#jack hughes fanfiction
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Does He Know
Part 2
Word Count - 3023
The bedroom was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the nightstand and the distant hum of traffic outside the window. The once-comforting space now felt cold and unfamiliar, as if the revelation of Vince's cheating had tainted every corner of their shared life.
Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, the revelation of Vince's betrayal pressing down on her like a physical force. The hotel receipt lay crumpled in her hand even days after the discovery, the damning evidence of his infidelity a tangible reminder of the shattered trust between them.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the tracks of her tears still glistening on her cheeks. Her normally vibrant face was pale and drawn, the light in her eyes dimmed by the pain and confusion swirling in her heart. She stared blankly at the floor, the plush carpet blurring before her as fresh tears welled up, obscuring her vision.
Vince stood in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched in a posture of guilt and remorse. He watched Y/N, his heart aching at the sight of her so broken and lost. The urge to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and beg for forgiveness, was overwhelming, but he hesitated, unsure if his touch would be welcome.
"Y/N," he said softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, talk to me. It’s been a week and you haven’t said a word. I ended things with her, I want to put you first. We can work through this. You know I love you."
Y/N's head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and anguish. "You love me?" she repeated, her voice raw and trembling. "How do we work through the fact that you betrayed me, that you broke our vows, that you..." her voice broke, a sob tearing from her throat. "How could you do this to me, to us? You told me you wanted to have a family and the next day you go and cheat."
Vince took a tentative step into the room, his hand outstretched in a gesture of supplication. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "It was a mistake, a moment of weakness. I was feeling insecure and went out to find something to fix it. It didn't mean anything more than that, I swear."
Y/N shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping her lips. "It meant something to me," she said, her voice barely audible. "It meant everything to me. Our marriage, our love, our future... it was all a lie."
Vince crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping to his knees before her, his hands reaching for hers. Y/N flinched at his touch, pulling away, the hotel receipt fluttering to the floor between them. The sight of it, lying there like a boundary, a divide, was too much for Vince to bear.
"Please," he begged, his voice thick with tears. "Don't give up on us. I know I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but please, don't let this be the end."
Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his face, looking for some glimmer of the man she had loved, the man she had trusted with her heart. But all she saw was a stranger, a man capable of deceit and betrayal. The pain in her chest intensified, a physical ache that took her breath away.
"I don't know if you deserve that," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I don’t want to trust that."
Vince's shoulders slumped, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow. He bowed his head, tears dripping onto the carpet. Y/N watched him, her own heart breaking, torn between the love she still felt for him and the unbearable pain of his betrayal.
…
Y/N sat at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. The cursor blinked mockingly, the empty document a reflection of the emptiness she felt inside. Her eyes drifted to the small slip of paper tucked beneath a stack of files, the edges peeking out invitingly. Jack's number. She had taken it on a whim at their last family gathering, not really intending to use it, but now...
Before she could second-guess herself, Y/N reached for the paper, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the number into her phone. She held her breath as it rang once, twice, three times.
"Hello?" Jack's voice was slightly breathless, as if he had been in the middle of something.
"Jack? It's Y/N. I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Y/N bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.
"Y/N! No, no, it's fine. I just got out of practice, that's all. What's up?" Jack's tone was warm, friendly, and Y/N felt herself slightly relaxing.
"I was just wondering if you might want to grab a coffee later? I could use a friendly face and some good conversation." Y/N held her breath, waiting for his response.
"How could I possibly refuse coffee with such a beautiful woman?" Jack's voice was playful, teasing, and Y/N found herself laughing despite herself. She didn’t even remember the last time Vince called her beautiful or anything romantic at all for that matter.
"Great. How about that little place on Main Street, say around 4?" she asked.
"It's a date then. I'll see you there." With a click, the line went dead, and Y/N found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement in her stomach. The sound of the office door opening startled her, and she looked up to see Vince standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked, his tone slightly accusatory.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering. "A family friend, Jack. We're going to grab coffee later."
Vince's face darkened, his jaw clenching. "Really, Y/N? You're going to start hanging out with other guys now? I thought we were supposed to be working on our marriage, not complicating things further."
Y/N felt a spark of anger flare in her chest. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Vince when I’m not even sure I wanna be with you. You're the one who complicated our marriage by sleeping with someone else for four months. I'm just trying to find a little bit of independence outside of you and support where I can."
Vince ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I hurt you. But you trying to get even with me is not allowed. I'm trying to be there for you. Running off with some other guy who just wants to sleep with you isn't going to solve anything."
Y/N stood up, her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not running off with anyone, Vince. I'm having coffee with a friend. And frankly, I don't think you have any right to tell me who I can and can't spend time with, not after what you did. I will continue doing whatever the hell I want."
Vince opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N cut him off. "I can't do this with you right now, Vince. I need some space, far, far away from you. And I need to know that I have people in my life who I can count on, who I can trust. Right now, that's not you."
She grabbed her phone and pushed past him, ignoring the stricken look on his face. As she walked out of the office, she felt a sense of lightness, of freedom. She knew that her problems with Vince were far from over, that they had a long way to go if they were ever going to rebuild what they had lost.
…
They settled into the plush, worn leather armchairs, the rich burgundy color a warm contrast to the pale green walls of the cozy coffee shop. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large picture window, casting a golden glow over the polished wooden tabletops and the colorful artwork that adorned the walls.
Across from her, Jack leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He was dressed in a fitted navy blue henley that accentuated his broad shoulders and a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged his lean hips.
The gentle hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine created a soothing ambiance, a welcome respite from the chaos of her personal life. "So there I was, standing in the middle of the pet store, covered in dog food, and this little old lady comes up to me and says, 'Young man, I think you've got something on your shirt.'" Jack's voice was rich and warm, with a hint of mischief that made Y/N smile despite herself.
She laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and she felt some of the tension that had been coiled tight in her chest start to loosen. It felt good to laugh, to forget about her troubles for a moment and just enjoy the company of a friend.
Y/N cradled her mug of steaming hazelnut latte in both hands, the heat seeping into her skin and the rich, nutty aroma filling her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, before taking a small sip. The creamy, slightly sweet liquid coated her tongue, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the flavor and the warmth wash over her.
When she opened them again, she found Jack watching her, his gaze intense and focused. He had one elbow propped on the table, his chin resting on his hand, and he was leaning forward slightly, as if drawn to her.
"You know, Y/N," he said softly, his voice low and intimate, “He doesn’t know how lucky he is does he? To be married to someone so gorgeous and interesting as you. He must always let you down, he probably doesn’t even buy you flowers or cook dinner. you're handling it with such grace and resilience."
Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck at his words, and she glanced down at her mug, suddenly shy. "that’s what happens when men aren’t in love with you anymore," she murmured, tracing the rim of the cup with her finger. "And I’m not handling it gracefully at all. Most days, I feel like I'm barely keeping it together."
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Jack said, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. "And you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, whenever you need me."
Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. There was something in Jack's gaze, in his touch, that made her feel seen, understood in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and she found herself leaning closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
"Thank you, Jack," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. "That means more to me than you know." Jack smiled, a slow, warm curve of his lips that made Y/N's stomach flip.
They sat there for a moment, lost in each other's gaze, the rest of the world fading away until it was just the two of them, connected by a thread of understanding and attraction that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.
Finally, Y/N pulled her hand away, breaking the spell. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the other patrons in the coffee shop, the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation rushing back in. "We should probably find somewhere more quiet," she said, glancing at her watch. "It’s getting crowded in here."
As they left the coffee shop, Jack suggested a walk along the nearby beach. Y/N readily agreed, eager to feel the salty breeze on her face and the sand beneath her feet. They strolled along the shore, their shoulders brushing occasionally, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks a soothing rhythm.
Y/N found herself opening up to Jack in a way she hadn't with anyone else, not even Vince. She told him about the struggles in her marriage, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued her even before Vince's betrayal. Jack listened intently, his brow furrowed in concern, his hand occasionally reaching out to give hers a comforting squeeze.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they settled down on the sand, side by side, watching the stars slowly emerge in the darkening sky. Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in longer than she could remember.
She glanced over at Jack, only to find him already staring at her, his gaze intense and filled with an emotion she couldn't quite name. Y/N's heart skipped a beat, a flutter of something dangerous and exciting stirring in her chest.
"You know," Jack said softly, his voice barely audible over the crash of the waves, "Vince is a fool for not realizing what he had in you. You deserve so much better, Y/N. You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will put you first, always."
Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself leaning closer, drawn in by the magnetism of Jack's presence.
"And who might that someone be?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack's hand was warm and slightly rough against Y/N's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gesture intimate and possessive. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she leaned into his touch. “I think you know," he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this was wrong, knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but in that moment, with the stars shining above them and Jack's touch setting her skin on fire, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
"Are you happy with him?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky. "I can do so much more for you than just make you happy."
Y/N shuddered at his words, a heat blooming in her core. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself drawn to Jack like a moth to a flame. His presence was intoxicating, his gaze hypnotic, and she felt herself falling under his spell.
"I..." Y/N's voice trailed off, her thoughts scattered and jumbled. She couldn't think straight, not with Jack's hand on her face and his body so close to hers. "I don't know anymore. Things with Vince are so complicated, so broken. I don't know if we can ever go back to the way things were."
Jack leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. "Then don't go back," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Move forward. With me."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a thrill of excitement and fear running through her. She knew that what Jack was offering was dangerous, that it could destroy what little was left of her marriage. But there was a part of her, a part that had been buried for so long, that yearned for the passion and excitement that Jack promised.
"Jack," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't. I'm still married. I made vows."
Jack's hand slid down to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Vows that Vince already broke," he reminded her, his tone gentle but insistent. "You deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deserve to be with someone who will cherish you, who will put you first."
Y/N's resolve wavered, her body responding to Jack's touch even as her mind screamed at her to stop. She knew that what he was saying made sense, that Vince had shattered their vows the moment he had slept with another woman. But still, she hesitated, torn between her desire for Jack and her sense of loyalty to her husband.
"I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so confused, so lost."
Jack's other hand came up to cup her face, tilting her chin up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "Let me guide you," he murmured, his gaze intense and filled with promise. "Let me show you what it's like to be truly loved, truly desired."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. She knew that she was standing on the edge of a precipice, that if she took this step, there would be no going back. But with Jack's hands on her skin and his words echoing in her ears, she found herself wanting to take that leap, to give in to the desire that had been building between them for weeks.
Slowly, tentatively, Y/N leaned in, her lips parting slightly. Jack met her halfway, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as she pressed her body against his.
For a moment, the world fell away, and there was nothing but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace. Y/N knew that there would be consequences, that she would have to face the fallout of her actions. But in that moment, with Jack's lips on hers and his hands roaming her body, she couldn't bring herself to care.
All that mattered was the fire that Jack had ignited within her, the passion and desire that had been missing from her life for so long.
…
#fluff#angst#new writers on tumblr#masterlist#new fic#x reader#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes smut#timo meier#njd#new jersey devils#luke hughes#dawson mercer#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes masterlist#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x sister!reader#jh86
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Just Friends
Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader
summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(
Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.
You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”
He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”
Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.
You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.
“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.
Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”
Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.
“Don’t,” he whispers.
Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“
“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”
He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.
“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.
You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”
He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.
…..
Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.
Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.
He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.
Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.
When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.
Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.
“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”
“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”
“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”
“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”
Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.
…..
The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.
It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.
He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.
He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.
He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.
It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.
You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”
Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”
That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.
He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.
“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”
He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”
He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.
The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”
You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.
You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.
He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.
…..
It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.
He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.
“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“
“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”
“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”
Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.
“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.
He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.
His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.
Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.
He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.
“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.
You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”
God, he wishes.
…..
Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.
They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.
There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.
When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.
“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”
He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”
You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”
Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.
“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“
He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.
“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”
He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.
“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”
God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.
…..
Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.
He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.
“You’re here,” he says, quietly.
Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”
He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.
“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”
He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.
“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.
He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.
“You’re pretty,” you say back.
He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”
“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.
“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.
“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.
“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”
If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.
You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”
And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.
You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”
He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”
It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.
You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”
He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“
Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.
“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”
By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.
“She can stay,” Jack says.
You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.
He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.
“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.
Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.
Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”
Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.
“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.
He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”
You nod. “I know.”
He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“
You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”
Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.
“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”
You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”
That’s enough for Jack, for now.
He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.
“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.
You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.
“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”
When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.
…..
He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.
Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”
Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”
“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”
He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.
He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.
He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.
“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.
“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”
You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.
a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!
#jack hughes x reader#jack Hughes x you#Jack Hughes fic#jack Hughes fanfic#Jack Hughes fluff#Jack Hughes fanfiction#jack Hughes imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#hockey fic#honey writes#jh86
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ANGRY INSIGHT
WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, spanking, mentions of masturbation, public sexual acts, exhibitionist kink, etc. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader asks Jack Hughes to take his anger out on her.
Jack didn't say anything as they left the Prudential Center, pausing so he could pull his hoodie on before going out into the chilly parking lot. He didn't say anything when they got to his Range Rover, though he slammed the trunk a little harder than strictly necessary after putting his hockey bag in it.
Y/N didn't push it, assuming he might want a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but when he still hadn't said anything after they’d left the arena and were about to turn onto the highway, she had enough.
"So, that was different.” Y/N said.
Jack still didn't speak for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and let it out. "Just say it, Y/N."
"Say what?"
His jaw clenched as he slowed at a stop sign and he went silent again. Annoyed, she waited until he'd turned, then folded her arms and looked at him as he drove.
"Say what, Jack?"
"That you hated it.” Jack snapped. "That you think I'm a complete asshole. Or that you're questioning whether you want this to continue because you don't want a boyfriend who's aggressive and rough and all the things I know you don't like in a guy."
"What are you talking about?”
"You looked horrified.” He said. "And that was exactly what I thought would happen." Jack waved his hand slightly before grabbing the steering wheel again. "It's the one fucking place I can just let loose, but everyone thinks this is all I am. And now you're gonna think so, too."
"How do you know what I think if you haven't bothered asking me?" Y/N asked flatly.
He let out a dry chuckle. "Because I'm dreading what you're gonna say. But you still gotta say it, so just tell me you hated seeing me like that and that you're gonna leave me for someone who has a better way to deal with his anger."
Y/N looked at him, but he steadfastly kept his eyes on the road. "And what if I liked seeing you like that?" She finally asked.
Even in profile, she could see the lack of belief on Jack’s face. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life. There's no way you liked seeing me like that."
Faced with admitting it, Y/N hesitated. As guilty as she felt about it, she had enjoyed watching him play and getting rough with the other guys out there, at least for the first part. He'd dominated the game with a sort of graceful power that kept making her breath catch in her throat and visions of his hands pinning her down running through her mind.
The thing Y/N hadn't liked was watching him hurt another person, which he'd done because why? Because the guy knew he would. Because everyone in that arena except for her knew about Jack’s apparent anger on the ice. The man he'd punched had known that and played into it, purposely doing things that would trigger his temper and turn him into the pouty, sullen man currently in the driver's seat.
"I liked watching you play.” Y/N finally said, then turned so she was facing forward. "I didn't like that you're a sore loser."
Jack’s head snapped towards me. "What?"
"You're a sore loser.” She repeated, staring straight ahead.
He looked at the road again. "We didn't lose, we won. I scored two goals."
She shrugged. "Maybe your team won, but you got thrown out. If you had just let him talk his shit, he would've been thrown out and you wouldn't have. And now you can't play in the next game, right? The man beside me said you got suspended."
Jack’s jaw twitched. Y/N watched him from the corner of her eye, then looked out the passenger window.
"You're wrong if you think I have a problem watching you play rough. What I didn't like was watching you hurt someone on purpose because you were pouting about him being a jerk."
"I wasn't pouting.” He grumbled.
"You're pouting now."
"I'm not pouting, Y/N.” He repeated testily. "I can't help it, okay? This is just how I..." Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't even know, okay? This is the one place, the one thing that I can take out my anger on. Should I probably get help figuring out a better way to deal with it? Probably, yeah, but I haven't, and now it's probably gonna cost me you."
"How is this costing you me? I'm not breaking up with you. I told you, I liked what I saw.”
"You expect me to believe that?" Jack said. "You expect me to believe you, the person who hates it when people raise their voices at each other, let alone actually fight, liked watching me act like some kind of asshole taking out all his shit on the opposing team?"
