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#nhl fanfiction
puckinghischier · 3 days
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Nervous
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack
summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day
notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌
[2.6k]
~
Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during nationals games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.
Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devil’s home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.
Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.
“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.
You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.
You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.
“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.
You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before Jack dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.
Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.
At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.
“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.
“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.
Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.
Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.
“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.
“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.
“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.
“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”
Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.
“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months now.
“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”
That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.
So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.
He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.
Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.
“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.
“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”
“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.
“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.
“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.
“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”
Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.
“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.
“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.
“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.
“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”
“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.
Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat dinner. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.
Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.
As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?
Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.
Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.
He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.
As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.
You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.
The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.
As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.
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misshoneyimhome · 5 hours
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can you write first time with jack hughes pls?? (fluff + smut) i love ur writing!!
Thank you, babe! And of course, I'm happy to give it a try 😉
I do sense that I'm gradually improving with these soft, smut stories, although I still have room to grow in this area 😅🤍
Moreover, I'm aware that I've done this kind of theme before, even featuring JH, but I hope it's still enjoyable to read 🌺
Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers, reader's first-time, virginity; 18+ smut, fingering, protected penetrative sex;
Word count; 4.5K
・✶ 。゚
The First Time | Jack Hughes 🖋️⚡️🌺
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"How's it goooing? 😏" "JACK! Stop texting! I'm in the middle of a date here..."
"I know, just wondering how it's going 😈" "Seriously, don't you have anything else to do! 🙄" "Nah, just chilling at home 😉 Why are you even replying? Shouldn't you be talking to him?" "Ugh, you’re so annoying right now... but no, he's on the phone with someone 🙄" "Isn't that like the third call tonight 🤔" "Just the fact that you've noticed says something about how this date's going... 😒" "Sorry that sucks y/n... thought things were going well between you two 😕 you seemed pretty into him" "Yeah, well, turns out it's a one-way street 🙃"
Tonight, marked your fourth date with Ben; a young professional from New York who'd taken a keen interest in you since bumping into you at the library, where he’d confidently asked you out, and you’d happily agreed.
It had been a simple encounter. Just two young adults navigating life in the big city. Yet, your connections across the water also often had you traveling back and forth between your home and Newark, especially because of one person.
Jack Hughes had probably become your closest friend, since he unexpectedly came into your life when you were dating one of his friends. However, when that relationship fizzled out, you surprisingly ended up forming a bond with Jack instead of being left out in the cold. 
You never quite understood what went down between your ex and Jack, as it seemed like they had a falling out or something. But frankly, you didn't care – you felt like you came out of the break-up on top with your friendship with Jack.
Despite his own hectic lifestyle, he was always there for you, even on the most personal levels. Already right from the start, when you first met in your friend group, and later as you spent more time together before your relationship with your ex started to crumble, you felt a certain connection.
Jack tried to support both of you through the breakup, but when push came to shove, he ended up siding with you, which turned out to be the best possible outcome for you. As the social and caring person he was, Jack became your pillar of support, your rock whenever you felt low or unsure of yourself.
And in return, you stood by him through thick and thin in his hockey career. As his dear friend, you were always there at his games, ready to cheer him up after a tough loss.
"Maybe Ben's just nervous 😉 and he's getting advice from his friend on how to talk to you" "Do guys actually do that? 😅" "Some of them do 😂"
At this point, you'd lost track of how long Ben had been out on the balcony, deep in conversation on the phone. You felt your heart starting to race as nerves as suspicions crept in about the date. Despite the initial connection you shared, something felt off. And when things felt off, they usually were.
Deep down, you had a gut feeling about why he was acting this way. It was the same reason your ex had given for breaking up with you, and why other guys you'd dated had lost interest, though it was never explicitly stated. Just mentioning it seemed to make them pull away.
"Alright I think he's heading back now 🤞🏼" "Fingers crossed, babe!" "Jack... you can’t pull off ‘babe’ 😂" "What do you mean by that 😅"
And unfortunately, the date ended just as you'd feared, as Ben returned from his balcony call and gently explained that he wasn't interested in continuing to date.
For a moment, you felt a pang of hurt, thinking he actually liked you. But as you'd mentally prepared for this outcome, the disappointment faded quickly, and you simply gave him a sweet smile before he left your studio apartment.
"I'm giving up, Jack... I don't think there's anyone out there for me!! 😫🥺" "What? He ended things?? Whyyy?" "You know why..." "HE SAID THAT?? I'm gonna beat his fucking ass..." "Well, he didn't say it outright... but let's face it, Jackie... no one wants to date a 22-year-old virgin..."
There it was. The truth you didn't want to admit, but somehow it kept getting confirmed: You were still a virgin.
Despite being in a few relationships, you'd never quite reached that point. And now you were convinced it was the main reason for your breakups. With your ex - Jack's friend - you just didn't feel ready, and though he never explicitly said it, you sensed his impatience. Then every time you dated someone new, when they hinted at wanting sex, you had to explain your situation. And then they all seemed to lose interest.
It was the same story every time.
"Want me to come over?" "You don't have to... it's late and you have training tomorrow 💓" "That doesn't matter! You do, and I want to make sure you're okay, so I'm on my way over" "Then why even ask? 🙃"
-
It didn't take long before Jack arrived at your place, and soon enough, the two of you were comfortably lounging on the sofa, each at opposite ends, facing each other under a blanket.
"What a jerk," Jack chuckled softly as he tried to console you after yet another dating disappointment.
You looked down at your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "I know... it's just..." You let out a deep sigh and glanced up at him. "I hate that it has to be such a big deal... I don't want it to be."
Jack seemed to grasp your frustrations. It wasn't that you lacked interest in men sexually; you just hadn't found the right person or the right moment to explore that aspect, and Jack understood that.
"They're all idiots, y/n/n... you deserve so much better! Don't let it get to you - you're amazing, and they're the ones missing out!"
His words were comforting, and you knew he wouldn't say them if he didn't mean it. But changing your mindset was easier said than done.
"I know, Jackie... I just - sometimes, I just want to get it over with, you know... so I wouldn't have to worry about it every time..."
"What? No, your first time shouldn't be something you just 'get over with,' y/n!" He responded quickly, prompting you to look directly at him.
"But why not?" you exclaimed, feeling defeated. "It's just sex - everyone's doing it all the time! With random people, whenever, wherever..." You tried to articulate your thoughts, but Jack was already quick with a response.
"Yes, but this is your first time... It's supposed to be a good experience and doing it with someone random just to get it over with probably won't be the best thing," Jack reasoned.
It was an odd discussion to be having with him. Were you really debating how, why, and with whom you should lose your virginity?
Letting out another sigh, you gave him a firm look. "Well, it's my body and my choice..." you spoke softly, earning an eye roll from the hockey player.
"Come on, y/n, don't be naive... It should be with someone who at least cares about you... Just, don't do anything stupid, alright."
"Oh, so now I'm stupid!" You retorted with a huff, crossing your arms defensively. "I think I can decide what I want for myself. Besides, it's not like you want to do it with me..."
As soon as the words slipped out, a rush of embarrassment washed over you. Though you knew it was just a joke, a small part of you felt a flutter at the thought. Yet you quickly brushed it off as ridiculous. That until Jack caught you off guard. 
"Says who?"
"What?"
You were taken aback. Did he really just say that?
"I said, who says I don't want to sleep with you?" He chuckled, sounding a bit mysterious, as if it were the most absurd question in the world.
"You - you want to - with me?" You almost stuttered, trying to process his words.
And Jack couldn't help but grin. "Of course, I mean, you're really hot and... I'm a bit more experienced... so."
The suggestion hung in the air as you contemplated it. Was this some kind of joke or bet?
"Jack... wouldn't that be weird? I mean, we're friends..."
"So?" Once again, he chuckled. "It's just an idea. Maybe it would be good for you to be with someone you know and who knows you. Someone you trust, who can make you feel comfortable."
And truth be told, it didn't sound half bad.
"Actually, I think it could be an interesting idea..." you admitted softly.
-
Jack didn't want to rush anything, as it was crucial to him that you felt comfortable with the pace.
However, as soon as you agreed to the idea, a surge of desire coursed through him. And when your lips met in a tender kiss, he felt a stirring sensation he hadn't anticipated.
Sure, he knew he liked you. But he hadn’t expected to be genuinely drawn to you like this. Yet perhaps, considering what was about to happen, it was a good thing that he felt the magnetism between you. 
You weren't just a casual hook-up. You were his close friend. And he was about to share an intimate moment with you for the first time, which he wanted it to be as close to perfect as possible.
Initially, he hesitated to proceed that evening, given the recent breakup and your likely vulnerability. However, as you talked it through, you expressed feeling in the mood, especially since you had hoped Ben might have been understanding and potentially your first time.
So, Jack agreed to it. Let's face it, he wasn't one to turn down sex, even if it was with you, his friend, and your first time. To him, it felt almost like a privilege, as he would be the one to make you feel amazing and ensure you had a good experience.
And as the two of you then slowly settled onto your bed, he made sure you always felt at ease.
He took his time kissing you deeply, allowing your mouths to explore each other as your hands tangled in his brown curly locks, feeling his naked chest against yours. He was almost painfully slow as he undressed you to your underwear, wanting to ensure it didn't feel rushed in any way. But as you grew closer and more engrossed in the moment, you found yourself becoming more intrigued and eager to discover how it truly felt.
And so far, it felt rather good.
Furthermore, you could tell that Jack was equally invested in the heat of the moment, his hand exploring your body as his lips remained locked with yours. Half lying next to you and half over you, clad only in his boxers, he was fully devoted and engaged. And while you, too, were half on your side, letting your leg wrap around his, both of you eager to pull each other closer.
It was in that very moment, you suddenly felt something you'd never experienced before; his hardness pressing against you.
You couldn't help but gasp as you felt how hard he was, realising that you were the cause of it. "Jack... you're... wow..."
And he couldn't suppress the grin at your slightly stunned remark. "Yeah, well, that's just what you do to me."
The moment was both tender and intense as Jack quickly resumed kissing you, but before long, he took the initiative to undress both of you completely. This was the first time you truly felt nervous in the moment. Despite feeling completely safe with Jack, you also felt exposed as your most intimate parts were suddenly bare to him.
"Try to relax..." he softly encouraged you, hovering over your body and engaging in yet another kiss. "Breathe slowly, and let me know if anything hurts..."
His voice was gentle and soothing, and you nodded gently to indicate your consent to proceed. But before fully engaging with you, Jack wanted to ensure your comfort and readiness for pleasure.
So, upon taking two of his long fingers into his mouth to moisten them slightly, he then slowly trailed them down between your bodies to find your core. He took his time, studying your face for any reaction, as you gasped lightly while his fingers met your sensitive flesh, tracing them up your moist folds. His eyes remained locked onto your face, and when he sensed you were comfortable with his touch, he carefully pressed a finger inside you.
"Oh..." you breathed softly, your eyes meeting his as you surrendered to his gentle touch.
"Does it feel good?" Jack asked with a soft smile, feeling your warmth and wetness as he slowly moved his finger in and out, delicately stimulating your walls.
"Mmm," you nodded, smiling as you felt the pleasure slowly building in your lower abdomen. And as Jack then gently pressed his second finger to join, you couldn't help but let out another gasp, feeling a slight stretch. "Oh, it's good," you moaned softly.
Jack felt a sense of pride as he watched the signs of pleasure play across your face. He had only taken a girl's virginity once before, and that was when he himself was inexperienced. But this time, he knew what he was doing, and he was determined to make it a memorable experience for you.
And as you moved your hands to his shoulders, your fingers lightly digging into his skin, he could tell he was eliciting a strong response from you. And he was right.
The way he moved his fingers in and out caused your walls to gently clench, the wetness making a sound with every gentle pump, as your mind spun with pleasure, your toes curling involuntarily and your breath growing erratic.
This must be what a pending orgasm felt like, you thought. You'd heard about it from your girlfriends, some more than others, but you'd never truly known what to expect. Yet here you were, squirming and panting as Jack pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling and scissoring, pushing you closer and closer to climax.
"Oh, Jack..." you murmured softly, urging him to increase his speed.
"Mmm... Do I make you feel good, baby?" he hummed seductively, growing more eager to push you to your peak, wanting to make you feel the incredible sensation of a high.
"Yes... yes..." you moaned louder and louder.
The feeling was intensifying, your vision blurring and your mind spinning. And as you dug your heels into the mattress, you finally let yourself surrender to the incredible sensation that was about to consume you.
"Jack... I think... I think I'm..." you cried out, not really sure how to express yourself. 
It was like a wave of pleasure coursing through your body, your eyes rolling back as you let go of all tension. Your nails marked his shoulders as you let out a loud moan, tightening your walls around his fingers as you were introduced to the new level of ecstasy.
"Oh, fuck..." you breathed out loudly as you slowly came down from the euphoric state, opening your eyes to meet Jack's satisfied grin.
"That felt good?" Jack asked, though he knew the answer already. Your moans spoke volumes, and the way your walls pulsed around his fingers confirmed it. So, as you then offered him a shy smile, he carefully withdrew his fingers from your core.
It had already been a wonderful experience, but you knew there was more to come. And Jack's hardness showed just as much anticipation.
"Y/n," he suddenly spoke, his voice low and tender. "Are you still sure about this?"
His concern was endearing, and it only made you smile and nod in confirmation. So, with that, Jack undressed himself completely, revealing his fully erect and proud manhood.
You gasped lightly at the sight, marvelling at how proud and eager he was, while a part of you wondered if it would fit. Yet you trusted Jack completely. He knew what he was doing, and you were more than comfortable letting him guide you.
And much to your comfort, he returned to the bed, hovering over you to share another deep kiss, melting away all the nervousness. Again, he took his time, letting your tongues dance as your fingers explored his hair, before breaking apart to let you catch your breath.
"The drawer," you softly spoke between deep breaths. "Condoms... are in the drawer."
You could almost feel the slight embarrassment as you admitted you'd been prepared for the potential outcome of the night - only the guy involved turned out to be different. But Jack only flashed a cheeky smile as he retrieved the small foil package and wrapped himself up, before returning to you in missionary position. Your hands settled on the back of his shoulders again, your legs spread wide and your heels digging into the mattress as you found a comfortable position.
"Just relax," he encouraged softly once more, before placing another kiss on your lips.
You then felt the tip of his member gently aligning with your entrance, and when Jack sensed you had your breath under control, he slowly and carefully pressed himself into you.
"Oooh..." you moaned as his cock stretched you further than his fingers had been able to. "Ffff, Jack."
Your voice cracked as he eased himself inside your warmth, stimulating your sensitive walls, while moans were cut off as you lost yourself in the sensation. It felt so fucking good.
"You're okay?" Jack inquired with a sly smile, though he didn’t need a verbal answer. Instead, you offered him another nod and a smile gracing your lips, and then he slowly pulled out his length before gently pushing back in, carefully finding a gentle rhythm for both of you to enjoy.
It was incredible. The feeling of Jack's cock massaging your insides felt nothing short of amazing. And as he rocked his hips in patient yet devoted motions, you couldn't find the words to describe the feeling.
Your breaths were incoherent, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he thrust slowly and passionately into you. While Jack, too, felt a surge of pleasure as your tight walls hugged his length.
"Oh shit, babe, you're so tight... Mmm, it feels so good around my dick," he muttered under his breath as your unintentional clenching brought you both closer to climax.
Jack wasn't usually one to finish quickly, but with his busy hockey schedule and lack of frequent releases, your tightness effortlessly made him see stars, causing the pleasurable rush to arrive sooner than anticipated.
His panting mirrored yours as he slowly picked up the pace, assuming your comfort and pleasure by your moans. Your heat was beyond wet, and it was growing increasingly difficult for him to hold back, while his fingers clenched into the sheets beneath you, his mind spinning as your moans harmonised.
"Oh Jack... Mmm..." you cried under your breath as his movements intensified, another orgasm slowly forming within your body. You had long given up on controlling your breathing, and as you curled your toes again, your cunt dripping with juices, you knew you were about to experience another rush of pleasure.
The room was incredibly hot, filled with the sounds of your moans mixing with Jack's steady thrusts and the faint squeaking of the mattress. But at this point, you didn't care if anyone else could hear you. All that mattered was how close you both were to reaching your peaks.
Jack tried his best to maintain a slow and romantic pace, occasionally returning to kiss you passionately, keeping his motions steady and deliberate. However, as the intensity increased with every moan and every thrust, and you both felt the incredible connection between your bodies, it was difficult to hold back. And soon, he found himself lost in the moment, thrusting with more fervour than intended while you became a heated mess beneath him.
"Oh my... I- I- I'm coming... Ja- Mmm..." It was almost too much for you to handle as Jack pushed you closer and closer to the edge again. And this time, it felt more intense than before. This time, you were sure you were about to experience the feeling so many women raved about.
With every thrust, your legs trembled, your mind spun, and your toes curled. Your nails left creative marks as Jack increased his speed once again, pounding harder and more intensely than before.
And not only did those actions push you closer to your peak, but Jack too felt his own climax approaching, causing him to squint his eyes and bite his lip.
"Oh yes... baby, mmmm come for me..." he urged in a deep grunt, his hips slamming harder against yours, his cock hitting you deep with every motion. "Fuck, come with me..."
And it didn't take anything else for him to push you over the edge, into the ecstatic high as the orgasm coursed through you, sending you into overdrive. Meanwhile, your tightness around his length had him following suit, letting out a deep groan as he released himself into the condom and panted deeply into the crook of your neck.
There was a long moment of silence, only the sounds of your heavy gasps as you both calmed from the intense pleasure. Jack remained in position for a little while longer, relishing the wonderful feeling you'd created in the heated moment. Meanwhile, you slowly opened your eyes only to be greeted with Jack's signature smile.
Everything felt like a dream. How amazing your body felt right now, how high your mind was after this, was so far from anything you'd been able to imagine. And as the two of you met in a tender gaze, you couldn't contain your light, satisfied chuckles.
"So..." Jack spoke huskily. "Did it feel alright?"
You could barely even reply, yet your body spoke loud enough on its own, while you flashed him an almost worn-out smile, and nodded again. "Definitely... Jack, it was amazing."
And that was only putting it mildly.
As you both rode out the orgasms, Jack slowly and carefully withdrew his member from your core, leaving you with a slight void sensation as he made his way to the bathroom to discard the condom. However, it didn’t take long before he returned, snuggling under the covers with you.
It was an amazing feeling to have Jack close to you, despite the heat you’d both generated from the sexual activity. Yet, it made you feel at ease and comfortable in his arms as he pulled you closer. And as the soft noise of the street sounded in the background, the two of you simply enjoyed the aftermath of your very first time having sex.
"Thank you," you softly spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as you couldn’t suppress a smile.
"You don’t have to thank me, y/n..." Jack chuckled, propping his head onto his elbow as he admired your face.
"Of course, I do, Jack. Seriously, you’ve made me feel so good! And now, I feel so much more comfortable about having sex... I mean, I can date without having to worry that guys won’t want to be with me because I’m a virgin," you spoke with confidence as you turned to your side and offered him a smile.
However, unbeknownst to you, your words pricked a little at Jack's emotions. "Wait, what?" he questioned, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.
“Well, now that I’m not a virgin anymore, hopefully it won’t scare the next guy away…” you remarked casually, unaware of the impact your statement had on Jack.
His stomach twisted slightly at your words. “Oh, yeah, right…” he replied, attempting to downplay his reaction as he shifted to lie on his back.
You then lifted yourself up, and a puzzled expression crossed your face. “Jack, what’s wrong?” you inquired, sensing his unease.
Releasing a deep sigh, Jack stared into space, before turning to look at you. “Come on, y/n, you know I’ve always had feelings for you…”
You were taken aback. “Again, what?”
“What do you mean what? That’s why y/ex/n and I don’t talk anymore - didn’t you know that?” Jack explained, hints of light frustration evident.
“Honestly, Jack... I had no idea what you’re talking about - did you really... argue over me?” you asked, incredulous at the revelation.
"Of course! When he told me he was going to break up with you because you said you weren’t ready to have sex and he didn’t want to wait, I told him I thought he was being by a complete dick head, I mean, you’re so amazing and if you want to wait, he shouldn’t pressure you into anything…”
Your silence spoke volumes as Jack recounted the details, assuming you were aware of the situation. Yet your perplexed expression mirrored your inner turmoil.
“Wait, you really didn’t know that?” Jack's own bewilderment surfaced, prompting a gentle shake of your head in response.
“N-no… I mean… I can’t believe you did that…” Your voice wavered as the weight of his confession settled between you.
In that moment, Jack realised he’d admitted something unexpected, something he never anticipated revealing to you. 
But it was all true. Your ex's betrayal, Jack's futile attempts to reason with him, and the ultimatum that ensued. And in the end, Jack chose to stand by you, drawn to your kindness and genuine nature.
“Yeah well…” Jack attempted to mask his vulnerability with a casual laugh, though his true feelings were already exposed. “I guess I just… like you, y/n/n,” he admitted, offering you a shy smile.
