#quinnhughes

[gisellaswrld]

random text hc’s pt.2

hughes brothers | random texts with their lovers

jack hughes —

luke hughes —

quinn hughes —

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — (soft)dark!QUINN HUGHES x gray!reader word count — 4k

note — i am so sorry for this (not really)

recommended viewing — sorority row (2009)

bingo squares and additional content warnings under the cut.

bingo squares —orgasm control, non-consensual voyeurism (+ pictures taken) and implied past mutual masturbation (dubcon — you’ll see) additional content warnings — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here!

QUINN HUGHES WAS ENAMORED the moment he saw you.

Three rows from the front. Laptop cracked, but more for show than anything. All your glittery, coveted attention fixed on the cellphone resting in your palm while you tapped away, your lips loosely draped over the pen you were gnawing on. 

You were positively mesmerizing.

He briefly contemplated sliding into one of the open seats beside yours, but a gaggle of your insipid "sisters" beat him to the punch.

As if he would’ve been able to capitalize on the golden opportunity anyway; it took half the semester for him to form a full, coherent sentence in your vicinity.

Ironically, Quinn was far more comfortable when you weren’t looking.

Or, rather, Quinn was more comfortable when you didn’t know he was looking.

He didn’t interact much with anyone outside of his coding cohort and the club team—athletic prowess only garners state-school clout when your sport is top dog, and this was a football school, through and through. As such, and at the hands of his tragic awkwardness, he rarely spoke to women, if ever.

And he never got face time with any as effortlessly beautiful and interesting as you.

Discovering that your large bedroom window faced the secluded side street he took to get home from practice each night felt like a sign. He’d struck gold, and it would be a shame not to put the knowledge to good use.

In his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted; he could be the guy who got the girl.

It was exhilarating, really. 

Quinn supposed some of that rush should be attributed to the feeling of unbridled control his daily routine sorely and consistently lacked. He hardly, if ever, felt like an active participant in his own life.

But in the privacy of his own head—and the safety of the very curb he’s stood on now—there were no alpha douche-canoes to eat up your finite attention or loud airheads to crave your tutelage. 

Between sundown and sun-up, you were his and his alone.

— Even if you were none the wiser.

As benevolent as you may appear, he knew you would never give a guy like him the time of day. Quinn was a lot of things, but stupid's never been one of them.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence if it weren’t for your shared smaller sessions on Thursday mornings. Just you and him… and ten other students, with the occasional appearance of your slacker TA—how romantic.

And if he couldn’t even get a moment alone with you, he definitely wouldn’t get a night inside of you, either. 

So, he settles.

Quinn puts up with the bugs and tolerates the bushes, swallowing his pride (and his mortification), and takes what he can get.

He's accustomed to maneuvering in the dark—this stretch of pavement in particular—but he stumbles through the dimly lit street like he’s got two left feet that only grew in yesterday. 

If you were privy to his impromptu audition for Bambi, you don’t mention it.

And if you clocked the obnoxious bulge tenting his jeans, you don’t acknowledge that, either.

Quinn isn’t entirely sure this is happening in his real, waking life; it’s far too good to be true. 

This is not at all where he thought the night would go when your name flashed across the screen.

When he hesitantly clicked ‘accept’ and brought the phone to his ear, all while still palming himself to the memory of your head tossed back in ecstasy—the way it was before the lights went out abruptly —Quinn assumed he’d soon be gripping steel bars.

“H-How’d you get this number?” he asked after hearing his name.

You whispered it so ardently he could almost feel your breath on his cheek. It made him shiver and, momentarily, forget he’d likely been caught red-handed—literally.

“You made the group chat for our section, silly.”

Instinct compelled Quinn to chastise himself, but knowing you remembered that minute detail—a nothing of a fact, really—was enough to override the urge entirely.

And the complete lack of ire in your voice lured him into a false sense of security yet to be disproven.

He gulped and willed his hand to stop moving. “Oh, right. Uh, is there something you need? Did the outline for next week not go through? Because if not, I can just re-send it ri—”

“Meet me at the same door as last time,” you sliced through his rambling with a tone that was neither foreboding nor comforting.

Then, the line went dead.

For once, Quinn was grateful to be so eager to please. If not for that zeal, he couldn't have walked up to the service door of Delta Nu.

Risking the wrath of your underlings was never a goal of his, but considering how quickly they turned up their plastic noses at him when he came by to drop off notes from the class you missed, Quinn couldn’t imagine worse circumstances for Round Two. 

When the backdoor swung in, you spoiled him in all your glory and the assurance of an empty house.

Out of pure exhaustion—and in his excitement to resume his ritual after a long week away—it slipped his mind; tonight is the best and biggest Kappa Tau rager.

Hence the ghost town

“Do you stand out there all night, stalker?”

Quinn’s head bobbed despite the apt insult. Then, he remembered you couldn’t see his reply, given that you were leading him up a staircase.

“M-Most nights, yeah.”

At that, you spun on your heel. Quinn shook like a leaf as you stepped forward. Gripping the railing, a hand on either side of his shrunken form, you invaded his personal space for the sole purpose of degrading him further.

The sneer hadn’t reached your eyes, but it speared him just the same. “God, you’re fucking pathetic.”

Quinn launched into an attempt at groveling, but his own verbal clumsiness rendered the effort futile.

