made it to Red. Pretty legendary.”

Olivia didn’t respond at first. She kept watching, but there was something distant in her eyes, like she wasn’t really seeing it. Then, quietly, she said, “I don’t see my mom.”

It was so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

You stilled, glancing at her. She wasn’t looking at you—her gaze was still fixed on Taylor, like if she focused hard enough, maybe she wouldn’t feel the weight of what she’d just admitted.

Your stomach twisted, but you kept your voice even. “Yeah?”

She swallowed. “She’s… busy. She says she has to work a lot. That it’s important.” Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the couch cushion. “I think she just doesn’t want to see us.”

Your chest ached at the quiet finality in her voice, the way she said it like she had already made peace with it. Eight years old, and she spoke like someone who had long since stopped hoping for something different.

You didn’t say anything right away. You knew better than to rush into a response, to give some generic reassurance like Oh, I’m sure that’s not true!—because Olivia wasn’t a kid who believed in sugarcoating. She wouldn’t take comfort in some empty promise.

So, instead, you let the silence settle. Let her lead.

A beat passed. Then, finally, she exhaled. “She moved to New York last year. Said there were better job opportunities there.”

You nodded slowly. “That must’ve been really hard.”

She shrugged, but it was too forced to be nonchalant. “She wasn’t around much before that, anyway.” A pause. Then, with a small, bitter smile: “Jack doesn’t even notice. I mean, I don’t think he remembers what it was like before. He was little when they got divorced.”

You stayed quiet, giving her space to keep talking.

She hesitated, then hugged her knees closer to her chest. “It’s different for me.” Her voice dipped lower. “I remember everything. The fighting. The way they stopped talking to each other unless they had to.” She bit her lip. “The way Dad tried to hide it from us.”

Your throat tightened.

She finally glanced at you, her expression carefully measured. “It wasn’t like, some big thing. No one threw plates or anything.” She exhaled through her nose, like she was frustrated with herself for even explaining. “But it was worse, in a way. It was like… watching something fall apart really, really slowly. Like, at first, you think maybe they can fix it, but then one day you just know they won’t.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “That’s… a lot to deal with, Olivia.”

She let out a humorless little laugh. “Yeah. I guess.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter: “Dad never talks about it.”

You stayed quiet, sensing that she wasn’t finished.

“He just… acts like it’s fine. Like it’s normal that she doesn’t come to our games, or our school stuff. Like it’s normal that she only calls on birthdays.” Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her pajama pants. “And I know he’s not fine. I know he hates it. But he just—he doesn’t say anything.”

Your heart ached for her.

For Sidney, too.

Because it made sense, didn’t it? Of course he wouldn’t talk about it. Sidney Crosby had spent his entire life being the person everyone leaned on. The one who took the pressure, the expectations, and carried them. He didn’t complain. He didn’t show when he was struggling.

But Olivia saw.

She wasn’t a kid who needed things spelled out for her. She noticed when her dad got that faraway look in his eyes during Jack’s hockey practices, like he wished things were different. She noticed the way he never said anything bad about their mother, even when she deserved it. She noticed how hard he worked to make sure they were okay, even if it meant pretending he was.

And Olivia? She was just like him. Carrying everything on her little shoulders.

She turned her gaze back to the screen, where Taylor was singing about a love slipping through her fingers. “I don’t think he ever wanted us to know how much it hurt.”

Your heart broke at the way she said it—so certain, so resigned. Like it was just the way things had to be.

You took a breath, choosing your words carefully. “You know… just because someone doesn’t talk about something doesn’t mean they don’t want to.” You hesitated. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how.”

She was quiet for a long time.

Then, finally, she nodded. Just once. She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to.

Instead, she shifted slightly, leaning the tiniest bit closer—not quite touching, but close enough that if either of you moved even an inch, your shoulders would brush.

And you stayed like that.

Silent. Together. Letting All Too Well play in the background, filling the spaces between the words she wasn’t quite ready to say yet.

The house was quiet when Olivia finally went upstairs for bed, leaving you alone in the dim glow of the TV. The Eras Tour had ended, but neither you nor Sidney had moved to turn it off yet. The screen sat idle, a soft instrumental playing as the credits rolled, filling the otherwise silent space.

You let out a slow breath and rubbed your hands over your face. Tonight had been… a lot.

Olivia opening up had been unexpected, and it left this tight, aching feeling in your chest. You could still hear her voice—quiet but firm, steady in that way that only kids who had to grow up too fast could be. And even though she hadn’t said it outright, you knew she was waiting for someone to prove her wrong. To prove to her that not all parents disappeared, that love didn’t always have an expiration date.

And Sidney?

God. It hurt to think about him.

The way he carried everything on his own, the way he tried so damn hard to keep it together for them. You had seen that kind of quiet suffering before.

And maybe that was why you had always been so shy around him.

It was ridiculous, really. You were 22 years old—you shouldn’t be acting like some nervous teenager around your boss. But Sidney Crosby was just… intimidating in a way you couldn’t quite put into words.

It wasn’t just that he was him—the legend, the hockey star, the man whose face had been on cereal boxes when you were growing up. It was the fact that he was so much more than that.

He was a dad who knew the exact way Jack liked his peanut butter sandwiches cut. A man who kissed his daughter’s forehead before leaving for practice like it was second nature. A person who had been burned by love but still got up every day and did his best for the two little people who needed him most.

And he was—

Well, handsome.

It was stupid. So, so stupid. But every time he walked into a room, your stomach did this ridiculous little flip, and it wasn’t fair that someone could make a hoodie and sweatpants look that good. It wasn’t fair that he had the kind of presence that made you hyper-aware of yourself—of the way you spoke, of the way your cheeks got hot when he so much as looked at you.

It was just a stupid crush. A stupid, completely inappropriate crush.

You exhaled, shaking the thought away, and stood up, stretching.

Time to go home.

It had been through everything with you—your old, beat-up Ford.

You’d had it since you were sixteen, bought secondhand with money you had scraped together from summer jobs. It had seen late-night study sessions, spontaneous road trips, and more break-downs than you could count. You knew it inside and out—the little rattle it made when you hit a certain speed, the way you had to jiggle the key just right to get the engine to turn over.

And tonight?

Tonight, it had chosen violence.

You turned the key. Nothing.

No roar of the engine, no reluctant chugging, not even a weak attempt at life. Just silence.

You tried again.

Click.

You almost screamed.

Instead, you let your forehead drop against the steering wheel, inhaling sharply through your nose.

Not tonight. Not after everything. You were already emotionally drained, already exhausted, and this? This was just the cherry on top.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, already opening the Uber app, because absolutely not. You were not dealing with this right now. You’d handle it in the morning. Right now, you just needed to—

A knock on your window made you jump.