It took a few moments for the revelation to sink in. So, this wasn’t solely about sex? There was more depth to this connection, you realised. And as the true nature of the encounter dawned on you, your own emotions stirred within.
With a radiant smile gracing your lips, you closed the distance between you and Jack, sharing a tender, romantic kiss with the remarkable boy lying beside you.
“I like you too, Jack,” you confessed softly, your eyes brimming with joy as they locked with his in another sweet moment.
“Really?” he asked, a hint of surprise colouring his tone at the unexpected mutual admission.
“Mmm,” you nodded gently. “I guess I just didn’t realise it... maybe I didn’t want to admit it, thinking you wouldn’t be interested in me,” you confessed, baring your own deeper thoughts.
And as the two of you then shared your innermost desires, a new energy filled the room; one of genuine emotion and romantic connection.
Drawing himself up, Jack pressed his forehead against yours, a smile spreading across his face as he too savoured the sweetness of the moment.
“Well, then I hope that maybe I can also be your second time…”
Your stomach fluttered at his words.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you grinned. “On one condition though…”
“Anything?” Jack replied eagerly.
“Admit that the ‘babe’ thing still doesn’t work for you,” you teased, a playful chuckle escaping your lips.
"We'll see about that," Jack replied with a playful smirk, the hint of a challenge in his tone.
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puck-luck · 1 day
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let it slip | trevor zegras
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warnings: daddy kink. i said what i said. teasing, dirty talk, begging, embarrassment, orgasm denial to a certain extent, unprotected p in v sex, minimal choking, one sentence of overstimulation, potential use of "y/n" but i honestly forgot (i just reread this too, but i don't know if it uses y/n) pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader accidentally calls trevor "daddy" in bed and it doesn't go to shit! wc: 861
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Trevor was infuriating. You knew that before you started dating him, having known his friends for a good year before you two started going out. You’d hung out with Trevor’s group a couple of times and you knew well that he had a mouth on him. Normally, you were able to ignore his comments or use them to your advantage– but today, he was just teasing. He was running his mouth and holding you still on his cock, pulling out each time you tried to get him to move. Whether it was you grinding down, clenching, or pulling at Trevor’s shoulders and hair, it ended in the same result. He pulled out and, with an annoying smirk, waited for you to beg him to slide his cock back inside you. So really, you couldn’t help it when the word slipped out of your mouth.
“Daddy,” you complained when Trevor pulled his cock out of your pussy again. Then, when you realized what you said, you stilled. Your eyes went wide and you clamped your mouth shut, even bringing a hand up to cover your lips.
Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise for just a second before smoothing his expression. “Is that how you want this to be?” He asked, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. When you kept your mouth shut, still reeling from your inadvertent admission, Trevor shifted his hips forward and pressed into you, barely. “Baby,” he said quietly. “Say that again.”
You let out a whimper and shook your head, embarrassed that you had revealed this to him in the middle of sex and not in a better moment, where you could explain yourself. You could feel your cheeks burning with redness. “Trevor,” you said instead, and cringed at the way your voice broke.
Slowly, Trevor shook his head. “No,” he drawled. “No, baby, call me what you want to call me.” He begins to rock forward, slow and calculated, making sure you feel every inch of him. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles on it at the same pace, staring as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Come on, sweet girl. It’s okay. Let me be your daddy. Let me make you feel good. Let go.”
You cry out as he starts to snap his hips in a more brutal pace. He’s still staring, taking in every single minute change in your expression. He’s good with his cock and good with his fingers and he’s great with his words, and he knows that he just can’t let you come until you call him ‘daddy’ again. He lets your release build until he knows you’re about to snap and he stops, buried completely inside you.
“You want to come, babydoll?” Trevor asks, wiping the tear from the side of your eye that leaked out when he stopped moving.
“Please,” you plead. “Please, Trevor.”
He makes a disapproving noise and begins to pull out of you, but it’s unbearable. You lock your ankles at the small of his back and hug tightly around his neck and he lets you immobilize him. He could break free of you in an instant with that hockey strength he has, but he’s waiting for you to say the word that’s on the tip of your tongue with baited breath.
“Daddy,” you finally breathe out. “Please, make me come. I’m so close, please don’t take it away, I’ll do whatever you want.”
He snaps his hips forward and resumes fucking you like his life depends on it, reaching one of his hands up to your throat and resting it there. “Keep calling me that,” he tells you. “And I’ll let you come.”
You nearly shriek when he presses down on your throat. Every sense is heightened when he chokes you and his cock presses into you so, so deep with every thrust. You’re babbling, calling him by his new title practically every other word as the pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach.
Trevor presses his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his nose nudging yours with each thrust. “Come for daddy, baby. Show me how good you feel.”
As soon as you let go, you can feel him letting go as well. He spills inside of you with a deep groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You reach down between your bodies and feel the way he continues to slide in and out of you through his aftershocks. His come is leaking out of you with each pass of his hips and he just continues to fuck it back in. He doesn’t even pull out, just maneuvers so you’re laying on top of him on the bed.
“Daddy, huh?” Trevor asks quietly. “I like that.”
You bury your head in his neck this time, blushing and hiding. “‘S embarrassing.”
“Mm, I disagree,” Trevor hums. He slides a finger over your clit and you clench down on him due to the overstimulation. “That one little word has got you this worked up and makes me want to stay inside you all night long.”
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notes: finally, my darkest (not dark at all because i'm very comfortable with it) secret has been revealed! yes, readers, i've been a fan of the daddy kink all along. and you know who's daddy as fuck? TREVOR ZEGRAS. not much else to say. hoping everyone enjoyed. definitely nsfw. ....will be including the daddy kink in my works as often as i find necessary. maybe i can pavlov y'all into enjoying it too... hmm...
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pennylanefics · 1 day
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New Job - Jeremy Swayman
a/n: hello! this is my first time writing for hockey, so please be aware :) i am a baseball girlie through and through but thanks to tiktok i now have a new obsession and new crushes, which means new motivation to write :D
summary: refer to this request
word count: ~2.6k
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A new city, a new team, and a new opportunity. It was all so exciting, but that also came with stepping out of your comfort zone.
With your new position as a photographer for the Boston Bruins, you were being introduced to everyone on the team, every manager, every coach, a ton of people. However, you were a very shy person, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time; it’s why photography was perfect for you.
But it was all part of the job, to get to know the people you are photographing and allow them to trust you and feel comfortable around you, enough for them to smile for the camera and not ignore you. And you would be absolutely crazy if you turned this offer down, sports photography is your dream, and to be able to live it every day was wonderful.
This whole process was a regular occurrence for you, as you had bounced around a few teams, so it was nothing out of the ordinary, but things felt different this time around. When it was time to finally meet the team before practice one day, you sat near the entrance where players come in, with the other photographer who was “training” you, in a sense, and showing you around the arena and such.
Everyone was very nice and friendly, asking where you came from, how long you’ve been doing this, getting to know you a little bit better, it was great. But when Jeremy Swayman walked in, everything lit up. He was on his own, a black backpack on his back, a beanie covering his hair, but he had a huge smile on his face.
“Hello, hello!!” He begins to walk you and Cindy, the other photographer by your side. “You must be new.” He stops in front of you and reaches his hand out.
“I’m (Y/N), I’m the new additional photographer for the team,” you introduce yourself, shaking his hand. Both of you pause as your hands meet, taking notice of how warm and soft his skin is, gazing into his eyes as you do.
“I’m Jeremy, it’s nice to meet you. So you’ll be the one following us around with a phone and asking us questions as we walk into practice?” He teases, nudging your arm gently, feeling comfortable doing so.
“Uh, no, not exactly,” you chuckle, looking down at your camera. “I’ll be the one up in the rafters taking aeiral shots and be on the sidelines during games,.” His eyes widen in surprise as you describe part of your duties.
“Are you serious? That’s sick.” Since no one else was coming in right now, you took a moment to show him some of your popular photos with other teams, one of which being a shot from above after the Florida Panthers beat the Carolina Hurricanes, sending them to the Stanley Cup, confetti falling all around the rink, the team crowding together to celebrate.
“Wait, I saw this photo! The NHL posted it in like a photo dump they did of that week’s games. This is yours?”
“Yeah, all mine,” your face heats up a little at how excited he is. There was no denying it, Jeremy is a very handsome man, and you had to admit, when you got into photographing hockey, he was one of the first players that you had a small crush on.
“Well, you’re incredibly talented,” he compliments, sending you a wink while beginning to walk away. “See you around, (Y/N)!” He threw up a piece sign and was off to the locker room to get ready for practice.
“Jeremy’s the sunshine of the team, literally,” Cindy finally says, the last few players finally coming through the doors, both of you pausing to snap some candids.
“He is?”
“He always has a smile on his face and is almost always in a good mood. So if you need cheering up, he’s the one to go to.”
“Isn’t that unprofessional, though?”
“Not here. I’ve been with this team for years, they do things a little differently. They enjoy getting to know the media and those that work around them, becoming work friends and such. But if that’s uncomfortable for you, feel free to tell them, or me. I’ll put a stop to it.”
“No, no, it’s alright. It’s nice that they treat photographers and others not within the actual team like human beings,” a chuckle escapes you, deciding that keeping your mouth shut regarding how a team you previously worked for outside of the NHL was like.
Your first game went quite well, the Bruins ended up winning against the Colorado Avalanche, giving you the perfect opportunity to capture the iconic goalie hug between Jeremy and Linus. With your camera lined up, Jeremy comes into view and skates right to Linus, you snap photo after photo, not taking your finger off the shutter button.
After they skate off the ice, you smile to yourself, knowing you got some good ones. Finding Cindy in all the chaos of fans cheering and trying to leave, she guides you down the tunnel and back to the makeshift office that’s usually set up for the media.
She goes through all the steps of how to upload the photos for the editors, and even though all of it was pretty similar to other teams, it was nice having a refresher and getting to know their way of doing things. She describes the process of what is expected after games, setting everything up that you would need, and making sure you had everything and were ready to go for their next game in a couple days.
As time goes by, you start to get the hang of things with your new team. Everything was going smoother than you expected, you were quickly finding your place here, and it was all working out so well.
One night, after a rather tough loss to the Leafs, you sat in the media room, scrolling through the photos you took throughout the game, exhaustion setting in, the long day finally catching up with you. Suddenly, a soft knock sounds, your body turning around on instinct to find the source.
There stands Jeremy, a smile on his face, clean and dressed in his post-game clothes.
“How’d the photos come out?” 
He made a small habit of doing this. On his way out of the stadium after games, he would make a stop by your office, saying hi and asking if he could see some photos. You would always tell him that the raw photos aren’t going to be the best and there would be a ton to look through every time, but he didn’t care.
He claims to enjoy your company and the peace and quiet of the office after such intense games. But you were your normal self, not very talkative, doing your job as you would if he was not beside you, and oftentimes forgetting that he was even there.
“So, what’s your postgame routine? What do you like to do once you get home?” Jeremy asks as you pack your things up, carefully placing your camera in its protective bag. After shutting your laptop down, you slide it into the case, and then the case into your backpack.
“I sometimes get food on the way home, or I head straight home, shower, get ready for bed, and  then read or scroll on social media, depending on what I’m in the mood for,” you explain softly, gathering all of your things, wanting to head home.
“What kind of books do you like?” He was wanting to make conversation, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were far too burnt out from running around the arena, especially since you’ve been here since early in the morning.
“Mainly romance and fantasy,” you grin. Jeremy doesn’t seem deterred by your short response, but he can tell, just by your body language, that you’d like to get going.
“That’s a nice way to escape the world after days like this. Well, I’ll see you around, have a nice night,” he smiles and waves at you as he exits the room, leaving you on your own.
That’s how things continued for every game. You ended up telling Cindy one day, and she couldn’t help but laugh; since you were with the media team, you got to room together at hotels for away games. The team was in Seattle to play the Kraken, and since it was a late game, you didn’t need to be at the arena until closer to four.
That’s how the two of you ended up sharing experiences you’ve had with the team and specific players, and Cindy lands on none other than the brunette goalie.
“Sway has actually told me that he’s been sitting with you while you browse through the photos after games,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner. Your face heats up at her statement, and you hide your face in your hands.
“He, uh, he does. I told him it’s nothing special, but he insists it’s a nice way to decompress.”
“He told me that you’re quiet,” she says. You freeze and stare at her. Immediately, her eyes widen and she feels embarrassed. “Oh! No, no, I didn’t mean to make it sound like he said it in a bad way. But he…okay, don’t tell him I told you this, but he thinks it’s sweet. I promise. And, it is pretty cute.”
“What is?” You wonder. Your heart was racing with all of this, you didn’t think Jeremy thought of you in that way, but here you were.
“You know, the sunshine, golden retriever boyfriend and the black cat girlfriend. You’re grumpy, he’s sunshine.”
“I’m not grumpy,” you defend, crossing your arms. “Just…quiet.”
“Exactly. Jer really enjoys being with you, from what he’s told me. And he said you even let him edit some photos?” You chuckle softly and look down at your hands that relaxed in your lap.
“I let him edit some of him and Linus for fun. I didn’t send them off to the actual editors or social media team, I promise, it was a little-”
“I think you should,” she cuts you off, her eyes lighting up. “That would be such a neat idea, if we let the players edit photos of themselves and send them to the admins for their socials!” She starts going on and on about the idea and how it would be such a fun concept, if the players even want to participate.
“We’ll have to ask either during arrivals or on the plane tomorrow if they’d be up for it.”
She continues on, but your mind was on Jeremy, he thought you were charming and sweet, and that’s all you cared about.
After the game ends in another loss, right on time, Jeremy steps into your little makeshift office, and you were more than prepared for him this time.
“Am I allowed to see these shots tonight? Or should I wait until they’re posted in an article?” He wonders. You chuckle quietly and shake your head. He had mentioned to you the last time that he reads articles here and there just for the off chance that your photos are included. And you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your heart when he told you this.
“I got a pretty good one of you making a save in the first period,” you say, turning your laptop towards him to show him. His left leg was stretched out just as the puck makes contact with the padding, blocking it and shoving it away.
“Shit, who knew I’d look so good making saves,” he jokes, running a hand over his slightly damp hair, having showered already.
You laugh with him and turn the laptop back, remembering what you and Cindy talked about earlier in the day.
“I think I already know your answer for this, but Cindy and I were talking and she thinks it would be fun to get you and the guys to maybe edit some photos, like you did, but they would actually be posted. With credits for the editing, of course,” you tease. Just like Cindy, his eyes light up in amazement.
“Hell yes!” He immediately responds, scooting closer to you to look at any more photos he could edit. “Can I do like five? Because one was not enough, I wanna do more.” You can’t help but smile at his eagerness, allowing him to scroll through some of the better photos you’ve taken the past few games.
“You can do as many as you’d like but I can’t promise they’d all get posted. If you want to ask the guys if they’d be interested, I’ll have one person come in here after every game and edit, and then we’ll have a collection in a few weeks to post.”
“Uh, I think it would be a good idea, but…” he starts, but pauses his train of thought, his hand coming up to tug at his lip as he silently decides if he should continue.
“But…what?” You push, hoping he would just speak his mind.
“I like this being our thing,” he murmurs, shy, almost. He doesn’t meet your eyes, and this is a different side of Jeremy you haven’t seen before.
“What?” You are very lost with what he’s trying to say, but you give him time to explain himself.
“I like having this time with you, after games. It’s become a routine for me, something I look forward to, and I really love being in your presence, especially after tough games that end in losses. It’s like you reading fantasy books, it takes you out of reality, and for a time, I can forget that I took part in a loss for my team and take my mind away from it.”
“By looking at photos of said game?” You counteract. But Jeremy sees your point. How can he be taken away from a game his team lost when he’s actively looking at photos of them losing from the entire night?
“By…being around you,” he whispers, looking up at you. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire at this point. Was he being serious? “Spending time with you, everything else disappears. And I know that sounds cheesy and we don’t fully know each other aside from talking about your work and such, but, if you are up for it, I’d like to take you out on a real date.”
Now you were beyond confused, but thoroughly surprised in a good way. And by your reaction, or lack thereof, he must have assumed you weren’t interested, because he immediately deflects.
“Or, if you prefer we keep things professional, that’s totally okay. I understand you work for the team and it would complicate things, but-”
“I’d love to go on a date with you, Sway,” you reply, a small smile stretching on your face. He slowly grins and leans closer to you.
“Really?” He asks in disbelief.
“Yeah. I think you’re a very wonderful guy and I’d love to get to know you outside of this…informal and professional setting, let’s put it that way,” you laugh, turning towards him to let him know you were serious.
“Good. Because I think you’re very cute and I need more than these after-game meetings,” he replies, a bright smile on his face as well.
“So are you going to be upset if I ask the other guys to come in here and do the same, to edit photos?” You wonder, your voice dripping with a teasing tone. Jeremy laughs softly and leans over and kisses your cheek.
“As long as none of the meetings end the way this one did tonight, I’ll be alright.”
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midnightsnyx · 2 days
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“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?” With Arber!
I love this prompt 🩵 ty for the request & I hope you like it!! Tw just for reader being self conscious (which I also struggle with so this was interesting to write)
It wasn’t a secret that you were self conscious. You’d always struggled to see the true beauty in yourself and you knew that it bothered Arber. You spent far too much time on social media platforms, comparing yourself to other people. Instagram in particular was your biggest enemy. You knew that it wasn’t all real, but you still couldn’t help but let it get to you.
You’re scrolling through an influencers page when your phone is snatched out of your hands. You let your head fall back against the cushion to see Arber looking at the screen and frowning. He locks your phone and tosses it to the side before climbing over the sofa to sit next to you.
“You know, normal people would walk around furniture,” you tease, a small smile spreading across your face.
He grins at you, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”
“Arber.”
“I’m serious! I’ve never seen someone whose smile lights up the room,” he says but pauses, and then: “Well there’s one competitor.”
“Cole,” you say at the same time, before falling into a fit of laughter.
He smiles again, taking your left hand in his and rubbing his thumb against your ring finger.
“There’s no other smile I’d want to wake up to every morning.”
(7 months later, he’s kneeling in front of you, offering a ring and his heart and telling you the exact same thing)
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https://www.tumblr.com/thewritingofspencerrose/742414915935092736/ok-but-why-am-i-hooked-on-that-criminology-x-jack
Could you do a part 2 with Luke like when she gets back to the apartment
i love writing for Crim & Jack, and love this request! thank you and sorry for the delay, i hope you enjoy!
a reminder that all requests are open for any of the hockey or f1 boys i write for!
New York air. All I have dreamed of since being trapped in that God forsaken library.
That and being able to see Jack again. Feeling his arms around me, feeling his lips on mine. Just simply being around him and his smile.
But here I am, eyes staring at my feet, heels touching the pavement back home.
And I can't move a muscle. Until two hands are on my shoulders, giving me a tug.
"Dahlia, Kid, listen to my voice," It's Mica. "Just listen to the sound of my voice, of the hum of the plane, Isabelle's constant chatter," He chuckles after the last statement, but only once my eyes meet his, tearful but no longer lost in the depths of my mind.
He smiles, a one that only someone with the warmth of father could truly muster. 20 years my senior and 2 teenagers at home, his energy makes sense. His standing as our team leader is exactly where he's supposed to be.
"There you are. What had you so lost in thought?"
He knows the answer. It's our job to read people. But I do appreciate that he's asking, not reading.
"I don't want to bring this home to him."
Mica does me the good deed of at least pretending to look confused, even if he's not.
"To who Dahl?"
"Jack. It's different than usual. We see what the victims go through, we analyze what happened. I've never-"
"Had to be the victim," He supplies, face tight. "I know. You're a student, we shouldn't have sent you in there."
I am just a student. How did I get from a lecture hall to this?
"I've met Jack, you know?"
Now he's just trying to distract me, and it does work, his question making me chuckle quietly as Isabelle and Franny leave the plane, offering us small smiles as they go.
"I do know, I was the one to introduce you."
He's smiling now, whatever he's getting at is obviously working how he wanted it to.
"So you know I can say, with confidence, that you could never burden that boy like you think you're going to."
"I just- I try my best to not bring anything too scary home, you know? He's just such a positive guy and I don't want to dim that? And we have a kid-"
"You what?" His eyes are like saucers, and I'm realizing that even if I did finish my sentence he'd still be confused.
"His kid brother, Luke lives with us," I fix myself, his body relaxing. Poor father figure.
"Dahlia, I need you to listen to me, you are not a burden to him for going through something horrific, and he loves you enough to be positive for you both if you can't right now, okay? I could not tell you the number of times my wife was my sunlight when cases are hard and-"
"Crim!"
It's Luke's voice that cuts off Mica, panic etched into every fiber of the sound. His brother is next to him, and the lights of the airport reflect off of streaks left behind by tears.
My boys.
Mica's hand taps my shoulder twice, his typical good job pat on the back. "And those boys are your sunshine, hold on to that."
Nodding, I thank him with a smile, Jack nearly crashing into me with how hard he pulls me into his arms. His lips touch to the top of my head, the warmth I've been looking forward to from his body embracing me as his cologne does the same.
