jackethockey

[jackethockey]

No shame

Summary: You are a sports reporter for the NHL when one day you have to report for the New Jersey Devils. You get told you would be interviewing the star of the show, Jack Hughes. You decide to go to a bar after the game where Jack and some of the team also go. While there, you notice Jack came up to you to ask your opinions on the game. You can't help but find the two of you wrapped up in a conversation about hockey. He offers one day to go out for dinner to talk more about hockey. When the night grows on, he invites you back to his place to keep it going. Once there he can't help but just stare at you with lust in his eyes. This leads to a night you will never forget.

Warnings: smut, sex, cursing, begging

Word count: 3241

“Got no shame, I love the way you're screaming my name.”

The atmosphere in the Prudential Center buzzed with excitement as the New Jersey Devils took the ice for their warm-ups, the smooth strokes of their skates carving circles on the gleaming surface. As a dedicated sports reporter for the NHL, you had been handed the enviable task of conducting an interview with the young superstar, Jack Hughes. Your heart raced as you put on your headset and took your position rink side. The lights grew brighter, and the music grew louder, setting the stage for your encounter.

Jack glided over effortlessly, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he leaned in for the microphone. The electricity between you both was palpable, even through the protective barrier of his helmet. You exchanged pleasantries before diving into the meat of the interview, discussing strategy, team dynamics, and his personal aspirations for the season. His voice was confident, yet had a hint of charm that was impossible to ignore.

As you wrapped up, Jack gave you a smile that seemed to light up the entire arena. And then, with a playful wink, he pushed off and returned to his teammates. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. The interview had gone better than expected, but it was his casual, yet knowing, gesture that lingered in your mind.

After the exhilarating game ended in a victory for the Devils, you decided to unwind at a nearby sports bar. The place was packed with fans, still basking in the glow of the win. To your surprise, Jack Hughes and some of his teammates sailed through the door, the sound of their laughter and camaraderie piercing the din. You kept your distance, not wanting to intrude on their celebrations. But fate had other plans.

Jack spotted you from across the room, and with a beer in hand, he navigated through the throng of bodies. He approached with the same confidence he had on the ice, and suddenly, he was standing right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Hey," he said, his voice a warm contrast to the chilly evening outside. "Great game tonight. What'd you think?"

The question caught you off guard. Here was this NHL phenom, asking for your opinion on the very game he had just dominated. You took a sip of your drink, trying to compose yourself, and shared your thoughts on the team's performance. His genuine interest in your analysis was disarming. You talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing as naturally as a perfectly executed breakaway. It was clear that Jack Hughes was not just a star on the ice; he had a charm that extended far beyond the boards.

The evening grew late, and the bar began to empty. As you said your goodbyes, Jack handed you his phone number with a wink, hinting at the possibility of a future off-the-ice rendezvous. With a racing pulse and a grin that wouldn't quit, you walked home through the quiet Newark streets, the echoes of the game and Jack's inviting smile playing on repeat in your mind. Little did you know, this chance encounter was about to rewrite the script of your life.

Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night at the bar grew stronger with each passing day. You couldn't shake the feeling that Jack's wink and the way he had looked at you during the interview meant something more than just a friendly gesture. As you continued to cover the Devils' games, you found yourself eagerly waiting for any glimpse of him, hoping for a repeat of that electric connection. And then, one evening, as you sat in the press box, you received a text message that made your heart skip a beat:

"Hey, it's Jack. How about that dinner we talked about?"

The anticipation grew as you picked out the perfect outfit and rehearsed conversation topics in your mind. The night of the date finally arrived, and you met him at a cozy Italian restaurant, his eyes lighting up when he saw you walk in. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. He talked about his love for the game, his family back in Michigan, and his hopes for the future. You shared stories from your life as a sports reporter, the thrill of live events, and the people you've met along the way.

As the evening progressed, you realized that Jack was not only a phenomenal athlete but also a thoughtful and kind-hearted person, with a maturity that belied his years. The air was thick with the scent of garlic bread and the promise of something more. With each laugh and shared glance, the walls between interviewer and interviewee began to crumble, revealing the possibility of a relationship that could be as thrilling and unpredictable as a sudden-death overtime.

As you were talking, Jack offered you to go back to his apartment to keep the conversation going. You kindly accept and head off. Jack's apartment was modern and spacious, a reflection of his successful career. You followed him in, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. He led you to a comfortable living room, where a large, plush couch beckoned. As you settled in, removing your coat, the conversation between you flowed as naturally as it had at the bar. However, as the fabric of your coat slipped away, revealing the dress you had meticulously chosen for the evening, Jack's gaze lingered. He swallowed hard, and his eyes remained fixed on you, a silent appreciation of your beauty that made you blush.

You looked up, catching him mid-stare, and asked, "Is everything okay?"

Jack took a deep breath, breaking his trance. "You look... amazing," he said, his voice thick with genuine admiration. "I mean, you know, on the ice, you're all professional and focused, but here, off the clock, you're just... wow."

You couldn't help but laugh at his candidness. "Thank you," you said, feeling the warmth of his compliment. "But, what about the game? Did you think the team played well tonight?"

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, they played great," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The energy in the room shifted, the tension could be cut with a knife. He took a step closer, and you realized that the conversation had evolved into something much more personal.

Without another word, Jack offered his hand, and you took it, allowing him to lead you to the couch. As you sat down, the proximity between you was undeniable. You could feel the heat of his hand in yours, and the thump of his heart seemed to match the rhythm of your own. The air was charged with potential, and you found yourself leaning in, eager to hear more about his life outside the rink.

As the conversation grew deeper, you felt the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The attraction was undeniable, and it was clear that Jack felt it too. With every shared smile and every brush of your fingers against his, the pull grew stronger. Yet, you remained professional, keeping the conversation focused on the game and the season ahead.

As the conversation grew more intimate, you found yourselves sitting closer than ever before. Jack's hand reached over and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment too long. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt through your entire body. His eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you realized that the line between professional and personal had grown blurrier than ever before. You leaned in, and Jack met you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a moment that seemed to defy the very fabric of time, leaving you both breathless. When you pulled back, the world around you had changed. You knew that the dynamics of your relationship had shifted, and there was no turning back. 

The attraction you had both felt from the start had just been given the green light, and the excitement was intoxicating. But with great power comes great responsibility, and you both understood the delicate balance you'd have to maintain between your budding romance and the demands of your respective careers. You sat back, a little dizzy from the rush of emotions, and took a deep breath. "Jack," you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement, "This...this isn't going to affect our work, is it?"

Jack's eyes searched yours, a mix of passion and understanding swirling within. "No," he promised, "it won't. But it's going to make every game a little more interesting, don't you think?" His smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but return it. This was the start of something special, something you had never seen coming. But as you sat there, hand in hand, watching the flickering shadows from the street lamps play across the walls of his apartment, you knew that you were ready to face whatever challenges might come your way, both on and off the ice.

Jack's eyes searched yours with a fierce intensity, his thumb still gently caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath before speaking. "You know, I've always been taught to treat women with the utmost respect," he began, his voice low and earnest. "But right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to rip that dress off you and take you right here." His words were raw and unfiltered, a stark contrast to the respectful demeanor he had maintained throughout the evening. The hunger in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill through you.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his hand slid down to grip your waist. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise of the passion he was holding back. You knew that this moment was pivotal, that the line between professional and personal had been crossed, and there was no going back. But as you looked into his eyes, all you saw was honesty and desire. You wanted him just as badly.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you whispered, "Jack, I feel the same way." Your heart was racing, but your voice was steady. You knew the risks of mixing business with pleasure, but the pull was too strong to resist. With a nod of understanding, Jack leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that was as overwhelming as it was exhilarating.

The air grew thick with lust as you both succumbed to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. Clothes began to fall away, revealing the athletic physiques that had been hidden beneath layers of fabric. The sound of zippers and fabric hitting the floor was a symphony to your ears, each note bringing you closer to the moment you had both been craving.

Jack's hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. The feel of his bare skin against yours was electrifying, sending sparks through every nerve ending. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he was trying to claim you as his own.

You broke away for a moment, panting and breathless. "Jack," you murmured, your eyes locked on his, "I want this. But we need to be careful."

Jack's eyes searched yours, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. He nodded, his voice a gruff whisper. "I know," he said, "but right now, I just can't get enough of you."

And with that, you gave in to the passion that had been building between you, allowing Jack to guide you to a place of unbridled pleasure, where the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his body against yours. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist as you both became lost in the heat of the moment, the line between reporter and player, fan and athlete, forever blurred by the intensity of your shared desire.

With a fiery need that had taken over both of you, Jack positioned you so that you were straddling his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel the unmistakable pressure of his hard, throbbing cock through the fabric of his pants, and it only served to heighten your own arousal. The wetness between your legs was a testament to the desire that had been simmering since the moment you had first met. The anticipation was exquisite torture, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you, to claim him as much as he was claiming you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer, as if he could somehow absorb the heat of your want through the barrier of your clothes. Your breathing grew ragged, and you found yourself rocking slightly against him, desperate to relieve the ache that had taken up residence in your core. 

The feeling of his length pressed against you was maddening, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. The connection between you was more than just physical; it was a magnetic force that neither of you could resist. With a low growl of need, Jack stood up, lifting you with him, and carried you to the bedroom, where you both knew the night was about to reach a crescendo that would change everything.

The bedroom was dimly lit by the glow of the city outside, casting a soft light across the room. Jack laid you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he peeled away the layers of your clothing. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as he revealed your naked body to him, his gaze filled with awe and hunger. You felt exposed, but also incredibly powerful, knowing that this man, this hockey god, wanted you just as much as you wanted him. His own clothes followed, revealing his muscular chest and the V-cut abs that had made your knees weak during your first interview.

As he climbed over you, the heat of his body enveloped you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. His cock, now free from the constraints of his pants, stood tall and proud, a testament to his arousal. You reached down to stroke him, feeling the velvety skin and the pulsing vein beneath. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

Jack's eyes burned with desire as he positioned himself at your entrance. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moment before he pushed himself into you, his thick, hard cock filling you up inch by inch. You couldn't help but moan out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside you was more than you could handle. He took his time, savoring every moment, his movements deliberate and precise. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your moans echoing through the room. He began to move with more urgency, his hips thrusting into you with a steady rhythm that had you gripping the bedsheets.

Jack was vocal, his grunts and groans of pleasure fueling the fire between you. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His words only served to make you wetter, and you found yourself screaming his name, the sound of it leaving your lips over and over again. The more you screamed, the more he loved it, his thrusts growing harder and faster, each one aimed at pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just as you felt the first tremors of an orgasm building within you, Jack abruptly stopped, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He loved the sound of your desperation, the way you begged for him to keep going. It was a power play, one that had you squirming beneath him, your body begging for release. "Beg for it," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust. And so you did, whispering pleas into his ear, begging him to give you what you needed. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in your core demanding relief.

Finally, Jack relented, his hips moving once more with a renewed fervor. His thrusts were now punishing, each one pushing you closer to the brink. "Jack, please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the screams of pleasure. And with that, he gave in, his movements becoming more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to the passion that had taken over.

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pressure building until it was almost too much to handle. And just as you were about to shatter, Jack's eyes locked onto yours, his own climax approaching. "Cum for me," he growled, and with those words, you let go, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. The sight of your release was all it took for him to follow, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he reached his peak, groaning your name in victory.

As the intensity of the moment began to subside, you both lay there, panting and sweaty, the aftershocks of your passion still rippling through your bodies. You couldn't believe what had just happened, but as you looked into Jack's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. The connection between you had been undeniable from the start, and now it had taken on a whole new dimension, one that was as raw and real as it was unprofessional.

But in that moment, you didn't care about the consequences; all that mattered was the feeling of Jack's arms around you, the sound of his heart beating in sync with yours, and the promise of a future filled with passion and excitement that could only come from mixing love with the fast-paced world of professional hockey.

[jackethockey]

Taste

Warnings: smut, sex scene, explicit language

Word count: 8917

Summary: In summary, this fic tells the tale of two childhood friends, you and Jack Hughes, whose lives diverge post-high school when you pursue sports management at Rutgers University while Jack stays in Michigan. Despite your promise to stay in touch, the distance and the arrival of Jack's girlfriend, Lily, cause your communication to fade. Years later, after graduating and beginning your career, you serendipitously reconnect when you become an intern for the New Jersey Devils, where Jack is a new recruit. The bond you once had is rekindled, growing stronger than ever as you navigate the challenges of his NHL career and your own aspirations. As you both grow closer with each other again, the unthinkable happens between you for the better.

this fic takes a bit to get into the good stuff but its all part of lore i swear

“He pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue.”

One sun-kissed afternoon in the final weeks of high school, you and Jack sat cross-legged on the lush grass of your backyard, surrounded by the comforting hum of the nearby lake and the whispers of the swaying trees. You had known Jack since kindergarten, his mischievous grin and boundless energy an ever-present force in your life. His brothers, Quinn and Luke, were like additional siblings, their bond with you strong but distinctly different from the one you shared with Jack. As you both gazed into the horizon, the future loomed large, a canvas of unexplored possibilities. You spoke of your dream to study sports management at Rutgers University in New Jersey, your voice filled with excitement and a touch of apprehension. Jack, ever the free spirit, shrugged off the notion of college, his eyes gleaming with plans of adventure and self-discovery. You knew the distance would test your friendship, but you also knew that pursuing your passion was essential. With a bittersweet smile, you promised to stay in touch, no matter how far apart life would take you.

As the day of your departure approached, the air grew thick with the weight of unspoken words and the sweet nostalgia of shared memories. You gathered Jack, Quinn, and Luke in your living room, the space that had hosted countless laughs and heart-to-hearts over the years. Your eyes searched theirs, trying to capture every detail, to hold onto the essence of your friendship in the amber of your mind. You hugged Quinn and Luke tightly, feeling the warmth of their embraces and the reassurance that they would always be there, even if physically apart. Then, you turned to Jack, the one who knew you best, who had seen you at your highest highs and lowest lows. His eyes mirrored your own, a silent understanding passing between you. With a tremble in your voice, you promised to call, to email, to visit, to never let the miles come between you. He nodded solemnly, a gentle squeeze of your hand speaking louder than any words could. As you pulled away, the gravity of goodbye settled heavily on your heart.

The early days at Rutgers were filled with the comforting rhythm of your daily calls with Jack. His voice remained a constant through the cacophony of new experiences, a thread of home weaving through the fabric of your new life. You shared tales of your rigorous classes, the excitement of living in a dorm, and the thrill of exploring the East Coast. In return, he regaled you with stories of his new job at the local sports store, the weekend adventures with Quinn and Luke, and the occasional mischief that still found its way to him. The conversations grew longer, the laughter louder, and the connection between you remained unshaken.

Then, one fateful spring, Jack's voice grew distant. His calls grew less frequent, his texts more sporadic. You chalked it up to his busy work schedule and the natural ebb and flow of life, but as the months rolled by, the silence grew deafening. You had heard whispers of a girl, a new spark in his life, but you didn't let it bother you, not at first. You understood the need for space and the excitement of a burgeoning relationship. However, the gaps grew wider, the conversations shorter, and the ease you once shared became strained.

Her name was Lily, a girl with a laugh that could light up a room, according to Jack. He spoke of her in hushed tones, a secret joy that you felt you had no part in. Initially, you were happy for him, eager to meet the person who had captured his heart. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the realization sank in. The calls grew less about you and more about her, and soon, it seemed like Jack had forgotten the promise you had made to each other under the shade of the old oak tree back in Michigan. His stories shifted from tales of the three musketeers to tales of two, and you felt like a forgotten piece of the puzzle that no longer fit.

One day, without warning, the calls stopped altogether. Your messages went unanswered, your voice mails unreturned. The silence grew heavier than the books piled on your desk. You tried not to let it consume you, but the ache of his absence grew with each unanswered ring. The friendship that had been your compass now felt like a fading star, lost in the vast sky of change.

As you graduated from college, the memory of Jack's laughter and the warmth of his friendship had dimmed like an old photograph left in the sun. The promise of staying in touch had become a distant echo of a past that seemed so much simpler. You had moved on, grown stronger, found new friends, and chased your dreams, but the thought of Jack, of what could have been, remained a silent companion in the quiet corners of your heart.

And so, you stepped into the world beyond Rutgers, armed with your degree and the lessons of friendship, distance, and change. The story of you and Jack remained unfinished, a chapter that you hoped might one day be revisited, but for now, you had to accept that life had taken you on different paths, paths that no longer intersected as they once had. The future you had so eagerly discussed in your high school days had unfolded in ways you couldn't have imagined, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of nostalgia and a hope that the tapestry of fate had not yet been fully woven.

Following graduation, you threw yourself into job hunting with a fervor that mirrored your determination to keep Jack's memory at bay. After weeks of applications and interviews, a golden opportunity arose. The New Jersey Devils were looking for a new Sports Management intern. Although you did not know much about hockey, you still wanted to give it a chance which you would not regret.

The day of the interview was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. You arrived at the Prudential Center dressed to impress, ready to tackle any challenge thrown your way. The interview went smoother than you could have hoped, your passion for sports resonating with the team's management. Before you knew it, you were being offered the position, and you eagerly accepted, eager to start your career in the bustling world of professional hockey.

On your first day, you were given a tour of the grand arena. The smell of fresh ice filled the air as you walked down the gleaming corridors, each step bringing you closer to the heart of the sport you started to love. As you approached the rink, the faint sound of skates slicing through the stillness grew louder, a rhythmic symphony that sent a thrill down your spine. The tour guide led you to the benches, explaining the layout of the area and the routines of the players during games. Your eyes widened as you looked out onto the ice, where a figure skated with a grace and familiarity that seemed almost surreal.

It was Jack. His eyes, once filled with the mirth of youth, now bore the focused intensity of a professional athlete. He was one of the new recruits for the Devils, his dreams of adventure and success intertwining with the sport you now cherished. As your gaze met his across the ice, the years of silence melted away, replaced with a mix of shock and elation. You watched as he skated towards you, his eyes lighting up with the same warmth you remembered from your childhood. The universe had played a cruel trick, but as Jack's hand reached out to give you a firm shake, you realized that perhaps it had also delivered a chance at redemption for the friendship that had once meant everything to you both.

The moment Jack's hand enveloped yours in a firm shake, the years of separation melted away like spring ice. His eyes searched yours for any trace of the hurt or anger that the silence had left behind. "I can't believe it's you," he exclaimed, the awe in his voice a balm to your bruised heart. "What are you doing here?" he asked, a hint of hope and confusion weaving through his words. You stumbled over your own, trying to explain your journey to Rutgers, your love for sports management, and the serendipity that had led you to the Devils. The tour guide looked on with a mix of curiosity and amusement, clearly not expecting this emotional reunion. As the reality of your shared destination sank in, Jack's smile grew wider, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that was as familiar as the warmth of a childhood summer. "Fate has a strange sense of humor, huh?" he said, his voice laced with wonder. With the sound of skates echoing around you, you both knew that the universe had thrown you a lifeline, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between you. This unexpected reunion was more than just a coincidence; it was a testament to the unbreakable bond that had endured through the seasons of life. As you stood there, the rink a silent witness to your rekindled friendship, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, the pages of your story had not been torn apart but merely folded over, waiting for the right moment to unfold once again.

The rest of that day at the Prudential Center passed in a blur of handshakes and introductions, Jack acting as your guide through the unfamiliar world of professional hockey. The players, coaches, and staff greeted you with curiosity and welcomed you into the fold, the buzz of the reunion reverberating through the hallowed halls. You watched in amazement as Jack moved with the confidence of a seasoned player, the grace of his movements on the ice a stark contrast to the nervousness you felt in your own skin. After the initial shock had worn off, you found your voice and shared your experiences at Rutgers, the internships you'd completed, and your hopes for the future. Jack listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to absorb every word, every memory you had missed sharing. You talked about his own journey, the sacrifices he'd made, the endless hours of practice, the scouts that had come and gone, until finally, the Devils had seen something in him that no one else had. His voice was filled with the same passion you had heard in your daily calls, but now it was for a sport, not just for adventure. The conversation flowed as easily as it had back in Michigan, the bond between you as strong as ever, despite the years that had tried to erode it.

