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captain-huggy-bear · 5 months ago

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The Missing Puck

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Little hurt/comfort because Quinn isn't perfect, but he has good intentions and it's a fluffy end

Summary: It's the Hughes Bowl...and you're missing your usual warmup puck from Quinn. You think he's forgotten, he most definitely has not, but he didn't think this through. Fuck.

Notes: Sequel to The Collection

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Another home game for Vancouver meant another puck ready and waiting for you fresh from the ice. Or it should have.

You were waiting glass side for the teams to come out for warmups, today the Canucks would go face to face with the Devils and like always you are both excited for Quinn to get to see his entire family and sad that at least one of the Hughes brothers has to lose tonight's game. You expect to see Quinn make a beeline for you like he always does with a puck to throw over the glass for you. When it doesn't come and he skates past you with a smile to go warm up you just assume he'll pick one up for you nearer the end of warm ups, not too bothered at first by the missing puck that should have already been in your hands. Even fans around you gave you a look, so familiar with the ritual that was Quinn Hughes giving his girl a puck.

When the puck fails to come at the end of warm ups, when you watch him skate off the ice at the end of warmups without passing you your puck, the puck he's given you every single day since the very first game you attended, you try to justify it as he's distracted. The Hughes' Bowl, as people called it, was a high stress time for Quinn, the desire to win competing with the desire for his brothers' to win, mixed with concern that either of his brothers might get hurt by his own teammates. It was natural for him to be a bit distracted, for him to forget. It was just a puck.

You try not to let it ruin your night, to not distract you from the game, but you can't help it. You just feel...sad, forgotten. Quinn has never forgotten to get you a puck. In the 135 games that you've watched, he has never forgotten to get you a puck. Even when it's an away game you can't come to he's always come back with a puck from each, a thought about you that he's had written on each, sometimes arriving back to the apartment with 6 or 7 pucks in tow.

You try your best to watch the game, cheering when either the Canucks and Quinn score or Jack or Luke do, you can't really help but support your boyfriend's brothers, even if you want Quinn to ultimately win the game. Still, your cheers are definitely lack lustre and there's a heavy feeling in your chest that just won't disappear.

Even the Canucks' win doesn't make the feeling disappear and you berate yourself all the way to locker rooms about it. it's so silly to be worked up over a puck of all things, you've got over a hundred of them, what's one less? It's not like he forgot your birthday or left you at an event, forgetting to take you home. It's silly that you feel so upset about something so...so unimportant, or that's what you tell yourself anyway.

Deep down you know it's not silly to be upset about it. This was a ritual, a special thing that the two of you had been doing long before you were official. He'd never forgotten to give you a puck before and the idea that there would be a gap, a game missing from your collection? A day missing from the story you'd been cataloguing in bits of vulcanised rubber? It wasn't silly to feel forgotten. It wasn't silly to be happy for Quinn's win while deep down feeling like he'd let you down.

He actually hates it. Watching the way your face falls when he simply skates past you with a smile during warmups, he hates the way you stay right up at the glass the entire time, biting your lip, like he might remember in a minute...As if he ever even forgot.

It's hard for him to focus on the game, to be perfectly honest, for the first time in a while he can't keep from searching for you in the crowd. He can't help but hate the glimpses he gets, the way you cheer half-heartedly after his goal, the way your shoulders are slumped. He feels like an asshole and maybe he could have planned this whole thing better? Maybe he should have given you two pucks rather than waiting, waiting, waiting to give you the one...he just hopes that you forgive him for the torture he's put you through and forgive him for being a complete and utter idiot about it.

He really didn't consider that by planning to give you the puck after the game you'd feel forgotten, he didn't consider that he'd always given you a puck at the start of warmups, never at the end, never after and certainly not after an entire game. Yeah, he was an asshole and he thinks he'll be lucky if you give him the answer he wants tonight. It makes anxiety buzz so hard in his stomach that he feels sick for most of the 2nd and 3rd periods.

He doesn't waste time getting off the ice once the game is through and he doesn't even get out of most of his gear in the locker room, just his skates, gloves and bucket. He's rushing as he picks up the puck he scored with that night, but tries to calm his shaking hands when their rookie, Sasson, passes him a metallic gold pen to write across the puck's surface. There's both a deep need to be quick, to find you as soon as possible, and a deep need to do this correctly, to take his time. Not write a scrawling mess across it that you won't even be able to read.