"Thank you for bringing her back safe," His eyes are trained on Mica, arms still wrapped tight and Luke standing to our side.
Mica just smiles. "Can't have my unofficial daughter dying on me," and it's meant as a joke, but Jack flinches. "Sorry, psychoanalyst humor. Have a good night all."
He's waved off, given soft goodbyes, and I can't help but glance up, eyes meeting the ones I love so much.
"As much as I love you, I think Luke might vibrate out of his skin if he's left to the side any longer."
The boy doesn't argue, just stands there, nearly frozen.
This was as hard on them as it was for me.
"Lu, come here," I wave over, him taking a singular gigantic step towards his brother and I pull him into our hug, doing my best to run my hand through his curls as I do when he's upset. It's a few moments later that I can feel the drops of something wet fall onto my shoulder, just at the crook of my neck.
"Oh Lu, please don't cry." His response is muffled by my shoulder the first time, his brother and I pulling back to encourage him up. "What was that?"
"You're not allowed to die."
It's a sob, red eyes, tears down his face, and effectively breaks my heart.
Jack's arm is still around my waist, holding me tight, and when I look up I notice tears have slipped down his cheeks as well.
Taking Luke's hands in mine, I run my fingers over his knuckles, the universal Hughes calming method.
"I promise to always come home."
A promise I can make but never guarantee.
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hockeyboysimagines · 2 days
Note
would you write #1 from the smut list with Jarvy? I need more of him on this app thanks☺️☺️
So happy I got a Seth request. He’s definitely underrated and if you like reading about him, might I interest you in the fic I have for him? I’ll link it here!
Enjoy🤍
Seth Jarvis was a tease. There was no other way to describe him at this point and he was killing you slowly and he knew it.
His accidental touches and dirty text messages over the last few hours, had finally boiled over the second he closed the car door.
This is how you and him had ended up tangled in the back of the Tiguan, windows fogged up, thankfully because you were parked in a public parking lot.
He was more touchy than normal tonight and what would have been a quick make out any other time, was turning into something else. He had your skirt pushed up around your hips and was attempting to yank down your underwear, and hold you upright at the same time. The backseat was spacious enough to make it possible but not comfortable.
“What-what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as he slid them down your legs and undid the button on his jeans. Your chest felt tight and your breath was coming out in gasps as you reached forward and gave the hair that hung down the back of his neck a small tug.
He grinned “I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”
You felt your cheeks redden and looked around. The parking lot was not empty, not even close and there were people walking around everywhere. The others were still inside and it would be mortifying is Svech came out looking for you guys and saw something he shouldn’t, but the idea of getting caught was kind of hot. Seth sometimes forgot he was an nhl player and just did things that normal people would get in trouble for, but taking a risk like this was a big one.
“Really? right here? you know people are going to see us...”
The cheekiest smile you’d ever seen spread across his face and he moved his jeans out of the way, patting his knee.
“Jump on babe.”
The sensation of him inside never ever got old, no matter what the situation was. It was chilly and cramped in the car, and you were almost positive you had thrown your back out and had a brush burn on your right knee, but he had one hand fisted in your hair and the other hand anchored on your hip as you moved up and down his length. His lips moved across your chest tongue wet and hot against your skin and you gave a little shiver
You knew people were shooting looks at the car, and they definitely knew what was going on in there, and you were thankful for the window tint and the condensation on the glass so they couldn’t see that it was Seth Jarvis in the car and not someone random.
“Seth I think people know we’re-“ you braced a hand on the window, fingers slipping against the wet glass.
“Let them look.” He said breathlessly “Let them see how beautiful my girl is.”
You didn’t have a chance to respond because he started thrusting harder and your vision went fuzzy as you got smacked with an earth shattering orgasm. Breathing heavily you leaned forward, forehead pressed against his.
“Okay that was pretty hot.” You whispered in his ear, lips grazing his skin. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he looked down between you, reaching for your underwear and handing them to you.
He smiled “Told you. Now let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops for indecent exposure.”
“Really? No round two in the car?”
He raised his eyebrows “Oh you wanna go again?”
“Just figured since we’re already here, and you’re into exhibitionism now apparently. No one will see us at home.”
He smiled slyly, and started the car “We can open the blinds”
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qrrieterisunnq · 2 days
Text
𝐑𝐄𝐙'𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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Hello my loves!! Welcome to 200 followers celebration!
I want to thank all of you for the support and love you spread here! When I first started writing here, I didn't know I'd reach this many followers only in a matter of a few months!
I'm so glad I'm able to be part of this amazing hockey community! The first month, I was here just for to read about Jack and Trevor. But I always loved writing, so I decided to write here! This is such a safe place for me and I hope even for you. I have a few changes I wanna do. Since I'm a plus-size girl and I know how the world is hard on us sometimes, I want to start writing some fics with plus-size!reader, so I hope you'll like them!
This celebration will be open in two days at 10AM EST on April 19 and will run for 96 hours (closing on April 22). You’ll find below all of the requests I'm accepting, and the players that I write for so please stick to them and only them. You can request as many as you want, there's no limit on it! I can’t wait to see what you all come up with. I love you all <33
players I write for: Jack Hughes, Luke Hughes, Quinn Hughes, Nico Hischier, Trevor Zergas, John Marino, Dawson Mercer
🎞 Choose a player and song and I'll write you a blurb based on it (Below the divider are 20 of my favorite songs for which I will write!)
🌷 Choose a player and situation and I'll make you a mood board based on it
💋 Let's play a game; kiss, marry, fuck - choose three players and I'll tell you who I'd kiss, marry or fuck and why
🌱 Let's get to know each other. Tell me something about you, and in return I'll tell you something about me
🍸 Ask me a question and I answer or write me some unpopular/popular opinion and I tell you what I think of it
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𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒
Keep driving
Grape Juice
Sweet creature
𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓
Bad blood
Cruel summer
You belong with me
𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐄
You broke me first
Guilty conscience
𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
Illusion
Night changes
Through the dark
𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐖
Loving on me
𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒
Just the way you are
Talking to the moon
𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒
Treat you better
𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑
Intentions
Yummy
Beauty and a beat
𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐀𝐘
Radio
Young and beautiful
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bluewxrld07 · 2 months
Text
Kiss Cam (Luke Hughes)
Luke Hughes x female!reader
Warning(s): slight makeup sesh, angst, major fluff, touching without consent, alludes to smut
Summary:In which Luke lets his anger get the best of him.
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“Mom I love you, but I have to finish getting ready for the game. We can talk more about it tomorrow.” Y/n sighs, applying mascara to her lashes. 
Her phone was on the bathroom counter with mom on speaker phone, mom currently blabbing about something that happened at work that she needed to rant over. “Oh, that’s right there’s a game tonight! Tell Luke and Jack goodluck for me, and I’ll let you go then. Love you!” Her mom’s sweet voice rings in.
Y/n responds back before ending the call, her music coming back on while she used her setting spray to set the rest of her face. 
Luke walks into the bathroom behind her a few moments later, setting his sweatshirt on the counter next to her puffer vest for her to wear. He stops and looks her up and down with a slight smirk on his lips. 
She wasn’t fully finished getting dressed, only wearing her flare leather pants and a bralette to prevent getting makeup on his clothes. Not that he would’ve minded that anyway, but he wasn’t going to complain about her current outfit. 
“What?” She chuckles putting her makeup away when catching his stare in the mirror. His eyes find hers as he walks up behind her with a hum, placing his hands around the front of her waist slowly trailing back and down to grab her ass. 
She squeaks at his hands, letting a laugh leave her mouth while his own kisses her collarbone a few times. “I like these pants.”
“Oh you do, do you?” an amused grin on her face. He hums with a nod. “Very much yes. You need to buy more.” 
Her eyes roll at his comment before she turns around in his grasp, his hands still going down to her ass when she faces him. Luke looks down at her, taking in the beauty of his girlfriend. She looks down at his lip before lifting herself up a little to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. 
Luke thought otherwise, humming out a no on her lips to prevent her from breaking away. She giggles at his comment, letting her hands trail up his chest and to the back of his neck and into his curls. 
Their lips moving in sync, his tongue finding hers as his hands roam her body. His touches and kisses making her whimper and moan into his mouth. 
His hands began to trail from her ass, up to her hips, then to her waist, until they were gripping her breasts. Luke letting his thumb graze over her nipples through the thin fabric. 
She breathes out a moan, her head falling back as he plays with them and his lips moving down to her jaw. “Lu,” she pants.
“Hm?”
“We are gonna be late.” She lets out another whimper when he bites down on her sweet spot just in the crevice of the crook of her neck. Y/n musters up the strength to grab his head from her neck, making him look up at her. 
His lips now swollen, eyes looking a little glazed over as he gives her a lovesick grin. She places one last soft kiss on his mouth before turning back around to grab his sweatshirt off the counter, putting it over her head.
"Why don't you just wear my jersey again?" he asks as he steps away to watch her in the mirror.
"Because I need to switch it up every so often," she says in a 'duh' tone. "Either way people will know I'm yours if that's your problem with it." she chuckles, watching him roll his eyes.
"Okay yes, but still. You can see my name on it in bigger letters than you can on my sweatshirt."
"The sweatshirt I'm wearing is a player only sweatshirt. Therefore nobody else but players own it, so I think that's pretty self-explanatory." she assures him as she sees his pout begin to form.
Once she puts the vest over her shoulders, she turns around to wrap her arms around his neck. He grabs her waist immediately, looking down at her with a knowing look. "You may be beautiful, but you're sometimes not the brightest." he jokes, earning a slap to the chest as she walks away after his comment. She slips on her heeled boots in the entryway while he slides on his dress shoes.
"Forensic Scientist means dumb to you? I don't think so baby." she shoots back, the boy just shaking his head with a playful scoff.
"Whatever you say, honey. Let's go," he sighs before tapping her bum as she opens the front door.
Once they arrived to the arena, Y/n says her 'hello's to the other players, and Jack of course, then gives Luke his good luck kiss before making her way to the lower bowl to find her seat.
She sets her food and drink down when she finds it, seeing she's in the second row from the glass and gets comfy as she waited for the game to start. Y/n watched as more and more fans began to pile in, some starting to take up spots around the ice to watch warmups.
The warmups probably had to be her favorite part. Getting to see the boys rev up for the game as well as interacting with fans, the younger kids especially. She sometimes would find herself overhearing conversations of parents with their little ones talking about how they will try hard to get puck from a player for them.
So some days she took matters into her own hands, signaled Luke, Jack or one of the other players she knew well to bring her a couple pucks to hand out to the little kiddos. The smiles and reactions on their faces always made her smile too, which is why she loved stepping in to help sometimes.
Before she knew it, the boys were out on the ice doing their routine, kids and other fans buzzing with excitement as they watched the players skate around the ice.
She smiles widely when she sees Luke spot her, the boy giving her a little wink as he stood at the blue line with Dawson. Her little moment with Luke was soon cut short when someone took their seat next to her and settled in, his stare never leaving her side profile.
Y/n slowly turned to look at the Devils fan, the boy looking around the same age as her. He had darker hair that poked out of his backwards hat, bright hazel eyes, chiseled jaw with a little stubble. He supported a Devils Jersey with an 86 on the back of it. He nods at her before speaking.
"Hey," he starts off. She smiles warmly. "Hello." she says before turning back to watching warmups.
Luke was busy doing his routine to notice the boy sitting next to his girlfriend, y/n adjusting herself due to feeling uncomfortable by his stare.
"I'm Micah." he introduces, y/n turning her head back to him with a smaller smile this time. "Nice to meet you Micah." she says in a soft voice, hoping that it sounded both nice and uninterested.
Micah leans towards her a little, making her smile falter a bit and look back at the boys on the ice for a minute. "And you are..?" he trails off, making her insides churn at his desperation.
"Um, I'm y/n," she says in a shorter tone. He nods with a toothy smile.
"Beautiful name for an absolutely gorgeous girl." he says, making her internally roll her eyes. She just nods at him and offers another warm smile. "Thank you."
She watches as he looks her up and down slowly, slowly biting his lip as his eyes find hers. "So what's a girl like you doing sitting here all by herself?" he asks.
"Oh, I'm not alone I'm-"
"It's okay, you don't have to lie and say your friends are coming. I'll take care of you," he winks at her, and places a hand on her thigh with a squeeze. He was making her stomach knot. "Please take your hand off my leg," she says firmly. She feels herself relax when his hand leaves her thigh, her chest feeling tight as he sat closer to her.
Instead of pushing the conversation she purses her lips and looks back at the boys on the ice, hoping to find her boyfriend and her muscles relax when she sees he's already staring at her.
Now many fans that paid attention to the Hughes brothers knew she and Luke were dating. It wasn't like they made it obvious, but they also weren't hiding it either.
His eyes going back between her and the guy next to her with a darker stare than she's used to. He can tell she's uncomfortable when his eyes find hers a second later, and skates closer towards where she's sitting.
Y/n watches as he skates past and gives her a small nod as if asking if she was okay, and nods back at him with a small smile on her lips.
Luke nods back one more time at her before turning back to finish his drills, his head turning back to stare at the guy sitting next to her one last time.
Y/n was happy the guy known as Micah let her be after that, hoping that he noticed she was uninterested and very much taken.
The lights dimmed as the boys left the ice, y/n sitting back in her chair and going onto her phone. Her phone soon buzzed as she began scrolling through Twitter, seeing it was a text from Luke.
from Lu <3
Do you want me to bring you one of my jerseys?
to Lu <3
I'll be okay. I can stand my ground, I promise
from Lu <3
Baby I really think you should take one of my jerseys
to Lu <3
Lu I will look like every other fan who has one here still. It wouldn't matter if I was wearing it or not.
read 6:36pm
Y/n rolled her eyes at his actions and no response, knowing he was frustrated by the situation at hand. She wouldn't be able to convince him any other way, him being the stubborn boy he was.
It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he just liked having people know she was his and his only. She would never stop that either, but she just wanted him to understand she can handle situations on her own most times.
Before she knew it, the game had started and that's also when Micah's voice started. He kept trying to talk to her more, explaining the game to her as if she had no idea what was going on. She wanted to move so badly, but knew that that wasn't going to happen.
Y/n just tried her best to act as uninterested as possible to his conversation, the boy obviously not getting the point as time went on.
It also appeared that Luke was getting more and more irritated by Micah's advances.
Y/n often caught him skating by their area and looking directly at the pair sitting next to one another, his expression each time darker and more pissed off than the last.
The one that caught her attention was when Luke looked directly at her, shook his head, rolled his eyes and made a swatting motion at her. It deeply annoyed her that he was getting mad at her when she was making it very clear she wanted nothing to do with the man next to her.
"That call right there is known as icing," Micah begins, leaning towards her and pushing a piece of her hair back. Y/n biting her lip and running a hand through her hair as he keeps his hand on her cheek. "It happens when-"
"Okay look. Micah, is it? Can you please stop explaining the game to me as if I don't get what's going on? I used to play myself, and have a boyfriend who plays it as well. So please just -- stop talking, and stop touching me." Y/n snaps, her facial expressions towards the boy looking like she was ready to bang her head against the wall.
Micah looked stunned for a few seconds, before he smirks and rolls his eyes with a scoff. "If you had a boyfriend, where is he at then?"
Of course that was the only thing he paid attention to. She scoffs at him and looks back to the game.
There was an intermission in between whistles, the ice crew coming to shovel off the ice. Y/n looks up and watches as a kiss cam comes on, happy couples one after the other doing funny or cute kisses.
She looks down at her phone while it goes, not really wanting to be at the game anymore with her boyfriend annoyed at her, and her being annoyed with the guy next to her.
That was until Micah was elbowing her a moment later, the girl looking at him with a scowl evident on her face and he smirks smugly while pointing to the screen. She looks up, and immediately wants to sink into a hole.
Micah and her were on the kiss cam screen.
Micah looks back at her and shrugs. "it's for the views," he says, and she shook her head.
Y/n looks up at the Jumbotron, doing a 'cut' signal with her hand while saying that Micah is not her boyfriend. She began to hold up her sweatshirt, pointing to the number 43 on the arm saying 'boyfriend'.
But before she could finish saying 'boyfriend' Micah tries grabbing her face in a bruising and harsh grasp to pull her in for a kiss. Y/n immediately pushes him away and smacks him hard across the face.
Before she can cuss him out, she hears a loud bang against the glass followed by yells and many fans gasping in shock. Y/n turns to the ice and sees Luke yelling at Micah with Jack and Nico holding him back as if Luke was about ready to break the glass to get to her.
"Get your fucking hands off my girl!" he screams at him. "You grab her like that again and I'll fuck you up, you got that! Get the fuck off of her!! Don't you dare touch her!" Luke continues to yell and cuss as the boys pull him back to the bench.
Luke looks at Y/n and points at her after. "That's why I fucking told you to wear my jersey dammit!" he yells to her, making her stomach drop to her ass out of embarrassment.
Her mouth drops at his reaction, seeing him yell to her once again. "Never fucking listens to me!"
Micah sitting there both in awe and shock by both getting cussed at by Luke Hughes and being smacked by the girl next to him.
Y/n is pushing her way past Micah who is still sitting there dumbfounded, some fans making comments to him saying how shitty it was for him to do what he did.
Y/n kept her head down as she climbed up the stairs, tears in her eyes. One of the security guards she knew very well immediately made her way up to her and pulled her into her arms as they walked.
"Let's get you out of the public eye, hm? Get you down into the tunnel?" she suggest, Y/n nods quietly as she wipes a tear.
When she makes her way to the tunnel she hears the buzzer, signaling the end of the second period. She tells the security guard to grab Jack for her as he walks back to the locker room, the older woman nodding before making her way down the hall.
As she waits for Jack, she manages to take in what just happened.
Micah tried forcing himself on her. Luke cussed him out and almost broke the glass to go after him. Luke yelled at her.
Luke embarrassed her.
Y/n didn't even realize she had tears falling until she saw them fall onto her boots.
"Y/n?" she hears, her head shooting up to see Jack making his way to her with concern on his face. He had his helmet off, stick still in his hand as he approached her.
"Hey," he said as he got to her, pulling her in for a hug first. She hugged him back tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. "You okay?"
She just shook her head as they pulled away. "I've never heard him talk to me like that. Ever. I'm so humiliated." she admits, shaking her head as she wipes her tears.
Jack looks at her with guilt and frustration. "I'm sorry I had no idea he would react like that," he says. "We knew he was bothered by the guy next to you because he wouldn't stop talking about it. But he kept assuring and saying he trusted you to take care of it. Of yourself. He kept saying he knew you could handle it. Next thing we knew he was jumping over the boards and skating towards where you sat. And then you can guess what happened next." he explains, making her nod.
"I just didn't think he would ever talk to me like that." she says in a whisper. "I didn't even know that that guy would grab my face like that." she stutters, letting out a choked sob.
"I should've just listened to Luke and wore his jersey." Y/n says, watching as Jack shook his head. "No don't say what you know would make my brother feel better. He's a piece of shit and a dickbag for saying and reacting how he did. You couldn't have known." Jack assures her, pulling her in for another hug, holding her for longer.
She sniffles and stays silent, Jack pulling away from her as he hears Dawson calling out to him signaling they're going back out in a few.
"I don't want to talk to him for a bit. But I can't go back out there. I don't even think I can show my face out there at all." Y/n explains, Jack nods in understanding.
"I'll make sure he steers clear of you for right now. I'll also be the last one out of the locker room, so I will let one of the trainers know to come grab you to get my keys. You can drive it back to the apartment." he says, making her shake her head and cross her arms.
"Jack are you sure? I can't take your car."
"Y/n/n yes you can. We live in the same complex. Worst case I can always catch a ride with one of the other boys if Luke is still being an ass, so I will be able to get home either way." Jack assures her, the girl contemplating for a minute, then nodding in agreement to his statement.
He kisses her forehead before heading back to the locker rooms, Y/n pulling herself together as she waits silently for one of the trainers. She sees and hears the guys cheering as they head out for the last period, music blaring in the stadium.
She spots one of the trainers walking towards her with a sweet smile, motioning for her to follow behind them to the locker room.
When they get to the entryway, the trainer stops and points to Jack's locker stall. "He said it should be in his suit jacket pocket on the left side." the trainer tells her, y/n nodding as she feels his keys.
As she was about to walk out of the locker room the trainer stops her once more. "Luke also told me to tell you that you can take his key. Since he knows you don't normally bring yours when you drive with him to games." they explain, Y/n feeling her heart clench at his name.
She slowly nods and walks over to her boyfriend's stall and grabbing his apartment key before following the trainer out and towards the garage.
She smiles softly at the trainer before thanking them, then unlocks Jack's car and gets inside.
On the drive home the car is silent, nothing being heard but the rain on the windshield. The radio off due to her not wanting to hear a single thing as she drove home.
The embarrassment she felt from the night was starting to creep up on her, making her just want to crawl up into a ball and live there for the rest of her life.
The facial expression she saw on his face was something she only ever saw when it came to him getting pissed off at another player in the ice, or when he was arguing with Jack. Never did she see it directed towards her. It made her insides burn, her chest feeling tight.