As the arena emptied, Jack led you to the locker room, the sacred space where he now called home. The scent of sweat and victory hung heavy in the air, a testament to the battles waged on the ice. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the screen, hesitating. "Do you... do you want to grab dinner?" he asked, the question tentative but hopeful. You nodded, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face. As you stepped out into the New Jersey night, the neon lights of the city reflecting off the puddles from a recent rain, it was as if you had been transported back to your teenage years. The distance between you had shrunk to nothing more than a heartbeat. You walked to a nearby diner, the same one you had dreamt about in the quiet dorm room nights when homesickness had hit the hardest. The comfort food and the familiar banter washed away the years, leaving only the warmth of friendship and the promise of a new chapter.

Over milkshakes and burgers, you delved deeper into each other's lives, sharing the stories that had shaped you both since that fateful goodbye. You spoke of the late-night study sessions, the friends that had come and gone, and the moments when you had doubted your path. Jack, in turn, regaled you with tales of the rinks he had played in, the coaches who had pushed him to his limits, and the quiet moments of triumph when he had scored the winning goal. Lily, the girl who had once felt like a wedge between you, was now a cherished memory, a stepping stone that had led him to the NHL. As you sat there, the chatter of the diner fading into the background, you realized that your friendship had not disappeared; it had merely evolved. It had grown stronger in the face of distance and change, ready to stand tall once more.

The hours melted away, and before you knew it, the diner's lights began to dim, signaling closing time. You exchanged numbers, promising to stay in touch this time without the need for daily reminders. As you stood outside the diner, the cool evening air a stark reminder of the real world waiting for you, Jack pulled you into a warm embrace, the kind that only a best friend can give. "Thank you for coming here," he murmured against your hair. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

You stepped back, smiling up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you for being exactly where I needed you to be," you replied, the weight of his absence in your life lifting like a fog dispersing in the morning sun. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turned to walk away, the promise of a new dawn in your heart. The future stretched out before you, a thrilling unknown filled with the potential of reviving a friendship that had stood the test of time and distance. As you disappeared into the night, the echo of your laughter dancing in the air, you knew that no matter where life took you, the bond between you and Jack Hughes would never truly fade away.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments and rekindled camaraderie. Your internship with the Devils became a tapestry of long work hours and stolen moments with Jack. You found yourself drawn to the rhythm of the team, the roar of the crowd, and the thrill of each victory. Your friendship grew stronger with each shared meal and stolen glance, the threads of your past intertwining with the bright fibers of your newfound future. Jack introduced you to the players, who welcomed you into their tight-knit circle with the ease of old friends. You watched him practice, his dedication to the sport leaving you in awe, and in return, he sat through countless hours of your work, asking questions about contracts and marketing strategies with genuine interest. The dynamics of your relationship shifted, morphing from high school confidants to professional peers, each supporting the other's dreams. You saw him grow not just as a player but as a person, his maturity and perseverance inspiring you in ways you could never have imagined. And as the first game of the season approached, the excitement in the air was palpable, the anticipation of a new adventure you would navigate together, side by side.

The first game of the season was a whirlwind of emotions for you. From the electric energy in the locker room to the deafening roar of the crowd as Jack took the ice, you felt as though you were living a dream. You sat in the stands, your heart racing as the players skated out for the national anthem. The spotlight found Jack, and the camera zoomed in on his face, a mix of focus and exhilaration. You couldn't help but beam with pride, knowing that the boy who once shot pucks at your garage door was now living his dream before thousands of people. Throughout the game, you watched him glide across the rink with an ease that belied the complexity of the sport. Every pass, every shot, every strategic move was a testament to his talent and hard work. As the Devils scored their first goal, Jack's name echoed through the arena, and you felt your heart swell. This was more than just a job; it was a chance to be part of something greater, a chance to share in Jack's success.

During the intermissions, you found yourself pacing the corridors, a strange mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. The air was thick with anticipation, and you could feel the pulse of the game resonating in every corner of the building. You watched as Jack's teammates slapped him on the back, sharing words of encouragement and strategy. The camaraderie was infectious, and you found yourself longing to be a part of it. You had always loved sports, but being behind the scenes of professional hockey was an experience you never could have imagined. The smell of the locker room, the sound of skates cutting through the ice, and the thunderous applause of the fans were now part of your new reality.

As the final buzzer sounded and the Devils secured their victory, you could feel the vibrations of the cheers in your chest. You rushed down to the locker room, eager to congratulate Jack. The moment you saw him, sweaty and exhausted, the grin on his face was worth every mile that had once separated you. He pulled you into a fierce hug, his eyes gleaming with happiness. "We did it," he said, and in that moment, you knew that the years of silence had not been wasted. Your friendship had weathered the storm of time and change, emerging stronger, ready to face whatever the future held.

The celebration was a blur of handshakes and congratulations, the air thick with the scent of victory and the promise of new beginnings. As the players filtered out, Jack grabbed your hand and led you back onto the ice. The lights had dimmed, and the rink was quiet, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the game. You looked around in wonder, feeling the cold bite of the ice beneath your feet as Jack skated around you, spinning in circles with the grace of a figure skater. "This is what it's all about," he said, his breath coming out in little puffs of mist. "The love of the game, the rush of the crowd, and knowing that no matter what happens out there, you've got someone cheering for you."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. In that moment, you realized that your paths had not diverged as much as you had feared. You were both chasing your dreams, just in different arenas. The bond between you had not been lost; it had merely transformed into something new, something that could withstand the tests of time and the challenges of adulthood. As you watched Jack pirouette on the ice, you knew that no matter where life took you, you would always be part of each other's stories, forever connected by the unbreakable thread of friendship that had been woven into the fabric of your lives.

With the echo of the final buzzer still ringing in your ears, you and Jack found yourselves back in the quiet of the now-deserted rink. The ice glistened under the soft glow of the arena lights, a serene stage where moments of triumph and defeat had unfolded just hours before. The air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the sticky warmth of the summer afternoons you'd spent together in Michigan. As you laced up your own skates, the leather a familiar comfort from your college days, you felt a surge of excitement. You had never been on the ice during a professional game, let alone had the chance to skate with a player of Jack's caliber. He offered his hand, and with a gentle pull, you found your balance on the unforgiving surface. The cold bit at your cheeks as you pushed off, the sound of your blades slicing through the ice a sweet symphony that resonated deep within. For a moment, you felt like you were back in time, two friends chasing each other around a local rink, laughter echoing off the walls. 

But the reality was far grander than any childhood memory could ever be. Jack's movements were fluid, a dance of power and precision that spoke of the countless hours he had dedicated to this sport. As you clumsily attempted to keep up, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the journey that had led you both here. The friendship that had once been the cornerstone of your youth now stood tall and unshaken amidst the glitz and grind of professional hockey. Each stroke, each turn, brought back memories of shared dreams and whispered promises. And as you skated alongside him, you knew that no matter how different your paths had become, the heart of your friendship remained unchanged. This was more than a reunion; it was the start of a new chapter, one where you could both cheer each other on, no matter which side of the rink you stood.

Jack's eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, signaling that it was time to wrap up the night. "Why don't you come back to my place?" he suggested casually, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his hand still lingered from your earlier handshake, and as he led you off the ice, you found yourself nodding in agreement, curiosity and an undeniable attraction tugging at you. The ride to his apartment was filled with comfortable banter, the kind that comes from years of shared history. As you stepped into his space, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of victory from the game still clinging to him, you couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere had shifted. The air grew thick with unspoken desire as you both removed your coats, your bodies now just a whisper apart. You turned to face him, and the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. His eyes raked over you, the hunger in them making your pulse race. You felt your own attraction mirroring his, a magnetic pull that had been building unnoticed beneath the surface of your friendship.

You sat down on the couch, the leather cool against your skin, and Jack followed suit, his leg brushing yours. The TV flickered in the background, but the only thing you could focus on was the heat between you. You began to speak, but the words got caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. The silence stretched, your eyes locked onto his, and the world around you seemed to fade away. You could feel the tension coil tighter with each passing second until it was almost unbearable. The sudden realization that this moment was more than just a friendship hangout hit you like a slap of cold water. You licked your lips, and Jack's gaze dropped to your mouth, his own parting slightly. It was as if you were both poised on the edge of a cliff, the anticipation of what could happen next making your heart race. Without a word, you reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. The space between you closed, and when your lips finally met, it was with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. The years of friendship had transformed into something new, something thrillingly intimate and overwhelming.

The kiss deepened, and you felt the heat of his hands as they wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. The fabric of your clothes seemed too restrictive, the layers too many. You tangled your fingers in his hair, the softness of it sending a jolt of electricity through your fingertips. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, lost in the kiss, but when you finally broke away, panting and flushed, you knew that there was no turning back. The line had been crossed, and you were both ready to explore the uncharted territory of your relationship. The rest of the night was a blur of passion and whispers, of discovering each other's bodies and souls in a way you never had before. And as you lay in his arms, the echoes of your love-making still resonating in the quiet apartment, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love story that had been written in the stars all along.

Jack's hands slid from your waist to your thighs, his grip firm as he effortlessly lifted you, making you straddle him. The sudden shift in position brought his hard, throbbing cock pressed against your pussy, the fabric of your clothes the only barrier to the intimate connection your bodies craved. You gasped into the kiss, the pressure of his arousal sending waves of heat through your core, making your pussy ache for more. You could feel your own wetness seeping through your panties, your body's response to the raw passion in his touch. His hands roamed up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples through your shirt, and you moaned, grinding down onto him. The friction was exquisite, the promise of what was to come a tantalizing whisper in the air. As you rocked your hips against him, you felt the urgency build, a desperate need to be closer, to feel every inch of him inside you. The world outside of Jack's embrace ceased to exist, and all you could focus on was the delicious pressure of his cock and the wetness that was pooling between your legs. The anticipation was unbearable, a sweet agony that made you whimper with need. You broke the kiss, panting, your eyes locked onto his, and you knew that this was the moment you had both been waiting for, the moment when the unspoken desires of your hearts would finally be laid bare.

Jack gently broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. With a smooth motion, he lifted you off the couch, setting you down on the plush carpet. You could feel the heat of his desire in the way he handled you, the gentle yet firm touch that sent shivers down your spine. He knelt before you, his hands moving to the button of your jeans. He undid them slowly, the sound of the zipper echoing in the quiet room. With trembling hands, he slid the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your shirt and panties. You stepped out of the puddle of fabric, feeling exposed but incredibly aroused under his hungry gaze. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you before his eyes dropped to your underwear, the fabric now damp from your arousal. With a wolfish grin, he hooked his fingers in the waistband and yanked them down, revealing your wet pussy to the cool air. The sight of your wetness made his cock twitch with excitement, and he couldn't resist leaning in to inhale the intoxicating scent of your desire.

As he took in the sight of you, sprawled before him, Jack's eyes shone with a mix of love and unbridled lust. He gently parted your legs, his gaze never leaving your face as he took in the pink, swollen flesh that was begging for his touch. He traced a finger along your slit, watching as your body shuddered in response. He teased your entrance, the pad of his thumb brushing over your clit, making you gasp. The anticipation was exquisite, your body begging for more. And then, without warning, he stopped, his eyes locked onto the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. With a wicked smile, he brought his face closer, his hot breath sending shivers across your skin. He flicked his tongue out, making paintings with his tongue and tasting the sweetness of your arousal, and you moaned, the sensation of his tongue on your clit sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. He took his time, savoring every moment, licking and sucking with a passion that was both tender and fierce. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed under his ministrations, your body a symphony of sensation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With each stroke of Jack's tongue, you felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice of orgasm. Your hips began to buck, your moans growing louder as he sucked and flicked with masterful precision. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly, your body trembling with the effort to hold back the impending release. But Jack was relentless, his mouth working in tandem with his hands, which had moved to your ass, gripping and lifting you closer to him, angling you just right to hit that perfect spot. The pressure built, a delicious ache that grew more intense with each passing moment until it was all you could think about, all you could feel. And then, with a final, forceful flick of his tongue, you shattered, your climax crashing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. You collapsed against him, his arms wrapping around you to hold you up as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your body. His lips moved to your inner thighs, placing gentle kisses along your skin as you came down from your high, your heart racing and your breathing uneven. 

"Jack," you murmured, your voice hoarse with passion, "That was..." Words failed you as he looked up, a smug smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He stood, his own need palpable in the tension of his body, his erection pressing against the fabric of his shorts. "My turn," he said, his voice low and filled with desire. You nodded, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given you. The night was still young, and the fire between you had only just been stoked. This was the beginning of a passionate exploration, a dance of love and lust that would rewrite the very essence of your friendship, binding you in a way you never thought possible.

Jack's strong hands reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the sculpted abs and defined muscles of his athlete's physique. You couldn't help but admire the way the light danced across his chest, highlighting every ridge and dip. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuttoned his shorts. The fabric slid down his hips, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard, a testament to his desire for you. You reached out to touch him, the heat of his skin burning against your fingertips. He groaned as you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently, exploring the velvety head with the pad of your thumb. His breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered shut, his body visibly responding to your touch. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that you could affect him so profoundly. He took your hand away and guided you to the bedroom, his own need for more pressing against your hand as he led you. The room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls, creating an intimate sanctuary for the two of you. He laid you down on the bed, his body following, his weight pressing you into the mattress. 

His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he were trying to devour you whole. His hands roamed over your body, setting your skin alight with every caress. You felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. With a groan, he pushed into you, filling you completely. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the years of longing and friendship coalescing into a moment of pure, raw passion. Each thrust was a declaration of love and desire, a promise that you were his, and he was yours. The friction between your bodies grew more intense as he picked up the pace, his hips moving in a rhythm that had you clinging to him, your nails digging into his back as you matched his movements with your own. Your breath mingled with his, your moans a sweet symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room. 

The connection between you was palpable, a force that seemed to transcend the physical, weaving your souls together as tightly as your bodies were entwined. As the tension grew, Jack leaned down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his breath hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep within you that had you seeing stars. The world outside the bedroom ceased to exist as you climbed higher, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. And when you finally fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave, Jack followed, his warmth spilling into you, the intensity of his release mirroring the depth of your own. You lay there, panting and sated, your hearts beating as one, forever changed by the love you had just shared.

You clung to Jack, your bodies slick with sweat and entangled in the aftermath of your passionate union. His breath was hot against your ear, whispering sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine. You felt the rapid thud of his heart, the pulse of his life force resonating with your own. Your legs remained locked around his waist, unwilling to let go of the connection that had just been forged between you. As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Jack slowly pulled out of you, the sensation making you gasp. He rolled over onto his side, taking you with him, and cradled you in his arms, your heads resting on the same pillow, your breaths mingling in the stillness. He kissed the top of your forehead, the gesture tender and filled with a love that went beyond the physical. The warmth of his embrace was a balm to your soul, and you knew that nothing could ever break the bond that had been formed that night. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the path you were on now was one of love, passion, and a friendship that had transformed into something much more profound. As you drifted off to sleep, your bodies tangled together like the roots of the old oak tree back in Michigan, you realized that sometimes, the universe had a way of bringing people together in the most unexpected of ways, and for that, you were eternally grateful.

The following days were a whirlwind of stolen moments and passionate nights, as you both balanced the demands of your new roles within the Devils' organization and the burgeoning relationship that had caught fire between you. You found yourself sneaking glances at Jack during team meetings, your thoughts straying to the way his muscles had felt under your fingertips, the taste of his skin on your lips. Every time you were together, the chemistry was palpable, your bodies seemingly drawn together by an invisible force that neither of you could resist. The nights grew longer, filled with whispered confessions and gentle explorations that deepened the connection you shared. As you lay in each other's arms, the quiet murmur of the city outside Jack's apartment windows serving as a soothing lullaby, you talked about the future, about how this newfound love could fit into the lives you had so carefully constructed apart. The excitement of the unknown was thrilling, but it was also tinged with a hint of fear—what if the flame that burned so brightly now was just a fleeting spark that would eventually die out? 

Yet, as you listened to the steady beat of his heart and felt the warmth of his body, you pushed those thoughts aside. For now, all that mattered was the here and now, the feeling of Jack's love surrounding you like a warm blanket, keeping the chill of doubt and fear at bay. Each day was a new adventure, a chance to learn more about the person who had been your confidant, your rock, and now, your lover. The love story of you and Jack Hughes was no longer just a distant memory, but a living, breathing entity that grew stronger with every shared kiss and whispered "I love you." And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, the universe had always had a grander plan for the two of you—a plan that had led you both to the very heart of the sport you adored, to find not just success, but the kind of love that could conquer any distance.

Jack took you by surprise when he suggested a date under the stars, a nostalgic nod to the countless nights you had spent together as children, lying on the hood of his old car and making wishes on shooting stars. The air was crisp with the promise of fall, the leaves whispering secrets as they danced in the gentle breeze. He led you to a quiet spot by the lake, a place that had been your sanctuary in the days before the world had grown so large. He spread out a blanket, and you lay down side by side, the soft fabric a cocoon of warmth against the cool grass. The stars winked at you from the velvet sky, a silent audience to the love that had blossomed between you.

As you lay there, Jack reached over, his hand finding yours, lacing your fingers together in a gesture that felt both familiar and brand new. His thumb traced gentle circles on your palm, sending waves of warmth up your arm and into your chest. He turned to you, his eyes filled with the light of a thousand stars. "You know," he began, his voice a soft rumble, "I've loved you since we were kids. And now that we're here, together, I want to make it official." His heart was racing, you could feel it through his touch. "Will you be my girlfriend?" The words hung in the air, suspended like the stars above, filled with hope and naked vulnerability.

You searched his eyes, finding the love and friendship that had been the foundation of your lives. The moment felt like a perfect circle, a culmination of all the moments that had led you to this very spot. You felt your own heart swell with emotion, your voice a whisper. "Yes," you breathed, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "Yes, Jack Hughes, I'll be your girlfriend."

The weight of the word 'girlfriend' settled over you both, a warm embrace that seemed to seal the bond you had rekindled. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise. As you pulled away, smiling through your tears, you cuddled closer to him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you. Together, you stared up at the sky, the stars a testament to the endless possibilities that lay before you. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew it would be bright.

Jack's arms tightened around you, his embrace a silent declaration of his own love and commitment. The stars above seemed to shine brighter in celebration, their light dancing on the lake's surface and casting a soft glow on your entwined bodies. As the night grew colder, you both moved closer, sharing warmth and whispers of future plans. The feeling of his heart against yours was a constant reminder of the unspoken promises you had made—to support each other, to cherish every moment, and to never let the distance come between you again. The sound of the lake's gentle waves served as a soothing backdrop to your newfound love, a rhythmic reminder of the life that flowed around you, just as your love for each other had grown and evolved over the years. With every shared breath and tender touch, you felt the weight of the past lift away, making room for a future filled with excitement and love. And as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his love and the promise of forever, you knew that the journey ahead, no matter how challenging it might be, would be worth every step if it led you back to Jack's arms, to the place where you truly belonged.

The following weekend, Jack had a game, and you watched from the stands, feeling a sense of pride and love swell within you as he glided across the ice. The crowd roared as he scored the winning goal, and as he skated over to the bench, he searched the sea of faces until his eyes found yours. With a grin that could light up the entire arena, he blew you a kiss, his eyes alight with the fire of victory. After the game, you met him in the locker room, the air thick with the scent of sweat and camaraderie. He pulled you into a crushing hug, his damp hair sticking to your forehead as he whispered, "I did it for you," his breath warm against your ear. The other players cheered and clapped, some teasing him good-naturedly about his newfound fan club. As you walked back to his apartment, hand in hand, the excitement of the game still pulsing through your veins, you knew that the path you were on was the one you were meant to follow. That night, you made love in the glow of the setting sun, the warmth of his body and the passion in his kisses echoing the victory of the day. It was a celebration of your love, a declaration that no matter where life took you, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his heart, you knew that together, you could conquer any challenge the universe threw your way.