He almost walks out the locker room without the final piece to the whole thing, but it's Kiefer that tosses him the little black box from his things before he embarrasses himself even more than he already has that night. He barely hears the good lucks from the rest of the guys, so focused on what he needs to do and trying to salvage this whole situation.

You look so small in the hallway outside, arms crossed over your chest as if you're trying to protect yourself from the world, eyes downcast to the ground. You feel small, a heavy weight of disappointment on your shoulders that doesn't ease much when you hear footsteps across the carpet and look up to see Quinn rushing towards you.

He's still in most of his gear, hair tousled and messy, moistened from sweat. His cheeks are flushed red and he's practically stumbling over his words the moment you're in ear shot, rushing towards you like a runaway train.

"I'm so sorry, this is not how this was supposed to go and I completely didn't think about how you'd feel an-" He's talking so fast that you're simply filling in the blanks, of course he's apologising for forgetting the puck and the one in his hand is clearly one from after the game. It shouldn't disappoint you more, it should make you feel better, that he's remembered now, even if later on in the day.

"It's okay, Quinn...it's just a puck..." You try to reassuring him, but he's shaking his head. Quinn's eyes go wide at the realisation that you think he forgot when he most certainly did not and he is not having you think he forgot when this was all part of the plan, a fucking stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless.

"That's not...I didn't forget the puck, I promise, I didn't forget the puck, baby." He sounds so absolutely desperate, so horrified that you believe him. Even, if it confuses you even more.

"But...but you always give me the puck at the start of warm ups?"

"I know...I...I thought if I did this after the game it would be better and I could have it all prepared, but I didn't really think about the fact you'd be expecting it at warms ups and I'm fucking inconsiderate asshole..." Half of what he has to say is a rambling mess that you can't really comprehend, so you latch onto the last thing he says that rockets your anxiety through the roof because giving you a puck later in the day is certainly not something which makes him an asshole even if it set your anxiety off and made you sad.

"Quinn, you're not an asshole, it's okay!"

"No, not it's not! Because...because I've messed this up so bad and if you don't want to say yes I completely get it..." Quinn almost looks ready to cry and he feels like it, in his head he's catastrophising. You're going to say no because he was too big of an idiot to think about the routine he'd made with you, the expectation you would have, the anxiety he would be putting you through for 3 hours.

You stop for a minute, processing his words as he stares at you horrified, scared, worried, all of the above and every synonym for them under the sun. The silence is so dreadfully loud and broken by the softest whisper of your voice, "Say yes?"

Quinn's scared, certain he's going to have a heart attack in that moment but still he forces his hands to move, toss the puck in his hands lightly to you and watch as you twist it right side up.

He has to stop himself from rambling further as he gets down on one knee in front of you, shaking hands opening up the little black box Kiefer had given him. The ring inside is perfect for you, the right gem, the perfect colour, the correct metal and shape. The epitome of someone knowing exactly what you'd find most desirable in a ring, but you're not looking at it, your eyes are fixed on the puck in your hands.

It's the usual beat up puck, although not a warmup puck this time but an official game puck, a goal scoring puck. Across the surface in gold lettering Quinn's handwriting stands out. The date is scrawled across the surface and underneath? Oh, underneath might be the most beautiful sentence you've ever read in your life and you can't help but feel tears well up in your eyes as you read them.

'Will you marry me?'

It all makes sense now. His rambling on about you not saying yes, his insistence that he'd messed up. He's scared, you can understand it now. That this absolutely amazing, wonderful man, thinks that something as simple as not giving a puck to you earlier is going to make you say no. When in reality very few things could ever stop you from saying yes, saying yes felt as natural as breathing.

"Give me a pen..." Your voice is wobbly and quiet as you request a pen, puck shaking in your hands as you look up at him and he's certain you're going to say no to him, so certain he takes a moment to process what you've asked for. Blinking at you blankly.

"Pen?"

"Give me a pen, Quinn." You reiterate until he seems to process your words and then he is scrambling, fumbling around as if he even has pockets in his gear which he doesn't. He almost drops the ring in the process and it is so utterly endearing to see how absolutely he wants to make this right and please you, as endearing as it is heart wrenching that he seems to think you'd ever say no.

He stumbles around, forgetting he's left the pen in the locker room, cursing this whole mess until Jack is leaning over his shoulder dangling it between two fingers with a soft smile. Luke just stood off to the side behind him. He supposes it would be par for the course for his brothers to be present for his imminent rejection and humiliation. Better them than anyone else.

