EXES ; quinn hughes ( short fic )
pairing : ex!quinn x fem!reader wc. 2.7k
genre : angst, fluff at the end warnings: mentions of alcohol
summary : a chance encounter at a party forces you and your ex, quinn, to confront the love and pain neither of you has been able to move past
the soft hum of conversation filled the air, intermingling with the clink of glasses and laughter that seemed to float through the house. it was jack’s birthday, and as expected, the party was full of friends, family, and good cheer. but for you, the night felt like a slow, torturous loop of misery.
it had been four months since you and quinn had broken up, but seeing him here—standing across the room, laughing and talking to some of his friends—felt like a punch to the gut. the way he smiled, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the same way it did when you were together… it all made your chest tighten. your stomach churned, but you forced yourself to breathe. you’d had enough time to move on… right?
“hey, are you okay?” your friend, lena, asked, her voice soft but concerned. you turned to her, attempting a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
“yeah, just… fine,” you said, taking another sip of your drink to calm your nerves. it was easier to mask the hurt with alcohol than to confront it head-on.
lena didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the issue. instead, she followed your gaze to where quinn was standing. she raised an eyebrow. “you sure you’re okay with all this?”
you glanced back at her. “i’m fine,” you said a little too quickly, clinking your glass to emphasize the point. “really.”
but the moment you looked away from her, your eyes found quinn again. he was talking to someone, laughing at something they said, but the way he looked over at you for a brief second… it was almost like he knew you were still here—still staring at him like a love-struck idiot.
the ache in your chest grew, and without thinking, you downed the rest of your drink, already moving toward the kitchen to grab another. you needed something stronger. something to make you forget that quinn had once been the most important person in your life.
the night blurred into an assortment of faces, music, and chatter, but you hardly noticed any of it. your head felt heavy, your thoughts scrambled. you had been drinking for hours, and yet the thought of quinn never seemed to leave you. he had barely glanced at you since you arrived, and every time you caught him looking in your direction, he quickly turned away. but maybe that was for the best. after all, you were the one who had ended things. it was better this way, wasn’t it?
still, when you saw him laugh at something jack said, your heart squeezed again.
“you need to slow down,” lena told you, her voice gentle but firm. “you’re already looking a little tipsy.”
“i’m fine,” you muttered, not even bothering to explain that the alcohol wasn’t to get tipsy—it was to numb the sharp pain of seeing quinn, of remembering how he felt in your arms, how his voice had once been the only thing that could calm you.
you took another sip of your drink, your vision slightly blurred. it was then that you felt a hand on your arm. it wasn’t lena, though—it was quinn.
“hey,” he said softly, his voice warm. “are you okay?”
you froze for a moment, the alcohol making everything feel like a dream. his hand on your arm sent a jolt through you, but you quickly shook it off. no. don’t go there.
“i’m fine,” you said again, a little too sharply. “just—just trying to enjoy the party.”
quinn didn’t say anything at first. he watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering like he was trying to figure out something in your eyes. it made your skin tingle, but you refused to look back at him for too long.
“i think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight,” he said, his tone cautious, almost protective.
you wanted to argue, but the words came out wrong. “i-i’m not drunk,” you slurred, looking up at him, then stumbling slightly. the alcohol was starting to take over, and you were losing control of your words. “i just… miss you.”
you hadn’t meant to say it. but there it was, hanging in the air between you both, thick with longing. you quickly grabbed your drink again, hoping the distraction would somehow make everything disappear.
but before quinn could respond, someone bumped into you, knocking your drink out of your hand and spilling it all over your dress.
