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#nhl fanfiction
sunkissed-zegras · 3 days
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fluffy blurb with luke hughes !!!
─ warnings | fluffy af! just lukey being pookie (as always), luke trying to learn how to braid hair is such a funny concept HAHAH
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"wait, wait. i don't get it, this doesn't make any sense." luke's voice came out frustrated as you let out a soft laugh at your boyfriend. luke's hands were in your hair as you explained to him how to braid hair.
since he doesn't have any sisters, the whole "braiding hair" thing was a mystery to him until he started dating you. and now, he was completely dead-set on learning how to braid hair so that on days when you felt tired, he could do it for you.
"okay, okay, slow down," he muttered, his brows furrowed in concentration. "explain it again. slower, this time."
"okay, so, you take this strand over here and cross it over the middle one," you explained patiently, feeling his fingers fumbling slightly. "then, you take the other one and do the same thing. like you know, a rope!"
after a few more attempts, luke finally managed to weave a somewhat passable braid, albeit with a few loose strands sticking out here and there. he grinned triumphantly, looking at his handiwork with pride. "hey, not bad for a first-timer, right?" he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
you looked in the mirror behind you and grinned at the curly-head. "wait, why is it so cute. do i look like katniss everdeen?"
"hell yeah you do!" luke grinned excitedly as you examined the braid. "whoa, i am such a fast learner. sit down, baby i gotta take a picture and send it to quinn and jack."
"why?" you laughed as luke practically pushed you back on to the bed.
"because they were convinced that braiding was too hard for me to learn," luke took out his phone and snapped a picture, his proud grin still evident on his face.
you chuckled at Luke's eagerness, shaking your head in amusement as he snapped away with his phone. "alright, alright, send it to them then,"
luke quickly typed out a message to his brothers, attaching the photo of your braided hair. as he hit send, he couldn't contain his excitement, practically bouncing with joy. "they're gonna be so surprised but i proved them wrong,"
you couldn't help but laugh, luke was such so adorable. "yeah you did," you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately.
luke gripped your wrists playfully and pushed you back, "not the curls! anything but the curls!"
you let out a playful gasp as luke defended his precious curls, pretending to shield them from harm. "okay, okay, i'll leave the curls alone," you teased, raising your hands in surrender.
luke grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "that's what i thought," he said, releasing your wrists and pulling you into a tight embrace instead.
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puck-luck · 1 day
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Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.
Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…
👉🏻👈🏻
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warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416
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The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.
Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.
“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”
“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”
“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”
Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.
He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.
“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 
“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.
When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.
“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 
“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 
Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 
It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.
Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.
Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.
You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”
“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”
“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”
Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 
You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.
But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.
“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”
“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 
You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 
The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.
He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.
When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.
You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.
“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.
“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.
“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 
Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.
“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 
When he didn’t reply, you tried again.
“Babe, talk to me–”
“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”
You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.
“Answer me. I asked you a question.”
“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.
“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”
“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 
Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”
“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.
“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”
“No,” you breathed out. 
“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”
You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.
“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”
The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 
“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”
“Can’t,” you whimpered.
“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”
You nodded and hummed an agreement.
Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”
“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.
“Help you what?”
“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 
Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 
You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.
“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 
He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 
“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”
Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.
“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.
You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 
“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”
All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 
He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”
Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  
He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 
You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.
A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”
He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.
“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.
“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.
You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.
“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 
You shook your head.
“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”
You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 
Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.
Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 
“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”
His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.
“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”
“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.
Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.
Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.
When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.
You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.
His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”
“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.
He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”
You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.
“I want to keep going,” you admitted.
“You know your word?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me?”
“Flower.”
“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”
You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).
“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.
“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.
“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”
You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 
Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 
Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 
For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.
His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…
You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.
Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”
You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.
“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 
“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.
He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”
Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.
Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.
“So wet,” he murmured.
You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.
“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”
“Mhm. Why else?”
Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.
You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.
Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 
“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”
“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 
“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 
“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”
“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 
It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.
“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”
You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 
“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”
And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.
“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”
Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.
“What are you smiling about?” He asked.
“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”
Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”
“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”
“You’re being a brat.”
“And your butt is small.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.
“I’m waiting.”
Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”
Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.
“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 
Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 
One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 
He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.
“I bet Johnny could do it better.”
Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.
 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.
Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.
“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”
Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.
It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.
He started by pinning your hips down.
“Greedy,” he chastised. 
“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.
Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.
It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.
“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.
“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.
“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”
You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.
“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.
“Untie it, please!”
Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”
You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”
“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”
“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”
Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 
It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.
“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 
“Just for you, Lu.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”
Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”
He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 
“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.
“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”
Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”
“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”
Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.
When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.
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notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.
SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)
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qrrieterisunnq · 2 days
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Congrats on ur 200 followers! I was thinking maybe headcanons with Quinn Hughes with a reader that is so energetic at random times!
thank you my love!! 🫶🏽 and thank you for the request. even though it wasn't in my list of requests I take, but it's okay my love! 🩷🫶🏽 I hope you'll like it!!
masterlist
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𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who loves his girlfriend so much, that even if he's tired after a long week of games, he's willing to go on an hour-long walk in the park, just to see her happy and with the biggest smile when she sees a squirrel on a tree.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who can't stop laughing at his too-energetic girlfriend, who is running around the apartment doing something, almost tripping over her foot every few minutes.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 that loves how his girlfriend can tire his two energetic brothers only in two hours of doing whatever comes to her mind.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 can't stop the smile forming on his lips whenever he comes back from a game and finds his girlfriend already standing at the door waiting for him to give him a hug and kiss.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 that has to laugh at his brothers' faces when they see how energetic his girl is even though they were on a ten-mile-long walk only an hour ago.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who loves how passionate is his girl over something so simple like a puzzle, mandalas, or baking cookies.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who love waking up to an apartment filled with a delicious smell and his girl in the kitchen only in his Vancouver shirt as she sways her hips and sings softly to the music she's playing from her phone.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who loves teasing his girlfriend, that if they had a baby, it would be all her. Not sleeping at night, always crawling on the ground, not being able to sit in one place for a few minutes.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who is sometimes relieved that his girl finally falls asleep and he has some time to do nothing just watch a hockey game playing on a tv.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who would never admit it, but he loves it when he, after his practice, finds his girl jumping around their apartment recalling her notes as she's trying to study for her upcoming exams.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who calls his girl crazy rat, when she's purposely annoying him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who loves how his teammates love his girl and are so excited to see her whenever she comes to the game or with him on practice.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who sometimes wished he had some sedatives with himself to calm her when she's too much to handle.
𝐁𝐅!𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 who can't imagine his life without his too energetic girlfriend.
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puckinghischier · 3 days
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Tattoos Together
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: based off of the song tattoos together by lauv
notes: this idea was way better in my head, but i still think it’s cute and turned out alright. i’m obsessed with this song and knew i just had to write a nico fic based off of it asap. also, i know the timeline is all over the place bc nico is captain in this, and holtzy and dawson are here, but it technically takes place after jack’s rookie season. the beauty of fiction is that literally nothing is real, so let’s just all pretend everything is normal and chronologically correct 😊. hope you enjoy!! :)
[2.7k]
~
Summer was your favorite season for a number of reasons. First of all, you loved the warm weather. Being able to sit outside and soak up the sunshine was something your body desperately craved during the bitter New Jersey winters. You also loved the overall happiness of the general population that seemed to radiate during the summer months. Your favorite reason, however, was the fact that your best friends were always available to do whatever you wanted them to, because hockey isn’t played in the summer.
You hated that the Devils didn’t make the playoffs this year. You were as devastated as they were during that last game of the season, but you can’t lie and say you weren’t also ecstatic. You knew, the moment they lost the game that eliminated them from any sort of play off position, you were going to get a summer full of sun and fun at the lake house.
You had decided to take the warm season off from any internships or courses, not wanting anything to come in-between you and nearly four, uninterrupted months with your boys at the lake. You had decided to transfer to a college in Jersey so you could spend more time with Jack, not so you could stay in a strange city while all of your friends go to your favorite place on earth.
This year was especially exciting, considering Jack had convinced a group of his teammates to join in on the summer antics. Your anticipation for the warmer weather to arrive was only heightened once you learned a certain hockey captain would also be in attendance at the lake house.
You had been drawn to Nico from the first moment you met him after Jack’s rookie debut. Jack was so eager to introduce the two of you. He had made quick friends with the Swiss player after his arrival in the garden state and he wanted nothing more than his oldest and newest friend to meet one another and hit it off. Nico gave short, but kind, responses when Jack called you over to speak to him outside of the locker room; you assumed he was just tired and wanted to get home, but once you had seen him leaning against the wall in a crowded bar a few hours later, you made it your mission to make a friend out of the quiet hockey player.
You found yourself enjoying his conversation a little too much, basically neglecting Jack on his big night. The two of you talked about anything and everything. Nico had been in the middle of a story about his siblings back home when you suddenly realized the danger you were in. You hadn’t even been around this man for more than a few hours, and you could feel yourself falling for him. His kind eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled, and the care and attention he showed every single person that came up to congratulate him on the win, while also never failing to listen to your stories and stay engaged in the conversation with you, was making you spiral in the best way.
You knew you couldn’t go there, though. He was a big shot hockey captain, and you were only here for school. With the team’s busy schedule, you didn’t know when you would see him again. As soon as the light feeling in your chest had appeared, you forced it to make its exit. You couldn’t fall for him. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for him.
Over the next few months, however, you found yourself in Nico’s presence more often than not. Any team event that Jack dragged you to, you always found your way to where Nico was, striking up innocent, friendly conversation. If you were attending a home game at the Prudential Center, you were always cheering for Nico anytime he made a particularly important or skillful play. When he would come over to yours and Jack’s shared apartment, you always had some excuse for needing to be in the kitchen when they were, or passing through the living room and then planting yourself on the couch between the two ‘out of boredom’.
Nico wasn’t making it easy for you, either. Anytime the captain would score on the ice, it was you he was pointing towards during his celebration (or sending a text to ask if you were watching as soon as he was in the locker room for intermission, if it was an away game). If he had plans with Jack he would always send you a message, inviting you to tag along. Nico had even memorized your class schedule and your coffee order, bringing you your caffeine fix on lecture mornings when he would pick Jack up for morning skate. You found yourself talking to Nico almost more than you spoke to Jack, finding it harder and harder to keep your promise to yourself.
Jack could sense the underlying feelings you had for his captain, being able to pick up on all of your tells from the many years of friendship. He saw the way your gaze would immediately start sweeping any room you entered until it settled on Nico. He pretended not to notice the way you would always come out of your room on the mornings Nico was coming by before practice, hair and make-up already done, sitting in the kitchen to ‘work on homework’ before your lectures. He noticed when you bought his captain’s jersey, alternating between the 13 and 86 jerseys every other game. He noticed the way you would instantly perk up at the mention of Nico’s name in any conversation.
Jack also noticed the way Nico tried, and failed, to hide the feelings he had for you, as well. He noticed the way Nico would skate out for warm-ups and look around the glass until he saw you, waiting a few minutes before he made his way over to the glass where you were standing, pretending to be surprised when he turned around and found you behind him. Jack noticed the way Nico suddenly wanted to always come over to his apartment instead of Jack going to what the team refers to as the ‘captain’s quarters’. He noticed the way Nico would always come back with your favorite cocktail in hand anytime you were with them on a night out.
The back and forth between you and Nico continued for months, neither one of you ever taking the next step to admit feelings for one another. Jack wished the two of you would just get it over with at this point, the inevitable apparent to everyone but yourselves. So, when Jack opened the lake house invitation to Nico, Alex, and Dawson this summer, he can’t lie and say he didn’t have some ulterior motives.
Now, as you and Nico walked ahead of everyone else, lost in your own little world, he knew he made the right decision.
You had just eaten dinner, Jack having made reservations at a local seafood place he was dying to take everyone to, when you announced you wanted ice cream. You had suggested the small ice cream shop a short walk from the restaurant, wanting to stay out in the small lake town a little bit longer. You had sat next to Nico at dinner, staying in your own conversation most of the meal, being brought into the larger conversation happening around you only if either of your names were mentioned. The conversation followed the two of you outside, talking about his upcoming trip home.
“So, when are you leaving this utopia?” You asked him, shoulders bumping as you walked on the sidewalk beside him, a car driving by, causing your sundress to ruffle and flow in the passing wind.
“Not until the end of the month. Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?” he responds with a playful smile, putting his hand on your back, pushing you over to the inside of the sidewalk, placing himself closest to the active road beside of you.
“Not even close,” you link your pinky with his, a habit you’ve gotten into anytime you’re walking beside him. “Dreading the day, actually. This is your first summer here, and you don’t even get to experience the best part!”
“I thought the best part was that you were here?” he references the statement you made when trying to convince him to make the trip to Michigan for the summer.
“Well, the next best part,” you respond, waving off his words. “You’re going to miss the boat parade on the Fourth of July!”
“A…boat parade?” Nico questions.
“Yes! A boat parade! Everyone decorates their boats and then drives them around the lake. Everyone here goes crazy for it. People don’t spare a single expense when it comes to boat decorations. One family even paid those statue street performers to play Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty on their boat on year,” you explain, earning a laugh from Nico.
“Why do I have the feeling you would have done that if you thought of it first?” he asks in-between chuckles.
“Because I would’ve! I was so mad that I didn’t even think of it. The only year we haven’t won it. Well, other than the years we haven’t been able to make it up here,” you shrug, thinking of all the time you’ve missed out on in the past few years.
“Well, you’ll have to come up with something even crazier this year. To make up for all the lost time,” Nico squeezes your pinkies closer together, knowing how much you hate the summers you can’t come here. “Look, you could go get a tattoo of the American flag, or something. Decorate your body, not just your boat. Really commemorate the summer,” he points to the tattoo shop you’re walking past, laughing at the craziness of the idea.
Maybe it was the heat finally getting to you. Maybe it was all the lake water you had swallowed the past few weeks. Or maybe it was the build-up of the months worth of feelings you’ve had for the man in front of you, but something in you made you say “Let’s go do it.”
“What?” Nico stopped in his tracks, looking over at you like you had three heads.
“I said let’s do it,” you said again, a serious look on your face.
“As in let’s go let you get a tattoo of the American Flag?” he asked again, confirming the idea forming in your brain.
“Yes. Well, I mean no. But yes,” you start, letting go of his pinky you were still holding on to. “I mean, let’s go get tattoos to commemorate the summer, like you said.”
“Like…right now?”
“Yes, right now. Why not? It’ll be fun. At the very least it’ll be a story to tell one day,” you try to convince him, acting as if this isn’t the most out of character thing you could suggest.
“I mean, what would we even get?” Nico asks, the word ‘no’ never coming out of his mouth.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or anywhere where everyone will see it. It can just be something we know we have, y’know?” you continue to try to convince him.
“Hey! Why’d you two stop? The ice cream shop is another block down.” Jack asks as the rest of the group approaches the two of you.
“Y/N is trying to convince me to go get a tattoo with her right now,” Nico tells everyone, earning a collection of shocked faces.
“You two? Getting matching tattoos?” Dawson asks, looking between the two of you.
“They don’t have to be completely matching. Just something to make us thinks of this moment. This summer,” you explain. “We could all get one, actually. As a group!”
“You’re out of your mind if you think any of us are getting tattoos right now,” Jack speaks up, not scared to call you out on your stupid ideas.
“I don’t think it’s that crazy of an idea. It could be fun,” Nico surprises everyone.
“Cap, are you serious? You’re thinking about going and getting a tattoo right now?” Alex questions.
“I’ve been thinking about getting another one for awhile now, so why not right now? Like she said, it’s a good summer memory, Holtzy” Nico shrugs, sounding like he’s made up his mind.
“Of course you would agree to get a matching tattoo with her. You guys are practically attached at the hip anyways,” Dawson says, causing both you and Nico to flush a light shade of pink. “You guys go have your fun, get matching tattoos, but we’ll be eating ice cream, loving the taste of no regrets,” Dawson gives up the fight.
“Just…don’t get each other’s names on your foreheads,” Jack says, shaking his head as he walks away.
Dawson and Alex follow Jack, grumbling about how they can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. Alex slides in a “at least ask her on a date first, cap” as he walks away, Nico praying you didn’t hear the comment.
You turn towards Nico, holding your hand out. “You ready?”
He takes your hand, letting you pull him into the tattoo shop’s open door. “Let’s go get tattoos together.”
An hour later, you and Nico walked out with two fresh wounds on your ankles.
Both of your tattoos were so small you truly had to look for them to notice them. You had ended up getting tattoos that were technically matching, but could have meaning on their own, too. The artist had laid out a bunch of stencils she had ready to go, letting you pick from the pile which ones you wanted. You had found a small heart with devil horns, pointing it out to Nico and jokingly suggested he get it to show his Devils heritage. At almost the exact same time, his eyes landed on a small heart with a halo over it, his eyes lighting up.
He had agreed to get the devil one only if you got the matching angel one. So, twenty minutes later, the stencils were placed and you both sat on the table as two different artists tattooed you simultaneously.
The rest of your small group teased the two of you about it for the rest of the summer. After Nico left at the end of that month, the conversation shifted from teasing about the tattoos, to teasing about when the two of you were finally going to admit your feelings to each other. You waved off their words, sticking to your explanation of you two being just friends, but they didn’t let you forget that, in their words, you ‘basically branded’ their captain.
When Nico arrived home, Nina immediately clocked the small tattoo on her brother’s leg, questioning him about it. He told her it was just a last-minute decision, something to do after the season was over, not wanting to hear any nagging about how irresponsible it was that he let a girl he was even dating talk him into getting a matching tattoo. But, when Nina saw your Instagram post at the end of the summer, the very last picture showcasing a small, familiar looking angel tattoo, she barged into Nico’s bedroom, demanding answers.
“Nico, you better explain to me what the hell is going on here, because last time we spoke you hadn’t even told her you have feelings for her yet,” Nina interrogated Nico in their native language.
“Yeah…well that hasn’t really changed. Just…haven’t found the chance yet,” he avoids talking about the tattoo, choosing to talk about the other half of her question.
“Well after this, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she moves back home after she graduates next year and just leaves me behind?” Nico voices his fears to his older sister.
“Nico, she asked you to get matching tattoos. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the same way as you. I haven’t even fully met the girl, only having talked to her on your facetime calls, and I can see that she’s head over heels for you,” Nina encourages Nico, causing a warm feeling in his chest at his sister’s words.
“Well, when you put it that way…” Nico trails off, thinking about the events of this summer in full. “You know what, you’re right. As soon as I get home, I’m telling her. What’s the harm? And if she doesn’t have feelings for me, well, at least we’ll always have tattoos together.”
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homestylehughes · 1 day
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boyfriend quinn headcanons
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pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader
summary: headcanons of bf!quinn!
wc:703
warnings: fluff, cute soft quinn, smut 18+!
authors note: hi guys!! i randomly had this idea this morning so i thought id write about quinn and how i think he'd be as a boyfriend! hes been taking up too much of my mind recently LOL. i hope you guys enjoy!! more fics are coming up later this week! like and reblog if you like <3. as always much love <3
happy reading <3
Sfw/fluff: 
Bf!quinn: quinn would be the type of boyfriend to wake you up with kisses all over your body, tracing his hands all over your back. Quinn would love looking at you while you're sleeping, not in a creepy way, in a loving way, that he couldn't believe that you're his.