He passes you the pen with shaking hands and can't take his eyes off you as you write something underneath his own words.

When you toss it back to him he's so certain that he's going to see a big no underneath that it takes him a minute of staring to actually comprehend what he's seeing, the puck shaking in his hands. Your handwriting lays so neatly underneath his, but its the unfathomable word that hits him with warmth and a bright spark of happiness straight to the chest.

'Yes -`♡´-'

Quinn's eyes pan up to you slowly, wide and bright as his lips part in shock. Glancing back down and up again as if he has to read the word a few more times to just make sure.

"Of course I'll marry you, you absolute idiot...why would I not?" You're smiling at him through the tears that slip down your cheeks, happy tears this time, not the disappointed ones you had supressed earlier in the evening. These tears are a combination of every feeling of affection and love you have for Quinn and the hopes you have too.

"Be..because I...I mess it all up..." He looks so utterly startled, so taken off guard and it hurts that he can't understand why one mistake wasn't really the end of it all. He's overthought the whole thing, just like you did. Two peas in a proverbial stressed out pod.

"Quinn," You close the remaining distance between the two of you, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks softly. Palms pressing against scratchy stubble as he looks down at you so softly, "I love you...messing up a little bit isn't going to change that, not when your intentions were so so sweet, baby..."

"So...you'll marry me?"

"I'll marry you." You confirm, grinning up at him as his mind works so hard behind green eyes. Little by little the doubt, confusion, starts to fade away to joy, to love, the way it should be after a proposal.

"You're going to marry me." You nod your head in confirmation, thumbs brushing across his cheeks in soothing circles, "We're getting married."

"Just put the ring on her, you idiot!" Luke calls from behind Quinn's shoulder and your gaze shifts to see the younger man grinning at the two of you, hands in his pockets and shaking his head. Jack is grinning equally as hard, the two brothers watching their older brother lose that calm, capable edge he always seems have. Both knowing they're never going to let him live this down. Ever.

"Shit!" He fumbles for the box, passing you the puck as his hands shake as he takes your left hand in his and slips the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly and it's beautiful, truly, what you imagined your engagement ring would one day look like.

He can't really comprehend it, that it's the ring he's given you on your finger, that he hasn't completely fucked this up. That you're going to be his wife.

It's you that pulls him close, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It's so soft and sweet that he isn't really sure what to do with himself for a moment and just stares down into your eyes.

"I love you, Quinn Hughes." You mumble against his lips, you're still grasping the puck in your right hand, even now. If anything your grip on the physical memory of this moment has grown tighter, scared it might fly away if you don't grasp it tightly.

"I love you too...thanks for saying yes." He sounds a little dumb, endearingly dumb.

"Quinn!" You lean back with a laugh, but don't get vary far before Quinn's arms are wrapping tight around your waist and pulling you back into his body. The closeness is appreciated not just because of the giddy high you're riding but because of how much distance there had been in the confusion of the day and Quinn's proposal.

"Am I not supposed to say that?" He grins down at you for the first time that night and it's the first moment where it feels real. He just asked you to marry him and you said yes. You're going to be Mrs Hughes.

"You generally don't thank your fiancé for agreeing to marry you, no. But you're welcome." You smile into the kiss he presses to your lips, losing yourself in the scratch of his stubble across your cheeks and the soft but firm press of his lips against yours. You let yourself just enjoy the feel of Quinn's hands gripping your hips and forget for a moment that you're in a corridor, a public space with your fiancé's brothers stood nearby.

"So drinks?" You're pulled away from the moment by the sound of Jack's voice chipping in. You pull back from the kiss, forehead pressing into Quinn's chest with a groan as he snaps at his brother lightly.

"Jack!"

"What we've got to celebrate right? Quinny can go get all cleaned up and then we'll go to a bar and celebrate this one becoming our new sister!" When you look up Jack and Luke have matching grins on their faces, cheeks pulled so high you're certain their faces must be hurting. Jack's grin is the more mischievous of the two, no doubting wondering how drunk he can get Quinn tonight, no doubt planning on using the special occasion to get Quinn to break from his health kick this season.

"Ugh, I forgot I'd be getting you two in this deal...can I change my mind?" You pretend to be put out, pouting at the two boys who you'll end up calling your brothers in short order.

