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Qh43 - Blog Posts
He’s so hot! I need him
since the season is over, being a boyfriend is his full-time job now
Don’t make pookie talk after losses😭
Cutie
GAWD DAMN HE IS SO FINEEEEEEEEEEEE
I love my big blue eyes
*sigh* brown contacts aren't enough
Quinn's beautiful smile 🥰🥰🥰
(Postgame. Vancouver Canucks @ Calgary Flames, Mar 12, 2025)
Princess
need to kiss quinn bad, wherever he is rn lol
understandable. i mean look at him. very kissable
Cutie patootie
Quinn's smiling. Nothing else matters.
(They showed it again! Now I have a better video.)
(Detroit Red Wings @ Vancouver Canucks, Feb 2, 2025)
I'm so fucked. Wtf. Sir, it's 8am. What the fuck do you want me to do?
Arrival in Dallas. Jan 30, 2025
Alright, okay | Vancouver Canucks vs Blues Jan 27th | Quinn Hughes
my smiley baby
The Canucks shut out the Maple Leafs in Toronto!
Silly baby
quinn baby what is this 😭 the way he just looks at his skate as if it betrayed him
do you think the guys laughed? do you think he was embarrassed?
The Teacher's Always Right
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.
Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.
"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?
"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself
"Do you have boyfriend?"
"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.
"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.
Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.
"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.
"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.
"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.
"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.
"He's a hockey player."
"Like beer league?"
"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.
"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?
"You don't believe me?"
"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.
"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.
"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.
"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."
It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.
He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.
"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.
"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.
"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.
"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.
"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.
"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.
You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.
It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"
"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"
"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"
"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.
"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.
"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.
"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."
You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.
"You serious?"
"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.
"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.
"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."
"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."
He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.
"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"
He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.
Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.
"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.
"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.
"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.
It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.
The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.
You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"
"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.
"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.
"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"
"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.
It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.
You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.
"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"
"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.
"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."
You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."
"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.
"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."
"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.
Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.
"You ready for this?"
"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.
"See you on the rink?"
"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.
You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.
You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.
You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.
"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"
"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.
He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.
"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.
"Anything for my girl."
"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.
"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.
You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.
Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.
"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.
"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.
He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."
You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.
"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.
"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"
"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.
"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.
David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.
"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"
"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."
"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"
"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.
"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.
A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.
You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"
"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,
"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."
"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."
"Okay."
"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.
"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.
"You're such a fucking nerd."
"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."
"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."
"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.
HES JUST A BABY!!!!!
no cause this is not quinn hughes, THIS IS HUGGY BEAR HE LOOKS SO SOFT SO COZY
I WANT A HUGGY BEAR
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💕💕😽😽
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Curls😩
approximately three apples tall
smiley
THE HAIR THE FUCKING HAIR
i'm not doing too well
No Quinny or bedsy goal
BUT Canucks win!!!
And Quinny assist
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
He needs a baby (I volunteer)
boy dad quinn please gorgeous
Omg yess thank you for the request love getting them💕 hope you like it
A Little Fan’s First Game-Quinn hughes
Quinn hughes x reader
Masterlist
The hum of excitement filled Rogers Arena as fans streamed in, donning their blue and green Canucks jerseys. Among the sea of supporters, Y/N stood out, balancing a squirming little boy on her hip. Nate, their two-year-old son, was dressed in a miniature Quinn Hughes jersey, complete with the number 43 on the back. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in the bustling arena around him.
“This place is huge, huh, buddy?” Y/N murmured, kissing the top of his head.
Nate responded with a series of excited babbles, pointing at the ice. “Daddy! Daddy!”
Y/N laughed. “We’ll see Daddy soon, Nate. Let’s get to our seats first.”
They made their way down to a prime spot near the glass, a perfect view for Nate’s first hockey game. Y/N settled into her seat, setting Nate on her lap. The little boy immediately leaned forward, pressing his tiny hands against the cool glass.
The Canucks were warming up on the ice, and Y/N spotted Quinn almost instantly. His smooth skating and effortless puck handling made him stand out. He glanced toward the stands, searching, and when his eyes landed on Y/N and Nate, his face lit up with a smile.
“Daddy!” Nate squealed, banging his hands on the glass with enthusiasm.
Quinn skated over, tapping his stick lightly against the glass in front of Nate. The toddler’s laughter was infectious, drawing smiles from fans seated nearby.
Y/N waved, holding up Nate’s hand to wave too. “Say hi to Daddy!”
“Hi, Daddy!” Nate shouted, his little voice muffled by the glass.
Quinn chuckled, then skated to the bench, where he grabbed a puck. Skating back, he tossed it gently over the glass, aiming it perfectly into Y/N’s hands.
“For Nate,” he mouthed, giving them a wink.
Y/N showed the puck to Nate, who clutched it tightly in his tiny hands. “Look, Nate! Daddy gave you a puck!”
The little boy held it up proudly, his eyes wide. “Daddy’s puck!”
The warmups continued, but Nate’s attention stayed fixed on Quinn. He clapped his hands every time his dad skated by, cheering loudly with an energy that belied his small size.
“Can’t wait to tell Daddy how good he’s doing, huh?” Y/N whispered in Nate’s ear, earning a giggle from the boy.
When the game began, the excitement only grew. Nate bounced on Y/N’s lap, clapping his hands along with the crowd. Every time the Canucks scored, he’d throw his arms up in the air, mimicking the celebration he saw on the ice.
By the second intermission, Y/N could tell Nate was getting a bit tired. His eyelids drooped, and his head rested against her shoulder, but his little hands still clung to the puck as if it were his most prized possession.
During the third period, with the Canucks holding a narrow lead, Quinn made a great defensive play, stealing the puck and sending it down the ice. The crowd roared, and even Nate, despite his fatigue, perked up, clapping his hands slowly.
When the final horn sounded, signaling a Canucks win, Y/N stood, holding Nate up so he could see the ice better. Quinn and his teammates skated around, waving to the crowd. He stopped near their section again, tapping his stick on the ice and pointing up at Nate.
“Wave to Daddy one more time,” Y/N encouraged, helping Nate lift his hand.
“Bye-bye, Daddy!” Nate called out, his voice sleepy but full of love.
Quinn grinned, giving them a final wave before disappearing down the tunnel.
---
Later that evening, back at home, Quinn sat on the couch with Nate nestled against him. The little boy was clutching his puck tightly, his eyes half-closed as he fought off sleep.
“You were my good luck charm tonight, buddy,” Quinn said softly, running a hand through Nate’s dark hair.
Y/N sat beside them, her head resting on Quinn’s shoulder. “He was so excited the whole time. You should’ve seen how he was cheering for you.”
Quinn smiled, leaning over to kiss Y/N’s temple. “I saw. Thanks for bringing him tonight. It meant a lot.”
Y/N smiled back. “It was perfect. He’s going to be your biggest fan, you know.”
Quinn looked down at his son, who was now fast asleep, the puck still clutched tightly in his little hands. “He already is,” he whispered, his heart full.
💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕
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you’re serving cunt? you just got tripped and you’re….serving cunt???