As the days grew shorter and the chill of winter seeped into New Jersey, Jack and you grew closer, finding warmth in each other's embrace amidst the frosty air. The holidays approached, bringing with them a flurry of team events and the anticipation of time apart as the hockey season went into full swing. You cherished the moments you had together, making every second count. One night, as the first snowflakes of the season began to dance outside the windows, Jack took you ice skating under the glow of the arena's lights. The smoothness of the ice mirrored the ease with which you had fallen into your relationship, and as he held your hand, guiding you through the twirls and turns, you felt your heart flutter in your chest. He was more than just your lover, more than the best friend you had ever known—he was the person who had captured your soul and made it sing. As you leaned against the boards to catch your breath, laughing at your wobbly attempts at a figure eight, Jack turned to you, the snowflakes dusting his eyelashes. He looked into your eyes, his own filled with a love so intense it was almost painful to behold. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "But I know I'll do everything in my power to keep you by my side."

The words hung in the cold air, a vow that seemed to warm the very ice beneath your skates. You knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges—his games, your career, the inevitable separations—but as you looked into his eyes, you also knew that together, you could weather any storm. With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, you leaned in and kissed him, the world around you fading into the background as the magic of the moment wrapped you in a warm embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, with hope, with the unspoken understanding that no matter where the winds of fate might blow, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you skated hand in hand into the night, the stars winking at you from above, you felt the universe itself nod in approval, whispering that sometimes, love was just meant to be.

The months turned into years, and your relationship with Jack grew stronger, a testament to the unyielding bond that had formed between you. Through the highs of victories and the lows of defeats, you were each other's constant, a beacon of support and love that never wavered. As the summer sun kissed the horizon, signaling the end of another season, Jack suggested a trip back to Michigan to visit your old stomping grounds. The idea filled you with excitement, not only to see the place that had shaped you both but also to reconnect with Quinn and Luke.

The journey home was a blend of nostalgia and newfound appreciation. The familiar landmarks grew closer with each passing mile, the anticipation of seeing your childhood friends a thrumming beat in your heart. As you pulled up to the house that held so many memories, the sight of Quinn and Luke waiting on the porch sent waves of joy crashing over you. The moment you stepped out of the car, a chorus of laughter and cheers filled the air as you were enveloped in their warm embraces. The years had brought their own changes—Quinn had settled down with a lovely wife and a baby on the way, while Luke was thriving in his own adventures—but the essence of their friendship remained untouched by time.

You spent the weekend reminiscing about old times, sharing stories of your new lives, and reconnecting over the simple pleasure of each other's company. As the days grew long and the nights grew warm, you found yourself nestled between Jack and the Hughes brothers, the fireflies flickering in the darkness like stars that had descended to earth. The conversations flowed freely, the laughter echoing through the quiet neighborhood streets, and it was as if the years had never come between you. You watched Jack with a soft smile, his eyes alight with the joy of being home, with being surrounded by those who had known him before the NHL, before the glitz and the glamour. It was a gentle reminder of the boy he had been, the friend who had held your hand through the storms of adolescence.

The visit was a balm to your soul, a chance to recharge and remember the roots of your friendship. As the weekend drew to a close, you felt a pang of sadness, but also a renewed sense of purpose. Life had led you back to each other, and as you held Jack's hand and said your goodbyes, you knew that no matter how much the seasons of life changed, the core of your bond would remain unshaken. With a promise to visit more often, you climbed into the car, ready to face the future together, hand in hand. The road ahead was long, but with the warmth of Jack's love and the comfort of your shared past, you had no doubt that you would conquer every challenge with grace and emerge even stronger, ready to face whatever the universe had in store.

Jack had planned the perfect adventure for the both of you and the Hughes family. He had picked a serene spot, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of the Michigan wilderness. As you all piled into the car, the anticipation grew with every mile that passed. The destination was a secret, known only to him, and the excitement of the unknown thrummed through the air. When you finally arrived, you found yourselves in a clearing surrounded by towering pines and a tranquil lake that shimmered under the warm embrace of the setting sun. The serenity of the place was almost tangible, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves whispering secrets to the wind.

As the family set up camp, Jack took you aside, his hand firm and warm in yours. He led you to a secluded spot at the water's edge, a small dock that jutted out into the lake. The wooden planks creaked gently underfoot as you made your way to the end, the water lapping gently against the posts. He turned to face you, his eyes shining with a love that seemed to have grown with every shared moment. "This place," he began, his voice low and earnest, "has always been special to me. It's where I came to think, to dream, and to escape." He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what he was about to say. "And it's here, where I want to tell you that I've been in love with you since the day you moved in next door."

The words hung in the air, a confession that seemed to resonate with every fiber of your being. You searched his eyes, the depth of his feelings reflected in the pools of emotion that had gathered there. He dropped to one knee, pulling out a small velvet box, and your heart skipped a beat. "I know we've been through a lot," he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "but I can't imagine a future without you. You're the one I want to share every victory with, every heartache, every moment of joy." He opened the box to reveal a ring that sparkled like the stars you had wished upon so many times together. "Will you marry me?"

The world seemed to stop as you stared down at the ring, the sunset casting a warm glow on everything around you. You felt the tears well up in your eyes, the weight of his love too much to bear. "Jack," you managed to whisper, your voice thick with emotion, "I love you more than words can say." You nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Yes," you breathed, "yes, I'll marry you."

He slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal feeling like it was sealing a promise that had been in the making for a lifetime. He stood up and took you in his arms, the kiss that followed a declaration of forever. As you wrapped your arms around him, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, the lake, and the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.

The proposal had been a perfect culmination of your journey, a testament to the love that had grown between you despite the distance and the years apart. The rest of the night was a blur of excitement and joy as you shared the news with Quinn and Luke, their faces lighting up with happiness for the two of you. The fire crackled in the campfire, casting a warm glow on the faces of your loved ones as you reveled in the warmth of their congratulations. The stars above twinkled down on you, as if in approval of Jack's heartfelt declaration.

In the quiet moments, you found yourself lost in thought, the reality of your engagement sinking in. You had come so far from the days of playing street hockey and sharing secrets under the old oak tree. Now, as you gazed into the flames, Jack's hand in yours, you knew that the adventure ahead would be the most exciting one yet—the adventure of building a life together, forever entwined by love and friendship. And as the night grew late, and the laughter of your friends and future in-laws grew softer, you curled up beside Jack, feeling the warmth of his love and the weight of the ring on your finger. You closed your eyes, your heart full to bursting, and whispered a silent thank you to the universe for bringing you back to the place you truly belonged—in Jack's arms, ready to face whatever the future had in store.

[jackethockey]

adam photos you haven’t seen cause i took them

[jackethockey]

Two Ghosts

Summary: The plot of the story revolves around you, moving to Anaheim after a painful breakup with your high school sweetheart, Trevor Zegras, who is now playing in the NHL. You take a risky offer and go to college in California. You start college and begin to heal, eventually finding a new love interest, Jamie Drysdale. After a date, you attend one of Jamie's hockey practices and discover that Trevor is also playing for the same team. The tension is high as you realize that Jamie is unaware of your history with Trevor. However, when the situation is revealed, Jamie surprises everyone by suggesting a threesome, which you both tentatively agree to explore. The story details the growth of this love triangle, filled with passionate encounters and the challenges of keeping your relationship hidden from the public eye. The narrative culminates in a season-ending victory, where the tension of maintaining your secret is as intense as the game itself, leaving the future of your polyamorous relationship uncertain yet full of potential.

Warnings: smut (very heavy and detailed lol),explicate language, threesome, not proofread enough because I was drunk while I wrote this so I apologize in advance :) 

Word Count: 5,643

“We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me.”

The sun was setting over the quiet town of Bedford, casting a warm glow over the ice rink where you had spent so many evenings watching Trevor Zegras, your high school sweetheart, glide effortlessly across the frozen surface. Little did you know that your lives would soon take a drastic turn. One fateful night, as you sat in the stands, your hearts racing from a particularly intense game, Trevor broke the news that would change everything: he had been drafted to the NHL by the Anaheim Ducks. A whirlwind of emotions swept through you - pride, excitement, and fear all wrapped into one. you had always talked about the possibility of his career taking him far from home, but now that it was a reality, the prospect of losing him was more than you could bear.

As the weeks passed, you tried to navigate the choppy waters of your new long-distance relationship, but the strain of his demanding schedule and your own college applications weighed heavily on us. Cracks began to form, and before you knew it, you were standing in the cold parking lot, arguing about the future. Words were exchanged, hearts were broken, and suddenly, you were nothing but a memory of love lost. The town that had once felt so alive with your shared passion for hockey now echoed with the silence of your separation.

Months later, as the sting of your breakup began to fade, you received a letter from the University of California, Irvine. An acceptance to their prestigious sports journalism program had arrived, offering you an escape from the painful reminders that lurked around every corner. With a trembling hand, you held the envelope that represented a chance at a new start in a city where the sun always shone - a stark contrast to the cold winters that had held us together for so long. Anaheim, the very place where Trevor's career was about to take flight, was now beckoning you with the promise of your own. With a heavy heart, you made the decision to take the risk and move across the country, not knowing that your paths would cross again in the most unexpected way.

Once in Anaheim, you settled into your new life, your dorm room a stark contrast to the cozy home I'd left behind. your roommate, a bubbly blonde named Maddy, suggested one night that you try Tinder to get back into the dating scene. Skeptical but desperate for companionship, you swiped through profiles, hoping to find someone to ease the ache of loneliness. That's when you found him: Jamie Drysdale, a local with piercing blue eyes and a charming smile that seemed to leap off the screen. you hit it off immediately, your messages a flirty dance of wit and banter. When he suggested a date at a hip downtown sushyouspot, you couldn't resist. The chemistry was palpable as you sat across from each other, sharing laughs and sneaking glances at your phones to send sly messages under the table. The evening ended with a kiss that sent your heart racing, and an invitation back to his place that you eagerly accepted. 

Back at Jamie's apartment, the air was thick with anticipation as you stumbled through the door, your lips never breaking contact. His hand found your pussy, gently caressing your clit through your damp panties as you kissed. your breath hitched, and you pulled away, your eyes wide with excitement. He led you to his bed, and you shed our clothes, revealing you desire for each other. His cock was hard and ready, standing tall and proud as he knelt before you. you watched as he took it in his hand, stroking it gently as you lay back, your legs parted in invitation. He kissed you again, his mouth moving down your neck to your chest, his tongue teasing your nipples before he made his way to your eager pussy. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he kissed and licked your sensitive skin. your hips bucked up to meet his mouth, his tongue circling your clit with expert precision. you moaned, your hand finding its way into his hair as you guided him deeper into your folds. His fingers slid inside you, exploring your depths as your body responded with a rush of wetness.

"Oh, Jamie," you gasped as he brought you closer to the brink of orgasm.

He looked up, his eyes filled with lust. "You taste so sweet," he murmured before returning to his task with renewed enthusiasm. your body tensed as the sensation built, your clit pulsing under his skilled touch. With one final flick of his tongue, you came apart, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you cried out his name. The room spun with pleasure, your toes curling into the bedsheets.

As your breathing slowed, he positioned himself over you, his cock poised at your entrance. you reached down, guiding him into you, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you completely. you moved together, you bodies speaking a language of passion and need. His strokes grew deeper, harder, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as your rhythm grew frantic. You could feel him thickening inside you, his breathing ragged and hot in your ear.

"I'm going to cum," he grunted, his voice strained with effort.

"Me too," you whispered, your nails digging into his back as your own orgasm approached.

With one final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot cum flooding your pussy as you reached your peak. your bodies shuddered in unison, lost in the throes of ecstasy. After a moment, you collapsed onto the bed, your hearts pounding in time with each other. This was just the beginning of a wild, unexpected journey that would forever change the course of your lives.

The next day, basking in the afterglow of your passionate night, Jamie suggested you join him at his hockey practice, his enthusiasm for the sport was contagious. Little did you know, fate had a cruel twist in store for you. As you walked into the bustling rink, you froze. There he was, in all his glory, skating with the same team that had once been the backdrop of your life with Trevor - your ex. your heart sank as you realized the awkwardness of the situation, but Jamie seemed oblivious, his excitement for the game overshadowing any tension that may have lurked beneath the surface. As you watched him skate, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he interacted with the players, his ease and camaraderie with them a stark reminder of the world I'd left behind. And there, skating towards us with a grin, was Trevor, unaware of the intimate connection you'd just formed. The air grew thick with tension as you locked eyes, and for a brief moment, it felt as if time had rewound to the night of your breakup, the same rink on the stage for a dramatically different scene.

As Trevor approached, his smile faded, and his eyes widened in surprise when he recognized you standing next to Jamie. The realization of the situation dawned on him, and he skated to a halt, his stick clattering to the ice. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and accusation. "This is Jamie's practice," you said, trying to sound casual, though your heart was racing. "Oh, you see," he said, his gaze flicking between us, the tension palpable. "You didn't know you two knew each other," Jamie said, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he tried to piece together the puzzle. "We, uh, we used to date," you admitted, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Trevor's jaw tightened, and he looked away, the hurt from your past now a stark reality in the cold light of day. "Well, this is..." Jamie trailed off, at a loss for words. "Awkward," you supplied, your voice small. Trevor's eyes met your, and for a moment, it was as if you were the only two people in the world. Then, without warning, a mischievous smile spread across Jamie's face. "Why not make it interesting?" he suggested his voice low and filled with a seductive challenge. "What do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. "Why don't you all go out for drinks tonight?" he said, his gaze flicking between Trevor and you. "It'll be like old times," he added, winking at you. Trevor's eyes narrowed, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. He knew Jamie's reputation for pushing boundaries, and you could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air: was this an invitation to mend fences or something far more scandalous?

Intrigued by the prospect of an unexpected reunion and the hint of something more, you all agreed to Jamie's proposal, the anticipation of the evening ahead making your heart flutter with a mix of excitement and trepidation. That night, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, sipping your drinks, the tension between you and Trevor was undeniable. your eyes met across the table, a silent conversation playing out, filled with the unspoken words of your past love and the unexplored desires of the present. It was Jamie who broke the silence, his voice smooth as velvet as he leaned in closer, a glint in his eye. "You know, I've always been a fan of sharing the things you love," he said, his hand casually brushing against your thigh. Trevor's gaze snapped to Jamie, a hint of understanding dawning in his expression. "What are you saying?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. "Well," Jamie began, a wicked smile playing on his lips, "you were thinking that maybe we could all... make up for lost time." The room seemed to hold its breath as his words sank in, your cheeks growing hot as you processed his suggestion. Trevor's eyes never left your, and you could see the war raging within him: loyalty to his friend or the temptation of a rekindled passion. Before either of us could respond, Jamie leaned in further, whispering, "Why choose when you can all have a little fun?" His hand slid further up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the edge of your panties, and you realized with a start that his idea was not just a fleeting thought, but a genuine proposal. The air grew thick with the scent of possibility, and as you felt the warmth of both their gazes on you, you found yourself entertaining a scenario that would have been unthinkable just hours before. The chemistry between the three of us was undeniable, and as you finished your drinks, the heat in the room seemed to rise, hinting at the explosive passion that could unfold if you dared to embrace Jamie's daring plan.

With your hearts pounding in sync with your steps, you made your way back to Jamie's apartment, the anticipation of what was to come thickening the air between us. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the tension snapped like a tightly pulled rubber band. Trevor's eyes searched your, a silent question lingering. you nodded, your breath hitching, and Jamie's hand was on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across Jamie's bare chest as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving your. Trevor followed, the muscles in his jaw tight as he struggled with his own internal battle. The room grew warmer, your breaths mingling as you stood at the edge of a precipice, ready to dive into the unknown.

Jamie's hand found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down slowly, revealing your naked body to both of them. your nipples were hard buds, sensitive to the cool air and the heat of their stares. Trevor's eyes swept over you, a mix of hunger and hesitation, and you felt a thrill shoot through you as you saw his cock thicken in his pants. you stepped out of the dress, letting it pool at your feet, and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and watching as the two men approached, their desire for you and each other a tangible force.

Jamie was the first to make his move, kneeling before you and sliding your panties off with a gentle tug. His mouth found your pussy, his tongue tracing a path along your slit, making your legs shake. you leaned back, your eyes locked on Trevor as he slowly stripped out of his clothes, revealing his rock-hard cock. The sight of him, standing before you, was almost too much to handle. your hand reached out, wrapping around his length, feeling the heat and power of him in your grip.

As Jamie's tongue danced around your clit, you stroked Trevor's cock, the velvet softness of his skin a stark contrast to the steel beneath. His hand covered your, guiding it, showing you how he liked it. your eyes met, and in that moment, the past was forgotten. you were no longer just two ex-lovers reunited; you were three individuals about to embark on a sexual odyssey that would shatter the boundaries of friendship and love.

Trevor's hand reached for your chest, his thumb grazing your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. you gasped, your pussy growing wetter under Jamie's ministrations. The sound of his mouth on you, the feel of Trevor's hand on your breast, and the weight of their gazes upon your body sent you spiraling into a vortex of sensation. And just as you thought you couldn't handle anymore, Trevor leaned in and kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips and claiming you once again. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of whiskey and lust.

The three of us fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and desire. Hands roamed, exploring every inch of skin, rekindling old fires and sparking new ones. you straddled Jamie, his cock sliding into you with ease, as Trevor kissed down your back, his hand reaching around to tease your clit. Their bodies moved in harmony, each touch and kiss sending waves of pleasure through you. You leaned back, arching your spine as Trevor's mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

your bodies moved in a slow, erotic dance, each thrust of Jamie's cock sending you closer to the edge. Trevor's hand found its way to your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, sending sparks of sensation straight to your clit. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the slick noises of skin against skin.

With a graceful shift, you slid off Jamie and onto Trevor, his cock already hard and waiting for you. His eyes burned into your as you lowered yourself onto him, feeling the familiar yet thrilling sensation of his length filling you up. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as you began to move, your bodies relearning the rhythm that had once been so natural. The sight of Jamie watching us, his cock still erect, only added to the intensity of the moment. The air was thick with lust as you rocked together, the mattress creaking beneath us. you leaned back, your breasts bouncing as you rode Trevor, his eyes never leaving your. The connection between us was just as strong as it had ever been, the years apart seemingly evaporating in the heat of your passion.

Jamie, not one to be left out, moved in closer, his hand sliding between your legs to caress your clit as you rode Trevor. The dual sensations of their touch sent you spiraling, your pussy clenching around Trevor's cock as you grew closer to the brink of release. Trevor's hands roamed your body, his fingers digging into your flesh as he matched your tempo, driving himself deeper inside you. The room was a symphony of gasps and moans, the scent of your arousal mingling with the faint smell of sweat and cologne.

As your climax grew closer, you reached out to Jamie, your hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking him in time with your movements. His eyes rolled back, his hips jerking as he watched you take pleasure from his best friend. The situation was surreal, a mix of the past and present, love and lust intertwined in a way I'd never imagined. Yet, at that moment, it felt so incredibly right, like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

The tension grew, your bodies moving in a frenzied dance of desire. Trevor's grip tightened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his own peak. you could feel his cock pulsing within you, and the knowledge that he was close pushed you over the edge. you came with a scream, your pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Trevor followed, his hot cum filling you up, mixing with the slickness of your combined arousal.

Jamie watched us, his hand still moving on his shaft, his expression a mix of fascination and arousal. He stepped closer, and without a word, you took his cock into your mouth, eager to taste him as well. His eyes never left your as you sucked him off, feeling the tension build until he too came, his warm cum spurting onto your tongue.

As you lay there, tangled in the sweat-drenched sheets, the silence was filled with a new kind of intimacy. The air was electric with the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, and the realization of what you'd just done sent a shiver down your spine. Trevor's arms wrapped around you, his warmth a comforting embrace, while Jamie's hand rested on your thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles. The tension between us had shifted, no longer awkward but charged with a newfound respect and curiosity. you all knew that you'd crossed a line, but the question remained: was this a one-time thing or the start of something more? As your breathing slowed and the room grew quiet, you looked into the eyes of both men, seeing the reflection of your own excitement and wonder. The night had brought us together in a way that no words could ever have, and as you drifted off to sleep, your mind raced with thoughts of the adventures you could share, the pleasures you could discover, and the love you could build, unconstrained by the boundaries of convention. your bodies, once divided by anger and hurt, now united in a shared passion, hinted at a future that was both thrilling and terrifying. But as your eyes fluttered closed, you knew that you were ready to face whatever came next with these two men by your side, your heart open to the possibilities that awaited us in the uncharted territory of your newfound love triangle.