Your heart leapt into your throat, and for a split second, you thought you were about to be murdered in Sidney Crosby’s driveway. But then you turned, and there he was, standing outside in the glow of the porch light, his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Car trouble?” His voice was muffled through the glass, but even in the dim light, you could see the way his brows were drawn together in concern.

You rolled the window down halfway, feeling absurdly embarrassed. “Yeah, it—” You sighed, scrubbing a hand down your face. “It’s old. It does this sometimes.”

Sidney didn’t say anything at first. He just stepped back, hands on his hips, assessing the car like it was a problem he could solve if he stared at it hard enough.

Then, before you could stop him, he was crouching down to peer under the car like some kind of mechanic dad.

Your stupid, traitorous heart clenched. “Sid—”

“Pop the hood,” he said, already moving to the front.

You blinked. “What?”

He shot you a look. “Pop the hood.”

And because you were too flustered to argue, you did.

He lifted it with ease, leaning in to inspect the engine, muttering something under his breath. You sat there, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, watching as he fiddled with something like this was normal.

Like it was normal that he was being so fatherly and competent and stupidly attractive about it. Like it was normal that this whole situation was making your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite name.

Eventually, he let out a sigh and shut the hood, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “It’s not starting tonight.”

You groaned. “Yeah, I got that part.”

He quirked a brow. “You calling a tow?”

You shook your head, holding up your phone. “Uber.”

Sidney frowned.

And not just any frown. It was that dad frown, the one you’d seen him give Jack when he suggested eating four popsicles in a row. The one that brooked no argument.

“Yeah, no,” he said flatly. “You’re not getting in an Uber this late.”

Your stomach flipped. “Sidney, it’s—”

“I’ve got a guest room.” He shrugged, like it was the most obvious solution in the world. “Sleep here tonight. We’ll deal with your car in the morning.”

You stared at him. “I don’t want to impose—”

“You’re not.” He tilted his head, giving you a look that was way too soft for your heart to handle. “C’mon. We’ll make a night of it.”

You exhaled sharply, but… you didn’t argue.

Because for the first time in a long time, someone was looking out for you. Someone was saying, Hey, you don’t have to handle everything alone.

And maybe that was why, as you followed Sidney back inside, something in your chest cracked open just a little bit wider.

Sidney made a beeline for the fridge as soon as you stepped inside, moving through the kitchen like he’d done it a thousand times before—which, obviously, he had, considering it was his kitchen. But there was something oddly comforting about watching him in his own space, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, posture loose, movements easy.

The whole house was quiet now, Olivia and Jack fast asleep upstairs, and the silence felt heavier in the absence of the kids’ usual chatter.

Sidney pulled open the fridge door, scanning its contents before reaching inside and pulling out a bottle of beer. He twisted the cap off with practiced ease, taking a long sip before glancing over at you.

“You want one?” he asked.

For half a second, you actually thought about it—not because you particularly wanted a beer (you weren’t even sure if you were in the mood to drink anything), but just because the idea of having one with Sidney Crosby was somehow hilarious.

But before you could even open your mouth, he snorted and shook his head, muttering, “Never mind. You’re probably too young.”

You froze.

Your entire body stilled. And then, slowly, you blinked at him, because what.

You let out an incredulous laugh, eyebrows practically hitting your hairline. “Wait—what?”

Sidney just shrugged, taking another sip of his beer like he hadn’t just personally attacked you. “You’re, what, twenty?”

Your jaw dropped.

Your actual jaw dropped open.

“I’m twenty-two,” you said, voice high with offense, like that extra two years would suddenly make him view you as a fully grown adult.

Sidney didn’t even look remotely phased. If anything, his lips twitched, like he was amused by your reaction. “Yeah, exactly.”

You gasped. “Sidney.”

“What?” He gave you an actual, real-life smirk, eyes flickering with amusement. “That’s barely legal drinking age.”

“Barely legal drinking age? Oh my God—” You threw your hands up. “I am a grown woman.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Uh-huh.”

“I am, and I’ll have you know that I have been drinking—” You cut yourself off so fast you almost choked.

Sidney raised an eyebrow, watching you flounder like it was his favorite pastime. “Yeah?”

You scowled. “Legally. I’ve been drinking legally. For over a year.”

“Wow. Over a year?” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, that really changes everything.”

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, but it lacked any real bite because he looked so damn entertained, and you hated that it made your stomach flip.

Sidney shook his head, still smirking, and then—just to drive the nail further into your coffin—he reached into the fridge, grabbed a carton of orange juice, and poured some into a glass. Then he slid it across the counter toward you with a straight face.

“There you go, kid.”

You gaped at him.

“Are you serious?”

Sidney grinned, taking another sip of his beer. “Yup.”

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

Because up until now, you had been convinced you were at least in the friend zone—which sucked, but you could deal with it.

But this? This was worse.

This was the daughter zone.

You weren’t just a kid to him—you were, like, some innocent, helpless little thing who needed to be protected from beer. Like you were Jack, asking if he could stay up past bedtime.

And your stupid, idiotic crush went into a full-blown meltdown over it. Because what the hell were you supposed to do with that?

How were you supposed to deal with the way he teased you so effortlessly? The way his voice dipped into something softer, just for a second, like he genuinely thought you were too young to be dealing with broken-down cars and late-night beer?

It was horrible.

And it was attractive as hell. Which was stupid.

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down. “You know, I could drink you under the table.”

Sidney snorted. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

He smirked again, smirked, and you almost threw your juice at him. “I don’t know, kid. You might need a nap halfway through.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m young and full of life.”

That made him laugh, a low, warm sound that sent actual, real shivers down your spine.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he said dryly. “I’m jealous.”

“You should be.” You lifted your juice in a mock toast. “I’m in my prime.”

Sidney just shook his head, utterly unbothered, before taking another sip of his beer.

And you, unfortunately, had to stand there and grapple with the fact that you were completely screwed.

You stared at the glass of orange juice sitting in front of you.

Then you stared at Sidney, who was still smirking like this was the funniest thing in the world.

Then back at the juice.

Because the worst part—the absolute cherry on top of this entire humiliating situation—was that you actually liked orange juice.

Like, a lot.

And you were thirsty, damn it.

So, after a long, dramatic pause, you picked up the glass and took a sip, maintaining perfect eye contact with Sidney just to prove a point.

You hadn’t even set the glass back down before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s too good,” he said, shaking his head. “You were so offended, and you’re drinking it anyway.”

You scowled. “I like orange juice, Sidney. I’m not gonna let you win out of spite.”