Bf!quinn: he would give you one on one skating lesions, holding your hand whenever you feel like you're going to fall. He'd insist that he put on your skates, tying them extra tight and patting your leg to make sure you're okay. Quinn would laugh at you when you get excited about skating on your own finally, giving you a forehead kiss, saying he's proud of you. 
Bf!quinn: After a long day at work, when he knows you've had a bad day, he'll cook you your favorite meal. Even drawing you a bath, that you then insisted that he had to get in with you. He would ask you about your day, you would tell him as you lean comfortably into his touch as he runs his hands all over your body to help you relax. 
Bf!quinn: quinn lovesssss when you wear his jersey to a game, he loves seeing you in the stands in his jersey, cheering for him and the rest of the team. He loves the support that you always give him. Waiting for him by the locker room, giving him the sweetest hug and kiss. Always letting him know that you're proud of him, win or lose. 
Bf!quinn: quinn loves how you are around his family, how you think of them as your family. How you laugh and joke with his brothers, talk hockey with his dad, how you embarrass him and smile with his mom. He loves the relationship that you have with them. His family jokes that if you guys ever broke up, his family would be more hurt than you or quinn. 
Bf!quinn: quinn would definitely get baby fever when seeing you around children. Imagining if they were your kids, wanting nothing more than to pull you home, and make his dreams come true. 
Bf!quinn: quinn loves to be babied, he loves when you let him be the little spoon. His favorite way of being babied is when he comes home after a long road trip is throwing himself into your arms, dragging you to the bedroom, quickly getting changed and laying down on top of you. His face finding its way to your neck, nuzzling himself in your body breathing in your scent. He'd quickly fall asleep as you play with his hair, and rub your hands up and down his back.
nsfw 18+ below: 
Bf!quinn: quinn is definitely a munch. He could spend hours in between your legs, even when you try to push him away he always comes back. He could never get enough of your cunt.  
Bf!quinn: He loves marking you up, showing everyone that you're his. He can't help but feel a sense of pride when he looks over the marks. Smirking to himself, knowing you'll yell at him when you see how dark they are the following day. 
Bf!quinn: quinn is obsessed with your boobs, he considers himself a lover of both ass and boobs equally but his downfall is your boobs. Any chance he has to kiss, bite, lick them he takes advantage of it. You can't even count on your fingers how many times you guys have been late to dinners because your boobs are “calling his name.”
Bf!quinn: quinn loves when you take control during sex, it's a side of you that he doesn't get to see a lot but he loves it when he does. The view of you on top of him riding him, never fails to take his breath away. 
Bf!quinn: Your moans? Oh gosh your moans. They make his knees weak, He loves hearing how responsive you are. His favorite is when you moan lowly in his ear, feeling your warm breath fan his face. When you drop your head back and your mouth is hanging open as your body shakes in pleasure. 
Bf!quinn: loves everything about you.
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misshoneyimhome · 2 days
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can we get some brothers best friend action with will?
where reader is mitch marner’s twin sister, and for as long as every one can remember, william and reader have always silently swooned and liked one another, and constantly blatantly flirted with each other. but reader had a long-term boyfriend, who might i add is/was super toxic and she physically couldn’t break up with him in fear he’d hurt her… so when they eventually did break up after he had done something bad to her, she ran to will’s apartment, not knowing who else to go to.
“No, I’m not leaving you like this.” Will
“Just tell me what you want.” Will
“I want you.” Reader
Absolutely, we can! Well, at least I hope we can 💓
I tried to portray your idea, but I wasn't sure if I made it too heavy 😅 I'm typically not into darker themes, but I found my thoughts naturally drifting in that direction 💓😉
If there was meant to be more of a smutty undertone, please let me know - I believe there could be a continuation, but I didn't feel it would mesh well with the dramatic scene 😉
Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers; mild abusive!boyfriend, toxic relationship; language, hurt emotions; happy ending, I promise!
Word count; 3.1K
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50, @findapenny
・✶ 。゚
Storm & Thunder - “No, I’m not leaving you like this!” I William Nylander 🖋️🔥
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For as far back as anyone could recall, there's been an undeniable connection between you and William Nylander. Growing up as Mitch Marner's twin sister, your life was closely linked to his from the early days of being drafted. And ever since the chemistry between you and William was unmistakable, simmering quietly beneath the surface like a promise yet to be fulfilled.
It all started innocently enough, with playful teasing and banter exchanged during family dinners and time spent in the hockey community. Initially, you were just friends; William saw you as nothing more than his good friend’s sister, and you were happy with that. However, as time passed, something changed between you, developing into a deeper, more significant bond.
It was in the stolen glances across crowded rooms, the gentle touches when passing each other in the hallway of the training arena or after games, and the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he flashed his trademark smirk at you.
And you knew you weren't alone in sensing the magnetic attraction between you. William's gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary, his smile slightly softer when directed at you. Though neither of you dared to articulate your feelings, the truth was apparent in the way your bodies drew closer together, pulled by an invisible force that seemed to strengthen with each passing day.
Even your friends and family couldn't deny the vibe. They shared knowing glances whenever you and William were in the same room, nudging each other with sly smiles as if to say, "I knew it."
But despite the undeniable chemistry and the encouragement from those around you, something held you back—a silent agreement that neither of you dared to break. Maybe it was the fear of messing up a good thing, or perhaps it was the uncertainty of what lay beyond the boundaries of your friendship. Mitch had never outright forbidden you from dating his teammates, but there was a lingering sense of loyalty, a feeling that taking things further with William might upset the delicate balance of your relationships.
So, you and William circled around each other, caught in a never-ending game of cat and mouse where the stakes were higher than either of you cared to admit.
Timing, in particular, had never been on your side.
Despite the undeniable connection between you and William, there was one unsurmountable obstacle standing in the way - your boyfriend, Marc, who cast a dark shadow over your life.
At first, Marc seemed like a dream come true. As the true gentleman he was, he showered you with attention, affection, and gifts, making you feel incredibly fortunate. The sex between you was nothing but amazing and intense, dare you say, almost addictive. And his presence in your life gradually expanded, until it felt like he was a permanent fixture in your small studio apartment.
However, as time passed, his once-charming facade began to crack. He became possessive, demanding, and controlling, suffocating you with his actions and leaving scars deeper than any physical wound could. You weren’t allowed to socialise freely with your friends, your work hours were restricted to 9-5, and attending hockey games was only permitted on weekends, if at all.
You attempted to break free from his grip numerous times, but each effort only seemed to tighten the chains that bound you to him. Marc wielded power over you with precision, manipulating your emotions and exploiting your vulnerabilities until you felt unworthy of anything better.
He was a skilled manipulator, a true narcissist who thrived on exerting dominance over you, leaving you feeling powerless and isolated in your suffering.
You weren’t entirely naïve, though. Deep down, you did recognise your own worth. You knew you deserved love, respect, and care. Yet, the fear of Marc's anger, his violent outbursts, and the harsh words he directed at you, kept you ensnared in a cycle of psychological abuse and manipulation.
The thought of what he might do if you tried to break free, of the repercussions that would surely follow if you dared to defy him, was unbearable. So, you remained, trapped in a prison of your own creation, suffocating under the weight of a love that had turned toxic long ago. And as days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to lose hope that you would ever find a way to escape his grasp and reclaim your life.
Yet, even in the darkest moments, amid the suffocating despair, there was a glimmer of hope—a lifeline that you clung to with all your strength. And that lifeline came in the form of William Nylander, the Swedish figure who had always seen beyond the façade you'd constructed around yourself and into the depths of your true self.
He understood the truth, perhaps better than anyone else. Not even Mitch, your own twin, could grasp the extent of your suffering, but William did. He noticed the faint bruises beneath your sleeves, the forced smiles that failed to reach your eyes, and the way you flinched at the slightest unexpected noise. Although Marc had never physically harmed you, his tendency to grab onto you had left marks on your arms.
"Try and leave him, y/n/n – we’re all here for you," William would gently urge you, his voice a comforting salve to your wounded spirit, fully aware that leaving wasn't an easy choice for you to make.
"I-I can't, Willy," you'd sob, tears choking your voice as you sought refuge in his embrace, your heart burdened with the dread of what awaited you at home.
William grasped the complexities of your predicament and proceeded with caution, never pushing you beyond your boundaries but always offering steadfast support.
Through every tear and every outburst, he remained by your side, a guiding light in the darkness threatening to engulf you. His mere presence dispelled the shadows, reminding you that you weren't alone in your struggles. 
Though you struggled to articulate your gratitude, he didn't need to hear the words. His deeds spoke volumes, a silent vow that he would never desert you, no matter how fierce the storm raged around you.
And as days turned into weeks, you found solace in William's companionship, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace and the security of his apartment nearly every day. With Marc increasingly absent, claiming to be preoccupied with his newfound interest in golf with his co-workers – or so he called her – your time with William became more frequent and precious. You even managed to spend more time at the Ford Performance Center and the Scotiabank Arena along with the rest of the players and friends.
In those moments, surrounded by his laughter and the camaraderie of the team, you experienced a peace that had long eluded you. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you could smile without the weight of the world pressing down on you, laugh without fearing retaliation, and simply be yourself without the suffocating presence of your toxic boyfriend looming over you.
It felt liberating. It felt like the right path. And as you snuggled closer to William on his spacious sofa one evening, his reassuring presence soothing your tired soul, you dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for a brighter tomorrow.
-
However, the next night, everything collapsed like a house of cards.
It began like any other disagreement, a petty argument over insignificant matters that somehow escalated into a full-blown confrontation. How it had started was a blur, lost in the fog of anger and frustration that clouded your mind. But as the voices grew louder, so did the intensity of your emotions.
Marc's accusations struck deep, his words piercing your heart like daggers. He blamed you for spending too much time with the Maple Leafs and their partners, alleging that your passion for hockey was abnormal and unhealthy. But you knew the truth. He was simply envious of your brother's success, resentful of the bond you shared with Mitch, and the happiness you derived from supporting him at the arena where you had spent countless years together.
And in that moment, something within you snapped. Years of suppressed frustration and bitterness erupted to the surface, igniting a tempest of emotions that threatened to engulf you both. You couldn't stand by and allow him to diminish the one thing that brought you happiness, the one thing that had been a constant source of comfort and support throughout your life.
With tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart pounding in your chest, you found yourself standing up to him in a way you never thought possible. It was as if you had grown wings, emboldened by his words and fuelled by a newfound sense of defiance. You refused to let him dictate the terms of your life any longer, to control what brought you joy and fulfilment.
In a voice filled with determination, you shouted back at him, each word echoing like a battle cry against the tyranny of his dominance. Though your hands trembled, and your knees threatened to give way, you stood your ground, unwilling to yield in the face of his aggression.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a glimmer of hope kindle within you, a beacon of light in the darkness that had threatened to consume you.
“Why the fuck do you even care, Marc? You're always at work, with your colleagues, or with some other whore you've picked up! You don't even love me; you don't even want to fuck me! Why can't you just leave me alone? I don't want you in my life! You're not some gift from God to the wor-"
And then it happened. Like a bolt of lightning, as the words poured from your lips, fuelled by years of pent-up frustration and resentment, Marc silenced you with a swift, forceful slap across your cheek.
The sting was sharp, cutting through your skin like a hot iron. Your hand instinctively rose to cradle the tender flesh, the red mark a painful testament to the violence just inflicted upon you. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your eyes swollen and puffy as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
The room descended into silence, as the only sound was the distant hum of the city beyond. You stood frozen, unable to move as shock and fear gripped you in their icy hold. Your mind screamed at you to flee, to escape the danger lurking in his gaze, but your body remained rooted to the spot.
Then, you noticed it—the spark of something sinister igniting in his eyes, a predatory glint that sent a chill down your spine. And suddenly instinct took over, adrenaline flooding your veins as your heart raced in your chest. Without hesitation, you turned and ran.
The fight-or-flight response kicked in, and in that moment, flight was your only recourse. Your feet pounded against the pavement, carrying you forward with a speed you didn't know you possessed. You had to get away, to break free from the toxic and perilous situation that had ensnared you for too long.
And as you vanished into the night, seeking refuge from the tempest raging both inside and out, you knew there was only one place you could go: to William's.
You knew you must have looked a sight: eyes swollen and puffy, tears still tracing down one cheek, the other flushed red from Marc's blow. Rain had soaked your hair, leaving it a tangled mess against your face, while your sweater clung damply to your body. Even your homey sandals couldn't escape the rain, their socks sodden from your frantic escape.
The train journey dragged on, each stop feeling like an eternity. Anxiety gripped you tighter with every passing moment, your mind overrun with a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. You couldn't help but keep checking over your shoulder, heart pounding with the dread of Marc following you.
And upon arriving at your destination, you wasted no time, hastening towards the familiar safety of William's apartment building. Fortunately, the guard recognised you despite your dishevelled state, offering a sympathetic smile as he opened the door, though you were too consumed by your turmoil to acknowledge his kindness.
Breathless and trembling, you rode the lift to the upper floor, each second feeling like an eternity as your heart continued to race in your chest. The journey blurred by, your mind struggling to process the night's events and the enormity of what had just occurred.
And finally, you stood before William's door, your hand hesitating for a moment before instinct propelled you to knock softly against the wood. As you waited for him to answer, a single plea echoed in your mind: please, let him be home.
"Y/n? Shit, what's happened?" William's voice was filled with concern as he swung the door open, taking in your dishevelled appearance. "Fuck, come in."
But you were frozen, your body unable to respond as the realisation dawned that you might finally be safe, yet still unable to shake off the shock.
And William sensed the gravity of the situation, approaching you with cautious steps, mindful not to startle you further. He stood calmly, giving you the space, you needed to ease out of the grip of the adrenaline rush.
Words caught in your throat, the weight of the ordeal bearing down on you heavily. You wanted to explain, to recount the nightmare that had unfolded, but fear and uncertainty barricaded your words. Yet, as you stood there, trembling and teetering on the edge of collapse, William's reassuring presence began to seep into your core, offering the comfort you so desperately needed.
"It's... Marc," you managed to choke out, tears once again streaming down your cheeks. "He— he hurt me..."
The words hung in the air, the truth settling heavily between you like a dark cloud. In that moment, William's expression transformed, a mix of anger and concern contorting his features.
"What?" he exclaimed sharply, his eyes flashing with fury. "He hit you?"
"Yes... I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't know... where else to go..." you whispered.
William felt a fire ignite within him at the revelation, a fierce protectiveness washing over him as he fought the urge to seek retribution against the man who had dared to lay a hand on you. But he knew that now wasn't the time for vengeance. Now was the time to comfort you, to ensure your safety and well-being above all else.
So, with gentle motions, he wrapped an arm around you and slowly guided you into his condo, his presence a comforting shield against the turmoil. Seating you on the sofa, he enveloped you in his embrace, his touch offering solace amidst the chaos.
Though familiar with such scenarios, tonight felt weightier than usual. Your boyfriend's actions had crossed a line, and it was time for decisive action. William simply couldn't bear seeing you in such distress any longer. You, whom he loved so deeply, deserved nothing but happiness. And he was determined to see that you received it.
And with every passing second, his soft whispered reassurances began to ease the tension, as he draped a blanket over your shoulders, and you felt a warmth spreading through you.
However, as you sat there, enveloped in the comforting silence, guilt gnawed at your insides like a relentless beast.
"I'm so sorry, Willy... I-I didn't mean to ruin your evening," you spoke softly, regret tingeing your voice.
"Hey, you're not ruining anything," William replied, his tone tender and reassuring, yet you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.
"Yes, I am... I'm always just intruding on your life with all my problems," you sighed heavily, the weight of your burdens pressing down on you. "You should just leave me alone, Willy... I'm just 50 shades of fucked up..."
"No, I'm not leaving you like this," William interjected firmly, his voice brooking no argument.
"Please, I don't want to be a burden to you anymore..." you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation, a bit louder this time.
"Then what do you want?" William asked, his gaze unwavering as he searched your face for answers.
"I-I don't know..." you admitted, feeling lost and uncertain amidst your turmoil.
"Come on, y/n, just tell me what you want," William urged, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.
And then, in a moment of raw vulnerability, the words spilled from your lips without hesitation.
"I want you," you confessed, your voice stronger than a whisper, finally meeting his gaze.
"You have me... You've always had," William replied softly, meeting your eyes with unwavering sincerity.
"No, I want to be with you, Willy..."
In that moment, as your eyes locked, a wave of comfort washed over you, a sense of peace settling over your troubled soul like a gentle caress.
You had finally vocalised what you'd been longing to say for so long, the ties with your boyfriend holding you back now severed. But now, you were free. And your first act of freedom was to express to William how deeply you desired him.
"I'm sorry... I just... I know I've been nothing but a burden to you all these years," you confessed, attempting a half-smile. "But... I've always... I've always been in love with you... I guess I've just never... been able to say it... out loud."
It was a tremendous relief, and you felt the weight lift from your shoulders. And as much as joy stirred within you, William too released a sigh he'd been holding onto for years.
"I'm in love with you too, y/n... I always have been," he revealed, flashing you a tender smile, before he gently leaned his forehead against yours, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. "I love you so much, and all I want is for you to be happy."
Drawing back slightly, you locked eyes with his deep ocean blue gaze. "You make me happy, Willy... You always have," you exhaled softly. And with the floodgates open, you couldn't contain the emotions any longer. "You've always been there for me... and I can't put into words how much it's meant... you're my soulmate..."
William offered you a wider smile, his lips drawing closer to yours. "And you're mine..."
It was the moment you'd yearned for, and now, after an evening filled with thunder and heartache, the universe had healed the wounds and guided you to where you truly belonged: with William Nylander. And as your lips met in a tender kiss, sharing the warmth of your breath, you knew without a doubt that you had finally come home.
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zegrasdrysdale · 2 days
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jamie and reader looking through baby names :((
[ what’s in a name ] j. drysdale
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paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader
summary : Jamie and his girlfriend try to find the perfect baby name
warning(s) : none really
author’s note : this is very dialogue heavy btw. it’s very conversation based. also kinda short oops
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Baby Drysdale is due in a month and they still don’t have a name. The nursery in their new house is Voorhees got done before they found a baby name.
There was a time where she knew what she wanted her baby's name to be. She was also ten. Now she’s an adult and is in charge of naming an actual human being.
Today is the day though. She and Jamie are going to sit down and pick out their baby’s name. Baby Drysdale will have a name before coming into the world if it’s the last thing they do.
Jamie sits at the kitchen island with a notebook while she runs around the kitchen to cook dinner. She’s been craving a baked dish so she’s making lasagna for them.
“Do we want a neutral gender name?” Jamie questions. “Since we don’t know if the baby’s a boy or a girl. We can come up with names for both a boy and a girl if you want too.”
She gently stirs the large pasta noodles as she thinks. “I think gender neutral is good,” she replies. “I do have one request though.”
“What?”
“If we have a girl, her middle name is Marie for my mom.”
She looks up to look at her boyfriend and Jamie smiles at her. “Absolutely,” he says. “I won’t say no to that.”
Her mom died about three months before they found out they were expecting Baby Drysdale. It’s like she sent them the little angel growing in her daughter’s belly. That is why Baby Drysdale’s middle name will be Marie if they are a girl.
Jamie scribbles down the idea. “Okay, we have a middle name,” he comments. “If we have a girl. What about if we have a boy?”
She wracks her brain as she tries to think about a middle name if Baby Drysdale is a boy. “What about your brother or dad?” she asks. “Maybe a grandfather that meant a lot to you? Any of their names?”