In the days that followed, the three of us danced around the new dynamic that had formed. you tried to navigate the uncharted waters of your love triangle with care, not wanting to rock the boat too much. But the pull between us was magnetic, and the chemistry was undeniable. you found ourselves slipping into a rhythm of shared intimate moments, each encounter more explosive than the last. you experimented with new positions and sensations, pushing your boundaries and discovering what truly made each other tick. The bond between Jamie and Trevor grew stronger, their friendship now laced with a newfound respect and understanding, as they shared the pleasure of your body. And in turn, your heart swelled with love for them both, as you saw the camaraderie and care that existed beyond the physical. It was a delicate balance, but as you grew more comfortable, the lines between friendship and love began to blur. you laughed together, you supported each other through the highs and lows of life, and you made love with a passion that seemed to defy all logic. Yet, it was a passion that fueled us, that made us feel alive in a way you had never felt before.

The whispers of doubt and the glares from the outside world couldn't dull the spark that had ignited between us. you knew you had something special, something that not everyone would understand. But you didn't need the world's approval; you had each other, and that was enough. your thirst for adventure grew, and you found yourselves planning more nights of passionate exploration, each one more intense and intimate than the last. your love was a secret garden, blooming in the shadows of a world that didn't quite know what to make of us. But in that garden, you were free to be yourselves, to love without limits, and to cherish the moments that you had together. And as the sun set on another day in Anaheim, you lay tangled in each other's arms, knowing that the night would bring us closer, that your love was a force to be reckoned with, and that together, you could conquer anything.

The days grew shorter and the nights longer as you fell into a routine of stolen glances and secret touches, your desire for each other a constant hum beneath the surface of your everyday lives. Practices at the rink grew tense, the unspoken tension between Trevor and Jamie a thrumming undercurrent that only seemed to heighten the excitement when you were alone together. The line between the ice and the bedroom blurred as you pushed the boundaries of your relationship, each practice a silent challenge to see how far you could take things without giving yourself away. your bodies had become a canvas for your desires, each stroke of the brush - or in this case, each caress and kiss - adding another layer to the masterpiece of passion you were painting together. And as the season approached, the anticipation of your next intimate encounter grew more intense, the promise of it hanging in the air like an electrifying storm just waiting to break. The rink had become not just a place of competition but a stage for your own private games, a place where you could let your love run wild and free, unshackled by the constraints of the world outside. And as the first puck dropped on opening night, you knew that the real game was just beginning.

The first few games of the season passed in a blur of excitement and nerves, your secret weighing heavily on us as you watched each other from the sidelines. The tension grew with every stolen glance, every brush of skin, until one night, the dam burst. After a particularly grueling practice, the three of us found yourselves back in Jamie's apartment, the air thick with desire. you didn't bother with the pretense of conversation, your bodies moving together in a silent symphony of need. Trevor took you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust deep into your pussy, filling you up with his hard, thick cock. Meanwhile, Jamie's mouth found your clit, his tongue flicking and teasing as you moaned with every stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. And just as you were about to peak, you felt the warmth of Jamie's cock against your ass, the pressure building until he too entered you, filling you completely. The feeling of having them both inside you was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent you hurtling over the edge. you moved as one, your bodies syncing in a dance of love and lust. Your cries filled the room, echoing off the walls, a testament to the depth of your connection. As you lay in a pile of tangled limbs, your breathing ragged and hearts pounding in unison, you knew that there was no going back. your love had grown into something more, something that could not be contained, and you were ready to face the world together, come what may.

The heat in the room was almost unbearable as you continued to explore each other's bodies with a fervor that seemed to grow with each passing moment. Trevor's cock slammed into you from behind, the force of his thrusts making you moan with each stroke. Your pussy was tight around him, the pleasure of having him inside you mingling with the delicious pressure of Jamie's cock in your ass. The feeling of being so completely filled was like nothing you had ever experienced before, a sensation that was both overwhelming and incredibly satisfying. The head of Jamie's cock found your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every movement. You could feel the tension in both of them, their muscles taut with the effort of holding back their climaxes for as long as they could. Trevor's hand reached around to cup your breasts, his thumbs playing with your hardened nipples, sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. You were lost in the sensation, your body moving of its own accord, eager for more.

Jamie's hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit, which was already swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention. He began to rub it in tight, fast circles, and you could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building deep within yourself. Your moans grew louder, your body tensing as the pressure grew and grew. Then, without warning, Trevor reached around and pinched your nipples, sending you spiraling over the edge. The orgasm ripped through you, your pussy clenching around him as you screamed out their names. They didn't stop, though, their movements growing more urgent, their hips slapping against your skin. You could feel them both getting closer, their breathing ragged in your ears. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, Trevor came, his hot cum spilling into you as Jamie's cock swelled inside your ass, his own orgasm following close behind. You all collapsed onto the bed, your bodies drenched in sweat and cum, the aftershocks of your shared pleasure still rippling through you.

Our hearts were racing, our breathing heavy, as you lay there, the reality of what you had just done settling over us like a warm blanket. you had crossed a line, and entered a realm of passion that was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you felt their warmth surrounding you, their love for you palpable in the sticky mess you had created, you knew that you had found something special, something that was uniquely ours. And as you all lay there, our limbs entwined, the world outside fading away, you couldn't help but wonder what other boundaries you would push together, what other heights our love would reach in the coming months.

The days grew shorter and the nights longer as you fell into a routine of stolen glances and secret touches, your desire for each other a constant hum beneath the surface of our everyday lives. Practices at the rink grew tense, the unspoken tension between Trevor and Jamie a thrumming undercurrent that only seemed to heighten the excitement when you were alone together. Your bodies had become a canvas for your desires, each stroke of the brush—or in this case, each caress and kiss—adding another layer to the masterpiece of passion you were painting together. You were a tight-knit trio, your love a force that could not be contained by the boundaries of societal norms. And as the season progressed, you grew bolder in your pursuit of pleasure, pushing the limits of your friendship and love to new heights. The rink had become not just a place of competition, but a sanctuary where you could be free from the judgmental eyes of the outside world, a place where your love could truly come alive. And as the final buzzer of the season rang out, signaling the end of the games and the beginning of your new reality, you knew that your journey was far from over. The real test would be navigating the choppy waters of a polyamorous relationship under the scrutiny of the public eye, but you were ready to face the storm, united in your love and commitment to each other. With our hearts open and our bodies yearning for more, you stepped into the future, ready to conquer the challenges that awaited us as you embraced your love without limits.

The whispers and glances grew more frequent as the season progressed, your love triangle becoming the talk of the town. You had to be careful, hiding your true relationship behind the guise of friendship, but the electricity between you was palpable. After a particularly intense game, you found yourself back in the locker room, the adrenaline of the victory still pumping through your veins. Your eyes met, and the desire was unmistakable. Trevor leaned against the cold metal lockers, his sweat-soaked jersey clinging to his muscular chest, and beckoned you closer with a crooked smile. Your heart raced as you approached, your eyes dropping to the bulge in his pants that told you he was just as turned on as you were. Without a word, you dropped to your knees, your hands reaching out to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot in the tense silence, echoing through the locker room. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, and you took it in your mouth, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Meanwhile, Jamie stepped closer, his own cock in hand, stroking it gently as he watched the scene unfold. He leaned in, whispering filthy words in Trevor's ear, and suddenly, the three of you were lost in a frenzy of passion. Trevor's hands found Jamie's ass, pulling him closer until their cocks were side by side in your mouth. The taste of their precum was intoxicating, and you knew that this was just the beginning of your love story, one that would be written in the sweat and passion of the very rink that had brought you together.

The months flew by, and your secret love affair grew stronger with each passing day. You managed to keep your relationship hidden from the prying eyes of the media, but the tension was always there, simmering just beneath the surface. Your nights were filled with passionate encounters, your bodies moving in a symphony of desire and need. The lines between friendship and love had blurred so completely that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. You had become a well-oiled machine, each of you knowing exactly what the other needed, what made them moan and arch their backs in pleasure. Your bond was unbreakable, a force of nature that no one could deny.

And so, as the season drew to a close and the playoffs approached, you knew that your time together would become even more precious. The pressure mounted, not just from the games but from the fear of our secret being exposed. Yet, you remained steadfast, supporting each other through the grueling schedule and the ever-present whispers that seemed to follow us wherever you went. In the quiet moments between the roar of the crowds and the clanging of the locker room, you found solace in your love, your bodies tangled together in a desperate bid for connection. You were three souls bound by a love that was as fierce as it was forbidden, and you were determined to make it work, no matter the cost.

The final game of the season was a nail-biter, the tension in the arena so thick you could cut it with a knife. As the clock ticked down, and the Ducks emerged victorious, you couldn't help but exchange knowing glances. The celebrations were bittersweet, a reminder of the world you had to keep hidden. But as you made your way back to the locker room, the weight of your victory washed over you, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourselves to bask in the glow of your triumph. It was there, amidst the stink of sweat and the sound of clanking gear, that you found yourselves once again, your bodies craving the release that only you could provide each other. Trevor's cock was rock-hard, straining against his jock, and Jamie's eyes were dark with desire as they met yours. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have this - a love that transcended the boundaries of the rink and the expectations of the world outside.

[jackethockey]

Whole lotta love

Summary: Matthew Knies, a burly forward for the Toronto Maple Leafs, finds himself irresistibly drawn to a mysterious woman at a bar, only to discover she's none other than the sister of his team's legendary captain, Auston Matthews. The two embark on a passionate, secret affair that intensifies with every stolen moment. When the truth comes out, the locker room's dynamics are shaken, and the brothers-in-law face a tense standoff. However, as their love grows stronger with each challenge, the team begins to accept their relationship, and the couple's bond becomes an unshakeable force, redefining what it means to be a family both on and off the ice.

Warnings: heavy smut, fighting, explicit language, detailed sex, kissing, stripping, oral (f! receiving) p in v, wrap it before you tap it!

Word count: 5,466

You've been cooling, baby, I've been drooling. All the good times baby, I've been misusing. Way, way down inside, I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you every inch of my love.

Matthew Knies, the burly, charismatic forward for the Toronto Maple Leafs, strutted into the bustling bar, a fresh victory against the Boston Bruins still resonating through his bones. The atmosphere was electric, a heady mix of sweat, beer, and the sweet scent of victory. His teammates roared with laughter, recounting the night's triumphs, the echo of their boisterous voices bouncing off the wooden walls. Matthew's piercing blue eyes scanned the room, looking for something—or someone—to celebrate with. That's when he saw you, a vision in blue and white, your eyes sparkling like the ice under the stadium lights. You were leaning against the bar, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you sipped a whiskey, your long legs crossed in a way that made his heart race. He hadn't noticed you at the game, but here you were, a tantalizing mystery amidst the sea of fans.

As he approached, your gaze met his, and the air between you crackled with an undeniable chemistry. "You're not a typical Leafs groupie," he quipped, his voice deep and gravelly.

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what I look like to you?"

"No," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur, "you look like the kind of woman who could handle a man like me."

The conversation flowed as freely as the alcohol, each of you peeling back layers of the other's personality like the layers of an onion, revealing something raw and real. The attraction was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist. Before the night grew any later, Matthew leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, and whispered,

 "How about we take this celebration somewhere more... private?"

With a nod, you grabbed your jacket and followed him out into the crisp, cool air. The city was alive with the echoes of the game, the distant cheers of fans still celebrating. But all you could focus on was the heat of Matthew's hand on the small of your back as he guided you to his penthouse suite, a place that screamed success and masculinity with every step.

Once the door closed behind you, the tension in the air thickened. He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you knew what was about to happen. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his mouth crushing down on yours in a kiss that was as fiery as the passion that burned between you. You melted into him, his strong arms holding you tight as your tongues danced together, a prelude to the passionate symphony that awaited in the bedroom.

Matthew's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your curves with a hunger that was almost feral. You felt his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against your thigh. Your hand slipped down to grasp him, feeling the heat and size of him through his pants. You gasped into his mouth as he broke the kiss, panting with need.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"More than you know," you breathed, your voice husky with desire.

And with that, he swept you off your feet and carried you into the bedroom, the promise of a night of unbridled passion hanging in the air like mist before a storm.

Matthew's penthouse was a testament to his success, with sleek, modern furnishings and a king-sized bed that looked like it was made for sin. He laid you down on it, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to strip away your clothing, revealing your body to him piece by piece. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him, his muscular frame moving with a grace that belied his size. He kissed you again, his mouth moving from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of heat and desire in its wake.

His hands found your breasts, tweaking your nipples until they were tight buds of pleasure. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he worked his way down your body, leaving kisses and gentle nips along the way. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he slid your panties to the side and touched your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

The sensation was exquisite, a jolt of electricity that had you bucking against him. His eyes remained locked on yours, a silent question in their depths. You nodded, unable to form words, and he plunged his tongue into your pussy, licking and sucking until you were a writhing mess of pleasure beneath him. Your fingers curled into the sheets as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building like a crescendo. And when it finally hit, it was like nothing you'd ever felt before, a wave of ecstasy that crashed over you and left you gasping for air.

As you lay there, panting and trembling, Matthew looked up at you with a smug smile, his face glistening with your arousal. Without wasting a beat, he stood and stripped out of his own clothes, revealing his rock-hard cock that bobbed with excitement. Your eyes widened with anticipation as he climbed back onto the bed, his muscular body hovering over you. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and rolled it on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours. "You ready for this?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

"More than ready," you murmured, your voice whimpering.

With one powerful thrust, Matthew entered you, filling you up completely. You cried out, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He began to move, his hips pistoning in and out with a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, and you could feel his dick hitting all the right spots, making you clench around him. He took your nipple into his mouth, biting down gently as his hand found its way between your legs, his thumb circling your clit. The combination of sensations had you spiraling towards the edge again, your pussy tightening around his cock like a vice.

Matthew's breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming more erratic. You could feel the tension building in his body, and you knew he was close. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on. "Cum for me," you panted, your voice a desperate plea.

And with a roar, he did just that, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled the condom. He collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving, his heart beating a wild tattoo against yours. For a moment, you just lay there, lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. And then, reality began to seep back in, and you realized that this was just the beginning of something intense and unforgettable.

As the haze of pleasure slowly lifted, Matthew's weight shifted off you, and he discarded the condom before pulling you into his arms. Your bodies, slick with sweat, stuck together in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. His heartbeat thundered in your ear, a rhythmic reminder of the intimate connection you'd just shared. You snuggled closer, feeling a warmth and comfort that was as surprising as it was welcome.

As the night grew darker, your whispers grew softer, sharing secrets and stories that painted a picture of who you were outside the walls of this penthouse. Matthew listened intently, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your bare hip. You felt a strange sense of vulnerability, laying bare your soul to this man whose body you'd just explored so intimately. But with each shared word, a bond grew, a bond that was as real as the tangible connection between your bodies. His hand found its way up to your face, cupping your cheek as he leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was a moment of tenderness that took you by surprise, a stark contrast to the raw passion that had consumed you only moments ago. 

"Stay," he murmured against your lips, and you found yourself nodding, not ready for the night to end.

You curled up against him, your legs intertwined as he pulled the covers over you both. His strong arms wrapped around you, cradling you in a way that made you feel cherished. The steady beat of his heart lulled you into a peaceful slumber, your mind swirling with thoughts of what the morning would bring. Little did either of you know, this night of passion would be the start of a whirlwind romance that would shake the foundations of not just your personal lives, but the very fabric of the Toronto Maple Leafs' locker room dynamics. But for now, all that mattered was the warmth of each other's embrace, the promise of more to come, and the sweet oblivion of sleep.

The next morning dawned with the light peeking through the blinds, casting a soft glow on your tangled limbs. Matthew stirred, his eyes opening to find you still nestled in his arms. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, your hair a wild mess and your cheeks flushed from sleep. He kissed you gently, savoring the taste of you still lingering on his lips. You blinked awake, your eyes meeting his. Matthew's eyes searched yours, his mind racing back to the whispers and rumors he'd heard in the locker room, the subtle resemblance in your laugh, the way you held yourself with the same poise and confidence that defined your brother, Auston Matthews, the hockey legend. He'd seen the family photos in the media, the shared features that hinted at your kinship. And when you spoke of growing up around the rink, the stories of a protective older brother who'd pushed you to skate faster and shoot harder, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The realization that you were indeed Auston's sister had hit him like a slapshot to the chest the moment he'd found out, but now, in the tender light of morning, all he felt was a profound connection that transcended the boundaries of friendship and team loyalty. 

"You're not just any woman," he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and trepidation. "You're Auston Matthews' sister." 

He watched the understanding dawn in your eyes, a silent confession of the truth he'd suspected all along. But instead of retreating, you leaned in, your breath warm against his skin, and the intensity of the situation only served to deepen the bond that had grown between you during the night of unbridled passion. Matthew knew that the path ahead was fraught with potential complications, but as he kissed you again, he couldn't help but feel that destiny had placed you in his arms for a reason.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of stolen glances and secret touches, every encounter between you and Matthew charged with an intensity that could melt the ice rink. Whenever you weren't together, your thoughts drifted to the feeling of his rough hands on your body, his teeth grazing your neck, and the sound of his growls as you brought each other to the brink of ecstasy. It was a thrill that neither of you could resist, and yet, the secret weighed heavy on your hearts. The looming shadow of Auston's reaction loomed in the background, a constant reminder that this passion could come at a cost. But as the days turned into weeks, the chemistry between you grew too potent to contain, and the inevitable finally happened—Matthew saw you at a game, your face lighting up as you cheered for your brother's team. The shock in his eyes was palpable, but it quickly morphed into a fiery possessiveness that sent a thrill down your spine. He knew the risks, but he also knew that the connection you shared was too strong to ignore. And when the game ended in another victory for the Leafs, the electricity that crackled in the air was about more than just the scoreboard—it was about the unspoken understanding that you were now bound together by something more than just a one-night stand.

As the final buzzer rang out, signaling the Leafs' victory, Matthew couldn't help but scan the stands, his eyes searching for the familiar sparkle of your blue and white jersey. There you were, standing up, your hands clapping as you cheered for your brother's team. His heart raced, knowing that the moment of truth was upon them. After the game, he made his way to the locker room, his nerves on edge. He saw Auston, the team captain, surrounded by a crowd of reporters, his face a mask of triumph. Matthew took a deep breath and approached, his eyes locked on yours over the sea of bodies. The moment Auston spotted you, his expression shifted from elation to confusion, and then, as his gaze fell upon Matthew, to something much darker. The tension was palpable as the reporters dispersed and the locker room grew quieter. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Auston's voice was low, a clear warning.

 You stepped forward, a blush staining your cheeks, and announced with a hint of pride,

 "I'm with Matthew." 

The words hung in the air, and for a beat, there was silence. Then, the locker room door slammed shut, and the reality of your relationship was out in the open, ready to ignite a storm of emotion and drama that neither of you could have predicted.

Auston's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching as he took a step towards Matthew, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

"How could you?" 

The words were a knife through the air, slicing through the jovial atmosphere of the locker room like a hot blade through butter. Players and staff members alike stopped in their tracks, the sudden tension palpable.

"Auston, wait—" Matthew began, but it was too late.

 The team captain's rage was a force of nature, and nothing could stand in its way. Before he could get another word out, you found yourself being pushed behind a wall of teammates, their arms outstretched to keep the two men apart.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Auston roared, his body shaking with the effort to restrain himself. The room was a blur of confused faces and concerned whispers as the reality of your relationship hit him like a slap in the face.

Matthew's own temper flared, but he knew better than to let it show. Instead, he held up his hands in a placating gesture, his jaw tight with frustration.

 "It's not like that," he insisted, but the words fell on deaf ears.

"It's exactly like that," Auston spat back, his eyes blazing with anger. "You're one of my teammates, and you're fucking my sister!"