However, his sputtered half-thoughts and litany of sentences that went nowhere were brought to a screeching halt by a single, manicured finger. Unable to process the touch and the wicked grin on your otherwise cherubic face concurrently, he froze.

His predicament worsened when you gently breached the tight seam of his lips to rest your interruption against his tongue.

You stepped closer; he saw stars. “I like that.”

It was at that moment Quinn realized you came straight down to the side-yard...because he could taste you. As you massaged his tongue with the pad of your finger, effectively rubbing your essence into his body, it took every ounce of strength to keep himself from busting right there in your foyer.

Still, he managed the mortification he sought to avoid.

“Are you… Are you humping me?” you barked with an incredulous snort.

Humiliation blurred his vision as you backed away from him; it wasn’t his fault your perfume elicited a Pavlovian bodily reaction. 

You kept your finger in his mouth as you bit back genuine laughter, but that just made him harder.

“Y’know,” you hummed, contemplative. You paused to watch your pointer finger slowly thrust in and out of his needy mouth. Your smirk was noticeably wider when you spoke again. “My last boyfriend couldn’t even text me back—or remember that he was in a monogamous relationship.”

Quinn blinked. “Your last boyfriend?”

The question was garbled by your finger—and his own sucking. It didn’t matter, though. His reply wasn’t necessary.

At least, not yet.

“Mhmm, my last one.”

You repeated yourself as if you were speaking to a child and not to the grown man whose boner was digging into your skin. 

It made him whimper. Your condescension was his kryptonite, apparently.

“But...I know my next one will be different; you’re too devoted to hurt me.”

He wasn’t given time to respond because as soon as you got your desired reaction—mewling akin to a bleating lamb and the whites of his eyes—you were dragging him up the remaining stairs and into the president’s suite.

Quinn’s spent countless hours wondering what your bedroom looked like, and even more fantasizing about what might happen if he ever saw it firsthand. His mouth splits after working up the nerve to compare the reality of your space to his mental notes, but before he can shove out any words, you’re backing him across the room with a devious glint in your eyes.

“W-What are you doing?” he asks when his back hits glass.

Right now, he’s pressed against his standing window into your most private moments. It feels wrong to be on this side of the wall.

Quinn gets none of the bubbly warmth he assumed he would if he ever found himself here. Instead, he feels unbelievably small as he drowns in a sea of poor choices.

“I think a little exhibitionism would be good for you, Hughes.”

"I-I don’t understand…”

You smile. His stupid heart flutters.

God, love’s fucking embarrassing.

Again, you crowd his space. This time, though, until there’s barely enough room between the window pane and your body for his wilted one. You press a single, fleeting kiss to his pulse point, your breath fanning over his clammy skin. His hitches in his throat.

“I want you to see things from my point of view.”

The words seep into his neck. Your intentions slam into him like a semi-truck going full speed. Anyone walking on the path—his path— would need only to venture a peek at your window to know exactly what was happening.

It would be too easy to watch him the way he’s watched you for weeks. 

A taste of his own medicine.

The candy-coated threat shouldn’t have the effect that it does. Given how emotionally charged the air’s become—for him, at least—it makes sense for his body to get some wires crossed; the same sticky emotion causing him to wither in fear should not be making him harder than ever.

He isn’t expecting you to kiss him, so it takes Quinn’s mind a beat to catch up. Still, he melts into the affection like it's the only thing keeping him alive. Though, as soon as Quinn regains enough composure to actually participate, you kill the kiss as swiftly as you brought it to fruition.

He chases after your mouth, much to your amusement.

“What, sad there was no tongue?” you tease as if you weren't the one to ruined the moment. 

Quinn doesn’t find you very funny right now.

“We’re going to play a little game.” 

Your lips brush his as your hushed words march out, but he remains still. He knows better now than to ask questions prematurely. You hum in acknowledgment, satisfied. 

Quinn beams. He's always been a quick study.

You take him by the wrist and guide him into the space you just vacated.

Physically, he knows he’s stronger. It wouldn’t take much to overpower you, but that means nothing in the face of your mental sway. Quinn can’t move because you don’t want him to—because you haven’t told him he can.

And any hope of gaining the upper hand crashes out onto the concrete the moment your bare knees hit the carpet.

Quinn knows he’s a dead man when your hands coast up his thighs.

“Put your hands on the window sill.” He does without hesitation. “Keep them there. You move, I stop. Understand?”

“Yes, I-I understand.”

“Good boy,” you say.

It’s more of a taunt than true praise, but his bulge twitches all the same before your eyes. The slight betrayal announces the internal chaos in the wake of the unexpected praise.

Quinn knew he liked that, but he didn’t want you to know it, too. What little control he managed to horde dissipates.

The delight on your face confirms the worst; you plan to do with that information what he hoped you wouldn’t. “God, I am going to have so much fun with you.”

It's an uphill battle, trying to keep his eyes open and his hands where they are supposed to be.

Quinn tastes nirvana when you finally flick the tip of your tongue over his cherry-red tip, the skin having adopted a luminous intensity courtesy of the few street lamps nearby. Glowing, after too much teasing.

Normally, he veered toward edging and denial JOI content, especially if the voice actor sounded anything like you. Tonight, he’s never hated a concept more. Still, he's making sure he behaves because he knows you’ll reward him handsomely.

You can be sweet when you want to be.