He was grinning, and it was so unfair, because no man should look that attractive while actively mocking you. “I don’t know,” he teased. “You were pretty worked up about it. You sure you don’t wanna—what was it?—drink me under the table?”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “I walked right into that one.”

“You did.” His voice was filled with way too much amusement, and when you peeked up at him, he was still smirking around his beer bottle, entirely too pleased with himself.

You squinted at him, watching as he took another sip, posture loose and obnoxiously relaxed, like he wasn’t single-handedly ruining your life with his casual teasing.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you accused.

“Yeah,” he said easily. “I am.”

The audacity.

You exhaled sharply, picking up your juice again. “You know, you can laugh all you want, but this is actually good.” You took another sip, lifting your eyebrows in mock challenge.

Sidney snorted. “Yeah, it’s juice. Of course it’s good.”

You pointed a finger at him. “Exactly.”

“I just think it’s funny,” he said, like he wasn’t actively enjoying this. “You got so defensive about being an adult, and then you went and drank the juice.”

“Oh, my God.” You groaned. “I am an adult, okay? I just also happen to enjoy a refreshing glass of orange juice.”

“Uh-huh.” He looked entirely unconvinced.

You narrowed your eyes. “You know what? This is why your daughter is in her Taylor Swift phase.”

Sidney actually winced, like you had physically struck him, and it was so satisfying that you almost cheered.

“Oh, that’s low,” he said, shaking his head.

You grinned. “It’s the truth. Olivia is at the age where she’s realizing you’re old and lame.”

He sighed dramatically. “First the juice, and now this. You’re just determined to ruin my night, huh?”

You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “I would never.”

He laughed at that—really laughed, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and you felt that traitorous flutter in your chest again.

It was so unfair.

Because this was nice.

The teasing, the banter, the way he was actually joking with you instead of just treating you like the kids’ nanny. And maybe that was why your stupid crush decided to fully combust in that moment.

Because you weren’t even in the friend zone. You were in the daughter zone, and somehow that was infinitely worse, and yet here you were—still crushing, still falling harder just because he poured you some stupid juice and laughed at you.

It was pathetic.

And, honestly?

It was so predictable, daddy issues and all.

Sidney took the last sip of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the counter with a soft clink. He stretched his arms over his head, his t-shirt lifting just slightly at the hem, revealing a hint of toned stomach before he let them drop back down.

“All right,” he said, voice rough with exhaustion. “You should get some sleep.”

You braced yourself for the inevitable teasing, the inevitable kid comment—but it never came.

Instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you, the exhaustion in his face softening into something gentler. It wasn’t because you were young or because he thought you couldn’t handle staying up late—it was just late, and he cared enough to tell you to rest.

And somehow, that was worse.

Because it wasn’t patronizing.

It was just him being him—Sidney Crosby, good father, good man, genuinely good person.

And all you could do was nod.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat as you pushed away from the counter. “Yeah, I’ll, uh… I’ll head up.”

He gave you a small, tired smile. “Guest room’s all yours.”

You murmured a quiet “thanks” before grabbing your phone and heading toward the stairs, but you could still feel him watching you as you left the room.

That should’ve been the end of it.

You should’ve gone up to the guest room, crawled into bed, and fallen asleep immediately. Instead, you lay there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling like a complete idiot.

Because you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t even in a normal crush way—it wasn’t about his arms, or his voice, or how frustratingly handsome he was when he smirked.

No.

It was the fatherly stuff that got you.

The way he so easily checked out your car without hesitation, like it was second nature to take care of things for you. The way he poured you a damn juice because he thought beer wasn’t for you. The way he tucked Olivia in, the way he held Jack so effortlessly, the way he made them feel safe even when their world had been shaken apart.

He was a good dad. No, he was the best dad.

And his ex-wife?

She didn’t deserve him.

Not even a little bit.

You hadn’t even met her, but from the little Olivia had told you, she barely even tried. She had two amazing kids who would’ve done anything for her, who had wanted to see her, and she had just… not shown up.

Meanwhile, Sidney had stepped up and been everything.

Everything a father should be. Everything a partner should’ve been. And she had thrown him away. It made your stomach churn just thinking about it.

You turned onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow and groaning softly. Because, God, this was so predictable.

So cliché. Daddy issues and all, falling for the single dad who made you feel safe for the first time in years.

You wanted to cringe at yourself. But mostly? Mostly, you just wanted to sleep.

And with Sidney Crosby on your mind, that felt damn near impossible.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, you forgot where you were, the unfamiliar ceiling throwing you off, the bed too soft, the blankets too crisp. But then it all rushed back—the broken-down car, the teasing, the orange juice, the way Sidney had looked at you right before you’d gone upstairs.

You groaned into your pillow.

It was too early to be thinking about him like that.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you ran a hand through your hair and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. The time read 7:12 AM, which meant the kids were probably already up, and Sidney—being the actual superhuman that he was—was definitely awake.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before padding out of the room and heading downstairs.

The house was warm with the early-morning light, and you heard Jack’s little voice before you even made it to the kitchen.

“I want pancakes!”

You grinned to yourself.

“Yeah?” Sidney’s voice, still rough with sleep. “Well, I want to win another Cup, but we don’t always get what we want.”

You had to bite back a laugh.

“But, Dad—”

“Relax, buddy. I’m making them.”

Jack cheered, and when you stepped into the kitchen, you were greeted with the sight of Sidney at the stove, flipping pancakes like he did this every morning. Which, you guessed, he probably did. He was still in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair a little messy from sleep, a mug of coffee sitting on the counter next to him.

Olivia was at the table, flipping through a book, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else, and Jack was bouncing on his toes near the counter, waiting for his pancakes like his life depended on it.

Sidney glanced up, spotting you.

“Morning, kid.”

You glared. “Don’t start.”

He smirked, then nodded toward the coffee pot. “There’s fresh coffee.”

You muttered a quiet “thanks” before making a beeline for it, pouring yourself a mug and taking a sip like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“So, did you sleep okay?” Sidney asked, flipping another pancake.

You leaned against the counter, watching as Jack tried to sneak a chocolate chip from the bag Sidney had been using for the pancakes. “Yeah, thanks for letting me stay. Sorry for the whole, you know, car dying situation.”

Sidney shrugged. “Not your fault.”

“Still.”

Olivia looked up from her book, but then she squinted at you. “Wait. Did you sleep in the guest room?”

You frowned. “Uh… yeah?”

Olivia made a face. “Oh. You should’ve taken Dad’s bed.”

You choked on your coffee.

Sidney snorted. “Olivia.”

“What?” she said, looking genuinely confused. “It’s the comfortable one.”

Sidney shook his head, flipping the last pancake. “You guys eat up. I gotta go get ready for practice.”