Most of all Y/n felt violated. She had never been grabbed or touched like that, and it scared her that a man would've been desperate enough in a situation to make a move like that guy did.
She let out a sigh as she parked Jack's car in his parking spot in the parking garage, locking it as she made her way up to her and Luke's shared apartment. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, keeping her head low as she made her way through the hallways.
When she saw her familiar doormat outside her apartment, Y/n felt her exhaustion hit. As she unlocked the door, she could hear the patters of the raindrops hitting the windows. The apartment only being illuminated by her golden sunset light in the living room, window cracked open to hear the thunder outside.
She shut the door, and took off her shoes. The tired girl's feet padded down the hall to their shared bedroom, going and taking a seat on their bed as she took a deep breath.
Her phone was buzzing, causing her to turn it over and see what it was.
Luke Hughes loses it over guy in the crowd!
Breaking: New Jersey Devils player, Luke Hughes, almost breaks glass to fight man in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend!
Devils player Luke Hughes screams at fan in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend. Soon starts screaming at girlfriend shortly after, causing absolute mayhem in the stands!
After seeing each title and tweet get worse and worse, she immediately puts her phone on Do Not Disturb and puts it face down on the nightstand.
Y/n began taking off her outfit, grabbing pjs and a towel before heading into the bathroom.
Y/n turned on the shower, loving how the warmth felt on her skin and closed her eyes as she stepped in.
Usually she had always taken a post game shower with Luke when they'd gotten home, but she couldn't even fathom to want to be in the same room as him after his outburst.
Sure she understood the one towards Micah, but she still thought she didn't deserve to get the backend of it too.
Y/n also knew that he probably felt like shit after how he acted, and was probably getting an absolute earful from the entire team, the coaches included.
She let the water soak up her scalp, taking a few deep breaths as she stood there. She didn't even know where her head was at. She was still so shocked of the events tonight, but also craved to have Luke holding her. Telling her she would be okay, and that he never meant any of it.
Y/n jumps and gasps when she feel hands slither around her waist, but relaxing when a familiar head of curls is seen in her side view as he hid his face in her neck for a few moments.
The girl fought with herself, wondering if she should just let it happen or push him away, not knowing which would be the better option.
That was until he propped his chin on her shoulder, sniffling a couple times. She stood there tense, staying quiet for a few moments.
"I don't even know where to start," he says, his voice rough. He squeezes her waist, her hands still staying crossed at her chest.
"Well I do know where to start. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, Y/n. I have no excuses for the way I spoke to you. You were trying to get him off you, and were clearly uninterested in general. Guy couldn't take a fucking hint," he chuckles bitterly. "In the end, I should not have yelled or screamed at you. You didn't deserve any of that. I can't imagine how embarrassed you felt after that. That's all completely my fault, I couldn't control myself after seeing how uncomfy he kept making you." he sniffles and pauses to press a kiss on her temple.
"I really can't believe I lost it on you. I have no regrets for losing it on that guy, but losing my shit on you I have every regret in the world. I would absolutely go back in time and prevent myself from doing that to you. Without a second thought." he finishes. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I am a dick, and I truly don't expect you to forgive me easily. I embarrassed you, and made it so hard for you to walk back into that arena without wanting to curl up in a ball. If you don't come to some my games for a bit, I get it. I don't blame you."
It's quiet for a few moments after that, Y/n taking that as Luke's speech being finished. She sighs and lets her body relax fully into his own, letting her hands trail down to where his hands are on her waist and wrap hers around his wrists softly.
She caresses the top of his hands with her thumbs. "You're a fucking asshole you know that?" she whispers, shaking her head as she looks down at their hands.
He nods against her shoulder. "More than an asshole honestly." he chuckles, making her muster up the smallest grin.
"You embarrassed me. You humiliated me in front of the entire arena, Luke," she starts. "I wouldn't have been as mad if it were just towards that guy. Yeah I still would've been annoyed, but it was when you started going after me. As if I had been letting it happen." she explains, Luke letting her speak.
"I tried everything in my power to make it known I was uninterested. I tried everything to make it known I didn't want him talking to me. I tried Lu," she says, her voice sounding defeated the last few words.
Luke just nods, saying he knows repeatedly. "Especially when he kept putting his hands on me, I kept telling him to stop and I kept saying no." Y/n says, her voice weak as her lips began to quiver. Luke pulls her in tighter, his heart aching and his anger rising at the guy. He had no right to touch her, and especially when she kept telling him to not touch her.
Luke couldn't imagine what was going through her head during then. It made him feel even worse after hearing how defeated she. sounded.
"Then when he grabbed my face, I felt so violated. Like I couldn't even win even when I kept saying no," she sniffled. "Then when you yelled at me like that, it made me feel like you didn't even care that I was trying my hardest to not let him touch me. When it was so clear I didn't want him to."
Luke raised his head from her shoulder, placing his hands on her hips to turn her so she was facing him. "Look at me." he says softly to her, seeing as she shook her head and kept it staring down at her hands.
He watched as she began to nervously pick ta her fingertips, something she did from anxiety, which made his hands leave her sides and lace his fingers between him own to prevent her from doing so.
"Y/n, baby, look at me." he says, his voice softer than the first time. Y/n mustered the strength to look into his eyes for the first time that evening, seeing his were incredibly bloodshot and swollen.
"Oh Lu," she sighs as she sees his face. He shook his head. "Don't worry about me." he says. "I want you to know that no matter what, I will always care for you. Even when it's so much it seems annoying, I will still be there by your side protecting and caring about you. I care more about you than I do myself." he assures her, making her lips quiver.
"You need to care about yourself too, Luke. Don't beat yourself up when you can't help me with a situation. You have to trust that I can handle it most times on my own." she explains, Luke nodding in agreement with her.
"I get that you were mad and that you were wanting to do anything you could to get to me in that moment, but taking it out on me when you know I'm trying is not the way to go."
Luke puts his head down, nodding once more. "I know. And I'm never going to stop apologizing to you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take it all back. I'm so sorry, Y/n/n."
She puts her hands on his cheeks. "I know. But you can't take it back, no matter how much to wish you could. Just learn from it, and move forward. Yeah this was a major bump we will work on fixing, but that is the thing. It's not just going to be you, it's gonna be us." she assures him, watching his eyes find hers again.
"You won't be going through this alone. Yeah I'm hurt. Yeah I'm embarrassed. But that's not gonna stop me from loving you and helping you. We will work on it together, okay?" Y/n caresses his cheeks, watching as he nods.
"I love you. So much. So so much, Y/n. I'm so sorry."
Y/n gives him a smile and nods, leaning her forehead against his own. "I love you too, baby. I know."
He presses his lips on her own cautiously, Y/n feeling his actions. In which she lets her hands find the back of his head and pull him closer to her to make their kiss more passionate.
He hums as their lips move in sync, letting her lead it as he wraps his arms around her figure.
Luke breaks the kiss after a few moments. "Let me start making it up to you right now, yeah?" he pants, and she nods.
"I'm all yours."
That's all Luke needs to hear before he begins his apology to her. Showing her how sorry he is in many different ways.
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chewingcyanide · 2 months
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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣. 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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₊⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.
₊⊹ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —all the angst, jealousy, thoughts of inferiority, cursing, big sadness from reader over here, not proofread i got better things to do
₊⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — jack hughes x fem!reader
₊⊹ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — my valentine’s day jhughes special (albeit a day late ☹️), as promised! sorry it took me so long. couldn’t figure out how to end it. this is unapologetically self-indulgent. also not a wip, but i HAD to do it to em. i’m sorry if your name is brooke or bianca. i love you. promise. maybe we’ll make a part two, if yall like it enough!
₊⊹ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — @dancerbailey3, @bellstwd, @kashee-h, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @brucewaynegfreal, @love4dlr, @jackhughesily, @leavethemonsteralive, @loveforaugust, @43hughes, @nathandoe, @choppedlamphandscowboy, @bunting58, @angelayse, @ru-kru, @sleepretreat, @nonsensical-nonsence, @maih23 (if your name is white, i couldn’t tag you!)
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Everyone knows the saying you never know what you have until you lose it. Truth was, you knew exactly what you had—you’d just never imagined you’d lose it.
You never imagined you’d lose him.
A shared childhood and mothers’ who found friendship with each other had brought you and Jack Hughes together, kept you glued even as skin stretched and futures diverged—where he’d gone on to be a star hockey player, you’d quietly came into adulthood, trekking through the difficulties of college.
In your younger years, Jack had always been there. Life of the party, a mirrorball everyone gravitated to for its decadent shine—you, contrastingly, felt like a sore thumb at parties, attending them only to see the smile on Jack’s face. Differing personalities and life routes aside, Jack was your person. The first person you called whenever you were sad, or happy, or bored. The one who knew all of your test scores first, who took hours long flights just to visit you during breaks in the season.
Distance nor time had left a lasting mark on your friendship, kept together by constant phone calls and texts. Whilst you remained imbedded in the hustle of Toronto, Jack was trapped in New Jersey—a gap that you closed every summer, when mutual desire to see one another (as well as his brothers) brought you and him to Michigan for a few months.
From childhood, to high school, to now—it had always been you two. Jokes passed in the years, swirling around with assumptions of the two of you ending up together, finally realizing it after years of proclaimed friendship. For Jack, it’d never been romantic. Loving and caring, a relationship he’d never trade for the world, but the intimacy ended there. Memories of him outwardly flirting with girls in front of you at bars or parties flashed in your mind any time you figured maybe; he’d never given any indicator that you were or would ever be more to him than his best friend.
For you? It was an embarrassingly different story.
College had stolen much of your time—left none for a love life. But truthfully, that didn’t much phase you.
Hookups, flings, boyfriends—all of them paled in comparison to Jack. A childhood crush perpetuated by maturation without loss of contact, Jack had just… always been there. Always a best friend, never a lover; the hanging axe of rejection was too dire a outcome for you to ever consider telling him. Killing a friendship you’d grown with would kill you. And maybe he felt the same way, maybe the kisses he reserved for the crown of your head and the guiding hand he kept on the small of your back meant something, but you couldn’t continue existing if they didn’t.
So, a dutiful friend, you kept quiet, spared the connection and suffered in unrequited love.
And it hadn’t really changed until Jack had gotten a girlfriend. In all your years of knowing him, he’d had a few—though they rarely lasted more than a handful of months, and a selfish and bitter part of you liked that. Sometimes they overstepped, viewed themselves above you in the ranking of Jack’s life; he made painfully clear they never would be.
And it felt good, to be that cherished. But then you remembered he didn’t actually love you and it felt a whole lot less impactful.
Not Brooke.
Brooke, a box-dye blonde with a less-than-stellar reaction to your friendship with her boyfriend, was unarguably beautiful—unapproachably so, someone you’d picture whenever thinking of the girl Jack would end up with. You knew it would never be you, but you hated that it was her, hated that it was finally cemented, the coffin wheeled out.
A friendship you’d cherished for years had been weathered down by the abrasive actions of his girlfriend. It left a bitter taste in your mouth; Jack never seemed privy to Brooke’s nonverbal dislike of you, and you never made comment of it. If Jack was happy, what did it matter? If you said anything, all you’d appear to be was a child throwing a tantrum, the attention torn from them. You refused to jeopardize Jack’s happiness, even if it meant shredding your own.
Brooke tolerated you; that was the best word you could think of. There was surely no excess of love, but you didn’t think she flat out despised you, either. Passive aggressive to the point of just being aggressive, snide looks whenever she didn’t think you could see, intentionally separating you from Jack whenever the two of you were talking—it all made you hate being around her, and by extension, him.
So when he’d invited you to dinner with him—and some of his teammates, a monthly ritual at his house—the knee jerk reaction had been to decline, lie, run while you were still free from the piercing glare of Brooke; because you knew she’d be there, clung to his side, as if you had any intention of taking him away.
… Well, you’d did have the intention. Never the will, so then again maybe she was right to hate you. Feelings you’d never act on, words you’d never say—none of it mattered. She had him. Not you. Never you.
You should’ve said no.
Pouting eyes and pleading lips caved you. As soon as you’d agreed, you’d regretted it—knew in your bones it would only serve to wedge the knife in your heart deeper, solidify the loss of a what you thought would be a lifelong partnership. Your platonic soulmate, twin flame pinched out by hateful fingers.
Getting ready for the dinner felt like preparing for a cage fight, where all night you’d have do endure blow after blow—them kissing, them touching, him loving her in a way you wished he’d love you.
Night blanketed the sky by the time you’d arrived to Jack’s home, shadows slipping by the window, shapes of people telling you that you were likely late—the stone in your stomach had slowed you monumentally. The torture was self-inflicted, you knew. There would be no pity when your heart finally gave out.
She did this to herself, they’d say. Hearts can only endure so much before they break.
Voices coalesced into one as you pushed open the door, welcomed by the familiar atmosphere of friendship and loud laughter. You’d completely forgotten to text Jack that you’d gotten here—and for some reason, as you crossed the threshold into the gaping space of his living room, you felt like an outsider. Sudden eyes landed on you like bullets, and all you saw was Jack—his side taken dutifully by Brooke, always beautiful, striking in a way you didn’t think you’d ever been.
Looking at her, it made sense why she was the one Jack chose. Why you hadn’t been. A best friend. Childhood acquaintance. Faded t-shirt he’d strung along for too many years, even as the design weathered away and the fabric weakened. He’d gotten a shiny new one, the novelty still in tact, yet he hadn’t let you go.
Some part of you, deep in the caves of your wounded heart, wished Brooke would ban him from your presence. Maybe then your hurt would lessen. You knew you’d never be able to let go on your own.
Jack’s eyes caught you, stood awkwardly in the mouth of the hallway. He attempted to stand, only for Brooke to tug him down by his t-shirt—the shirt you’d bought him for his birthday last year, impressed with two hearts holding hands. She said something to him, something low and hissed between clenched teeth. Before you could see his reaction, Nico was invading your space, arms winding around you.
“There she is!” he announced, the ground leaving your feet as he lifted you playfully. “We were waiting on you to eat. Sure do like to take your time.”
Residual bitterness faded at Nico’s words—Jack may have been your best friend, but years of being attached to him introduced you to his teammates; they were always kind, if a little overbearing. A big brother that toed the line of overprotective and well-wishing.
Grateful for the attention distractor, you allowed your shoulders to relax and lungs to decompress. The first cut at seeing Jack, still happily in love with Brooke, was already dealt; you just needed to get through the dinner, and not look like a hostage while doing so.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, shoving Nico’s shoulder as he brought you towards where the others were gathered in the living room. “Make fun of me for driving like a grandma all you want, at least I’m safe.”
Not looking at Jack took more self control than you’d care to admit. Blurring in your peripheral, a mess of colors stacked atop one another, you knew if you glanced—saw the claim Brooke was staking for all to see—it would only make you want to leave. So you didn’t.
Luke was next to greet you, offering a pity-imbued smile. Despite never mentioning your affections for his older brother, you knew he knew; saw it in the way he would look at you, the frowns offered. In times when Brooke inadvertently talked you down, it was Luke who told her off, put balm on the wound.
A side hug and a soft smile—you barely were able to muster one yourself. “How have classes been?”
You graced Luke with an exasperated groan. “Terrible, thanks for reminding me. Economics is kicking my ass.”
Luke sat. You remained standing. A loose thread peeking from your sweatshirt seemed far more intriguing than eyes you were trying desperately not to meet.
“Tough luck,” remarked Luke, conversations reviving after the novelty of your arrival wore off. You recognized a couple of faces around you—Dawson, Jesper, Alexander, and John. Faces you’d become acquainted with in your years of being Jack’s friend.
The title felt a bitter reminder of your ceiling, never surpassing Jack’s best friend. Loved and cherished, a desired presence, just not how you wanted. Who were you to complain? It was better to be his friend than nothing at all; to have a little piece of him, proof that at one point, you’d mattered enough to get it.
You just weren’t sure if you did anymore.
Where once Jack’s name was a regular occurrence, flashing on your phone screen—texts, calls, FaceTimes, they all faded once Brooke came into his life. Movie nights on his couch, reruns of old films that you could quote down to the last line, stopped. You knew Jack cared enough to extend invites, but at this point, you figured it was more out of pity and shame than actual want of your company.
Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.
Eventually, everyone made their way into the dining room. Chairs lined a large wooden table, one chosen and haphazardly assembled by you and Jack when he’d first bought this house. Scratches imbedded in the finish sent flashes of dropped hammers and clumsy feet into your mind, memories that felt too far to touch.
Mind far afield, you sat down—somewhere between Luke and Nico, far enough from Jack to be inconspicuous but close enough to feel the sharp burn of his eyes. It was petty, you knew, to have still not greeted him. Not that Brooke would’ve likely even let you. A sadistic part of you wanted him to feel even a modicum of the agony that rattled you whenever you were forced to watch him and Brooke, wanted to wonder and question why you were so cold.
Then again, maybe he didn’t care.
Body detached from your mind, the last thing you expected was to be spoken to—least of all by Brooke. But there her grating voice was, verging on overuse, but you knew that was just how she talked. Chafing and annoying and awful—
“Still no boyfriend?” A venomous smile curled her lips; friendly to the untrained eye. You knew better.
Your fingers twitched. The food in front of you spoiled, appetite evaporated. Of course she asked that—both a jab and a reassurance; if you had a boyfriend, her relationship with Jack would be safe. Not that it wasn’t, regardless.
You wished you could scream at her, leap across the table and force her to hear your words: you’d never have Jack. Want him, yes. Spend years pining over a boy who looked to you like the sister he never had, absolutely. But actually have him, feel his love in every touch and kiss? No. That wasn’t on the cards for you; you’d folded long ago.
“Nope,” you drawled. The pressure of Jack’s stare caved you—you caught his eyes, eyebrows creased, the wrinkle of his forehead that made itself prominent whenever he was annoyed.
What did he possibly have to be annoyed about?
Catching Luke’s gaze only irked you further, alit the urge to push out of your chair and flee Jack’s home. Pity swelled in his eyes, the beginnings of a frown quirking down his lips. You didn’t want pity; didn’t want to feel like the entire world was in on some inside joke you’d never understand. Everyone saw it, your love for Jack. Saw the lovestruck comedy that was your life—girl loves boy, boy isn’t even aware of it, hilarity ensues.
Everyone but Jack. And honestly, that was for the best.
You didn’t think you’d be able to handle the frown when he found out. Jack Hughes, always kind, never malignant, searching for a way to politely turn down his best friend without taking an axe to the connection. Really, there would be no bloodless way to let it die—so you lived in moments between, where nothing felt impactful or important or real.
When Jack was without Brooke, you could almost imagine he was your Jack—the one who turned down every girl so that he’d be free to go to prom with you, the one who got banned from a restaurant for life for pouring a drink over your cheating ex-boyfriend’s head. The Jack who always protected you, always cared, even when all of his friends couldn’t understand it.
That Jack who currently hand his arm around the back of Brooke’s chair, shoulders touching—a casual thing, something you’d done with countless strangers, yet it felt impactful enough to make bile swim in your throat.
“Probably for the best,” Luke interjected after the conversation—if it even was that—between you and Brooke came to an awkward stalemate. “Guys are dicks.”
A tension somehow always existed whenever you were in a room with Brooke. One you never wanted, never fed into. Like a shadow, the morning mist, it hung thick as smog. Choking you, nearly forcing you from the room.
“You’re a guy,” you laughed weakly, offering Luke a pointed look.
“No one at college, then?” Nico piped up. You felt bad for not looking at him, but he was too close to Jack and Brooke—you didn’t want to see them.
Cozy, warm in a way you thought only you’d ever be with Jack. Familiar, united. Their relationship didn’t seem as superficial as his past ones had, woven together under the pretense of good sex and no real connection. Watching Jack love his new, perfect girlfriend made you physically ill; and maybe that was dramatic, maybe it made you a backwards person with failing morals—you couldn’t care anymore.
Years of hiding your love, months of watching his own be poured into a girl that wanted you out of his life—it wore you down to your bones, dangerously close to burning to ash.
“Most of them are… strange, to say the least,” you responded with a wince. And that was true; your major seemed to just attract men whose one quality was making women uncomfortable. “Plus, having a boyfriend would just distract me. Finals are coming up and I’m already worried about how I’m going to do on them.”
Luke scoffed. “Hookups exist.”
A wince followed Luke’s words. Eyes fell to where Jessica was rubbing her hand—Jack apologized, albeit half-heartedly. Confusion overcame you; had he squeezed her hand too tightly?
In the past, you’d had boyfriends. Not that they lasted very long. Somehow, there was always something wrong with them—something only Jack could see; he’d endlessly nitpick, nag, explain why your newest boyfriend wasn’t good enough for you.
They were too old, too uptight, not nice enough. Always something. And without fail, Jack was right—scarcely did they make it past the first date before some measly excuse fell from their lips. But maybe it wasn’t them; maybe it was you. So, with an aching heart refusing to connect with any other but Jack’s, you gave up. Delved headfirst into college work and stayed below the waves, even as they began to drown you.
All you offered in response to Luke was a shrug.