Like right now, for instance. You’re snuggling your face into his body, generously nuzzling his painfully stiff length with your cheeks. Whenever the friction mounts to anything substantial, you pull back to decorate his hips and inner thighs with little pecks.

They're reminiscent of the chaste parting kisses you’ve given his cheek in the past just to make him squirm.

You lap up what you can of the escaping arousal, hungrily drinking down all he has to offer. You do your best, you really do, but there’s just too much. The successor to each puddle arrives faster than you expect, and quicker than you can keep up with.

So, you stop trying.

You’re both so desperate, anyway.

Quinn bites back a scream when your dominant hand loops around the base of his cock; the cruel, beautiful beast only settling once the middle finger finally reaches the accompanying thumb. The pressure is light, but encompassing enough to make him dizzy.

So dizzy, in fact, that he actually appreciates your one rule.

However, nothing could have prepared him for what torture you enact next.

Blinking up at him, you rub the leaking tip over and between your lips. With one hand braced against his bare thigh and the other unchanged, you gently tug downward as you suckle the bulbous head.

The sensation is unlike anything Quinn has felt in his limited experience, which he wears like a scarlet letter. The little huffs that make him feel like a dog panting in mid-July remind him that while he's gotten a blowjob or two before, they were nothing like this one. They weren't from you. It might be unfair to lump those instances in with the magic of your mouth.

You can’t compete where you don’t compare.

So, Quinn showers you in soft, airy whispers. Even when you pull back until only the ridge preceding the tip rests past your spit-stained lips, he goes on and on about how good your mouth feels and how much he adores you. 

And, if he were slightly more coherent, maybe he would’ve caught the obvious squeeze of your thighs at his flushed cheeks and the reciprocal effect your lazy teasing.

His hips go rogue when you try to swallow him a little deeper, jerking forward and sending the firm tip to the back of your throat. Naturally, you lose your grip and gag around him, your eyes watering more and more with each subsequent unintended impact.

Quinn is bashfully apologetic, but you’re quick to remove him from your mouth.

“Shouldn’t you already know I like to choke on it?” your raspy voice goads.

You shoot him a wink before hollowing your cheeks to accommodate his wide girth, your tongue flattened and pressed tautly to the underside.

The shallow movement triggers images he shouldn’t have, bright and flashing through his head: of you, on your knees like this for that jerk-off ex-boyfriend of yours—of you, from a distance and fuzzy, forever immortalized in a single film unit pinned to the back wall of his closet.

Quinn does know you like to choke on it. He knows you like to be choked, too.Quinn knows a lot of things about you—likes, dislikes, sleep patterns, study habits… sexual preferences.

Your bizarre reaction to his Peeping Tom antics makes him wonder what you might know about him…

He’s given no time to fall down that rabbit hole on account of your nose brushing his public bone once more. Quinn cannot fathom how his length disappeared down your throat so smoothly, and it's useless to try, given how thoroughly muddied his head’s become with your tongue gently petting the delicate skin of his sack.

With your lips stretched around the base—and your thumb tucked into your palm to subdue innate reflex—you begin massaging what you can. Until you realize quinn has absolutely zero volume control. As crazy as his loud and breathy moans make you, you’ve come too far only to get this far.

Viscous, glasslike threads hang between your withheld mouth and his anguished cock in the lower fringe of your vision. Above you, Quinn is struggling, whimpering like a lost puppy caught in a storm. 

Lips parted ever-so-slightly, his forehead rests against the frame, limp. He's white-knuckling the historic, but recently refurbished wood, trembling in your barely-there hold because he’s that aroused. Mindlessly teetering on the border of “too much” and “not enough," all the while mumbling unintelligibly between choppy breaths.

You could get drunk on those pretty sounds; you’re sure of it. 

Maybe next time, you will.

“I know I said everyone was out, but I don’t think you want Ms. Patty busting through the door before you have a chance to.”

The thought of your sixty-year-old, strict-as-fuck house mother catching him with his pants around his ankles is just horrific enough to coax him a bit closer to the ground.

Quinn bites his lip in a show of good faith.

“Good boy,” you hum your approval while stroking him. “Now, tell me what you want. Tell me what you need to cum in my mouth, Quinn.”

“I need—f-fuck!” he grumbles, at war with himself. Ultimately, primal need overpowers the fickle social invention that is a shame: “I need you to play with… with my b-balls again—please.”

Delaying his wish, you wrap your mouth around him one last time. You need to elicit that one-of-one sudden, uneven intake of air—the giveaway gasp, the tremor of truth. Insatiable, you fill your throat to the brink. The distinct, thick scent of the day’s natural musk swirling with the sheen of hard work on the ice keeps you there until your vision blurs and drool pools under your tongue.

Motivated by a sticky, overdue reward and a whine bursting from deep in Quinn’s throat—the sweet sound of total surrender—you succumb to your own desire to make him feel the best he’s ever felt.

You lick at them gingerly at first, and with a doughy, flattened tongue. You meant to test the waters, to take things slow and drag out his orgasm, but a string of colorful language tumbles from his pretty, pink mouth to derail your plans.

With the dam crumbling, you have to suck one into your hot, wet mouth.

His reaction does not disappoint.

Your spit-soaked hands rise to his recently abandoned length as you devote equal attention to the pair with your mouth. Quinn swells and heavies on your tongue and everything is throbbing.

Including the tight heat between your knees, pulsing around the mere thought of him fucking you there instead.

