#hockey fic

[oraltraditionfiction]

We listen and we don’t judge | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: You and Quinn do the We Listen and We Don't Judge challenge.

WC: 453

Author's Note: Tbh we're not really on tiktok, but we thought this was a cute idea!! This is my first ever fic/blurb/piece of fanfiction so I would love to hear any feedback :-) Enjoy! - 🐇

You set the camera up on the kitchen counter, swiping under your eyes before backing up to Quinn. 

“Ok! Are we ready?” You say, clapping your hands together. Quinn nods, arms slung around you and an indulgent smile on his face. 

“This is the weird habits thing from TikTok, right?”

You nod, laughing, as you lean forward and press play.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” You say as you spread your hands theatrically, Quinn only jumping in halfway through the sentence.

You side eye the man next to you, leaning in close to the camera, “Sometimes,” a conspiratorial whisper, “I cheer for the Bruins when you aren’t home.”

Quinn drops his arms from around you, and turns towards you wide eyed, “Babe, that’s practically treason… they’ll kill you…” you laugh and shove him lightly, a finger in front of your mouth to mime secrecy. 

“Ok your turn!” you push him forward.

“We listen and we don’t judge!” said together.

He chuckles, rubbing his neck, “Sometimes I use your face towel as a hand towel” You whirl towards him in shock, hitting his arm with the back of your hand. 

“Quinn! I have acne because of you!” He dodges your playful hits, laughing at your mock outraged face.

Through giggles you spit out, “Sometimes I dog-ear our book pages because you lost all of our cute bookmarks.” 

“Oh my god, babe, find a receipt or some shit. They don’t have to be cute” Quinn puts his head in his hands, heaving out a dramatic sigh. You laugh, tugging his hands away from his face as he thinks of his next one.

“One time I put your favorite bra in the dryer and it got ruined and instead of telling you I just bought a new one” 

You gasp, actually floored. “You told me that I had probably just missed that tag! I can’t believe you!” 

Faking indignation you turn away from him and say, “Sometimes I don’t wash our fruit before we eat it” 

“You’re going to actually give us brain worms. Oh my god, babe… we could have brain worms right now.” He says hand over his mouth, your laughter ringing out across the kitchen. 

Quinn wraps his arms around you, holding you close, “Sometimes when you aren’t here, I don’t use coasters.” You gasp, turning in his hold. He laughs as you begin gesticulating wildly, 

“Quinn, that is so bad for the wood!” You begin lecturing him, saying that his apartment is much too nice for moisture rings to be on his nice wooden coffee table. He buries his face in your neck, smothering his laughter so he can listen attentively to your voice.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Hiiii i have a request from your list if you take any at the moment.

10.. "You bought me flowers?"

Maybe Quinn x reader and he brings her glowers just because and shes overwhelmed because she never really had anyone doing that for her (besides her parents on birthdays or something) but never romantically!!

Sorry this took so long! I had two requests come in the same day I combined both prompts. 🩷

You had laid down on your sofa about two hours ago. It had been a kind of throw-away day with Quinn traveling back to Vancouver after finishing a long road series. They had encountered some bad weather and their flight had been delayed, so you had decided to catch up on some sleep while you waited for him to get back to the city since it seemed like it was going to be a late night. However, you had left your phone on the kitchen counter with the volume off, having gone to the movies the night before, so you hadn't heard any of his text notifications.

My Huggy Bear: They're finally letting us take off. I'll message you when we touch down. I love you. (2:32am)

My Huggy Bear: Have I mentioned enough that I've missed you? (2:17am)

My Huggy Bear: Oh, I said I'd message you when we got back, didn't I? 😅 (2:17am)

My Huggy Bear: I do, though, I miss you a lot. I'll be home soon. (2:25am)

My Huggy Bear: I'm guessing you fell asleep. I'm jealous. Turbulence is too bad for me to get to sleep. (2:37am)

My Huggy Bear: I'm going to leave you alone so these messages don't wake you. I love you. (2:41am)

My Huggy Bear: Finally back in BC, babe. (8:12am)

My Huggy Bear: I'm going to come by in a bit if you don't care. (8:55am)

Apparently, your body thought when you laid now that it wasn't just for a simple nap. It would be morning before you finally woke up, and that was because of the sound of your doorbell going off. Slowly, you put your feet down on the ground and shuffled to the door. Having not seen any of Quinn's messages, or even what time it was, everything was such a blur. Through the peep-hole, you'd make out Quinn's figure standing on your porch.

"Oh, hi baby," you yawned after opening the door and struggling to function after waking so abruptly.