Conversation picked up then, thankfully fell away from you. Limelight sufficiently dimmed, you allowed yourself to watch Jack; a habit you’d never quite shaken, even in the embarrassing moments when he caught your peering gaze.
You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen in love with Jack—just that you had, and now you couldn’t touch the bottom of him. Water filled your lungs, suffocated you, but if drowning meant being near him, you’d happily do it. Dying in his platonic embrace seemed better than dying all alone.
Ruffled brown hair, the sort of charm that every boy-next-door seemed to possess, and clear blue eyes that shone every emotion like a transparent window to his soul—all of it made Jack Jack, the boy you loved, would admire even in moments he didn’t think he deserved reverence.
You’d seen it all: the self-deprecation after his failure of a rookie year, dwindling confidence, tears imbued with hurt and disappointment, frustration of someone who knew they were better. It was you who’d been by his side, proved an anchor to a person you couldn’t live without.
Yet he’d still chosen Brooke.
For most people, that would be the last step off the cliff, boneless body breaking against the canyon. Not you—so full of hope and dreams, undeterred by every sign the universe gave you. You weren’t his only, but at least you were one.
Jack’s lips parted into a smile, one you could tell was real—his kissed Brooke’s temple, pinched her on the side. An intimate moment in a crowded room. You felt almost as if you were trespassing, a stranger watching two people in love. Part of you didn’t even associate that boy as Jack, because you couldn’t understand how he could love someone so averse to you, so… mean. But then again, it wasn’t about you.
It was about him. Accommodations had been made for years—leaving parties early because you were uncomfortable, blowing off his guy friends to comfort you after a bad date, scrapping his wants and his plans because of something to do with you.
He was probably sick of it. Sick of you, dictating what he could and couldn’t do. Who he could and couldn’t date. Because who cared if Brooke hated you; Jack loved her, despite it all. And that was what made dread swirl into a storm in your heart, ribs nearly cracking under the rate it was thundering at.
Abruptly, you stood. Felt the chair nearly topple. Eyes came to you—Jack’s friends. Yours, yes, but Jack’s foremost. You were just intruding, butting into a life that no longer fit you. Time had passed, the wishful minds of children grown into adulthood. He didn’t owe you anything anymore, especially when all you were was a storm cloud over his parade.
Just as soon as you had, Jack stood, concern clear in his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Your tongue felt like lead. “Nothing—nothing, sorry. I’m—I need to use the restroom.”
You didn’t wait much longer before leaving the room.
Air felt scarce, lungs punctured and deflating quicker than you could patch the holes. Clumsily, you pushed open the door to the bathroom, steadied your shaking hands on the edge of the sink. Looking at yourself, reflection marred by the onset of tears, all you could do was compare—compare to Brooke, to every girl Jack had ever wanted, ever liked, ever loved.
Was it their features, doughy lips that worshipped him in a way you didn’t? Was it their bodies, womanly and free in a way you didn’t like to be? Or was it deeper, were their souls crafted from the same light, in a way you’d always thought your own had been with Jack’s?
Idiot, fool, dreamer—you were all of it. Like a lap dog, bird in its teeth, you always returned, remained dutifully at Jack’s side for the moment he might open the screen door and finally let you in.
Brooke had every right to hate you. Perceptive in a way Jack wasn’t, she saw what everyone else did—the lovesick eyes, foolish faith chaining you to him, an unrealized desire that would never be acted on. Had you been in Brooke’s place, you would’ve hated yourself as well.
Water poured from the faucet, gathered in your cupped palms. Attempting to desecrate any evidence of tears, you gently splashed the water in your face—went to dry it when you heard the sound of the front door creaking open.
“Oh, thank God you’re here, Bee.”
Cold crept up your spine. Eavesdropping was wrong—you knew that, yet still found yourself leaning against the bathroom door to catch Brooke’s words.
“What’s going on?” came the response, likely the voice of Bianca, Brooke’s best friend. You’d met her once at a game (met was a loose word; she’d given you a snide look and taken to ignoring you the entire time).
Brooke’s voice lowered to the point where you were forced to strain to hear her speak. “You know Jack’s little pet?”
A lapse. Your heart seized, taken by some concoction of shame and surprise.
“No.”
“Yes!” responded Brooke. “She’s fucking everywhere. I asked Jack not to invite her tonight, and lo and behold—”
“Wait, I thought you talked to Jack?”
“I did.” Vexation laced every letter. “I told him it made me uncomfortable how close they were, how she was always around, blah blah. He got defensive, but he said he’d talk to her.”
“Clearly not,” Bianca muttered. “Look, I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re childhood friends, yeah? He probably feels like he has to stay her friend, or something. I mean, Jack’s a good guy, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone; if he dropped her, he’d look like a douche. I’m sure she’ll get the hint eventually.”
Footsteps began, voices fading along with them. “I fucking hope. It’s honestly pathetic.”
Blood roared in your ears, drowned out the sound of your beating heart—if it was even beating anymore. Something bitter and hot invaded your airways, lashed like whips against your flesh. It was no secret Brooke disliked you, disliked the closeness of you and Jack, but to hear it, the vicious way it fell from her lips—it made your gut twist and constrict, pushing bile towards your throat.
Pathetic. They thought you were pathetic, hopelessly waiting, like a dead plant praying for flowers that would never come. Lovelorn, seeking affection that only came by way of friendship and never more; they were right, and it became evident with a strike of lightning to your body.
Is that truly how Jack felt? Was he waiting for you to give up, so to spare you the hurt of being let down? Had you become baggage? Chained to him, the memory of childhood the only thing keeping you relevant, when times were less impactful and his life didn’t center around being a professional athlete. The stain of youth, remaining only for its joyful memory; that’s all you were now—a memory.
Just like your love, it seemed everyone saw Jack’s hints but you. Rose-colored lenses blurred everything but what you wished to see; of course you missed them, ignored them so your narrative remained intact.
God, you were an idiot. A fucking idiot.
Head pounding, the squeeze of an oncoming migraine rattling your brain, you opened the bathroom door. Felt like a trapped bird all the way back to the table—you just had to get through dinner, only an hour or two, so as to not raise any suspicion, and then you could fade from Jack’s life.
Not that he’d notice. He hadn’t even spoken to you tonight, though no fault of his own; Brooke kept her claws deep, and it was clear he didn’t want to risk an argument. Not that you could blame him—she was his girlfriend. Her. Not you. He didn’t owe you anything.
Conversations filled your ears, ostracized you—every time you had opened your mouth before, it had felt wrong, the scratch on a vinyl everyone skipped over. You saw him first—noticeably tense, chair a bit further away from Brooke that it had been earlier. Tensed forehead, hands balled on the table; you longed to ask what was wrong, as you were used to doing. But you imagined talking to him, and it somehow felt wrong, a peasant addressing a king.
Then, your eyes fell to your seat.
No longer empty, occupied now by Bianca, who was talking casually with Brooke, as if her actions hadn’t changed your entire perception of the situation. There were no more seats. No more room. The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, hit with the same sting of antiseptic on a wound—there wasn’t any more room for you at the table, just as there was no room for you in Jack’s life.
Maybe this was always meant to happen. Childhood didn’t remain forever, and it seemed, neither was your friendship. You’d always wondered why Jack had chosen you, someone so dissimilar to himself and his friends. Eventually, you made peace with it. His friendship was a balm to everything negative. Now… here you were again, more ostracized than ever.
What were you supposed to do? The long haul wasn’t meant to have an end.
Everyone was looking at you now. Stage fright, you lost your speech, thousands of eyes from a crowd looking at you, spotlight centered on your face, and you couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t—
Blue eyes found you, stood stonily at the entrance of the dining room. Jack’s eyebrows knitted, confused as to why you were still stood. When he saw Bianca, his lip curled. Frustration sparked, bemusement painted over. Once more that protective streak flared, something you were so used to—it had once felt the greatest trophy, proof that the Jack Hughes cared enough to stand up for you. It felt a sore consolation now, a reminder that, as always, you’d be the meek girl from his childhood he was forced to drag along, defend, shield from his new life that he fit into perfectly, that you spilled out from.
“Get up.”
Then, the attention went to him.
Brooke glanced at her boyfriend, annoyance flashing on her face. Their conversation paused. “What?”
Jack nodded towards Bianca. “She took her seat,” he explained in a clipped voice. “Get up.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Jack, it’s not a big—”
“It is,” he interrupted. Tension sparked in the air like a misfired firework. “She needs to sit and Bianca took her place, so—”
“It’s fine!” The words spilled out before you could second guess them. They came out raw and pained and everything you didn’t want to appear as; pity pooled from everyone, that sort of second-hand pity you saw on strangers faces when you’d lose your footing and fall.
It was too much. Pins dug into your skin, all of a sudden too tight. You needed to leave. Now, before your bones crumbled and heart gave out and finally everything burst.
“I—um, I should probably get going, anyway,” you said, nodding as if trying to be convincing. “With finals comin’ up I should get in as much studying as I can.”
Determination was something you’d always admired about Jack; it only irked you now. He stood, shrugged off Brooke’s outstretched hand and came to stand before you, and God—it was a disservice to not admire him, even as annoyance creased his eyes and drew inwards his lips. Beauty, in such a raw form, it startled you. Growing up, he’d always been the center of everyones attention. The hockey prodigy, the first overall draft pick, the franchise player for the Devils.
You? You’d been nothing special. Yet he’d still chosen you. And here he was, apparently doing it again—but why? Why when he had a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life and fun friends did he always come back, when clearly you were no more than a burden?
You tried not to seem spiteful. You did. But it was so hard to hide your wounds and ignore their pain. He may not have seen them, but they were unfortunately still there. And it seemed they always would be.
“You can’t,” he said, searched your gaze—he’d always been able to see straight through you, with such simplicity it frightened you. You tried to shuttered your expression, hide your pain. It wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. “Dinner’s just started—”
“Really, J, it’s fine.” Heat bored into your face where you knew Brooke was staring, daring you to express any deeper connection with Jack past the sheltered friendliness you were currently forcing.
You weren’t going to budge. Jack saw that, and so he sighed and glanced out the window. “I’ll drive you home.”
Oh, God. Nothing was ever easy. Pushing and pushing and pushing until you weren’t sure you even wanted to get up anymore, to even try. Every time you did, right back down you went, encapsulated by everything Jack.
Freedom felt a forgotten thing. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t love Jack, when he wasn’t at the forefront of your mind, main star of the play.
And honestly, you were tired. Tired of wishing for something that would never happen. Tired of being viewed as the shackle around Jack’s wrist. Just tired.
“No need,” you muttered noncommittally, saw the way Jack’s face twisted with concern and confusion and everything you didn’t want to see. “It’s your dinner, J. With my grandma driving, I’ll get home safe.”
The attempt at a joke didn’t land. Smile didn’t even begin to twitch his lips. “It’s dark outside,” he stated, an obvious fact that held no weight for anyone but you and him. “I always drive you when it’s dark.”
That was true enough; your inability to see properly at night meant Jack became your chauffeur, not that he ever complained—even still, it was another thing he did for you, time sacrificed to accommodate you. Prepared to leave his own dinner, his own girlfriend, just to make sure you didn’t have to do something you were uncomfortable with. Conceptually, it was sweet, a sort of gesture that would’ve normally made your heart soar. Now? It made you feel like a burden, an incapable little girl still hiding in the shadow of her protector, afraid of the sting of daylight.
No more.
“I’m going to be fine,” you reassured. Jack didn’t appear convinced—he never was satisfied when it came to you, to your safety, unless he was directly involved. “Stay and have fun.”
“What if—”
“Let her go, babe.”
Brooke’s voice proved the nail in the coffin; a part of you heard the undertone of excitement shot through her words, the possibility of your leave alleviating any annoyance your presence had brought. Without you, Jack’s attention would be fully on her. Without you, he wouldn’t have to concern himself on whether you were having fun and if you were okay.
You. You. You.
You’d considered yourself Jack’s anchor, the grounding of his mind—unfortunately, you’d forgotten an anchor also keeps a thing in place, forcing inactivity.
Let her go.
It rang like a death knell, struck sharp as a poisoned dart, invisible but so unmistakably fatal.
Gathering what remained of your dignity, you grabbed your purse off of your—Bianca’s—chair, caught the commiseration shining in Luke’s eyes like a tarnished trophy. It only stung, reminded you that you needed pity.
Before you could flee the room like a scolded dog, Jack caught your wrist. Heat bloomed, a fever rushing to your head—his simple touch made you sick with want and need and something deeper that would never be realized or fostered. Something you had to let die.
“Text me when you’re home,” he said softly. Fingers gently squeezed your wrist. Where once you’d feel comforted, you just felt trapped. “Please.”
Not trusting your words, all you did was nod.
Honestly, you’d expected some dark cloud to cover you when finally you decided to move on. A procession of funeral goers flocking like crows, unable to understand why you’d abandoned a years-long friendship over something insignificant. Over words spewed from hateful lips.
But it wasn’t what you’d overheard. Deeper, a more sharp knowledge that even if Jack loved you, held you closer than anyone in his circle of friends, he’d never want you in the way you desired. And for a while, that was okay. Because he existed separate of everything—and then came Brooke, and it all crumbled.
You could handle him not loving you. You couldn’t, however, handle him loving someone else so openly.
Street lights blurred behind tears, a mess of streaky lights like a watercolor canvas. Flashes of nights when Jack would drive you home, insisting on taking the wheel so that you didn’t have to toe out of your comfort zone, they haunted you like a inescapable film reel on repeat in your mind. Memories fogged by lost youth, angry words from Jack’s lips as he’d stand up for you—never a party person, denounced for draining the fun. Jack never let those insults slip lip before he was barking at whoever said it.
A responsibility. A burden. The lines had become blurred in recent years.
The latter seemed more fitting.
Through a barrier of tears, you were able to send Jack a text as your car rolled to a stop in the parking lot.
me
at my dorm
j :)
ok good. u ok? u seemed off @ dinner
Fingers hovered over your screen. Make movements to draft a text. Nothing seemed sufficient.
You let the text stale. Sit stagnant on your phone. Jack would likely worry, eventually call—you just wanted to fall into a void and never return. Not after the mess you’d made of dinner.
The mess you’d made of your life.
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Making a ghost of yourself was far more difficult than you’d thought it would be.
Incessantly, Jack had texted you, called you—you didn’t answer any of them. Silence felt a balm to your shame. Selfish, you knew, to just ghost Jack without offering any explanation, but nothing would be sufficient, not without souring the connection you were hoping would die without pain.
Cowardice, craven, pathetic—you knew you were all of it. To you, you were giving Jack a chance to pull back, to fizzle the friendship of his own accord. Maybe then it would’ve stung less, if the desire of its end was reciprocated, mutual. As it were, it was not.
Even with your withdrawal, Jack still tried. Shot texts, called and punctuated them with voicemails, sent you TikToks and Snaps and everything he would normally do if everything was fine; but it wasn’t. And you knew he knew, could sense the urgency in his attempts at communication.
You felt dirty, filthy with shame and guilt.
Despite your best efforts, you didn’t appear as unaffected as you hoped. While your insides were shredding themselves, you tried valiantly to paint over your visage with the normal happy-go-lucky smile you always wore. Most people, if they noticed, didn’t comment on it.
Unfortunately, Kaylen did notice.
Since your freshman year of college, Kaylen had been your roommate—low maintenance, intelligent to the point of making you stupid without even trying. As such, she was far more perceptive than you gave her credit for.
There’d been times you confided in her about your feeling for Jack, sought out advice that never seemed good enough. Because no one but yourself could fix the valley that had split between Jack and you. You could seek outward help all you wanted, but nothing would change unless you did something—and, really, you weren’t sure that was even a good idea anymore.
Two days of moping resulted in Kaylen’s intervention.
“Get up.”
Sunlight bled through your shut eyes, forced a wince. Hands rolled you onto your back, the somewhat stiff mattress of your bed providing a measly cushion. Sleep intruded on, your hands extended, attempted to push away the figure you knew what trying to rile you.
“Go away,” you grunted, throat thickened by sleep and other terrible emotions.
“No,” Kaylen hissed. When finally you opened your eyes, her squinted expression invaded your vision. “Look, I’ve let you be miserable for two days, but it’s getting ridiculous. What the hell happened with you and loverboy?”
A jolt nearly paused your heart mid-beat. Thinking about Jack stung in a way you didn’t like to admit, mainly due to the fact that it was painfully embarrassing that he had such a control over you.
“Don’t call him that,” you muttered, bit your tongue to stop anything else from spilling out.
Kaylen’s eyebrows quirked. “So it is about him?”
Nails scraped your lungs. “No—yes—fuck,” you moaned, sitting up and balancing your forehead on bent knees. “It’s… all fucked up, K. I don’t know what to do.”
A sigh left her lips. You felt the bed dip as she climbed beside you. “I can help if you tell me.”
And so you did, started at the beginning of dinner to the end, as you left like a dog defeating in a cage match, heart crying blood. Comforting circles were rubbed into your thigh, but all they did was remind you how Jack used to trace shapes onto your leg, or arm, or back—how he touched you, just to know you were there, with him. He said it placated him.
It was shameful, how bile teased your throat even imagining it.
Rationally, you knew everything was your doing. Loving Jack, torturing yourself by being in his presence whilst he focused his attention on his girlfriend. Expecting any semblance of affection or intimacy even as another held his heart, branded her name over your own. It was always going to happen—knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.
When finally you finished, the conclusion of your mournful, self-pitying tale followed by the sting of unwanted tears, Kaylen’s thoughtful silence waned. Her lips pursed, fingers twitching. You expected her to berate you; what had you expected, stupid girl? He has a girlfriend!
Instead, Kaylen hugged you. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulled back with that pitiful smile you’d seen one too many times—one you’d be fine with if you never saw again. “He cares about you—”
“Not how I care about him, though,” you finished, and Kaylen gave a weak nod.
“I mean, if you told him what Brooke and her little bitch of a friend said, I’m sure he’d leave her. He’s done more for less.” That much was true. Regardless of whose lips it came from, Jack didn’t tolerate disrespect towards you—cut long time friends off for assuming they had any authority to speak poorly of you.
And you knew—knew with the same certainty that you knew your own name—that Jack would break up with Brooke if he knew how she’d spoken of you.
That should’ve made you giddy. Bursted bright light in your chest at the prospect of having Jack to yourself once more. Instead, it made you feel heavy, sand packed into your bones. Who were you to invade his happiness? If he’d chosen Brooke, so be it.
Sure, she’d disparaged you, but Jack’s life wasn’t yours to dictate anymore. If he wanted Brooke, he’d have her, until he decided to leave—not because you decided for him.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Eyelids heavy, the residue of late-night tears remaining on the skin, you felt the fight leave you. Kaylen frowned. “I just want it all to be over.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Seriously? You’re giving up on an eight year friendship because of something some dickface said about you? I thought Jack meant more to you than that.”
Kaylen’s words stung. Made you defensive, because she was right—you were giving up and you did care about Jack, but the pain had become too much. “It’s not—it’s harder to explain than that. He’s outgrown me, K. Everyone can see it but him. I’m an obligation, a burden, and yeah, maybe he loves me as a friend and maybe he wants me around, but his friends never have—his fucking girlfriend doesn’t. And at this point, I just want it to end, I want him to be happy without the conditions of making me happy.”
Silence followed. Contemplation showed clear on Kaylen’s face. You could tell, even without her words, that she didn’t agree—but, she didn’t comment on that. Rather, she placed a hand on your leg and squeezed.
Just like Jack always did.
“It’s your life, babe,” she conceded. “And if you want to do this, I’m not going to stop you—but you have to be content with it.” She gestured to you, the nest of blankets and red-rimmed eyes. “Because this? This isn’t happiness over a good choice. You’re miserable without him, and it’s been barely two days. Think about what you’re doing before it’s irreversible.”
With that, Kaylen got up and went to her own bed, and neither of you made comment of it for the rest of the day.
Her words came again and again like a fractured turntable. Of course you were miserable—Jack had been a constant in your life for eight years, consistently preserving your peace, including you when you’d never felt more like an outsider. Happiness was synonymous with Jack, his smile, his presence, him.
Did you regret your decision? Yes, and no. You regretted the way you’d gone about it. The petty silence, ignoring a person who’d made your younger years bearable. Your friendship deserved a better death than that, a reason rather than just… fading from existence, as if it never mattered in the first place.
That wasn’t the message you wanted conveyed, and so with fingers unsteadied by aftershocks, you texted Jack.
You weren’t sure how you’d explain, if you could tiptoe around the actual reason. Maybe you couldn’t, and maybe that was okay.
me
i’m so sorry for everything. i’ll explain in person. can we meet up?
Your response came half a second later. As if he were waiting. That selfish part of you prayed he had been.
j :)
ofc. my place tn?
me
yeah. that’s good. brooke won’t be upset?
Asking after her made you want to puke, but you knew it was necessary—she didn’t like Jack even breathing near you, having an entire sit down conversation with him was certainly out of the question.
Thrice, the little text bubble appeared and disappeared on your phone screen. You could sense the apprehension without any background knowledge.
j :)
not a problem. we broke up.