Her boyfriend sighs behind her. “I mean, my dad’s name is Gary and my brother’s name is Charlie,” he replies. “I wasn’t super close to my grandfathers so I wouldn’t want to name our baby after one of them.”
“I like Charlie as a middle name,” she comments. “Would he mind if we stole his name?”
Jamie laughs. “I don’t think he’ll mind,” he tells her. “He would probably love it.”
“Then Charlie as a middle name if Baby Drysdale is a boy,” she says.
She pours the cooked pasta into a strainer in the sink so she can start layering the dish. “Now we need a first name,” Jamie says. “Especially a name that goes with both middle names we picked out.”
There’s movement behind her and she glances back. He is grabbing is laptop and bringing it back to the island. “What are you doing?” she questions.
“I am going to find a list of names and we are going to go through it until we find one we both like,” he says as he types something. “And the baby’s name isn’t going to be something basic and common either. We’re going all in.”
She laughs and layers the dish. “Alright,” she sighs. “Hit me with some names.”
“We got Avery first on the list,” Jamie tells her.
Avery Marie or Avery Charlie. “I’d like it better as a girl’s name,” she admits. “Avery Marie sounds very pretty.”
Jamie scribbles that done. “I agree,” he replies. “Next we have Taylor.”
She thinks about it as she licks some sauce off her finger. “I like it,” she says. “For both.”
More scribbling as she throws a layer of foil on top of the dish. “Next we have Wyatt,” Jamie says. “I will say that I am not a fan of this name. It doesn’t go well with either middle name.”
“Agreed. Next.”
There’s a moment of silence between them as she puts the dish in the oven and timer. She walks over to Jamie and wraps her arms around him from behind so she can see over his shoulder. “How about Silas if Baby D is a boy?” he asks. “It just popped up at a separate list at the end.”
Silas Charlie. “I love it,” she replies. She watches Jamie write it down.
“So I think we have our names,” Jamie comments. “Avery if Baby D is a girl and Silas if Baby D is a boy.” He looks up at her.
Without realizing it, tears well in her eyes. “We have our names,” she echoes. The tears spill onto her cheeks.
Jamie turns in the high stool and faces her. “Baby, you don’t have to cry,” he coos as he uses his thumbs to dry her tears. “This is supposed to be a happy moment.”
“I know,” she laughs. “I can’t help it. I’m a very emotional person right now.”
He pulls her into a hug and rests a hand on her belly to give the baby a hug. “I love you both,” Jamie says. “Emotions and all.”
She laughs and rests her cheek on her boyfriend’s head as he gently rubs her belly.
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hockeyboysimagines · 3 days
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hi!! Can you do romance prompt for Arber #9 “However many years we have left, I want to spend them all with you.”
you write him so sweet🥹thanks in advance I can’t wait to read it!
Thanks for this anon! Enjoy🤍
“Hey babe? What do you want for your birthday this year?” Arber asked from behind the laptop. You would be turning 20 next month, thankfully on a weekend free of games and practices. It gave him a free and open 4 days to cram everything celebratory he could think of for his favorite girl. You deserved it and now that he knew how unserious you thought of your birthday, he wasn’t going to let you get away easy. He’s gasped and nearly had a hissy when he found out you didn’t celebrate and hadn’t for a long time, scoffing at the suggestion that you continue with that theme. “Uh. No.” He said holding up a hand to silence you “We’re celebrating your birthday.”
“Nothing.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head “Come on. Don’t be like that. I can’t take you out at midnight, so you have to let me get you something or throw a party.”
You leaned around the doorframe from where you were folding laundry to smile mischievously “Even if I was old enough, you would take me out where? You barely make it past 8pm every night.”
You weren’t wrong.
It wasn’t uncommon for Arber to suggest watching a movie only for him to asleep within the first ten minutes of it. He still glared at you either way. You were always giving him shit for the gap between your ages, though it wasn’t huge. Arber however felt most days like he was 80 years old, and being held together with screws and tape. So while he was only 4 years older, the constant beating his body took made the gap seem wider.
“What are you saying?” He turned completely around.
“I’m saying there’s no way you’d be able to party till all hours. Midnight is way past your bedtime.”
His mouth fell open “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me. Old man.”
You immediately regretted it because the ‘Old Man’ in question was out of his chair and across the room before you even had time to scream. In one swoop he had you airborne and then on the bed with a squeal with an “OOF.” As you landed and bounced.
“Take it back.” He said fingers digging in to your sides.
You screeched and started to kick“Never.”
An all out wrestling war had started and you were losing until you heard a loud crack.
He shot straight up eyes squeezing shut “Oh Jesus!” He yelled, chuckling as he held his lower back.
“Careful grandpa.” You gasped out as you started laughing “You don’t wanna slip a disk.”
“You-“ but you had already slid out from under him and made to run before he caught you again and pulled you down on top of him.
“Okay okay you win. You win. Oh god, I think I threw my back out.”
You started laughing and took a deep breath attempting to untangle yourself and sit upright to straddle him “So when you kick it are you gonna leave me all your stuff?”
He made a face and closed his eyes “You say the sweetest things to me.”
You gave a little giggle and reached a hand forward to rub his shoulders. He closed his eyes and groaned head falling to the side “Oh my gosh that feels fucking phenomenal.”
“Your pretty beat up here.” You said tracing a finger over the scar from his shoulder operation and the scattered bruises from the game yesterday “How many good years do you think you have left?” He smiled and let out a low chuckle, eyes still closed and rested a hand on either side of your hips.
“However many years I have left, I want to spend them all with you.” A bunch of tiny butterflies started flitting around in your stomach and you smiled very slowly as he peeked at you out of one eye “Pretty smooth eh?”
“For a guy who’s almost halfway to 50 it wasn’t bad.”
He gave your hips a squeeze “Just promise me one thing. If there’s ever a time when I can’t get it up put me out of my misery.”
You gave him a smack and then a kiss.
“Deal.”
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bluewxrld07 · 2 months
Text
Kiss Cam (Luke Hughes)
Luke Hughes x female!reader
Warning(s): slight makeup sesh, angst, major fluff, touching without consent, alludes to smut
Summary:In which Luke lets his anger get the best of him.
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“Mom I love you, but I have to finish getting ready for the game. We can talk more about it tomorrow.” Y/n sighs, applying mascara to her lashes. 
Her phone was on the bathroom counter with mom on speaker phone, mom currently blabbing about something that happened at work that she needed to rant over. “Oh, that’s right there’s a game tonight! Tell Luke and Jack goodluck for me, and I’ll let you go then. Love you!” Her mom’s sweet voice rings in.
Y/n responds back before ending the call, her music coming back on while she used her setting spray to set the rest of her face. 
Luke walks into the bathroom behind her a few moments later, setting his sweatshirt on the counter next to her puffer vest for her to wear. He stops and looks her up and down with a slight smirk on his lips. 
She wasn’t fully finished getting dressed, only wearing her flare leather pants and a bralette to prevent getting makeup on his clothes. Not that he would’ve minded that anyway, but he wasn’t going to complain about her current outfit. 
“What?” She chuckles putting her makeup away when catching his stare in the mirror. His eyes find hers as he walks up behind her with a hum, placing his hands around the front of her waist slowly trailing back and down to grab her ass. 
She squeaks at his hands, letting a laugh leave her mouth while his own kisses her collarbone a few times. “I like these pants.”
“Oh you do, do you?” an amused grin on her face. He hums with a nod. “Very much yes. You need to buy more.” 
Her eyes roll at his comment before she turns around in his grasp, his hands still going down to her ass when she faces him. Luke looks down at her, taking in the beauty of his girlfriend. She looks down at his lip before lifting herself up a little to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. 
Luke thought otherwise, humming out a no on her lips to prevent her from breaking away. She giggles at his comment, letting her hands trail up his chest and to the back of his neck and into his curls. 
Their lips moving in sync, his tongue finding hers as his hands roam her body. His touches and kisses making her whimper and moan into his mouth. 
His hands began to trail from her ass, up to her hips, then to her waist, until they were gripping her breasts. Luke letting his thumb graze over her nipples through the thin fabric. 
She breathes out a moan, her head falling back as he plays with them and his lips moving down to her jaw. “Lu,” she pants.
“Hm?”
“We are gonna be late.” She lets out another whimper when he bites down on her sweet spot just in the crevice of the crook of her neck. Y/n musters up the strength to grab his head from her neck, making him look up at her. 
His lips now swollen, eyes looking a little glazed over as he gives her a lovesick grin. She places one last soft kiss on his mouth before turning back around to grab his sweatshirt off the counter, putting it over her head.
"Why don't you just wear my jersey again?" he asks as he steps away to watch her in the mirror.
"Because I need to switch it up every so often," she says in a 'duh' tone. "Either way people will know I'm yours if that's your problem with it." she chuckles, watching him roll his eyes.
"Okay yes, but still. You can see my name on it in bigger letters than you can on my sweatshirt."
"The sweatshirt I'm wearing is a player only sweatshirt. Therefore nobody else but players own it, so I think that's pretty self-explanatory." she assures him as she sees his pout begin to form.
Once she puts the vest over her shoulders, she turns around to wrap her arms around his neck. He grabs her waist immediately, looking down at her with a knowing look. "You may be beautiful, but you're sometimes not the brightest." he jokes, earning a slap to the chest as she walks away after his comment. She slips on her heeled boots in the entryway while he slides on his dress shoes.
"Forensic Scientist means dumb to you? I don't think so baby." she shoots back, the boy just shaking his head with a playful scoff.
"Whatever you say, honey. Let's go," he sighs before tapping her bum as she opens the front door.
Once they arrived to the arena, Y/n says her 'hello's to the other players, and Jack of course, then gives Luke his good luck kiss before making her way to the lower bowl to find her seat.
She sets her food and drink down when she finds it, seeing she's in the second row from the glass and gets comfy as she waited for the game to start. Y/n watched as more and more fans began to pile in, some starting to take up spots around the ice to watch warmups.
The warmups probably had to be her favorite part. Getting to see the boys rev up for the game as well as interacting with fans, the younger kids especially. She sometimes would find herself overhearing conversations of parents with their little ones talking about how they will try hard to get puck from a player for them.
So some days she took matters into her own hands, signaled Luke, Jack or one of the other players she knew well to bring her a couple pucks to hand out to the little kiddos. The smiles and reactions on their faces always made her smile too, which is why she loved stepping in to help sometimes.
Before she knew it, the boys were out on the ice doing their routine, kids and other fans buzzing with excitement as they watched the players skate around the ice.
She smiles widely when she sees Luke spot her, the boy giving her a little wink as he stood at the blue line with Dawson. Her little moment with Luke was soon cut short when someone took their seat next to her and settled in, his stare never leaving her side profile.
Y/n slowly turned to look at the Devils fan, the boy looking around the same age as her. He had darker hair that poked out of his backwards hat, bright hazel eyes, chiseled jaw with a little stubble. He supported a Devils Jersey with an 86 on the back of it. He nods at her before speaking.
"Hey," he starts off. She smiles warmly. "Hello." she says before turning back to watching warmups.
Luke was busy doing his routine to notice the boy sitting next to his girlfriend, y/n adjusting herself due to feeling uncomfortable by his stare.
"I'm Micah." he introduces, y/n turning her head back to him with a smaller smile this time. "Nice to meet you Micah." she says in a soft voice, hoping that it sounded both nice and uninterested.
Micah leans towards her a little, making her smile falter a bit and look back at the boys on the ice for a minute. "And you are..?" he trails off, making her insides churn at his desperation.
"Um, I'm y/n," she says in a shorter tone. He nods with a toothy smile.
"Beautiful name for an absolutely gorgeous girl." he says, making her internally roll her eyes. She just nods at him and offers another warm smile. "Thank you."
She watches as he looks her up and down slowly, slowly biting his lip as his eyes find hers. "So what's a girl like you doing sitting here all by herself?" he asks.
"Oh, I'm not alone I'm-"
"It's okay, you don't have to lie and say your friends are coming. I'll take care of you," he winks at her, and places a hand on her thigh with a squeeze. He was making her stomach knot. "Please take your hand off my leg," she says firmly. She feels herself relax when his hand leaves her thigh, her chest feeling tight as he sat closer to her.
Instead of pushing the conversation she purses her lips and looks back at the boys on the ice, hoping to find her boyfriend and her muscles relax when she sees he's already staring at her.
Now many fans that paid attention to the Hughes brothers knew she and Luke were dating. It wasn't like they made it obvious, but they also weren't hiding it either.
His eyes going back between her and the guy next to her with a darker stare than she's used to. He can tell she's uncomfortable when his eyes find hers a second later, and skates closer towards where she's sitting.
Y/n watches as he skates past and gives her a small nod as if asking if she was okay, and nods back at him with a small smile on her lips.
Luke nods back one more time at her before turning back to finish his drills, his head turning back to stare at the guy sitting next to her one last time.
Y/n was happy the guy known as Micah let her be after that, hoping that he noticed she was uninterested and very much taken.
The lights dimmed as the boys left the ice, y/n sitting back in her chair and going onto her phone. Her phone soon buzzed as she began scrolling through Twitter, seeing it was a text from Luke.
from Lu <3
Do you want me to bring you one of my jerseys?
to Lu <3
I'll be okay. I can stand my ground, I promise
from Lu <3
Baby I really think you should take one of my jerseys
to Lu <3
Lu I will look like every other fan who has one here still. It wouldn't matter if I was wearing it or not.
read 6:36pm
Y/n rolled her eyes at his actions and no response, knowing he was frustrated by the situation at hand. She wouldn't be able to convince him any other way, him being the stubborn boy he was.
It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he just liked having people know she was his and his only. She would never stop that either, but she just wanted him to understand she can handle situations on her own most times.
Before she knew it, the game had started and that's also when Micah's voice started. He kept trying to talk to her more, explaining the game to her as if she had no idea what was going on. She wanted to move so badly, but knew that that wasn't going to happen.
Y/n just tried her best to act as uninterested as possible to his conversation, the boy obviously not getting the point as time went on.
It also appeared that Luke was getting more and more irritated by Micah's advances.
Y/n often caught him skating by their area and looking directly at the pair sitting next to one another, his expression each time darker and more pissed off than the last.
The one that caught her attention was when Luke looked directly at her, shook his head, rolled his eyes and made a swatting motion at her. It deeply annoyed her that he was getting mad at her when she was making it very clear she wanted nothing to do with the man next to her.
"That call right there is known as icing," Micah begins, leaning towards her and pushing a piece of her hair back. Y/n biting her lip and running a hand through her hair as he keeps his hand on her cheek. "It happens when-"
"Okay look. Micah, is it? Can you please stop explaining the game to me as if I don't get what's going on? I used to play myself, and have a boyfriend who plays it as well. So please just -- stop talking, and stop touching me." Y/n snaps, her facial expressions towards the boy looking like she was ready to bang her head against the wall.
Micah looked stunned for a few seconds, before he smirks and rolls his eyes with a scoff. "If you had a boyfriend, where is he at then?"
Of course that was the only thing he paid attention to. She scoffs at him and looks back to the game.
There was an intermission in between whistles, the ice crew coming to shovel off the ice. Y/n looks up and watches as a kiss cam comes on, happy couples one after the other doing funny or cute kisses.
She looks down at her phone while it goes, not really wanting to be at the game anymore with her boyfriend annoyed at her, and her being annoyed with the guy next to her.
That was until Micah was elbowing her a moment later, the girl looking at him with a scowl evident on her face and he smirks smugly while pointing to the screen. She looks up, and immediately wants to sink into a hole.
Micah and her were on the kiss cam screen.
Micah looks back at her and shrugs. "it's for the views," he says, and she shook her head.
Y/n looks up at the Jumbotron, doing a 'cut' signal with her hand while saying that Micah is not her boyfriend. She began to hold up her sweatshirt, pointing to the number 43 on the arm saying 'boyfriend'.
But before she could finish saying 'boyfriend' Micah tries grabbing her face in a bruising and harsh grasp to pull her in for a kiss. Y/n immediately pushes him away and smacks him hard across the face.
Before she can cuss him out, she hears a loud bang against the glass followed by yells and many fans gasping in shock. Y/n turns to the ice and sees Luke yelling at Micah with Jack and Nico holding him back as if Luke was about ready to break the glass to get to her.
"Get your fucking hands off my girl!" he screams at him. "You grab her like that again and I'll fuck you up, you got that! Get the fuck off of her!! Don't you dare touch her!" Luke continues to yell and cuss as the boys pull him back to the bench.
Luke looks at Y/n and points at her after. "That's why I fucking told you to wear my jersey dammit!" he yells to her, making her stomach drop to her ass out of embarrassment.
Her mouth drops at his reaction, seeing him yell to her once again. "Never fucking listens to me!"
Micah sitting there both in awe and shock by both getting cussed at by Luke Hughes and being smacked by the girl next to him.
Y/n is pushing her way past Micah who is still sitting there dumbfounded, some fans making comments to him saying how shitty it was for him to do what he did.
Y/n kept her head down as she climbed up the stairs, tears in her eyes. One of the security guards she knew very well immediately made her way up to her and pulled her into her arms as they walked.
"Let's get you out of the public eye, hm? Get you down into the tunnel?" she suggest, Y/n nods quietly as she wipes a tear.
When she makes her way to the tunnel she hears the buzzer, signaling the end of the second period. She tells the security guard to grab Jack for her as he walks back to the locker room, the older woman nodding before making her way down the hall.
As she waits for Jack, she manages to take in what just happened.
Micah tried forcing himself on her. Luke cussed him out and almost broke the glass to go after him. Luke yelled at her.
Luke embarrassed her.
Y/n didn't even realize she had tears falling until she saw them fall onto her boots.
"Y/n?" she hears, her head shooting up to see Jack making his way to her with concern on his face. He had his helmet off, stick still in his hand as he approached her.
"Hey," he said as he got to her, pulling her in for a hug first. She hugged him back tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. "You okay?"
She just shook her head as they pulled away. "I've never heard him talk to me like that. Ever. I'm so humiliated." she admits, shaking her head as she wipes her tears.
Jack looks at her with guilt and frustration. "I'm sorry I had no idea he would react like that," he says. "We knew he was bothered by the guy next to you because he wouldn't stop talking about it. But he kept assuring and saying he trusted you to take care of it. Of yourself. He kept saying he knew you could handle it. Next thing we knew he was jumping over the boards and skating towards where you sat. And then you can guess what happened next." he explains, making her nod.
"I just didn't think he would ever talk to me like that." she says in a whisper. "I didn't even know that that guy would grab my face like that." she stutters, letting out a choked sob.
"I should've just listened to Luke and wore his jersey." Y/n says, watching as Jack shook his head. "No don't say what you know would make my brother feel better. He's a piece of shit and a dickbag for saying and reacting how he did. You couldn't have known." Jack assures her, pulling her in for another hug, holding her for longer.
She sniffles and stays silent, Jack pulling away from her as he hears Dawson calling out to him signaling they're going back out in a few.
"I don't want to talk to him for a bit. But I can't go back out there. I don't even think I can show my face out there at all." Y/n explains, Jack nods in understanding.
"I'll make sure he steers clear of you for right now. I'll also be the last one out of the locker room, so I will let one of the trainers know to come grab you to get my keys. You can drive it back to the apartment." he says, making her shake her head and cross her arms.
"Jack are you sure? I can't take your car."
"Y/n/n yes you can. We live in the same complex. Worst case I can always catch a ride with one of the other boys if Luke is still being an ass, so I will be able to get home either way." Jack assures her, the girl contemplating for a minute, then nodding in agreement to his statement.
