the ‘well what did you expect’ reaction to the u.s. mens post-win-shitshow is so frustrating cause. actually i think these are really unique circumstances we’re living in and it’s more than just oh white man is republican, and i think a lot of people are normalizing the acts of this administration by acting like it isn’t. the shit happening over here has gotten so undeniably egregious so yeah it is a bit devastating seeing them party with ultra mega super evil overlord’s henchman who is playing an active role in ripping people’s lives apart, and then going above and beyond locker room talk by also parading it around on the internet after the fact. i literally do not give a fuck how drunk they were these are grown ass men who fully know what they’re doing.
and none of that is even to mention the side issue of the hughes brothers, whose mother has played and is STILL playing an active role in the expansion of women’s sports, going on their little pr zoom calls and media availability and glazing women in sports just to turn around and punch down on them with neo-hitler himself.
nuance exists but it does not exist here. having grown up in the south as a leftist like yes it is so complicated seeing people you love turn out to be morally inept pieces of shit but these are rich white men you do not know. there’s a major difference between not really knowing where they stand vs now having it splayed out in front of you. you do not need to support them. frankly i hope not a single man in that room feels the touch of another human being for the remainder of their lifetime.
"it's okay to be upset that your favorite hockey player turned out to be an asshole" and "most if not all hockey players are privileged conservative assholes so you should lower your expectations" and "you should always hold your favorite players accountable when they do mess up" are all statements that can and should coexist, actually
Summary: You didn’t care much for your birthday, but Quinn did. And he wants to make sure you’ve got the best one yet.
Pairings: quinn hughes x gf!reader
Warnings: suggestive themes but nothing in detail
I know he just got traded, but for the purpose of the story he’s been in Minnesota for a while
“No way.” Brock says, eyes widening as you watch him stretch. Noting his shoulder movements before having him switch to the other side.
You’ve worked with the Wild team since 2020, and being on the medical team means you’re kept busy every day of your life. From bloody faces, to career slowing injuries, you were always present. You loved your job, it gave you a purpose and even more than the team, you loved the game. The cold air in the arena, the shouting of fans, the slapping sound the puck makes against a stick. The team adored you, looking after you even though you barely ever conversed with anyone outside of a Wild jersey on game days.
There of course was no one who watched out for you like Quinn. It wasn’t a surprise to most when you and Quinn took your relationship public. You kept it in the dark for a while, except for Brock and Matt. When you first got the job working for the Wild, they made sure you had everything. They showed you around the town, as you were not from here. They helped you build furniture, buy a car, do everything. And from then on they became some of your best friends. So when Quinn got traded, and the pair witnessed how you and Quinn acted around each other, they tried at every turn to push you both together.
From saying Quinn was injured, even when he wasn’t, so you’d keep a closer eye on him. From inviting him everywhere you went with the pair so he could feel included. It didn’t take long for them to notice Quinn was head over heels, and you were so oblivious. But once the pair of meddling boys finally pushed Quinn past his limit, he walked you to your car and kissed you. It was game over from there. Where you were, Quinn was, and Brock and Matt had never seen a man more in love. It was perfect, and the team and you, especially the four of you, were inseparable.
“Yes way.” You say, laughing and clearing him. He took a hard hit the other day, and even though he didn’t think he was babying his shoulder, you noticed.
“He’s so fucking in love.” Brock says to you, putting the band back. “You know I take all the credit. Matt sat back while I did all the dirty work.”
“Whatever you think, Faber.” You say, laughing a bit at him.
At that moment, Quinn walks into your office, his hair wet from just showering. His tight black long sleeve clinging to all his muscles, making your breath pick up a bit.
“Am I all clear now?” Brock asks, noticing the way you and Quinn are eyeing each other up. “I want to get out of here before you guys decide to have scandalous office activities.”