“S’close, ‘m gonna c-cum soon—Shit!”

Amidst the drawn-out expletive, you detach in order to aim his release on his behalf (though very reluctantly), knowing full-well Quinn is far too gone to be capable of anything.

His eyelids flutter seconds before snapping open, intent to watch you watch him fall apart.

Oh, and fall apart he does…

Crude and ear-piercing, and over faster than either of you would’ve preferred, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little flattered by it. You enjoy how easy he is—how pliable.

His hips jerk too easily and his hands wander aimlessly, and you can’t bring yourself to chastise him, entirely consumed by the show unfolding at your hand. It's like he can’t help himself; can’t help but twitch and drip, can’t help but whimper and beg for anything and everything.

He won’t even let you pull away to catch your breath without whining. At one point, whether by accident or designed to keep you from retreating, Quinn’s knees squeezed together, effectively caging you in from both sides.

A messy concoction of cum, spit, and tears paints the lower half of your face. Quinn’s chest heaves as he watches it collect and drip down your neck and into the valley of your chest, soiling your delicate pajamas beyond repair.

Unfazed, you leave the emotionality to him while you lick your fingers clean. Once you’ve finished, you mop up the dissenter spray on your cheeks, chin, and décolletage, and greedily swallow it down, too. It's when you delve between your tits to scoop out the remainder of his spill that Quinn just about keels over.

He falls back against the window, and you shift back into your heels.

He rights his pants, and you wipe your mouth with the corner of your bathrobe. 

For a while, you observe one another, having not been this close—or alone—together before.

That’s not to say you didn’t notice him, though.

You actually struggled not to, and it drove your now-ex insane. His enmity toward Quinn came to a head this afternoon. Unable to deny your raging, juvenile crush, you finally pulled the trigger on something that was a long time coming—and for reasons beyond that not-so-unfounded jealousy.

“C-Can I have a head-start before you call the c-cops?” Quinn asks.

He’s so timid, you can’t help but laugh. He blinks down, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he rifles through yours, searching for malicious intent or knotted strings—fury behind an unspoken threat.

You let him look; this is a conclusion he needs to reach without you holding his hand.

When the investigation runs its course having turned up nothing dubious, he slides down to the floor beside you. He’s reverted to avoiding eye contact, unfortunately. Quinn watches the tremor in his fingers instead.

“I am sorry, y'know, about… Well, uh, you know.”

You find the way he dances around committing a felony (repeatedly) weirdly endearing.

While you very well could put him out of his palpable misery—you can actually smell it on him—there's no fun to be found in that. As such, you force Quinn to wrestle with his words a bit longer.

Eventually, you offer him a shrug that isn’t the least bit pacifying.

“You’re going to make it up to me, don’t worry.”

His eyes snap to yours just as you knew they would. His throat quivers in the wake of a sharp gulp.

The nervous tick cracks your nonchalant demeanor. You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to keep watching, you might as well make yourself useful.”

Quinn’s eyes narrow, perplexed. You grin in anticipation.

“My vibrator’s dead, and I can’t find the right charger. Time to get your ass off the bench, Hughes.”

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[nessabieberjxdn]

Capitan Hughes🫡

[hughesyluvr]

Rare pics back from Quinn’s draft?!?!?

[voidvannie]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒 — 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒂𝒖

.・゜・。. ┊𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 💌🎙️

˚. — 𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘊𝘚 !

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘 Tyler Noelle Hughes

𝗔𝗚𝗘 26

𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗔𝗬 October 9, 1997

𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 Savannah, Georgia

𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 5’ 8”

𝗘𝗬𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗥 Blue

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠 Megan Moroney

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 Mat Barzal

˚. — 𝘍𝘜𝘕 𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘚 !

Tyler was adopted by Ellen and Jim when she was only a few days old.

Has nothing to do with her birth parents, and never wants to know who they are.

Being 3 years older than he is, Tyler and Quinn are the closest to each other, with Jack and Luke tying for 2nd place. ( though, she often refers to luke had her baby )

Her love language is physical touch. she loves cuddling and hand holding, fidgeting with the fingers of whoever’s hand she’s holding when she’s nervous.

After graduating high school, she was accepted into the University of Georgia, where she went to school for nursing.

All her life, she has wanted be a country music star.

While still at UGA, she opened a concert for Chase Rice, as well as interned for Kristian Bush of Sugarland.

Instead of moving back home after finishing her degree, she moved to Nashville, Tennessee in 2020 to begin her music career.

She goes home every summer to spend time with her parents and her brothers, alone with the friends that the Hughes boys invited.

She sees all her brother’s friends as little brothers, especially Trever, Mark, Ethan and Jamie.

Even though all three of her brothers play for professional NHL teams, her favorite team is the Philadelphia Flyer, and she has a Hughes crush on Carter Harts despite the one year age difference.

She met Mat Barzal in 2019 at Stagecoach where she was preforming.

The two were best friends for a year before Mat asked her out on a date when she was visiting New York.

They started to date 2020, and decided to keep it out of the public and away from Quinn, Jack and Luke until she’s ready to tell them.

Of course her parents know about the relationship.

Her very best friend in Nashville is Kelsea Ballerini.

She dated Josh Allen, the quarterback from the Buffalo Bills, for 6 months.

Her favorite flower is daisies, having said that roses are too cliche.

She absolutely hates coffee, she’d rather drink hot chocolate.