He just looked at you and smiled, though he himself, was just as groggy as you were. "Good morning, babe."

You opened your arms for a hug and you both nearly stumbled through the door, "I'm so glad you're home!"

"So am I," he chuckled, holding on to you with his one free arm. "Did I wake you up?"

"It's okay, I didn't aim to fall asleep on the sofa, but I guess I did anyways."

"Ah, so I'm guessing you didn't see my messages."

When the two of you parted ways, you'd close the door and turn back towards him. "I never heard my-- I must have left it somewhere! I'm sorry baby!"

Again, he smiled as he watched you move about and wake up in stages. He knew you'd never ignore him on purpose (as least he hoped not) but he appreciated that you acknowledged when you had missed them. "I didn't expect you to stay awake until we landed. It's okay." Quinn stepped forward and gave you a kiss. That was when the scent of floral hit you.

"Oh, I got you something this morning," he added, bringing the bouquet up from his side. You somehow hadn't noticed, likely because of your sleepy state.

"You bought me flowers?" You asked, shocked by the gesture. "Quinny, they're beautiful!"

"I'm glad you like them," he confessed, watching as you brought them to your nose. "I just wanted to get you something, as an apology for not getting home when I wanted to."

Following a deep inhale of the fresh flowers, you'd look at Quinn concerned, "You didn't owe me an apology, baby! You can't help the weather! I'm just glad you're safe! That's all that matters to me."

"Still, I should get them for you more often. I know how much you like them."

You'd smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so sweet, but you don't have to!"

"I'll see what I can do," he winked, his forehead against yours. "I love you."

His confession took your breath away with how he had said it. His voice was low; that sleepy tone that always drove you wild. "I love you, too, Quinn. So much!"

You both would share a series of kisses --slow and passionate-- that expressed just how much you both had missed the other.

"Do you mind if I stay here with you today?" He mumbled, his lips still close to yours.

\"Of course not!"

"I don't want to drive home."

You pouted, "I don't want you to leave." In reality, you never wanted him to leave when you were together, but it was nice when he asked you if he could stay.

"Come lay down with me?"

"I'll meet you in there. I need to get these into water first." You'd give him the softest kiss to his pouty lips before he would let you walk away from him. Quinn wouldn't wander into the bedroom like you thought. Instead, he'd follow you into the kitchen and hover just over your shoulder while you worked. His arms wrapped around your waist, his lips painting kisses behind your ear and down your neck. He wasn't trying to distract you, and in truth, it would take you a lot longer to transfer the bouquet to a vase than it should have, but Quinn was always a welcomed hindrance.

"I just missed you," he whispered. "I hate being gone for so long now. It didn't affect me until I met you."

Your hands found his at your stomach, as you laid your head back on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, baby."

"Don't be. I just love you. Makes coming back to you so much nicer," he smiled as he spoke, placing one last kiss to your temple before letting you go. "That's enough sad confessions for one morning, yeah?"

You nodded, "Mhm, let's go lay down. I'll make a late lunch after."

"I'd like that, baby. Thank you."

- - -

The weeks following Quinn returning from the 6-game stretch had brought with them numerous surprises. He spent more time at your house than his apartment, more of this things dotted your place than ever had before, and most unexpected of them all were the weekly flower arrangements that showed up "just because", as he put it. He had told you that he would try to get them for you more often, and you should have known better that he wasn't talking to just hear his own voice. Sure enough, at some point through the week, on the road or in Vancouver, Quinn had flowers delivered to you with cute little love notes attached.

Your house smelled like a flower shop and was beginning to look like one as well. Each room had a vase and every time you saw one of them, butterflies tickled your heart and stomach. You hoped that Quinn knew how much each and every one of them meant to you and the meaning they held. He seemed to like them as well, always making small compliments on how nice a certain flower smelled or liking where you had placed one within the house.

He was becoming your Disney prince right before your eyes.

[puckinghischier]

thinking about comforting nico during this weird playing period.. he comes home upset and frustrated with not only the team but with himself.

he’d be so mopey, just kind of dragging around, not really saying much. mumbled answers to your questions, saying he’s not hungry, no input on what to watch. he’d kind of just go lay in your shared bedroom, headphones-in-and-staring-at-the-wall, kind of mopey.

you’d pad softly into the room, knowing you had to bust him out of the slump somehow. he had every right to be frustrated and upset, but you hated seeing your bright boy so down and dark.

he’d have his head leaned back with his eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of him with his hands resting clasped on his stomach. you softly crawl onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside of him. you poke at his soft belly a few times to get his attention.

peeking one eye open, he raises his head and removes one ear bud.