It was shameful, the backwards type of pleasure that brought you.
Maybe you were a terrible person. A terrible friend. You tried to reason that it wasn’t wrong to love someone, to wish they were yours.
me
shit j. i’m sorry
j :)
i’m not. i’ll see u tn. 7:30 work? have dinner w the guys.
me
yeah, that’s fine. see you soon, j.
j :)
be safe. i’ll text you when i’m home.
The hard part wasn’t even over, and your heart was already breaking in two.
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Sweat beaded at your palms, the cold claws of apprehension raking down your spine. Countless times you’d been stood here, facing the lifeless beige of Jack’s apartment door. This time, however, you stood here knowing it was the last time. A silent farewell to familiarity, the ties finally cut. Jack would fight, you would cry, and maybe he’d be able to change your mind—it seemed such an unlikely outcome that it calcified every inhale in your throat.
Shaking hands rapped the wooden door, where behind would come the execution of a friendship you’d held like a crutch for years upon years. Your childhood had died, and maybe it would’ve been better had it been left there as well, so as to spare you this heart-rending pain.
Even still, you wouldn’t have traded those years for the world—everything they taught you, through pain and happiness. It made you who you were, brought you to his doorstep with melancholy eyes and a failing heart.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door, urgent in a way that picked up your heart rate. The next moments you imagined with brutal clarity—Jack’s hopeful gaze, blue in a way no one else’s ever had been, the soft slope of his nose you teased him for, scrunched whenever he was particularly concerned. How he’d usher you in, hear your words, plead for a moment to explain, and then admit his love for you.
That was how you dreamt it. Unsurprisingly, it was not how it went.
Instead of the door opening to reveal the man you’d love for a lifetime, the squealing hinges were followed by a face that nearly knocked you backwards. Previous indifference smeared into flat-out disdain as Brooke’s eyes caught your figure, engulfed in one of Jack’s faded hoodies and likely disheveled in a way she’d never experienced herself.
Arrows punctured your lungs, sole your breath and defaulted your barely beating heart. Brooke was here. At Jack’s apartment. After they’d supposedly broken up. Had he lied? Was he tricking you, making you the fool? He never would, you knew that, but your wounded mind spun falsities to perpetuate your pain, as if punishment for trusting him in the first place.
“What do you want?” Brooke grunted, leant against the doorframe. Lips twitched into a smirk, the smile of the victorious.
You’d never considered yourself a violent person, but the urge to punch her in the teeth itched your fists. “Is Jack here?”
Her face fell. Something dark flashed in her face—she hesitated a moment, tossed a look over her shoulder. “Yes.”
The curt response was better than nothing, you supposed. “Right, well, can you tell—”
Brooke ran a hand through her hair. Adjusted the clasp of her necklace. “We were kind of in the middle of something. Come back later?”
The axe struck down.
Gravel filled your throat. Suffocated you. If Brooke knew the affect of her words, for once it didn’t show on her face. Years of life had taught you many things, drug you through agonies you wouldn’t relive for anything, yet somehow, this was the worst pain.
To be betrayed, trust snapped by a single action, it stung. Wormed venom in your veins and contaminated your bloodstream, poisoning your heart. Realistically, Jack hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He was allowed to hook up with other girls, to love them—he had, for years.
That wasn’t the issue.
No, it was the fact that he’d set a time, invited you over, and somehow forgot? Or had he set it all up, just to rub it in your face, get his lick-back for your prolonged silence towards him? Either way, it hurt, hurt like a bitch.
Made stone, all you did for a moment was blink at Brooke before a voice called from the background, “Who is it?”
Jack.
Fright found you then, broke away your shell of stone. You couldn’t let him see you, the dog wishing once more to come in from the cold. If he’d planned it, and saw you, he knew he’d won. If he hadn’t planned it, then he realized that—irrecoverably—he fucked up. Both choices felt like a criminal trial you didn’t want any part of.
“I—um—have a good night,” you rushed out, feet stumbling over themselves as you practically ran away from Jack’s door.
So much for closure.
So much for being broken up.
Maybe this was your sign. The one you needed to finally pull away.
Because Jack Hughes didn’t love you. Not past platonic soulmates—a relationship stained with past memories, ones that made both of you incapable of letting go, even as you outgrew it.
You were done being second best. Done trying to squeeze into a place you didn’t fit anymore.
If Brooke was Jack’s choice, so be it. You didn’t want any part of it anymore.
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zegrasdrysdale · 5 months
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[ one day ] j. hughes
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paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary : (Y/N) accidentally distracts Jack while he’s being interviewed in their home for a day in the life of a Devils player documentary that's being filmed, and Jack brings up the idea of a proposal
warning(s) : a quick mention of suggestive content but no actual sex
author’s note : i don’t understand how this plot came to be and tbh it's kinda stupid but i’m taking it and running with it
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Jack being one of NHL's most popular players has it's pros and cons. Today is one of those cons that they both hate. Jack is being followed around for the day to film a Devils documentary that follows players during their off days. Jack being one of the Devils' star players means he had to do the documentary.
That was before (Y/N) talked him into it. She didn't realize how intense it would all be. An entire film crew has set up in their living room with big cameras and lighting. They have made themselves very much at home after knocking on their door at the crack of dawn.
The two of them were having a really good morning in bed together when the film crew came knocking. Lots of naked cuddles and kisses were exchanged when a knock rang out through their apartment. It ruined both of their moods.
They stand in their kitchen and watch the crew finish setting up from the island counter. Jack is now dressed in a dark grey Devils hockey t-shirt with black sweatpants that have a Devils logo on the pant leg.
"Do you want me in this?" (Y/N) questions. Jack looks over at her with a confused look on his face. "I mean, we've been mostly quiet about our relationship so I completely understand if you don't want me to be apart of your episode of the documentary."
Jack shakes his head as soon as the words pass her lips. "No, I want you in this, (Y/N)," he tells her. "It's a documentary about a day in my life and you're a really big part of my life so of course I want you in this. Just let me do the interview really quick then we can act like it's a normal day."
The woman doing the interview is one of the Devils reporters, but (Y/N) can't remember her name at the moment. She sits opposite Jack in the comfy chair. The camera over her shoulder is pointed at Jack.
While Jack is being interviewed, (Y/N) goes to her room to get ready for their insane day ahead. She needs to put on some actual clothes too. All she's been wearing since she got out of bed is one of Jack's t-shirts and a pair of really small shorts. Not exactly what she wants to be wearing if she's going to be followed around for most of the day by people that work for the Devils.
She can hear some of the questions being asked while she's getting changed. They're the usual questions. Asking about how the season is going for him, how he's been recovering from that shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for a handful of games, and how it's been having his brother on the team with him. Sometimes Jack's sassy side comes out. He's never been the one to hide how he's feeling when answering questions.
To mess with Jack a little bit, and to kind of surprise him when he's done with the interview, (Y/N) grabs Jack's Devils hoodie that he wears to practice sometimes. His number sits on her chest and it's a little too big. She pairs the black hoodie with a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee. She throws her hair up into a high ponytail and puts on light makeup just to cover any blemishes or pimples that'll pop out on camera.
When she leaves their bedroom, Jack is talking about how amazing it is to be considered one of the league's best players.
"It's always the goal to be one of the best in whatever sport you play," Jack is saying as she walks through the living room. "I, um, didn't think it would happen, uh, so early on in my, um, career." (Y/N) looks over and sees that Jack has his eyes on her. "Sorry. Got distracted." There's a smile on his face when he sees what she's wearing.
The reporter turns and looks at (Y/N). "I didn't know your girlfriend lived with you, Jack," she says as she turns back to him. (Y/N) smiles and starts to make some coffee.
"One of the best decisions I have ever made," Jack says from the living room. "Getting to fall asleep with her in my arms and waking up with her wrapped around me is an honor. We've been together for over two years now and it's been incredible. My parents and brothers all love her, but not nearly as much as I do."
(Y/N) smiles to herself as the coffee brews. Her back is to him at the moment so he can't see the smile.
The way Jack talks about her sometimes makes her fall in love with him a little more. She talks about him like that all the time to friends and family, but knowing he's saying all of this in front of a camera for a documentary makes what he'[s saying a little more special. He isn't holding back because he's on camera.
"That's so cute," the interviewer says. "Could we be expecting a Jack Hughes proposal soon?"
"We'll see what happens," Jack replies. That causes her to spin around immediately and look at Jack. The smile that was on his face is still there as their eyes meet from two different rooms. Her smile grows bigger.
They've never talked about marriage. Both of them are very happy with where they are at in their relationship so they both not rushing to walk down the aisle. Plus, they're 21 and 22 respectively so they're still really young. They don't have to get married right now.
The interview goes by without another mention of marriage, or (Y/N). She's okay with that because this is about Jack and his accomplishments as NHL's rising star. He's come a long way since his rookie year.
(Y/N) was around that year but they weren't together. They were close friends at that point so she saw every day how Jack struggled his rookie year. He struggled with hockey and he struggled with what people were saying about him online. Calling him a NHL bust despite being drafted first overall.
They grew closer that year and it was during his sophomore season when they got together. She's been super supportive of him since he got drafted, but especially after his rookie year.
Jack quickly excuses himself before he gets mic'd up for the rest of the day. She's pouring coffee into two mugs for both of them when Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around his girlfriend.
"I know we never talked about it but-"
"Yes, I'd like to get married to you one day, Jack," (Y/N) interrupts as she turns in his arms. He presses her against the counter with one hand and takes his hot coffee in his other. "We don't have to rush into anything though. I'm happy with where we are and you're still trying to prove yourself in the NHL."
"So one day?" he asks.
She leans forward and kisses him softly and quickly. "One day."
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puckinghischier · 1 day
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Prison For Life
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: anon request for a luke fic based on olivia rodrigo’s “prison for life”
notes: not gonna lie, y’all, i’m not too happy with how this one turned out, but i got tired of trying to re-write it, so here it is. as usual, hope you enjoy.
[1.7k]
~
I’m a feminist, obviously
But I wouldn’t really mind him saving me
You had always been the type to handle your own problems. A guy that doesn’t know how to take no for an answer? You knew exactly how to bruise his ego enough to have him tuck his tail and run away. Someone getting too handsy while you’re out with your friends? A swift elbow to the gut will do it every time. Grown man yelling at yourself or your friend over virtually nothing? Ask him why he feels the need to yell at women to compensate for the fact his mother didn’t love him as a child. It was too easy, really.
You never hesitated to run to the defense of your friends anytime they needed, getting a rush out of watching men deflate at your comments.
That is, until you met Luke.
Your relationship with Luke caused you to discover you actually enjoyed having someone rush to your defense, for once.
The first time you felt the unmistakable burn in your stomach at the act of Luke rushing to defend your honor was when the Devils were playing against the Flyers in the stadium series. You were in awe of the sight before you, the Metlife stadium alive with the screams and cheers of nearly 83,000 hockey fans. You were down near the ice in a designated viewing area for friends and family of the players, ready to cheer on your boyfriend in one of the biggest games of his career so far.
You were walking over towards the Devil’s bench, wanting to wish Luke good luck before the team returned to the locker room after warm-ups, when you heard someone shout out to you.
“C’mon, sweetheart! You can do better than that! You’d look so much better in Orange!” a man standing near the Flyer’s benches grabs your attention, your head snapping in the direction of the noise.
“Excuse me?” You responded back, disgust showing in your tone and on your face.
“The jersey, sweetie! You know he’s got about a million other puck bunnies fawning over him, right?” He calls back, referencing the Hughes jersey you’re wearing for Luke. “Maybe you should come sit with us! We’ll show you what a real hockey team looks like. And if you’re still not convinced after the game, I can think of a few ways to persuade you!” The heckler continued, elbowing the man next to him in the ribs, winking dramatically at you.
Is this really happening? Is a grown ass man, one who looks old enough to be your father, harassing you right now? Over what team’s jersey you’re wearing? You had to bite back a laugh, the situation simply comical to you.
You had the words ready to go on your tongue, a split second from putting the man in his place, when you heard a different, much more recognizable shout from the ice behind you.
“What did you just say?” Luke shouts as he skates up next to you.
“Luke, I’m fine, really it’s okay-“
“I was just telling the lady here how much better she’d look in orange! Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about taking her home? Go pick one of the other hundreds of bitches here wearing your number! We picked this one!” the man cuts you off, earning a chuckle from his partner in crime.
You look over to Luke, noticing how his features were darkened and he was nearly shaking with rage. You were surprised with yourself when you found his reaction a turn on. Your face turned warm, your insides lighting on fire at the vein popping out of Luke’s forehead, watching the thoughts form behind his red face.
“Yeah…that’s what I thought you said,” Luke surprised you by speaking calmly. Too shocked by your own thoughts about how much you enjoyed Luke coming to your rescue, you hadn’t noticed that he removed his gloves and was making his way over the wall surrounding the ice until it was a moment too late.
“Hey, woah, slow down there, hot shot.” You grabbed his arm just as both skates hit the ground.
“Y/N, let go of me.”
“No. Look at me,” you requested sternly, tugging at his arm.
Luke looked down and met your eyes, his gaze immediately softening. You had an eyebrow cocked, the look on your face silently asking him what in the hell he was doing.
“Luke, first of all, you’re going to ruin your skates, you don’t even have your guards on. Second, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t go over there and engage with those guys, you could get hurt. You’re getting ready to play a game, you don’t need bruised knuckles or a black eye affecting your skating. Plus, you can’t exactly win a hockey game from jail with assault charges, now can you?” You ask him, hands on your hips, scolding him like a child.
“Y/N, they can’t just get away with saying those things to and about you. Or any woman around here for that matter. Someone needs to go over there and shut their mouths for them.” Luke’s fists clench, jaw so tense you’re worried he’ll break a tooth. “And if I end up in jail, so what? I can post my own bail. It’s worth it, for you,” Luke continued, throwing a glare in the direction of the Flyer’s fans every few seconds.
You stare at him in disbelief. On the one hand, you find it kind of hot he just said he would literally go to jail for you, if it came down to it. The anger radiating through his body a testament to how much he cares for you. On the other hand, you’re appalled at how stupid your boyfriend is. He’s about to play in one of the biggest games of his career, and he’s trying to throw it all away over a couple of sexist men?
“No, not so what. If you would’ve given me five seconds I would’ve handled it on my own, but instead you came over here and got me all hot and bothered because you decided I needed saving.” Luke’s eyebrows shot up at your confession. “Even if you think I’m worth it, they’re not. So you’re going to get your lanky ass back on that ice and beat the shit out of Philadelphia so they’ll shut the fuck up.”
“Hot and bothered, huh?” Luke smirks, ignoring everything else you just said. You rolled your eyes at him. Typical Luke behavior.
“Not the point here,” you chided him. “The point is, no one is going to jail tonight and Philadelphia is going to lose this hockey game. Plus, at the end of the night, I’m going home with you. Not some random ass-hat that’s old enough to be my dad. No matter how much he wants to waste his breath on how I’m a jersey chaser for the wrong team.”
“Damn right you are.” Luke agrees. “And now that I know you like it when I play the macho boyfriend role, I might have to do it more often. I don’t care if you can defend yourself, it’s my job as your boyfriend to run dickheads like that into the ground when they open their mouth at you,” Luke’s tone turns dark once again, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up your spine.
“Alright, I think it’s best you get back on the ice, now, before you go missing from the starting line-up for another reason other than being in the back of a cop car,” you all but pant.
Even though Luke let’s out a chuckle at your response, you don’t miss the excitement that flashes across his eyes at your words.
“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes you. “Hold on, something I gotta do first,” he mumbles, hand reaching out to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his.
His lips meet yours in a searing kiss. Your mouth parts in shock only slightly, but enough for Luke to slip his tongue inside your mouth, meeting your own. For a split second you forget where you are, savoring the taste of him, but when you hear the whoops and hollers of his teammates behind him, you come back to your senses and pull back from the kiss, resting your forehead on his.
“Alright, easy there, tiger. You’re supposed to be working, you know?” You say, trying to catch your breath, dodging Luke’s lips as they chase yours.
“I don’t really care. Needed my good luck kiss,” he tells you, stealing a small peck from your lips, stepping back and over the short wall, putting himself back on the ice.
You look behind him, seeing Jack and Curtis making kissing faces in your direction, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at Luke.
“Yeah, with an audience, right?” You were referencing Jack and Curtis, nodding your head in the direction of the two man-children behind your boyfriend, but as you look up at his face, his gaze was set on the two instigators of the whole situation.
“Just wanted to show them you’re mine. Not some puck bunny they can harass.” Luke shrugs, looking down at you once again. Your cheeks heat at his words, a smile finding its way on your face as he skates away from the wall, still facing you.
You assume that’s the end of the conversation, turning to walk away, when you hear Luke’s voice shout once more.
“Quit harassing my girlfriend, jackass, or your team won’t be the only thing getting beat tonight!” Luke belts out, throwing up a middle finger behind him as he skates towards his teammates.
You watch the two Flyer’s fans laugh, clearly not very threatened by the rookie hockey player. One of them notices your attention on them, placing a hand in the shape of a phone at his ear, mouthing “call me, babe” at you. You roll your eyes at the both of them, mimicking your boyfriend and flipping them the bird as you walk back to join Luke’s parents before the game starts.
Later on in the evening, you watched the two men’s reactions to the game in front of them. The confidence in their stances lost after Nico scored less than a minute after the match-up started. You continued to watch their reactions throughout the game, the Devil’s absolutely crushing the Flyer’s.
The two men storm off halfway into the third period, slinging beer cans and throwing their hats on the ground in frustration. You laugh at their distress, wishing you could go back to two hours ago and throw the win in their faces.
And, when the whole ordeal of Luke running to your defense ends up plastered all over social media the next day? Well, let’s just say you and Luke didn’t make it to any celebratory get-togethers his teammates were hosting.
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uluvjay · 4 months
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Santa red-J. Hughes
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Jack Hughes x fem! Reader
Jack gifts you an early Christmas gift and asks you to model it for him
Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(a no no), teasing, pet names, dirty talk, grinding, cursing, kissing, porn with a small plot, this was supposed to be out before Christmas so I apologize😭, sorry for any errors!
Day 10 of my ficmas celebration!
The ride home from the prudential center was quiet, not a word spoken even as Jack pulled into his parking spot and exited the car.
You could see he was still tense from the game, you could hear Lindy screaming at them from the hallway where you and Jim waited for the boys to come out.
The tips of his ears were still red with anger, and you knew him well enough to know he was still pissed about being sent to the box and the added loss had fueled his anger further.
Once you entered the shared apartment he took off towards your bedroom while you went into the kitchen, You were taking a drink of water when you heard his stiff voice call out for you.
“Everything okay?” You questioned as you appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
Jack was sitting on the bed, shoes and coat off but his game day suit still hugged his body deliciously. Beside him was a Christmas bag, tissue paper coming from the top.
“Can you put this on?” He asked, extending the bag out towards you.
“What is it?” You questioned, taking the bag from his outstretched hand.
“Was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was low, not longer only filled with anger and embarrassment but something more.
“Okay.” You shrugged, setting it down on the dresser beside you as you went to strip off your devils crewneck, however a large hand on your arm stopped you.
“C-can you put it on in the bathroom? Wanna watch you walk out in it.” He blushed.
“Of course.” You smiled, picking the bag back up you made your way into the large bathroom connected to your bedroom.
Opening the bag you found a box, one that belonged to Jacks favorite lingerie store. You had bought a set for his birthday one year and since then he had been in love with the place.
Opening the box you were met with a deep red set, a tad bit darker than traditional Christmas red. Running a finger over the lace you took in how delicate it was.
You would never understand why he spent so much money on sets just for him to always end up ripping some part of it during the night.
Stripping off your clothes you slid the set onto your body, admiring yourself in mirror. Your eyes caught how well the color complimented your skin tone and the way the cups of the bra pushed your boobs up perfectly.
“Once again, you have magnificent taste.” You laughed as you stepped out of the bathroom.
Jacks head whipped in your direction as he heard your voice, a breath getting caught in his throat as his eyes locked on your body.
The set was perfect, the panties making your legs looks even more delicious, and your breasts-god your breasts, Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to control himself.
“Oh fuck me.” He mumbled, running his hands over his face.
“I mean if you want me to.” You teased the man, making your way over to stand between his legs.
“You look breathtaking.” He spoke lowly, eyes taking in your body at a closer angle.
“Thank you.” You smiled, leaning down to give him a soft peck.
The boy whined as you tried to pull away, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist to keep you trapped between his spread legs.
“Give me a real kiss.” He whispered, lips just inches from yours.
“That was a real kiss” you giggled, but Jack didn’t find any amusement in your words and he quickly showed you that by tangling one of his hands in your hair and pulling your lips to his.
It was hot and breathtaking as his tongue traced against yours before it quickly won dominance, your lips moved feverishly in sync earning him a low moan from your throat.
His hand that still rested on your waist slipped down to the back of your thigh, lifting it lightly he signaled that he wanted you to sit on his lap.
You pulled your lips away from his to take your position overtop of him but the make out hastily resumed as you pulled the beanie off his head and tangled your fingers in his damp hair.