"I liked watching you play.” Y/N clarified. "And yes, even the parts that were a little rougher. It was hot, Jack, okay? What wasn't hot was when you punched that guy just because you were angry." Her heart thudded in her chest and she bit her lip, not quite sure if she was going to say what was on her mind until the words began spilling out of her mouth. "So, instead of taking it out on some random player when he purposely pushes your buttons, maybe you can take some of it out on me."
Again, his neck twisted towards her so fast that she was worried he might get whiplash. She pretended not to notice, instead continuing to look out the window.
"What was that?" Jack asked in a flat, icy voice.
Her tongue felt very dry. "Maybe this is something I can help you with."
"What the fuck are you trying to say here, Y/N?"
"I..."
"Jesus Christ." Jack turned away, a shaky laugh escaping his throat. "You think I'm gonna hurt you? Fucking hit you?"
It was her turn to whip her head towards him. "Absolutely not."
"Then what the hell are you talking about?”
"Sex, Jack. I'm talking about sex."
"Sex.” He repeated heatedly, then frowned. "Sex?"
"Like, as a substitute."
"Rough sex, you mean."
Y/N could feel warmth creeping up her neck from the spot on her collarbone he always said turned pink first. "Yes."
"No."
"Why not?”
"Because I don't want to fucking hurt my girlfriend!" Jack snapped. "God, half the time I'm with you, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
"I'm not as delicate as you seem to think I am."
"And despite what you saw today, you seem to think I'm a hell of a lot more capable of controlling my anger than I actually am." He shook his head. "Just no, Y/N."
"Even though I was so turned on during the first part of your game that I was trying to figure out if there was somewhere on the way home you could pull over so we could fuck in your car?"
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Since when do you talk like this?"
The statement might have been bold, but her hands were definitely sweating. Y/N pressed them to her thighs and tried to pretend she knew where she was going with this.
"I told you," Y/N said. "It almost bothers me how much I enjoyed seeing you let loose and just become this sort of primal, animalistic man that I'd never seen before. I liked that they were a little scared of you. I'm sure that says something about me that I don't want to think about, but it's the truth."
His throat flexed as he swallowed.
"Then you got all pouty, and I didn't like that.” She continued. "So this could be like a solution for you. You could punch a guy in the face or you could save up all those frustrations and bring them to me at the end of the game."
His mouth was still partly open as he listened, soft puffs of breath escaping as he kept looking at the road ahead of him.
Y/N bit her lip, then grasped small handfuls of the fabric on her skirt. "Just think of it. Your next game, when some stupid jerk makes you mad, you can look up at me sitting in the stands and know that if you don't act like an asshole, you get to bring me home, pin me to the wall, and fuck me until I can't walk anymore. I think that would feel a little better than punching a guy, don't you?"
"No.” Jack finally said, his voice hoarse. "I mean, yes, but I can't do that to you."
"I mean, you could. If you wanted to."
"I don't want to."
She glanced down. "If you wanted me to believe that, you shouldn't have worn your gray sweatpants."
Jack dropped his hand to his lap, his face turning red as he tried to adjust himself so his erection was a little less prominent, but failing in the most successful way. "That isn't the kind of guy I am.” He said, his voice strained.
"It's the kind of guy you are at least once a week." Y/N looked down at his lap. "And it turns out, maybe once a week I'm the kind of girl who really, really likes that."
"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N.” Jack sounded frustrated, a pained look on his face. "I don't know why you would want me to. You saw how hard I hit that guy.”
"I'm not asking you to hurt me.” Y/N said. "I'm asking you to fuck me and take me however you want me. I know if it was too much, all I'd have to do is ask you to stop and you would. Because regardless of who you think you are when you're out on that ice, I know I can trust you."
Jack was silent, and she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she could say. Part of her was frustrated with him and part of her was feeling rejected. That part, along with most of the rest of her, was embarrassed she’d ever brought up her half-baked idea of using sex to help him get his frustrations out, which had been a cover up for the fact that she wanted it rough.
But Jack didn't, and that was fine, and maybe they both just needed to walk away from this conversation so they could go back to the way things were before she insisted she wanted to watch his game. Maybe it was naïve of her to hope for that, or maybe it was delusional, but regardless of what Jack had thought might happen when she saw him act the way he had, she didn't want to break up. She hoped he didn't, either, even though she knew he was frustrated with her.
Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice until after they’d turned that he'd switched lanes and taken them onto one of the many side roads along the highway. As fences and trees filled her view and something like worry filled her chest, she turned to him.
"Jack?" She asked nervously.
His throat flexed. "You said you trust me?"
Y/N had said that, and she had meant it. Swallowing, she nodded, then flattened her palms against her thighs again and watched as they went further and further down the road. A few minutes later, he turned onto another side road, and then another, until he found a road that was mostly hidden from view by trees on both sides.
Jack slowed when he saw one of those dead-end turnouts that led onto some field and pulled into it so the side of the Range Rover was blocked from the view of the road. Then, he turned off the vehicle and undid his seatbelt.
Jack glanced down at her lap, where fistfuls of fabric from her skirt were still balled in her hands. "You want me to fuck you?"
Oh. Oh, God. Her breath caught in her throat. "Here?"
"You said you wanted me to take you however I wanted you."
She had definitely said that, too. And she had very much meant it. "Uh-huh.” Y/N whispered.
"So yes, here." His voice was a low rumble. "Answer the question."
"What?”
"Now is the time to back out if you want to back out.” Jack said. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"
"Yes.” She said without hesitation.
"Then take off your fucking seatbelt."
Y/N immediately let go of her skirt and pressed the buckle, letting the belt slip away from her body. There wasn't even time for her to take a full breath before Jack grabbed her and pulled her over the console, guiding her so she was straddling his lap. She gasped in surprise, then jumped when a loud honk echoed through the abandoned air around them as her ass hit the horn on his steering wheel. She let out a startled laugh, but Jack didn't so much as smile; he reached under the seat and half a second later, he pushed the seat back as far as it would go and she jolted forward, slamming her chest against his.
One strong arm was around her in an instant, holding her hard against his body as the other hand went up to her neck. Jack pulled her head forward, capturing her mouth in a bruising hard kiss. An unintentional moan slipped out and he grunted, pushing his hips up so his bulge pressed against her mound.
"If you want me to stop," Jack mumbled against her mouth, "you say 'stop’ as loud as you can, the second you want me to. Otherwise, you're fucking mine. Understand?"
Y/N nodded. He sank his teeth into her bottom lip. "Say you understand."
"I understand.” She whispered breathlessly.
Jack bit down again and she whimpered, but he didn't release her lip until his hand shifted and moved up, his fingers slowly raking through the hair at the base of her neck. The steady, creeping motion of his hand sent a shiver of anticipation through her, her shoulders tensing as her breath came in short, excited puffs.
Then, all at once, Jack tightened his fist around her hair and tugged, making her gasp again and forcing her head back so her neck was revealed to him. He had complete command of her body, one strong arm still clutching her to his chest and her head immobile from how tight a grip he had on her hair.
One gentle kiss was placed at the base of her throat, a complete contradiction to the way he was holding her, but that tenderness didn't last. Maybe he was timing it, the beating of her heart forceful enough that he could feel her pulse beneath his lips, but it was just enough to remind them both of the person Jack truly was — sweet, kind, loving, and generous in all things before he submitted to the person he was on the ice.
A heartbeat after he kissed her neck, he buried his face against it, his teeth dragging along her skin, not quite biting but informing her without words that he very well could, if he wanted to. Jack flicked out his tongue, tasting every inch of her neck before deciding which one he wanted to suck on.
"You're gonna leave a mark.” Y/N whispered as she felt a slight pinch.
He sucked harder, then released the spot. "And you're gonna like it."
Well, that was true. That mark was followed by another one, and then one slightly lower after he undid the zipper on her jacket and pulled the collar of her shirt down so he could leave one along her collarbone. A pleasurable tingle radiated from each of the places he'd claimed, making her shiver.
Jack tugged her head further back so he could admire the workmanship he'd put into branding her, then placed another contradictory kiss on her collarbone before he released his grip on her hair. Her head fell forward and he pushed his mouth against hers, his breath hot and needy on her skin.
"This is what you wanted?" He asked.
Y/N almost said yes, then stopped as a delightfully wicked thought crossed her mind. “I want more.” She said instead.
Jack laughed. Not at her, not in a way that said he thought she was being funny. No, it was more of a chuckle, a knowing sound that was full of promise and ego, a rumble that made her very glad she wasn't standing because her knees would have given out from the rush of electricity that surged through her.
"You asked for it, baby.” Jack growled, and then her jacket was torn from her body.
Y/N couldn't keep up with his hands. It was a whirlwind of motions: her jacket was tossed to the side as he buried his face against her clothed chest, then there was a large hand splayed on each of her hips, pushing her down onto the thick bulge beneath her. She moaned and suddenly her shirt was gone, yanked over her head and tossed away while Jack’s lips and teeth claimed the revealed skin on her chest. He groaned into the tops of her breasts, a low sound that seemed to drip through each of her nerves and down to her panties, which were already so wet that she was sure they were leaking onto his sweatpants.
Jack thrust up against her, making her breasts jiggle against his face as he pushed his arousal against her still-covered pussy. Y/N indulged in the friction, craving more and rolling her hips as much as she could beneath the unforgiving hold his hands had on her. She, however, was not in charge.
"You want this?" Jack asked, then forced her hips forward and back, making her grind against his cock much harder and driving a pleasured yelp from her mouth.
"Yes.” Y/N said breathlessly. "I want it."
"You want it?” Jack repeated, almost taunting her. "You want this cock so bad, don't you, pretty girl?"
"Yes.” She said again, nearly wailing. "Please, I want you to fuck me."
"No.” Jack said, then laughed when she made a distressed noise. "Not yet."
"But I want you inside me."
"Oh, I'm about to be inside you." Jack let go of her hips, sliding his hand to the side of the seat again. "But not the way you want. This is what I want."
With that, Jack pulled the handle that reclined the seat, tilting it back just enough that when he pushed her off his lap and onto the floor beneath the steering wheel, she had easy access to the hard cock straining the front of his pants. Even though she was hornier than she’d ever been in her entire life, Y/N had to marvel as she adjusted her position between Jack’s legs.
The people who made his Range Rover were not fucking around when it came to leg room. She was able to lean forward enough to hook her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and tug them down, noting as she did that there was indeed a wet spot on the front of them. Whether that was from her or from the leaking cock still encased in his boxer-briefs, she didn't know; those had a wet spot on them too, but she didn't have time to examine it.
"Take it out, Y/N.” Jack demanded when she paused.
Y/N did as he asked, slipping his underwear down and revealing his gorgeously thick, already weeping cock. She bit back a smirk as she looked at the veiny, throbbing erection jutting up in front of her. Jack lifted his hips just enough to let her get his boxer-briefs to the middle of his thighs before grabbing her hair again and pulling her head forward. The tip of his cock brushed against her lips and she looked up at him, his eyes betraying his need even more than the hardness of his cock did.
"Open your mouth.” Jack said.
In what she hoped was a teasing, coquettish way, Y/N parted her lips just slightly. He waited, then tightened his grip on her hair, his eyes darkening.
"Do you want this cock or not?" Jack asked. "Open it properly or I'll do it for you. I think one of those things is gonna feel better than the other, don't you?"
Eyes wide as he taunted her with her own words, Y/N let her jaw fall the rest of the way open. Instantly, Jack pushed his cock forward, driving it past her lips and letting the head drag across her tongue. There was a brief moment when she could taste the flavor of him, a faint hint of soap and salt and raw need, and then he shoved himself to the back of her throat.
The urge to gag flared up, tears springing into her eyes as her stomach started clenching. Y/N fought it with everything she had, knowing Jack would hear her choke and pull back immediately, that look of primal lust fading as he worried that he'd gone too far. And that was the absolute last thing she wanted, not when they’d just started and she was reveling in the way he was looking at her and speaking to her and using her.
Inhaling sharply through her nose, Y/N managed to repress it, though just barely. Jack seemed to notice or at least suspect something and the hand in her hair loosened. Panicked, she lifted her hand to his and looked up at him, hoping her eyes weren't watering too much, and held his gaze as she pressed down on his hand.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack hissed, and she let her hand drop away as his other hand moved to the back of her head.
There was no point in her trying to control the pace of the blowjob. Jack took over, staring directly into her eyes as he moved her head the way he wanted to. And as much as she hated to admit it, she loved it. Her body was singing, her nipples hard beneath her bra and her pussy dripping. She squirmed, but there wasn't enough room in the wheel well for her to properly shift.
So with her lips wrapped around him and his cock dragging along her tongue with each thrust, Y/N moved her hands from where they were sitting uselessly on his thighs. Between his thrusts, she wormed her arms down to her sides, her shoulders pressed tight against his knees as he used her face. It wasn't until she’d worked the hem of her skirt up in one hand that Jack realized what she was doing.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack breathed, moving one hand off her head so he could see better. "Are you going to touch yourself while you suck my cock?"
Y/N made a choked noise against the cock in her throat that was intended to be either an affirmative answer or a moan. She wasn't exactly sure, but she held his gaze as she worked her fingers into her panties by pulling them to the side, since she couldn't lift her shoulder enough to slide them in from the waistband.
Another choked noise rumbled against his cock as she felt the slickness of her pussy. Y/N was beyond soaked; everything from her thighs to her folds to her mound was coated in wetness and her pussy was so warm that she could feel the heat without even pushing a finger inside.
Her body felt hollow, desperate for something that would satiate that hungry, yearning ache, and the best she could do right then was her finger. She slipped it inside and whimpered, though the sound was muffled. Jack groaned and rested one arm against the car door while gathering her hair in his hand again.
"That's right, baby.” Jack said. "Fuck yourself while I fuck your mouth. Make yourself feel good."
Y/N pushed another finger inside herself and brushed the base of her thumb against her clit. Relief soared through her and her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as her pussy walls squeezed around her fingers. Jack yanked her hair hard and her eyes flew back open.
"No.” Jack grunted. "I'm the one letting you play with yourself, so you let me look at you while you touch your greedy little pussy."
Hardly daring to blink, Y/N stared up at him, certain that her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed pink. A sloppy mix of spit and pre-cum trickled down her chin as he kept fucking her head down on his cock, dripping onto her chest and the tops of her still-contained breasts.
"Good girl.” Jack whispered. "You look so fucking irresistible right now, baby. Keep taking it. You're taking it so good."
Y/N’s thighs trembled, his words so stimulating that it was almost like they were touching her clit rather than her hand. Short, quick bursts through her nose were the only way she could breathe, though that wasn't why she was feeling light-headed. That was from the pleasure, from the way she was fingering herself, from the buildup of bliss that was radiating from that eager, aching spot in the core of her body.
It rose and spread, delight dancing along her skin and to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts — everything. Her limbs began to feel numb in the best way as that promise of overwhelming euphoria built up and up and up. She stared into her boyfriend's eyes, but keeping her own open was growing more and more difficult.
"That's right.” Jack encouraged. "Come on, baby. Let me see you cum while you've got my cock in your mouth. Let me see how fucking much you love being my pretty little whore."
Jack groaned as she cried out uncontrollably, an unintelligible noise erupting from her as her pussy clenched around her fingers and her body spasmed, bursting with the sudden release of ecstasy. Try as she might, Y/N couldn't keep her eyes open, squeezing them shut as every other muscle in her body tightened in a desperate attempt to contain the feelings rippling and rolling through her.
Once the final burst of pleasure faded and she could open her eyes again, Y/N looked up at him, aware her lips were still wrapped around his cock and her hand was still between her legs, giving him her silent go-ahead. But he didn't. A satisfied smirk made the corner of his mouth flick up, then he slowly pulled her head back until she let his still-unspent cock fall from her lips. She took a deep breath once it had, looking up at him.
"You seem a little trapped under there.” Jack said conversationally.
"A little.” Y/N said.
"I'll let you out, but once I do, I'm going to throw you across the seat and fuck you until you can't walk properly."
That recently doused fire in her core flared up again, instantly burning up any satisfaction and replacing it with more need. "Okay.” She said in a tiny voice.