“I have no clue what you’re on about.” Quinn says, walking past Faber to lean against your desk. Obviously everyone in the league knows of your relationship, but you and Quinn agreed not to be so out there in front of people. This means only a handful of times have you been bent over your desk, not everyday like Quinn would like you to be.
“Bye Y/N, have a good birthday.” Brock says, smiling to you and saying bye to Quinn.
“So what’s the plan tonight?” You question him, closing your door behind Brock and stepping into Quinn’s space. His cheeks held a slight flush from practice, and the smell of body wash wafts to you, making you smile.
“The plan? Well that’s a secret yet.” He says, resting his hands on your waist as you walk in between his spread legs.
“Oh come on, you’re really not going to tell me?” You say, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you look up at him.
“I told you this morning.” He says, brushing your hair back and kissing you. “I’ve got everything under control.”
Quinn had been looking forward to your birthday, he sees how much you do for him, for everyone. You take everything on and you never complain. He wanted to spoil you, more than he already does.
The morning started out with Quinn under the sheets, arguably his favorite place to be besides on the ice. He made breakfast, and as you walk out to the kitchen, you were greeted with flowers and gifts.
“Quinn, you don’t need to do this.” You say, his shirt that you were wearing riding up a bit on your thigh as you go to hug him.
“You saying you don’t want it? I can return what I got you.” He says, his eyes staying tuned in on your thighs.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” You say, walking behind the man, fingers rubbing against the band of his shorts.
You ate breakfast, and opened what he got you, which was exactly what you wanted. The thing about Quinn was that you didn’t need to tell him what you wanted. You didn’t even need to hint at something. He would pick up on what you say, or just knows what you need.
You drove together to the rink, like you did everyday. He never let you drive, even though he bought you a brand new and very reliable car. You would try to insist driving separately on certain days, days that you know you have to work later. But Quinn never let up, if he was done with practice before you were done working he’d stay in your office for however long.
As you turn on the lights to your office, you were greeted with balloons, a sign, and another present wrapped sitting in the middle of your desk.
You shook your head, reading a note from admin, and then the note from the team. Nice little notes and good wishes written in from the entire team. As you open the present, you smile, another gift from Quinn.
In fact, they haven’t stopped all day. You almost started to feel guilty.
But now, as you kiss in your office, you want nothing more than to go home and stay there all night. But you were cut off by your phone, buzzing and ringing against your desk. As you reach for it Luke’s icon filled the screen, flipping it to Quinn to show him who it was, and smiling as you pick up.
“Hey Lu.” You say, smiling as his face fills the screen.
“Happy Birthday! I hope my brother is taking care of you.”
You turn your phone so Quinn is in the picture, and he flips off his youngest brother.
“He’s been very good today. I’ll have to reward him later.” You say, and Luke freezes.
“I would have been fine without that thought, thanks a lot.”
“Hey! Don’t be mean to the birthday girl!” You exclaim, loving when you say out of pocket things to Luke.
The phone call wrapped up and before you knew it you and Quinn were heading to his car. He played your favorite music, even singing along lightly.
He had unlocked your apartment door, and before the door fully closed behind you both, you lunged yourself at him.
If Quinn died right now, he’d die a happy man. Bodies pressed up against each other, you in his arms. Maybe he did die and this is heaven, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
“We’ve got one place left to be.” Quinn whispers, your lips making a trail down his neck.
You groan slightly in annoyance, and Quinn is so close to texting them all and saying they aren’t coming. In fact, he reaches for his phone, but the text from Boldy stops him.
“Okay.” You pull back, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m all yours, but are you going to tell me the dress code for this?” You question, realizing you’re still in your work clothes and he’s still in post practice clothes.
“I’ll go lay something out for you.” Quinn states, grabbing onto your ass and squeezing before leaving you in the kitchen. Jesus, this was going to be a long night if he couldn’t contain himself.
You watch him as he walks away, smiling. He spoiled you like crazy, and you still have one more thing? You made multiple mental notes to start planning for his birthday.