The chaos grew, the air thick with testosterone and unspoken accusations. Coaches and other players jumped in, trying to calm the situation, but it was clear that the bond of brotherhood had been stretched to its breaking point.

With a heavy heart, you realized that the only way to diffuse the situation was to leave. You slipped out from behind the barricade of bodies, grabbing Matthew's hand and pulling him towards the door. 

"Let's go," you murmured, your voice shaking.

Together, you stepped into the hallway, the slamming of the locker room door echoing behind you like a gunshot. You leaned against the cool wall, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

 "I'm sorry," Matthew said, his eyes filled with regret. "I never meant for it to go down like this."

You looked up at Matthew, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 

"It's not your fault," you whispered, trying to reassure him. "We knew this would happen eventually. We just have to figure out what to do now." 

His hand tightened around yours, a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere.

 "We'll tell him the truth," he said firmly. "How much we care about each other, how good we are together." 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. As much as you feared Auston's wrath, you knew that hiding in the shadows wasn't the answer. It was time to face the music and hope that the love and passion you shared with Matthew was strong enough to conquer the storm that was brewing. With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and looked into Matthew's eyes, drawing strength from the intensity of his gaze.

 "Let's go talk to him," you said, your voice steady despite the quaking of your insides. "We'll face this together." And with that, you marched back into the lion's den, ready to fight for your happiness against all odds.

As you both stepped back into the locker room, the tension was thick enough to cut with a skate. The teammates who had been trying to keep the peace stepped aside, giving you and Matthew the space to confront Auston. The captain's eyes bore into you, a tumult of emotions playing across his face—fury, shock, and something akin to betrayal. But before either of you could speak, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you to stand there, the weight of his absence like a leaden blanket.

Matthew's jaw clenched, his muscles coiled with the need to follow and explain, to fight for what you had together. But you knew that pushing the issue now would only make things worse. So, with a heavy heart, you turned to him and whispered, 

"Let's give him some space." The nod he gave was tight, but he understood.

Over the next few days, the air between you and Auston remained charged with unspoken words and accusations. The team felt the strain, their captain's mood casting a pall over their camaraderie. You and Matthew had to sneak around, stealing moments together when you could, the secret of your relationship becoming a burden that grew heavier with each passing hour.

One evening, as the team was preparing to leave for a road trip, Auston cornered Matthew in the hallway outside the locker room.

 "We need to talk," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo through the empty corridor.

Matthew took a deep breath and nodded, bracing himself for the confrontation he knew was coming. He knew he had to be honest with his friend and mentor, no matter the cost. 

"Look, Auston," he began, his voice firm but respectful, "I never meant to hurt you, or to disrespect you."

Auston's expression remained stony, his fists clenched at his sides.

 "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Knies?" he ground out, his eyes flashing with anger.

Matthew took a step closer, his own hands balling into fists. "I'm not just doing anything," he said, his voice low and even. "We're in love." The word hung in the air like a bomb, ready to detonate at any moment.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched from a distance, hoping that the truth would be enough to bridge the gap that had formed between the two men. But instead of softening, Auston's features hardened even further. "You don't love her," he spat. "You're just using her for a good time."

Matthew's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing. "That's not true," he said, his voice a low growl. "I care about her more than you could ever know."

Auston's laugh was bitter and cold. "You think I don't know what's best for her? You're just a fucking rookie, playing with things you don't understand."

The two men stood there, the tension between them growing with each passing second. You knew you had to intervene before things got out of hand. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing a hand on each of their arms. "Guys, please," you begged, your voice trembling. "We can work this out."

But Auston's rage was a force to be reckoned with. He shrugged off your touch, his gaze never leaving Matthew's. "This isn't over," he warned, before stalking away, leaving you and Matthew in a tense stand-off.

The silence was deafening as you both tried to process the situation. "I'm sorry," Matthew said finally, his voice tight with emotion. "I never wanted to cause trouble."

You looked up at him, your heart aching. "It's not your fault," you murmured, though the doubt in your voice was clear. "We just need to figure this out."

Matthew nodded, his jaw set in determination. "We will," he said, pulling you into a fierce embrace. "We'll show him that we're good for each other."

Together, you held onto each other, drawing strength from the warmth of your shared love. But in the back of your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that the real battle was only just beginning.

With the echo of Auston's footsteps fading down the hallway, you and Matthew stood in the tense silence of the corridor, the weight of his words pressing down on your shoulders. You could feel the tremble in Matthew's arms as he held you tight, his heart thundering against your chest. "We'll give him time," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your ears. "He'll come around."

Matthew kissed the top of your head, his voice a gruff murmur. "I hope so," he said, though the doubt in his tone was unmistakable. "For now, we have to keep this under wraps until he does."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I know," you murmured. "It's just hard."

He pulled back to look into your eyes, his own filled with a fierce protectiveness. "I'll do anything for you," he said, his voice a vow. "Even if it means keeping us a secret for a little longer."

The promise in his gaze was enough to steady your nerves, to give you the strength to face the days ahead. You leaned up to kiss him, a soft brush of your lips against his that spoke volumes of love and reassurance. "Thank you," you whispered against his mouth. "For fighting for us."

With one last, lingering kiss, you both stepped back, the reality of your situation crashing back down around you like a tide of cold water. The team was watching, the whispers had already started, and the road ahead was fraught with challenges. But as you looked into Matthew's eyes, you knew that no matter what the future held, you had each other, and that was all that truly mattered. With a deep breath, you slipped away, leaving him to join his teammates as you headed out into the cold night, your heart a tumult of hope and fear, love and determination. The battle lines were drawn, and now, it was just a matter of time before the full impact of your secret was revealed.

As the days passed, the tension between you and Auston remained a constant presence, like a thick fog that refused to lift. Matthew played each game with the same fiery passion, scoring goal after goal, but the joy was tempered by the knowledge that every victory was tainted by the secret you shared. In the quiet moments before practice, you could see the strain etched on his face, the burden of his love for you weighing heavily on his shoulders. Meanwhile, Auston's icy demeanor grew colder, his glances at you in the halls more piercing than any slap-shot. Yet, despite the unspoken hostility, the bond between you and Matthew only grew stronger, fueled by the stolen kisses and whispers of love shared in the shadows.

 Each night, you lay in his arms, talking of a future where you could be together without the fear of repercussions, where your love didn't have to be a secret. And every morning, as the light of day painted the city in shades of hope, you held onto that dream, knowing that together, you could face any storm that came your way.

The weeks dragged on, each game a silent battleground of unspoken emotions. The whispers grew louder, and the glances more furtive as rumors began to circulate. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out, and the anticipation was a constant throb of anxiety beneath the excitement of every victory. Yet, in the sanctuary of Matthew's penthouse, you found refuge in his arms, your love a beacon that guided you through the storm. The passion between you was as intense as ever, a fiery escape from the frigidity that had settled over the locker room. One evening, after a particularly grueling game, Matthew held you close, his breath warm against your neck. "We can't keep hiding forever," he murmured, his voice heavy with dread.

You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I know," you whispered back. "But we'll face it together, no matter what happens."

With a sigh, he kissed you tenderly, his hand tracing the curve of your waist. "For now," he said, his eyes dark with need, "let's just enjoy what we have."

And so you did, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the feel of his cock pressing against you as your bodies melded together in a dance of passion and desire. His hands explored every inch of your skin, worshiping you with a reverence that made you feel like the only woman in the world. And when he slid inside you, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the sweet symphony of your lovemaking.

The intensity of your love-making grew, each stroke a declaration of the love that neither of you dared speak aloud in the harsh light of day. Matthew's cock filled you completely, his movements as fierce as they were tender, his eyes never leaving yours. You clung to him, the sound of your bodies slapping together a rhythmic symphony that drowned out the whispers and accusations of the world beyond the bedroom door. With each moan and gasp, you climbed higher, the tension in the room coiling tighter until it was almost unbearable. And when you finally reached that shattering peak, your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, leaving you trembling in the aftermath, your pussy pulsing around his dick. 

He followed close behind, his own release a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building. As he collapsed on top of you, his heart hammering against yours, you both knew that the storm was coming, and there was no shelter strong enough to shield you from the tempest of emotions that awaited. But for now, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you found solace in the knowledge that you had each other, no matter the cost. And together, you whispered sweet nothings into the dark, the sound of your breaths mingling like the promise of a love that would not be denied.

The days grew shorter, the shadows of doubt and fear stretching longer across the ice as the inevitable approached. In the locker room, the tension was so thick it could be cut with a skate blade. Matthew played his heart out, each game a silent plea for understanding and acceptance. And as the whispers grew to shouts, as the truth began to crack through the veneer of secrecy, you knew that the moment of reckoning was upon you. You watched from the stands, your heart in your throat, as the final buzzer rang out, signaling the end of yet another victory. The team skated over to the bench, but Auston remained on the ice, his eyes locked on yours, a silent challenge that sent a shiver down your spine. 

As Matthew emerged from the locker room, sweat-soaked and weary from the battle on and off the ice, you took a deep breath and stepped forward. This was it—the moment you would lay your hearts bare before the world, no longer hiding behind the facade of a stolen love. You reached out for his hand, feeling the tremble of his love and fear, and together, you faced the storm, ready to fight for the love that had become the most important thing in your lives.

The moment you stepped out of the shadows, the locker room fell silent. The air was thick with anticipation, the eyes of his teammates boring into them like the sharp edges of their skates. Matthew squeezed your hand, his gaze never wavering from Auston's as he approached. "We need to talk," he said, his voice firm but steady.

Auston's eyes narrowed, the fury in them a stark contrast to the love that burned in yours. "What the fuck is going on, Knies?" he demanded, his voice a low snarl.

Matthew took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. "We're together," he said simply, his eyes flickering to you, finding the strength in your gaze. "We're in love."

The silence that followed was deafening, the only sound the distant echo of the empty arena. You could feel the judgment and accusations in the air, the weight of their stares a physical pressure on your skin. But you didn't flinch, not even when Auston's fist connected with the locker, the clang echoing through the tense space. "How could you?" he roared, his voice filled with a mix of rage and disbelief.

Matthew's jaw clenched, but he didn't back down. "Because she makes me happy," he said, his voice low and fierce. "And I make her happy. That's all that should matter."

Auston's eyes flicked between the two of you, the realization of the depth of your feelings crashing over him like a tidal wave. For a moment, it seemed as though the world had stopped, the only things moving the frantic beating of your hearts. And then, with a sigh that seemed to deflate him, he stepped closer. "Look," he said, his voice tight with emotion, "I just want what's best for her."

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. "And that's exactly what Matthew is," you said softly. "I know you're angry, but please, just give us a chance."

The muscles in Auston's jaw worked as he stared at you, his eyes searching. Then, with a nod that seemed to come from somewhere deep within, he pulled you both into a tight embrace. "If you hurt her," he murmured into Matthew's ear, "I'll end you."

Matthew nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I won't," he promised. "I love her too much."

And with those words, the storm began to dissipate, the first rays of understanding breaking through the clouds. It would take time for the team to accept you, for the whispers to fade, but you knew that with Matthew by your side, you could face whatever the future held. Together, the three of you stepped into the light, ready to embrace the love that had been hidden for too long.

The initial shock of the revelation slowly gave way to a tentative acceptance among the team. Matthew's unwavering commitment to both you and the game became a silent testament to the depth of his feelings. Practices grew tenser as whispers of your relationship spread through the NHL grapevine, but the bond between you and Matthew only grew stronger with each shared glance, each stolen touch. The guys on the team, though initially skeptical, began to see the genuine happiness you brought to their usually stoic comrade. Auston, though still wary, stood by his word, watching over you both with a protective eye that slowly softened into something resembling approval. 

Together, you faced the media's relentless scrutiny, the leering glances, and the snide comments, your love a beacon that burned brighter with every challenge thrown your way. Through it all, you remained steadfast, your love an unshakeable force that began to melt even the coldest hearts. Each victory, each shared smile, brought you closer, proving that love could not only survive in the rough-and-tumble world of professional hockey, but it could thrive, rewriting the rules and redefining what it meant to be a family on and off the ice.

[jackethockey]

Oh Captain, My Captain | Q. Hughes

Warnings - smut, kissing, p in v, wrap it before you tap it

Word Count - 1k

Summary - Your own way of congratulating Quinn on the new captaincy…

The grand ballroom of the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver swirled with glitz and glamour as the annual charity gala for the Canucks kicked into high gear. Quinn Hughes, the freshly minted captain, looked resplendent in his tailored tuxedo, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. You were already tipsy from one too many glasses of champagne and had been watching him from across the room with a smoldering gaze, your heart racing with desire. you had been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, dreaming of the night when you could finally claim him as your own, in the most intimate of ways. Their three-year relationship had been a whirlwind of love, passion, and stolen moments, but tonight, with the eyes of Vancouver's elite upon them, you wanted more than just a kiss behind the curtain. you sailed through the sea of well-wishers and teammates, your crimson dress hugging your curves and leaving little to the imagination. As you approached Quinn, you could feel the heat of his gaze on you, a silent promise of the fire that awaited them. "Take me to the bathroom," you murmured into his ear, your breath hot and urgent. "Now." Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, but the hunger in your voice was unmistakable. He knew that tone all too well. With a quick nod, he disentangled himself from the group and led you through the throng, his hand firm around your waist, guiding you to the secluded sanctuary you so desperately craved.

Once in the bathroom, Quinn locked the door behind them, the sound echoing through the marble chamber. Your eyes were dark with lust, your chest heaving with anticipation as you reached up to tug at his bowtie. "I've wanted you all night," you breathed, your fingers trembling with the need to feel him. Quinn's gaze roamed your flushed features, his desire mirroring yours. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you into the plush vanity. The cool marble countertop pressed against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your body begging for more. His hands roamed your waist, sliding down to cup your ass, lifting yours slightly so you could feel his arousal pressing against yours. you moaned into the kiss, grinding against him, your need for him growing with every passing second. Quinn broke away, panting, and whispered, "Are you sure about this?" You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." With that, he scooped you up and placed you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The heat between them was palpable, their three years of passion culminating in this moment of raw desire, hidden away from the prying eyes of the gala.

Quinn's strong hands gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up to reveal your lacy red lingerie, matching the color of your dress and the passion in your eyes. He kissed along your collarbone, feeling your pulse race under his lips as he reached behind to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts spill free. He took a moment to admire the soft mounds, teasing the peaked nipples with his thumbs before leaning in to capture one in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to take more. He obliged, suckling and biting gently, eliciting a symphony of moans that filled the small space. His other hand trailed down your body, slipping under your panties to find you wet and ready, his fingers teasing your clit in slow, torturous circles. you squirmed and bucked your hips, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he expertly worked your body. Quinn could feel the tension coiling within you, the same tension that had been building in him all night. He knew you were close, your breaths hitching and your legs tightening around his waist. With a final, firm press of his thumb, you came undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, crying out his name. He kissed you deeply, swallowing your cries as he felt his own need for you reaching a fever pitch.

Quinn's own desire was now a raging inferno, his cock straining against his pants. He pulled away from your kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he unzipped his fly and freed his erection. Your eyes widened with lust as you watched him stroke himself, the sight making you wetter. "Take me," you begged your voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. He stepped closer, aligning himself with yours, and with one swift motion, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. you gasped, your body adjusting to his size, your walls clenching around him as you felt the head of his cock hit the spot that made you see stars. You moved together, a dance of passion that had been perfected over the years, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. The reader's nails dug into his shoulders, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps of pleasure. Quinn's grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you, each stroke deeper and more demanding than the last. They were lost in the moment, the outside world forgotten as they claimed each other with an intensity that left them both breathless. Your orgasm built again, a crescendo of sensation that had you biting your bottom lip to stifle your cries. Quinn felt you tighten around him, and with one final, powerful thrust, he followed you over the edge, filling you with his release. They held onto each other panting and trembling, their hearts racing as they rode the waves of pleasure that crashed over them. For a brief moment, the bathroom was their private paradise, a sanctuary of passion amidst the swirl of the charity gala.

Their breaths mingled in the steamy air as they stared into each other's eyes, the reality of their heated tryst in the bathroom of the charity gala sinking in. Quinn's forehead was dotted with sweat, his eyes smoldering as he gently kissed the reader's neck, his cock still inside you, pulsing with the aftershocks of climax. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your body clinging to his as if you never wanted to let go. With a soft moan, you whispered, "Quinn, that was..." But the words trailed off as you couldn't find the right ones to describe the intensity of their lovemaking. He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin, and kissed you tenderly. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, gently setting your back on your feet. He helped you fix your dress and lingerie, his touch gentle but urgent as if he couldn't bear to part from your body even for a second. They managed to compose themselves, sharing a secret smile in the mirror that spoke volumes about the unbridled desire that had just been unleashed between them. With one last lingering kiss, Quinn opened the door, and they stepped back into the gala, the scent of their passion lingering on their skin, a delicious secret that only they shared amidst the swirling ballroom. The rest of the night was a haze of stolen glances and knowing smiles, the electricity between them palpable to everyone who saw them. Little did they know that the new captain of the Canucks had just scored the ultimate goal in the most unexpected of places.

[jackethockey]

From Eden

summary: In this story, it follows the electrifying romance between Quinn Hughes, a star player for the Vancouver Canucks, and a devoted female fan who catches his eye during a game. After several chance encounters, the two find themselves drawn together by an irresistible chemistry that leads them to an intense sexual relationship, with their first encounter happening in the empty locker room after a game. Their connection transcends the rink, and they begin a secret love affair, fueled by passion and the thrill of the forbidden. As their bond strengthens, Quinn finally asks her to be his girlfriend, bringing their relationship into the light. Despite the potential challenges that lie ahead, they are ready to face the world together, united by their love and the unforgettable moments they've shared.

warnings: heavy detailed smut, explicate language, kissing, stripping, fluff

Innocence died screaming honey, ask me, I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.

As the buzzer echoed through the stadium, signaling the end of the intense game, Quinn Hughes couldn't shake the feeling that something was different tonight. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the crowd as he took a victory lap with his Vancouver Canucks teammates, searching for that one person who had captured his attention. And there you were, a beacon of beauty among the fans, your eyes gleaming with excitement and your hair cascading down your back like a waterfall of chocolate silk. Quinn had noticed you before, of course, sitting in the same spot at each game, cheering him on with a passion that seemed to transcend the typical fan-player dynamic. But tonight, as he looked into the stands, it was as if a spotlight had been cast on you, illuminating the way your eyes followed his every move.

The next time fate decided to play matchmaker came a few days later. Quinn was walking down Robson Street, his mind still preoccupied with the image of you in that Canucks jersey, when he spotted you from afar. Your laughter rang out, mingling with the chatter of passersby, and his heart skipped a beat. He quickened his pace, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and approached you with a smile that could melt ice. 

"Hey," he called out, his voice a mix of excitement and nerves. "Aren't you the fan who's been lighting up our games lately?" 

You turned, eyes widening in recognition, and the world around them seemed to slow down as you both locked gazes. "Quinn Hughes," you gasped, a hint of disbelief in your voice. "What are you doing here?"

The conversation flowed naturally, as if you had known each other for years. You spoke of your love for the sport, the electric energy of the games, and how you had always had a soft spot for the young, talented defenseman with the heart of a lion. Quinn, in turn, shared his passion for hockey, his journey to the NHL, and the unspoken connection he felt every time he saw you in the stands. The chemistry between you was palpable, a sizzling current that seemed to crackle in the crisp Vancouver air. He couldn't believe his luck when you agreed to let him take you out for coffee, a simple gesture that would soon evolve into something much more intimate and thrilling.

Their first date was filled with easy banter and shared stories, the kind of connection that makes time melt away. They found themselves at a local café, the warmth of the place a stark contrast to the chilly evening outside. Quinn was captivated by your wit and charm, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your life and your dreams. You, on the other hand, found yourself drawn to his humility, despite his celebrity status, and the way his hands moved as he described his love for the game. It was clear that this was the beginning of something special, a bond that could not be confined to the rink or the stands.

As the night grew late, Quinn couldn't resist extending the invitation for you to join him at the next home game. 