Jack’s lower lip curled into his mouth. "So if you need a break to recover, now's the time to take it. Because I won't be letting up until I cum all over you, baby.”
"I don't need a break."
He flicked up one eyebrow. "No?"
Y/N sat back as much as she could, looking up at him defiantly. "I want you to fuck me now, Jack."
He smirked, then half-shrugged before throwing the car door open. Cold air rushed into the vehicle, raising trails of goosebumps along her exposed skin. Tragically, he pulled up his boxers and sweats, covering his beautiful, throbbing erection before working his right leg past her and getting out.
Shivering, Y/N ran a hand across her face and chin, but before she could ease herself out of the wheel well, Jack grabbed her and pulled her partway out of the car before shoving her up onto the driver's seat, twisting her so her legs were hanging out the open door.
"What are you doing?” Y/N asked, but he tugged her forward, stepping between her legs and kissing her as he grabbed one breast in each hand and squeezed.
She moaned as he gripped her, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh just hard enough to be firm, but not painfully uncomfortable. She lifted her arms to his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt as he crushed his mouth against hers.
"What am I gonna do with you, baby?" Jack murmured. "You sit there and tell me you want me to fuck you, that you want me to save up all my anger when people fuck with me so I can use it to destroy that perfect little pussy I love so much, all these goddamn obscene words coming out of this sweet mouth of yours. You know what I saw just now?"
Jack tightened his hands on her breasts again and she gasped. "No.” Y/N said.
"I saw my pretty girlfriend get shoved down on her knees, still wearing that fucking ruffled skirt with her tits spilling out of a bra. I saw her finger herself while I made her choke on my cock." Jack let go of her left breast, just to bring his hand up to her chin and cup it, holding her face hard so she couldn't pull away from him. "I've been trying so hard to be the nice, sweet boyfriend I thought you deserved, but you don't want that, do you? You want someone who will fuck you as dirty as he fights."
"Yes.” Y/N moaned, and he sank his teeth into her bottom lip. She let out a soft wail and he did it again, then sucked on the tender spot he'd bitten as he let go of her chin and wrapped both arms around her so he could unclasp her bra. It fell away from her chest and she wriggled her arms out of it, letting it fall to the ground beside the Range Rover.
Jack dipped his head and shoved his face between her breasts. From there he used his tongue to guide him to her nipple, tugging on it with his teeth. She cried out as he nibbled on it, then made a low mewling sound as he soothed it by circling the stiff nub with his tongue.
He repeated the action on her other breast, cupping the first one in his hand so he could feel the hardness of her nipple pressing into his palm. Once he'd let her nipple fall from his teeth, a pleasant stinging radiating from the sensitive buds across her entire chest, Jack straightened back up and shoved his hand between her legs as he kissed her again.
"Listen to me.” Jack demanded. "When I'm done kissing you, you're going to turn around and get on your hands and knees with your sweet ass on display for anyone out there to see while you wait for me."
Y/N gulped, even though both of them knew very well that there was hardly any chance of there being a single living soul in the field behind them. "Okay."
"Good girl.” Jack breathed, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool outdoor air ran through her. "You keep your eyes looking straight forward, understand? All I want to see is your ass hanging out the door of my car. No peeking."
"I won't peek.” She promised.
Y/N wasted no time doing what he asked, clambering back into the car and balancing her knees on the edge of the driver's seat and her forearms on the edge of the passenger seat, thankful that the center console was below the seat level so she didn't have to contort around it. Her breasts hung below her and cold air tickled up the back of her thighs, making the heat of her pussy seem almost uncomfortably warm.
Jack opened the trunk and grabbed his hockey bag, rooting through it for a moment before grabbing something and slamming the door closed. She almost turned her head, but he'd said not to, so she kept looking forward and waited with electrified anticipation for him to move back behind her. But he didn't.
Restlessly, Y/N tapped her fingers on the passenger seat, shivering again as more goosebumps raised on her arms. A soft breeze stirred the fabric of her skirt, blowing it up slightly. Not that it was covering much; she knew her panties were exposed, and not just her panties, but the soaked spot in the middle of them betraying her arousal.
When she couldn't take it anymore, Y/N shifted again, letting her hip lean against the backrest so she could twist in place and look over her shoulder. Jack was standing a few feet behind her, his arms folded across his chest. When their eyes met, he raised his eyebrows.
"What'd I say?" He asked, his voice low.
Heat rising on her face, she turned back around quickly, but it wasn't enough.
"Oh, baby.” Jack said, and now she could hear him walking towards her. "I asked you a question."
"You said eyes looking straight forward.” Y/N replied in a quick, high-pitched voice.
"And what did I just see?"
"I didn't know where you went."
Warm fingers were suddenly circling her ankles and a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold overtook her. His hands slid up her calves, teasing her chilled skin.
"I went to get a condom so I can give my girlfriend the fucking she's been begging for.” Jack said in a low voice. "And I came back to see her sexy ass up in the air, so I was taking a moment to admire it when she decided she didn't want to listen to me anymore."
"Please, Jack.” She whimpered quietly.
"And then I asked her a question and she didn't give me a direct answer. What happened to my good girl, baby?"
"I..." Y/N breathed. "I, um...”
"I think someone needs to see what happens when she doesn't listen to me, don't you?"
Jack’s fingers moved up her thighs and under her skirt, caressing her ass as she realized he'd very intentionally made her turn around. Her breath caught in her throat as he flipped the fabric of her skirt up and traced his fingers along her covered ass crack.
"I asked you a question, baby.” He said.
"Yes.” Y/N said. "Show me what happens."
Jack laughed, then made her jump when suddenly there was a sharp pinch on one of her cheeks and a warm breath soothing it. She’d had no idea he was such a biter, but damn if she didn't fucking love it.
"You know how silly you sounded when you said you wanted me to slap your ass like I did with my teammates?" He teased. "That's just stupid guy stuff. I'd never slap your ass like that."
His hands were suddenly on her hips and he pulled her backwards. She yelped, catching herself as he slid her down so her stomach was resting on the seat. After a harrowing moment, her feet found the running boards so she propped herself up more easily.
Jack pushed her skirt up again, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down just past her ass. He leaned in and hunched over her body so the next time he spoke, his voice was in her ear.
"No, your ass is gonna be spanked properly." His covered erection pressed against her, hard as ever against her exposed skin. "Good and hard, like I fucking mean it. You want that, baby?"
"Uh-huh.” Y/N said.
"Of course you do."
Jack straightened up, tracing his hands down her bare back and caressing her ass again. The only indication he was about to hit her was that his touch disappeared; Y/N inhaled sharply and tensed, and a moment later his hand struck her ass cheek. It was more startling than anything.
She jumped forward slightly, but the sting of pain she’d expected wasn't present. Pursing her lips, she waited, anticipating another one, but he just traced his fingers along her ass again.
"Are you okay?" Jack asked.
Y/N turned again, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. "I thought you said you were gonna spank me like you meant it."
His eyebrow flicked up, then he shrugged and slowly shook his head. "You asked for it.” Jack said, and she didn't even have time to turn back around before he brought his hand down on her ass again.
A loud crack echoed around them and she jolted forward, her stomach hitting the seat as a searing sting radiated from the spot he'd slapped. Y/N yelped, stunned at the suddenness of the pain on her ass and the rush of adrenaline that seemed to radiate from her pussy, and seconds later Jack’s fingers were soothing the burning spot on her ass cheek.
"Did that feel like I meant it?" He asked, his voice betraying his concern.
"Maybe.” Y/N gasped. "You should probably do it again, just to be sure."
His hand paused its soothing motions, a brief hesitation that she worried meant he was going to stop, that he thought he'd taken it too far. Then, a low, throaty chuckle was her only warning as he drew his hand back. A second powerful snap resonated and she cried out again.
"There.” Jack said, stroking the sore spot he'd just left on her other ass cheek as her body quivered beneath him. "A matching pair of handprints on this perfect ass of yours."
"One more?" Y/N asked breathlessly.
Jack made a soft noise and she tensed when his hand moved away, but it was replaced a moment later by the incredibly intimate feeling of his lips kissing the spot he'd just struck, his breath oddly soothing against what she was sure was reddened skin.
"Nice try, baby.” Jack said. "It's my turn to get what I want."
"And what's that?"
His lips moved away from her ass as he straightened up. Jack must have put the condom on while she was staring straight forward like she was supposed to. Maybe he'd even intended to walk up and enter her wordlessly, fucking her hard and fast and deep without even a warning that he was about to do it, before she’d felt the need to twist around and see where he was. She didn't know, but it didn't matter.
"I'm going to fuck you until you're screaming.” Jack answered, punctuating the sentence by grabbing her hips and shoving his cock inside her.
Jack didn't so much as hesitate before pulling back before slamming himself forward, so deep inside her that his hips pressed against the blazing handprints on her ass cheeks. Y/N cried out again, though it must have been obvious that it was a cry of ecstasy because he didn't pause before digging his fingertips into her hips so hard that she was sure they would bruise and plunging inside of her again.
Y/N’s nails dug into the seat of the car, bracing herself as Jack fucked her mercilessly. The sound of his hips hitting her ass filled the car, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her own heart and the noises being pushed from her mouth by the sheer force of his cock.
Hunched over her, Jack grabbed one of her breasts, which was swinging with the force of his thrusts. Squeezing, he groaned and kissed a spot on her back, just between her shoulder blades.
"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack gasped. "You feel so good."
"So do you.” She tried to say, but he used his grip on her to pull her up slightly so he could slide his other hand between her legs.
Y/N balanced herself with one hand on the steering wheel and the other against the backrest of the seat, but nearly the entirety of her weight was held up by Jack’s hands as he fucked her, fondled her, and fingered her. Stars burst in her eyes and the world around her flickered in and out; cold air and surrounding trees and the wide field behind her ceased to exist.
All that mattered was his cock and his hands and the way he felt inside her, the way his body kept slamming into hers and the overwhelming pleasure from the sensations he was giving her. It must have been obvious that she was about to cum because Jack quietly urged her on, rubbing her clit harder as he kept his pace steady and strong.
"Cum on this cock, baby.” Jack ordered. "Show me why I should come home and fuck you like this every week instead of losing it on some other bastard. Be a good girl for me. Prove to me you deserve to be fucked like this."
Y/N came apart in his arms, screaming just like he'd said she would. Her body shook, convulsing as orgasmic waves took over her, clouding her vision and her mind and turning her into nothing but a bundle of nerve endings that were firing over and over and over again. Just when she thought it would never stop, that she’d be stuck in that tortuous moment of delirious intensity, it slowly faded, and she fell heavy and limp in Jack’s arms.
Buried deep inside her, he paused just long enough to gently put her back onto the driver's seat, taking his arms back from under her before gripping her hips again. Jack started fucking her in that selfish way she was all too happy to oblige, exhilarated by the way he took his pleasure from her body.
When his breathing came faster, she knew he was close. Moments later, his cock was throbbing, and ropes of hot cum were painting her ass and lower back, though the rest of it got caught in the skirt that was still bunched around her waist.
"Holy shit.” Jack groaned, his voice staggered as he finished, his breath coming in hard gasps. For a few heartbeats, that was all she heard: his breath and hers, the car full of the scent of sex and cum, her body still in a hazy glow of satisfaction.
Then, Jack swore, lifting himself off her. “Are you okay?" He asked. "Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
"Don't ruin this with an apology.” She said. "I'm fine. I’m more than fine. That was amazing."
Jack hesitated, then laughed awkwardly. "Okay, good. Because I was gonna... your ass looks so fucking hot, all red like that and covered with cum. But I should... let me grab you a shirt or something.”
"Don't worry about it." Y/N pushed back, balancing on the running board as she shimmied her panties back up and then flipped her skirt back down over them before stepping down and turning to face him. "It's all washable."
Jack looked at her, a crease on his forehead betraying his concern as he lifted a hand to her cheek and tilted her head up. His eyes darted as he took in her face and expression. Then, apparently satisfied that she was as okay as she said she was, he relaxed and stooped down to kiss her.
"Will you come to my next game?" Jack murmured. "After my suspension's done?"
"Depends.” Y/N said, kissing him back. "Are you gonna punch a guy in the face again?"
"Baby, if all I have to do to fuck you like this again is not punch a guy in the face, I'm the luckiest guy alive. I'd punch myself in the face to do this all over again."
"No punching anyone in the face.” She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her still-naked torso in warmth. "Yes, I'll come to your game, and if you don't act like an asshole, we can do this all over again."
"You're amazing.” Jack murmured. "Fucking amazing. I'm gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, I’m gonna wash your hair for you and give you a massage and then kiss you all over and eat your pussy for hours." He kissed her again, then let go and bent over so he could pick up her bra for her before tracking down her shirt that had somehow ended up in the backseat of the car.
#jack hughes#jack hughes x you#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x female reader#jack hughes x fem!reader#jack hughes x y/n#new jersey devils
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𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃
✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x jack hughes
✰ SUMMARY — in which jack’s gf is worried about her boyfriend and his injuries
✰ CONTENT — curse words, tiny angst, fluff
✰ WC — 1.47K
✰ NOTE — oh to take care of bf!jack after a tough game
you release a shaky breath, the tip of your thumb between your teeth as you bite your nail nervously. the lump in your throat only grows twice the size as your eyes stay locked on the devils' bench where a trainer was talking into Jack's ear, an uneasy expression on his face as he holds his hand out so they could tape it.
there was no doubt that he was gonna go out there again. they could tell him his fingers were broken, or on the verge of falling off and he'd still want to finsish the last 5 minutes of this game. and a part of you understood that. it was the Rangers, it was the first home game after a horrible road trip and Jack wanted to finish the game off strong.
your heart remained in your throat the remaining minutes, unable to appreciate the rest of the game until the buzzer sounded, the Devils' winning 6-2. this was only Jack's 3rd game back from a previous injury that you knew he wasn't completely healed from. you had urged him to take a few more games but when the Devils' losing streak extended to 7 games, Jack had insisted that he was ready to return.
this wouldn't be the first time you're anxious over Jack playing through an injury, or getting one during the game and just acting like it never happened. nor would it be the first time the two of you would inevitably have an argument about it later. however thoughts of arguing were pushed far back when Jack and Luke made their way out of the locker room, the usual post-win spark missing from your boyfriend's eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck.
you give Luke a quick smile over Jack's shoulder before pulling out of the hug and grabbing both of Jack's hands, unsure which one was the victim of tonight's escapades.
"I'm okay baby. It's just a little slash. they're not even broken, look," he says and wiggles his fingers in a little wave that gets him an amused little smile from Luke, one he was hoping to get from you but instead your lips pull down a little further and you pull away from his touch completely.
"This isn't funny Jack. I don't care if they're not broken, you were obviously in pain. And there was no reason for you to go out and play those last six minutes. You guys were leading by four." you try to keep your voice steady while berating him but by the way his eyes soften he probably heard the worry in your tone.
Jack sighs as his gaze moves from you to his little brother akwardly shifting around, trying to make it seem like he's not listening but obviously hearing every word.
"Let's not do this here, we can talk about it at home," Jack pleadingly states, dropping a kiss on your cheek as he interlocks your fingers and make your way towards his car, Luke trailing silently behind you two.
The silence from the drive follows the three of you into the apartment, Luke mumbling something about going to bed and you and Jack retreat to your bedroom as well.
"Are you gonna say what you wanna say or are you gonna continue throwing death glares my way the whole night?" Jack asks, exhaustion prevelent in his gaze as he takes a seat on his side of the bed.
"I'm not gonna say anything, we both know you never listen when it comes to this anyway. It's pointless, can we just go to bed please?" you say and Jack's eyes widen at the resignation in your tone.
After getting into night clothes and brushing your teeth, you and Jack lay side by side, your breathing the only sound in the room. Usually Jack would pull you closer to him by now, falling asleep the moment the smell of your shampoo fills his nose, but he's not sure you want him to touch him right now.
"This is my job. You knew how much I loved hockey when you started dating me." Jack says quietly, staring at the ceiling.
"Do you love it more than you love yourself? More than you love me?" you whisper, the words getting caught in your throat because you're afraid the answer might be yes.
"Are you asking me to choose between the sport I love and the woman I love? Because the answer would be you in every lifetime. And I'd give it up for you, but I can't promise you a little part of me won't resent you for it." Jack whispers back, the words barely audible as if that's a confession he's never even thought about, never mind verbalized.