He kisses her forehead before heading back to the locker rooms, Y/n pulling herself together as she waits silently for one of the trainers. She sees and hears the guys cheering as they head out for the last period, music blaring in the stadium.
She spots one of the trainers walking towards her with a sweet smile, motioning for her to follow behind them to the locker room.
When they get to the entryway, the trainer stops and points to Jack's locker stall. "He said it should be in his suit jacket pocket on the left side." the trainer tells her, y/n nodding as she feels his keys.
As she was about to walk out of the locker room the trainer stops her once more. "Luke also told me to tell you that you can take his key. Since he knows you don't normally bring yours when you drive with him to games." they explain, Y/n feeling her heart clench at his name.
She slowly nods and walks over to her boyfriend's stall and grabbing his apartment key before following the trainer out and towards the garage.
She smiles softly at the trainer before thanking them, then unlocks Jack's car and gets inside.
On the drive home the car is silent, nothing being heard but the rain on the windshield. The radio off due to her not wanting to hear a single thing as she drove home.
The embarrassment she felt from the night was starting to creep up on her, making her just want to crawl up into a ball and live there for the rest of her life.
The facial expression she saw on his face was something she only ever saw when it came to him getting pissed off at another player in the ice, or when he was arguing with Jack. Never did she see it directed towards her. It made her insides burn, her chest feeling tight.
Most of all Y/n felt violated. She had never been grabbed or touched like that, and it scared her that a man would've been desperate enough in a situation to make a move like that guy did.
She let out a sigh as she parked Jack's car in his parking spot in the parking garage, locking it as she made her way up to her and Luke's shared apartment. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, keeping her head low as she made her way through the hallways.
When she saw her familiar doormat outside her apartment, Y/n felt her exhaustion hit. As she unlocked the door, she could hear the patters of the raindrops hitting the windows. The apartment only being illuminated by her golden sunset light in the living room, window cracked open to hear the thunder outside.
She shut the door, and took off her shoes. The tired girl's feet padded down the hall to their shared bedroom, going and taking a seat on their bed as she took a deep breath.
Her phone was buzzing, causing her to turn it over and see what it was.
Luke Hughes loses it over guy in the crowd!
Breaking: New Jersey Devils player, Luke Hughes, almost breaks glass to fight man in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend!
Devils player Luke Hughes screams at fan in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend. Soon starts screaming at girlfriend shortly after, causing absolute mayhem in the stands!
After seeing each title and tweet get worse and worse, she immediately puts her phone on Do Not Disturb and puts it face down on the nightstand.
Y/n began taking off her outfit, grabbing pjs and a towel before heading into the bathroom.
Y/n turned on the shower, loving how the warmth felt on her skin and closed her eyes as she stepped in.
Usually she had always taken a post game shower with Luke when they'd gotten home, but she couldn't even fathom to want to be in the same room as him after his outburst.
Sure she understood the one towards Micah, but she still thought she didn't deserve to get the backend of it too.
Y/n also knew that he probably felt like shit after how he acted, and was probably getting an absolute earful from the entire team, the coaches included.
She let the water soak up her scalp, taking a few deep breaths as she stood there. She didn't even know where her head was at. She was still so shocked of the events tonight, but also craved to have Luke holding her. Telling her she would be okay, and that he never meant any of it.
Y/n jumps and gasps when she feel hands slither around her waist, but relaxing when a familiar head of curls is seen in her side view as he hid his face in her neck for a few moments.
The girl fought with herself, wondering if she should just let it happen or push him away, not knowing which would be the better option.
That was until he propped his chin on her shoulder, sniffling a couple times. She stood there tense, staying quiet for a few moments.
"I don't even know where to start," he says, his voice rough. He squeezes her waist, her hands still staying crossed at her chest.
"Well I do know where to start. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, Y/n. I have no excuses for the way I spoke to you. You were trying to get him off you, and were clearly uninterested in general. Guy couldn't take a fucking hint," he chuckles bitterly. "In the end, I should not have yelled or screamed at you. You didn't deserve any of that. I can't imagine how embarrassed you felt after that. That's all completely my fault, I couldn't control myself after seeing how uncomfy he kept making you." he sniffles and pauses to press a kiss on her temple.
"I really can't believe I lost it on you. I have no regrets for losing it on that guy, but losing my shit on you I have every regret in the world. I would absolutely go back in time and prevent myself from doing that to you. Without a second thought." he finishes. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I am a dick, and I truly don't expect you to forgive me easily. I embarrassed you, and made it so hard for you to walk back into that arena without wanting to curl up in a ball. If you don't come to some my games for a bit, I get it. I don't blame you."
It's quiet for a few moments after that, Y/n taking that as Luke's speech being finished. She sighs and lets her body relax fully into his own, letting her hands trail down to where his hands are on her waist and wrap hers around his wrists softly.
She caresses the top of his hands with her thumbs. "You're a fucking asshole you know that?" she whispers, shaking her head as she looks down at their hands.
He nods against her shoulder. "More than an asshole honestly." he chuckles, making her muster up the smallest grin.
"You embarrassed me. You humiliated me in front of the entire arena, Luke," she starts. "I wouldn't have been as mad if it were just towards that guy. Yeah I still would've been annoyed, but it was when you started going after me. As if I had been letting it happen." she explains, Luke letting her speak.
"I tried everything in my power to make it known I was uninterested. I tried everything to make it known I didn't want him talking to me. I tried Lu," she says, her voice sounding defeated the last few words.
Luke just nods, saying he knows repeatedly. "Especially when he kept putting his hands on me, I kept telling him to stop and I kept saying no." Y/n says, her voice weak as her lips began to quiver. Luke pulls her in tighter, his heart aching and his anger rising at the guy. He had no right to touch her, and especially when she kept telling him to not touch her.
Luke couldn't imagine what was going through her head during then. It made him feel even worse after hearing how defeated she. sounded.
"Then when he grabbed my face, I felt so violated. Like I couldn't even win even when I kept saying no," she sniffled. "Then when you yelled at me like that, it made me feel like you didn't even care that I was trying my hardest to not let him touch me. When it was so clear I didn't want him to."
Luke raised his head from her shoulder, placing his hands on her hips to turn her so she was facing him. "Look at me." he says softly to her, seeing as she shook her head and kept it staring down at her hands.
He watched as she began to nervously pick ta her fingertips, something she did from anxiety, which made his hands leave her sides and lace his fingers between him own to prevent her from doing so.
"Y/n, baby, look at me." he says, his voice softer than the first time. Y/n mustered the strength to look into his eyes for the first time that evening, seeing his were incredibly bloodshot and swollen.
"Oh Lu," she sighs as she sees his face. He shook his head. "Don't worry about me." he says. "I want you to know that no matter what, I will always care for you. Even when it's so much it seems annoying, I will still be there by your side protecting and caring about you. I care more about you than I do myself." he assures her, making her lips quiver.
"You need to care about yourself too, Luke. Don't beat yourself up when you can't help me with a situation. You have to trust that I can handle it most times on my own." she explains, Luke nodding in agreement with her.
"I get that you were mad and that you were wanting to do anything you could to get to me in that moment, but taking it out on me when you know I'm trying is not the way to go."
Luke puts his head down, nodding once more. "I know. And I'm never going to stop apologizing to you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take it all back. I'm so sorry, Y/n/n."
She puts her hands on his cheeks. "I know. But you can't take it back, no matter how much to wish you could. Just learn from it, and move forward. Yeah this was a major bump we will work on fixing, but that is the thing. It's not just going to be you, it's gonna be us." she assures him, watching his eyes find hers again.
"You won't be going through this alone. Yeah I'm hurt. Yeah I'm embarrassed. But that's not gonna stop me from loving you and helping you. We will work on it together, okay?" Y/n caresses his cheeks, watching as he nods.
"I love you. So much. So so much, Y/n. I'm so sorry."
Y/n gives him a smile and nods, leaning her forehead against his own. "I love you too, baby. I know."
He presses his lips on her own cautiously, Y/n feeling his actions. In which she lets her hands find the back of his head and pull him closer to her to make their kiss more passionate.
He hums as their lips move in sync, letting her lead it as he wraps his arms around her figure.
Luke breaks the kiss after a few moments. "Let me start making it up to you right now, yeah?" he pants, and she nods.
"I'm all yours."
That's all Luke needs to hear before he begins his apology to her. Showing her how sorry he is in many different ways.
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chewingcyanide · 2 months
Text
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣. 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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₊⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.
₊⊹ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —all the angst, jealousy, thoughts of inferiority, cursing, big sadness from reader over here, not proofread i got better things to do
₊⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — jack hughes x fem!reader
₊⊹ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — my valentine’s day jhughes special (albeit a day late ☹️), as promised! sorry it took me so long. couldn’t figure out how to end it. this is unapologetically self-indulgent. also not a wip, but i HAD to do it to em. i’m sorry if your name is brooke or bianca. i love you. promise. maybe we’ll make a part two, if yall like it enough!
₊⊹ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — @dancerbailey3, @bellstwd, @kashee-h, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @brucewaynegfreal, @love4dlr, @jackhughesily, @leavethemonsteralive, @loveforaugust, @43hughes, @nathandoe, @choppedlamphandscowboy, @bunting58, @angelayse, @ru-kru, @sleepretreat, @nonsensical-nonsence, @maih23 (if your name is white, i couldn’t tag you!)
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Everyone knows the saying you never know what you have until you lose it. Truth was, you knew exactly what you had—you’d just never imagined you’d lose it.
You never imagined you’d lose him.
A shared childhood and mothers’ who found friendship with each other had brought you and Jack Hughes together, kept you glued even as skin stretched and futures diverged—where he’d gone on to be a star hockey player, you’d quietly came into adulthood, trekking through the difficulties of college.
In your younger years, Jack had always been there. Life of the party, a mirrorball everyone gravitated to for its decadent shine—you, contrastingly, felt like a sore thumb at parties, attending them only to see the smile on Jack’s face. Differing personalities and life routes aside, Jack was your person. The first person you called whenever you were sad, or happy, or bored. The one who knew all of your test scores first, who took hours long flights just to visit you during breaks in the season.
Distance nor time had left a lasting mark on your friendship, kept together by constant phone calls and texts. Whilst you remained imbedded in the hustle of Toronto, Jack was trapped in New Jersey—a gap that you closed every summer, when mutual desire to see one another (as well as his brothers) brought you and him to Michigan for a few months.
From childhood, to high school, to now—it had always been you two. Jokes passed in the years, swirling around with assumptions of the two of you ending up together, finally realizing it after years of proclaimed friendship. For Jack, it’d never been romantic. Loving and caring, a relationship he’d never trade for the world, but the intimacy ended there. Memories of him outwardly flirting with girls in front of you at bars or parties flashed in your mind any time you figured maybe; he’d never given any indicator that you were or would ever be more to him than his best friend.
For you? It was an embarrassingly different story.
College had stolen much of your time—left none for a love life. But truthfully, that didn’t much phase you.
Hookups, flings, boyfriends—all of them paled in comparison to Jack. A childhood crush perpetuated by maturation without loss of contact, Jack had just… always been there. Always a best friend, never a lover; the hanging axe of rejection was too dire a outcome for you to ever consider telling him. Killing a friendship you’d grown with would kill you. And maybe he felt the same way, maybe the kisses he reserved for the crown of your head and the guiding hand he kept on the small of your back meant something, but you couldn’t continue existing if they didn’t.
So, a dutiful friend, you kept quiet, spared the connection and suffered in unrequited love.
And it hadn’t really changed until Jack had gotten a girlfriend. In all your years of knowing him, he’d had a few—though they rarely lasted more than a handful of months, and a selfish and bitter part of you liked that. Sometimes they overstepped, viewed themselves above you in the ranking of Jack’s life; he made painfully clear they never would be.
And it felt good, to be that cherished. But then you remembered he didn’t actually love you and it felt a whole lot less impactful.
Not Brooke.
Brooke, a box-dye blonde with a less-than-stellar reaction to your friendship with her boyfriend, was unarguably beautiful—unapproachably so, someone you’d picture whenever thinking of the girl Jack would end up with. You knew it would never be you, but you hated that it was her, hated that it was finally cemented, the coffin wheeled out.
A friendship you’d cherished for years had been weathered down by the abrasive actions of his girlfriend. It left a bitter taste in your mouth; Jack never seemed privy to Brooke’s nonverbal dislike of you, and you never made comment of it. If Jack was happy, what did it matter? If you said anything, all you’d appear to be was a child throwing a tantrum, the attention torn from them. You refused to jeopardize Jack’s happiness, even if it meant shredding your own.
Brooke tolerated you; that was the best word you could think of. There was surely no excess of love, but you didn’t think she flat out despised you, either. Passive aggressive to the point of just being aggressive, snide looks whenever she didn’t think you could see, intentionally separating you from Jack whenever the two of you were talking—it all made you hate being around her, and by extension, him.
So when he’d invited you to dinner with him—and some of his teammates, a monthly ritual at his house—the knee jerk reaction had been to decline, lie, run while you were still free from the piercing glare of Brooke; because you knew she’d be there, clung to his side, as if you had any intention of taking him away.
… Well, you’d did have the intention. Never the will, so then again maybe she was right to hate you. Feelings you’d never act on, words you’d never say—none of it mattered. She had him. Not you. Never you.
You should’ve said no.
Pouting eyes and pleading lips caved you. As soon as you’d agreed, you’d regretted it—knew in your bones it would only serve to wedge the knife in your heart deeper, solidify the loss of a what you thought would be a lifelong partnership. Your platonic soulmate, twin flame pinched out by hateful fingers.
Getting ready for the dinner felt like preparing for a cage fight, where all night you’d have do endure blow after blow—them kissing, them touching, him loving her in a way you wished he’d love you.
Night blanketed the sky by the time you’d arrived to Jack’s home, shadows slipping by the window, shapes of people telling you that you were likely late—the stone in your stomach had slowed you monumentally. The torture was self-inflicted, you knew. There would be no pity when your heart finally gave out.
She did this to herself, they’d say. Hearts can only endure so much before they break.
Voices coalesced into one as you pushed open the door, welcomed by the familiar atmosphere of friendship and loud laughter. You’d completely forgotten to text Jack that you’d gotten here—and for some reason, as you crossed the threshold into the gaping space of his living room, you felt like an outsider. Sudden eyes landed on you like bullets, and all you saw was Jack—his side taken dutifully by Brooke, always beautiful, striking in a way you didn’t think you’d ever been.
Looking at her, it made sense why she was the one Jack chose. Why you hadn’t been. A best friend. Childhood acquaintance. Faded t-shirt he’d strung along for too many years, even as the design weathered away and the fabric weakened. He’d gotten a shiny new one, the novelty still in tact, yet he hadn’t let you go.
Some part of you, deep in the caves of your wounded heart, wished Brooke would ban him from your presence. Maybe then your hurt would lessen. You knew you’d never be able to let go on your own.
Jack’s eyes caught you, stood awkwardly in the mouth of the hallway. He attempted to stand, only for Brooke to tug him down by his t-shirt—the shirt you’d bought him for his birthday last year, impressed with two hearts holding hands. She said something to him, something low and hissed between clenched teeth. Before you could see his reaction, Nico was invading your space, arms winding around you.
“There she is!” he announced, the ground leaving your feet as he lifted you playfully. “We were waiting on you to eat. Sure do like to take your time.”
Residual bitterness faded at Nico’s words—Jack may have been your best friend, but years of being attached to him introduced you to his teammates; they were always kind, if a little overbearing. A big brother that toed the line of overprotective and well-wishing.
Grateful for the attention distractor, you allowed your shoulders to relax and lungs to decompress. The first cut at seeing Jack, still happily in love with Brooke, was already dealt; you just needed to get through the dinner, and not look like a hostage while doing so.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, shoving Nico’s shoulder as he brought you towards where the others were gathered in the living room. “Make fun of me for driving like a grandma all you want, at least I’m safe.”
Not looking at Jack took more self control than you’d care to admit. Blurring in your peripheral, a mess of colors stacked atop one another, you knew if you glanced—saw the claim Brooke was staking for all to see—it would only make you want to leave. So you didn’t.
Luke was next to greet you, offering a pity-imbued smile. Despite never mentioning your affections for his older brother, you knew he knew; saw it in the way he would look at you, the frowns offered. In times when Brooke inadvertently talked you down, it was Luke who told her off, put balm on the wound.
A side hug and a soft smile—you barely were able to muster one yourself. “How have classes been?”
You graced Luke with an exasperated groan. “Terrible, thanks for reminding me. Economics is kicking my ass.”
Luke sat. You remained standing. A loose thread peeking from your sweatshirt seemed far more intriguing than eyes you were trying desperately not to meet.
“Tough luck,” remarked Luke, conversations reviving after the novelty of your arrival wore off. You recognized a couple of faces around you—Dawson, Jesper, Alexander, and John. Faces you’d become acquainted with in your years of being Jack’s friend.
The title felt a bitter reminder of your ceiling, never surpassing Jack’s best friend. Loved and cherished, a desired presence, just not how you wanted. Who were you to complain? It was better to be his friend than nothing at all; to have a little piece of him, proof that at one point, you’d mattered enough to get it.
You just weren’t sure if you did anymore.
Where once Jack’s name was a regular occurrence, flashing on your phone screen—texts, calls, FaceTimes, they all faded once Brooke came into his life. Movie nights on his couch, reruns of old films that you could quote down to the last line, stopped. You knew Jack cared enough to extend invites, but at this point, you figured it was more out of pity and shame than actual want of your company.
Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.
Eventually, everyone made their way into the dining room. Chairs lined a large wooden table, one chosen and haphazardly assembled by you and Jack when he’d first bought this house. Scratches imbedded in the finish sent flashes of dropped hammers and clumsy feet into your mind, memories that felt too far to touch.
Mind far afield, you sat down—somewhere between Luke and Nico, far enough from Jack to be inconspicuous but close enough to feel the sharp burn of his eyes. It was petty, you knew, to have still not greeted him. Not that Brooke would’ve likely even let you. A sadistic part of you wanted him to feel even a modicum of the agony that rattled you whenever you were forced to watch him and Brooke, wanted to wonder and question why you were so cold.
Then again, maybe he didn’t care.
Body detached from your mind, the last thing you expected was to be spoken to—least of all by Brooke. But there her grating voice was, verging on overuse, but you knew that was just how she talked. Chafing and annoying and awful—
“Still no boyfriend?” A venomous smile curled her lips; friendly to the untrained eye. You knew better.
Your fingers twitched. The food in front of you spoiled, appetite evaporated. Of course she asked that—both a jab and a reassurance; if you had a boyfriend, her relationship with Jack would be safe. Not that it wasn’t, regardless.
You wished you could scream at her, leap across the table and force her to hear your words: you’d never have Jack. Want him, yes. Spend years pining over a boy who looked to you like the sister he never had, absolutely. But actually have him, feel his love in every touch and kiss? No. That wasn’t on the cards for you; you’d folded long ago.
“Nope,” you drawled. The pressure of Jack’s stare caved you—you caught his eyes, eyebrows creased, the wrinkle of his forehead that made itself prominent whenever he was annoyed.
What did he possibly have to be annoyed about?
Catching Luke’s gaze only irked you further, alit the urge to push out of your chair and flee Jack’s home. Pity swelled in his eyes, the beginnings of a frown quirking down his lips. You didn’t want pity; didn’t want to feel like the entire world was in on some inside joke you’d never understand. Everyone saw it, your love for Jack. Saw the lovestruck comedy that was your life—girl loves boy, boy isn’t even aware of it, hilarity ensues.