She learned how to speak a little bit of Swiss so that she could bond with Nico and make him feel somewhat at home.

She tries to make it to hockey games as much as she can for many of the teams (examples; the devils, the canucks, ducks, islanders, and the occasional flyers game just for Carter).

Her favorite tv shows are the vampire diaries, supernatural and teen wolf.

When she is at home, her brothers make sure they all have a day with her to themselves. And on an odd day, one of the other hockey boys staying at the lake house, have a day with her.

Quinn, Luke, and Jack find out about their older sister’s relationship in 2021, almost a year after Tyler and Mat make it official.

Her brothers find out about her and Mat when they surprise her in Tennessee for the first show of her tour, and the Islanders hockey player answers the door while she’s in the shower, thinking it was Kelsea because she was coming over.

Trevor and Jamie knew about the two meeting at stagecoach when they went to support the blonde, but had no idea it had become more than just a friendship.

She has 2 instagram accounts. @/tylerhughes_97 ( her main account ) and @/notreallytyler ( her private account ) that only her closest friends follow.

Her favorite color is red.

She loves sour patch kids.

She loves her fans and touring, but she’s always happiest when she’s back home in Michigan or in New York with Mat.

𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 : 💭 soo, this is literally the very first time to post something on here, so i’m trying to get the hang of this so be patient with me😅. please, don’t be a silent reader, i want to hear what you guys will want to see in the future!

:💭 ( feel free to send any request of anything that you guys want to see in this series, and the series yet to come. I absolutely would love to make some of your idea’s come to life! )

[barzysunflower]

could you do a trip to the maldives with quinn hughes please maybe reader suggesting the trip to help him take his mind off of all of the craziness of the nux organization :)

tysm for the request!! it’s a bit short but I hope you like it. with only a few blurbs left I’m starting to run out of ideas 🥴 so sorry

come along the rest of the trip (5 left!!!)

📍maldives with quinn hughes

"How's the water?," you asked Quinn when he stopped in front of your lounge chairs. He grabbed his towel and started drying his hair.

“Very nice. I swear I saw a starfish or something but it swam away.” He took a seat on the chair next to you, taking a sip from his water bottle.

“I don’t think that can swim.”

“Of course. How else would it move around?” You shrugged, laughing. He joined, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.

You looked at each other lovingly and you stretched your hand out, needing to feel his touch. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it softly.

“Oh, I booked us a couples massage for later,” you told him, to which he raised his eyebrows.

“Couples massage or couples massage?”

“Couples massage,” you clarified with a laugh. “But we can do the a couples massage later when we get back to the room.”

The corners of his lips rose quickly to form a smirk. “Alright, if you want to.”

“It’s mostly for you. We’ve been here three days and you’re still not relaxed. I know how stressful things have been lately. That’s why we came here, but you’re still so stiff and not relaxed enough. So if the ocean and sun can’t relax you, someone will have to massage it out of you.”

“Fine, we can try it.” He kissed the back of your hand again. “But if we’re doing this, I’m getting a drink. And I don’t care if it’s only 11am. I’m on vacation.”

“Atta boy.” You high-fived him. “Bring me a margarita.”

[hughessdemon]

Man idk I’m a Jack girl but Captain Quinn kinda making me wanna go hide bc I’m blushin ����.

[lukehughesbabymama]

Quinn Hughes Blurb

Quinn Hughes, to you, lived in delusion. Only for one reason.

Your beloved boyfriend did not ask much from you, but he did always insist that you pick up his suits from the local dry cleaner. And his defense was always that he didn't want to have to interact with anyone or be filmed trying to live normally.

He'd found ways around going to the grocery store, the doctor, etc. But the dry cleaners, he had yet to hack. Therefore, you were his saving grace.

Anytime he'd have a suit to pick up for game day, you'd graciously run in and pick it up for him.

Sure, he could get admin from the Canucks to have all this done for him but that would be a little too First World for the modest guy. He had nothing against getting his clothes cleaned and pressed on his own despite the money and resources available to him. Or having you get his clothes to be more accurate.

You won't lie, you did see this task as. a little excessive and unnecessary. Quite frankly, Quinn Hughes was no Justin Bieber. And as much as you loved him, you knew there would be minimal to no disruptions between him getting out of his car, getting his suit from the cleaners, and getting back in his car. And you'd joke about this irrationality to him, but he never quite saw the humor in it. He didn't get mad, but never found it too funny either. He truly did not want to be out and about when he did not have to be.

Despite the reality of the situation, you did the task for your boyfriend out of love and it never really did inconvenience you.

That is until you were out of town for work, and Quinn would have to face his biggest fear. The dry cleaners left a voicemail to your inbox, notifying you that your garment was ready for pick up, and excitement grew in your body.

Excitement to tell Quinn that he'd need to pick up his game day suit all on his own and come face to face with the wildly rambunctious patrons of the dry cleaners who would surely harass him endlessly.

You'd finally have the satisfaction of him getting his own damn clothes without being bothered by anyone, so your life could return to normal. Did he truly think a crowd of paparazzi would be chasing him into the building with so many flashing lights that he'd be blinded? Apparently.

You texted him the news.

y/n: Dry cleaners called me your suits ready to be picked up Q

Quinn: shit what am I gonna do without my little personal assistant to get it for me

y/n: you're gonna be fine Quinn

Later that night, on the phone with him before bed, you decided to bring up the venture he had to go on earlier that day.