"I'm not asking you to give it up," you answer and you hear his relieved sigh.
"I'm just asking you to love yourself a little more. Take the extra game off if you need it. Spend the last six minutes on the bench when your team is winning by 4 goals and you're injured. You only have one body Jack, and you're not going to be 22 forever, take care of it. You don't have to do everything by yourself you know? You can't win on your own, let your teammates carry some of that burden. Let me take care of you. Is that too much to ask?" you ask desperately, turning your head to look at him.
"No baby, it's not." he says, pushing himself up on one elbow so he's laying on his side and looking down at you, resting his other hand on your stomach.
"I don't want you to feel like I'm not supporting your dreams," you whisper, tearing up a little and Jack's heart squeezes tight.
"You're my number one supporter, babe. Always. I know that. It's why you're so worried about me. And I understand and I can't promise you I won't do what I did tonight ever again, because I'm me, and I'm bound to mess up, but I promise I'll try my hardest to be careful and take care of myself okay?" he says softly, kissing your tears away, and pulling you on top of him as he lays on his back.
"I love you so much," you say kissing his chest.
"I love you the most," he whispers back, squeezing you tight, as both of you drift off the sleep.
The next morning Jack leaves you sleeping in bed, and sneaks out to the kitchen where Luke's already making pancakes.
"What are you doing?" Jack asks, not bothering to say good morning.
"Giving you a head start on your apology breakfast," Luke answers and Jack can't help but feel a pang of affection for his little brother.
As much as Luke likes to pretend he was doing this to help Jack, he was really doing it to help you. Luke could see how upset you were last night and he wanted to do something nice for you.
"Aww Lukey," Jack coos ruffling Luke's hair on his way to the fridge.
"If you didn't make my sister upset every weekend, we wouldn't have to get up at this ungodly hour each time," Luke mumbles and Jack freezes at the word 'sister'.
"Sister?" Jack asks
"I uh- may or may not have accidentally saw that you ordered her ring." Luke stutters and Jack's eyes narrow.
"Saw it where?" Jack questions walking closer.
"Um-" Luke swallows nervously.
"Saw it where?" Jack asks again, picking up the spoon and holding it towards Luke's throat like one would a knife.
"Jesus Jack. Fine Quinn told me." Luke admits, breathing a little easier when Jack lowers the spoon, even though it was never really that threatning.
"How the fuck does Quinn know?" Jack whisper-yells.
"Trevor told him."
"Fucking Trevor. Can never tell him shit. I'm gonna kill him," Jack replies, while Luke silently questions why Quinn and Trevor were even talking to each other.
"For what it's worth, I can't wait until she's officially part of the family. I think she's perfect for you and I'm so beyond happy for you." Luke says and Jack immediately pulls him into a bone crushing hug.
"Thank you," Jack says softly as they hear soft footsteps approaching.
"Aw," you say taking in the sight of the two brothers hugging.
"What are you doing up? You're supposed to sleep in on your off days," Jack says walking over and pulling you into his arms.
"So are you. I woke up cause your phone was ringing," you answer handing it to him.
"Who was it?" he asks, putting it on the counter without even looking at it and leaving kisses on your neck.
"Trevor," you reply
"Fucking Trevor,"
#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#hockey blurb#nhl blurb#hockey fic#nhl fic
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[ one day ] j. hughes
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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#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey oneshot#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl oneshot#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes fanfiction
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and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you'd feel me somehow | jack hughes
Thank you for all the love on hey now, you're an all-star - i am honestly blown away by those notes!! here is a part two. let me know what you think, and what your predictions or desires are for a potential part three! xo
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: nothing major. uni stress again, jack being a bit of a dick. angst. all of the angst.
(This is a fem reader insert) read part one here read the part three here
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
Waking up was always slightly disorienting for you, and the next morning was no different.
Your dreams could be quite vivid, or you couldn’t remember them at all once you awoke; but the first thing you could sense on this particular morning was the strong scent of coffee wafting through the room. As your eyes adjusted to the morning light streaming in the windows, you became suddenly and painfully aware that you were alone on the couch. A blanket had been draped over you at some stage of your slumber, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your face, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building in your chest. You could hear a shower running, somewhere in the hotel suite, and hastily threw the blanket off your body as you scanned the room for your belongings.
Shoes. Where were your shoes? And phone? Keys? Did you bring a bag with you? What time was it? What time did your class start? Would you be able to get an Uber to Campus in time? Wait, was your class online or on campus this morning?
Your brain was churning out a thousand thoughts a minute, and your heart rate was starting to match it. You felt like a deer in headlights. Or a cat under a rocking chair. Or… just… lost. You were so lost.
Someone cleared their throat behind you and you jolted, whipping around to face Quinn, who was decked out in a brown leather jacket and grey pants, holding two steaming coffee mugs in his hands.
You must have looked distressed, because Quinn offered you a gentle smile and one of the mugs which you cautiously accepted.
“Thanks, Q. I really should get going soon, though. Get out of your hair before the big draft day circus arrives.” Your voice was still slightly groggy with sleep.
“Take as long as you need, sugarplum. Our call time isn’t for another two hours. Jack’s in the shower, and he’d hate it if you left without saying goodbye.” Quinn raised his eyebrows at you as you both took a sip of coffee.
“Watching Jack try and untangle himself from you on the couch did provide me with my morning entertainment though. Surprised he didn’t end up with another injury given how clumsy he usually is.” You felt your cheeks get warm at Quinn’s comment and the smirk on his face.
“He could’ve just woken me up…” You offered weakly, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.
“No offence, but that was a risk that neither of us are willing to take. Not after last summer.” Quinn bit back a laugh as you narrowed your eyes at him.
Last summer at the lake house, you’d stayed up all night trying to finish the latest novel in your favourite fiction series. Jack had come into your room to wake you for the boat day you’d discussed the day before, but instead of a gentle approach to waking you up, he’d literally jumped onto your bed. Which caused you to sit bolt upright and “accidentally” punch him in the face. At least he thought the black eye made him look tough for a couple of weeks.
“Nice jacket, by the way.” You tried to change the subject.
Quinn stood up straight and puffed out his chest.
“You think so? Jack and I got to go down to Hermés and pick out our outfits yesterday. I felt suuuuper out of my league to be honest.”
Your eyes widened at the brand name Quinn just dropped, slightly choking on your coffee.
“Hermés? That’s proper designer, Q. Like, tens of thousands of dollars of jacket, right?”
Quinn didn’t answer you, but he didn’t have to. The look on his face told you that the jacket he was wearing was worth more than six months of your rent. Maybe more.
“Well, we have to do this red carpet thing, and I figured we should probably try a bit harder than team merch.” Quinn reached over and tugged playfully on the sleeve of your hoodie.
Well, Jack’s hoodie. That you happened to be wearing. Which was previously super comfortable, but now felt like your skin was on fire underneath it.
“What time is it, anyway?” There you go again, changing the subject.
“Like, 9.15?” Quinn offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing you the time on his home screen.
9.15? Why was that important to you? What was at 9.15?
The test. In your economics class. Worth a decent chunk of your grade. It was at 9.30am. But was it online or on campus?
You downed the rest of your coffee in one gulp, ignoring how it burned your throat, and thrust your mug back at Quinn before tugging the hoodie over your head and throwing it on the floor. You turned around, searching wildly for your phone and spotting it on the couch where you’d been sleeping, not that long ago. You lunged for it, frantically unlocked and trying to find your university schedule in the calendar app.
“Oh thank god. It’s online. Holy fuck.” You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself down.
“Sugar? You okay?” Jack’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your phone to see him standing in the doorway to his room.
Clad in black jeans, with a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the shower. Shirtless. Of course he was shirtless. You squeezed your eyes shut out of instinct, and also to stop yourself from blatantly checking him out. When you opened them, Jack was striding towards you, his face etched in concern.
“What do you need?” Jack spoke quietly, but firmly, reaching out to rub your arms reassuringly. His touch sent a zap of electricity through you, which seemed to kick your brain back into gear.
“I need… Do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have an online test in 15 minutes that I forgot about, for a subject I’m almost failing, and if I miss the test then I don’t know that I’ll be able to recover my grade.” You half-whispered, almost wishing that Jack and Quinn couldn’t hear your confession out loud.
You were supposed to be the smart one. That’s what everyone said, when you were growing up. You were the brains, Jack was the beauty. You were the bookish one, he was the brutally athletic one. Talking about failing university out loud was suddenly terrifying, even though you’d known it was a possibility for a few weeks or more.
“Hey… hey.” Jack squeezed your arms, trying to centre you, and dropped his head down to your eye level. “It’s okay. I’ve got a laptop you can use, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”
All you could muster was a nod in response, and Jack leaned in to kiss your forehead before disappearing back into his room, presumably to find his laptop. You sat back down on the couch, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.
Quinn had briefly left to place your coffee mug in the kitchenette, but he was back and leaned over the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.
“You’ll smash it, kiddo. Make sure you ask Jack what his laptop password is though, I’d hate for you to get locked out during your test.” Quinn said quietly, before his phone rang and he stepped into his room to answer it.
“Here you go, sunshine. Fully charged, but the charger is in my room if you need it.” Jack was back in the living room, handing his laptop to you, already logged in and a web browser open for you.
You stood up from the couch and moved towards the dining table, setting the laptop down and pulling out a chair. It only took a minute to log into your university portal and navigate to the subject page you needed for the online test. You were about to click the start button, when Quinn’s comment flashed in your mind.
“Jack?” You squeaked, turning to face the couch where Jack had flopped down moments before. Still clad in black jeans, still fucking shirtless, absolutely ignorant of the effect he was having on your ability to breathe calming, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.
“What’s up?”
“What’s… what’s your password? In case I get locked out and you’re not here? Could you write it down for me please?” You reached for the hotel notepad and complimentary pen that was on the table you were sitting at, waving them in Jack’s direction.
Jack rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he stood up and took the notepad from you and began scribbling on it.
“I have to go downstairs and meet Bratter for some team social media stuff, but I’ll see you later, okay? Text me when you finish your test.” You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he handed the notepad back to you, retrieved a shirt and jacket from his bedroom and disappeared out the hotel room door, all within a minute or two.
You were confused, to say the least. You glanced down at the notepad Jack had thrust into your hands, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw what he scrawled on it.
Password - SugarpluM2001Jh!
–
Quinn had headed out not long after Jack did, leaving you to complete your test in silence. Despite the disorienting start to your morning, and all of your revision notes being on your desk at home, you managed to scrape through with a 75% result which would supplement your final grade significantly.
The waves of relief washed over you, as you clicked out of web page you were on. You reached for your phone and typed a quick message to Jack as promised, and you were confused when the laptop chimed with a notification noise.
Oh. Oh. Jack’s laptop was linked to his phone, and his messages were suddenly popping up on the laptop screen in front of you.
You shouldn’t pry. You knew that. Your logical brain was telling you to close the laptop screen and get going. But your anxiety brain was telling you that you should take a peek. Just a little one.
Before your logical brain and anxiety brain could battle it out properly, the laptop notification chimed again, and a girl’s name that was not your own flashed up on the screen.
What happened last night? I thought you were coming to my room after your dinner?? Xx
You felt your jaw drop, as you started to realise what was happening in this conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to. You froze, as the little bubble popped up in the chat, showing you that Jack was typing a reply.
Sorry babe i got caught up with some boring family bullshit, you know how it is. Would’ve rather have been with you obvs but i just couldn’t get away. Then today is crazy with media stuff anyway. I’ll see u at the drew house event tonight though? Go back to yours after that? Xo
Sounds great. I’ll be wearing this for you, J. *image attached*
You slammed the laptop shut when the image loaded, showing someone wearing a red and black lingerie set.
You felt bad for snooping, but you felt worse knowing that Jack considered last night as “boring family bullshit”. Is that all it was? Were you stupid for thinking it was more? That it could ever be more between the two of you?
Or was that all you could ever hope to be? Like family. Forever intertwined, always floating in each other’s orbit, but never more than friends. Platonic soulmates at best, childhood acquaintances at worst.
You were spiralling, yet again, and your phone buzzing with a notification provided a brief reprieve. Until you saw that it was a text from Jack.
Well done on your test, champ!! Knew u could do it. See you at the draft tonight? There’s two passes in your email for you and your dad to come visit. Might even get to meet bublé, if that’s your vibe lmao
Suddenly, there was a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was he pretending like he wanted to spend time with you? When surely all he actually wanted to do was sneak off with the girl he was texting just moments ago?
You swiped into check your email app, and there were the passes as promised. You quickly scanned the email to see if they were assigned to any particular name, and all you could see was “guest of Jack Hughes” rather than you or your dad specifically. You quickly hit the “forward” button, and sent them on to your dad and your cousin Tom, who had met Jack and Quinn a handful of times over the years, and was a massive hockey fan like your dad. You knew Tom would love to go, and your dad would be happy enough to have Tom join him.
You sent through a quick message to Tom saying you weren’t feeling well and that he’d be doing you a favour by taking your pass, to which he immediately replied with lots of exclamation points and thanks.
Next, you typed a message back to Jack.
Thanks again for the laptop and for the passes. Something’s come up so i can’t come but dad will be there with tom, hope that is ok? Didn’t want the passes to go to waste. Good luck for the draft, don’t let quinn bully you too much lol
You were hoping that Jack wouldn’t question you, or pick up on the shift in tone. Well, maybe you wanted him to sense the tone a little bit. Jack’s typing bubble popped up in the text conversation, then disappeared, then popped up again, then suddenly your phone was vibrating with a call and Jack’s name was flashing across the top of your screen. Your fingers hovered over the answer/decline buttons, before you abandoned both and dropped your phone back onto the table, letting the call go to voicemail.
You stood up from the table and began to gather your belongings. The bitter taste was still in your mouth, but otherwise you felt nothing. Just numb. You barely realised what you were doing when your body moved towards the hotel suite door, into the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the street. You waited a few minutes for your Uber, before slipping away through the streets of downtown, and as far away from Jack as you felt you needed to be.
By the time you got home, Jack had called you twice, and sent you about ten text messages of various question marks and confusion, and a fair amount of concern. You plugged your phone into the charger on your bedside table before heading into your bathroom for a much-needed shower.
Your shower felt like it took about 3 hours, when in reality it was probably more like 20 minutes at most. You washed your hair, and spent some time sitting down on the shower floor staring into space, pondering the events of the last 24 hours. When you finally emerged, putting on your favourite sweatpants and an old Canucks hoodie you found on your bedroom floor, you realise your phone was flashing with more notifications.
You settled down in bed before picking up your phone and scrolling through the home screen. Jack had resorted to sending you photos of sad baby pandas to elicit a response, your dad had texted you to say thank you for the passes and to feel better soon, but it was a message from Quinn that caught your eye.
Q: What did he do? He’s freaking out. Are you okay? I can beat him up if you want me to. Or give him a hug. Just let me know which is more appropriate based on whatever the fuck he did
You hesitated, contemplating whether to tell Quinn the truth or not. But then you remembered that Quinn had literally known you since you were four. He could tell if you were lying in a heartbeat, even over text message.
You: Maybe just remind Jack that his text messages pop up on his laptop. See if that helps him to figure it out lmao sorry to miss tonight quinny, hope you draft all the canucks you want xo
Q: He now looks like he’s going to throw up?? Still unsure if hugging or punching is required tbh
New message - Jack Hughes -
You sighed and rolled your eyes, before clicking on Jack’s message notification.
I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, sugar. I swear i am.
Sorry for categorising me as “boring family bullshit” or sorry that you got caught trying to get your dick wet? Or sorry for pretending to be my friend when you apparently just tolerate me to be polite?
We have press for two more hours then i can call you. You’re my best friend, sugar. I love you.
You felt tears start to prick in your eyes as you read Jack’s message. Sure, he loved you. But not in the same way that you loved him. And right now, you felt like that would never change.
You clicked out of your message thread with Jack without replying, and opened up your conversation with Quinn instead.
I’ll come to the all-star game on saturday, but nothing else, if that’s okay with you? I just need some space for a bit, sorry x
Whatever you need, kiddo. I’ll give the game passes to your dad tonight. I still don’t know what jack did, but i think not seeing you will be punishment enough for whatever it was??