Jack cheered again, immediately diving into his stack of pancakes, and Olivia, still unbothered, turned back to her book.

Sidney slid a plate across the counter toward you. “Eat.”

You sighed, but sat down, knowing better than to argue.

And as you watched him move around the kitchen—calm, collected, fatherly as ever—you felt that same ache in your chest from the night before.

Because this wasn’t your life.

But for some reason, you wished it was.

Sidney slid a plate of pancakes in front of you like it was nothing—like it was completely normal for him to just make breakfast and look after everyone while simultaneously being the most attractive and responsible man alive.

And then, because apparently he wasn’t done ruining you, he leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and—so casually it nearly short-circuited your brain—said, “So here’s the plan for today.”

You blinked. A plan?

Like, he had been thinking about this? About you?

Your stupid car? Your life?

You took a sip of coffee to cover how flustered you felt. “Oh?”

Sidney nodded, all business, like he had been mentally scheduling everything since last night. “I’m taking you to the mechanic after we drop the kids off.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he kept going. “I already know what’s wrong with it. It’s just the alternator.”

You blinked. “How—?”

Sidney shrugged. “Checked it out last night.”

You stared at him. Because—of course he had. Of course, while you had been spiraling about how he was the best dad ever, he had been outside, under the hood of your car, figuring out what was wrong like it was second nature.

He took another sip of his coffee, completely unbothered, while your entire soul left your body.

“And I’m coming with you,” he continued. “Because mechanics like to take advantage of girls.”

Your brain short-circuited again.

You narrowed your eyes. “I am not a girl.”

Sidney smirked. “Yeah? Tell that to the guy who tried to charge my sister two hundred bucks for an oil change last year.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“…Two hundred?”

Sidney gave you a knowing look.

You sighed.

“Fine,” you muttered.

But inside?

Inside, you were melting.

Because who even thought like that? Who went out of their way to protect people like that? To make sure you wouldn’t get scammed? To check out your car and figure out the problem so nobody could lie to you about it?

Your chest ached, and you hated yourself a little for it.

You were so weak.

And you scorned yourself for it.

Because this was exactly why you had promised yourself you’d never be like this. Never feel like this.

But, God, Sidney made it so difficult.

Maybe that was because, deep down, you had always wanted someone like this.

Someone who just took care of things.

Someone who thought ahead, who made plans, who didn’t wait for you to ask for help before stepping in and making sure you were okay.

You had never really had that before.

You had been the eldest daughter, raised by a single mother who had been doing her best but had never really had time to be the kind of parent who worried about things like broken cars and alternators and mechanics overcharging people.

No, that had been you.

You had been the one making sure your little brother had packed a lunch for school, the one who had learned how to fix things when they broke because there wasn’t anyone else to do it. You had been the one answering the door for debt collectors, the one figuring things out, the one making the grocery lists and making sure nothing slipped through the cracks.

And you had been good at it.

You still were.

But sometimes—sometimes you had wished there had been someone to help. Someone to just… think of things before you had to think of them. And maybe that was why Sidney made your chest ache the way he did.

Because you had never had that before, and now here he was—being exactly that person. Not just for his kids, but for you. And maybe he didn’t even realize he was doing it, but it didn’t matter.

Because it was so easy for him. And it made you feel safe in a way that made your stomach twist.

Because you had spent your whole life not needing anyone. And yet—somehow—Sidney Crosby was making you want to lean in.

Just a little.

The school drop-off was quick. Jack practically launched himself out of the car, already halfway to the front doors before Olivia had even finished unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Bye, Liv,” you said.

She turned to you, and—much to your utter shock—she gave you a small smile. “Bye.”

You almost froze in place.

But before you could fully process what had just happened, she was out of the car, disappearing into the school without a second glance.

You turned to Sidney, eyes wide. “Did you see that?”

He smirked. “Yeah. She likes you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. And you hated how much that meant to you.

Sidney pulled away from the curb, effortlessly maneuvering through morning traffic. “Alright, next stop—the mechanic.”

You sighed, slumping back against the seat. “Do you, like… do this for all your nannies?”

Sidney glanced at you, amused. “What?”

“Just—” You gestured vaguely. “Fix their cars? Make plans for them? Tell them they’re getting scammed before it even happens?”

He snorted. “Not really, no.”

You frowned. “Then why me?”

He shrugged, eyes on the road. “Dunno. You’re just… good with the kids. They like you.”

You swallowed. Because that meant something. It meant a lot.

And you weren’t sure what to do with that.

The moment Sidney pulled into the mechanic’s lot, you knew you were in good hands. Not because of the mechanic—no, he barely looked up from whatever he was doing.

It was Sidney.

He had that calm, composed, but don’t-mess-with-me energy that commanded a room without trying. He stepped out of the car with purpose, shutting the door with just the right amount of force. Not aggressive, but firm enough to say, I am not to be taken advantage of.

You followed, feeling like a little duckling trailing behind him like some kind of displaced housewife.

The mechanic—Joe, according to the nametag on his greasy coveralls—finally looked up, taking one glance at your car and letting out a low whistle. “What do we got here?”

Sidney didn’t even blink. “Alternator’s shot.”

Joe nodded, rubbing his hands on a rag. “Yeah? Let’s take a look.”

You rocked on your heels as Joe popped the hood, shining a flashlight over the engine. “Yep, that’ll do it. You’re looking at about… probably $1,100, give or take. Labor’s the killer, y’know how it is.”

You almost choked.

Sidney, however, remained unbothered. “That’s funny. ‘Cause I checked it last night, and it’s just the alternator. You and I both know that’s, what—two, maybe three hundred?”

Joe’s smile tightened. Sidney did not budge.

You watched, absolutely fascinated, as Sidney leaned against the counter, completely at ease, like he had all the time in the world. “So,” he continued, slow and deliberate, “you wanna try again? Or should I take my business somewhere else?”

Your jaw dropped.

Joe sighed, rubbing his temples. “Lemme—” He gestured vaguely toward the back. “Lemme check with my guys.”

Sidney nodded, all patient and controlled, but the minute Joe disappeared, you turned to him, shocked. “How—how did you do that?”

Sidney smirked. “Men don’t like getting called out for their bullshit.”

You blinked. “So, you just… intimidate people into lowering prices?”

He shrugged, like it was nothing. “It’s not intimidation. It’s just knowing when someone’s trying to screw you over.”

You stared at him. Because, damn.

You knew Sidney was good at hockey. That he was kind. That he was an amazing dad. But this? This was something else entirely.

This was a guy who stood up for people. This was a guy who protected people without them even having to ask.

And God, did it make your stomach flip.