"How was the dry cleaners Quinn? Its so crazy in there right?" you questioned him sarcastically.

"It was fine"

"Were you bombarded by millions of crazy fans?", you said asked jokingly.

"Shut up" he replied, indirectly confirming that you would probably never have to pick up his dry cleaning for him again.

[paigehughes28]

Master list

This is the master list to all my hockey men imagines/stories I will be making!🫶🏼

Jack Hughes:

Quinn Hughes:

Luke Hughes:

Nico Hischier:

Jeremy Swayman:

Trevor Zegras:

[disue294]

We will not be seeing qhughes ig following sky rocket this summer bc of this #gf

Or will we?

[starsandhughes]

i am unwell

[gisellaswrld]

i’d go out of my way to receive your attention; wide eyed at the circumstances i’d do for you

qh43 | after an argument with quinn, you find yourself at the bars with your less than protective friends. quinn becomes the savior, yet things still weren’t right.

Going out to the bars was never an easily time for you. It was filled with constant anxiety and paranoia that something bad would happen to you. You weren't really an over-anxious person regularly, but when it came to going out, things were different.

Tonight, your friends suggested to take you out, telling you that you needed to take the load off after the month you had.

The previous month, it was like some sort of bad karma. First, your car broke down on the interstate during rush hour. Then, after you got your car home, someone broke into it that night. Not to mention all the work troubles, a small argument with your dad that left you sleepless.

The biggest of all? Quinn and you got into an argument a few days prior to tonight and you haven't spoke since.

It wasn't even a big argument to start. It was simply because Quinn forgot to mention that his parents were coming to Vancouver. You were unable to get any time off of work to be able to meet with them, and Quinn was not happy about it.

Of course, you got defensive because it wasn't your fault. Quinn just didn't want to see it in the way you did. Which led to four days of not speaking, the longest period of time you've gone without speaking to Quinn since you started to talk.

Your friends were taking you to the bar, one saying she'd be the designated driver for the night. Usually, being the DD was your position. Considering the friend was usually the one who drank the most on night outs, it made you anxious.

There was the possibility that she'd just not care and end up drinking, leaving no sober driver.

All in all, you were anxious before even leaving for the bar.

Your friends had to practically force you to down two drinks. Most people would call it peer pressure, but to them they were encouraging you to "fight your urges" or whatever.

You thought about messaging Quinn before you left your apartment, letting him know that you were out. But your friend, Olivia, confiscated your phone before you could even click on his contact name.

"Don't you feel much better now that you aren't sober?" Olivia shouted over the music, a giddy smile plastered on her face.

"Mhm," You raised your eyebrows, a fake smile on your face. "Can I have my phone back? I want to take some pictures." You lied, reaching out for your phone.

"Sure, I guess. No texting Quinn though! We don't chase, we attract."

You grabbed your phone from Olivia, scoffing at her saying. After shuffling through bodies of people, you finally made it to the bathroom. There were many ladies inside, drunkenly leaning on the counter and complementing each other.

You just needed a somewhat calmer environment than the scene outside the door.

Your brain had gotten overwhelmed, anxious thoughts were filling too quickly. Even with only two drinks, you knew you were done drinking. After a few deep breaths, you finally went back outside.

You searched for your friends, ultimately spotting them at the bar. Then, just as quickly as your mind has settled, it was filled with your worst fear. All of your friends were taking numerous shots, leaving none of them sober.

"Shit," You quietly whined to yourself.

You backed up back to the bathroom, leaning against the bathroom counter. You could call an uber. But that would leave a car here and then someone would come back and get it. It could get broken into, or stolen.

"Babe! You look sick," A drunken slur from a girl.

You looked over to see a ginger haired woman, drunkenly staring at you. A small smile appearing on your face.

"I'm okay,"

The girl shrugged, leaving the bathroom.

And for you? Well it wasn't hard to sneak outside, leaving your five friends inside. Olivia's words rang through your mind.

We don't chase, we attract. Bullshit.

You were quickly grabbing your phone from your purse, dialing Quinn's number. The cold air outside mixed with the anxiety and paranoia in your brain made your body shiver.

"Hello?" Quinn's voice sounded confused, and tired.

In his defense, it was 1 AM by this point.

"Quinn, I'm sorry if I woke you up. But my friends dragged me to the bar, they are all drunk, I've been drinking, I can't be here any longer. My head is-" Her rambling was quickly cut off.

"Which bar are you at?" Quinn quickly spoke and you could hear the sound of keys in the background.

You told Quinn the bar and waited for him, alone, outside.

The familiar purr of Quinn's engine is what made you lift your head from your knees. You opted on sitting outside on a curb, knees pulled close to your chest.

"Jesus, Y/N, what are you doing?" Quinn muttered a rhetorical question. He picked you up back onto your feet, his eyes trailing your body.

"I didn't want to go back inside because my friends would trap me, so I waited out here," You scanned your surroundings, now realizing the dark street that sat in front of the club.

Quinn gave you a disappointed look, crossing his arms over his chest as he shifted his weight. "By yourself? You realize it's fuckin' 1AM. Like you could've been-"

You quickly rolled your eyes, shoving past him as you got into the passenger seat in his car. Quinn stood on the sidewalk, presumably shocked by how you were acting, then eventually got in the drivers seat. He started to drive to your apartment.