You didn’t reply to Quinn’s message. You didn’t reply to any more calls or messages for the next day or so, switching between trying to catch up on study and catching up on some Netflix episodes. You were typing notes on your laptop on Saturday morning, when a New Jersey Devils Twitter alert popped up on the screen and caught your attention.
#NEWS: Jack went home to Jersey last night after participating in Thursday’s draft and Friday’s media hits. He was extremely honoured to be a part of All-Star Weekend, especially sharing it with his brother. He’s really close to returning and wanted to get back so he could continue to focus on the rest of the Devils season.
The bitter taste you thought you’d gotten rid of suddenly returned with a vengeance.
Jack went home to Jersey last night. You had no idea when you’d see him again. And to be completely honest, you weren’t even sure that you wanted to. Your laptop dinged again, this time with an email notification. You were confused to say the least when the new email appeared to be from an airline, with a voucher attached.
Your phone buzzed with a new text message.
I couldn’t stand being there knowing you’re mad at me, but i also don’t want to force you to talk to me when you’re not ready to talk yet either. Use the voucher to come to jersey whenever you want. I’m sorry.
You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, torn between accepting Jack’s offer and wanting to be stubborn and not let go of being mad at him just yet. You hated what Jack had done, but you also hated yourself for cutting short your time with him that was already in short supply as it was.
I’ll let you know. Might be a flight to Jersey, might be a flight to Michigan. We’ll see. Good luck getting back out there!
You knew the Michigan comment was a cheap shot, but Jack had hurt you, so you wanted to be childish and hurt him back. The idea of not seeing him for almost four months until the summer break, where you’d all gather at the Hughes lake house as you did every year, made you feel slightly ill.
Whatever you want, sugar. Mac n cheese in michigan on me. Love you.
The mac and cheese comment made you smile, and the love you comment made you want to cry.
Love you too, J. Maybe too much. I don’t know. I need time. x
#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#my writing#nhl imagine#jack hughes fanfiction
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Nervous
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.
#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#luke hughes#quinn hughes#new jersey devils#hockey fic#hockey imagine#hockey#nhl x reader#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl#nhl hockey
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Hughes!sister where maybe she’s the youngest, and gets her first boyfriend?
Angst twist he cheats on her 😨
LOOK AFTER YOU – Hughes brothers x hughes sister!reader
summary: break ups are the worst, but your brothers are there to make things better.
note: angst and the boys being absolute angels (kind of!). Titled after the song "Look after You" by the Fray!!
warnings: cheating, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n and y/n/n, implying of sexual acts, angst, friend betrayal,
word count: 2.3k+
You couldn't tell if the wetness on your cheeks were tears or apart of the pouring rain that surrounded you. You also couldn't tell how long you'd been walking in the rain with your arms cradled to your chest as your heart broke.
Your boyfriend of ten months had cheated on you...with your best friend, of all people.
You'd taken the bus over to her house to drop off some ice cream because she'd cancelled plans claiming she was "sick". The door was unlocked and having known your best friend since you were four, and knowing that you were basically family, you had walked right in.
You had called out her name, but when you'd listened closely you could only hear loud bangs coming from upstairs. Startled, you grabbed a rolling pin from the countertop and ventured upstairs.
"Oh come on baby, you know you like it,"
You had paused in your steps, your heart pounding painfully as the voice echoed. You knew that voice. You knew that tone.
"Oh, yeah?"
Your friend's voice teased from the room down the hall. Your eyebrows furrowed as a pang of trepidation rang through your body, you took a few more steps down the hall, avoiding all the obvious creaks.
Your mind was screaming at you to leave, but your gut encouraged you to continue.
"Does she take you like this? Does she feel as good as I do?!" Your friend's moaning made you inwardly cringe. Her high-pitched voice was awkwardly timed and trying hard husky in a way you knew to be fake.
"y/n? Never...you know that,"
Your eyes widened at the voice as blood rushed into your ears. In an impulsive move, you bound forward and shoved open the door to the room. You heard joined gasps and clattering as your best friend and boyfriend separated as much as they could.
He had, had her bent over her childhood bed, both stark naked with their hands up almost comically.
You had let out a stiff laugh, a sob bubbling in your throat as you dropped the rolling pin.
"Wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like!" Your best friend had cried out, her widened eyes full of tears.
"So you're not sleeping with him?" You had scoffed, trying to keep your tears at bay as you glanced between the two. Your friend had gone to speak again before you'd raised a hand silencing her. "Y'know what? I don't care. I'm done with you...both of you!"
You had let out a breath before you rushed out of the house, ignoring all of the yelling for you to come back and to stay and to talk this out. Your bottom lip had trembled as you half-ran, half-walked down the street, knowing that you'd taken the last bus to visit your friend.
As you had walked home, you replayed the moments of your relationship in your mind, searching for clues, for signs that you had missed. But the memories were like shards of glass, sharp and fragmented, cutting through the fragile fabric of your hope.
By the time you reached the familiar street where you lived, the rain had soaked through your clothes, seeping into your skin like the cold tendrils of betrayal. You quickened your pace, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The warm glow of light spilt from the windows, casting long shadows on the rain-slick pavement below.
With a deep breath, you gathered the shattered pieces of your resolve and stepped forward, your freezing hands shaking as you unlocked the door. Stepping into the home had you fighting your vicious sobs, as your hand covered your mouth.
"Y/n? Honey? Is that you?"
You let more tears spill over onto the flesh of your cheeks at your mom's soothing tone. Crap! You glanced down at your watch with a groan. You'd missed family dinner.
This wasn't good.
"Yeah, Mom," you called back, your voice cracking slightly as more tears escaped the corners of your eyes. Your head tilted upwards as you silently begged to not be beckoned into the room. "I'm just going to go dry off!"
"Y/n/n? Come here!"
You choked on a sob as Jack's usual teasing voice joined your mom's. The sound of chatter and eating paused and you knew there was no avoiding your family at this rate. You sucked in a breath before you entered the dining room, drops of rain dripping across the floor as you went.
As you stepped into the dining room, the warmth enveloped you, contrasting sharply with the chill that had settled deep within your bones. All eyes turned toward you, concern etched on your family's faces as they took in your dishevelled appearance.
"Y/n, what happened? Why are you all wet?" your mom asked, dropping her fork with a voice laced with worry.
"Oh, it's...uh, nothing," You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside you. "Just got caught in the rain, that's all." You watched as Luke and Jack furrowed their brows, yet continued to chew through their food as you trembled from the cold outside.
But Quinn didn't seem to be buying it.
He studied you, with a penetrating gaze. "Are you sure? You look upset." He pushed, leaning back in his seat.
"Yeah, I'm fine, really," You averted your eyes, unable to meet his gaze as your lips shook. "I'm going to...I'm going to go dry off."
"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" Your dad spoke up, his tone gentle yet probing.
"N-no," you croaked in response. Without another word, you fled. You could feel the weight of their concern bearing down on you like an oppressive blanket. With shaky steps, you ran from the echoes of their worried voices as they followed you like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind.
Each step felt heavier than the last as you ascended the stairs, the creaking of the wooden boards beneath your feet a sombre melody accompanying the turmoil within you. The tears threatened to spill over again, blurring your vision as you reached the sanctuary of your room.
Collapsing onto your bed, you buried your face in the pillow, muffling the anguished sobs that wracked your body. The betrayal gnawed at your insides, a relentless beast tearing apart the remnants of trust and love you had held dear.
Your best friend was practically your sister, the two of you had been joined at the hip since meeting in pre-school and the fact she'd slept with...been sleeping with your boyfriend.
That betrayal hurt more than your actual boyfriend's betrayal.
You'd trusted her. You'd told her every single detail of your relationship with him, including your insecurities about not being enough for him or not having enough experience to be with him, with him being your first-ever boyfriend.
Despite going out with your boyfriend for ten months, you'd never told your brothers. Your mom and dad knew you were in a relationship but whenever you organised for him to meet your parents, he always found something to come up so that he couldn't. You weren't sure he'd even told his family that the two of you were together but you dismissed all those red flags because you had loved him and he had said he loved you back.
A soft knock on the door drew you out of your misery as you lifted your head from your now wet pillow.
"I'll be down in a minute," you called out in a shaky voice that was half-muffled by the pillow. You heard the door creak open and you buried yourself further into the comfort of your bed. "Please don't...just leave..." You felt someone settle on the side of your bed.
"Y/n/n? We're not leaving,"
You rolled over, exposing your puffed face and reddened eyes. Quinn sat beside you whilst Jack and Luke lingered by your door, both awkwardly standing with their hands in their hoodie pockets.
"Please just go," you mumbled with a sniffle. Quinn lightly shook his head, his hand brushing your mussed hair out of your face.
"What about 'we're not leaving' wasn't understood?" Quinn tutted, resting his hand on the side of your head. "You're upset."
"Great observation," you choked, shifting out of his comforting grasp. You were hit with a twinge of guilt as you shuffled away from your eldest brother. More tears escaped your eyes as you spoke again. "I just want to be left alone."
Quinn sighed softly, his gaze filled with understanding as he reached out to gently wipe away your tears. "I don't know why you're hurting, y/n," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. "But pushing us away won't make it any easier. Let us be here for you."
His words cut through the walls you had built around yourself, chipping away at the barriers you had erected to keep the pain at bay. With a heavy sigh, you relented, allowing yourself to lean into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence.
Jack and Luke exchanged a silent glance before slowly making their way into the room, their footsteps hesitant as they approached your bed. Jack cleared his throat awkwardly, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the face of your distress.
"We're not going anywhere, y/n," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity as he sat on the end of your bed. "We're your brothers, and that means we get to beat up people who make you sad... let us help?"
Luke nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring the concern etched on Jack's face. "Yeah, y/n/n," he added as he cleared his throat. "We're here for you."
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were not tears of despair, but tears of gratitude. With a shaky breath, you reached out and squeezed Luke's hand that had outstretched towards you.
"I had a boyfriend," you sucked in a breath as the three around you stiffened and straightened up, exchanging glances as you spoke.
"Boyfriend? You've got a boyfriend?!" Luke burst, breaking the silence of the room.
"Not the time," Jack scowled, smacking him across the head.
"Had?" Quinn softly prompted, his eyebrows furrowing as you nodded.
"For ten months," you confirmed with a gulp, hot tears trailing down your cheeks.
"Ten?!" Luke exclaimed once more, but this time both, Jack and Quinn, reached out to hit him. "Okay, okay, sorry!" You let a small and amused smile at your brother's typical antics as you furrowed deeper into your bed.
"We dated for ten months and..." you pushed as your voice broke. "I found him in bed with my best friend."
Quinn's expression softened, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I'm so sorry, y/n," he said softly, his voice tinged with empathy. "That's a lot to deal with."
Jack's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at the thought of someone hurting you in such a way. "Those two are dead meat," he muttered under his breath, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.
Luke's eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to find the right words. "I can't believe they would do that to you," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with disbelief. "And you've known her since you were younger!"
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face as you recounted the painful betrayal. "I trusted them," you whispered, the weight of the betrayal heavy on your heart. "And I...I thought they cared about me, but guess I was wrong, wasn't I?" You let out a terse laugh, that became engulfed by another sob.
Upon the change, Quinn wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up into a comforting embrace. "They don't deserve you," he said firmly, his voice laced with conviction. "You're better off without them."
Jack nodded in agreement, his expression fierce as he clenched his jaw. "We've got your back, y/n," he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "Say the word and they're both dead."
Luke reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your knee. "I can egg their houses?" he suggested softly, his eyes reflecting the unwavering support of his words.
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of their support lift some of the burden from your shoulders. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Quinn pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace offering warmth and solace amid your pain. "I'm glad you told us...you don't have to do anything alone," he assured you, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room. "None of us want to see you hurt and alone, what kind of brothers would we be if we let that happen?"
Jack and Luke nodded in agreement, their expressions determined as they echoed Quinn's sentiment. "We've got you," Jack reiterated, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
"Now, why don't you get up and get changed," Quinn suggested, his nose shrivelling as he thumbed the fabric of your soaking T-shirt. "You're shivering and your lips are blue." Your fingers reached up and brushed your lips which were freezing to the touch. "We saved you some dinner, so go shower and change."
"We can have a movie night or something, " Luke threw in, his eyes wide in realisation. "We haven't had one in a while...not since last summer at least."
"I'm with him on that," Jack agreed, pointing to Luke with his thumb. "We can make a quick trip to the store and grab snacks while you get ready." You bit your lip to stifle a fond smile as you slowly pushed yourself to put your feet on the ground.
"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. With a shaky breath, you wiped away the last traces of tears from your cheeks, steeling yourself against the lingering ache of betrayal.
With newfound resolve, you straightened your shoulders and met your brothers' gaze with a small yet genuine smile. "Let's have that movie night," you said, determination lacing your words. "I could really use a distraction right now."
Quinn returned your smile, his eyes reflecting pride and admiration. "That's the spirit," he smiled, his voice filled with warmth. His hand squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as you passed him.
As you made your way to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of your tears, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain of betrayal, you knew that you were not alone. With your brothers by your side, you would weather this storm and emerge stronger than before.
#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#nhl x reader#hughes brothers x reader#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes x reader#wineauntie#quinn hughes fluff#hughes!sister#quinn hughes x y/n#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes fanfiction#hughes brothers fanfiction
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NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER!
pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader
request: could u pls write something with jack teaching the reader how to skate? maybe she’s just awful but he finds it so cute and he’s so proud when she manages to something he taught her 😭
warning(s): kissing, fluff, established relationship, barely edited (only skimmed i think twice?), ending is kind of random as i wasn’t sure how i wanted to end it !
word count: 1.6k
author’s note: to whomever requested this, i hope it is to your liking!! i think i may have changed your request a bit, but i still hope you enjoy it <33 feel free to send any requests you have, i’m finally going through them :) —mari
"Are we the only ones here?" Your voice echoes faintly in the empty expanse of the skating rink, as you and Jack stroll into the serene emptiness. One of his hands is warmly ensconced in yours, while the other deftly balances both pairs of skates, as well as a helmet wedged underneath his arm. You make an impish attempt to reach over and grab your skates, but he swiftly moves them just out of your reach.
"Wait," he warns, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he teases you, playful anticipation radiating his aura.
Jack leads you to a seat on one of the weathered wooden benches that encircles the perimeter of the ice rink. With a graceful flourish, he drops to one knee before you, his skilled fingers deftly undoing the laces of your shoes. As he slips your skates onto your feet, his strong hands envelop your ankles, firmly but not uncomfortably, ensuring they are snugly secured. He ties your laces with ease, occasionally glancing up at you to gauge your reaction and make sure everything felt just right.
You can't contain your excitement, practically beaming with elation as you lean affectionately into Jack's shoulder, when he settles next to you to begin lacing up his own skates.
Today marked your inaugural foray into the world of ice skating. You had plenty of experience with rollerblading, and although ice skating presented a distinct challenge, being on ice rather than pavement, you held a strong confidence that not only would you adapt quickly, but you would excel at it.
Jack shifts his body to face you, his attention drawn to the hockey helmet resting on his left side. He reaches for it, intending to place it securely on your head, but your hand swiftly intercepts his, smacking it away with an assertive motion. You shake your head in disagreement, a hint of stubbornness in your expression.
"I don't need that!" You whine, and your lower lip pokes out in a pouty display of defiance.
Jack's laughter escapes in a throaty chuckle at your protests, but he ignores your whims by gently positioning the helmet on your head. With practiced ease, he tightens the bottom latch to ensure a snug and secure fit. "Better safe than sorry," he remarks with a playful grin, his actions reflecting a caring concern for your well-being.
Something about witnessing you in his element, swathed in his oversized sweater and donning his helmet adorned with the number 86 on the front, ignited a fresh wave of desire within Jack. It was as if this very moment was tailor-made to rekindle his love for you, to remind him of the innate perfection of your relationship. The idea of teaching you to skate at a local rink in Michigan, so close to your shared hometowns, felt like a picture-perfect scenario, filled with nostalgia and an honest promise of new memories.