When Joe came back, he was begrudgingly willing to do it for $150.

Which was insane. Which was basically magic.

You wanted to high-five Sidney or something, but before you could, Joe sighed, glancing between the two of you. “You guys wanna wait inside? Shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

You nodded, but then—Joe’s gaze softened, and he smiled. A knowing smile.

“You’re lucky your husband knows his stuff,” he said.

Your heart stopped. Sidney did not correct him.

You swore time froze for a second.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your brain trying so hard to form words, but all you could do was glance up at Sidney—who looked completely unbothered.

Like… he wasn’t rushing to fix it. Like he wasn’t that pressed about the misunderstanding. Like it wasn’t even worth correcting.

Joe didn’t wait for a response—he just gestured toward the small waiting area, already moving toward your car.

And you?

You were still standing there, trying not to let your brain explode. Because what the hell was that?

What the hell was Sidney Crosby not correcting that for? What did that mean? Were you reading too much into it? Or—

“C’mon,” Sidney said, oblivious to your inner crisis, nodding toward the waiting area.

And because you couldn’t exactly just stand there, you followed.

But your heart was still doing things. And you really, really wished it wouldn’t.

After settling your car situation (which still felt like a miracle thanks to Sidney’s intervention), you felt compelled to repay him somehow.

“Let me take you to lunch,” you said as he drove, eyes focused on the road. “As a thank-you. My treat.”

Sidney gave you a side glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Your treat?”

“Yes.” You crossed your arms. “I have a job, you know.”

“I know,” he said, smirking. “I just don’t think I’ve ever been taken out to lunch by my nanny before.”

Your stomach flipped, but you rolled your eyes to cover it up. “Well, there’s a first for everything. Do you have practice today?”

“Not till later.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Lunch it is.”

You ended up at a casual bar-slash-lunch spot, the kind of place that had burgers, wings, and good beer on tap. It was easy, relaxed—which was exactly what you needed after the whole morning of watching Sidney Crosby do battle with a mechanic.

The conversation was effortless.

Somewhere between ordering your drinks and the food arriving, you fell into a rhythm of casual banter—mostly about Olivia and Jack.

“Jack’s convinced he’s going to the Olympics,” you said, stirring your straw in your drink. “Like, now. At six years old.”

Sidney smirked, shaking his head. “Kid’s got big dreams.”

You snorted. “Yeah, but have you seen him skate? He’s like a baby giraffe out there.”

Sidney laughed, and it was so genuine, so real, that you felt it in your chest. “He’ll figure it out.”

You nodded. “Yeah. He’s persistent. I’ll give him that.”

Sidney took a sip of his drink, leaning back in the booth. “And Olivia?”

You hesitated, but the smile stayed on your face. “She’s… coming around.”

Sidney’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “She actually smiled at me today. And—don’t freak out—but I think she has like, a crush on a boy in her class now.”

Sidney groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God help me.”

You laughed. “Hey, at least she’s acting like a kid again.”

That seemed to strike a chord with him, because the laughter in his eyes faded just a little, replaced by something deeper. A comfortable silence settled over you both. The kind that didn’t feel awkward or forced—just… nice.

And then, quietly, Sidney said, “I really appreciate you, you know.”

Your heart stuttered.

He wasn’t looking at you. He was picking at the label on his beer bottle, like he was trying to find the right words.

“I mean it,” he continued. “What you do… what you’ve done for Olivia and Jack—it’s more than I could’ve asked for.”

You swallowed. “Sid…”

“She was really struggling,” he said, voice low but steady. “After the divorce. I mean, Jack was too, but Olivia…” He exhaled, finally looking up at you. “She’s always been the serious one. The one who takes everything in. And when the divorce happened, it was like… she stopped being a kid. She thought she had to be the responsible one. She thought she had to hold everything together.”

You nodded, because you understood that. More than you cared to admit.

Sidney shook his head, eyes flickering with something heavy. “I didn’t know how to help her. I tried. But…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, and your chest ached at the sight of it.

Because here he was—Sidney Crosby, the guy who had everything together, the guy who fought tooth and nail for his kids—and yet, in that moment, he looked so lost. Like he still didn’t know if he was doing it right.

You reached for your drink, just to have something to do with your hands. “You’re a good dad, Sidney.”

He let out a hollow laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

“You are,” you insisted. “You fought for them. You fight for them. And Olivia—she sees that. She might not always say it, but she does.”

Sidney studied you, something unreadable in his expression.

“You’re the first person to get her to act like a kid again,” he finally said. “That means more to me than you know.”

And just like that, your heart broke open.

Because you knew what it felt like to carry weight that wasn’t yours to carry. You knew what it felt like to be the one who had to be strong. And Olivia—God, Olivia—she had been right there, drowning in it, until you’d somehow managed to pull her back to the surface.

The server came by with your food, breaking the moment, and Sidney cleared his throat, straightening up.

But the words hung between you, unspoken but there. And you? You felt completely unraveled.

For a moment, you just sat there, stirring the ice in your drink, thinking about everything he’d said. About Olivia. About how much she’d been hurting.

You inhaled, slow and careful. “I get it, you know.”

Sidney looked up from his plate, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated, organizing your thoughts. “I get what Olivia’s feeling. I get why she tried to be the responsible one.” You picked at the napkin in your lap, voice quieter now. “Because I did the same thing.”

Sidney didn’t say anything, but he put his drink down. He was listening.

“My mom had me young,” you started. “She wasn’t even out of college yet. And my dad… well.” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “He wasn’t interested in the whole family thing.”

Sidney’s jaw tightened.

“He left when I was four,” you continued, eyes flickering up to his. “And I guess, in some ways, I don’t even remember what it was like when he was around. But I remember what it was like after. I remember how my mom had to work two jobs. How tired she always was. How—” You swallowed. “How I felt like I had to make up for him leaving.”

Sidney’s expression softened, his brows knitting together like he was piecing you together in real-time.

“I started helping out more. Taking care of things that weren’t really my responsibility. By the time my little brothers was born, I was basically their second parent.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, I was nine and I was making school lunches. I was helping with homework. I was doing all these things because I thought it would make things easier for my mom. I thought if I could just be good enough, she wouldn’t miss him. We wouldn’t miss him.”

Sidney’s hand flexed against the table.

“But the thing is…” You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “It never really worked. Because I was still just a kid. And sometimes kids need someone to tell them it’s okay to be a kid.”

Sidney exhaled, like something was clicking into place.

“That’s why I see so much of myself in Olivia,” you admitted, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger. “I know what it’s like to feel like you have to hold everything together. To feel like you have to be the adult when things fall apart.” You looked at Sidney then, your voice quieter, but steady. “And I think that’s why I care about her so much.”