If there was one word to describe the car ride, it would be tense. The whole entire vibe was heavy, too heavy for your brain. So you cracked the window. No words were spoken between Quinn and you. To you, it felt like this was the end. The end of a long journey.

You felt pieces of your heart chip away the closer you got to your apartment. (Though, if you hadn't been too preoccupied with staring out the window, you would've noticed Quinn spent 40% of the drive looking at the road, and 60% looking at you.)

Quinn parked in a parking spot, his usual spot. No one dared to move an inch, breath to loudly, do anything that showed a sign of life. After a harsh swallow, you were the first to speak.

"You can get your things from my apartment if you want," Your voice was so quiet, so soft. But it was only because if you spoke any louder, it would be a sob.

"What?" Quinn seemed confused, furrowing his eyebrows as he quickly looked at you.

"You can get your things-" Quinn was quick to interrupt.

"No, I heard you. I'm saying what because I'm confused where this was coming from." Quinn explained, turning to face you.

"When was the last time we spoke?"

Quinn sat silently, knowing the answer. He just didn't want to admit it.

"And how long have we been together?"

Still no reply from Quinn.

"Exactly Quinn. What am I supposed to expect if for the first time in our five year relationship, we go more than a day without speaking? What am I supposed to think when we have an argument and suddenly you just go mute?" Your voice wasn't raised, it wasn't angry, you were able to calmly express the thoughts in your brain.

"I don't know."

You nodded, tired of his overly simplistic and lack of effort answers. You got out of the car, walking to your apartment door.

For some reason, maybe it was the small amount of alcohol or the dark loom of thoughts that your relationship with the man you want to marry is coming to an end, by the time you reached your apartment door you were sobbing. More than sobbing, absolutely in hysterics, hyperventilating, shaking. It was surprisingly you even knew you were at your apartment.

Quinn, on the other hand, felt guilty. Guilty that he had no other reason besides being stubborn, guilty that he made you think everything was over, and most of all, guilty that you thought Quinn didn't love you. Because if Quinn didn't love you, he wouldn't have even brought you home.

So as quickly as you broke down, Quinn was right there by your side. He caught your body just as you were falling to your knees, bringing you into his own.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Quinn spoke, pressing his cheek against her hair. "I'm so sorry, I was being stubborn, I didn't realize what was going on."

Quinn continued to apologize. His sweet nothings filled your heart, and eventually you finally grasped onto him. When your arms wrapped around Quinn, that was all he needed to ease his worried mind.

"I'm tired." Was all you could mumble, mentally and physically tired by this whole night. It had exhausted you.

"Let's go sleep then."

[bedsyandco]

❍⌇𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐐𝐇𝟒𝟑 ‧₊˚ ꒱

pairing: fem!celeb!singer x quinn hughes

summary: in which a famous singer from vancouver has a little crush on her home team’s captain. there’s a Jayden mentioned in this (he is reader’s ex bf who is a professional football player. completely fictional!!)

genre: social media fic

fc: sabrina carpenter

note: I had so much fun creating this!! giving quinny the love he deserves!! as always I hope you like it and feedback is always appreciated and adored <3

YOUTUBE | COSMOPOLITAN POSTED !

-> some of the web’s most searched questions with Y/N L/N

1.7 M viewers | 52K likes | 3 dislikes | posted 2 weeks ago!

… (10K comments)

user56: OMG!? YN and hockey?? my two worlds colliding

user89: STOP. the way she’s blushing and giggling?? I mean same girl but-

user17: she’s so beautiful

user33: I NEED new music. like right now

⤷ user54: what do you think the new album is gonna be about?

⤷ user33: definitely Jayden. I can’t wait for the tea

user39: jumping from football to hockey💀

⤷ user61: don’t kid yourself YN has always been a hockey girl. she’s from Canada

user64: a win for the quinn girlies

⤷ user26: actually it’s not 😞

user99: guess I’m gonna have to watch hockey now

user23: she’s so real for being a quinn girl😌

⤷ user19: quinn is the hottest hughes brother confirmed

⤷ user11: he has brothers?? 🤭

nhl

liked by quinnhughes, trevorzegras and others.

nhl: canada’s very own pop star, Y/N L/N is confirmed to be one of the all-star celebrity captains. the singer will also be performing in between games on saturday!

view all comments

user53: do we know what team she’s the celeb captain of??

⤷ user65: if it’s not quinn’s…I will riot

⤷ nhl: Y/N is set to captain team hughes!

trevorzegras: might need to make another appearance at the all star game this year. you need a plus one? @.jackhughes

⤷ user55: trevor💀

⤷ user32: $50 he’s only doing this to piss quinn off😭

yourusername: so so excited! I can’t wait!

⤷ user95: shoot your shot queen

user76: oh I can’t wait for the YN and quinn content

⤷ user53: you think he’s gonna be practicing his smile in the mirror every day so he doesn’t look like a haunted cat when he meets her

⤷ eliaspettersson: 100%

[hughesyluvr]

Ok we NEED to discuss what songs are ‘Jack Hughes’ coded, I wanna make a playlist so bad. I have ‘so American’ by Olivia Rodrigo, ‘daylight’ and ‘you are in love’ by Taylor swift but I NEED MORE PLS DISCUSS IVE BEEN THINKING AB THIS FOR MONTHS.

[huggybearluvr]

Oops | nh13

instagram edit

pairing: nico hischier x hughes!reader

summary: You and Nico finally announce your relationship and to say your brothers were surprised would be an under statement.