"You've always brought me luck," he said with a wink. "I'd love for you to see what goes on behind the scenes."

 Your heart raced at the prospect of being so close to the action, and closer still to the man who had stolen it. 

With a playful grin, he added,

 "And maybe, if we're lucky, we'll have the locker room to ourselves afterward." 

The suggestion hung in the air, thick with anticipation, as you both knew what that meant. The thrill of possibly being caught added a delicious layer of excitement to the already heady attraction between you.

The night of the game arrived, and you found yourself dressed to the nines, a nervous energy coursing through your veins as you made your way to the stadium. You had never been backstage at a professional sporting event, let alone had the chance to be alone with one of its stars. The game was a nail-biter, every shot on goal, every check into the boards leaving you on the edge of your seat. And when the Canucks emerged victorious, you could see the pure joy on Quinn's face as he skated over to you, sweat glistening on his forehead, and handed you a puck.

 "For good luck," he murmured, his voice low.

As the final whistle blew and the crowd erupted into cheers, Quinn's gaze found yours once again. With a nod of his head, he beckoned you to follow the team's PR person who had been waiting discretely nearby, granting you VIP access to the sacred space of the locker room. Your heart pounded as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the sound of the jubilant team echoing down the hallway. The locker room was a whirlwind of activity as players shed their gear and congratulated each other, their voices a cacophony of excitement. You and Quinn exchanged knowing looks as the players filtered out one by one, the room growing quieter until only the two of you remained. 

The tension was palpable as he closed the door behind the last teammate, leaving you alone in the musky, steam-filled sanctuary with the man who had been a fantasy only hours ago. The reality of the situation hit you, and you felt a rush of excitement and trepidation mingling with the thrill of the illicit rendezvous. He approached you, his eyes dark with desire, and your breath hitched as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

 "Ready?" he whispered, his voice gruff with anticipation. You nodded, unable to find words as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt about what was to come.

With the locker room now empty, Quinn's strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hands roamed over his broad chest, feeling the contours of his abs through the thin fabric of his jersey. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if it was the first taste of something he'd craved for an eternity. You responded eagerly, your own hands fumbling with the strings of his pants, desperate to feel the heat of his cock that you knew was waiting for you. The sound of gear clattering to the floor was the only noise in the now-silent room as the two of you succumbed to the passion that had been simmering between you since that first fateful meeting in the stands.

With the locker room door securely locked, Quinn's nimble hands found the zipper of your tight jeans, pulling it down with a slow, deliberate motion that sent shivers down your spine. Your own hands were busy tugging at his sweat-soaked jersey, eager to reveal the defined muscles beneath. As the fabric fell away, his rock-hard abs and the tantalizing outline of his cock straining against his boxers were revealed, making your knees tremble with anticipation.

He gently pushed you against the cold, metal bench, his lips never leaving yours as he deftly unbuttoned your blouse, exposing your lacy black bra. His fingers traced the edges of the fabric, teasing your sensitive nipples until they stood at attention, begging for his touch. You gasped as he finally cupped your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened buds, eliciting a soft moan that was muffled by his mouth. The smell of sweat, adrenaline, and pure desire filled the air as you both fumbled to remove the final barriers between you.

 Quinn's cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you couldn't help but stare at it, your pussy growing wetter with every passing second. The risk of being caught added an intoxicating rush to the moment, heightening every sensation. You reached for him, eager to feel him in your hand, to explore the velvety skin and the throbbing veins that signaled his need for you. His hand slipped under your skirt, his fingers finding your clit and beginning to stroke it gently, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The locker room, once a bustling hub of activity, was now a sanctuary of passion and secrets, a place where the star player and his devoted fan would come together in a union that defied the boundaries of the ice rink.

Quinn's touch grew more insistent, his fingers dancing over your clit with a finesse that belied his rough exterior. You could feel the heat building within you, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm you. You moaned, arching into him, your hand wrapping around his cock and pumping it with the same urgency that pulsed through your veins. His eyes rolled back in his head, his breath hitching as your fingertips grazed the sensitive head of his shaft, smearing the beads of precum that had gathered there. The locker room air grew heavier with every touch, every caress, as you both succumbed to the undeniable attraction that had been smoldering between you. As he stroked your slick folds, your hips rocked against his hand, silently begging for more.

Without a moment's hesitation, he positioned himself between your spread legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. With a deep, needy groan, he thrust into you, filling you up with one powerful stroke. You cried out, the sensation of his thick length stretching you open almost too much to handle, yet it felt so incredibly right. His love and lust for you were palpable in every hard pump, his hips driving into you with an intensity that mirrored the fierce determination he showed on the ice. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, your walls clenching around him as he claimed you in this most primal of ways.

 The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the locker room, mingling with the rhythmic thud of his heart and the shallow breaths you both took, trying to keep from screaming out in ecstasy. His eyes searched yours, making sure you were with him every step of the way as he fucked you with an urgency that was both raw and beautiful. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back, as he picked up the pace, driving into you with a passion that seemed to defy gravity. The world outside the locker room was a distant memory as you both gave in to the overwhelming desire that had brought you to this moment. The risk of getting caught only added to the exhilaration, each stroke a silent declaration of the connection that had been forged in the heat of battle on the ice, now coming to a fever pitch in this intimate, forbidden embrace.

With one final, earth-shattering thrust, Quinn's cock pulsed deep within you, filling you with his hot, thick cum as your own orgasm washed over you in waves. Your body trembled with the intensity of your release, your pussy clenching around him as you both rode the crest of pleasure. Breathless, you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his sweat-slicked body against your own. Despite the sticky mess you'd made, the thought of being separated was unbearable. So, when he whispered an invitation to spend the night at his apartment, you eagerly accepted.

The walk to his place was filled with nervous laughter and gentle touches, the excitement of the evening still humming between you. Once there, you showered together, the warm water cascading over your entwined bodies as you washed away the evidence of your passionate encounter. Wrapped in nothing but towels, you shared a look that spoke volumes about the night ahead. As you dried off, he took you in his arms again, his cock already hardening with the promise of more to come. But for now, you both needed rest, the exhaustion from the game and the intensity of your tryst weighing heavily on your limbs.

You curled into his embrace as you settled into his large, comfortable bed, his strong arms holding you tight. The scent of his cologne mingled with the faint aroma of the locker room, a reminder of the illicit thrill that had brought you to this moment. As sleep claimed you, you felt a sense of contentment that was foreign yet incredibly right. The next morning, you awoke to find him still holding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. You didn't want to move, didn't want to break the spell of this newfound intimacy.

As the days stretched into weeks, your relationship grew stronger, fueled by stolen moments of passion and whispered confessions of feeling. The sex was explosive and frequent, a physical manifestation of the connection that had taken root in your hearts. Every touch, every kiss, was a declaration of the love that had blossomed between you. And then, one evening as you lay in his arms, watching the city lights flicker through the windows, Quinn took a deep breath and asked the question that had been hovering unspoken in the air.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he murmured, his voice a mix of hope and vulnerability.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with happiness. "Yes," you breathed, feeling the weight of a thousand unspoken words lifted from your chest. "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Quinn."

The joy that lit up his face was like the sun breaking through a cloudy Vancouver sky, bright and beautiful. You both knew that this was just the beginning, that there would be challenges and obstacles to navigate, but in that moment, all that mattered was the love you had found in the most unexpected of places. The days that followed were a whirlwind of happiness and passion, as you both revealed in the openness of your relationship, no longer needing to hide your feelings or sneak around the locker room. The world had shifted, and you were ready to face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

[jackethockey]

Masterlist

most of my work is going to be 18+ (lots of smut, sexual content, explicit language, etc)

updated: 11/28/24

Adam Fantilli:

heaven

One shots:

Cole Sillinger

Jack Hughes

Jeremy Swayman

Connor Bedard

Vince Dunn

Quinn Hughes:

From Eden

Matthew knies:

Whole lotta love

Jamie Drysdale and Trevor Zegras:

Two Ghosts

Jack Hughes:

Taste

No shame

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

warnings: heavy smut, sexual content, explicit language

Vince Dunn, the star defenseman for the Seattle Kraken, skated around the rink, his heart racing with excitement from the intense game. As the buzzer blared, signaling the end of the third period, the arena erupted into a sea of blue and green, with the Kraken fans celebrating their victory. The adrenaline coursed through Vince's veins as he scanned the crowd for the source of a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. There, in the nosebleeds, a flash of brunette hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes caught his gaze. It was you, a fan whose beauty had captivated him from the moment he saw you cheering in the stands. He couldn't explain why, but he needed to know you, to feel your energy, to taste your passion.

After the game, as he showered and changed into his street clothes, Vince's thoughts lingered on the image of you. The way your eyes had locked onto him during the game was magnetic, and he couldn't shake the desire to make that connection a reality. He knew he had to find you. Driven by his obsession, he approached the bar across the street from the stadium, a local haunt where the fans often congregated to unwind. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you, perched on a stool, a beer in hand, surrounded by a group of friends. You looked as radiant as you had from afar, your laughter lighting up the room.

Taking a deep breath, Vince summoned the courage to approach. He slid in next to you, the electricity between you palpable as your eyes met. 

"You were amazing out there tonight," you said, breaking the ice. 

Vince felt his cock stir in his pants, his desire for you growing with each passing second. He leaned in, his voice low and seductive.

 "Thank you," he murmured, "but the real show is just getting started." He offered you a knowing smile before taking a sip of the whiskey he'd ordered.

The flirtation was unmistakable, and your cheeks flushed with excitement as you bit your bottom lip. 

"Is that so?" you replied, the challenge in your voice unmistakable.

 Vince knew what he wanted, and he wasn't going to play games. He set his drink down, placed a firm but gentle hand on your thigh, and whispered, 

"How about we take this somewhere more... private?" His eyes searched yours for consent, and when he found it, his heart raced.

With a nod of agreement, you both left the bar, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat building between you. Vince's penthouse loomed ahead, a sleek bastion of luxury in the heart of the city. Inside, the soft glow of the lights cast shadows across the spacious living room, setting the stage for what was about to unfold. He led you to the bedroom, his hand never leaving your waist, the anticipation thick in the air.

As you stepped into the room, Vince closed the door behind you, his gaze never leaving yours. He took a moment to drink in the sight of you, standing before him, dressed in a form-fitting jersey and tight jeans that hugged your curves in all the right places. You returned the favor, admiring the muscular frame that had dominated the ice only hours earlier. The chemistry was undeniable.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he began to kiss you, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of your soft skin. You moaned into his mouth, your body responding to his touch. His hands found their way to your breasts, gently squeezing your nipples through the fabric. You gasped, arching into his touch, the fabric of your jersey becoming damp with your arousal.

Vince pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your flushed expression. 

"You want this as much as I do," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as your desire for him overwhelmed you. He reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a lacy black bra that barely contained your ample breasts.

With a flick of his wrist, Vince unclipped your bra, letting your breasts spill out into his waiting hands. His thumbs flicked over your sensitive nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your clit. You whimpered, your hands finding his broad shoulders for balance as your knees grew weak. He bent down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling and teasing it with his teeth until you were trembling with need. His hands traveled down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs, revealing matching black lace panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

As the fabric slid down, his cock, now fully erect, pressed against the fabric of his own pants, begging for release. He stepped back, admiring the view before reaching for his zipper and freeing his thick, hard cock. It sprang out, the tip glistening with precum. Your eyes widened with desire, and without another word, you dropped to your knees in front of him.

With a hungry look in your eyes, you took Vince's cock in your hand, feeling its weight and heat. Your other hand cupped his balls, gently squeezing as you leaned in and kissed the tip. His breath hitched, and he threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding you closer. You wrapped your lips around his cock, taking him inch by inch, savoring the taste and feel of him. Your tongue swirled around the head, teasing the sensitive spot just beneath, and you felt him throb in response.

Looking up at him, you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. The room was filled with the sounds of his labored breathing and your wet, eager sucks. Vince's eyes rolled back in his head, lost in the sensation of your mouth on his cock. He knew he wouldn't last much longer if you kept this up, but he was more than ready to give you the same pleasure you were giving him. He pulled you up, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips.

 "I need to be inside you,"

 he groaned, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt, revealing his ripped abs and muscular chest.

Vince's urgent words sent a shiver down your spine as he picked you up, effortlessly carrying you to the bed. He laid you down on the cool, crisp sheets, his body hovering over yours. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty before him, the way your hair fanned out across the pillow and your breasts heaved with every breath you took. His hands caressed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He kissed down your neck, across your collarbone, and down to your breasts, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples, drawing gasps of pleasure from your lips. His fingers traced the lines of your stomach, dipping into the waistband of your panties, feeling the dampness that had gathered there.

 With a gentle tug, he removed the last barrier between you, exposing your slick pussy to his eager gaze. He took in the sight, his cock aching with need, before he kissed down your body, his mouth finding your clit. He flicked it with the tip of his tongue, and you bucked your hips up to meet him, your hands grasping the sheets tightly. His tongue danced over your folds, exploring every inch of your sex as he tasted your desire.

You moaned, your body arching off the bed, desperate for more. Sensing your urgency, Vince slid a finger inside you, feeling how wet and tight you were. He added another, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come. Your moans grew louder, your body writhing beneath his touch. He knew you were close, and with one final, lingering kiss to your clit, he moved back up your body, aligning his cock with your entrance.

Looking into your eyes, he thrust into you, filling you completely, and you screamed out his name as the first wave of pleasure washed over you. Your bodies moved together in a perfect symphony of lust and need, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The room was a blur of skin, sweat, and passion as you both chased the ultimate release, your cries mingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Vince's hips dug into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with each powerful thrust. You felt yourself tighten around him, your orgasm building, until it crashed over you like a tidal wave. Vince followed soon after, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum, your bodies locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion. As you both came down from the intense high, Vince collapsed onto the bed, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close, your legs still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. The night had only just begun, and Vince was already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him.

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

fluff, connor x reader

Connor Bedard, the prodigious rookie for the Chicago Blackhawks, had always been the center of attention on the ice, but today, his focus was drawn to the stands. There you were, a radiant beam of light in a sea of navy and red, your eyes locked onto him as he glided effortlessly across the rink. Time seemed to slow down as you both shared a moment that was both electrifying and terrifying in its intensity. Connor had never felt his heart race so fast during a game before, and he knew that he had to find out who the girl with the captivating smile was. He skated harder than he ever had, pushing himself to win not just for the love of the sport, but also for the chance to catch your eye once more. Little did he know, this was the first play in a love story that would unfold in the most unexpected of arenas.

After the exhilarating match, Connor couldn't shake the image of your enchanting smile from his mind. Determined to find you, he asked the arena staff if they could locate the owner of the seat where he had seen you. His heart pounded with anticipation as he waited for their response, the adrenaline from the game still coursing through his veins. Finally, a staff member approached with a message: they had found your name and seat number. With a mix of excitement and nerves, he decided to send you an anonymous note, expressing his desire to meet the girl who had unknowingly stolen his breath away. The note, scribbled hastily on the back of a team poster, was delivered to you with a bouquet of roses, the team's logo subtly woven into the bouquet's design. 

It read, "To the girl who made me see stars on the ice tonight, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tomorrow?"

 With a tremble in his hand, he signed it simply as "Your Mystery Admirer." 

He had no idea how you would react, but he knew he had to take this shot, hoping that the connection they had shared during those fleeting moments was real and not just a figment of his overactive imagination.

The next day, you found yourself clutching the note and roses, your heart fluttering with curiosity and a hint of excitement. The boldness of the gesture was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and yet it felt as if you already knew the sender. After much contemplation and a few encouraging nudges from your friends, you decided to take a chance. You sent a reply to the email address provided, accepting the dinner invitation. That evening, you dressed with care, a nervous energy buzzing through you as you approached the elegant restaurant Connor had chosen. The moment you walked in, his eyes searched for you, and when they found yours, the same electricity that had sparked during the game crackled in the air between you.

He stood from his table, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and with a gentle nod, he indicated for you to join him. As you approached, he held out the chair with old-fashioned chivalry, his eyes never leaving yours. The conversation flowed as naturally as the wine, with laughter and shared stories creating a warm, comfortable space. It was clear that Connor was smitten, and as the evening grew later, so did the realization that you felt the same. The anticipation grew with every shared glance and every brush of your hands across the table, culminating in a tender first kiss under the glow of the city's skyline.

This was the start of a whirlwind romance that would be tested by the demands of his career and the scrutiny of the public eye, but in that moment, all that mattered was the love that had begun to bloom between a girl and the boy who had seen stars in her eyes.

(sorry this one kinda failed and i ran out of ideas)

[jackethockey]

and it continues……. god he is so hot. lip readers wya

[jackethockey]

sharks rookie duo at the niners game

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

warnings: heavy smut, sexual content, detailed sex, offensive language

(jeremy x oc)

The moment Jeremy Swayman, the towering goaltender for the Boston Bruins, laid eyes on her, he felt his heart stumble in his chest. She was a vision amidst the bustling city crowd, her auburn hair catching the autumn sunlight and her emerald eyes sparkling with a mischief that made him want to know her secrets. He had just stepped out of the TD Garden after a grueling practice, the scent of ice and sweat clinging to his gear as he navigated through the throngs of die-hard fans. Jeremy had always been good at keeping his cool under pressure, but as he watched her from afar, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee and chuckling at something on her phone, he found himself utterly captivated. She was the kind of woman who could make any man drop his guard, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to play it safe.

The air was charged with the electricity of a thousand whispers as he approached her, each step feeling heavier than the last. He was Jeremy Swayman, NHL star, and she was just a girl with a pretty smile and a love for the game. Yet, as their eyes met, something in that fleeting glance told him that she could be more than just a fan, more than just a girl. She looked up at him, surprise etched into her delicate features, and Jeremy felt his pulse quicken. He had seen her at a few games before, always sitting in the same seat, always wearing that vintage Boston Bruins cap that sat so perfectly on her head. But now, as their paths crossed in this random, chaotic dance of fate, he realized that he had to know her name, had to find a way to make her smile just for him.

"Hi," he murmured, his voice raspier than he had intended, but she seemed to melt at the sound of it. "I'm Jeremy."

Her eyes widened, the green depths swimming with excitement.

"I know," she replied with a shy smile, her cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink. "I've seen you play. You're amazing."

"Thank you," he said, his heart pounding in his chest. "But I'm just a guy who loves the sport. What brings you to the games?"

Her name was Emily, and she was a sports journalist, a fact that only served to intrigue him more. They talked for what felt like hours, about the nuances of the game, the thrill of scoring the winning goal, and the unspoken camaraderie that existed between players and fans. Jeremy found himself drawn to her wit, her passion, and the way she could dissect a play with the precision of a seasoned coach. Emily, for her part, was charmed by his humility and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the ice. It was as if he saw the world through a different lens, one that was frosty and fast-paced, yet filled with a warmth that was impossible to ignore.

As the day turned to night, and the chill of the autumn air settled in, Jeremy knew he had to ask. 

"Would you like to grab dinner with me tonight?"

Emily looked at him, a mix of disbelief and excitement playing across her features.

 "I'd love to," she said, her voice a soft whisper that seemed to echo in the emptying streets.

The restaurant was a cozy Italian place, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, they shared stories of their lives, their dreams, and their fears. Jeremy spoke of the pressure to perform, the weight of expectations, and the camaraderie of the locker room. Emily, in turn, revealed her love for the written word, the rush of adrenaline she got from being ringside at a game, and the quiet solitude of her apartment, where she penned her articles. They laughed, they connected, and somewhere between the breadsticks and the dessert menu, Jeremy felt something shift within him. This wasn't just an innocent dinner; it was the beginning of something much more profound.

Their first kiss came as a surprise, a gentle brush of their lips that seemed to speak of a future filled with passion and promise. It was as if the universe had paused just for them, the cacophony of the city fading into a gentle symphony of their hearts beating in sync. Jeremy felt a jolt of electricity run through him as he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was nothing but the warmth of her body pressed against his. Emily's hands roamed up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his jersey, as if she could feel the power of his love for the game, and for her, through the very threads that made him a Boston Bruin. The kiss grew hungry, desperate, and it was all Jeremy could do to keep from sweeping her off her feet and into the nearest alleyway. But he didn't want to scare her off. He wanted to savor this moment, to etch it into his memory forever, to let her know that she was the one who had stolen his heart, and he had no intention of ever getting it back.