Sidney’s brows drew together slightly, his beer resting untouched on the table between you. His eyes, deep and thoughtful, didn’t waver. He was listening—really listening.

You took a slow breath, letting the moment settle before continuing.

“The thing is, I know it’s not true,” you said. “I know she doesn’t have to be that way. That she’s just a kid, and she should be able to be a kid.” You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “But when you feel like everything around you is out of control, stepping up feels like the only option. Even if it’s not fair. Even if it’s not right.”

Sidney said nothing, but something shifted in his expression.

So you went on, voice careful, deliberate.

“I think… I think she’s starting to see that she doesn’t have to be the one holding everything together anymore.” You offered a small, knowing smile. “That she has someone who will do that for her. And that’s because of you, Sidney.”

His jaw tensed, but he still didn’t speak.

You could see it—the self-doubt, the way he carried the weight of the divorce like a failing on his part. He didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know he wondered, late at night, if he was enough. If he was doing enough.

And you couldn’t stand it.

“You’re a good dad,” you told him, voice firm.

His throat worked as he swallowed, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about that.”

“You should,” you said, unwavering. “You should know. Because you are.”

He scoffed under his breath, running a hand over his jaw. “You don’t see me at two in the morning, staring at the ceiling wondering if I’m screwing this all up.”

“Sid,” you said, gentler now. “You love them. You show up for them. You fight for them. Do you know how many kids don’t get that?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he stayed quiet.

You hesitated for only a second before you said, “I didn’t.”

Sidney’s gaze snapped back to you.

You kept your voice light—too light. “Dad used to call sometimes. When I was little. But it got less and less over the years. By the time I was Olivia’s age, I stopped expecting it. I stopped waiting.”

Sidney hadn’t touched his beer. Hadn’t moved an inch. His jaw was tight, his hands clasped loosely together on the table, but his expression was unreadable.

You cleared your throat. “That’s why I know Olivia’s lucky. Even if she doesn’t always feel like it right now. Even if it’s been hard, and things are messy, and divorce sucks—she’s got you. You’re there. You’re trying. And she knows it.”

Sidney exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, well. I wish that was enough.”

“But it is,” you insisted, leaning forward slightly. “That’s what I’m saying. You being there? That’s everything.”

Sidney’s gaze lifted to yours, and for the first time all night, there was something unguarded in his expression.

“I mean it,” you said, quieter now. “She doesn’t have to wonder if you’re going to come home. She doesn’t have to hold her breath every time the phone rings, hoping it’s you and being disappointed when it’s not. She doesn’t have to think she has to earn your love, Sid. She just has it.”

His jaw clenched.

“She’s lucky,” you finished. “Even if she doesn’t fully see it yet.”

For a long time, Sidney didn’t say anything. He just watched you.

And then, finally, he shook his head, voice low and steady.

“Your father,” he said, “is the lowest kind of man there is.”

Your breath caught.

“To walk away from his kids?” Sidney’s voice was rougher now, edged with something deep and unapologetic. “To leave you and your mom on your own? That’s… that’s not a man. That’s a coward.”

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t used to people saying it like that. You weren’t used to people saying anything at all about it, really. It had always been just one of those things—something people knew but never directly acknowledged.

But Sidney wasn’t mincing words.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he continued, voice quieter but still firm. “Neither of you did.”

Your hands felt a little shaky, so you pressed them together in your lap. And suddenly, it hit you.

This wasn’t just about your dad. This was about Sidney, too.

Because as much as you had lived your life wondering what you had done to make your father leave, Sidney was here—right here—terrified that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he gave, it might never be enough. That he might still lose his kids in some way.

So this time, when you spoke, your voice was softer. More sure.

“You’re nothing like him.”

Sidney looked at you.

“You’re a good dad,” you repeated. “You’re the kind of dad kids deserve.”

Something in his expression changed.

It was small, barely perceptible, but it was there—a flicker of something unspoken, something that settled between you like an understanding neither of you fully grasped yet.

And it wasn’t bad.

Not at all. But it was different.

Sidney exhaled deeply, finally leaning back against the booth. His hand scrubbed over his jaw like he was trying to find the right words, something you’d noticed he did whenever he was thinking hard about something. The air between you felt heavier now, weighted down by the conversation, by everything you’d laid out between each other.

Finally, he looked back at you.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice quieter now, but still sure. “Really. I—” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly, a humorless little chuckle leaving his lips. “I needed that.”

His fingers tapped against the glass of his beer, and then, suddenly, his expression twisted.

“Oh—shit, I mean—” He winced, shaking his head quickly. “Not, like—not that your story is a good thing or—Jesus.” He huffed out an exasperated breath, looking genuinely horrified at his own words. “I just meant—”

You laughed. Hard.

The immediate, sincere panic on his face only made it funnier.

“Sid, relax,” you grinned, covering your mouth as you shook your head. “I know what you meant.”

Sidney groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, well, that makes one of us.”

That only made you laugh harder.

He watched you for a moment, exhaling slowly, before finally shaking his head. “I’m gonna be honest. I don’t think I’ve embarrassed myself this much since the last time I fell in practice and took out, like, three guys on the way down.”

Your grin widened. “Wow. That bad, huh?”

“Oh, worse,” he said, pointing at you with his beer bottle before taking another sip. “Way worse.”

You shrugged, resting your chin on your palm. “I don’t know. I thought it was kinda endearing.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “You would.”

You shot him a smug look. “I do.”

He let out another soft chuckle, shaking his head. Then, after a moment, he looked back up at you, something more serious in his gaze.

“No, but really,” he said, voice lower, more steady this time. “Thank you.”

And that time, there was no fumbling. No awkward backtracking. Just genuine gratitude.

You felt your chest tighten slightly, the warmth of his words settling somewhere deep in your ribs.

Before you could find a way to respond, though, you realized something.

Sidney was still looking at you.

But not the same way he usually did.

His gaze was heavier now, slower, his expression just slightly more relaxed than it had been all night. His fingers absentmindedly traced the condensation on his beer bottle, and his eyes, dark and warm and a little unreadable, stayed locked on you in a way that sent a sudden rush of heat up your spine.

Oh.

You swallowed, your brain short-circuiting.

Because the way he was looking at you? You knew that look.

The lazy, half-lidded gaze, the way his lips were just slightly parted, how he lingered a beat longer than necessary on your face before his eyes flickered ever so briefly down, then back up—

Yeah. You knew that look.

And oh, you were in trouble.

Your stomach flipped, your skin going hot all over, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “Are you okay?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

Sidney blinked, like he was suddenly remembering himself. Then, he cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, this time with a little more certainty. Then, as if sensing the shift, he smirked. “Why? You worried about me?”