The car ride seemed long, your dress that Quinn laid out for you hugging your body.
“Going to tell me yet?”
“Nope.” Quinn says, “same answer that I gave you a minute ago when you asked me.” He says, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your thigh. And you decided to give up asking.
When Quinn finally parks the car your eyes are already scanning the illuminated sign to your favorite place in Minnesota.
“It may not be much,” he starts to say when he notices you looking. But you cut him off with a kiss.
“It’s my favorite person and my favorite place. It’s more than enough. Honestly, it’s perfect.” You say, stepping out of the car and walking hand in hand to the door.
“Happy Birthday!” The shouting hits you as soon as you walk in. And in the tables and booths in the back you see the Minnesota Wild.
“It’s your favorite place, and your favorite people.” Quinn whispers in your ear. His front pressing up against your back. “Happy birthday.”
You turn and throw your arms around him, he knew you so well. And you weren’t lying, this is perfect. The end to a great day, celebrating with everyone you love.
You greet the team, hugging and saying how appreciative you are that everyone wanted to come out.
“We wouldn’t miss.” Kirill says, pushing your favorite drink over to you.
You smile lovingly at the man, and before long everyone is laughing, playing pool, shooting darts. You move from person to person, happy to include yourself in conversations amongst the guys. But there was a certain set of two you haven’t talked with yet. The two who welcomed you to this city. At the edge of the bar you spot the pair talking with Quinn, drinks in hand, all looking relaxed. You take in the smile that graces Quinn’s face as he talks with them. You’ve never felt so full.
With Matt and Brock’s backs to you, Quinn eyes you as you walk towards them but continues on talking. Not that he ever truly stopped watching you, but his smile only grew as you embraced your two best friends before tucking yourself into his side.
“So did Quinn do a good job?” Matt jokes, and smiles as you nod your head.
“I don’t think he could top this day if he tried.” You say, completely missing the mischievous smirks of the two guys and the blush of Quinn’s cheeks.
Matt and Brock knew what was hidden in your shared apartment, but they would never dare give away even a hint that Quinn spent a small fortune on what’s sitting in a velvet box in a box of his taxes. He had to find a place you’d never look or stumble upon he defended himself when the boys burst out laughing at the ring being hidden with taxes.
“Anything for you.” Quinn says, kissing you, pulling away before the team starts chirping at him.
“Y/N! I need a pool partner, come on!” Eriksson Ek yells, waving at you to meet him over there.
“Excuse me gentlemen, I have some asses to kick.” You say, shooting back the rest of your drink before heading over to the table.
Hours had passed since your arrival at the pub. And most of the guys left, all saying good bye and giving you good wishes. You, Quinn, Brock and Matt remain, all seated at the bar. You giggle, not knowing what you were thinking trying to go shot for shot against men who were twice your size.
“What’s so funny?” Quinn asks, leaning back comfortably in the chair, his legs spread and a beer he’s been nursing for almost the entire night in his hand.
“I just can’t believe you love me enough to plan an entire day full of things.” You say, not wanting to get sappy, but the alcohol was flowing causing you to abandon all shame.
“Don’t you ever think I wouldn’t do this everyday if that’s what you wanted.” He states. “I love you Y/N.”
“I love you too Quinny.” You say, snuggling into him. “I think I’ve had a little to drink.” You say, sighing as you did.
Matt and Brock chuckle, waving for the bartender to close out.
“Do you want to get going?” Quinn asks, softening his voice as he does.
“Take me home Quinny.” You say, feeling strong arms wrap around you, hearing small ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good lucks’ from the remaining hockey players.
“You can sleep, I’ll get us home.”
“Thank you, if I didn’t say it enough today and tonight thank you.” You say, eyes closed as he buckles you into the passenger seat, hiccuping slightly.
You felt a kiss on your forehead, and heard a slight mumble but you were entirely too tired and entirely too drunk to process it. As you fall asleep in the car ride home, you have never felt more at home.