Their relationship grew with the speed of a breakaway on fresh ice, each moment more exhilarating than the last. Jeremy found himself thinking of Emily during games, her name a silent chant that fueled his every move. Off the rink, their dates were a delightful blend of shared laughter and tender touches that grew more intimate with each passing day. They explored the hidden gems of Boston together, from the quiet bookstores she adored to the secret spots where they could watch the sunset without the intrusion of flashing cameras. As their bond deepened, so did their desire for one another, the simmering tension between them threatening to boil over. It was inevitable that one evening, as they stumbled into his apartment after a particularly exhilarating victory, the barrier between them would shatter. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, and Jeremy couldn't resist the urge to claim her lips once more, this time with a fervor that spoke of all the nights he'd dreamed of having her in his arms. Her body molded to his, and he knew that this was no longer a simple infatuation—it was love, raw and all-consuming, and it was about to set their worlds ablaze.

Jeremy's need for her grew more intense with every second, and he couldn't wait any longer to feel her completely bare against his skin. With a gentle yet firm tug, he removed her sweater and bra, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Her nipples pebbled under his gaze, and he couldn't resist the urge to lean in and take one into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak while his thumb and forefinger pinched and rolled the other. Emily moaned, arching her back to offer herself up to him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. His tongue traced circles around her areola, teasing and taunting before he took her nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. She gasped, and he could feel her pussy quiver against his leg. He knew she was desperate for more, but he wanted to savor every moment, to make sure she felt the same all-consuming desire that was burning through him. With a smirk, he slid his hand down her torso, his fingers finding the waistband of her jeans. He undid the button and zipper with ease, his eyes never leaving hers, and slid his hand inside, feeling the heat of her pussy through the fabric. Emily's breath caught as he began to rub her clit, his touch feather-light and maddening. She squirmed beneath him, her hands reaching up to tug at his hair, urging him to give her more. But Jeremy was a master of patience, and he took his time, watching the pleasure build in her eyes until she was panting and begging for release. Only then did he push her jeans down her legs, revealing her to him in all her beauty. He kissed his way down her body, his mouth worshiping every inch of her soft skin until he reached her pussy, already glistening with arousal. His tongue darted out, flicking against her clit as his fingers delved into her folds, seeking the spot that would make her come apart. Emily's hips bucked up to meet his mouth, and she moaned his name, her voice a sweet symphony of need. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit, feeling her body tense with each pass. When she was on the brink, he slowed down, drawing out the exquisite agony, making her beg for release. But he was relentless, eager to hear the sweet sound of her pleasure when she finally shattered for him. And when she did, it was like nothing he had ever experienced, her pussy clenching around his fingers, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. He lapped up every drop of her, savoring her taste, before standing to remove his own clothes. His dick was hard and heavy, the veins standing out in stark relief, and he couldn't wait to bury himself inside her. With a swift motion, he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his dick nudging at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pussy clench around him as he filled her completely. She was so tight, so wet, and he groaned with the effort it took to keep from pounding into her. Instead, he took his time, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had her moaning and writhing beneath him. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he felt her climb closer and closer to the edge again. His hand found her clit, and he began to rub it in time with his thrusts, watching her eyes glaze over with passion. Emily's nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper, faster. And when she came, it was with a scream that echoed through the apartment, her pussy milking his cock as he followed her over the edge, filling her with his cum. They lay there, panting and trembling, their bodies slick with sweat, and Jeremy knew that this was just the beginning of a love affair that would burn hotter than any game he had ever played.

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

Fluff, jack x reader

Jack Hughes, the promising young center for the New Jersey Devils, was no stranger to the spotlight. With his piercing blue eyes and boyish charm, he had captured the hearts of many fans across the league. However, it was in a dimly lit sports bar one fateful evening that he would lock eyes with the person who would change his life forever. You, an unassuming brunette with a shy smile, sat at the bar with friends, engrossed in a heated debate over the latest trade rumors. Catching your passion for the sport, Jack couldn't help but be drawn to you, feeling an inexplicable pull that surpassed his love for the ice. Unbeknownst to you, he had scored the game-winner earlier that night, but at that moment, his focus was solely on the woman who had unknowingly stolen the show. As the tension in the room grew thicker with every passing second, Jack mustered the courage to approach, eager to learn your name and the story behind the fiery spirit he saw in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Jack Hughes approached the bar, his heart racing like it was in a sudden-death overtime. As he got closer, your laughter filled the air, and he felt his nerves melt away.

"Excuse me," he began, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate in the quiet space between you and your friends.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the moment your gaze connected, Jack knew he was in for something more than a simple chat about the game. The electricity that arced between you was palpable, and it was all he could do to keep from reaching out to touch you.

"I couldn't help but overhear your discussion about the trades," he said, leaning against the bar casually. "I've got a few thoughts if you don't mind me joining in."

Your friends exchanged glances before smiling and making room for him, sensing the undeniable chemistry that had sparked. With a nod from you, Jack slid onto the stool next to yours, the warmth of your body seeping into his side and setting his blood on fire. The conversation flowed naturally, a dance of words and smiles that grew more intimate as the night went on, leaving him hopeful that the magic of the evening was just beginning.

The conversation at the bar grew more heated, but in the best way possible, as Jack found himself not just explaining his thoughts on the trades but also sharing stories from his own experiences in the NHL. You matched him point for point with your knowledge and passion for the sport, your cheeks flushing with excitement as you debated strategies and players. His respect for you grew with every intelligent insight you offered, and Jack couldn't remember the last time he felt so alive outside of a game. As the bar began to empty and the lights grew dimmer, he knew he had to make his move before the night slipped away. He leaned closer, the scent of your perfume intoxicating, and whispered,

"Would you like to grab a drink somewhere quieter?"

Your eyes searched his for a moment before a smile bloomed across your face.

"I'd love to"

you said, and with that, Jack felt like he had scored the most important goal of his life.

Jack's heart swelled with excitement as he led you to a quieter table in the back of the bar, the soft glow of a nearby candle casting a warm light on your features. As the conversation shifted from the game to more personal topics, he found himself eager to learn everything about you. Your laughter was like music to his ears, and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your job as a sports journalist made his chest tighten with a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. With every sip of your drink, the tension between you grew, the air thick with unspoken desire. When you reached out to touch his hand, Jack felt a jolt of electricity run through him. He gently laced your fingers with his, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soft caress that sent a shiver down your spine. As the bar closed its doors and the last patrons shuffled out, Jack knew that this night was far from over. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered,

"Would you like to come back to my place to continue this?"

You nodded, your breath hitching with anticipation, and together, you stepped into the cool night, hand in hand, ready to explore the undeniable connection that had ignited between you.

As you stepped out into the night, the cool air seemed to heighten the heat between you. Jack's hand was firm yet gentle as he guided you to his waiting car, the sleek lines and gleaming finish a testament to his success. The ride to his apartment was a whirlwind of anticipation, the soft jazz playing in the background doing little to mask the palpable tension. When you finally arrived, Jack led you up to his penthouse suite, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights. Inside, the space was tastefully decorated with a blend of modern luxury and cozy comfort, reflecting a side of him that was both sophisticated and down-to-earth. He mixed you a drink, his movements precise yet unhurried, all the while keeping his eyes on you as if he couldn't bear to look away. With the drink in hand, he led you to the couch, sitting close enough that your legs brushed against each other. The conversation turned to personal anecdotes, shared hopes, and dreams, each word drawing you closer together until the space between you was charged with a silent understanding that the night was about to take a passionate turn. The moment Jack's hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer for a tender kiss, the dam broke and the flood of desire that had been building all evening spilled over into a kiss that left you both breathless. His hands slid down to your waist, gently tugging you onto his lap, and as your bodies melded together, it was clear that the bond formed over a shared love of hockey was only the beginning of something much more profound and intense.

As the kiss deepened, Jack's hands explored the curves of your body, his strong arms wrapping around you securely. Your own hands roamed up his back, feeling the muscles that had propelled him to victory on the ice just hours ago. The passion grew with every touch, every taste, and soon the need to be even closer overwhelmed them both. He stood up, lifting you with him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, never breaking the connection of your lips. The rest of the night was a blur of whispers and gasps, of clothes being shed and bodies entwined. The intimate dance of your limbs was a beautiful symphony that spoke of a connection that went beyond mere physical attraction. The smutty, steamy details of that night are yours to imagine, filled with the raw, unbridled passion of two people discovering the depth of their love for one another. But it was in the tender moments after, as you lay tangled in his arms, that Jack knew this wasn't just a one-night stand. In the soft glow of the moonlit room,

he whispered, "I think I'm falling for you," and felt your smile against his chest as you whispered back, "I think I've already fallen."

The promise of a future together, filled with love, laughter, and endless nights of passion, lay just on the horizon, as the sun began to rise on a new chapter of their lives intertwined by fate and the love of the sport that had brought them together.

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

Warnings: Smut (kissing, stripping, oral) inappropriate language, detailed sex, Cole x reader

Cole Sillinger, a promising young player for the Columbus Blue Jackets, had just scored the winning goal in a nail-biting game against the Detroit Red Wings. The roar of the arena crowd washed over him as he skated around the rink, his teammates slapping his back in congratulations. Among the sea of faces, he caught yours. Your eyes locked with his, and even from a distance, he could see the spark of excitement and passion in your gaze. You were a frequent attendee of his games, always sitting in the same spot, but tonight was different. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to know you, to bridge the gap between the ice and the stands.

After the game, as the adrenaline began to wear off and the buzz of victory hummed through the arena, Cole made it a point to find you. He had noticed you at previous games, but tonight your fiery spirit had captured his heart. He searched the crowd for the face that had haunted his thoughts during the final moments of the match. Spotting you as you made your way to the exit, he quickly shed his gear and rushed over, hoping to catch you before you disappeared into the cold night. With a mix of nervousness and excitement, he approached you, his breath misting in the chilly air. 

"Excuse me," he began, "I couldn't help but notice how much you enjoyed the game. Mind if I buy you a drink?"

 He offered a charming smile, his eyes never leaving yours, and you, taken aback by his sudden appearance, felt a thrill run down your spine. After a brief hesitation, you accepted, not quite believing that the star of the game was asking you out. This was the beginning of a whirlwind romance that neither of you could have anticipated.

As you walked out of the arena with Cole by your side, the electricity between you was palpable. You could feel his strong hand gently guiding you through the throngs of fans, his eyes never leaving yours. He led you to a nearby sports bar, one that was frequented by the team after home games. The moment you entered, the buzz of the crowd grew louder, and you realized that everyone knew who he was. Despite the attention, his focus remained solely on you, making introductions to his teammates feel like a private moment amidst the public celebration. He was charming and attentive, making you laugh with stories from his days in the minor leagues and asking about your life with genuine interest. The chemistry was undeniable, and as the night grew later, the conversation grew more intimate. His hand found yours under the table, sending waves of heat through your body, and when he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, you felt a shiver of anticipation. The tension grew until it was almost unbearable, and when he suggested you go to his place to continue the night, you couldn't resist.

As you stepped into the warmth of his luxurious apartment, the tension between you and Cole thickened. The air was charged with unspoken desires, and the silence that followed the closing of the door was deafening. He took off his jacket, revealing the broad shoulders and chiseled abs that had been hidden beneath his jersey. You felt a flutter in your stomach as he turned to you, his gaze intense and filled with longing. Without a word, he took your hand and led you to the living room, the soft lighting casting shadows across his features, making him look every inch the hero you had watched from the stands. As he poured you a drink, his movements were deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. He handed you the glass, the touch of his fingers against yours sending a jolt of electricity through you. With a soft smile, he leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as he whispered,

 "Thank you for agreeing to come with me." 

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment all night, all season, all his life. The kiss deepened, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if he could meld your bodies together. You melted into him, the feel of his strong embrace making your knees weak. The passion that had been simmering beneath the surface of your interactions all night boiled over, and you knew that this was the start of something incredible.

With the kiss still lingering on your lips, you felt a surge of emotion and desire that you had never experienced before. You set your drink down and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the connection between you. His hands began to roam, caressing your back and waist, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. You could feel his heart racing in sync with yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both. As the kiss grew more passionate, he gently picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, never breaking the contact between your mouths. Once there, you felt the softness of his bed beneath you as he laid you down, his body hovering over yours. He peeled off your jacket, revealing the jersey you had worn to support him, the number 4 proudly displayed across your chest. He traced the number with his fingertips, a look of admiration and affection in his eyes. You could feel his warmth, his strength, and his need for you, and it was all you could do to not let the anticipation overwhelm you. With each touch, each kiss, the barriers between you crumbled away, leaving only raw, unbridled passion. As you both lost yourselves in the heat of the moment, you knew that this was the beginning of a love story that would be as unforgettable as the games you watched from the stands.

Without wasting another moment, Cole's hands began to explore the soft fabric of your jersey, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. You reciprocated, your hands eager to feel the muscles beneath his shirt that had worked so hard to win the game. The material of your clothes became a barrier to the connection you craved, and with a mutual understanding, you both began to undress each other. Each layer that was removed revealed more of the other's beauty, and the anticipation grew. As you lay together, skin against skin, the intensity of your kisses grew, your bodies moving in a silent dance of desire. He caressed your bare skin with a tenderness that surprised you, considering the fiery passion that had brought you to this point. His touch was like a brand, marking you as his, and you reveled in the feeling. His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, and with a gentle tug, he began to peel them away, exposing the lacy underwear that matched the passion in your eyes. You watched as he took in the sight of you, his eyes dark with desire, and felt a rush of power knowing that you could evoke such a reaction from this powerful man. With trembling hands, you reached for his belt, the sound of it unbuckling echoing through the quiet room. The heavy thud of his jeans hitting the floor was the only sound that broke the silence as you both became lost in the sensations of your first, intimate touches. His hand brushed against your inner thigh, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp into his mouth. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would finally be one with the man whose face you had watched from the stands, whose name was etched in your heart. As the final pieces of clothing fell away, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Cole's hand traveled further up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the lace of your panties, sending a delicious tremor through your body. He paused, seeking permission with a question in his gaze, and you nodded, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. With a soft groan, he hooked his fingers under the lace and slowly began to pull it down, revealing your most intimate secrets to his hungry eyes. You watched as he took in the sight of you, his pupils dilating with desire. He leaned down, pressing feather-light kisses along the inside of your thigh, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. As his kisses grew closer to your center, your body responded instinctively, arching towards him. His mouth found yours again in a passionate kiss as he gently parted your legs, settling himself between them. The weight of his body pressing down on you was intoxicating, and you could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, against your stomach. Your hands roamed his broad back, pulling him closer, silently begging for more. His touch grew bolder, his fingers exploring the wetness that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, and you gasped as he began to circle it with the pad of his thumb, the pressure building, making you squirm beneath him.

With a groan of desire, Cole's mouth left yours and began a scorching trail down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he moved lower. His hands cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples into hard peaks before taking one into his mouth, his tongue flicking and swirling as you moaned in pleasure. His other hand remained between your legs, his thumb now pressing firmly against your clit as his fingers slipped into the warm, wet pussy. He stroked you gently, feeling you quiver at the intrusion. Your hips rocked against his hand, urging him deeper, faster, as the ache inside you grew. He kissed and nipped his way down your body, his eyes never leaving yours, the connection between you stronger than ever. When his mouth reached your pussy, you felt a jolt of excitement, and your hands tangled in his hair as he began to lick and suck with an enthusiasm that left you breathless. His tongue danced around your clit, flicking and teasing before diving into your wetness, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that had you on the edge of ecstasy. As he worked his magic, you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap. And then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he slid two fingers inside you, his thumb still working its magic on your clit. The combination was exquisite, and with a cry that was a mix of pleasure and relief, you shattered into an orgasm that left your body trembling.

He looked up at you, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you.

 "That's just the beginning"  he murmured, his voice low and seductive. 

He kissed his way back up your body, his mouth claiming yours once again. His hard dick pressed against your thigh, and the need for him was overwhelming. He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes, making sure you were ready for what was to come. With a gentle push, he entered you, filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. You gasped as he began to move, his hips setting a rhythm that was both torturously slow and maddeningly perfect. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. His hands were everywhere, caressing your breasts, tracing the curve of your hips, as he claimed your body over and over again. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps of pleasure. His dick was a relentless force inside you, hitting all the right spots, making you feel more alive than you had ever felt before.

As your passion grew, so did his, and you could feel his muscles tensing, his movements growing more erratic. You dug your nails into his back, urging him on, your pussy tightening around him. He groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, and with one final, powerful thrust, he reached his peak, filling you with his hot release. You felt the warmth of his cum deep inside you, and it triggered another orgasm, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. As you both came down from the high, he collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. Your hearts raced together, your bodies entwined, as you whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears. In that moment, you knew that you had found something special, something that transcended the games and the cheers of the arena. This was real, raw, and all-consuming love, and you were ready to face whatever came next with Cole Sillinger by your side.

[jackethockey]

baby fever (luke hughes x gf!reader)

summary: short blurb where the reader has baby fever and asks luke to have a kid

warnings! none

a/n: currently working on a long luke fic but wanted to post smth and this just came to my brain

wc: 0.5k

You were lying in bed with your boyfriend, Luke, after a long roadie. You had your head on his chest, your whole body wrapped around his as he gently stroked your back. You were holding onto him for dear life like you were afraid he would leave again if you let go. The spark in his eye when you looked up at him however, told you he was here to stay. The tv was playing in the background, some sitcom the two of you had been watching, but you were both focused on your phone. You were scrolling through tiktok, his eyes on your screen. Luke loved when you would do this because your for you page was filled with edits of himself, and he would never admit it but he loved them. You had just scrolled past a movie clip, landing on a video of a dad trying to teach his baby to say ‘I love you’ with the mother behind the camera. Your heart beamed watching the small child babble and stutter until she found the words. Her laugh when her dad picked her up and spun her around was enough to make you melt. You pouted your lips at the screen affectionately before moving yourself to prop up in front of Luke, your hands on either side of his torso.

“Can we have one?” You pouted and gave him the puppy eyes as he stroked the back of your head gently. His eyes widened with a mix of shock and fear in an instant.

“One what?” He asked, tilting his head and smiling.

“One of these.” You held your phone up to his face, biting your lip in anticipation.

“I- no.” He shook his head, holding a small smile. 

“Please?” You pleaded, frowning as you placed your phone down, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“No.” He laughed out at your attempts to persuade him.

“Why?” You groaned out, throwing your head back in playful frustration. Luke only chuckled, pulling your head back up to face him.

“Because,” He grabbed your left wrist and held it up, pointing to your ring finger. “I gotta put a ring on it first.” You smiled softly at him, sending a race of butterflies to his stomach. 

“What? You don’t want a shotgun wedding?” You giggled, moving your face closer to his.

“No, not particularly.” He grinned, following your motion to move in closer.

“Well whens,” You held up your wrist which still had Luke’s grasp around it, pointing to your ring finger again. “This gonna happen?” Luke smiled, intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you closer until your lips were ghosting.

“Soon, baby. Real soon.” His voice just above a whisper as he pulled you in for a soft kiss, gently biting your bottom lip. 

“Promise?” You whispered, barely moving away from his lips.

“I promise.” He placed a gentle kiss on your nose before pulling you back into his hold, lying down. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Lukey.” You mumbled into his chest, slowly feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

[jackethockey]

evening embrace | jack hughes

warnings: oral (m! & f! receiving) aka 69 BABYYYY!!!!! whiny jack, silly jack, established realtionship af, very domestic pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader request: "jack hughes coming home from practice or a game all grumpy and frustrated and just ranting endlessly about whatever is pissing him off so u just casually decide to give him head mid-rant. without a word you just start palming him over his pants while he’s mid sentence and he’d be like “baby, what are you doing?” and you’d casually make your way to your knees with a shrug and say “you’re stressed, seem like you could use some relief” and once you’ve got his dick out and you’re about to bring it to your lips you’d say “you can continue with your ranting baby, promise i won’t get distracted” with an innocent little pout i-" wc: 4423

Jack had a bad day. The Devils just had their first few preseason games and Jack, although he felt ready to get back into his normal routine, feels like his shoulder injury from last season is still a little tender. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment that he snapped, but he thinks that he blacked out around the time when he missed a pivotal pass that resulted in a breakaway and goal in the game today. He’s never been so angry after a game– and this is just preseason.