“oh my god! i’m so sorry!” the person stammered, backing away quickly.
your breath caught in your throat. the alcohol, the mess, the memories—all mixed together. you wanted to scream but couldn’t. instead, you blinked at the stain on your dress, feeling like it was the least of your problems.
and then, before you could even gather yourself, quinn was there, his hand on your elbow. “come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
he didn’t wait for an answer as he gently guided you upstairs, away from the noise and the people. his touch was careful, almost tender, and it made your pulse race, despite the drunken haze you were in.
he led you into one of the bathrooms, shutting the door behind you. “wait here,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “i’ll get you something to change into.”
you nodded, though it felt like a slow-motion blur. you couldn’t think straight anymore. quinn was here, and you hadn’t expected to be alone with him again—especially not like this.
when he came back, he had a shirt and sweatpants in hand, which he handed over to you. “i found these in jack’s closet. they should fit.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle. “jack’s clothes? really?” your voice wavered, but you managed a weak grin.
quinn smiled too, a slight curve to his lips. “i’m sure he won’t mind.” his eyes softened, the usual teasing glint replaced with something gentler. “i’ll, uh, give you a minute to change.”
you paused for a moment, then took a shaky breath. the room felt small, the tension thick between you two. “quinn,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but he still heard it.
quinn stepped closer, his presence so close now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. “it’s okay,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “you’re upset. let me help.”
you didn’t respond, only watched as quinn took the small step toward you. his eyes never left yours as his fingers gently pulled at the straps of your dress. it wasn’t just the alcohol making your heart race now. it was the tension between you two, thick and palpable, lingering in the air.
“quinn…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath hitching.
“shh,” he murmured, gently pulling the fabric down. “i’ve got you.”
you stood still, allowing him to help you out of your dress. his hands moved so carefully, like he was afraid to hurt you, but you could feel the weight of his touch—steady, sure. when the dress finally slipped off your body, you found yourself standing there in just your underwear, suddenly vulnerable.
quinn stepped back, but only a little, his eyes scanning you as if trying to make sure you were still okay. you wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the tension was too thick. it felt like everything was building up to something. you could feel his gaze burning into you, and your pulse quickened.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling embarrassed. “i didn’t mean to make this… awkward.”
quinn’s eyes softened. “don’t apologize,” he said, stepping closer again. “you didn’t make it awkward. i just… i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
but you couldn’t shake the way your body responded to him, the way your heart raced just from the proximity. there was something undeniable between you two, something that neither of you could escape.
quinn stood there, holding the towel out for you, his eyes watching you with a mixture of concern and something else—something softer, deeper. you cleaned yourself as best as you could, but the emotions brewing inside you couldn’t be wiped away so easily.
“quinn,” you started, your voice trembling. you didn’t know what you wanted to say, only that you couldn’t keep the weight of it inside anymore. his name lingered in the air, and he stilled, his hand hovering mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he should step closer or keep his distance.
“what is it?” he asked softly, his voice steady, patient.
you gripped the edge of the sink to steady yourself, staring at your reflection in the mirror. the tired eyes staring back at you weren’t just from the alcohol—they were from the months of restless nights, from trying and failing to move on. your throat tightened as the words bubbled up before you could stop them.
“i’m not okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears threatened to spill. “i keep telling myself i’m fine, that i can do this, but i’m not.”
quinn’s brows furrowed, his expression softening as he stepped closer. “hey, it’s okay—”
“no, it’s not,” you cut him off, finally turning to face him. the tears began to fall freely now, your chest heaving with the effort of holding everything in for so long. “it hasn’t been okay since we broke up. i thought ending things was the right thing to do, but it hasn’t made it hurt any less.”
his gaze searched yours, his own pain flickering in his expression. “you don’t have to do this right now,” he said gently, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his own emotions.
“yes, i do,” you insisted, stepping toward him. “you don’t get it, quinn. i thought i could move on, but i see you, and it’s like every part of me remembers how much i… how much i still love you. and it’s killing me.”
your confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, one that could snap at any moment. you expected him to look away, to pull back, but instead, quinn’s shoulders sagged slightly, and his expression softened into something raw and unguarded.
“do you think it’s been any easier for me?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “you think i stopped caring about you just because we weren’t together anymore?”
you opened your mouth to respond, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t let the words escape.
“i didn’t want us to end,” he continued, his voice breaking now. “but i thought it’s what you needed. and i’ve been trying to respect that, even when it’s felt like… like i lost a part of myself when i lost you.”
the tears flowed freely now, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, burying your face in his chest. he didn’t hesitate this time. his arms wrapped around you, holding you as if he could piece you back together.