Everyone but Jack. And honestly, that was for the best.
You didn’t think you’d be able to handle the frown when he found out. Jack Hughes, always kind, never malignant, searching for a way to politely turn down his best friend without taking an axe to the connection. Really, there would be no bloodless way to let it die—so you lived in moments between, where nothing felt impactful or important or real.
When Jack was without Brooke, you could almost imagine he was your Jack—the one who turned down every girl so that he’d be free to go to prom with you, the one who got banned from a restaurant for life for pouring a drink over your cheating ex-boyfriend’s head. The Jack who always protected you, always cared, even when all of his friends couldn’t understand it.
That Jack who currently hand his arm around the back of Brooke’s chair, shoulders touching—a casual thing, something you’d done with countless strangers, yet it felt impactful enough to make bile swim in your throat.
“Probably for the best,” Luke interjected after the conversation—if it even was that—between you and Brooke came to an awkward stalemate. “Guys are dicks.”
A tension somehow always existed whenever you were in a room with Brooke. One you never wanted, never fed into. Like a shadow, the morning mist, it hung thick as smog. Choking you, nearly forcing you from the room.
“You’re a guy,” you laughed weakly, offering Luke a pointed look.
“No one at college, then?” Nico piped up. You felt bad for not looking at him, but he was too close to Jack and Brooke—you didn’t want to see them.
Cozy, warm in a way you thought only you’d ever be with Jack. Familiar, united. Their relationship didn’t seem as superficial as his past ones had, woven together under the pretense of good sex and no real connection. Watching Jack love his new, perfect girlfriend made you physically ill; and maybe that was dramatic, maybe it made you a backwards person with failing morals—you couldn’t care anymore.
Years of hiding your love, months of watching his own be poured into a girl that wanted you out of his life—it wore you down to your bones, dangerously close to burning to ash.
“Most of them are… strange, to say the least,” you responded with a wince. And that was true; your major seemed to just attract men whose one quality was making women uncomfortable. “Plus, having a boyfriend would just distract me. Finals are coming up and I’m already worried about how I’m going to do on them.”
Luke scoffed. “Hookups exist.”
A wince followed Luke’s words. Eyes fell to where Jessica was rubbing her hand—Jack apologized, albeit half-heartedly. Confusion overcame you; had he squeezed her hand too tightly?
In the past, you’d had boyfriends. Not that they lasted very long. Somehow, there was always something wrong with them—something only Jack could see; he’d endlessly nitpick, nag, explain why your newest boyfriend wasn’t good enough for you.
They were too old, too uptight, not nice enough. Always something. And without fail, Jack was right—scarcely did they make it past the first date before some measly excuse fell from their lips. But maybe it wasn’t them; maybe it was you. So, with an aching heart refusing to connect with any other but Jack’s, you gave up. Delved headfirst into college work and stayed below the waves, even as they began to drown you.
All you offered in response to Luke was a shrug.
Conversation picked up then, thankfully fell away from you. Limelight sufficiently dimmed, you allowed yourself to watch Jack; a habit you’d never quite shaken, even in the embarrassing moments when he caught your peering gaze.
You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen in love with Jack—just that you had, and now you couldn’t touch the bottom of him. Water filled your lungs, suffocated you, but if drowning meant being near him, you’d happily do it. Dying in his platonic embrace seemed better than dying all alone.
Ruffled brown hair, the sort of charm that every boy-next-door seemed to possess, and clear blue eyes that shone every emotion like a transparent window to his soul—all of it made Jack Jack, the boy you loved, would admire even in moments he didn’t think he deserved reverence.
You’d seen it all: the self-deprecation after his failure of a rookie year, dwindling confidence, tears imbued with hurt and disappointment, frustration of someone who knew they were better. It was you who’d been by his side, proved an anchor to a person you couldn’t live without.
Yet he’d still chosen Brooke.
For most people, that would be the last step off the cliff, boneless body breaking against the canyon. Not you—so full of hope and dreams, undeterred by every sign the universe gave you. You weren’t his only, but at least you were one.
Jack’s lips parted into a smile, one you could tell was real—his kissed Brooke’s temple, pinched her on the side. An intimate moment in a crowded room. You felt almost as if you were trespassing, a stranger watching two people in love. Part of you didn’t even associate that boy as Jack, because you couldn’t understand how he could love someone so averse to you, so… mean. But then again, it wasn’t about you.
It was about him. Accommodations had been made for years—leaving parties early because you were uncomfortable, blowing off his guy friends to comfort you after a bad date, scrapping his wants and his plans because of something to do with you.
He was probably sick of it. Sick of you, dictating what he could and couldn’t do. Who he could and couldn’t date. Because who cared if Brooke hated you; Jack loved her, despite it all. And that was what made dread swirl into a storm in your heart, ribs nearly cracking under the rate it was thundering at.
Abruptly, you stood. Felt the chair nearly topple. Eyes came to you—Jack’s friends. Yours, yes, but Jack’s foremost. You were just intruding, butting into a life that no longer fit you. Time had passed, the wishful minds of children grown into adulthood. He didn’t owe you anything anymore, especially when all you were was a storm cloud over his parade.
Just as soon as you had, Jack stood, concern clear in his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
Your tongue felt like lead. “Nothing—nothing, sorry. I’m—I need to use the restroom.”
You didn’t wait much longer before leaving the room.
Air felt scarce, lungs punctured and deflating quicker than you could patch the holes. Clumsily, you pushed open the door to the bathroom, steadied your shaking hands on the edge of the sink. Looking at yourself, reflection marred by the onset of tears, all you could do was compare—compare to Brooke, to every girl Jack had ever wanted, ever liked, ever loved.
Was it their features, doughy lips that worshipped him in a way you didn’t? Was it their bodies, womanly and free in a way you didn’t like to be? Or was it deeper, were their souls crafted from the same light, in a way you’d always thought your own had been with Jack’s?
Idiot, fool, dreamer—you were all of it. Like a lap dog, bird in its teeth, you always returned, remained dutifully at Jack’s side for the moment he might open the screen door and finally let you in.
Brooke had every right to hate you. Perceptive in a way Jack wasn’t, she saw what everyone else did—the lovesick eyes, foolish faith chaining you to him, an unrealized desire that would never be acted on. Had you been in Brooke’s place, you would’ve hated yourself as well.
Water poured from the faucet, gathered in your cupped palms. Attempting to desecrate any evidence of tears, you gently splashed the water in your face—went to dry it when you heard the sound of the front door creaking open.
“Oh, thank God you’re here, Bee.”
Cold crept up your spine. Eavesdropping was wrong—you knew that, yet still found yourself leaning against the bathroom door to catch Brooke’s words.
“What’s going on?” came the response, likely the voice of Bianca, Brooke’s best friend. You’d met her once at a game (met was a loose word; she’d given you a snide look and taken to ignoring you the entire time).
Brooke’s voice lowered to the point where you were forced to strain to hear her speak. “You know Jack’s little pet?”
A lapse. Your heart seized, taken by some concoction of shame and surprise.
“No.”
“Yes!” responded Brooke. “She’s fucking everywhere. I asked Jack not to invite her tonight, and lo and behold—”
“Wait, I thought you talked to Jack?”
“I did.” Vexation laced every letter. “I told him it made me uncomfortable how close they were, how she was always around, blah blah. He got defensive, but he said he’d talk to her.”
“Clearly not,” Bianca muttered. “Look, I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re childhood friends, yeah? He probably feels like he has to stay her friend, or something. I mean, Jack’s a good guy, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone; if he dropped her, he’d look like a douche. I’m sure she’ll get the hint eventually.”
Footsteps began, voices fading along with them. “I fucking hope. It’s honestly pathetic.”
Blood roared in your ears, drowned out the sound of your beating heart—if it was even beating anymore. Something bitter and hot invaded your airways, lashed like whips against your flesh. It was no secret Brooke disliked you, disliked the closeness of you and Jack, but to hear it, the vicious way it fell from her lips—it made your gut twist and constrict, pushing bile towards your throat.
Pathetic. They thought you were pathetic, hopelessly waiting, like a dead plant praying for flowers that would never come. Lovelorn, seeking affection that only came by way of friendship and never more; they were right, and it became evident with a strike of lightning to your body.
Is that truly how Jack felt? Was he waiting for you to give up, so to spare you the hurt of being let down? Had you become baggage? Chained to him, the memory of childhood the only thing keeping you relevant, when times were less impactful and his life didn’t center around being a professional athlete. The stain of youth, remaining only for its joyful memory; that’s all you were now—a memory.
Just like your love, it seemed everyone saw Jack’s hints but you. Rose-colored lenses blurred everything but what you wished to see; of course you missed them, ignored them so your narrative remained intact.
God, you were an idiot. A fucking idiot.
Head pounding, the squeeze of an oncoming migraine rattling your brain, you opened the bathroom door. Felt like a trapped bird all the way back to the table—you just had to get through dinner, only an hour or two, so as to not raise any suspicion, and then you could fade from Jack’s life.
Not that he’d notice. He hadn’t even spoken to you tonight, though no fault of his own; Brooke kept her claws deep, and it was clear he didn’t want to risk an argument. Not that you could blame him—she was his girlfriend. Her. Not you. He didn’t owe you anything.
Conversations filled your ears, ostracized you—every time you had opened your mouth before, it had felt wrong, the scratch on a vinyl everyone skipped over. You saw him first—noticeably tense, chair a bit further away from Brooke that it had been earlier. Tensed forehead, hands balled on the table; you longed to ask what was wrong, as you were used to doing. But you imagined talking to him, and it somehow felt wrong, a peasant addressing a king.
Then, your eyes fell to your seat.
No longer empty, occupied now by Bianca, who was talking casually with Brooke, as if her actions hadn’t changed your entire perception of the situation. There were no more seats. No more room. The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, hit with the same sting of antiseptic on a wound—there wasn’t any more room for you at the table, just as there was no room for you in Jack’s life.
Maybe this was always meant to happen. Childhood didn’t remain forever, and it seemed, neither was your friendship. You’d always wondered why Jack had chosen you, someone so dissimilar to himself and his friends. Eventually, you made peace with it. His friendship was a balm to everything negative. Now… here you were again, more ostracized than ever.
What were you supposed to do? The long haul wasn’t meant to have an end.
Everyone was looking at you now. Stage fright, you lost your speech, thousands of eyes from a crowd looking at you, spotlight centered on your face, and you couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t—
Blue eyes found you, stood stonily at the entrance of the dining room. Jack’s eyebrows knitted, confused as to why you were still stood. When he saw Bianca, his lip curled. Frustration sparked, bemusement painted over. Once more that protective streak flared, something you were so used to—it had once felt the greatest trophy, proof that the Jack Hughes cared enough to stand up for you. It felt a sore consolation now, a reminder that, as always, you’d be the meek girl from his childhood he was forced to drag along, defend, shield from his new life that he fit into perfectly, that you spilled out from.
“Get up.”
Then, the attention went to him.
Brooke glanced at her boyfriend, annoyance flashing on her face. Their conversation paused. “What?”
Jack nodded towards Bianca. “She took her seat,” he explained in a clipped voice. “Get up.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Jack, it’s not a big—”
“It is,” he interrupted. Tension sparked in the air like a misfired firework. “She needs to sit and Bianca took her place, so—”
“It’s fine!” The words spilled out before you could second guess them. They came out raw and pained and everything you didn’t want to appear as; pity pooled from everyone, that sort of second-hand pity you saw on strangers faces when you’d lose your footing and fall.
It was too much. Pins dug into your skin, all of a sudden too tight. You needed to leave. Now, before your bones crumbled and heart gave out and finally everything burst.
“I—um, I should probably get going, anyway,” you said, nodding as if trying to be convincing. “With finals comin’ up I should get in as much studying as I can.”
Determination was something you’d always admired about Jack; it only irked you now. He stood, shrugged off Brooke’s outstretched hand and came to stand before you, and God—it was a disservice to not admire him, even as annoyance creased his eyes and drew inwards his lips. Beauty, in such a raw form, it startled you. Growing up, he’d always been the center of everyones attention. The hockey prodigy, the first overall draft pick, the franchise player for the Devils.
You? You’d been nothing special. Yet he’d still chosen you. And here he was, apparently doing it again—but why? Why when he had a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life and fun friends did he always come back, when clearly you were no more than a burden?
You tried not to seem spiteful. You did. But it was so hard to hide your wounds and ignore their pain. He may not have seen them, but they were unfortunately still there. And it seemed they always would be.
“You can’t,” he said, searched your gaze—he’d always been able to see straight through you, with such simplicity it frightened you. You tried to shuttered your expression, hide your pain. It wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. “Dinner’s just started—”
“Really, J, it’s fine.” Heat bored into your face where you knew Brooke was staring, daring you to express any deeper connection with Jack past the sheltered friendliness you were currently forcing.
You weren’t going to budge. Jack saw that, and so he sighed and glanced out the window. “I’ll drive you home.”
Oh, God. Nothing was ever easy. Pushing and pushing and pushing until you weren’t sure you even wanted to get up anymore, to even try. Every time you did, right back down you went, encapsulated by everything Jack.
Freedom felt a forgotten thing. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t love Jack, when he wasn’t at the forefront of your mind, main star of the play.
And honestly, you were tired. Tired of wishing for something that would never happen. Tired of being viewed as the shackle around Jack’s wrist. Just tired.
“No need,” you muttered noncommittally, saw the way Jack’s face twisted with concern and confusion and everything you didn’t want to see. “It’s your dinner, J. With my grandma driving, I’ll get home safe.”
The attempt at a joke didn’t land. Smile didn’t even begin to twitch his lips. “It’s dark outside,” he stated, an obvious fact that held no weight for anyone but you and him. “I always drive you when it’s dark.”
That was true enough; your inability to see properly at night meant Jack became your chauffeur, not that he ever complained—even still, it was another thing he did for you, time sacrificed to accommodate you. Prepared to leave his own dinner, his own girlfriend, just to make sure you didn’t have to do something you were uncomfortable with. Conceptually, it was sweet, a sort of gesture that would’ve normally made your heart soar. Now? It made you feel like a burden, an incapable little girl still hiding in the shadow of her protector, afraid of the sting of daylight.
No more.
“I’m going to be fine,” you reassured. Jack didn’t appear convinced—he never was satisfied when it came to you, to your safety, unless he was directly involved. “Stay and have fun.”
“What if—”
“Let her go, babe.”
Brooke’s voice proved the nail in the coffin; a part of you heard the undertone of excitement shot through her words, the possibility of your leave alleviating any annoyance your presence had brought. Without you, Jack’s attention would be fully on her. Without you, he wouldn’t have to concern himself on whether you were having fun and if you were okay.
You. You. You.
You’d considered yourself Jack’s anchor, the grounding of his mind—unfortunately, you’d forgotten an anchor also keeps a thing in place, forcing inactivity.
Let her go.
It rang like a death knell, struck sharp as a poisoned dart, invisible but so unmistakably fatal.
Gathering what remained of your dignity, you grabbed your purse off of your—Bianca’s—chair, caught the commiseration shining in Luke’s eyes like a tarnished trophy. It only stung, reminded you that you needed pity.
Before you could flee the room like a scolded dog, Jack caught your wrist. Heat bloomed, a fever rushing to your head—his simple touch made you sick with want and need and something deeper that would never be realized or fostered. Something you had to let die.
“Text me when you’re home,” he said softly. Fingers gently squeezed your wrist. Where once you’d feel comforted, you just felt trapped. “Please.”
Not trusting your words, all you did was nod.
Honestly, you’d expected some dark cloud to cover you when finally you decided to move on. A procession of funeral goers flocking like crows, unable to understand why you’d abandoned a years-long friendship over something insignificant. Over words spewed from hateful lips.
But it wasn’t what you’d overheard. Deeper, a more sharp knowledge that even if Jack loved you, held you closer than anyone in his circle of friends, he’d never want you in the way you desired. And for a while, that was okay. Because he existed separate of everything—and then came Brooke, and it all crumbled.
You could handle him not loving you. You couldn’t, however, handle him loving someone else so openly.
Street lights blurred behind tears, a mess of streaky lights like a watercolor canvas. Flashes of nights when Jack would drive you home, insisting on taking the wheel so that you didn’t have to toe out of your comfort zone, they haunted you like a inescapable film reel on repeat in your mind. Memories fogged by lost youth, angry words from Jack’s lips as he’d stand up for you—never a party person, denounced for draining the fun. Jack never let those insults slip lip before he was barking at whoever said it.
A responsibility. A burden. The lines had become blurred in recent years.
The latter seemed more fitting.
Through a barrier of tears, you were able to send Jack a text as your car rolled to a stop in the parking lot.
me
at my dorm
j :)
ok good. u ok? u seemed off @ dinner
Fingers hovered over your screen. Make movements to draft a text. Nothing seemed sufficient.
You let the text stale. Sit stagnant on your phone. Jack would likely worry, eventually call—you just wanted to fall into a void and never return. Not after the mess you’d made of dinner.
The mess you’d made of your life.
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Making a ghost of yourself was far more difficult than you’d thought it would be.
Incessantly, Jack had texted you, called you—you didn’t answer any of them. Silence felt a balm to your shame. Selfish, you knew, to just ghost Jack without offering any explanation, but nothing would be sufficient, not without souring the connection you were hoping would die without pain.
Cowardice, craven, pathetic—you knew you were all of it. To you, you were giving Jack a chance to pull back, to fizzle the friendship of his own accord. Maybe then it would’ve stung less, if the desire of its end was reciprocated, mutual. As it were, it was not.
Even with your withdrawal, Jack still tried. Shot texts, called and punctuated them with voicemails, sent you TikToks and Snaps and everything he would normally do if everything was fine; but it wasn’t. And you knew he knew, could sense the urgency in his attempts at communication.
You felt dirty, filthy with shame and guilt.
Despite your best efforts, you didn’t appear as unaffected as you hoped. While your insides were shredding themselves, you tried valiantly to paint over your visage with the normal happy-go-lucky smile you always wore. Most people, if they noticed, didn’t comment on it.
Unfortunately, Kaylen did notice.
Since your freshman year of college, Kaylen had been your roommate—low maintenance, intelligent to the point of making you stupid without even trying. As such, she was far more perceptive than you gave her credit for.
There’d been times you confided in her about your feeling for Jack, sought out advice that never seemed good enough. Because no one but yourself could fix the valley that had split between Jack and you. You could seek outward help all you wanted, but nothing would change unless you did something—and, really, you weren’t sure that was even a good idea anymore.
Two days of moping resulted in Kaylen’s intervention.
“Get up.”
Sunlight bled through your shut eyes, forced a wince. Hands rolled you onto your back, the somewhat stiff mattress of your bed providing a measly cushion. Sleep intruded on, your hands extended, attempted to push away the figure you knew what trying to rile you.
“Go away,” you grunted, throat thickened by sleep and other terrible emotions.
“No,” Kaylen hissed. When finally you opened your eyes, her squinted expression invaded your vision. “Look, I’ve let you be miserable for two days, but it’s getting ridiculous. What the hell happened with you and loverboy?”
A jolt nearly paused your heart mid-beat. Thinking about Jack stung in a way you didn’t like to admit, mainly due to the fact that it was painfully embarrassing that he had such a control over you.
“Don’t call him that,” you muttered, bit your tongue to stop anything else from spilling out.
Kaylen’s eyebrows quirked. “So it is about him?”