Masterlist

y/nhughes

tagged: lukehughes and jackhughes

liked by lukehughes, yourbestfriend, and others...

y/nhughes I am loving jersey!! so glad I let dumb and dumber talk me into moving in with them <3

view all comments...

yourbestfriend UHMMM GIRL U HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL ME?

y/nhughes hmmmm I don't think so?

jackhughes WHOSE THE GUY?!?

y/nhughes who?

lukehughes don't play. last pic. who. is. it.

y/nhughes idk.

jackhughes IS HE ON OUR TEAM?!?

y/nhughes idkkkkk

trevorzegras OH HE TOTALLY IS.

colecaufiled dont worry guys its just me

y/nhughes you fucking wish cole.

jackhughes which one of you fuckers is, @dawsonmercer @johnmarino I know its one of you.

dawsonmercer ITS NOT ME WHAT?!?

johnmarino HOW THE HELL COULD IT BE ONE OF US WE HAVEN'T EVEN MET HER?

user1114 OMG it has to be one of the boys!!!!

user887 it has to be!

nicohischier how do u catch pasta on fire???

y/nhughes jack.

jackhughes I waas trying to make you a welcome to jersey dinner.

y/nhughes its okay. its the thought that counts.

nicohischier

tagged: y/nhughes

liked by y/nhughes, dawsonmercer, and others...

nicohischier Happy one year my love <3 heres to many many more. I love you y/n.

view all comments...

jackhughes WHAT. THE. HELL.

jackhughes A YEAR WTF

lukehughes OUR CAPTAIN?! REALLY Y/N

y/nhughes I love you nico. (ignore my brothers they suck.)

nicohischier (was already planning on it)

quinnhughes Glad I dont have to keep it a secret anymore. Congrats on one year!

jackhughes YOU KNEW?!

lukehughes AND DIDN'T TELL US?!

quinnhughes you too introduced them at the lake house and were oblivious to their flirting unlike me.

lukehughes WHAT.

dawsonmercer @jackhughes apologize to me and johnny boy rn.

jackhughes I'm sorry.

jackhughes @y/nhughes I still don't get why you chose OUR captain.

y/nhughes his abs

nicohischier wow babe. I thought it was my thighs.

y/nhughes BOTH

lukehughes EW EW EW EW EW EW

jackhughes EW EW EW EW EW EW EW

[sunkissed-zegras]

🌱 jack soft launching you on insta

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ warnings | nothing but cuteness and y/n being ICONICCCC

♡ ─ ev's notes | i love insta edits theyre so fun

jackhughes michigan

Liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, yourusername and 197,972 more

jackhughes | recently ☀️😎 tagged: lhughes_06, quinnhughes august 15th, 2023

View all 10,324 comments

lhughes_06 | 😙😎😏

fan01 | WHAT.

fan02 | jack soft launching his girl on a random tuesday in august is so iconic help

↳ fan03 THIS RUINED MY NIGHT NOOOOOOOOO

↳ fan02 HELPPPPP JACK IS SO ICONIC (ive been screaming into my pillow for the last hour)

quinnhughes | wait thats such a good photo i wonder who took it???? 😎🤨

↳ lhughes_06 hmm... 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ jackhughes i wonder who????? 😟

trevorzegras | no invite to the yacht IS CRAZY

trevorzegras | parents 🥳

↳ fan004 GUYS THIS ISN'T A DRILL

↳ fan005 good 😭😭😭 for😭😭😭 them😭😭😭😭😭

[pinned] yourusername | 😛🥸

↳ jackhughes 🫶🏼🩷

↳ fan06 HES EVEN USING THE PINK HEART YALL HES COOKED😭😭😭😭

yourusername

Liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 10,039 more

yourusername | i told y'all i wasn't delulu 🥳 tagged: jackhughes, yourbestfriend august 20th, 2023

View all 2,485 comments

yourbestfriend | SHE WAS NOT DELULU I WAS THERE!!!!

↳ yourusername she was!!!!!!!!!!

↳ fan06 guys... shes one of us

lhughes_06 | photo creds for that middle pic please and ty

↳ yourusername sorry king i will tag u as soon as i can 🫡🫡

↳ lhughes_06 also is ur friend single asking for a friend

↳ yourusername sigh...

fan007 | SHES CUTE GUYS

↳ fan08 im SOOOO happy for them🫠🫠🫠🫠

↳ fan09 i cried ngl

↳ fan08 thats so real😪

quinnhughes | 🫡

↳ yourusername 🫡🫡

trevorzegras | mama and papa 🫢

↳ yourusername ohhh... umm.. thats not...

↳ jackhughes our child 🫶🏼

↳ yourusername no

↳ jackhughes yes ur right no, get out trevor

↳ trevorzegras OH SO NOW U TAKE HER SIDE

↳ jackhughes oh yes, yes i am😄

fan10 | THAT SHOULD BE ME.

↳ yourusername the early bird gets the worm🤑

↳ jackhughes so im the worm now??

↳ yourusername yes with love👌🏼

↳ fan11 THEYRE SO FUNNY HELPPPP

↳ fan12 we approve jack, we approve this one🫡

↳ fan13 shes lowkey a baddie wait

↳ fan14 ngl i kinda want her now..... is that bad??

↳ jackhughes yes. shes mine💅🏻

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