He bursts through the door to your shared apartment, already ranting. 

“This is shit,” Jack complains, dropping his bags in the doorway and kicking off his shoes. 

“What’s shit, Jacky?” You ask from the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and reading a book. Now that he’s home, though, you set the book down and give him your attention.

“I’m not playing good enough,” Jack huffs out, frustrated and annoyed. “It’s my stupid shoulder. I’ve rehabbed it, I’ve gotten it fixed through surgery, and I still feel like I’m not playing at 100%.”

“Aw, honey, come sit,” you say, patting the cushion beside you. 

Jack stalks over, collapsing onto the couch cushions and pulling you onto his lap. He kisses you hello before going back to his ranting. 

“I knew I needed to work more on my wrister before the game,” he says. “But Keefe wanted us to run drills at camp so that we could be better all-around.”

You hum when you need to, but Jack’s just complaining and pouting. He had a tough day and wants to get all of his negative thoughts out, knowing that you don’t mind listening to him when he has problems.

“And I appreciate being a good team all-around, you know,” Jack continues. “But there should be times during practice when a guy can go work on his own shit, which will make the team better overall once he’s perfected the skill.”

“Maybe you can talk to Nico about that,” you murmur, tracing the letters on Jack’s shirt. 

“I don’t want to be that guy,” Jack grumbles. “It’s a team sport. If Keefe wants us to practice as a team, then that’s what we’ll do. He’s the coach.”

You nod absentmindedly, adjusting yourself on Jack’s lap. Your hand continues to pet over his covered chest as he talks. His muscles are defined; it’s clear that he put in the work during his time off. You know he did, actually. You’ve watched his body swell and gain muscle mass over the summer and you’ve been able to see the changes up close and personal.

But not this past week: training camp started and Jack has been so tired and stressed out that he’ll come home, eat dinner with you, and collapse into bed with nary a makeout sesh anywhere. He’s been too tired to get off with you, although you know it relaxes him and helps him keep his mind clear, so you haven’t pushed.

Yet, as he talks about his day, you can’t stop thinking about how much better this would be if your lips were wrapped around his dick.

Your hand drops to his lap, palming his length over his shorts and interrupting Jack’s sentence.

He catches your wrist. “Baby, what are you doing?” Jack asks. “I’m talking to you.”

You blink up at him innocently, moving from his lap and sliding down to the ground. You situate yourself prettily on your knees, right between his thighs. Again, you touch the front of his shorts, rubbing the area like you’re giving him a handjob over his pants. “You seem stressed,” you tell him, simply. “Like you could use some relief.”

Jack’s mouth is agape, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “I– um, yeah, I mean, I guess I’m stressed,” he replies, agreeing with you with an additional nod.

“Let me help,” you offer, cupping his bulge with your hand before leaning in to brush a fleeting kiss against the growing tent. You mouth along for a moment before bringing his waistband down, revealing his tight boxer-briefs. His semi is much more noticeable in just the underwear, straining more against the fabric as he grows harder. You fit your lips over the tip of his cock and suck slightly, through his shorts, just to make Jack jump.

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, touching the back of your neck hesitantly. He moves like he’s still confused and not quite sure what’s happening.

“Keep talking, baby,” you say to him as you pull his length out of his underwear and start to stroke it. You press a kiss to the crown of his cock, then pull back. “I’m listening. I promise I won’t get distracted.” You blink up at him through your eyelashes, watching countless emotions pass over Jack’s face before you kitten-lick over his slit and hum in approval. 

“It’s just hard,” Jack says, his eyes still wide and blown because of the shock that came over him when you made your bold move. “To, uh–”

He trails off, gesturing helplessly as your tongue traces the veins on the underside of his cock. You hum, bobbing your head in a commiserating, blatantly sarcastic nod. You know what you’re doing to him. You know that Jack goes boneless whenever you suck him off, that he promptly loses his words when you gag on his cock. 

So, you pull away from him. You let your spit pool where it lay while your lips were around him– able to use it as lube as you pump him, blinking up at him like you’re unimpressed. “C’mon, J. I thought you had things to be frustrated about.”

“I do!” Jack exclaims, finding his words after your mouth parts from his body.

“Oh, you do,” you repeat, a smug little smile on your face. “So tell me about it.”

“I– well– it doesn’t matter now,” Jack whines, his hips twitching under your calm palm. 

You furrow your brow and tilt your head to the side. “It doesn’t?”

Jack covers his face with his hands and makes a frustrated noise.

“Well, if that doesn’t matter, then why am I doing this?” You ask, feigning complete confusion even as you continue to stroke him. Jack has obviously gotten side tracked– and the relief of your mouth is like a wet rag on a dry erase board: it wipes everything completely clean and fresh. “I thought I was offering you something sweet to make up for your bad day.”

“You are, just– stop stopping!” 

You move your head from side to side with each word in your response: “You can’t make me!”

At a stalemate, Jack deflates. He frowns to himself, then pointedly at you. You’re still stroking him, just teasing him, waiting for him to sweetly ask you to continue until–

Jack pulls you up onto the couch and takes your place, sinking to the ground on his knees with his pants and underwear pooling around his ankles. He doesn’t bother to take his clothes off before he touches your leggings reverently with a light ghosting of his fingertips. He brushes a sweet kiss against the inside of your thigh as he touches you, but the sweetness and teasing doesn’t last very long.

“How was your day?” Jack asks with a smirk and another kiss to your covered skin. He pulls at the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down your legs in a totally obvious way.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you warn.

“Not doing anything,” Jack teases. 

“Don’t lie to me, Jack Hughes.”

“Full name,” Jack notes offhandedly. He licks his lips and rubs his thumb along your slit, still covered by your godforsaken panties. If he’s going to do something, he had better do it. “Just giving my baby a taste of her own medicine,” he adds.

“My day was fine, thank you very much,” you retort.

Jack hums, fiddling with the edge of your panties, the part of the underwear that’s covering his favorite part of you. “What’d you do?” He asks.

“I showered,” you say.

“Without me,” Jack adds. You don’t have time to berate him for acting like a fuckboy– not when he starts mouthing over your hipbones until he finds the waistband of your panties. He takes the band between his teeth and drags the fabric down to meet your leggings. All the while, he stares up at you with his own wide, blown, horny eyes. 

“And I had breakfast, then I worked for a while, then I got lunch with my coworker like I told you about last night–” You continue, but Jack interrupts, pulling away from your bare cunt.

He pouts a bit. “What coworker?” Jack asks. “Who was it again?”

You muster the courage to glare at him. Jack just grins, his thumb sweeping through your folds like he hasn’t got a care in the world. 

“Sadie,” you remind him. “The new girl in accounting.”

“Oh, Sadie,” Jack drawls, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “How could I forget about Sadie?” He smiles at you briefly to show that he’s messing with you, then nears your mound. “What did you eat?” He asks, just before replacing his thumb with the tip of his tongue, pride written all over his face as you take a deep breath.

“We got those Mediterranean bowls you like,” you say. You don’t tell him that there’s one in the fridge waiting for him.

“Without me,” Jack repeats, sounding a little more forlorn than the first time. Who knew that showering without your boyfriend would be less titillating than a Mediterranean bowl from that place down the street?

Regardless, you still don’t tell him about your little surprise in the kitchen.

“Without you,” you agree. “I can’t always be with you, you know.”

“Mhm, and it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever had to go through,” Jack says, using his thumbs to pull your lips apart so he can really dig in and lavish your cunt. Jack drinks up the gasp that leaves your mouth when his tongue twirls against your clit, then drops lower to press against your entrance. Jack presses a kiss against your entrance before his tongue really works into you, rendering him quiet.

You know he expects you to continue speaking, just as you expected him to continue. One thing you’ve always been better at than Jack is compartmentalizing– you swear it comes with the territory of being a woman compared to being a man– but you’ve missed this so much that you don’t care about his gloating that will come later. 

“Jack, come–”

You interrupt yourself with a breathy gasp, hands flying to his hair. Jack has always loved when you tug at the brown waves adorning his head, so the heady look in his eyes when he looks up at you is no surprise. It’s also no surprise that your gasp has Jack flattening his tongue and showering your cunt with attention.

You had meant to ask him to come back up onto the couch, wanting him to be comfortable, but Jack doesn’t seem to care. You still want him to fill your mouth. There’s a trace of his salty precum on your tongue and the absence of his cock on the muscle leaves you writhing. 

He eats you out messily, getting your juices all over his lips, cheeks, and chin. When he pulls away to catch a breath, you admire how his chest heaves with the effort to fill his lungs before diving back in and the way he licks his lips. You grip his hair, tugging slightly to get his attention, and then Jack’s disheveled baby blues are back on you. He smiles dopily, moving to wrap his lips around your clit, but before he can, you speak.

“Come up here,” you implore, tugging at his hair again. 

“Wanna stay here,” Jack replies, succeeding in his efforts to reconnect with your core this time. 

Despite the shockwaves flying through your body at his powerful suction, you remain steadfast. You’re even able to string a sentence together that has Jack pausing: “Please, J, wanna suck you too,” you complain.

It isn’t long until Jack thinks of a joke to refute you. “Baby, I’m 86, not 69.”

“Jack,” you complain, tugging his hair again indignantly as he laughs against your cunt, enjoying his own joke. “Not funny.”

“Very funny,” Jack mumbles, fitting a finger inside of you and thumbing over your clit in the absence of his mouth. You’re grinding down against him now, not nearly full enough or satisfied enough. Jack’s smirk tells you that there’s more coming. “You want to have my cock in your mouth so bad that you’ll do your least favorite sex position on the couch?”

You groan. Of course he remembered the conversation he walked in on when you had your girlfriends over a couple of months ago– a lengthy, very detailed, very philosophical conversation about which sex positions are practical and impractical, as well as what places are more practical than others. 

You don’t suck Jack off as he eats you out often. It’s not something you ever really feel the need to do, even though Jack has admitted to loving the way you’ll moan against his cock and rock back into his mouth like you’re unsure which is better. The reason you don’t do it often, though, is that you can rarely finish like that. And Jack, being the doting, pussy-drunk boyfriend he is, would rather have you in a position where you’ll come all over his cock or his face rather than struggle to make it to your destination.

As for the couch, you’ve always thought that it’s more fun to ride Jack and distract him from whatever he’s watching on the TV, or for him to bend you over the edges of the furniture to pound into you from behind.

But today– today, you’re confident that you can finish. It’s been over a week since Jack felt like doing anything and you’re needy. You’re not ashamed of it, either– you love your boyfriend and the passion shared between you both is enough to steam up the windows of the apartment. It’s no secret that Jack does everything he can to make you feel good.

Which is how you’re going to convince him to get back on the couch and fill you completely, please you from both ends until you’re boneless and smothering him with your cunt– “The ideal way to die,” according to Jack, and all of his friends who insisted he was right when he dared to bring up sex at one of the parties on the lake house the previous summer. 

“Jack,” you say, simple and plain. You lean forward on the couch, reaching down to cradle his face in your palms. Your hands get sticky with your own slick, but it’s no big deal. After all, you’d already touched Jack’s dick, so it’s not like your hands are clean. You press a fleeting kiss to his nose, making Jack grin widely. “Wanna sit on this pretty face,” you tell him. “While I gag on your cock.”

“Mm, yeah?” Jack asks. The way he perks up is laughable: if he was a dog, he’d be wagging his tail. “Gonna come in my mouth while I come in yours?”

You shiver at the thought of a simultaneous orgasm– your own warmth and relaxation taking over your body while Jack fills you up. You nod slightly, biting your lip to hold back a needy whine. Your eyelashes flutter as you watch Jack stand from his spot between your legs. 

He lays on the couch, his head resting on a throw pillow for some extra leverage. He makes himself comfortable, and it’s a little silly that both of you still have your shirts on, but Jack sticks out his tongue and waves you forward. The position makes you laugh, combined with his antics, so you make a silly move of your own. 

You crawl towards him, across the couch, trying to look like Sophie in Mamma Mia while she and Sky sing ‘Lay All Your Love on Me,’ but there’s no music playing. It’s just you and Jack and your soft little giggles, which are eventually quieted by a sweet kiss and a swipe of Jack’s tongue against your own. You can taste yourself on him and he can taste himself on you, which has Jack smiling into the kiss. His teeth clink against yours for a second, then he pats your hip and you pull away.

“Come have a seat, baby,” Jack invites, unable to wipe the grin off of his face. You shake your head and avert your eyes, blushing a little bit at how giddy you’ve made him with just a few kisses, some attention to his cock, and access to your pussy.

“Forgotten all about your bad day?” You tease.

“It turned out okay, I think,” Jack replies with a wink. He keeps his hands on your body as you turn, then line yourself up with his mouth. You’ve got the perfect view of his cock in this position, standing up and red for you, just waiting for you to lean forward and welcome him into the warm wetness of your mouth.

Jack hasn’t waited to admire you. He’s already sloppily mouthing at your lips, sliding his tongue against your clit. He has his arms looped around your thighs, hands planted squarely on your ass. He grips your cheeks and spreads them so that he can pull you back further and work his tongue inside of you. For your hesitation, he gives your clit a little nip to encourage you forward. It doesn’t hurt, but it does surprise you, and you let out a hushed yelp. Jack giggles before returning to your entrance, prodding at you.

You bend forward, laying across Jack’s body and holding yourself up by laying your forearms on his abdomen. Your left hand pets over the skin on his hip while your right holds his base steady. You gather some spit in your mouth before letting it drip onto his slit. The fluid drips down his cock, but you’re determined to replace your spit with ropes of his cum.

You take him in your mouth as far as you can, moaning when his tip nudges the back of your throat. He twitches in your mouth, involuntary but welcome. You love when he’s unable to control his reactions, doubling down on his enthusiasm at your core. 

You can feel yourself dripping all over Jack’s face. His hands are strong on your hips, pulling you back to grind against his mouth. Taking an arm from around your thigh, he brings his fingers back to your core, sliding two inside of you while he focuses on your clit. 

He’s so messy and he keeps making slurping sounds because he’s so into it, which is completely not sexy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You treasure the moans and hums that follow the unattractive slurping– Jack’s voice has grown high-pitched and needy, completely intoxicated by your taste.

You imagine him now, cheeks flushed just as pink as yours. Hell, his lips are probably swollen and the same shade of red as his tip. 

You bring a hand up to move your hair to one side of your head, the strands brushing Jack’s thigh and tickling him slightly. It’s necessary for you to give this blowjob your full attention, and you can’t have your hair getting in the way now, not after you’ve been missing Jack’s cock for a full week.

No, you’re just as drunk as he is, moaning and gagging and humming. You pull out all the stops– leaving his cock to kiss over his balls and suck at the skin while you pump his member. Jack’s always enjoyed that extra touch, his hips jumping uncontrollably into your space for the second time tonight.

“Wanna fuck my face?” You ask, words coming out in a rush. 

Jack keens beneath you, holding you closer. He pumps his fingers inside you quickly, working a third into your hole and curling his knuckles until he finds your sweet spot, making you moan wantonly. His hips are moving again, wiggling beneath you until you bring your lips back to his tip. You press a kiss against his slit before opening your mouth as wide as you can, hollowing your cheeks against his shaft until Jack starts to move.

He’s quick like a jack-hammer. His movements are twitchy and shallow because, as you’ve said time and time again, Jack has never been the world’s greatest multitasker. He’s able to perform well on the ice, very athletically minded and capable, but when his mind gets all foggy and sex-crazed, he’s completely helpless. 

He chases his pleasure wildly. He continues to make his sweet, pretty whimpers against your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit as fast as he can manage while also fingering you and fucking into your mouth– he’s working overtime and his chest is heaving with harsh breaths. You take it, even rolling your hips against his fingers to try and help him out. 

You’d feel bad about making him do all the work, but you’ve known since the beginning of your relationship how Jack feels about making you come: he loves it. It’s better than his own release. He always wants you to come over his tongue or make a mess all over his cock or fingers.

“Baby, baby,” Jack whines against your clit, his lips brushing the nerves as he talks. “Fuck, gonna come, please, please–”

“Uh-huh,” you hum, the best response you can give with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The vibrations send Jack over the edge and he lurches beneath you, pulling his fingers from your hole and replacing them with his tongue. He switches, putting his thumb on your clit and rubbing furious circles until you’re writhing above him.

You’re able to swallow a mouthful of his cum before you have to squeeze your eyes shut and focus on your own orgasm, milliseconds away from breaking down the dam inside of you. You pull off of Jack’s cock and pant above him, continuing to stroke him through his climax. 

Your eyes are a little teary from the ecstasy coursing through your veins, fueled completely by Jack’s rapid movements and equally frequent muffled pleas. He can’t stop begging you to release all over his face, even with his tongue inside of you. You can’t focus on what he’s saying, but his voice is wrecked and bordering on distressed. That’s how bad he needs you to come, how badly he needs to make you come.

His jaw has got to be aching by this point, having eaten you out for so long, but you’re so close.

You sit up a bit, just enough that you can place your hands on his muscular thighs and grind back against his face. Your hips are quick, messy, and inconsistent. “Jack,” you cry out, your breath leaving you like a hard fall to the ground knocking all the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, yeah,” he encourages, his tongue flicking over your walls.

You come harder than you ever have like this– maybe harder than you ever have in general. Jack holds you against him and laps at your release, despite the pleasure causing your hips to jerk and try to escape. You lose track of yourself, feeling completely gone. There’s a chance you’ll have to wash the couch cushions later, with the way you’re spreading slick over Jack’s face. It feels endless, your orgasm, and you think Jack may have actually made up for a week of nothing in just one night. 

He licks over you until there’s nothing left for him to taste. His hair has gone wild, eyes bright but groggy and hazy at the same time. You’re sure you look the same, unwilling to find yourself in the mirror across the room when you roll off of Jack and find a shaky footing on the floor. Your shirt is damp with sweat, as is Jack’s. He lifts the neckline to wipe the lower half of his face, dazed. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, placing a hand over his heart. His eyes look up at you, a slight smile lifting the edges of his lips. “That might be the closest I’ve ever gotten to dying from your pussy, baby.”

You laugh at that, running your fingers through your hair. “I think we both need a shower,” you say with an easy smile. 

Jack yawns. “Then bed?” He asks. 

“If you don’t fall asleep on me right here,” you reply, nodding at his body as it lounges on the couch. You thought you were bad with going boneless– Jack seems to have sank into the cushions. The sight is hilarious– your boyfriend, completely love drunk and smiling up at you like you’re an angel, with his shirt still on but no pants and no underwear. His dick has softened against his hip, the cum you didn’t swallow drying against his skin. “With your dick out and all. Any burglar would run the other direction.”

“You don’t think he’d be impressed?” Jack sits up just enough to look at his length. 

“Maybe not in this state.”

“I’ll just have to explain to him that my girl fucked me so good that I couldn’t move anymore,” Jack ponders with a shrug. He laughs to himself, eyes hooded but blinking slowly at you.

“Well, you did come first,” you agree. You reach out and take his hands, dragging him up to a sitting position, then up to his feet. 

Jack stumbles into you, petting over your rat’s-nest of a head of hair and pressing a series of kisses all over your face.

“Gross, gonna have to do extra skincare tonight,” you pout, pushing him away. 

Jack continues making kissy noises as you pull him towards your shared bedroom, depositing him in front of the shower so that he can start the water while you grab new clothes for the both of you and go to the bathroom. 

He feels you up in the shower until you’re both laughing and covered in suds, unable to keep your lips from the other person’s for longer than a couple of minutes. He makes his hair into a shampooed mohawk just to make you giggle again. His displeasure from earlier in the night is completely gone, and you couldn’t be more glad. 

notes: this is one of my favorite fics i've ever written, so i hope y'all enjoyed!!