You and Quinn turn to face them, Quinn tucking you under his arm and close to his side. He smiles down at you with what can only be called loving stubbornness.

"Not on my life, baby, you're stuck with me and stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, sorry!"

"Hey!" "We're great!" The two protest and in that moment it all feels like the first day of the rest of your life. The man you love giving you his name in the sweetest and most chaotic way possible. The two men in front of you becoming your brothers in name not just actions. The moment when it is cemented firmly that you're not going anywhere and neither is Quinn. That you're stuck with each other.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

When you get back to the apartment that night, after a few drinks, Quinn avoiding being drawn into unruly behaviour by Jack, Quinn watches from the bed as you pull the familiar and now incredibly full box of hockey pucks out of the closet and place the new entry right on top. He smiles as you pat it gently before putting the box back away where you'll reach for it when he's away on his next roadie.

Watching you in that moment Quinn thinks he's the luckiest guy in the world to get the girl who still said yes even as he stumbled through a proposal that should have been perfect, but was far from it.

A girl that forgave him for a missing puck.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #may this bring you joy after that devils game we all just watched

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puckinghischier · 6 months ago

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Hiiii happy new year! I absolutely adore your quinnxreader fics! I loved the one about his brothers asking her questions and calling her all the time because they love her so much! Would you consider writing more about that?

Maybe about their dynamic in person, meeting over Christmas or summer or something!??

Have a great day!

oh listen when the four of you are together for long periods of time? you’re convinced you and quinn will never have to have kids, because you’re gonna be parenting jack and luke for the rest of your lives.

like meeting at the lake house over the summer. even if ellen and jim are there with everyone, luke and jack still bug you with any and every question they have.

“y/n! what should i eat for lunch?”

“y/n! where’s the remote?”

“y/n! have you seen my swimming trunks?”

every time you take a breath, one of them is yelling for you for help, or advice, or nothing at all. jack is a regular at shouting your name from wherever he is in the house just to show you some video on his phone, or ask you how to spell a word for a text he’s sending.

quinn and ellen have both scolded them numerous times to leave you alone and quit treating you like a maid, but you don’t tell them you secretly love it. you hate that they’re acting like toddlers that can’t fend for themselves, but you love the comfort level they have with you to do it all.

and it’s not like they don’t return the favor.

you always manage to get a summer cold when you come to the lake house. you don’t know if it’s the water mixed with the chilly nights or the fact you’re always on the go and never resting, but you somehow always get a case of the sniffles for a few days each summer.

whenever it happens, jack and luke dote on you like you’re bedridden. constantly bringing you snacks and meds and juice. asking if you need anything, watching movies with you and quinn while all four of you cuddle on the couch.

ellen never fails to snap a picture of the occasion, all of her kids (you included) safe and sound under one roof, a rare occurrence in her world.

now, you have your own moments visiting the two youngest brothers, missing them just as badly as they miss you sometimes. when quinn is away on a particularly long road trip and jack and luke have a few home games, you’re booking a flight and off to see them.

you can always see how excited they are to have you at their games, making sure you have the best seats and even buying you a custom split hughes sweater, so you never have to choose one over the other.

they tell all of their teammates you’re coming and gesture to you throughout the whole game, making sure you saw that save, or watched them score a goal.

you go out with them after games and send quinn lots of pictures of his drunk, idiot brothers singing karaoke and displaying terrible dance moves.

quinn loves seeing you have the friendship with his brothers that you do, but he always reminds them to keep you safe, his protective side coming out, even though he knows they would never let anything happen.

still, it doesn’t keep them from finding sunglasses from god knows where, drunkenly waltzing you out of bar on either side of you, gesturing for people to move out of the way like they’re your bodyguards. every move you make, they’re sending (blurry) pictures of you safely outside the bar, getting into the uber, getting out of the uber, walking into their apartment building, in the elevator, unlocking their door, walking through their door, walking to the guest room, and one final shot of you in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin, to the groupchat you’re in with them and your boyfriend.

and once the apartment is quiet and their voices are reduced to light snores, you sneak into their rooms and take pictures of them, too, feeling just as much of a responsibility to keep them safe and cared for.

christmases? now those are an event, truly.

luke and jack are on you for months to help them pick out the perfect gift for quinn and ellen, claiming you know gifts way better than they do. you even fly out to jersey for a couple days in the middle of december, finding a stretch where they have a couple home games.

you take them out shopping, coaching and making sure they don’t pick out some random scarf for their mom or striped tie for quinn and jim. they take you to do all the touristy christmas things around the city (even if you’ve done it a million times before) and make fun of how you still can’t skate, even after all the years of being with quinn.

when you all finally make it back to michigan for the big family christmas, quinn steals you away for some one on one time, of course, but it’s never long lived. one of the two man-children, as quinn so affectionately calls them, comes barging in your room eventually, flopping down onto the bed right in-between you and quinn. and once one is in there, the other gets jealous and fights his way into the dog pile happening.