The dark locks were still damp from his post game shower but that didn’t stop you from tugging and pulling on the locks just the way he liked.
A smirk overtook your face at the hoarse cry that broke from his throat when you grounded your core over the tent in his pants.
“Baby.” He groaned, hands coming to still your moving hips.
“What do you need Jacky?.” You teased, lips trailing all around his throat.
“You. Need to fuck you.” He groaned, head tipping back instinctively allowing you more skin to roam.
He shivered as you smirked against his skin, heat growing in his stomach as you pulled away and looked down at him.
His eyes followed you as you moved yourself off of his lap and moved your hands up to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, however Jack was a bit to impatient and moved your hands to rip it open instead.
You giggled before trailing your hands down his toned abdomen to his belt, hands working quickly to undo the buckle and pull his pants and boxers down.
And while Jack expected you to climb back on his lap he was filled with confusion as you stepped back and moved to sit against the head board.
“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me.” You smirked down at him with eyes full of lust.
Jack could feel the heat spread from his lower stomach up to his spine as you trailed a hand down to slowly rub over your clit through your lacy panties.
Shaking out of his haze jack shot up and removed his remaining clothing before his body was hovering over yours.
His large hand wrapped around yours and moved it to the side with a soft ‘tsk’ as his own hand came to push the lace to the side.
A groan left his mouth at the sight of how wet you were for him, your cunt glistening in the low light of the bedroom.
A deep cry came from you as he ran his cock through your folds, his head pushing into your entrance with ease.
His hips thrusted forward as a fast pace, the anger that had once been building up in his body now being filtered into his thrusts.
“Jack!” You cried as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulders, his length now hitting the spongy spot deep inside you.
“So good for me baby, feel so fucking good.” He groaned hoarsely.
One of his hands came down to pull the cups of your bra down, hands coming down to palm your breasts, His thumbs tweaked and pulled at your nipples earning sweet cries of pleasure from you.
“Shi-Jacky, you’re so deep.” You whimpered as you felt his tip once again nudging that spot deep within you.
Jack admired the way your body reacted to his menstruations, how your hands clenched the sheets beside you and how your head was thrown back in nothing but pure pleasure.
He could feel you clenching him tightly, and by the way your moans had subsided to drawn out whimpers and mumbles he knew you were getting close.
“Gonna come for me baby?” He questioned as one of his hands came down to rub cricles over your clit.
“Mhm” you moaned with a drunken nod.
Jack smirked at the state of you, he loved nothing more than watching you completely fucked out for him.
“Come on baby, give it to me.” He encouraged, thumb moving at the same pace as his snapping hips as he chased a high of his own.
A loud cry broke through the room as your climax overtook you, the leg that was hooked over jacks shoulder shaking while your back arched and eyes clenched shut.
“So beautiful.” He praised as he placed light kisses to your lips, swallowing your whimpers of overstimulation.
“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there.” He groaned, forehead resting against yours as his thrusts began to get sloppy and deeper.
With a few more deep thrusts the air was filled with a deep groan as Jack came deep inside you, painting your warm walls white with his release.
His large body collapsed on top of yours as his head snuggled into your neck, lips leaving small kisses on the skin.
“Feel better?” You spoke quietly bringing a hand to run through his damp hair.
“Much. Thank you baby.” He smiled giving you a proper kiss before he slid out of you and went to grab a towel to clean you up.
A few minutes later you were both snuggled on the couch, the soft light of the Christmas tree filling the living room while you two let out soft giggles while watching elf.
-
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luvhughes43 · 5 months
Text
is it over now? | jack hughes
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part two of the beginning
au masterlist⭐️
note: i switched to first person pov for this story just to test it out. Inbox me if you’d want to go back to 3rd person.
warnings: pregnancy, birth
word count: 4.7k
the doctors waiting room is cold and uninviting. i stare up at all the pregnancy posters that litter the walls, and soon my gaze falls to all the mothers and all the fathers. they all sit, talking quietly amongst themselves. the women are gorgeously radiant, and if this were any other time i’d compare their beauty to mine. 
instead, i linger on the way they interact with their husbands, boyfriends, whatever. small touches, whispers, and smiles all burn into my mind like a useless cd. 
“y/n l/n?” a nurse in all blue interrupts my thoughts, she gestures for me to follow her and i do. 
like the waiting room, the small room i’m brought into is cold. i wonder briefly what jacks doing right now. if he had gotten my message or if he’s still asleep. i try to imagine his reaction but i can’t bring myself to conjure up an accurate depiction of him. everything is off - and i fear if i keep trying to imagine this man who’s not my jack, that i’ll somehow forget the real one. 
“we’re just going to do some tests, all very basic things. i need to know your medical history, and i’ll have to do a complete physical assessment,” a doctor walks into the room, clipboard in hand. she doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but I absentmindedly nod to her words anyway. 
“Okay so, is this your first pregnancy?” the doctor asks. 
“Yes” i nod.
“And, do you have any medical history I should be aware of? Past procedures, family history, etc” the doctor looks up from their notes and i pause. 
“Uh, i -” my cell phone buzzes in my purse and i quickly reach for it. Its a notification from sephora, something about how there’s a last minute sale and that i should buy some overpriced body spray. 
“I had my tonsils taken out when I was five, but other than that i’ve had no other procedures” my words come out shaky, as if i’m confused. i turn my phone over again, willing for another notification to pop up. It’s 11:40am, and jack is definitely awake by now. 
the doctor calls a nurse in to prep for the examination. everythings a blur as i lean back. the nurse, short with reddish-blonde hair, has to ask me to lift up the bottom of my shirt twice. 
“And if you look over here, this is where your baby is,” the doctor is confident in her speech as she shifts the little wand around my stomach. 
the appointment was nightmarish. 
the nurse sent me home with a little packet of information sheets, all different colours and all about different things. i don’t want to look at them, so i shove them into the bottom of my purse when i get out of the office. 
⋆ ★
vivienne always made sure to wake up an hour before jack. she liked to make herself a fancy coffee with her espresso machine, and she liked to plan out her events for the day. she had decided that they’d go to the grocery store sometime before noon, hit the mall for an outfit to wear to dinner, and then of course dinner with viviennes friends at 7. 
after her coffee, Vivienne tiptoed her way back into her bedroom. she was proud of the fact that Jack liked to stay here. she made sure her bedding was always fresh and clean when he was over, and she made sure to spray a little bit of her perfume on his pillows so he’d get used to falling asleep to the scent of her. 
Vivienne grabbed a hold of Jack's phone on his nightstand, and slowly slid it off the side of the table and into the palm of her hand. she turned it over, bombarded with the amount of notifications that littered his phone screen. she slid up, quickly typing his passcode. she had to be mindful of her next moves. she didn’t have long to do her routine digging. 
“It’s not really fair for you to be with vivienne if you still have feelings for y/n”
“will you drop it? you were the one who told me to go for viv”
“Jack-”
“No! Dawson, you were the one who begged me to move on. I am. What happened with me and y/n-"Jack cuts himself off. “what happened.. It’s done now. leave me alone” 
Vivienne recalled the conversation she overheard a few weeks ago and she couldn’t shake it from her mind. So, she did what any girlfriend would do and searched the girls username on instagram. 
She hadn’t thought y/n would be any type of problem in hers and Jack's relationship. That was until Jack and Vivienne were laying in bed, with Jack wanting to show Vivienne a picture he had taken a while ago on a roadie. He was scrolling past his photo albums when she saw it. The “it” being a photo album titled “❤️” filled with pictures of jack and y/n at art galleries and whatnot. 
Ynuser: 1 dm request
Accept | Delete
Vivienne clicked onto the dm, and when she saw the words pregnant and yours her blood ran cold. She angled her body away from Jack, and with his reassuring snores clouding her mind, she reread the dm again. 
Jack, I don't even know how to tell you this. It doesn’t feel right. But, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’ve booked an appointment with my obgyn for tomorrow and they’re going to confirm the test for me. You're the only person that I've been with since we’ve gotten together so it’s for sure yours. If you need a paternity test or anything at all just let me know and we can sort it out. Please reach out and we can talk about this in person. I’m sorry.
“Fuck” Vivienne cursed as she clicked Jacks phone off. She turned around and stared at the man in question while debating her options. 
Letting Jack find the message on his own was the most obvious answer but… would he still want to be with her when he found out about the baby? If it even is his, Vivienne rolled her eyes at the thought. 
The next logical option was to delete the message and block the girl. Jack would never have to know, and Vivienne would just have to be the perfect girlfriend for the next little while. She’d make him his favourite foods, dress extra hot, and do everything in her power to make sure he forgot about his ex. 
Vivienne turned Jack's phone on again, and without a second thought, swiftly declined the message request before blocking the girl. 
To make sure her tracks were completely cleared, she searched the girls name up in his contact list and blocked her there as well. 
And, just as quickly as Vivienne had picked up her boyfriends phone, she had set it back down. 
⋆ ★
After the appointment, I was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day with no opportunities to check my phone. During my appointed bathroom breaks, I was too anxious to check. My hands trembled as I hovered over the instagram app, too nervous to see if he had read the message. 
I thought about the next message that I would send all day. Would I send the doctors confirmation? My next appointment date? The reason why I found out about the pregnancy so late? 
When I got out from work, I decided to walk the 45 minutes home instead of taking the Subway. I hoped that the semi-fresh air would clear my mind. 
By the time I unlocked the front door of my apartment, it was 6:45pm. Jack would have gotten out of practice, and he would probably be at home grilling himself a piece of chicken while his rice cooked. 
I pull my boots off and wander into my bathroom. i shut the door behind me, giving myself some privacy from my own space. When I close my eyes, all the memories of Jack and I flicker through my mind like one of those plastic children's cameras.
I take a deep breath, before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket and turning it on. I click into instagram and my stomach drops. 
jackhughes
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what the fuck was i going to do.
⋆ ★
“Claudia!” my voice was hoarse from crying as I pounded on my best friend's door with my fists. I had run all the way to Claudia's apartment, and luckily someone was walking into her apartment complex so I didn't have to buzz in. 
Claudia's door swung open, and she immediately pulled me inside and into her arms. “What's wrong?” she practically cooed, not a stranger to my breakdowns. 
“J-jack he-” I couldn't stomach the rest.
“Babe, slow down… breathe..” Claudia stressed as she started doing breathing exercises for me to copy. I followed her movements, and when I was deemed calm enough she moved me over to sit on her couch. 
I take a few minutes to recover before explaining what happened. 
“I’m going to kill him” Claudia sneered after I had explained the pregnancy, the message, and how my ex boyfriend-turned-baby daddy had blocked me. 
“What am I going to do?” I was crying again. I was bordering on exhaustion as I leaned my head against the back of Claudia's couch and wailed.  
My hand found its place at the top of my stomach, where the faintest baby bump had begun to form. 
⋆ ★
vivienne just added to their story!
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vivienne
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liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, alixearle, and others
vivienne mr nhl man
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user01 VIVIENNE HAS A BF??
user02 viv baby who is it
user04 vivnation lost
user05 jack and trevor liking ohhh wow…
user06 is it jack?
user07 i thought jack has a gf?
user06 he was seen out with a girl a few times months ago but that was it lol
user08 the nhl girlies lost
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⋆ ★
ynuser
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liked by claudia, and others
ynuser my baby🤍
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claudia im a proud honorary aunt❤️
user00 congrats!! 
user01 Congratulations on your pregnancy sweetie! We have to get together sometime soon😘❤️
⋆ ★
the pregnancy was lonely. It was all long hours at work, quiet doctor appointments, and late nights binge sessions watching gossip girl with whatever craving plagued my mind. 
I tried my hardest to stay away from social media, my heart cracking a little more every time jack came across my feed with his rumoured new girlfriend. of course, i knew it wasn’t a rumour, which just made everything more miserable. 
“Do you want to know the gender?” the ultrasound tech asked as she shielded the sonogram screen away from my view. 
I nod, “yes, please”
Claudia squeezes my hand. “Are you sure? I can throw you a gender reveal party if you want? Or we can do something with just the two of us?” 
I didn’t want to hurt Claudias feelings, but it wouldn’t be the same without jack. 
I must have took too long to answer though, because the ultrasound tech looked at me with pity filled eyes as she said, “i’ll put the gender info in an envelope for you to take home”
All i could do was nod. 
⋆ ★
“Im sorry, blair.. But you lost the baby”
“where’s chuck?”
“B, he lost a lot of blood, and he never woke up” 
Gossip girl season 5 played in the background as I picked at my newest pregnancy craving, strawberry cupcakes from a bakery off seventh ave. 
i sighed heavily as i continued watching the show. this has got to be the saddest episode… i thought as blair started praying for chucks survival. As the scene went on, tears pricked my own eyes as i thought about the past five months. 
i was almost done with my 2nd trimester, and i was still refusing to acknowledge my pregnancy. I felt as if i were walking through water, i was restricted in all of my movements and my mind was cloudy like i had just spent all day in the michigan summer sun. 
The episode finished, with blair telling chuck that she loved him but that she couldn’t be with him and that she couldnt tell him why. 
When the screen turned black and i was faced with my reflection, i started sobbing. 
Heavy tears rolled down my cheeks and fell onto my duvet, which turned the cream coloured blanket into spots of grey. 
Without thinking, I rolled out of bed and threw on a thick sweater that I found strewn against a chair backing. I wandered out into my entryway, shoving on a pair of my mini uggs as I searched high and low for that stupid little envelope that my tech gave me. 
It was in my purse, hidden behind a hundred other little things. Once the envelope was grasped firmly in my hands, i ripped open my door and rushed down onto the street. 
I didn’t have a lot of time to think this through. If i placed the order now, everything would be okay and fine...
Truth be told, i was afraid that if i didn’t order a gender reveal cupcake that i would be doing my baby a disservice. I promised to myself that i would be able to do this without jacks support, and yet here i was crumbling under the pressure of motherhood. 
The bakery shop chimed with my arrival, and then i was in the small line up to make an order. 
“Hey, what can i get for you tod-”
“Can i get a gender reveal cupcake? Or one of those little cakes?” i ask, thrusting my envelope into the guy at the registers hands. 
He looked taken aback before responding very politely, “i’m sorry, you’re going to have to make an order online” 
“Oh,” my shoulders sag in disappointment. I hadn't thought far enough ahead. 
the guy stared at the crumpled up envelope in his hand, and then back at me. “Why don’t you go sit down and i’ll figure something out for you,” his voice was kind as he noticed my dishevelled state. 
I nod, and then move to an empty seat in the corner of the bakery. Another employee was sweeping the floors, and i realize that the store must be due to close soon. I need to pull myself together… 
About ten minutes later, the guy from before walked over with a little white box in his hand. On top of the box sat my envelope which was now cleanly cut into. 
“It’s not the prettiest thing in the world,” the guy chuckled as he placed the small box in front of me, “but it should work” 
“Thank you,” i stutter, pulling a crisp $10 bill out of my pocket and handing it over to the guy. 
At first he shakes his head in an attempt to decline the money, but I insist he takes it anyway. 
back at home, i get comfy at my kitchen table where i finally open up my box. It was a vanilla cupcake with white vanilla frosting. 
I take a deep breath before taking a small bite, and when i swallow, i see the remaining pink icing that filled the inside of the cupcake. 
“we’re having a little girl,” i whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as i rub my bump soothingly. 
⋆ ★
Jack Hughes was stuck. He felt bad for Vivienne and he felt bad for himself. It wasn’t Viviennes fault that his attention was elsewhere because on paper, Vivienne Aiden was probably who most would consider his perfect match. 
Vivienne was gorgeous, she had an online career going for her, and her apartment did smell amazing… but something just wasn’t right. 
When she fell asleep beside him, Jack would pull out his phone and scroll through his photo album full of pictures of his ex-girlfriend. He would wonder what she was doing, what new journalist piece she was working on, and most importantly, if she was happy. He couldn’t bear searching her up online, for fear of seeing she had moved on (which, let's be honest, is very hypocritical of him), so Jack settled with his photo album. 
When Jack finally closed his eyes for the night, he imagined the sleeping figure next to him was his y/n. Vanilla scent was swapped with coconut, a windy spring turned into an endless summer, and the lingering emptiness felt like coming home after a long roadie. 
And in the morning, when y/ns lovely green eyes woke him up, he would blink to find Vivienne staring back at him, and whatever relief he had accustomed himself with in sleep came crashing down again. 
⋆ ★
ynuser posted on their story! 
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jackhughes posted on their story!
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Vivienne posted on their story!
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⋆ ★
Vivienne wasn’t an idiot. she could feel the small shifts in Jack's behaviour. He was slowly distancing himself from her and she wouldn't allow that to happen. 
Therefore, she sent him a teasing photo, planned a romantic dinner at her apartment, and took care of business. 
Create an Account
User: user257483475
ynuser
Dm Request
User257483475: how does it feel knowing that you’re going to be a single mom?
User257483475: must be tough knowing that the daddy doesn’t want it
User257483475: if i were you i wouldn’t even try
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⋆ ★
“I can’t believe you're having a little girl!” Claudia squealed as she met me at the front of a baby store. I was now 6 months along, and I hadn’t done any of the necessary baby shopping yet. 
We walked into the store, light pinks and blues and purples clouding my vision. “I can't believe it either! A little girl…” I smile, picking up a little onesie. 
Claudia gets a basket, and we start to make our way through the store. “Have you thought of any names yet?” she asks as she holds up what might've been the cutest baby dress i’ve ever seen. 
I placed the dress in the basket. “I’ve been toying with a few names but it just feels strange” I pick up another little dress and put it in the basket as well. “I’m sure once I see the nursery all together it’ll feel a little more real and i’ll be able to pick something out” 
Claudia smiles at me sympathetically before taking the shopping basket out of my hand and guiding me towards the furniture section.
“I was thinking-” my phone buzzes causing me to pause. I pull out my phone, only to see a few instagram notifications. 
User257483475: viviennes so pretty, i bet you're real jealous huh?
User257483475: jack didn't even want to post you publicly and now he wont even acknowledge his baby… he never loved you.
User257483475: i wish you the worst xx
Read
“y/n? What were you thinking?” Claudia asks, immediately noticing my pause. She walks over to me, one hand on my shoulder as she tries to gauge my facial expressions. “Are you okay?”
I don't want to speak, and so I thrust my phone into Claudia's hands. 
She gasps when she reads the first message from a few weeks ago, and I can feel her tense beside me as she lets her hand drop from my shoulder.
“What the fuck!” she seethes as she stares at all the messages littering my phone.
“How do they know the baby’s Jacks? How do they even know I'm pregnant? My account’s private!” I utter as I close my eyes. 
“Who’s Vivienne?” Claudia asks as she switches out of my dms and onto the search page. I watch her type in Vivienne's name.
“She’s Jack’s girlfriend,” I reply just as Claudia presses on her instagram account. The newest picture on her feed was of her and Jack at some cafe… I felt nauseous. 
“Well, she’s obviously the one sending the messages” my best friend states firmly. Great I thought. Could my life get any more fucked up? 
That night at home, I easily verifiy that it was Vivienne behind the account. For all the scheming she liked to do, she wasn’t very good at covering her tracks. 
First, I used my laptop to try and log into her main instagram account. When I got the password wrong, I clicked the option for instagram to send a code for password resetting via email. The email, half unblurred, showed up on screen. Then, i moved onto the account who’s been sending me nasty messages. Repeated the process, and wouldn’t you know! Vivienne Aiden didn’t doesn’t know how to make a fake email for her fake account, that she uses to harass her boyfriend's ex! Nice. 
With that little confirmation, I blocked both her and the account she’s using to send me messages. 
⋆ ★
My baby’s nursery is painted a soft pink. Her crib is a beige wood, and there’s white flowy curtains with a blackout curtain set underneath. flower prints decorate the walls, and my baby’s name is highlighted on a beautiful homemade blanket which was gifted to me by one of my coworkers. 
“Are you ready, baby?” my mom asks to which I nod. I watch her silently as her hands weave between different sets of baby clothes.
She’s helping me get the nursery finished for babygirls birth next month. 
“I’m nervous, but i’m ready,” I smile, waddling over to the blush pink rocking chair that sits in the corner of the room. 
⋆ ★
“i’m not ready! i need jack!” i cry, squeezing my eyes shut tight as pain overtook my body. i could hear the nurses faintly in the background of my own thoughts, shouting something about an excess of blood. 
a group of nurses stand around me, all shouting different orders to one another. “ma’am you’re bleeding-“ 
“i need, i just need-“ 
a sweet looking nurse cut me off. “sweetie, you’re going to be alright. just breathe, i’ll be right here with you this whole time!” she grabs ahold of my hand to which i squeeze tightly. 
the room spins and my whole body feels cold. I could tell that the nurses started going about their business from all the pinching and poking that was going on, but i couldn’t figure out where all the pain was coming from.
⋆ ★
“Mommy?” I whispered. My mom whipped her head in my direction upon my words. 
“Oh sweetie,” she coos, tears lingering in her eyes as she sits on the edge of my hospital bed. she grabs ahold of my hand. 