Rising to his feet, Jack extends his arm toward you, and you eagerly seize his hand. As you arrive at your feet, the transition happens a bit too quickly, causing your legs to wobble within the confines of the skates. This sudden imbalance leads you to stumble, and you instinctively brace yourself against the reassuring solidity of the wooden bench. Jack can’t help but burst into laughter at your momentary mishap, his head shaking in amusement at your initial stumble, marking it as the first of many moments to come on this eventful day.
Approaching you with an amused smile, Jack uses both of his hands to assist you back onto your feet. Once you are standing again, he casually drapes an arm over your shoulder, drawing you closer. Together, the two of you take tentative steps onto the ice's smooth expanse. "C'mon, sweet girl," he encourages, "we've only got an hour."
As you cautiously glide along the ice in your skates, it becomes abundantly clear within moments that this endeavor was going to be exponentially more challenging than roller skating had ever been. The initial confidence you had regarding ice skating had quickly dissipated, replaced by a sense of unease and uncertainty.
"Don't let go." You caution, still taking a provisionary moment to acclimate to the unfamiliar terrain beneath your skates.
Jack flashes a reassuring smile, his grip on your hands unwavering as he essentially guides you around the rink. "It's just like riding a bike."
You cast him an incredulous glance, and his expression turns momentarily blank. "You do know how to ride a bike, right?" he asks.
Smacking him on the shoulder, you shake your head, a slight grin breaking across your lips. "Of course I know how to ride a bike, Jack. It's just a bad analogy," you quip, punctuating your words with a playful eye roll.
It's a few more minutes of the two of you gliding around the ice, Jack remaining vigilant, ensuring you don't lose your balance, before a progressive, newfound sense of confidence wells up within you, allowing you to feel secure enough to venture out of his protective embrace. "I'm ready to go solo now," you declare.
Jack slows to a halt, his hands gently releasing yours. Hesitantly, your legs propel you forward, gliding across the ice with increasing assurance. Your hands extend out in front of you as you gradually pick up speed, and with infectious enthusiasm, you call out to your boyfriend, "Jack, look! Look at me!"
He breaks into laughter, a heartfelt and infectious sound that reverberates from deep within his belly. "That's my girl!" he cheers, his eyes filled with pride and adoration as he watches you on the ice.
"This is so ea—" You start to twist around to glance back at him, your excitement almost tangible, but as you make an attempt to turn, your skates get tangled, and you comedically tumble onto the ice with a resounding thud.
Jack gasps, his face a mask of shock that valiantly tries to suppress another bout of laughter. Quickly, he glides over to you, bending down to offer his hand to help you up. "Are you okay?"
You don't intend to turn this humorous moment into something more profound, but as you stand in Jack's warm embrace, gazing up at the joyful grin on his face and the rosy flush in his cheeks from the chilly air, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. "I'm really happy to be here with you," you admit, sincerely.
After your slight mishap, you and Jack continue to glide across the ice, enjoying the remainder of your time together. Laughter fills the air as you goof off, and you manage to keep your balance, thankfully avoiding any more falls. However, as the clock ticks down to the last ten minutes, you skate over to Jack with a hopeful expression. "Can we please try the jump from Dirty Dancing?"
It's Jack's turn to shoot you an incredulous look. "That seems dangerous."
"You don't feel comfortable lifting me on the ice?" An exaggerated frown graces your lips.
"I do, but I'm not entirely sure you'll be able to skate over to me and jump." He's teasing now, subtly mentioning your last fall without mentioning it.
You gracefully fold your arms like a ballerina twirling in her ballet shoes, effortlessly gliding in a small circle. "See? I've improved. Can we please give it a try?"
Jack stares at your pleading expression, shaking his head in surrender.
"Okay fine, but if this goes south, and you injure me, then the entire state of New Jersey will have your head."
You skate to the opposite end of the rink as him. "What about me, huh? What if I get injured?"
"This was your idea!" You can't help but laugh at his statement, unable to control your amusement.
"Okay, on three," you initiate a countdown, your voice laced with anticipation. As each number passes, your excitement builds, and when you reach one, you explode into a spirited sprint toward the opposite end of the ice rink. Jack stands there, prepared and determined, waiting for your arrival.
You launch yourself into a full-fledged jump, the cold air whipping past you as your body takes flight. Jack effortlessly catches you, his strong hands securely gripping your waist as he attempts to lift you over his head. However, a sudden wave of nervousness washes over you, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as best you can with your skates on, drawing yourself closer to him.
Jack's lips curl into a smile as he playfully questions, "What was that?"
You confess with a hint of embarrassment, "I got scared." And despite your initial hesitation, being in Jack's arms makes you feel safe and exhilarated all at once.
Jack's lips find yours almost instantly, and as they meld together, it feels as if your mouths were designed to fit together seamlessly. Your fingers delicately tug at his hair, provoking a soft gasp that grants your tongue access to his mouth. Your tongues engage in a sensuous dance, their movements intricate and synchronized, creating a passionate connection that's almost like a meticulously woven tapestry of desire and longing.
Jack withdraws from your lips, his forehead coming to rest against yours as you both gasp for breath. "I'm so obsessed with you," he confesses, his words laden with desire.
Arching an eyebrow, you tease, "I'm telling the boys you said that so they can make fun of you."
He buries his head in the crook of your neck, a deep groan escaping his lips. "Please don't."
#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfiction
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UMICH DORM
˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .
parings: jack hughes + fem!reader
summary: the one in which jack meets you in luke’s dorm and you are a friend with luke’s benefits.
🗒️: nothing to say just that this family has a great genetics (reminds me leclerc family too) cause god the hughes brothers are hot 🥵
type: fluff ಇ
Jack Hughes strolled down the well-lit UMich dormitory hallway. His younger brother, Luke, was playing for the Michigan Wolverines hockey team, and this was Jack's first visit to see him at college. Luke had assured him that it was fine to drop by his room whenever, so without hesitation, Jack reached the door with Luke's room number.
Without much ceremony, he opened the door, unknowingly stepping into a moment that would leave an indelible mark in his memory. There, on Luke's bed, was a young woman he'd never seen before. She wore one of Luke's Michigan Wolverines hockey team hoodies, the oversized garment hanging off her frame, and nothing but panties. Her presence in Luke's room was as surprising to Jack as his presence was to her.
She spoke softly as Jack entered the room, a hint of irritation in her voice, "Who the heck are you?"
Jack offered a friendly smile, hoping to ease the tension. "I'm Jack, Luke's older brother. You must be... Luke's girlfriend?"
Y/N's laughter filled the room, a playful glint in her eyes. "Girlfriend? No way! I'm just a friend. Who the hell just walks into someone's room like that?"
Jack smiled, appreciating her candor. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like this. I thought you were, well, his girlfriend. You're wearing his hoodie."
She shrugged, her gaze still fixed on him. "Oh, this? I just borrowed it because it's comfy. Not my fault if it smells like him."
Jack's amusement only grew, and he found himself drawn to her spirited personality. He nodded, acknowledging her point. "Fair enough. I'm sorry for the intrusion. I'll see myself out."
Y/N's eyes sparkled, and she playfully quipped, "You better, Mr. Intruder."
As Jack quietly closed the door and retreated down the hallway, he couldn't help but reflect on the intriguing encounter. He knew, deep down, that he had to find a way to see her again.
#🏒. — hockey works ⋆∴#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes headcanons#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#luke hughes#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#nhl fic#nhl hockey#hockey x reader#hockey imagine
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Jersey || J. Hughes
Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.
Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end
A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3
“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.
Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”
Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.
“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”
Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.
“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.
Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”
Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.
You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?
You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.
And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?
It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.
Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.
Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.
He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.
So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?
Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.
Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.
Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…
A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.
I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.
The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?
Perfect.
Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.
You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.
Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.
Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.
“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”
So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.
“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.
Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”
Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”
Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.
More confident, too.
Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.
Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.
“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.
You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”
As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.
Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.
What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.
Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.
Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.
The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.
“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.
“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”
Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—
“Oh,”
Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.
But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?
Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.
He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.
He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.
You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…
The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.
“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.
“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.
Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.
A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.
“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”
You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.
“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.
Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.
“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.
They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.
Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.
He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.
You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”
You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.
Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.
All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.
“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.
As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”
Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”
“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”
You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.
“Oh! You guys worked it out?”
You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color. “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”
“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.
Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.
“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.
You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.
The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.
“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.
You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.
It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.
“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”
“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.
You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.
He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.
“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.
“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”
All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.
It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:
Home.
Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.
You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.
The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.
Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.
Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.
And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.
He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.
Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.
When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.
The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.
“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”
A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”
Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”
You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.
“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.
“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.
You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”
You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.
After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.
“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.
You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”
Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.
He had to approach this conversation delicately.
He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.
“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.
Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”
Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”
“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”
Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.
“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”
The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.
He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.
“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.
“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”
Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.
Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.
“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.
“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”
Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”
“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”
That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.
Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.
“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”
The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.
“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.
“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.
“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.
“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.
“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”
You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.
Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.
“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.
Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.
You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.
“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.
“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”
You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.
Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.
Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.
You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.
A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))
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My Sunshine
Jack Hughes X Reader
Part 1
a:n This is a little shorter than I wanted, but it's jack's intro and I think it's really cute. pretty much a bunch of fluff. the next chapter will be released on Friday since I am working on Lukes next. Message me to be added to the tag list and lmk what you think.
Masterlist Link
Summary: Jack and Y/N meet by chance at their local coffee shop on a day clouded with uncertainty. A piece of good news finds its way to Y/N, giving her the strength to keep moving forward.
Word Count - 3685
...
The air in the dimly lit home is heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog that clings to your skin as you stumble through the door. The alcohol coursing through your veins dulls your senses, making the world around you feel distant and muted.
Jason sits on the worn couch, his posture rigid and unmoving, like a statue carved from ice. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now bore into you with an intensity that sends a chill down your spine.
The shadows cast by the weak light play across his face, accentuating the hard lines of his jaw and the deep furrows of his brow.
As you come into view, disheveled and intoxicated, his features contort with a mixture of anger and disappointment. The lines around his mouth deepen, his lips pressed together in a thin, disapproving line. His eyes narrow, the icy blue of his irises almost grey in the gloom, like a winter sky heavy with the promise of snow.
"You're home late. Where were you?" His voice is calm, but it carries an edge.
You try to steady yourself, but the room spins around you, the walls closing in as if to suffocate you. You struggle to find your words, your tongue thick and clumsy in your mouth, the taste of regret bitter and metallic.
"Out with the girls," you manage to slur out, the words sounding hollow and unconvincing even to your own ears. You kick off your heels, the clatter breaking the heavy silence like the crack of ice on a frozen pond.
He rises from the couch with a deliberate slowness, his movements calculated and menacing, like a predator stalking its prey. The air seems to grow colder as he approaches, the chill emanating from his body palpable even from a distance. He closes the distance between you, his presence looming over you like a gathering storm.
He latches onto your purse, his grip tight and possessive, his fingers digging into the soft leather like talons. "You were flirting with other guys, weren’t you?"
His words are laced with accusation, each syllable like a shard of ice piercing your already raw nerves. The cold fury in his voice is like a winter gale, cutting through you and leaving you shivering in its wake.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, you shake your head, movements jerky and unsteady, as if your body is fighting against the weight of his accusations.
"No, Jason, I told you, I was just out with my friends. I wasn't flirting with anyone." The words feel hollow and meaningless. The chill of his gaze seeps into your bones, leaving you numb and aching.
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he towers over you, his broad frame blocking out what little light remains in the room. "I don't believe you, Y/N. You've always been too friendly with guys. I know you're hiding something from me."
Desperation claws at your chest, you plead with him, your voice cracking with emotion, "I'm not hiding anything! Why can't you trust me for once?" The question hangs between you.
Your words are a desperate prayer for understanding, for forgiveness, for a chance to thaw the barrier that has grown between you and salvage what's left of the love you once shared.
His grip tightens on your purse, his knuckles turning white with the intensity of his hold. His eyes blaze with a fury that seems to consume him from within.
Under the weight of his gaze, you feel small and insignificant.
"Because every time I trust you, you betray me! You're always sneaking around, meeting up with guys behind my back. I can't take it anymore!" His voice rises with each word, the volume cutting through your silence,
Tears spill over onto your cheeks, the hot saltwater a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that fills your chest. They cascade down your face, leaving glistening trails that reflect the lights.
"Jason, please… I love you, but I can't keep doing this. I can't live like this anymore." The words come out in a choked whisper.
For a moment, his expression softens, the hard lines of his face smoothing out like snow drifts in the fleeting warmth of the sun.
"You're just like all the rest. Always looking for an excuse to leave me. Well, go ahead then. Leave. See if I care."
With a final, wrenching sob, you turn away from him, your footsteps heavy and leaden as you make your way towards the door.
The cold metal of the handle bites into your palm as you grasp it. But before you can turn the handle, Jason's voice cuts through the silence, his tone suddenly weary and defeated.
You pause, your hand still resting on the doorknob, your heart pounding in your chest as you brace yourself for whatever new accusation or insult he's about to hurl your way.
But when you turn to face him, the expression on his face is one you've never seen before. Gone is the anger and the suspicion, replaced by a look of guilt and shame that makes your stomach twist.
"I've been seeing someone else for the past few months. I... I didn't know how to tell you."
You stare at him, your mind reeling as you try to process the implications of his words. All this time, while he was accusing you of sneaking around and betraying him, he was the one who was being unfaithful.
"How could you?" you whisper, your voice barely audible over the roaring in your ears. "How could you do this to me, to us?"
Jason shrugs, his eyes cold and unapologetic as he meets your gaze. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but what did you expect? It's not like we were going to last forever anyway. You pushed me away, always nagging and complaining about every little thing. I felt like I was suffocating in this relationship."
"When I met her, it was like a breath of fresh air. She understands me in a way you never could. She doesn't try to change me or control me like you do."
You thought you knew him, thought you understood the depths of his love for you.
…
2 months later
You stood in line at 'The Brew' coffee shop, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you like a comforting embrace. The rich scent of roasted beans mingled with the subtle sweetness of vanilla and caramel.
Ahead of you, a charming elderly couple deliberated over their order, their laughter filling the cozy space. The woman poked her husband, her lips curved into a playful smile. "Do you think we should try something new today? Maybe one of those fancy lattes?" Her voice was a melodic lilt.
Her husband chuckled softly, the sound a deep, rich rumble that seemed to emanate from his very core. His hand rested gently on his wife's shoulder. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her.
"You know how much I love my black coffee," he said, his voice a soothing baritone. "But if you want to try something new, I'm more than happy to indulge you."
As you waited patiently, your eyes wandered to the man next to you, who seemed lost in thought. He was engrossed in a conversation on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration, creating a series of deep lines that etched themselves into his forehead.
He shuffled his feet nervously, the movement causing the light to catch on the polished leather of his shoes. His gaze flickered to the menu before him, a brief moment of indecision flashing across his face.
Your curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him, admiring the way the soft, golden light of the café danced across his features, The angles of his jawline were sharp and defined, a stark contrast to the soft, inviting curve of his lips.
The air seemed to crackle with an invisible energy. Who was he speaking to, and what stories lay hidden behind those piercing, enigmatic eyes? The questions danced on the tip of your tongue, begging to be asked, as the world around you faded into a blur of color and sound.
the man beside you turned, his eyes catching yours in a moment of recognition. His lips curved into a charming smile, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he spoke.
"Oh hey, you're my neighbor, right?" he asked, his voice smooth and warm, like honey drizzling over freshly baked bread. “You live on Baker Street?”
You blinked, surprised by his sudden acknowledgment. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, "Yes, I do" you replied, your own voice soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to his confident tone. You felt your shyness begin to fade, melting away like frost under the warmth of his gaze.
"I'm Jack," he said, extending a hand towards you. His movements were fluid and graceful, his arm cutting through the space between you with a sense of purpose.
As he reached out, you noticed the way his fingers flexed, the tendons in his hand shifting beneath his skin like the strings of a finely tuned instrument.
You shook his hand, your own fingers grazing against his skin. His hand was warm and firm, his grip strong and reassuring. You could feel the roughness of his palm, the slight calluses on the skin.
"I'm Y/N," you said, your own name sounding foreign and new on your tongue.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Jack said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. The light seemed to dance in his irises, like stars winking in a midnight sky. "I've seen you around, but we haven't had a chance to chat."
"I'm usually too shy to say hello," you admitted, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. The heat rose in your face, painting your skin with a rosy hue. Your gaze darted away from his, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his attention.