“can you two go annoy mom and dad or something? you just had her for four days, it’s my turn,” quinn huffs, your quiet bubble now burst.

“well, mom and dad told us to come annoy you guys, they have to wrap presents,” luke pouts to quinn, causing him to roll his eyes and accept his fate.

christmas morning with them is always your favorite, though.

jack and luke are always so high energy, wanting everyone to open their presents from them first so they can see the reactions.

they’re just like little kids, almost blurting out what it is as the person is opening it. they always tell ellen and quinn and jim you helped them, not wanting to take all the credit for themselves. but when it comes to their gifts to you? you start to think their claims that they’re terrible at gift giving is just a rouse to get you to visit them each year, because they never fail to give you the most heartfelt gifts.

like this christmas, they had gone in together on paying an artist to paint a collage of your favorite pictures of you and quinn together, the canvasses each in the shape of yours and quinn’s initials. you had noticed the canvas shaped like a plus sign in-between the two letters is blank, not knowing why they would leave such a large section bare.

when you look up to ask them, you notice they’re standing on either side of you, gesturing you to stand up. quinn is nowhere to be found, looking around for him as you stand and follow their lead to the back door of the large house.

when they open the door you’re met with the michigan snow, falling perfectly onto a beautifully decorated archway that you hadn’t noticed the night before. you noticed the poinsettias forming a walkway to the arch, finding quinn standing there under the perfectly hung mistletoe, waiting for you.

jack and luke walk push you on, staying behind in the warmth of the house.

you walk down the snow covered path, focusing on not falling the whole way.

once you reach the end of the path, quinn grabs your hand and plants you right in front of him.

he launches into a speech about how much he loves you, and how much he loves watching you with his family, how easily you’ve become a part of it, intertwined so deeply into his soul he couldn’t let you go, even if he wanted to, before dropping down on one knee, asking you to spend the rest of your life trusting him and loving him.

you immediately tell him yes, launching your body to his once he stands, tears streaming down your frozen face. right as you go to share a kiss to seal the intimate moment, you’re broken apart by the woops and hollers of none other than jack and luke, turning your head to see them barreling down the walkway towards you two.

“oh my god! we’re getting a sister! she’s actually gonna be ours now!” jack screams, crushing you two in a bear hug that would give quinn a run for his money.

“now quinn can’t use the excuse she’s his anymore, because now she’s ours. she’s gonna be a hughes! no more stingy quinn!” luke follows up, another weight added onto the already crushing hug.

“oh god, i didn’t think this through,” quinn groans, not enjoying his brothers’ newfound claim on you.

you giggle, encased in all the hughes love.

“also, we helped plan this, don’t let him hog all the credit, here. we planned our gift so it’d be the perfect segway into the proposal!” luke rushes out, too excited to keep it in any longer.

“the blank canvas is for engagement pictures!” jack confirms, beaming from ear to ear.

they finally release you and quinn from their clutches.

“okay, you guys have had your moment, now go back inside. she might getting ready to be your sister-in-law,” quinn emphasizes the last two words, “but she’s my fiancé, so we’ve earned some alone time.”

the two brothers huff and pout as they walk off, grumbling about how they can’t wait until you’re a hughes so he can’t claim you’re just his.

before you allow yourself the time with quinn, you run after your two best friends, tackling them in their own bear hug, despite how much larger they are than you.

“thank you guys. for this, for accepting me into your family, for sharing quinn with me,” you giggle at their scoff and luke’s mumble of ‘more like we share you with him’ before continuing. “i love you two. i’ll always be your big sister, yeah? as long as you’re always my two obnoxious little brothers.”

they squeeze you back so tightly you can’t breathe, telling you again how much they can’t wait for you to officially be part of their family.

quinn watches you with them, his own heart warmed despite the snow falling, wondering how in the world he got so lucky with such an amazing family, and now an even more amazing woman to bring into it.

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