Nails scraped your lungs. “No—yes—fuck,” you moaned, sitting up and balancing your forehead on bent knees. “It’s… all fucked up, K. I don’t know what to do.”
A sigh left her lips. You felt the bed dip as she climbed beside you. “I can help if you tell me.”
And so you did, started at the beginning of dinner to the end, as you left like a dog defeating in a cage match, heart crying blood. Comforting circles were rubbed into your thigh, but all they did was remind you how Jack used to trace shapes onto your leg, or arm, or back—how he touched you, just to know you were there, with him. He said it placated him.
It was shameful, how bile teased your throat even imagining it.
Rationally, you knew everything was your doing. Loving Jack, torturing yourself by being in his presence whilst he focused his attention on his girlfriend. Expecting any semblance of affection or intimacy even as another held his heart, branded her name over your own. It was always going to happen—knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.
When finally you finished, the conclusion of your mournful, self-pitying tale followed by the sting of unwanted tears, Kaylen’s thoughtful silence waned. Her lips pursed, fingers twitching. You expected her to berate you; what had you expected, stupid girl? He has a girlfriend!
Instead, Kaylen hugged you. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulled back with that pitiful smile you’d seen one too many times—one you’d be fine with if you never saw again. “He cares about you—”
“Not how I care about him, though,” you finished, and Kaylen gave a weak nod.
“I mean, if you told him what Brooke and her little bitch of a friend said, I’m sure he’d leave her. He’s done more for less.” That much was true. Regardless of whose lips it came from, Jack didn’t tolerate disrespect towards you—cut long time friends off for assuming they had any authority to speak poorly of you.
And you knew—knew with the same certainty that you knew your own name—that Jack would break up with Brooke if he knew how she’d spoken of you.
That should’ve made you giddy. Bursted bright light in your chest at the prospect of having Jack to yourself once more. Instead, it made you feel heavy, sand packed into your bones. Who were you to invade his happiness? If he’d chosen Brooke, so be it.
Sure, she’d disparaged you, but Jack’s life wasn’t yours to dictate anymore. If he wanted Brooke, he’d have her, until he decided to leave—not because you decided for him.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Eyelids heavy, the residue of late-night tears remaining on the skin, you felt the fight leave you. Kaylen frowned. “I just want it all to be over.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Seriously? You’re giving up on an eight year friendship because of something some dickface said about you? I thought Jack meant more to you than that.”
Kaylen’s words stung. Made you defensive, because she was right—you were giving up and you did care about Jack, but the pain had become too much. “It’s not—it’s harder to explain than that. He’s outgrown me, K. Everyone can see it but him. I’m an obligation, a burden, and yeah, maybe he loves me as a friend and maybe he wants me around, but his friends never have—his fucking girlfriend doesn’t. And at this point, I just want it to end, I want him to be happy without the conditions of making me happy.”
Silence followed. Contemplation showed clear on Kaylen’s face. You could tell, even without her words, that she didn’t agree—but, she didn’t comment on that. Rather, she placed a hand on your leg and squeezed.
Just like Jack always did.
“It’s your life, babe,” she conceded. “And if you want to do this, I’m not going to stop you—but you have to be content with it.” She gestured to you, the nest of blankets and red-rimmed eyes. “Because this? This isn’t happiness over a good choice. You’re miserable without him, and it’s been barely two days. Think about what you’re doing before it’s irreversible.”
With that, Kaylen got up and went to her own bed, and neither of you made comment of it for the rest of the day.
Her words came again and again like a fractured turntable. Of course you were miserable—Jack had been a constant in your life for eight years, consistently preserving your peace, including you when you’d never felt more like an outsider. Happiness was synonymous with Jack, his smile, his presence, him.
Did you regret your decision? Yes, and no. You regretted the way you’d gone about it. The petty silence, ignoring a person who’d made your younger years bearable. Your friendship deserved a better death than that, a reason rather than just… fading from existence, as if it never mattered in the first place.
That wasn’t the message you wanted conveyed, and so with fingers unsteadied by aftershocks, you texted Jack.
You weren’t sure how you’d explain, if you could tiptoe around the actual reason. Maybe you couldn’t, and maybe that was okay.
me
i’m so sorry for everything. i’ll explain in person. can we meet up?
Your response came half a second later. As if he were waiting. That selfish part of you prayed he had been.
j :)
ofc. my place tn?
me
yeah. that’s good. brooke won’t be upset?
Asking after her made you want to puke, but you knew it was necessary—she didn’t like Jack even breathing near you, having an entire sit down conversation with him was certainly out of the question.
Thrice, the little text bubble appeared and disappeared on your phone screen. You could sense the apprehension without any background knowledge.
j :)
not a problem. we broke up.
It was shameful, the backwards type of pleasure that brought you.
Maybe you were a terrible person. A terrible friend. You tried to reason that it wasn’t wrong to love someone, to wish they were yours.
me
shit j. i’m sorry
j :)
i’m not. i’ll see u tn. 7:30 work? have dinner w the guys.
me
yeah, that’s fine. see you soon, j.
j :)
be safe. i’ll text you when i’m home.
The hard part wasn’t even over, and your heart was already breaking in two.
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Sweat beaded at your palms, the cold claws of apprehension raking down your spine. Countless times you’d been stood here, facing the lifeless beige of Jack’s apartment door. This time, however, you stood here knowing it was the last time. A silent farewell to familiarity, the ties finally cut. Jack would fight, you would cry, and maybe he’d be able to change your mind—it seemed such an unlikely outcome that it calcified every inhale in your throat.
Shaking hands rapped the wooden door, where behind would come the execution of a friendship you’d held like a crutch for years upon years. Your childhood had died, and maybe it would’ve been better had it been left there as well, so as to spare you this heart-rending pain.
Even still, you wouldn’t have traded those years for the world—everything they taught you, through pain and happiness. It made you who you were, brought you to his doorstep with melancholy eyes and a failing heart.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door, urgent in a way that picked up your heart rate. The next moments you imagined with brutal clarity—Jack’s hopeful gaze, blue in a way no one else’s ever had been, the soft slope of his nose you teased him for, scrunched whenever he was particularly concerned. How he’d usher you in, hear your words, plead for a moment to explain, and then admit his love for you.
That was how you dreamt it. Unsurprisingly, it was not how it went.
Instead of the door opening to reveal the man you’d love for a lifetime, the squealing hinges were followed by a face that nearly knocked you backwards. Previous indifference smeared into flat-out disdain as Brooke’s eyes caught your figure, engulfed in one of Jack’s faded hoodies and likely disheveled in a way she’d never experienced herself.
Arrows punctured your lungs, sole your breath and defaulted your barely beating heart. Brooke was here. At Jack’s apartment. After they’d supposedly broken up. Had he lied? Was he tricking you, making you the fool? He never would, you knew that, but your wounded mind spun falsities to perpetuate your pain, as if punishment for trusting him in the first place.
“What do you want?” Brooke grunted, leant against the doorframe. Lips twitched into a smirk, the smile of the victorious.
You’d never considered yourself a violent person, but the urge to punch her in the teeth itched your fists. “Is Jack here?”
Her face fell. Something dark flashed in her face—she hesitated a moment, tossed a look over her shoulder. “Yes.”
The curt response was better than nothing, you supposed. “Right, well, can you tell—”
Brooke ran a hand through her hair. Adjusted the clasp of her necklace. “We were kind of in the middle of something. Come back later?”
The axe struck down.
Gravel filled your throat. Suffocated you. If Brooke knew the affect of her words, for once it didn’t show on her face. Years of life had taught you many things, drug you through agonies you wouldn’t relive for anything, yet somehow, this was the worst pain.
To be betrayed, trust snapped by a single action, it stung. Wormed venom in your veins and contaminated your bloodstream, poisoning your heart. Realistically, Jack hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He was allowed to hook up with other girls, to love them—he had, for years.
That wasn’t the issue.
No, it was the fact that he’d set a time, invited you over, and somehow forgot? Or had he set it all up, just to rub it in your face, get his lick-back for your prolonged silence towards him? Either way, it hurt, hurt like a bitch.
Made stone, all you did for a moment was blink at Brooke before a voice called from the background, “Who is it?”
Jack.
Fright found you then, broke away your shell of stone. You couldn’t let him see you, the dog wishing once more to come in from the cold. If he’d planned it, and saw you, he knew he’d won. If he hadn’t planned it, then he realized that—irrecoverably—he fucked up. Both choices felt like a criminal trial you didn’t want any part of.
“I—um—have a good night,” you rushed out, feet stumbling over themselves as you practically ran away from Jack’s door.
So much for closure.
So much for being broken up.
Maybe this was your sign. The one you needed to finally pull away.
Because Jack Hughes didn’t love you. Not past platonic soulmates—a relationship stained with past memories, ones that made both of you incapable of letting go, even as you outgrew it.
You were done being second best. Done trying to squeeze into a place you didn’t fit anymore.
If Brooke was Jack’s choice, so be it. You didn’t want any part of it anymore.
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 (𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)
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IN HONOR OF MOTHER'S NEW ALBUM, i am doing a celly !! so i've been listening to this album on fucking repeat since friday and you know your girl had to make a celly! listening to these songs i was so freaking motivated because miss swift did NOT come to play.
ttpd is one of the best albums she's ever written please argue with the WALL! it is sososososososos good, i actually can't fathom she wrote so much DURING a tour? that's insane to me.
i am going to be writing some fics of my favorite songs !! bc girl i am not writing 31 fics
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FUCK IT IF I CAN'T HAVE US | ANDREI SVECHNIKOV [TRACK 4, DOWN BAD !] |
ALL THOSE NIGHTS, HE KEPT ME GOIN' / SWIRLED YOU INTO ALL OF MY POEMS | QUINN HUGHES [TRACK 7, FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER !] |
FLORIDA IS ONE HELL OF A DRUG | LUKE HUGHES [TRACK 8, FLORIDA !!!] |
I CHOOSE YOU AND ME RELIGIOUSLY | AUSTON MATTHEWS / MATTHEW KNIES [TRACK 9, GUILTY AS SIN !] |
I'LL SHOW YOU HEAVEN IF YOU'LL BE AN ANGEL, ALL NIGHT | TREVOR ZEGRAS [TRACK 11, I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN) !] |
YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE | SIDNEY CROSBY [TRACK 12, LOML !] |
BABY, I'M THE ONE TO BEAT 'CAUSE THE SIGN ON YOUR HEART / SAID IT'S STILL RESERVED FOR ME / HONESTLY, WHO ARE WE TO FIGHT THE ALCHEMY? | JOE BURROW [TRACK 15, THE ALCHEMY !] |
I HEAR THE WHISPERS IN YOUR EYES / I'LL MAKE YOU WANNA THINK TWICE / YOU'LL FIND THAT YOU WERE NEVER NOT MINE (YOU'RE MINE) | JACK HUGHES [TRACK 18, IMGONNAGETYOUBACK !] |
I'LL DRINK WHAT YOU THINK, AND I'M HIGH / FROM SMOKIN' YOUR JOKES ALL DAMN NIGHT | PAIGE BUECKERS [TRACK 22, SO HIGH SCHOOL] |
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uluvjay · 4 months
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Santa red-J. Hughes
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Jack Hughes x fem! Reader
Jack gifts you an early Christmas gift and asks you to model it for him
Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(a no no), teasing, pet names, dirty talk, grinding, cursing, kissing, porn with a small plot, this was supposed to be out before Christmas so I apologize😭, sorry for any errors!
Day 10 of my ficmas celebration!
The ride home from the prudential center was quiet, not a word spoken even as Jack pulled into his parking spot and exited the car.
You could see he was still tense from the game, you could hear Lindy screaming at them from the hallway where you and Jim waited for the boys to come out.
The tips of his ears were still red with anger, and you knew him well enough to know he was still pissed about being sent to the box and the added loss had fueled his anger further.
Once you entered the shared apartment he took off towards your bedroom while you went into the kitchen, You were taking a drink of water when you heard his stiff voice call out for you.
“Everything okay?” You questioned as you appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
Jack was sitting on the bed, shoes and coat off but his game day suit still hugged his body deliciously. Beside him was a Christmas bag, tissue paper coming from the top.
“Can you put this on?” He asked, extending the bag out towards you.
“What is it?” You questioned, taking the bag from his outstretched hand.
“Was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was low, not longer only filled with anger and embarrassment but something more.
“Okay.” You shrugged, setting it down on the dresser beside you as you went to strip off your devils crewneck, however a large hand on your arm stopped you.
“C-can you put it on in the bathroom? Wanna watch you walk out in it.” He blushed.
“Of course.” You smiled, picking the bag back up you made your way into the large bathroom connected to your bedroom.
Opening the bag you found a box, one that belonged to Jacks favorite lingerie store. You had bought a set for his birthday one year and since then he had been in love with the place.
Opening the box you were met with a deep red set, a tad bit darker than traditional Christmas red. Running a finger over the lace you took in how delicate it was.
You would never understand why he spent so much money on sets just for him to always end up ripping some part of it during the night.
Stripping off your clothes you slid the set onto your body, admiring yourself in mirror. Your eyes caught how well the color complimented your skin tone and the way the cups of the bra pushed your boobs up perfectly.
“Once again, you have magnificent taste.” You laughed as you stepped out of the bathroom.
Jacks head whipped in your direction as he heard your voice, a breath getting caught in his throat as his eyes locked on your body.
The set was perfect, the panties making your legs looks even more delicious, and your breasts-god your breasts, Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to control himself.
“Oh fuck me.” He mumbled, running his hands over his face.
“I mean if you want me to.” You teased the man, making your way over to stand between his legs.
“You look breathtaking.” He spoke lowly, eyes taking in your body at a closer angle.
“Thank you.” You smiled, leaning down to give him a soft peck.
The boy whined as you tried to pull away, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist to keep you trapped between his spread legs.
“Give me a real kiss.” He whispered, lips just inches from yours.
“That was a real kiss” you giggled, but Jack didn’t find any amusement in your words and he quickly showed you that by tangling one of his hands in your hair and pulling your lips to his.
It was hot and breathtaking as his tongue traced against yours before it quickly won dominance, your lips moved feverishly in sync earning him a low moan from your throat.
His hand that still rested on your waist slipped down to the back of your thigh, lifting it lightly he signaled that he wanted you to sit on his lap.
You pulled your lips away from his to take your position overtop of him but the make out hastily resumed as you pulled the beanie off his head and tangled your fingers in his damp hair.
The dark locks were still damp from his post game shower but that didn’t stop you from tugging and pulling on the locks just the way he liked.
A smirk overtook your face at the hoarse cry that broke from his throat when you grounded your core over the tent in his pants.
“Baby.” He groaned, hands coming to still your moving hips.
“What do you need Jacky?.” You teased, lips trailing all around his throat.
“You. Need to fuck you.” He groaned, head tipping back instinctively allowing you more skin to roam.
He shivered as you smirked against his skin, heat growing in his stomach as you pulled away and looked down at him.
His eyes followed you as you moved yourself off of his lap and moved your hands up to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, however Jack was a bit to impatient and moved your hands to rip it open instead.
You giggled before trailing your hands down his toned abdomen to his belt, hands working quickly to undo the buckle and pull his pants and boxers down.
And while Jack expected you to climb back on his lap he was filled with confusion as you stepped back and moved to sit against the head board.
“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me.” You smirked down at him with eyes full of lust.
Jack could feel the heat spread from his lower stomach up to his spine as you trailed a hand down to slowly rub over your clit through your lacy panties.
Shaking out of his haze jack shot up and removed his remaining clothing before his body was hovering over yours.
His large hand wrapped around yours and moved it to the side with a soft ‘tsk’ as his own hand came to push the lace to the side.
A groan left his mouth at the sight of how wet you were for him, your cunt glistening in the low light of the bedroom.
A deep cry came from you as he ran his cock through your folds, his head pushing into your entrance with ease.
His hips thrusted forward as a fast pace, the anger that had once been building up in his body now being filtered into his thrusts.
“Jack!” You cried as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulders, his length now hitting the spongy spot deep inside you.
“So good for me baby, feel so fucking good.” He groaned hoarsely.
One of his hands came down to pull the cups of your bra down, hands coming down to palm your breasts, His thumbs tweaked and pulled at your nipples earning sweet cries of pleasure from you.
“Shi-Jacky, you’re so deep.” You whimpered as you felt his tip once again nudging that spot deep within you.
Jack admired the way your body reacted to his menstruations, how your hands clenched the sheets beside you and how your head was thrown back in nothing but pure pleasure.
He could feel you clenching him tightly, and by the way your moans had subsided to drawn out whimpers and mumbles he knew you were getting close.
“Gonna come for me baby?” He questioned as one of his hands came down to rub cricles over your clit.
“Mhm” you moaned with a drunken nod.
Jack smirked at the state of you, he loved nothing more than watching you completely fucked out for him.
“Come on baby, give it to me.” He encouraged, thumb moving at the same pace as his snapping hips as he chased a high of his own.
A loud cry broke through the room as your climax overtook you, the leg that was hooked over jacks shoulder shaking while your back arched and eyes clenched shut.
“So beautiful.” He praised as he placed light kisses to your lips, swallowing your whimpers of overstimulation.
“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there.” He groaned, forehead resting against yours as his thrusts began to get sloppy and deeper.
With a few more deep thrusts the air was filled with a deep groan as Jack came deep inside you, painting your warm walls white with his release.
His large body collapsed on top of yours as his head snuggled into your neck, lips leaving small kisses on the skin.
“Feel better?” You spoke quietly bringing a hand to run through his damp hair.
“Much. Thank you baby.” He smiled giving you a proper kiss before he slid out of you and went to grab a towel to clean you up.
A few minutes later you were both snuggled on the couch, the soft light of the Christmas tree filling the living room while you two let out soft giggles while watching elf.
-
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qrrieterisunnq · 3 hours
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Hi i think sweet creature with nico would be so🥹🥹🥹 (my favourite hs song and fav player)
Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you'll like it!💖🫶
It’s already 1 am, and you’re lying on your couch, tv playing quietly in the background as you’re waiting for your husband to come home after his game. He was supposed to be home three hours ago, right after his post-game interviews.
Your daughter is already asleep in her crib, after an hour of trying to get her to sleep. The whole time she was crying, wanting his daddy to give her a goodnight kiss. You know how much she loves Nico, so it was really hard to explain to her, that daddy is still working, and he’ll give her a goodnight kiss as soon as he comes back. After you promised her that, for the fourth time, she finally gave in and fell asleep.
Your relationship with Nico has been on the wrong path for a while now. You had been arguing for a few months now. It would start with small stupid arguments, but they would graduate to much worse ones. The worst thing is that your daughter is always a witness to them.
It started at the beginning of the season, the devils had such a great start, winning a lot of games, which led to Nico spending his nights in a bar with his team. He was coming home late and leaving early for morning practices. You were used to it, but your daughter wasn’t she is only a year old and is really attached to Nico. She loves him so much which is starting to be the topic of most of your arguments now. You hate he barely sees her, and when he’s at home, it's only for a few hours or for him to get some sleep.
A loud bang on the door pulls you from your thoughts. You straighten yourself, waiting for something to happen. You hear the jiggling of the keys assuming it’s Nico, you stand up and walk over to the door to open them.
You’re met with Nico’s large figure. He stumbles into the apartment cursing when he hits the shoe cabinet, causing all the fall on the ground. You let out a breath, pushing him further into the apartment as you drop down on your knees to put the shoes back in the cabinet. Your head whips in the direction of your living room when you hear a loud band.