"Well, I'm glad I broke the ice," Jack said. His words were punctuated by a soft chuckle, the sound rich and inviting, like the first sip of a perfectly brewed cup of coffee. "I'm a bit of a chatterbox myself."
You laughed, finding yourself drawn to his easygoing nature. The sound of your laughter mingled with the ambient noise of the coffee shop. As the line moved forward, you approached the counter, your steps falling into sync with Jack's.
Standing nervously, your gaze fixed upon the menu, you tried to focus on placing your order. Jack stood beside you, his voice was a soothing hum, his sapphire eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched you deliberate over your choices.
As you opened your mouth to speak, Jack's voice broke the silence. "Can I have a banana muffin? And whatever she's getting, we're together." His words caught you off guard, and you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise.
Before you could protest, he raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful smirk. "Yeah, I'd like a banana muffin and a green tea as well, thanks." You uttered to the cashier.
The barista nodded, punching in the order as you stood there, momentarily stunned by Jack's gesture. You managed a small smile, your heart pounding erratically in your chest.
…
You collected your drinks and made your way to a nearby table. Settling into your seats, you wrapped your hands around your warm cup, the heat seeping into your skin and grounding you in the moment.
Jack's gentle gaze fell upon your hands, and you suddenly became aware of your own nervous habit. Your fingers were picking at your cuticles, a subconscious gesture that betrayed your inner anxiety.
"You should stop doing that, you'll do some serious damage to your cuticles," Jack said softly, placing his warm hand over yours.
"Nervous habit," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of conversation around you.
Glancing at Jack, you found his piercing gaze already fixed upon you. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, seemed to see right through you, as if he could read your every thought and emotion. You felt exposed, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable.
"So, Y/N," Jack said once you had paid, his voice smooth as honey. "What brings you to The Brew today?"
You fumbled through your words, your shyness threatening to hold you back. But as you looked into Jack's eyes, you saw nothing but patience and genuine interest. He listened intently to your every word, his focus unwavering as you spoke.
"Just a quick drink to fuel my day," you replied, your fingers fidgeting with the cardboard sleeve of your cup. "I have a lot of work to catch up on."
"Sounds like my kind of day," Jack said, his lips curving into a sympathetic smile. "I play sports, so I spend a lot of my down time at coffee shops."
A playful glint flashed in your eyes as a sudden burst of confidence surged through you. "Oh, so this is something you do all the time? Talk to pretty girls in coffee shops?" you said, your tone light and teasing.
Jack's eyes widened, and he sputtered, caught off guard by your unexpected quip. You raised your hands in surrender, a grin spreading across your face. "I'm kidding, Jack. What do you play?"
a laugh escaped his lips, the sound rich and warm. "Ice hockey for the Jersey Devils," he stated nonchalantly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of recognition. You nodded, a hint of uncertainty in your response. The name sounded familiar, but it was never a sport you had invested much time in.
You vaguely recalled Jason, your ex, being an avid Rangers fan, and you assumed the Devils must have been the team he was always passionately screaming about during games.
"I don't know much about the sport, but it sounds like fun. Do you enjoy it?" you asked, your tone genuine and curious.
Jack nodded, his response somewhat reserved, as if he didn't want to delve too deeply into the subject. Shifting the conversation, he inquired, "What do you write?"
"Novels, mostly," you replied, your eyes lighting up as you spoke about your passion. "Romance usually, and when I can, I help out with this sports magazine, ya know."
"I love reading romance novels," he said, his confession causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You hadn't pegged him as the type to enjoy the genre, but the revelation only served to intrigue you further.
"Well, then I guess I'll have to add you to my mailing list," you said, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
With each sip of your green tea, you felt your nerves slowly melting away. Jack's laughter filled the air, the sound rich and infectious, and for a moment, you forgot all your worries.
As you finished your muffin, savoring the last few bites, Jack turned to you, his eyes holding a hint of something more profound.
"I'd like to see you again," he said, his voice a gentle whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe we could exchange numbers if you want to, of course?"
A surge of excitement coursed through your veins, your heart beating a little faster at the prospect of seeing him again. "Yeah, I'd really like that," you said back. You smiled, feeling a flutter in your heart as you exchanged numbers, your fingers brushing against his as you handed him your phone.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N," Jack said, his voice warm and sincere. His eyes lingered on yours, holding your gaze for a moment. "I hope to see you around."
"I hope so too, Jack," you replied.
…
The sterile smell of disinfectant mingles with the faint aroma of latex gloves. You sit nervously in the doctor's office, your foot tapping an anxious rhythm against the tiled floor. The ticking of the clock on the wall seems to echo in your ears.
The door opens, and the doctor enters, a warm smile gracing their features. Their white coat rustles slightly as they move, the fabric crisp and pristine. The doctor's presence brings a sense of calm to the room.
"Hello, Y/N," they say kindly, their voice soft and soothing. They take a seat across from you, the leather chair creaking slightly under their weight. "Let's get started, shall we?"
You nod, swallowing hard as a lump forms in your throat. Your hands fidget in your lap, fingers intertwining and untwining as you try to calm your nerves. The doctor begins by asking about your medical history, their pen gliding smoothly across the clipboard as they jot down notes.
The conversation shifts to your recent symptoms, and you describe the fatigue that has left you drained and listless, the nasal swelling, and the tender breasts that have made even the slightest touch uncomfortable.
After discussing your health, the doctor suggests running a few tests to confirm your suspicions. "We'll start with a urine test to check for the presence of hCG," they explain, their tone reassuring. They hand you a small plastic cup, its surface cool against your fingertips. "I'll be back shortly to collect the sample."
You take the cup, your hand trembling slightly as you rise from your seat. As you make your way to the restroom. The tile floor feels cold beneath your feet.
In the privacy of the restroom, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. You follow the instructions, your movements mechanical and precise. As you cap the sample, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation.
You return to the examination room, the plastic cup clutched tightly in your hand. The doctor takes the sample, offering a reassuring smile as they prepare to run the test.
The minutes seem to stretch into hours as you wait, the silence broken only by the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of voices in the hallway. The waiting is the hardest part. The doctor returns to the room, a reassuring smile on their face.
"Thank you, Y/N. Now, while we wait for the results, can you tell me the date of your last menstrual period and any potential dates of conception?"
You take a deep breath, trying to focus your scattered thoughts. As you provide the information to the best of your recollection, a knot forms in your stomach, the memories of those moments flooding back to you.
The doctor nods, jotting down the details on their clipboard. They ask a few more questions, their tone gentle and understanding, the conversation flows naturally.
After what feels like an eternity, the doctor excuses themselves to check on the test results. The room falls silent, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall, each second a reminder of the life-changing news that awaits you.
When the doctor returns, they have a file in hand. They take a seat beside you, their expression softening as they meet your gaze. There's a warmth in their eyes, a sense of understanding that puts you at ease, even as your heart races in anticipation.
"Y/N," they begin gently, their voice filled with compassion, "the urine test came back positive for hCG. It looks like congratulations are in order—you're pregnant."
A wave of conflicting emotions washes over you, a tempestuous sea of feelings that threatens to overwhelm you. Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and sorrow, hope and fear. The doctor places a comforting hand on your shoulder.
They talk about prenatal care, healthy lifestyle choices, and the importance of self-care during this transformative time but it's tempered by a sense of overwhelming sadness, a bittersweet realization that this moment is not quite as you had imagined it.
…
As you step into your home, the weight of the news settles upon your shoulders. Your hand instinctively finds its way to your stomach, a gentle caress that acknowledges the life growing within you.
You look around the living room, your eyes falling upon the photographs that adorn the walls and shelves. Images of you and Jason, frozen in moments of happiness and love.
One by one, you lift heavy pieces of furniture, rearranging them with a vision of a brighter future. The familiar layout melts away, replaced by a canvas upon which you can paint your hopes and dreams.
Framed photographs and cherished trinkets that once held sentimental value now seem like relics of a bygone era, you gather them up, your heart no longer clinging to their memories. The walls, once adorned with the echoes of a broken past, now stand bare, ready to be filled with the laughter and love of a new chapter.
You run your fingers lovingly over the smooth surface of your stomach just as you finish your cathartic cleanse, your phone chimes with a message.
You pick it up, a smile spreading across your face as you see Jack's name on the screen. You settle into the couch, sinking into the soft cushions as you eagerly open the message.
"Hey there, I was thinking about you. How about dinner tomorrow night? I know a great little Italian place."
Your fingers hover over the screen, poised to type a response, but hesitation grips you. Your fingers hover over the screen, poised to type a response, but hesitation takes hold. The news of your pregnancy weighs heavily on your mind, a secret that both excites and frightens you.
You know you should tell him, but doubt creeps in, insidious and persistent. You and Jack aren't even officially dating yet. Your relationship, while promising, is still new and undefined.
The thought of burdening him with this life-altering news so early on feels unfair, potentially derailing the tender connection you've begun to forge. What if the prospect of fatherhood sends him running?
"Dinner sounds perfect," you type, hitting send before you can second-guess yourself.
…
Tag List <3
@fearfam69691, @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3
#fluff#angst#masterlist#x reader#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#timo meier#njd#new jersey devils#luke hughes#dawson mercer#jack hughes x reader#new fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes masterlist#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x sister!reader#new writers on tumblr#nhl x reader#hockey imagine#nj devils#jh86
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❄️ ˖ ࣪ ‹ 🏒⁺˖ ⸝⸝ HOCKEY BOYS AS UR FWB! luke hughes, jack hughes, gabe perreault, connor bedard
navigation | merry christmas you guys! here’s a little chaotic and fun post i decided to make bc why not? as always, enjoy, and happy holidays!! ❄️
luke hughes
jack hughes
gabe perreault
connor bedard
#luke hughes#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes smut#jack hughes#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fluff#gabe perreault#connor bedard#connor bedard x reader
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STUBBORN PRIDE
WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes is too stubborn to let Fem!Reader peacefully sleep on the couch.
Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with. He was stubborn and never seemed to take things seriously and he never really listened to a word anyone said. Everything always went in one ear and out the other. Like when Y/N told him she’d be on the couch for the night so she could have space, for example. It seemed space was not a word in Jack’s dictionary, because he strolled into the living room with his hands in his pockets and his lips whistling a soft tune.
Y/N glared at him from her spot on the couch, watching as he stopped a few feet before her. There was a smooth grin on his face, almost like he had plastered it on for appearance’s sake, like it masked the true nature of his feelings as he hid them with that usual unbothered smile of his.
“Is there room for one more?”
“No.” Y/N said bluntly, promptly turning away to face her back to him. She didn’t have to look back to know his face was curled into that pout of his, the dangerous one that did too good of a job of convincing her to give him his way.
“Okay, fine.” Jack huffed, and then she heard the soft thud of his body settling on the floor, making her itch to turn and peek over the edge of the couch.
Y/N succeeded at ignoring for him for approximately thirty seconds before the curiosity got the better of her and she swallowed her pride and took a quick look. sure enough, he laid curled on the hardwood floor, limbs awkwardly sprawled as he stared up at her with innocent eyes.
"What are you doing?" Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, and he stared at her like she’d asked a silly question, and maybe she had. Being hard to get rid of had always been Jack’s specialty, and she should’ve known better by now that retiring to the couch was never enough to retire from him.
"I’m going to sleep. What does it look like I’m doing?" Jack said like it was obvious. She almost smacked him with her pillow for his tone, but she had half a mind not to. It was the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, and it wasn’t her problem he forgot the single most important thing when it came to sleeping.
"Well, why here?" Y/N scowled, making him shrug as he settled his hands behind his head and looked up to the ceiling.
"Seems like a good spot to sleep if you ask me.” He said casually. “Nice hard floor to cushion my back, cool breeze of the air conditioning to keep me cold, and the clock ticking in my ear to keep me up. Sounds like the perfect place, eh? And if I get bored, we even have a TV.”
"I let you have the bed, you idiot.” She pursed her lips.
"Who needs a bed when I can sleep on the hardwood floor next to my sweet, pretty girl?”
Y/N cut him off before he could finish, feeling the last possible vein she could preserve while dating a man like Jack Hughes pop. "Well, then I’m going to use the bed if you won’t.” She sat up, grabbing her pillow and blanket.
And because he’s Jack Hughes, the bane of her existence and the sole cause of all her headaches, he sat up, too. "Good idea, baby. Let’s go.”
"No. You stay here, and I’ll take the bed."
"Okay.” Jack hummed, still not making any moves to lay back down.
Y/N quickly realized this wasn’t a battle she could easily win with him and she rolled her eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat as she glared down at him. Jack looked up at her with that same innocent look, those same wide eyes that blinked up at her like they couldn't possibly do any wrong.
"You do realize I’m not sharing the bed with you just because you're stubborn, right?" Y/N asked dryly.
Jack grinned, that familiar glint in his eyes that always meant trouble. “Well, I never said anything about taking the bed, now did I?”
"Jack, you can't possibly mean sleeping on the floor next to the bed.”
"It’s technically not the bed.” He insisted. “All you said is you're not sleeping with me. You never said anything about near me."
"Okay, I don't want to sleep near you.” She scowled.
"Nuh-uh, no way.” He shook his head. “You can't add rules now. It’s far too late."
"Jack, I swear to fucking God.”
"So, what'll it be? Bed or couch?"
"I hate you.” Y/N grumbled, settling back down on the cushions of their living room couch, back once more facing him. She could hear his body softly settle back onto the floor again, and after a few beats of silence, he spoke up again.
"Can I use your blanket? I’m cold."
"No."
"C’mon, just toss half of it over the edge, I’ll scoot over. We can make it work somehow.”
"Are you intentionally trying to piss me off?" Y/N snapped as she sat up, glaring down at him once more.
Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with. He was stubborn and annoying and so stupidly handsome. He made her eyes soften before she could help it as they grazed over his messy hair and the soft glow of his lip balm. He made her anger ebb away slowly no matter how hard she tried to latch onto it just from that toothy grin of his. He made her forget they were arguing and that she should be mad when she noticed the soft, gentle traces of love in his eyes.
So, Y/N blinked as she watched him, letting out a quiet sigh as he shook his head and offered her a small, innocent smile, one that told her he loved her, that he wasn’t mad, and that he'd wait on the cold, hard floor with no pillow and blanket for her as long as he needed to.
"No.” Jack chuckled. “No, I’d never want to make you mad. You’re scary when you get mad.”
"That’s rich, coming from someone who’s supposed to be a big, strong hockey player.” Y/N muttered, making him laugh softly. And she wasn’t mad anymore, not as much as she was just a bit ago. Maybe it was because she loved him too, even despite the way he made her veins pop, and her patience thin, and her head ache with that aggravating personality of his. Maybe that's what love was, when even the bad and the ugly were part of the good.
"Behind every strong man is an even stronger woman.” He cheekily remarked, his grin never fading.
"Just come here.” Y/N groaned, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.
Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He didn’t even waste a single moment as if he'd been expecting it all this time as he climbed in beside her and pulled her into his chest. It was cramped and slightly uncomfortable as her legs dangled over the edge and her pillow barely fit under both of their heads, but his body was warm and his arms held her tight and she could faintly make out the thrum of his heart against her body. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, not if it was with Jack.
"Did you miss me too much?" Jack wriggled his eyebrows, pouting when she shoved his face away as he leaned in for a kiss.
"You still haven't earned kisses back yet.” Y/N grinned. “Goodnight, Jack."
"But I can't sleep without a goodnight kiss.” Jack pouted, softly nudging her with his shoulder.
"I love you.” Y/N cut him off with a giggle. Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with, but she thought that she won this time.