“Is…” I start to ask about my daughter but a cry falls from my lips. 
My mom grabs my hand tighter and brushes my hair out of my face. “She’s in the NICU, but the nurses say she’s doing well” 
“Can I see her?” my voice is hoarse. My mom jumps up from the bed and fills an empty paper cup with water. She passes the cup to me, and I gratefully drink its contents. 
“I’ll go get a nurse, okay? She’ll tell you everything you need to know”
I had been asleep for roughly ten hours after my daughters birth. The doctor told me that the pain I woke up to last night was from blood clots, which is the reason behind all the blood and the premature birth. Luckily though, I was pretty close to full term, and I got to the hospital at the perfect time therefore babygirl would only have to stay at the NICU for a few short weeks to monitor her development. 
“what’s her name, sweetheart?” my mom whispered softly to me while her hand ghosted across hairline.
“Leighton Rowe LN,” I replied sleepily as I stared at my baby in my arms. Leightons sweet face suddenly made all the pain worth it.
my mom brushed my damp hair out of my face. “that’s beautiful,” she cooed, and when she gestured towards the baby I tiredly nodded.
as my mom took my baby out of my arms to coddle, i let my eyes close and then i softly drifted off to sleep.
⋆ ★
It was a few months later when it happened. claudia was at my apartment, watching leighton while i ran around the city to get some much needed errands done. i stop at my favourite coffee shop, a place that i hadn’t been to since jack and i broke up. 
i order my usual, a mocha to go, and when i turn to leave jack had just opened the door. I stumble back, not prepared to see jack in the flesh. He looks familiar and yet completely different. 
“y/n,” he greets me, his tone uncertain as he takes a step towards me. How dare he.
“If your girlfriend sends me one more fucking text i swear i’ll ruin her life” i start, my words threatening as i let the weight of viviennes words fall onto my shoulders. for months shes been creating new accounts and messaging me, and despite hitting the "block all and future accounts" feature she still managed to harass me.
“I get that you don’t want to have a baby, but she’s here, and I'm capable of doing it without you. I have been doing it without you. So get your girlfriend to stop harassing me or i’ll press charges,” i spit out, pushing past a shell-shocked jack and storming out onto the street. 
⋆ ★
“I have a baby!” jack shouts angrily, kicking one of vivienne's wooden dinning room chairs. “You hid my baby from me!” 
Vivienne stares, glassy eyed as she watches her boyfriend stomp around her apartment. “Jack, i didn’t mean for it to go this far i-”
“You what? What was the plan here?” he shouts again, running a hand frustratingly through his hair. Jack stops, whipping around to face vivienne again. “Show me the messages.”
“What?” she cries. 
“y/n said you were sending her messages. Show me them” jack repeats, causing vivienne to jump up in alarm. If he saw even half of the things she sent…
Jack storms up to vivienne who immediately pulls her phone out of her pocket. She switches onto one of her many burner accounts used to send y/n messages. 
Jack sat on the couch, hunched over while he read through every single message. He felt sick. 
he hates you
It must suck knowing that your child's dad doesn't want her
Jacks going to be the best daddy to our future baby… its too bad he didn’t want that for you. 
“Jack we can fix this, i swear i’ll do better and-”
Jack stood up abruptly, letting viviennes phone tumble to the ground with a loud thud. “We’re- we’re past done. I don't even know what to say to you,” jack stutters, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. 
“Baby, i’m so sorry” vivienne cries. she tries to reach out to jack, be he swats her hands away. 
Jack backs away, and without another word he leaves viviennes apartment with the slam of a door.  he had to make this right to y/n and his... baby.
-
part three
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hubbvrd · 12 days
Text
Protecting Boyfriend | Quinn Hughes
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summary — During the Canucks home game, a man says some not-so-nice words to you because you're wearing a Hughes jersey. When Quinn finds out, he does everything he can to protect you and makes sure you get the pep talk you need to hear
pairing — quinn hughes x reader
words — 2165
warning — not-so-nice- words
A wide smile formed on your lips as you entered the Rogers Arena.
Today would be the game against the Coyotes that you've been looking forward to for the past week.
You can't wait to support your boyfriend Quinn and the rest of the team live in person, and then at home, in your own stadium.
You slowly walk down the stairs to your seat, from which you have a perfect view of the entire field.
But from your seat you not only have a good view of the field, but also of the Canucks players who are seated not far from you.
That way, if your boyfriend wasn't on the field, you'd get a good look at number 43.
You can hardly wait for the stadium to fill up and the 1st period to begin.
In fact, it doesn't take too long before the stadium starts to fill up and various people fill the seats with their jerseys bearing the shirt numbers of their favorite players.
Today you are also wearing the blue Canucks jersey with Quinn's number on it, which you wear at every game you attend.
From the beginning, it was natural for you to show up at your games in his jersey and not to wear any expensive clothes to make your appearance at Quinn's games a kind of catwalk.
There were many wives or girlfriends of players who used the games to get themselves all dressed up and did half a shooting during the game to get likes and attention on Instagram or various other platforms.
But you've never been like this before. Supporting Quinn has always been your number one priority and that will never change.
"Hello," an older man in a Canucks jersey greets you as he sits down on the happy seat next to you.
"Hello," you reply in a friendly manner and give the man a friendly smile.
As your gaze begins to wander through the now full stadium and the noise level slowly rises, you feel a gaze on you.
Slowly, you turn your face in the direction of the man who had greeted you kindly just a few minutes ago.
Now there's a crinkled look on your face as he eyes you intently and begins to make you feel uncomfortable.
You've always been a little reserved around strangers, so the words that now leave your mouth surprise you.
"Is everything all right? Or is something wrong?"
The man begins to mumble something into his beard, which you can't understand due to the volume level.
"Excuse me? What did they say?" you ask as your heart starts to beat a little faster with nervousness.
You just want to watch the game in peace, without incident.
"I said that it's obvious that you're wearing a Hughes jersey of all things, like almost all the young women here."
"What makes you think that?"
The confusion was written all over your face. Of course you know that there are a lot of fans wearing the number 43 jersey, but there certainly weren't that many in the stadium just now.
"You young women now only pick players who look good. Most of you aren't even interested in the sport itself," he rants, causing you to look shocked.
You expected anything, but not this. What is wrong with this older man? And above all, what the hell did he have the nerve to say that to you?
Stunned, you start to shake your head and just as you've thought of the perfect answer, it gets loud and the teams enter the ice.
Probably better that way, because at least the man next to you was quiet and you could more or less enjoy the game.
Because you wouldn't let him ruin the day you've been looking forward to for a week.
The man had actually kept his mouth shut to you the whole game.
But when Quinn scored a goal and you, like several other fans, jumped up and cheered loudly, you heard other comments coming from his direction, but you couldn't hear them over the loud cheering and music.
Now the game is over, which the Canucks won 2-1.
A broad smile returns to your face, but it is immediately extinguished when the man next to you stands up and gives you an annoyed look.
"Well you fangirl? Did you even watch and understand the game? Or were you just undressing Hughes with your eyes?" His voice growls slightly, making you flinch and reflexively wrap your arms around your body.
This can't be true. Why can't the man just leave you alone and make his way home?
Even if you were just a fangirl who was only there because of Quinn, that wouldn't be his problem.
You just shake your head and leave your seat.
As you climb the stairs to get to the exit, you try not to let on too much how much the man has intimidated you and you're starting to panic.
It's all good, y/n. Just keep walking. You'll be with Quinn in a minute, you repeat the phrases over and over in your head as you leave the stadium, a light breeze blowing through your hair.
You breathe out deeply and close your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and mingling with the crowd of fans to get to the back of the stadium.
There you will meet Quinn so that you can finally embrace him and congratulate him on his victory.
As you reach the back entrance, where a barrier has already been erected in front of the exit and one or two fans are already waiting to intercept their favorite player, you look around.
So as not to get in the way of any of the fans, you stand in the corner of the barrier so that everyone else has enough space. After all, you're not there to get autographs or photos, but to wait for your boyfriend.
But luck was not on your side. A few seconds later, the man you just met stands next to you and looks at you with an annoyed expression.
"Well, are you trying to get your hands on Hughes?" There is disgust in his voice. He speaks so quietly that only you can hear him.
Your heart begins to hammer faster against your ribs as your hands claw at the barrier and you try to stay calm.
"Stop it," you whisper on the verge of tears, which makes you angry with yourself for showing the man weakness.
But you can't do anything about it. The words and the way he treats you start to burn on your soul and reopen some old wounds.
You don't have an answer ready, but if you were honest with yourself, no perfect answer would shut the man up.
As the first players come out of the stadium and start signing autographs and taking photos with their fans, you stand on tiptoe to get a better look at when Quinn will finally arrive.
Quinn was never one of the first to leave the dressing room and then the stadium, so it would be a while before he arrived.
You would survive these few minutes - hopefully.
"Don't get your hopes up, sweetie. Hughes would never take you home," the man laughs as he steps closer to you.
"If they only knew..." You mumble, unaware that you've just spoken your thoughts out loud as you take a step to the side to put more distance between you.
"Excuse me?" the man hisses.
"I said, if they knew," you start and then gather all your courage for the next words that leave your mouth. "He's my boyfriend."
The man next to you starts to laugh out loud, attracting the attention not only of the other fans, but also of one or two of the players.
Confused, Dakota, Conor and Elias look in your direction. It took a few seconds for the three's eyes to grow wide as they recognize you and realize what's happening right in front of them.
"Hey, man. Do you want an autograph too?" Dakota asks as he approaches you and the man.
Dakota gives you a warm and gentle look, trying to make you realize that everything is going to be okay.
"Oh, I'd love to!" The man beams now and starts to engage Dakota in a conversation in which he is overly friendly.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Elias run back into the stadium, followed shortly afterwards by Quinn.
Relief spreads through your body as you spot Quinn, who looks anything but pleased.
He looks angry.
Elias must have summarized everything for Quinn.
Several fans start yelling for Quinn, but he only has eyes for you.
He approaches you with quick steps, puts his hands on your hips and lifts you over the barrier.
"Are you okay, babe?" You ask him as you feel his tense muscles under the suit.
"I should ask you if you're okay, if anything. Why didn't you say anything?" Quinn looks down at you with a worried expression.
"I couldn't have said that during the game..." you begin, but are immediately interrupted by Quinn.
"But during the break. You could have texted me or come to the dressing room."
Quinn strokes your hair gently as he continues to look at you with concern.
His muscles relax slightly under your hand, which is still on his chest.
But you know that won't last long.
"I wouldn't take her home tonight!" A voice calls out, making you flinch.
Immediately, Quinn's muscles tense again as his face becomes angry again and his hands automatically clench into fists.
"Quinn..." You begin, but Quinn doesn't seem to hear you at all.
He gently pushes you over to Elias, who has become like a big brother to you over the last few years, when you've spent a lot of time with him and Quinn.
"Elias..." You mumble anxiously as you look up at the blond.
"Don't worry, y/n. He won't do anything stupid," Elias promises you, but you're not even sure if you can really believe his words.
From a safe distance, you watch Quinn more or less stumble the man together.
As you do, you pick up a few scraps of words, like "My girlfriend...She doesn't deserve this...Greatest person on earth...Our team doesn't need fans like you..."
It's not long before the man is taken away by security and Quinn returns to you.
Sniffling, you throw yourself into his strong arms, which he wraps tightly around you and presses you gently against him.
"I'm sorry," Quinn mumbles into your hair.
"It's not your fault," you sniffle as you look up at him and see a few tears in his eyes.
"But he hurt you and said things to your head that no one should ever hear. And if you get hurt, it hurts me here too."
Quinn reaches for your hand and places it where his heart is.
"Oh, Quinn..." you whisper as countless tears begin to roll down your cheeks.
He was incredibly sweet to you and now, after you had to hear those nasty and caustic words from the man, he made sure that you were moved to tears.
"If that happens again - which I hope it doesn't. Would I like you to come straight to me, Elias or another one of my colleagues, yes?"
Quinn looks you in the eye and then kisses your forehead.
"I promise," you murmur as you snuggle back into his arms and enjoy his strong, warm arms.
All the words that had hurt you just a moment ago disappeared as if by magic while you were in Quinn's arms and enjoying his closeness.
"I want you to forget all those words that man banged on your head, y/n. You know none of those words are true. I know it's hard to get these words out of my head, but I hope they help you. You're the best person I've ever met. You are the love of my life. You're always there for me, you make me feel better no matter how bad I'm feeling, you make me laugh and just your presence makes me feel good. I love you y/n and I could go on and on, but then we'd be here until tomorrow and I hope these words help you forget all the crap he's thrown at you."
His words caused a tear or two to roll down your cheeks. You were touched by how lovingly he treated you and had the perfect words to make you feel better.
And Quinn's words actually manage to put all the man's words out of your head once and for all.
Quinn was not only your friend, but also your protector.
Even though you do this side of him and you like how protective he is of you, you hope that something like today won't happen again.
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avawritesthings · 22 days
Text
homecoming | jh86
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✦ word count - 1,736
✦ summary - jack goes out to celebrate a win with his teammates, and he stumbles home drunk; y/n takes care of his drunk, whiny ass
✦ warnings - a little bit of suggestive content :)
✦ ava’s notes - i used the prompts “Will you play with my hair?” and “Let’s make a deal, one kiss and I’ll do whatever you want.” for this fic <3 (not very edited)
nhl masterlist
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RAPID KNOCKS ECHOED throughout your apartment, and you groaned. You hear voices from beyond your apartment door, and could distinctly hear Nico and Luke talking to each other, or someone else. After getting up off of the couch and unlocking the door, you were faced with quite a sight. 
An arm on each of Nico and Luke’s shoulders, and a very, very drunk Jack in between them.
You sighed a deep breath and pursed your lips, seeing Jack’s face light up at the sight of yours. He leaned forward and before he could faceplant, you placed your hands on his waist to steady him. 
“I’m so so sorry Y/N,” Luke rushed out, running a hand through his unruly curls. You felt Jack nuzzle into the crook of your neck and sigh. “I didn’t think he’d get this drunk, I swear. And he was begging to see you…” He trailed off. 
“It’s fine, Luke, I swear,” You breathe out, still holding onto a wobbly, and probably dizzy, Jack. “He can stay the night, not a problem. I’ll see you guys later? It was nice to see you, both of you!” 
Nico nodded with a slight smile. “We’ll see him at practice tomorrow. Thank you, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver. And, sorry again.”
You wave your hand in a no problem way and send a smile their way. Once Jack is through the threshold of your apartment, the guys wave goodnight and close the door for you. 
“Hiiiiii Y/N,” Jack says through a dopey smile. You can’t help but send a grin his way. Yes, he woke you up from almost falling asleep, but it’s worth it. 
“Hey, babe,” You smiled, walking backwards to lay him on the couch. “Did you have fun?” You asked, and he nodded sleepily. As he dramatically laid down, you brushed yourself off and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and two ibuprofen. 
You place the glass and pills on the coffee table in front of him, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you down to him. His face lit up again at the sight of you and Jack giggled.
You can feel his breath against your cheek and can smell the alcohol radiating from him. He was warm and pliant, and his lips were so, so soft. Jack wrapped his arms around you, and you moved closer to him. Your hand found its way to his jaw, and your thumb was caressing his skin.
Jack broke the kiss and sighed against your lips, and you felt him pull you impossibly closer. Your body was pressed up against his, and you felt him wrap his legs around you.
His eyes were closed, and his nose was touching yours. His lips were still touching yours and you couldn't help but lean forward again, kissing him and smiling against his lips.
You were straddling his lap, and one of your hands was on the arm of the couch, steadying you. The other was resting at the nape of his neck, playing with his hair, and his grip on your waist tightened.
His lips were moving against yours, and his tongue darted out. You smiled, opening your mouth slightly, and let him explore your mouth. You felt his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, and you moved even closer, feeling his hard-on against your thigh.
Jack moved his head away and groaned, letting his head fall onto the back of the couch. You smiled, knowing that he was getting too worked up.
"Y/N..." He whined, and you laughed.
"Shhhh, you're okay, Jack. Come on, let's watch some TV, hm?" You asked, and he nodded, a dopey smile taking over his lips.
Jack nestled himself into the corner of the couch, snuggling against you. You smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around him. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as your show came to its end. 
As you admired his side profile, he suddenly spoke. “Will you play with my hair?”
You feel your cheeks flush and you immediately comply, running your fingers through his long hair. Jack sighs in contempt. He was likely drunk out of his mind, he was never this openly affectionate with you. 
“I love you,” He whispers out, and you look down to make eye contact with him. You feel a slight grin tug at your lips before you return the sentiment. 
“You’re so pretty,” Jack said, his speech slurred with alcohol and love. 
“I think you had too much to drink tonight, Jack,” You teased. “You’re talking bullshit.”
“Not bullshit,” He affirms. “You’re just so pretty and I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re always taking care of me and I just love you.”
Jack looked up at you like you hung the moon and stars, and you felt your eyes sparkle with the utmost of love for him. “Give me a kiss,” You announce, and he happily closes his eyes while you lean down, uncomfortably, and give him several quick pecks on his lips. He hums contently into the kisses.
After a few moments or so, you let him go and he rests his head back on your shoulder. The grip he had on your shirt loosens and he lets his arm fall to wrap cozily across your stomach.
Soon enough, you feel your legs start to go numb from staying in the same position. You pat the side of his face lightly before his eyes snap open, making eye contact with you. 
“Can we go to the bedroom? My-“
Before you can finish your sentence, you see a smirk start to form on his face. “Oh, you wanna take me to the bedroom huh? What d’ya wanna do?”
“Shut up, you idiot,” You say fondly. The bed is calling my name, and evidently yours as well.”
Jack sits up rather quickly, and the room is no doubt spinning for him. You can see his eyes trying to adjust to the quick change in position. Jack quickly takes the two pills and gulps down the water as you walk towards the bedroom. 
“Let’s make a deal,” He starts off and you turn back around, intrigued. “One kiss and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Rolling your eyes, you walk back over to him and press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“C’mon Jack,” You hold out your hand, and he grabs it to help him stand up, but not before bringing your hand to his lips and sloppily kissing your knuckles. You clasp his hand in yours and haul him up from the couch.
Jack stumbles slightly, but your tight grip on his hand keeps him steady. You walk him to your bedroom and once he’s past the threshold, he immediately flops down onto your bed and starfishes. You giggled at his dramatics.
You quickly take off his shoes, wanting to get into bed and fall asleep. Jack groaned out when he heard you leave the room, flopping around until his head landed on a soft pillow. You took in the sight of him: fully dressed, hair disheveled, and seconds away from falling asleep in your bed. 
“Jack,” You whisper, running your hand over his hair. He turned to face you and his blurry eyes locked onto whatever he could, that ‘whatever’ being your face. His eyes scanned your face, from your eyes to your nose, to your gentle smile and flushed cheeks. 
“Jack, c’mon, we gotta get you ready for bed,” He grumbles to himself before lifting off of the bed and stomping over to the bathroom. 
You walk in and see him sitting on the toilet seat cover. “Brush my teeth f’me please Y/N,” he rushes out, wanting to get into bed as soon as possible. 
“Okay, you man-child,” You scold playfully, and you grab his toothbrush, wet it, add some toothpaste, and go through the motions of brushing his teeth. Once finished, you have Jack rinse his mouth out, and before you could say anything, he immediately jumped into bed. 
“Too tired,” He whines. “Let me sleep.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” You chuckle, and you quickly change into your pajamas. Once you got him settled in bed, he tugged on your arm, and you complied, climbing into bed and cuddling into his side. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. You were lying with your head on his chest, and you could hear his heart beating.
In typical Jack fashion, he slides a hand over your breast, always needing to hold one before nodding off to sleep. You run your hand over his hair again and shortly after, you hear light snores coming from his mouth. 
“I love you,” You hear him whisper out into the dark. 
The next day, Jack groans loudly. You stir awake, not expecting the loud noise. He was still lying next to you, his head covered by a pillow.
"What the fuck," He groans out, and you turn on your side, facing him. You rest your hand on his hip, and rub a circle on the exposed skin.
"Hi, sunshine," You say softly.
"Why does it feel like I've been hit by a fucking truck," Jack whines, and you laugh at him. "Y/N, it hurts."
"You got yourself into this mess," You remind him, and he sighs.
"Can I have some water?" He asks, his voice hoarse.
"I'll be right back," You whisper, getting out of bed and heading towards the kitchen.
You fill up a glass of water and get a bottle of Tylenol. As you walk back to the room, you hear him talking, presumably on the phone.
“Yeah, Luke, I’m fine. Y/N took care of me.”
Jack stops talking, and you take that as a sign to walk into the room. He smiles when he sees you.
"Alright, I'll talk to you later," Jack says, and he ends the call, dropping his phone onto the bed. "Thank you," He says, and he takes the pills from you.
Before you could sit down next to him, he pushes you down gently and you feel him wrap an arm around your waist, his head resting on your chest. You run your fingers through his hair, and his breathing starts to even out.
"G’night, Y/N," He mumbles.
"Night, Jack," You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 
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