Be quiet! Peach is sleeping!” you whisper loudly as you enter the kitchen. “Where were you?” you ask him when you return with water and Advil tablet. “Peach wanted a kiss from you.”
Nico just stares at her blankly, an annoyed look on his face. Y/n let out a sigh shaking her head. “I asked you where you were so late. You were supposed to be at home three hours ago. So where were y-“ Y/n is cut off by Nico’s voice.
“Stop asking me stupid questions!” he snaps at her, his voice full of venom, he stands from his sitting position, hovering over y/n small frame. “You’re acting like a jealous whore!” he yells at her. Y/n’s eyes were well with tears at the hurtful words. She can’t believe he really says this to her, especially when he knows how hard she’s trying to not be one of the wives that has to have control over their husbands.
Before Nico can say anything the noise of their crying daughter interrupts him, noticing the tears in his wife’s eyes. Y/n shakes her head quickly making her way in their daughter room, with Nico hot at her tail, with regrets written all over his face.
“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to.” He let out a sigh, his eyes locked on his wife and their daughter in her arms. “Dada.” Peach mumble as soon as she sees her dad standing next to her. She turns in Y/n’s arms making a grabby hands on her dad. With a small smile, he takes her from y/n’s hold pressing her to his chest, placing a chaste kiss on her chubby cheek.
“Hello my beautiful babygirl.” He whispers, tears in his eyes, as he slowly realizes what an awful father he has been to her. And even more awful husband to y/n.
“Dada.” Nico looks up at y/n, his eyes full of tears, some of them already rolling down his cheeks.
“Y/n I’m so pucking sorry. I, uhm, I know I’ve been acting weirdly and being distant. I don’t really deserve you two, but puck! I love you and I swear I’ll do better. It’s just too much on me, and I don’t know how to handle everything.” You have to smile at his “puck” instead of “fuck”.
“I know, I love you too, Nico. But you have to communicate with me more, okay.” You let out a sigh, walking closer to him to give him a side hug.
“Yeah, I will. I promise.” He nods his head, kissing the side of her head. His eyes closed at the feeling of being in his love's presence.
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puckinghischier · 19 hours
Text
Desperate for Dessert
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
WARNING: smut!! 18+ only. minors DNI. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it). oral(f!receiving). p in v.
summary: anon request for the smut implied at the end of suds n sorrows
notes: this is my first time ever writing smut, so don’t hate me if it’s terrible. i tried 😭
part 2 to this!
[2.9k]
~
“Nico, you’re going to get the bed all wet!”
“Oh trust me, that’s the plan,” Nico smirks down at you, having just thrown your damp, naked body on the made bed.
You roll your eyes as he lets the towel covering his waist drop, showing just how excited he is at the sight of you laying naked on your shared bed.
He wastes no time in crawling onto the bed, hovering over you. “Hi.”
“Hi?” you respond with a giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at his face.
The fire that was present in his eyes just moments ago is gone. He’s holding himself up above you, simply staring at you. The amount of love and adoration that is present in his eyes makes your stomach turn flips. You start to get a little antsy, holding his stare for what feels like hours.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? And how lucky I am to have you? And how much I love you,” he blurts, breaking the intense moment.
“I don’t recall. Maybe you should try and remind me. Jog my memory a little bit.”
A small smile breaks out on his face as he leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He keeps the kiss innocent, pulling back after only a second to place a kiss to your nose.
“I,” his lips move to your left cheek. “Love,” he moves to your right cheek. “You,” his lips land on your forehead before finally returning to your lips.
The kiss is a bit more rushed than the last, his tongue coming to poke at the seam of your lips, gaining the access he wanted. You raise your arms to rest your hands against the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, wanting his body as close as you could get him.
The longer the kiss goes on, you can feel the familiar warmness of arousal form in the pit of your stomach. Nico breaks the kiss to move his lips to your neck, allowing you to catch your breath for a few seconds. You move your hands to his hair as he attacks your neck with bites and sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. Your mind wanders to how quickly the environment went from tender to heated. You let out a chuckle involuntarily, causing Nico to halt his actions.
“Somethin’ funny, Schatz?” he asks through heavy breaths. He looks up at you, lips full and swollen, hair a mess from your hands.
The sight of him like this sends a wave of heat straight to your core. You try to clench your thighs to create some form of friction on the sensitive area, but Nico’s body prevents you from doing so. You start to squirm a bit, needing some relief from the growing arousal.
“Just thinking about how quick you switched from sweet to horny. Thought it was funny,” you admit, taking your hands and pushing the hair off of his forehead, letting them fall back down to the nape of his neck.
“Oh, yeah? This funny to you?” He lowers his hips, rubbing his cock against your slick core, causing you to jolt in surprise.
“Nope. Not at all. Not funny,” you pant out, trying to grind back against him, but he had already pulled away. You whine at the loss of contact, causing him to laugh now.
“Yeah, look at who’s switching up now,” Nico cocks an eyebrow, watching desperation take over your body.
You look up at him, mouth slightly open, begging him with your eyes to do something. You don’t care what it is at this point. His fingers, his mouth, his dick. You just need him to touch you, all humor in the situation no longer on your mind.
“Gotta tell me what you want, Schatz. This is your treat after all, for bein’ such a sweetheart and taking care of me tonight. My treat’s waitin’ on me in the kitchen. But I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to my appetizer,” Nico moves his face down to your neck, breathing his words onto your skin.
“I don’t care. Anything.” You rush your words, eyes falling closed from his hot breath on your neck.
“Uh-Uh. Your choice, Y/N. I don’t move until those pretty little lips of yours do,” he teases, letting his lips move against your skin.
You try to bring your thighs together once again, every touch of his lips on your neck lighting a fire on your skin.
“Your mouth. I want your mouth, Neeks,” you basically moan, thinking of how much you want him to stop talking and do something.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Nico lifts his face from your neck, smirking down at you.
He brings his mouth down to yours, teasing you with a slow kiss, tongue exploring your mouth. He adjusts his body so his thigh is fully in-between your legs, causing you to moan into the kiss when his solid thigh brushes against your soaked core. You take advantage of the contact, grinding yourself onto his naked thigh, chasing relief.
Nico begins to kiss down your jaw, his mouth attaching to your neck once again. “As much as I like the feeling of you riding my thigh, baby, you’re gonna have to stop. You asked for my mouth, ‘member?” he mumbles through his assault of your neck.
“Then quit teasing me and do something, Neeks. Need you,” you whine in response, grinding slightly harder in frustration.
“Good things come to those who wait. And you will, too, if you just let me savor you for a few minutes.”
He moves on from your neck as he slowly slides his body down, removing his thigh from its position against the spot you need him most. His lips find their way down your chest as he licks a stripe down the valley in-between your breasts. Your breath quickens at the action, back arching as he captures one of your nipples in his mouth.
He looks up at you as he swirls his tongue around the taut bud, bringing a hand up to give attention to your other breast. He feels his own arousal growing at the expression on your face. Your mouth is open in a silent ‘o’, not making nearly enough sound for his liking.
“C’mon, Schatz, wanna hear you. Just you ‘n’ me here, let it out,” Nico demands, removing his mouth to latch onto your other breast, switching his hand to toy with the opposite one.
You groan at the sensation, hands gripping at the comforter beneath you. The noise earns a teasing bite to your sensitive nipple, head flying up to look down at the man on top of you.
He looks up at you, eyes claiming innocence as he continues to move his way down your body. Trailing kisses down your stomach, he drops to his knees on the carpeted floor in front of the bed. He removes his lips to readjust and pull your body to the edge of the bed.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. How lucky I am that you’re all mine,” he admires your glistening pussy in front of him. He places small, feather-light kisses on the inside of your thighs, continuing to tease you despite your earlier protests.
“Please, Nico. I’m begging you. Need you,” you cry out, trying to move your body further down to meet his mouth.
“I love it when you’re desperate,” he raises his head, moving further away from where you need him. “Now you know how I feel all the time. Can’t ever get enough of you, pretty girl. Always want you, all the time,” you raise your head to look at him, growing even more desperate at the sight of him between your legs.
He moves his head back down to your center, keeping eye contact as he finally makes contact, licking a stripe clean up to your clit. You cry out at the feeling of relief, dropping your head back down on the mattress.
Nico wastes no time diving in like you’re his last meal. His tongue circles your clit in the most delicious pattern, causing your hands to once again fly to his hair. The sounds of him slurping your juices like it’s a gourmet meal causes you to tug and pull on his hair, earning a groan from him that radiates throughout your whole body.
“Gonna make me blow my load if you do that again, Schatz,” he says against your folds.
“Sorry. Feels too good,” is all you choke out before he reattaches his lips.
You try to keep your touch in his hair light as he continues, but when you feel his tongue enter you, every thought other than pure pleasure leaves your head. You clench around his tongue, feeling the growl he let out at the action. As he thrusts the muscle in and out of your hole, he pulls your body down further, trying to get even deeper.
The sounds you’re making are nothing short of pornographic, trying to squirm from the intensity. Nico places an arm over your waist, keeping your body pinned down during his aggressive assault. You feel the bubble of pleasure growing, the anticipation of your release making every muscle in your body tighten.
“Taste so good, Schatz. Better than candy,” Nico says against you, vibrations causing you to moan out loud enough for your neighbors to hear.
His words, mixed with the noises echoing in your bedroom, cause the coil in your belly to tighten, threatening to break free any second.
“Gonna come, Nico. So close,” you pant out, grasping as his hair once again, pushing his face even harder in-between your legs.
“Soak me, baby,” is all Nico has to say until the band inside of you snaps, causing every nerve in your body to burn white hot. Your legs shake as Nico rides you through the high with his tongue, a warm pleasantness settling over your skin.
Nico removes his face from between your legs once you fall limp, breath heaving as you try to regain oxygen to your brain. He licks his lips as he moves his body up to hover over yours again, not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet taste.
You have an arm thrown over your eyes, your limbs feeling as heavy. “Look at me, baby, wanna see that pretty face of yours.”
“Can’t move,” you mumble, causing Nico to chuckle.
He gently removes your arm from your face, admiring the post-orgasm look on your face. You look up at him with half-closed lids, a tired smile making its way onto your face.
“If this is what baking and running you a bath every once in a while gets me, remind me to do it more often.”
Nico full on laughs at your statement, resting his forehead against your own.
“All you gotta do is ask, baby. I’ll gladly grant your request anytime. Could use a new pre-game meal for good luck next season,” he says before kissing your lips.
Your body instantly heats back up at his words, arousal already building once again. You remember how hard he was earlier, figuring he’s near painful after recent actions. As you look down to see his cock oozing pre-cum, you know he needs relief, soon.
You adjust your body so you can reach down and take him into your hand, stroking a few times as his body tenses, surprised at your actions.
“Your turn,” you find a surge of energy, removing your hand and flipping him over so you’re straddling his waist.
You try to move yourself down his body, knees dropping off the bed and almost touching the floor before Nico shoots up off the bed. He places his hands under your armpits, basically picking you up to bring you back to your previous position.
“Not tonight, Schatz. Want to be inside of you too much,” he squeaks out, your core brushing against his throbbing tip from the angle you’re sitting at.
He pulls your face down to meet his, slamming his lips against yours before turning you back over. He wastes no time in bringing his hand down to your core, groaning at how wet you already are once again.
“God, you’re always so ready f’me,” he slips a single finger inside of you, slipping in and out with ease.
You moan at the feeling, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He pumps his finger in and out a few more times before bringing it up to his lips, sucking on the digit.
“Haven’t you teased me enough tonight?” you whine out, ready to feel full with him.
“Like I said, I like to savor my girl,” is what Nico responds with, moving his body to line himself up with your entrance.
Before you can even try to say anything back, he’s slamming into you so quickly you see stars. He bottoms out from the start, removing himself almost completely before thrusting back into you.
You cry out at the pace he’s setting, mouth hung open and eyes screwed shut.
“This what you wanted, Schatz? Wanted me to fill you up?” he grunts out in-between thrusts, bringing his hand down to stimulate your clit.
The added feeling of his calloused finger rubbing fast circles on your clit causes a sensation overload. Even the moans get stuck in your throat as Nico slams into you. It’s embarrassing how close you are already, your sensitivity causing borderline overstimulation.
“God, you’re always so tight. Always take me so well,” Nico buries his face into your neck, wanting to be as close to you as he can. “Swear, feels like you were made just for me.”
“Just for you. Only ever for you,” you manage to squeak out the broken words.
You bring your other leg up to dig your heels into Nico’s ass, trying to drive him further, deeper. You bring your hands from their place on his biceps to rake down his back, not even aware of how much pressure you’re applying until you hear Nico hiss.
“Glad the season’s over, or I’d be getting an earful in the locker room for the marks you’re leaving, Schatz,” he grunts out.
You can’t even mutter an apology, because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he changes the angle by straightening your bent leg, throwing it over his shoulder, your ankle resting near his ear. He presses a few kisses to the skin above your ankle, the new position has him hitting spots you never knew existed until this moment.
Nico can feel your walls clenching around him, having found the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you. “Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart. Need you to go first. Let go for me, know you’re close.” He spits out, reaching down to rub circles on your throbbing clit once again.
You can feel his thrusts turning sloppy, knowing he’s nearly there. One particularly deep thrust causes your orgasm to explode inside of you with no warning. You cry out in pleasure, entire body spasming. You barely register the feeling of Nico continuing his movements on your clit, nerves burning so hot with your release that you’re almost numb.
The feeling of your release triggers Nico’s own orgasm, causing him to still inside of you. You can feel the warm sensation of his cum inside of you, coming back down from your second high of the night. After a few more thrusts, Nico drops his spent body onto your own. He places soft kisses on the underside of your jaw, letting your leg fall back into a comfortable position. He doesn’t pull out of you just yet, wanting to feel your warmth just a bit longer.
“I love you,” you add to the sound of labored breaths in the air.
“I love you more, Schatz. And not just after sex, still inside of you,” you laugh at his poetic words. “I love you every day, all the time. You’re it for me, you know that, right?” he brings his chin to rest on your chest, making you lift your heavy head to be able to look at him.
Your heart swells, so much love radiating through your bones for the man on top of you. You truly hit the jackpot with him, considering yourself the luckiest girl in Jersey. Hell, the world, even.
“You’re it for me, too, Neeks. Couldn’t love anyone else even if I tried. No room left in here,” you tap your chest, right where your heart sits.
Nico moves his head over to place a kiss where your fingers just touched, laying his ear down to listen to your heartbeat.
The two of you lay like that for a few more minutes, not wanting to break the moment. Eventually Nico pulls himself out of you, remembering that you needed to go pee sooner rather than later. He follows you to the bathroom to help clean you up before you do your business and meet him back in your bedroom. He already has a fresh pair of boxers on, handing you a pair of your own underwear and one of his t-shirts to put on.
Nico slides a pair of sweatpants on as you get dressed, walking over towards the open bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” you question, wanting nothing more than to crawl in bed and cuddle your boyfriend as you fall asleep.
“Did you forget? That was only the appetizer. I still have one more treat left,” he references the cake you made him earlier in the evening.
You laugh as you follow him out of the bedroom, thinking about how he already got his cake, but now he gets to eat it, too.
165 notes · View notes
homestylehughes · 22 hours
Text
boyfriend jamie headcanons
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pairing(s): jamie drysdale x fem!reader
summary: headcanons of bf!jamie!
wc: 447
warnings: fluff!! cute and soft jamie, smut 18+
authors note: hiiii loves!! this is my first request!! so thank you so much for requesting! this is the first time i've ever written for jamie so hopefully i did an okay job!. i really enjoyed writing this!! my inbox is currently open for requests right now, so don't be scared to send anything in!!! like and reblog if you enjoy! as always much love <3
happy reading <3
sfw: 
Bf!jamie: Jamie would be the type of boyfriend to always keep you warm, whenever you're cold. His body is like your personal heater. The second he sees your body shake or sees goosebumps on your arms, he's quick to pull you into this body, warming you instantly. 
Bf!jamie: Jamie always plans the best dates, each date being better than the other. If it's a night out, or a night in jamie never fails to make you feel special! 
Bf!jamie: You're convinced that Jamie is the best gift giver. His gifts are always so personal and heart felt. It's almost like he knows you better than yourself. Your favorite types of gifts from him are small handmade gifts that he makes for you randomly.
Bf!jamie: Jamie gets you flowers every single week, the fresh bouquet always on your counter or outside your door if he's on a road trip. It doesn't matter what type they are, they never fail to bring a smile to your face whenever you see them. 
Bf!jamie: You love Jamie's sense of humor, he never fails to make you laugh even when you're having a bad day. You won't say it to him but he's kind of corny, with his terrible dad jokes but youll laugh every single time. 
Nsfw: 
Bf!jamie: Jamie has always been a soft lover, touching your body in the right places. He always makes you feel special, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he softly pounds into you. 
Bf!jamie: Jamie loves when you mark up his back, how you cling to him when he's hitting the right spots. He loves seeing them in the mirror in the morning, the burn feeling almost as pleasurable in the shower as when you gave them to him. You'd constantly apologize for them being so deep, he'd laugh it off, saying he loves them.
Bf!jamie: jamie loves fucking you in the shower, he loves seeing the water drip down you as he has you pinned against the shower wall, fucking you into obviation. The addition of the water makes the sound of sex louder, hearing the wet slapping of your skins together is enough to make him cum.
Bf!jamie: He loves when you pull on his hair, especially when he's in between your legs. How you grab a hold of his hair pushing his face further into your cunt, moaning loudly for him to keep going. 
Bf!jamie: You guys both love soft morning sex. Jamie thinks is the best way to wake up, with him rolling on top of you, entering you slowly. Making soft slow love as the sun comes up.
69 notes · View notes
luvhughes43 · 6 months
Text
is it over now? | jack hughes
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part two of the beginning
au masterlist⭐️
note: i switched to first person pov for this story just to test it out. Inbox me if you’d want to go back to 3rd person.
warnings: pregnancy, birth
word count: 4.7k
the doctors waiting room is cold and uninviting. i stare up at all the pregnancy posters that litter the walls, and soon my gaze falls to all the mothers and all the fathers. they all sit, talking quietly amongst themselves. the women are gorgeously radiant, and if this were any other time i’d compare their beauty to mine. 
instead, i linger on the way they interact with their husbands, boyfriends, whatever. small touches, whispers, and smiles all burn into my mind like a useless cd. 
“y/n l/n?” a nurse in all blue interrupts my thoughts, she gestures for me to follow her and i do. 
like the waiting room, the small room i’m brought into is cold. i wonder briefly what jacks doing right now. if he had gotten my message or if he’s still asleep. i try to imagine his reaction but i can’t bring myself to conjure up an accurate depiction of him. everything is off - and i fear if i keep trying to imagine this man who’s not my jack, that i’ll somehow forget the real one. 
“we’re just going to do some tests, all very basic things. i need to know your medical history, and i’ll have to do a complete physical assessment,” a doctor walks into the room, clipboard in hand. she doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but I absentmindedly nod to her words anyway. 
“Okay so, is this your first pregnancy?” the doctor asks. 
“Yes” i nod.
“And, do you have any medical history I should be aware of? Past procedures, family history, etc” the doctor looks up from their notes and i pause. 
“Uh, i -” my cell phone buzzes in my purse and i quickly reach for it. Its a notification from sephora, something about how there’s a last minute sale and that i should buy some overpriced body spray. 