You scoffed, but your heartbeat was still too fast. “Not even a little.”

He hummed, taking another slow sip of his beer, and damn it, his eyes were still on you.

And it wasn’t like that.

It wasn’t obvious, or aggressive, or even something you thought he was aware of doing.

But it was… different.

And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining it this time.

Tags

sidney crosby sidney crosby x reader nhl fic

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huggybearswife

1 month ago

So baby girl

Luke Hughes | POST-RAW 3.31.25

Tags

cutie patootie luke hughes his smile made me feel so warm and happy he blesses me everyday lh 43

368 notes View Post

huggybearswife

6 months ago

Loveeeeee

Daddy’s Little Girl-Quinn hughes

Dad Quinn hughes x mom reader

Request masterlist

It was a crisp, sunny afternoon in Vancouver, and the Canucks had just wrapped up their morning practice. The rink was bustling with energy as the players packed up and prepared to head out for the day, but there was an extra buzz in the air. Today, Quinn Hughes was doing something he hadn’t done before—showing off his precious little girl to the team. The guys had all met Lilly over FaceTime, of course, but nothing compared to seeing her in person.

Lilly was only a few months old, and though she was small, she had already stolen everyone’s heart. Her big blue eyes, her little button nose, and the tiny smile that she had—every single person who had met her, even through a screen, couldn’t help but fall in love.

Quinn had been talking about this moment for weeks, always excited to show his teammates the joy his daughter brought him. The plan was simple: after practice, the team would gather at a local restaurant, and Quinn would bring Lilly and Y/N along. It was a chance for Y/N to relax, to talk to the other wives and girlfriends (WAGs), and for Quinn to proudly show off their little girl.

Quinn was beaming as he held Lilly in his arms when he and Y/N arrived. Lilly was snuggled in a soft, pink blanket, her tiny hand wrapped around Quinn’s finger. She was dressed in a cute little onesie with her name embroidered on it, and her wispy blonde hair framed her face in the most adorable way. Y/N, looking effortlessly gorgeous in a cozy sweater and jeans, smiled warmly as she walked beside Quinn. She was relieved to be out of the house, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation without the constant demands of being a new mom. She knew Quinn had been looking forward to this all week, and she was excited to see him in his element, proud and beaming as he introduced their daughter to his teammates.

As soon as they entered the restaurant, the guys spotted them right away. Elias Pettersson was the first to jump up, grinning ear-to-ear, with Brock Boeser and JT Miller right behind him. They had all seen pictures and FaceTime calls, but there was something about holding Lilly in his arms that made it even more special.

“Quinn, buddy, she’s even cuter in person!” Elias exclaimed, his voice full of excitement as he walked over.

Quinn smiled, adjusting Lilly in his arms as he stepped forward to let the guys take a closer look. "I know, right? She’s already stealing my heart every single day."

Lilly, still half-asleep from her nap in the car, blinked up at the group of guys surrounding her, looking slightly confused but undeniably adorable. Brock crouched down to her level, his eyes wide with wonder as he looked at the tiny little girl.

“She’s perfect,” Brock whispered in awe. “You’ve got to be the luckiest guy on the planet, Quinn.”

“I’m definitely the luckiest,” Quinn said, his voice full of pride as he looked down at his daughter, then back up at his teammates. “She’s my world.”

As the guys crowded around to take turns holding Lilly, Y/N took a step back, happy to see Quinn in his element. She’d never seen him so at ease, so proud to show off their daughter. It was clear that the guys had a soft spot for Lilly, too.

Y/N found a cozy spot in the corner of the restaurant where she could chat with the other wives and girlfriends, her heart swelling as she listened to Quinn’s soft chuckles and the boys’ lighthearted teasing. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this time, this chance to talk freely and without interruption, to hear the other women’s experiences with their own children and hear stories of the guys' lives outside the rink.

“Quinn’s really smitten, isn’t he?” Tessa, Elias’ girlfriend, remarked with a knowing smile as she sipped on her water.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "He’s obsessed. Every time he sees Lilly do something new, he acts like it's the biggest achievement. Like when she smiled for the first time—it was like he’d just scored the winning goal."

“I can’t blame him,” Tessa said. “Lilly is so adorable. I’ve never seen Quinn look so proud. It’s actually kind of cute how much he loves her.”

Y/N smiled fondly. “I know. I mean, I knew he’d be a great dad, but seeing him like this... it’s better than I could have imagined.”

The other women nodded in agreement, and as the conversation turned to lighter topics—like the upcoming holidays and their favorite family traditions—the guys continued to fawn over Lilly. Quinn was like a proud peacock, strutting around the room with her in his arms, showing her off like she was the most precious thing in the world. The guys teased him, of course, but it was all in good fun.

“You know, Quinn,” JT teased as he held Lilly, “I think you’re more proud of her than you are of your last game-winning goal.”

“Not possible,” Quinn responded quickly, shaking his head, but there was no hiding the pride in his voice. “This little girl is my whole life now. You guys should see her smile when she wakes up from a nap. She lights up the whole room.”

“I’m sure she does,” Brock laughed. “But I’m still not convinced she’s not just looking for more snacks.”

“She’s not quite there yet, Brock,” Quinn laughed, rolling his eyes. “But trust me, when she’s ready, she’ll be eating all your snacks.”

Lilly, sensing the good energy in the room, let out a small giggle, and everyone’s attention immediately snapped back to her. It was as if her little giggle could light up the entire room, and it certainly had that effect on everyone.

“See? She already has the boys wrapped around her finger,” Y/N said with a smile, watching as Quinn looked down at his daughter with an expression so full of love it made her heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t long before Quinn handed Lilly back to Y/N, who smiled warmly at her husband. She could see how much he loved their daughter, how every second spent with her made him glow.

“Are you having fun, babe?” Y/N asked softly as she kissed Lilly’s forehead.

“Best day ever,” Quinn responded, sitting down next to her. “It’s nice to be able to share this with the guys, and it’s nice that you’re getting to relax and talk with the other WAGs, too.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for both of them. “I am. It’s perfect, really. Just us, and our little girl.”

They shared a quiet moment, watching Lilly as she rested peacefully in her mother’s arms, surrounded by the love of Quinn, his teammates, and their little circle of family and friends. It was a moment to remember—full of laughter, joy, and the warm feeling of having everything they needed right here.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Quinn said after a while, standing up and offering his hand to Y/N. “We’ve got our little girl and a lifetime ahead of us.”

Y/N took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Home sounds perfect.”

And with that, the three of them—Quinn, Y/N, and Lilly—left the restaurant, ready to enjoy the quiet comfort of home, knowing that, no matter where the road took them, they had each other. And in that moment, there was no place else they'd rather be.