“i’m so tired of pretending i’m okay,” you whispered into his shirt, your words muffled but clear enough. “i’m not okay without you.”
quinn rested his chin on the top of your head, his hand running soothing circles along your back. “you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he murmured.
for the first time in months, you let yourself cry freely in his arms, the weight of your grief and longing finally finding release. the warmth of his embrace steadied you, anchoring you to the moment. but the alcohol in your system, combined with the emotional exhaustion of the night, began to catch up with you.
your legs wobbled slightly, and quinn noticed immediately, tightening his hold on you to keep you upright. “hey,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look down at you. his hand came up to gently brush a tear from your cheek. “you’re exhausted.”
you nodded weakly, barely able to keep your eyes open. the adrenaline from your confession had worn off, leaving you feeling drained. “i just… i think i need to lie down,” you murmured, your voice faint.
quinn’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening. “come on,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “let’s get you to bed.”
he slipped an arm around your waist, guiding you out of the bathroom and down the quiet hallway. the muffled sounds of the party continued downstairs, but they felt distant now, like they belonged to another world. your focus was solely on quinn—on the steadiness of his hand on your back, the faint scent of his cologne, the way he slowed his steps to match yours as you stumbled slightly.
when you reached the guest bedroom, quinn pushed the door open with one hand, his other still steadying you. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, the bed neatly made and inviting.
he helped you sit down on the edge of the mattress. “you’re going to feel better once you get some rest,” he said, his voice quiet but soothing.
you blinked down at him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. “quinn…” you whispered, your words slurring slightly, “thank you.”
he glanced up at you, his expression softening. “you don’t have to thank me,” he replied, standing to pull the blankets back. “just lie down, okay?”
you nodded, allowing him to help you shift onto the bed. as soon as your head hit the pillow, the weight of the night pressed down on you, and your body sank into the mattress. but even as sleep threatened to pull you under, a lingering thought refused to let go.
“quinn,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “stay.”
the words left your lips without thinking, a quiet plea, and in that moment, you felt vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in months. the silence that followed was thick, laden with something you couldn’t quite place.
quinn stood there, still by the bed, his posture stiff, almost hesitant. his eyes softened, but there was a brief flicker of uncertainty in them, as if he was weighing something in his mind.
you could hear his quiet breath, the faint sound of his pulse. he took a step back, looking down at his feet, like he wasn’t sure if he should cross the line, whatever that line was now. his gaze flickered to the door as though he might leave—he could leave. but then, his eyes shifted back to you, and something in him seemed to change.
“are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost tentative, but his gaze never leaving yours. “you don’t need to—”
“i do,” you interrupted softly, your voice barely a whisper. “i just… i don’t want to be alone.”
quinn’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath. he hesitated again, just for a moment. then, without another word, he kicked off his shoes, his expression unreadable but somehow gentle.
you watched him as he took a step toward the bed, slowly sitting beside you. the mattress dipped under his weight, the familiar sound of his movements making your heart skip in your chest. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or just the need for his closeness, but everything about this moment felt different, like an unspoken promise hanging between you both.
quinn stretched out beside you, his arm reaching across to pull the blanket over the two of you. slowly, he gathered you close, his movements careful but instinctual. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into the crook of his chest.
for a brief moment, you could feel his warmth—his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear. the scent of him, familiar and grounding, filled your senses. the tension that had lived in your chest for months, ever since the breakup, seemed to ease as he held you there.
“i’m not going anywhere,” quinn whispered, his voice barely a breath against your ear. his hand gently brushed through your hair, the movement so soothing that you felt your body relax almost immediately.
for a while, there was silence, just the sound of his steady breathing and your own, the comforting rhythm of his presence.
you closed your eyes, the last bit of consciousness slipping away as the alcohol finally took full effect. you were drifting, falling into sleep, but not before you felt quinn tighten his hold just slightly—almost like he didn’t want to let go.
and in that moment, you believed him. he wasn’t leaving.