#jack hughes#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes x female reader#jack hughes x fem!reader#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jh86#new jersey devils#jack hughes drabble#jack hughes thoughts#jack hughes angst
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𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who didn’t think he was going to love you as much as he does. You started as fwb and the more time you spent together, the harder he fell for you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who keeps your relationship private but not a secret. He’s not afraid to post you on his instagram and does so quite regularly.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who goes through his comment section and deletes all the rude comments about you because he doesn’t want you to see them. He gives Trevor, Cole, Alex and his brothers his insta details so they can help him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so so happy to see you in the crowd wearing his jersey. Knowing you’re his #1 fan means the world to him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who makes an effort to take you out on a date at least once a week because he knows the hockey schedule is brutal and he doesn’t want you to feel neglected.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is terrified he’s going to mess up somehow or the hockey is going to become too much for you and you’ll leave him. He calls Quinn at least once a week and Quinn has to reassure him. This goes on for at least the first year of your relationship. After that he feels a bit more secure.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so happy seeing you and his brothers interact that he’d happily sit and observe your interactions as long as he gets to touch you somehow.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 loves spoiling you and constantly buys you flowers and gifts despite you telling him not to.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how you team up with his little brother in the summer against him and Quinn. You’re just as competitive as them.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who takes you home for the summer before you were official and everyone, especially his mom, could see how in love he was with you. After much prompting from his mom and his brothers he finally asked you to be his girlfriend out on the dock where his mom he set up a little picnic.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets jealous easily and appreciates the reassurance you give him when he needs it.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who thinks it’s hilarious that you get all pouty when you’re the one who’s jealous. He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous that you’d think he’d ever entertain anyone else when he has you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who doesn’t hesitate for a second to drop the gloves when someone says something mean about you on the ice.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how well you get along with his friends and thinks it’s hilarious that they start inviting you to hang out and not him. You get added to the group chat and the messages always reads “come hang out, we miss you. You can even bring Jack”
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you before and after every game.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who randomly tells you he loves you because he needs to make sure you know.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who carries a ring in his pocket for about a year before finally asking you because he was nervous you’d say no.
nsfw headcanons
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is very handsy all the time. His hands constantly wanders to places deemed a little inappropriate in public spaces. He especially gets handsy when they had a really good game and he’s high off the win and the team goes out to celebrate. Hands are on your ass 24/7
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who stares at you with so much lust in his eyes sometimes it makes you breathless. and it makes his brothers gag. He also stares at you with so much love in his eyes which also makes his brothers gag.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves buying you lingerie. especially red ones.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can’t look at your freshly done nails and not think about them wrapped around his dick.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves fucking you from behind while you’re wearing his jersey. He’s the type of guy to take a picture and send it to your ex who’s been bothering you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves cumming on you. On your face, ass, boobs. Just loves seeing you all messy for him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can both fuck you like a whore and a princess depending on the mood.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is a little embarrassed by how easily you can get him on his knees
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who cannot control himself in the summer when you’re wearing bikinis and denim shorts and summer dresses. There’s always so much skin exposed and he loves marking you up. You’ve given up on trying to hide the marks.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets a little turned on when you get possessive of him. Kissing his neck with lipstick on, he won’t wipe it off, he’d wear it happily.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you and you guys have phone sex on every road trip. He has a “spank bank” of videos and photos of you but it doesn’t compare to the real thing.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets the urge to go home and get you pregnant whenever he sees you interact with a child because you’re going to be such a good mom.
#jack hughes x you#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine
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I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE!! if you have time vould you maybe do a jack hughes smut where reader wears the rival teams jersey to piss him off and its like rough??
its been rotting in my brain for forever 😭
[ bitter rivals ] j. hughes
paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary : just to make her boyfriend mad after a fight, (Y/N) wears a Flyers jersey to the Devils’ game against Philly in Newark … and she feels the consequences afterwards
warning(s) : smut ! rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, slight choking, hair pulling, possessiveness, pet names during sex. light angst
author’s note : hear me out … i was having a moment so i decided to tackle this request. not to mention i have been wanting to write something like this for a hot second so here we are. that’s how we got here so i hope y’all enjoy. i always have time to write some jack hughes smut too
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It's been nearly a week since their fight and (Y/N) hasn't heard from her boyfriend. Normally she wouldn't do something drastic since it's only been a week, but she feels like doing something drastic.
Instead of walking into the Prudential Center wearing a red 86 on her back, she wears an orange 11. She gets looks from a few Devils fans who know of her relationship with Jack, but she truly doesn't care. She knows will always be loyal to the boys in red and black despite trying to be petty.
After grabbing something to eat and drink, she heads down to her front row seats that she purposely bought just to make this point. She'll be right on the glass for Devils warmups in a few minutes.
Until then, she enjoys her chicken tenders and High Noon while fans begin to gather at the glass to get a close up look at their favorite players.
The Flyers come out first for warmups in their white away jerseys, then the Devils come out in their black alternate jerseys.
(Y/N) sticks out like a sore orange thumb in a sea of red, white, and black around her. She gets a couple of looks from the fans around her when she stands up. but it doesn't matter. She’s just trying to prove a point.
No one would blame her if they knew.
On the ice, she watches Luke skate up to his older brother. His eyes flicker in her direction. Luke leans into Jack’s ear and says something to him, who looks right at her. He has a look on his face that she has never seen before. He looks so angry.
When he starts to skate over to where she’s standing, Jesper intercepts him as soon as he sees where he’s going. He says something to Jack but Jack’s eyes never leave his girlfriend. She waves at him with a sly smirk on her face.
Mission accomplished. He saw her.
Jack slaps pucks at the net in obvious frustration or anger. She doesn’t know which it is at this point. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if he takes a few penalties during the game.
If he’s angry now, it’s just gonna fester for the next few hours. She’s probably screwed but it’ll be worth it in the end.
The Flyers jersey doesn’t deter her from cheering every time the Devils score a goal.
When Erik Haula nets his third goal of the night, she makes sure she throws the beanie she’s wearing onto the ice. Technically it wasn’t even her beanie. Jack left it at her apartment and never asked for it back so she stole it for the game tonight.
Throughout the game, she does notice that Jack glances at her a handful of times with a look of fury darkening his usually bright blue eyes. He sends glares at her when she cheers for the one goal he scored in the third period that secured the Devils the win.
An angry Jack has never scared her, but his anger has never been directed at her like it is right now. She’s either in for the worst night of her life after the horn blares when the game ends, or she won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
Like she usually does after a game, she meets up with the other wives and girlfriends in a lounge by the locker room. Kristen Haula is the first one to approach her.
“What’s with the Flyers jersey?” she questions.
“Needed to prove a point to Jack,” (Y/N) replies. “That’s all. I’m not jumping ship or anything. We just had a fight and he hasn’t spoken to me in like a week. I proved my point so next game I’ll be back in a Devils jersey.”
Before Kristen can reply, Jack marches through the doors and immediately scans the room. His hair is still dripping from his postgame shower and he looks very disheveled, like he rushed to get ready.
His eyes land on her and she presses her lips into a line. Jack takes large strides over to her so it doesn’t take him very long to cross the room.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks. “A Flyers jersey? A Travis Konecny jersey? Seriously?"
Kristen smiles and silently walks away while (Y/N)’s eyes remain on Jack. “What? You don’t like my new jersey?” she asks with innocence in her voice.
He bites his bottom lip as he thinks about his response. She gives him the smallest of smiles while the gears in his head turn. "I want you to take it off," Jack tells her.
"Oh, Jacky," she sighs. "You wouldn't want me to do that if you knew what I wasn't wearing underneath this jersey."
She watches his eyes darken. "Let's go," he says to her. "We're going to my apartment right now."
Her jaw drops and Jack grabs her wrist. "Who said I wanna go anywhere with you?" she asks as she tries to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. "You haven't talked to me in nearly a week, Jack."
Jack turns and faces her. "Wonder why," is all he says. She raises her eyebrows at him. "Let's go, (Y/N). We can talk at my apartment."
This time, she lets herself get pulled out of the Prudential Center and into Jack's car. Luckily she caught an Uber to the arena. A very small part of her figured she would be leaving with her boyfriend after the game.
Neither of them speak as Jack drives from the arena to his Hoboken apartment. Her eyes are on the passing buildings and cars. She feels Jack's hand on her thigh at one point but she doesn't react to it.
Yes, she was teasing him with the "if you knew what I wasn't wearing" comment. Yes, she hopes they'll fall into bed. Falling into bed isn't happening until they talk. She wants to know why Jack hasn't talked to her in five days before his dick comes anywhere near her.
It's a silent car ride and a silent ride up the elevator to Jack's place. She can still feel how annoyed Jack is by the fact that she wore the opposing team's jersey and still cheered for the Devils. She's annoyed too. She's annoyed because she had to wear the opposing team's jersey just to get his attention.
Jack opens the door to his apartment and walks inside. She follows him as he throws his suit jacket onto a coat hanger by the door. She shuts the door behind her and watches Jack unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.
"Why?" she asks before he turns around. "Why did it take me wearing a Flyers jersey before I got your attention?"
He runs his fingers through his hair before he turns to face her. "I was thinking," he admits to her. "I was worried that I'd say something that I'd regret. I didn't want to hurt you, so I waited and actually took some time to think."
"Think about what?"
"Think about us," he softly tells her. "I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out if you actually meant what you said during our fight."
Her words come rushing back to her.
I don't know if I'm ready for this kind of life is what she had said to him.
"What did you think I meant by those words?" she asks.
"That you weren't ready for a life with me," he replies.
Jack is a beautiful man, but sometimes the smarts aren't there. Too many pucks to the head from Luke and Quinn.
"Jack, I meant that I didn't think I was ready to be an NHL wife," she tells him. "Of course I'm ready for a life with you, but it's everything that comes along with you. The spotlight, the eyes. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that."
The look that forms on Jack's face could make (Y/N) laugh. His eyebrows are raised and his mouth forms a little 'o'. She presses her lips into a line to suppress a smile. "I am such a dumbass," he says after he processes what she said. "Jesus Christ."
She wraps her arms around his neck and finally lets out a laugh. "You're my dumbass though."
When she leans in to kiss him, Jack pushes her away.
"Nuh uh," he says when she looks up at him. "I am absolutely not kissing you while you have that ugly ass jersey on. Not happening, (Y/N)."
Her eyes fall to the Flyers logo on her chest like she just remembered that she has the jersey on.
She reaches down between them and grabs the bottom of the jersey. Slowly, she pulls the fabric over her head to slowly reveal to Jack that she's not wearing anything underneath the jersey.
When the jersey is over her head, her eyes land on Jack. His eyes are wide while he looks her up and down. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he groans. “You really know how to piss a guy off. Not only are you wearing a Flyers jersey, but you didn’t even wear anything underneath.”
“Had to get your attention somewhere, Jacky,” she tells him as she gets up onto her tiptoes to attach her lips to his neck. “Glad it worked.”
Jack leans down and picks her up by the back of her legs. She wraps herself around him and keeps kissing and nosing at the skin on his neck as he walks somewhere in the apartment.
When he drops her on the couch, (Y/N) looks up at Jack and asks, “What about Luke?”
“What about him?” Jack settles comfortably between her knees.
“Won’t he be home soon?”
“Told him to find somewhere else to stay unless he wanted to see something that would scar him for life,” Jack tells her. “He told me that he’ll be at Dawson’s for the night. Now let me show you what happens when you decide to wear a jersey other than mine to a game.”
Yeah. She’s totally fucked. Literally and figuratively.
Jack ravishes her lips as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. A soft moan comes from her throat before she can stop it. One of his hands cups one of her bare breasts and the other cups her jaw. She tries to roll her hips against his to get some friction on her core, but he quickly puts a stop to that.
“I don’t think so,” Jack mumbles against her lips as he pins her hips to the cushion beneath her. “Only good girls get to come quickly tonight. You weren’t a good girl with the stunt you pulled.”
“Guess you didn’t like my new jersey,” she gasps as her boyfriend attaches his lips to the sensitive skin on her neck. “Or was it the fact that there was a different name on my back?”
The nip she gets is the answer she was looking for. Jack was jealous that another player’s name was on her back instead of his. She revels in the realization since it has been five days and it took wearing the jersey for him to talk to her.
He slowly begins to kiss down her neck and chest. He makes sure to give both breasts some attention before moving further down her belly.
Her fingers find a home in his now dry hair. She adores how soft his hair feels when it has just dried after a shower.
Jack’s fingers hook in the waistband of the leggings she has on. He slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body and kisses her hipbone when it’s exposed. She sighs as her boyfriend strips her of her pants. She kicks her sneakers off so Jack can pull them completely off of her.
She lets her legs fall open while Jack throws the leggings somewhere on the floor. Her soaked underwear is on full display for him. She watches his tongue dart out at his view.
“Touch me before I touch myself, Jack,” she orders him.
He goes back to hovering over her. A hand lightly wraps around her throat and she looks up at him in surprise. “You will do no such thing if you want to come tonight,” he retorts.
(Y/N) bites her lip at his words. She can’t remember the last time he spoke to her like this, but she is loving every second of it.
His other hand snakes between them and into the thin fabric of her underwear. A gasp comes from her lips as his fingers easily run through her slick folds. She wraps her hands around his arm to keep herself present.
“Jack,” she whines.
He cups her pussy and she has to stifle a moan. “Who does this belong to?” he asks.
“You, baby,” (Y/N) quickly tells him. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”
Jack leans down and presses soft kisses to her cheek and jaw. “Good girl.” His words shoot straight down to her already pulsing core.
Without warning, Jack stands up and pulls her up. He gets her on her knees and leans her against the back of the couch with her chest pressed against the cushions. In the reflection of the glass cabinet that’s behind the couch, she can see Jack undressing behind her.
He twirls her hair into a makeshift pony and gets on his knees behind her. Jack’s lips are on her neck right under her ear. “Tell me who fucks you until you can’t speak,” he whispers.
His low voice causes the knot that has formed in her belly to tighten.
“You do, Jack,” she replies. Jack pulls on the makeshift pony until she’s looking straight up at the ceiling. A soft moan passes her lips. “You fuck me so good. Only you.”
“Yeah, I do,” Jack mumbles as he presses her into the cushions beneath her. He doesn’t release the pony.
With one hand, he manages to get her underwear off of her and onto the floor with both of their clothes. She feels his hard dick between her legs and had to resist the urge to grind against it.
Her legs are practically shaking as she waits for release.
He leans over her and kisses the back of her neck for a second before he slams into her. She cries out in surprise because that was the last thing she expected to happen.
“Fuck, Jack,” she breathes out as he lets her adjust to him. “Give a girl a little warning before you destroy her.”
She feels him smile and mumble, “We’ll see.”
This boy is going to be the death of her.
A minute passes before Jack begins to rock his hips into her. She bites her lip to try and keep herself from making an embarrassing noise.
Eventually, she gives up because she’s worried she’ll make her lip bleed with how hard she’s biting down on it.
(Y/N) begins to meet Jack’s hips with every thrusts. She lets out soft moans and whines every time they meet. He lifts one of her legs up onto the back of the couch so he can get a new angle on her.
She has to lean against Jack’s chest as he continues to fuck into her at the new angle. “This pussy was made for me,” Jack pants into her ear. He wraps his arms around her to keep her steady. “Feels so good around me.”
She wants to say something, but she’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that she can’t form any. All she does is let out a soft whine in reply.
“See? No one else can fuck you speechless like I can.”
The knot in the bottom of her belly tightens. She has to force herself to form words. “Jacky,” she whines. “Wanna come. Been a good girl for you. Please.”
Jack kisses the swell of her ear and grasps her breasts. “You only wear my name, baby,” he pants in her ear. “My number on your back. No one else’s.”
“No one else’s,” she agrees. “Can I come? Please?”
He hums and she clenches around him as soon as she has his permission. She loses her vision for a moment as she comes on Jack’s cock. His name echoes throughout the apartment as she hits her high.
She had no idea that Jack could be like this. Maybe she’ll have to mess with him if she’s going to see this side of her boyfriend. She’s pretty sure that she’s never had an orgasm this intense in her entire life.
Without realizing because of how hard her orgasm hit her, Jack comes inside of her and slouches against her when he comes down from his own high.
When she comes to, she’s lying on her back on the couch and Jack is wiping her with a wet cloth. His boxers are on the lower half of his lower body and she pouts.
“Was that okay?” Jack asks before she can say anything. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”
She shakes her head and says, “It was perfect. It was more than okay. You were jealous.”
Jack laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe a little,” he admits. “I don’t like it when you wear other players’ jerseys.”
“Maybe talk to me next time and I won’t have to,” she teases. Jack rolls his eyes. “Anyway, can we go to bed? I wanna get your dick in my mouth and apologize in my own way.”
She’s surprised with how quickly Jack picks her up and whisks her off to his bedroom after that.
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