“I had my tonsils taken out when I was five, but other than that i’ve had no other procedures” my words come out shaky, as if i’m confused. i turn my phone over again, willing for another notification to pop up. It’s 11:40am, and jack is definitely awake by now. 
the doctor calls a nurse in to prep for the examination. everythings a blur as i lean back. the nurse, short with reddish-blonde hair, has to ask me to lift up the bottom of my shirt twice. 
“And if you look over here, this is where your baby is,” the doctor is confident in her speech as she shifts the little wand around my stomach. 
the appointment was nightmarish. 
the nurse sent me home with a little packet of information sheets, all different colours and all about different things. i don’t want to look at them, so i shove them into the bottom of my purse when i get out of the office. 
⋆ ★
vivienne always made sure to wake up an hour before jack. she liked to make herself a fancy coffee with her espresso machine, and she liked to plan out her events for the day. she had decided that they’d go to the grocery store sometime before noon, hit the mall for an outfit to wear to dinner, and then of course dinner with viviennes friends at 7. 
after her coffee, Vivienne tiptoed her way back into her bedroom. she was proud of the fact that Jack liked to stay here. she made sure her bedding was always fresh and clean when he was over, and she made sure to spray a little bit of her perfume on his pillows so he’d get used to falling asleep to the scent of her. 
Vivienne grabbed a hold of Jack's phone on his nightstand, and slowly slid it off the side of the table and into the palm of her hand. she turned it over, bombarded with the amount of notifications that littered his phone screen. she slid up, quickly typing his passcode. she had to be mindful of her next moves. she didn’t have long to do her routine digging. 
“It’s not really fair for you to be with vivienne if you still have feelings for y/n”
“will you drop it? you were the one who told me to go for viv”
“Jack-”
“No! Dawson, you were the one who begged me to move on. I am. What happened with me and y/n-"Jack cuts himself off. “what happened.. It’s done now. leave me alone” 
Vivienne recalled the conversation she overheard a few weeks ago and she couldn’t shake it from her mind. So, she did what any girlfriend would do and searched the girls username on instagram. 
She hadn’t thought y/n would be any type of problem in hers and Jack's relationship. That was until Jack and Vivienne were laying in bed, with Jack wanting to show Vivienne a picture he had taken a while ago on a roadie. He was scrolling past his photo albums when she saw it. The “it” being a photo album titled “❤️” filled with pictures of jack and y/n at art galleries and whatnot. 
Ynuser: 1 dm request
Accept | Delete
Vivienne clicked onto the dm, and when she saw the words pregnant and yours her blood ran cold. She angled her body away from Jack, and with his reassuring snores clouding her mind, she reread the dm again. 
Jack, I don't even know how to tell you this. It doesn’t feel right. But, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’ve booked an appointment with my obgyn for tomorrow and they’re going to confirm the test for me. You're the only person that I've been with since we’ve gotten together so it’s for sure yours. If you need a paternity test or anything at all just let me know and we can sort it out. Please reach out and we can talk about this in person. I’m sorry.
“Fuck” Vivienne cursed as she clicked Jacks phone off. She turned around and stared at the man in question while debating her options. 
Letting Jack find the message on his own was the most obvious answer but… would he still want to be with her when he found out about the baby? If it even is his, Vivienne rolled her eyes at the thought. 
The next logical option was to delete the message and block the girl. Jack would never have to know, and Vivienne would just have to be the perfect girlfriend for the next little while. She’d make him his favourite foods, dress extra hot, and do everything in her power to make sure he forgot about his ex. 
Vivienne turned Jack's phone on again, and without a second thought, swiftly declined the message request before blocking the girl. 
To make sure her tracks were completely cleared, she searched the girls name up in his contact list and blocked her there as well. 
And, just as quickly as Vivienne had picked up her boyfriends phone, she had set it back down. 
⋆ ★
After the appointment, I was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day with no opportunities to check my phone. During my appointed bathroom breaks, I was too anxious to check. My hands trembled as I hovered over the instagram app, too nervous to see if he had read the message. 
I thought about the next message that I would send all day. Would I send the doctors confirmation? My next appointment date? The reason why I found out about the pregnancy so late? 
When I got out from work, I decided to walk the 45 minutes home instead of taking the Subway. I hoped that the semi-fresh air would clear my mind. 
By the time I unlocked the front door of my apartment, it was 6:45pm. Jack would have gotten out of practice, and he would probably be at home grilling himself a piece of chicken while his rice cooked. 
I pull my boots off and wander into my bathroom. i shut the door behind me, giving myself some privacy from my own space. When I close my eyes, all the memories of Jack and I flicker through my mind like one of those plastic children's cameras.
I take a deep breath, before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket and turning it on. I click into instagram and my stomach drops. 
jackhughes
No posts yet
User not found
what the fuck was i going to do.
⋆ ★
“Claudia!” my voice was hoarse from crying as I pounded on my best friend's door with my fists. I had run all the way to Claudia's apartment, and luckily someone was walking into her apartment complex so I didn't have to buzz in. 
Claudia's door swung open, and she immediately pulled me inside and into her arms. “What's wrong?” she practically cooed, not a stranger to my breakdowns. 
“J-jack he-” I couldn't stomach the rest.
“Babe, slow down… breathe..” Claudia stressed as she started doing breathing exercises for me to copy. I followed her movements, and when I was deemed calm enough she moved me over to sit on her couch. 
I take a few minutes to recover before explaining what happened. 
“I’m going to kill him” Claudia sneered after I had explained the pregnancy, the message, and how my ex boyfriend-turned-baby daddy had blocked me. 
“What am I going to do?” I was crying again. I was bordering on exhaustion as I leaned my head against the back of Claudia's couch and wailed.  
My hand found its place at the top of my stomach, where the faintest baby bump had begun to form. 
⋆ ★
vivienne just added to their story!
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vivienne
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liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, alixearle, and others
vivienne mr nhl man
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user01 VIVIENNE HAS A BF??
user02 viv baby who is it
user04 vivnation lost
user05 jack and trevor liking ohhh wow…
user06 is it jack?
user07 i thought jack has a gf?
user06 he was seen out with a girl a few times months ago but that was it lol
user08 the nhl girlies lost
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⋆ ★
ynuser
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liked by claudia, and others
ynuser my baby🤍
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claudia im a proud honorary aunt❤️
user00 congrats!! 
user01 Congratulations on your pregnancy sweetie! We have to get together sometime soon😘❤️
⋆ ★
the pregnancy was lonely. It was all long hours at work, quiet doctor appointments, and late nights binge sessions watching gossip girl with whatever craving plagued my mind. 
I tried my hardest to stay away from social media, my heart cracking a little more every time jack came across my feed with his rumoured new girlfriend. of course, i knew it wasn’t a rumour, which just made everything more miserable. 
“Do you want to know the gender?” the ultrasound tech asked as she shielded the sonogram screen away from my view. 
I nod, “yes, please”
Claudia squeezes my hand. “Are you sure? I can throw you a gender reveal party if you want? Or we can do something with just the two of us?” 
I didn’t want to hurt Claudias feelings, but it wouldn’t be the same without jack. 
I must have took too long to answer though, because the ultrasound tech looked at me with pity filled eyes as she said, “i’ll put the gender info in an envelope for you to take home”
All i could do was nod. 
⋆ ★
“Im sorry, blair.. But you lost the baby”
“where’s chuck?”
“B, he lost a lot of blood, and he never woke up” 
Gossip girl season 5 played in the background as I picked at my newest pregnancy craving, strawberry cupcakes from a bakery off seventh ave. 
i sighed heavily as i continued watching the show. this has got to be the saddest episode… i thought as blair started praying for chucks survival. As the scene went on, tears pricked my own eyes as i thought about the past five months. 
i was almost done with my 2nd trimester, and i was still refusing to acknowledge my pregnancy. I felt as if i were walking through water, i was restricted in all of my movements and my mind was cloudy like i had just spent all day in the michigan summer sun. 
The episode finished, with blair telling chuck that she loved him but that she couldn’t be with him and that she couldnt tell him why. 
When the screen turned black and i was faced with my reflection, i started sobbing. 
Heavy tears rolled down my cheeks and fell onto my duvet, which turned the cream coloured blanket into spots of grey. 
Without thinking, I rolled out of bed and threw on a thick sweater that I found strewn against a chair backing. I wandered out into my entryway, shoving on a pair of my mini uggs as I searched high and low for that stupid little envelope that my tech gave me. 
It was in my purse, hidden behind a hundred other little things. Once the envelope was grasped firmly in my hands, i ripped open my door and rushed down onto the street. 
I didn’t have a lot of time to think this through. If i placed the order now, everything would be okay and fine...
Truth be told, i was afraid that if i didn’t order a gender reveal cupcake that i would be doing my baby a disservice. I promised to myself that i would be able to do this without jacks support, and yet here i was crumbling under the pressure of motherhood. 
The bakery shop chimed with my arrival, and then i was in the small line up to make an order. 
“Hey, what can i get for you tod-”
“Can i get a gender reveal cupcake? Or one of those little cakes?” i ask, thrusting my envelope into the guy at the registers hands. 
He looked taken aback before responding very politely, “i’m sorry, you’re going to have to make an order online” 
“Oh,” my shoulders sag in disappointment. I hadn't thought far enough ahead. 
the guy stared at the crumpled up envelope in his hand, and then back at me. “Why don’t you go sit down and i’ll figure something out for you,” his voice was kind as he noticed my dishevelled state. 
I nod, and then move to an empty seat in the corner of the bakery. Another employee was sweeping the floors, and i realize that the store must be due to close soon. I need to pull myself together… 
About ten minutes later, the guy from before walked over with a little white box in his hand. On top of the box sat my envelope which was now cleanly cut into. 
“It’s not the prettiest thing in the world,” the guy chuckled as he placed the small box in front of me, “but it should work” 
“Thank you,” i stutter, pulling a crisp $10 bill out of my pocket and handing it over to the guy. 
At first he shakes his head in an attempt to decline the money, but I insist he takes it anyway. 
back at home, i get comfy at my kitchen table where i finally open up my box. It was a vanilla cupcake with white vanilla frosting. 
I take a deep breath before taking a small bite, and when i swallow, i see the remaining pink icing that filled the inside of the cupcake. 
“we’re having a little girl,” i whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as i rub my bump soothingly. 
⋆ ★
Jack Hughes was stuck. He felt bad for Vivienne and he felt bad for himself. It wasn’t Viviennes fault that his attention was elsewhere because on paper, Vivienne Aiden was probably who most would consider his perfect match. 
Vivienne was gorgeous, she had an online career going for her, and her apartment did smell amazing… but something just wasn’t right. 
When she fell asleep beside him, Jack would pull out his phone and scroll through his photo album full of pictures of his ex-girlfriend. He would wonder what she was doing, what new journalist piece she was working on, and most importantly, if she was happy. He couldn’t bear searching her up online, for fear of seeing she had moved on (which, let's be honest, is very hypocritical of him), so Jack settled with his photo album. 
When Jack finally closed his eyes for the night, he imagined the sleeping figure next to him was his y/n. Vanilla scent was swapped with coconut, a windy spring turned into an endless summer, and the lingering emptiness felt like coming home after a long roadie. 
And in the morning, when y/ns lovely green eyes woke him up, he would blink to find Vivienne staring back at him, and whatever relief he had accustomed himself with in sleep came crashing down again. 
⋆ ★
ynuser posted on their story! 
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jackhughes posted on their story!
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Vivienne posted on their story!
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⋆ ★
Vivienne wasn’t an idiot. she could feel the small shifts in Jack's behaviour. He was slowly distancing himself from her and she wouldn't allow that to happen. 
Therefore, she sent him a teasing photo, planned a romantic dinner at her apartment, and took care of business. 
Create an Account
User: user257483475
ynuser
Dm Request
User257483475: how does it feel knowing that you’re going to be a single mom?
User257483475: must be tough knowing that the daddy doesn’t want it
User257483475: if i were you i wouldn’t even try
Read
⋆ ★
“I can’t believe you're having a little girl!” Claudia squealed as she met me at the front of a baby store. I was now 6 months along, and I hadn’t done any of the necessary baby shopping yet. 
We walked into the store, light pinks and blues and purples clouding my vision. “I can't believe it either! A little girl…” I smile, picking up a little onesie. 
Claudia gets a basket, and we start to make our way through the store. “Have you thought of any names yet?” she asks as she holds up what might've been the cutest baby dress i’ve ever seen. 
I placed the dress in the basket. “I’ve been toying with a few names but it just feels strange” I pick up another little dress and put it in the basket as well. “I’m sure once I see the nursery all together it’ll feel a little more real and i’ll be able to pick something out” 
Claudia smiles at me sympathetically before taking the shopping basket out of my hand and guiding me towards the furniture section.
“I was thinking-” my phone buzzes causing me to pause. I pull out my phone, only to see a few instagram notifications. 
User257483475: viviennes so pretty, i bet you're real jealous huh?
User257483475: jack didn't even want to post you publicly and now he wont even acknowledge his baby… he never loved you.
User257483475: i wish you the worst xx
Read
“y/n? What were you thinking?” Claudia asks, immediately noticing my pause. She walks over to me, one hand on my shoulder as she tries to gauge my facial expressions. “Are you okay?”
I don't want to speak, and so I thrust my phone into Claudia's hands. 
She gasps when she reads the first message from a few weeks ago, and I can feel her tense beside me as she lets her hand drop from my shoulder.
“What the fuck!” she seethes as she stares at all the messages littering my phone.
“How do they know the baby’s Jacks? How do they even know I'm pregnant? My account’s private!” I utter as I close my eyes. 
“Who’s Vivienne?” Claudia asks as she switches out of my dms and onto the search page. I watch her type in Vivienne's name.
“She’s Jack’s girlfriend,” I reply just as Claudia presses on her instagram account. The newest picture on her feed was of her and Jack at some cafe… I felt nauseous. 
“Well, she’s obviously the one sending the messages” my best friend states firmly. Great I thought. Could my life get any more fucked up? 
That night at home, I easily verifiy that it was Vivienne behind the account. For all the scheming she liked to do, she wasn’t very good at covering her tracks. 
First, I used my laptop to try and log into her main instagram account. When I got the password wrong, I clicked the option for instagram to send a code for password resetting via email. The email, half unblurred, showed up on screen. Then, i moved onto the account who’s been sending me nasty messages. Repeated the process, and wouldn’t you know! Vivienne Aiden didn’t doesn’t know how to make a fake email for her fake account, that she uses to harass her boyfriend's ex! Nice. 
With that little confirmation, I blocked both her and the account she’s using to send me messages. 
⋆ ★
My baby’s nursery is painted a soft pink. Her crib is a beige wood, and there’s white flowy curtains with a blackout curtain set underneath. flower prints decorate the walls, and my baby’s name is highlighted on a beautiful homemade blanket which was gifted to me by one of my coworkers. 
“Are you ready, baby?” my mom asks to which I nod. I watch her silently as her hands weave between different sets of baby clothes.
She’s helping me get the nursery finished for babygirls birth next month. 
“I’m nervous, but i’m ready,” I smile, waddling over to the blush pink rocking chair that sits in the corner of the room. 
⋆ ★
“i’m not ready! i need jack!” i cry, squeezing my eyes shut tight as pain overtook my body. i could hear the nurses faintly in the background of my own thoughts, shouting something about an excess of blood. 
a group of nurses stand around me, all shouting different orders to one another. “ma’am you’re bleeding-“ 
“i need, i just need-“ 
a sweet looking nurse cut me off. “sweetie, you’re going to be alright. just breathe, i’ll be right here with you this whole time!” she grabs ahold of my hand to which i squeeze tightly. 
the room spins and my whole body feels cold. I could tell that the nurses started going about their business from all the pinching and poking that was going on, but i couldn’t figure out where all the pain was coming from.
⋆ ★
“Mommy?” I whispered. My mom whipped her head in my direction upon my words. 
“Oh sweetie,” she coos, tears lingering in her eyes as she sits on the edge of my hospital bed. she grabs ahold of my hand. 
“Is…” I start to ask about my daughter but a cry falls from my lips. 
My mom grabs my hand tighter and brushes my hair out of my face. “She’s in the NICU, but the nurses say she’s doing well” 
“Can I see her?” my voice is hoarse. My mom jumps up from the bed and fills an empty paper cup with water. She passes the cup to me, and I gratefully drink its contents. 
“I’ll go get a nurse, okay? She’ll tell you everything you need to know”
I had been asleep for roughly ten hours after my daughters birth. The doctor told me that the pain I woke up to last night was from blood clots, which is the reason behind all the blood and the premature birth. Luckily though, I was pretty close to full term, and I got to the hospital at the perfect time therefore babygirl would only have to stay at the NICU for a few short weeks to monitor her development. 
“what’s her name, sweetheart?” my mom whispered softly to me while her hand ghosted across hairline.
“Leighton Rowe LN,” I replied sleepily as I stared at my baby in my arms. Leightons sweet face suddenly made all the pain worth it.
my mom brushed my damp hair out of my face. “that’s beautiful,” she cooed, and when she gestured towards the baby I tiredly nodded.
as my mom took my baby out of my arms to coddle, i let my eyes close and then i softly drifted off to sleep.
⋆ ★
It was a few months later when it happened. claudia was at my apartment, watching leighton while i ran around the city to get some much needed errands done. i stop at my favourite coffee shop, a place that i hadn’t been to since jack and i broke up. 
i order my usual, a mocha to go, and when i turn to leave jack had just opened the door. I stumble back, not prepared to see jack in the flesh. He looks familiar and yet completely different. 
“y/n,” he greets me, his tone uncertain as he takes a step towards me. How dare he.
“If your girlfriend sends me one more fucking text i swear i’ll ruin her life” i start, my words threatening as i let the weight of viviennes words fall onto my shoulders. for months shes been creating new accounts and messaging me, and despite hitting the "block all and future accounts" feature she still managed to harass me.
“I get that you don’t want to have a baby, but she’s here, and I'm capable of doing it without you. I have been doing it without you. So get your girlfriend to stop harassing me or i’ll press charges,” i spit out, pushing past a shell-shocked jack and storming out onto the street. 
⋆ ★
“I have a baby!” jack shouts angrily, kicking one of vivienne's wooden dinning room chairs. “You hid my baby from me!” 
Vivienne stares, glassy eyed as she watches her boyfriend stomp around her apartment. “Jack, i didn’t mean for it to go this far i-”
“You what? What was the plan here?” he shouts again, running a hand frustratingly through his hair. Jack stops, whipping around to face vivienne again. “Show me the messages.”
“What?” she cries. 
“y/n said you were sending her messages. Show me them” jack repeats, causing vivienne to jump up in alarm. If he saw even half of the things she sent…
Jack storms up to vivienne who immediately pulls her phone out of her pocket. She switches onto one of her many burner accounts used to send y/n messages. 
Jack sat on the couch, hunched over while he read through every single message. He felt sick. 
he hates you
It must suck knowing that your child's dad doesn't want her
Jacks going to be the best daddy to our future baby… its too bad he didn’t want that for you. 
“Jack we can fix this, i swear i’ll do better and-”
Jack stood up abruptly, letting viviennes phone tumble to the ground with a loud thud. “We’re- we’re past done. I don't even know what to say to you,” jack stutters, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. 
“Baby, i’m so sorry” vivienne cries. she tries to reach out to jack, be he swats her hands away. 
Jack backs away, and without another word he leaves viviennes apartment with the slam of a door.  he had to make this right to y/n and his... baby.
-
part three
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