Send in request guys💕💕😽😽

---

Tags

hockey nhl quinn hughes qh43 nhl x reader quinn hughes x oc dad!quinn

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huggybearswife

9 months ago

wrapped 'round my finger !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

pairings: quinn hughes x best friend!reader, quinn x sunshine!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff, smut, fem!reader is described as smaller (shorter?), and swearing.

summary: you're the sweetest thing on planet earth, but you have terrible taste in guys. however, you've got the captain of the canucks wrapped around your pinky. too bad you don't see him that way...right?

trope: best friends to lovers, idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine, whipped boyfriend

word count: 1.3 k

notes: princess treatment is WHAT EVERY GIRL DESERVES!! also I just love quinn hughes :) happy reading!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bsf! quinn hughes who absolutely is wrapped around your finger. he loves you so freaking much and he's so in love with you it's all over his face. bo and millsy take turns making fun of him, while petey watches his lovelorn expression with a teasing grin.

bsf! quinn hughes who treats you like a princess: he's always giving you his jacket when you pout because you're cold, even though he already told you to bring a sweater. he's always opening doors, cans of soda before he hands it to you. he grumbles when you flutter your eyelashes at him, but flushes pink anyways and does what you want.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you lift a finger when you're together. he does everything for you, because you deserve to be taken care of.

bsf! quinn hughes who has to watch you date guy after guy, something sour and heated twisting in his chest because they can't treat you right like he does.

bsf! quinn hughes who finally confesses his love for you after you complain about a guy who left you at the restaurant to pick up a package during your date, because he's so fucking fed up with you being unhappy and the fact he can't kiss you like wants to.

bsf! quinn hughes who kisses you hard and rough as you whine into his mouth and clutch at his shirt while he grips your hips hard enough to leave a bruise.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you go, instead picking you up and (gently) tossing you on the bed. he crawls up to lick into your mouth one more time before going down on you.

bsf! quinn hughes who's totally a munch, but only for you. he keeps going even after you cum all over his face twice. you're grinding against his nose, as he murmurs "just one more". you're all teary and fucked out, but he pulls two more orgasms from you: one with his fingers and the other with you canting you hips on his thigh.

bsf! quinn hughes who groans and throws his head back when he finally pushes himself into your heat, after you tell him you're on the pill. you feel so much better than his hand during roadies where he moans your name to find release. you claw at his back, grabbing at his biceps as you call his name. he wants to swallow you whole.

bsf! quinn hughes who has dreamed of you on your back in his sheets, your manicured nails scraping his scalp as he ruts into you. the pleasure is almost unbearable, and he shudders all over. he has one forearm above your head to hold his weight, the other pressed on your belly where he can feel himself moving within you.

bsf! quinn hughes who marks up your neck as you whimper and mewl at the overstimulation, trying to wiggle away. he mouths at your pulse, relishing in the way it thumps loud and fast.

bsf! quinn hughes who grunts and almost comes when you lock your legs around his waist, whining for him to fuck you harder. he grabs your chin so you can watch as he lifts one of your knees over his shoulder, both of you rolling your eyes back at the new angle.

bsf! quinn hughes who is enraptured as you come on his cock, crying and pulling him close. he murmurs, "good job, baby. that's it. ride it out". you finally settle down as he rides out your high as long as possible.

bsf! quinn hughes who is still incredibly hard and pent up, but your hole is too sensitive. he's ready to take himself in his hand, except you flip yourself over onto your tummy, tucking your chin over you shoulder with your ass in the air, all tired bedroom eyes and mussed hair. he tells you you're perfect as he fulfills another of his wet dreams. he makes a mess of you, and presses his lips to your spine as he finally releases.

bsf! quinn hughes who holds you close in the shower, as you give slow, languid kisses to his chest.

bsf! quinn hughes who asks you shyly to be his as he cuddles you to sleep from behind. you tell him yes, flipping to shove your face into his neck, hiding your massive grin. he smiles: he finally got the girl.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bf! quinn hughes who is way more publicly affectionate with you than anyone has seen him be, especially after you guys finally get together.

bf! quinn hughes who becomes so clingy that even his brothers cringe at the way he becomes an absolute baby when you enter the room.

bf! quinn hughes who loves being cooed and fussed over. he loves when you feed him after a long game, eating straight from your fingers as he leans back on the headboard of your shared bed as you sit on his lap, pushing bites of food past his lips.

bf! quinn hughes who is so proudly a loverboy. he always has to have a hand on your back, an arm around your waist or shoulder. petey jokes that his eyes are practically magnetic to you.

bf! quinn hughes who's not that tall - especially since he's surrounded by other bigger hockey players - but you make him feel like the biggest man in the world. you always tuck your tiny hand into the crook of his elbow, clinging to his bicep as the two of you walk in public. he loves how you need to tiptoe and tug him down to kiss him, despite the neck pain.

bf! quinn hughes who loves to toss you around like a ragdoll, safely, of course. he loves to manhandle you: throwing you over his shoulder playfully and slapping your ass as you shriek, swatting his broad back. he picks you up like you weigh nothing to plop you down on the counter to hear you yap as he makes breakfast. you climb him like a tree when there's a spider in your en suite bathroom.

bf! quinn hughes who loves seeing you wear his clothes, because you look so cute drowning in his hoodies. his favourite thing to come back home to is you wrapped up in one of his jersey's - a warm flush pleasant over his skin because you're wearing his last name so proudly - and a home cooked meal after a hard game.

bf! quinn hughes loves to make you laugh, and will talk hours with you even though he has a hard time opening up to anyone else. he also loves listening to you talk, because you're just so kind and good to everyone, and it shows through the loving way you speak.

bf! quinn hughes who loves when you compliment him. a "good job, quinny. you played real good today", or a "thank you for dinner, baby" or even "please don't shave your playoff beard! you look so handsome" gets him all hot and bothered.

bf! quinn hughes who for sure has a captain kink. it's a heat of the moment thing for you, when he's got his face tucked into your neck as he grinds down into you, and you mewl his name along with his title. he stops, and you slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. he tugs it off, teeth scraping at your jaw as he tells you to say it again.

bf! quinn hughes who is bossy - in bed and out - and you love it. you love when he tells you to dress nice for a date to your favourite restaurant, who orders your food for you because he already knows what you want, who tells you to buy something pretty with his credit card because he can spoil you that way.

bf! quinn hughes who just loves you so much!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Tags

princess treatment quinn hughes qh43 quinn hughes x reader quinn hughes fluff nhl fluff

2K notes View Post

huggybearswife

8 months ago