“what’s up?” he flatly asks, so unlike himself.

you smile at his fuzzy hair, his lack of properly drying it before slipping a beanie over it to leave the rink evident.

“let’s go for a drive,” you propose.

he scrunches his nose up at your suggestion, not interested in the slightest at getting back out into the cold air and riding around the city he keeps disappointing.

“not really in the mood,” he shakes his head, going to put the bud back in his ear until you grab his arm.

“please?” you give him your pouty eyes, hoping they’ll work now just like they do every other time.

reluctantly he agrees, tossing a sweatshirt on and covering his messy hair with a hat.

you bundle up yourself, slipping on a pair of comfy shoes before meeting him at the door, his hand reaching for the keys resting on the hook on the wall.

your hand beats his, though, grabbing his car keys before he can.

“you’re passenger princess tonight, bud”

he rolls his eyes, holding open the door so your smug self can walk out, making your way down to the drafty parking garage and seating yourself in the drivers seat of his lush mercedes.

pulling out of the garage, you turn the radio on to play whatever he was listening to last, some swiss rap you couldn’t understand the words to playing softly through the speakers. nico isn’t talking, just looking at the various lights and buildings as you drive through the quiet city.

most of the traffic from the game is already dispersed, giving you an easy ride to the mystery destination you didn’t tell him about.

you half expect him to figure it out based on your pattern of turns and familiar surroundings, but he must really be in his head, because when you park his car on the street outside of your destination, he’s still staring, unaware that the car even stopped moving.

“hey, neeks, come back to me,” you softly touch his arm, startling him a bit.

he looks over at you, almost like he forgot where he was, relaxing once his brain registered there was no threat. just you, looking over at him sweetly, as you always do.

“sorry, got lost thinking,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed. you smile at his accent shining on “thinking”, the subtle slip of his lips when pronouncing the word one of your favorite things about him

“s’alright. we’re here, though, so we gotta get out of the car.”

his thick eyebrows furrow in confusion, turning to look out the window to figure out where “here” is.

once he sees the familiar logo on the building right next to your parking spot, he looks back over at you.

“are they even still open?” he asks you, his tone lifting in a hopeful tone you haven’t heard for days.

you shake your head yes, trying not to grin like an idiot as his small show of excitement. “called them before we left, asked if they’d stay open a little bit longer for a special customer.”

the small, swiss owned bakery was somewhere you and nico had found on one of his few days off, simply setting out to explore the city with no plan in mind. on your lengthy walk, the sky had unexpectedly opened up, drenching both of you to your core. you ran into the closest storefront you could find, needing cover from the downpour.

the second your soaked figures trampled into the store, you were met with some of the most delicious smells you’d ever encountered in your life. the small space was empty, other than a plump older woman cleaning a display case of some of the most delicious looking pastries you’d ever seen.

“oh je!” the woman exclaimed when she saw the state of the two of you.

you thought the expression has sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it before she started speaking again.

“oh you poor kids, please, come sit, let me get you something to dry yourself,” the woman insisted, pulling out a couple of chairs at a small table, rushing off to find something dry to give you.

you heard her voice conversing with someone, a language you definitely had heard before, while you took your seat in the wooden chair.

she came back out to the two of you with warm dish towels, allowing you to at least rid your face of the excess water. nico was eyeing her suspiciously as she was bumbling about her husband making both of you a hot tea and something warm to snack on with it.

when he started speaking swiss german to her, you had no clue what was being said, but you loved the way he melted into being able to use his native language with someone who understood him and spoke it back. a tall, thin old man came out of seemingly nowhere in the middle of their conversation, two mugs of tea in hand.

the older man joined right in their conversation, his kind face just as excited as nico seemed to be.

the two of you ended up sitting in the small bakery for longer than anticipated, the rain long gone before you made your exit. the conversation had eventually switched back to english, the woman explaining how they had moved to the states many years ago, their dream of owning a bakery in the city finally coming to fruition a couple of years ago.

nico was amazed at the selection of swiss desserts they had, and praised their recipes as being reminiscent of his mothers. the couple insisted you take a whole hoard of stuff home, wanting nico to have a piece of home to enjoy.

the hidden gem ended up being a frequent weekend destination for you and nico, making a visit at least once a week when he’s home. the shop was so small and off the beaten path that nico never had to worry about someone spotting him there, going and sitting and conversing with his new friends for hours as you sat and watched their animated conversations.

you even found yourself frequenting the bakery on your own when nico was gone for any length of time, needing your own pastry fix. always being welcomed with open arms, you never left without a special pastry just for nico to have when he returned home.

which is what lead you here tonight, wanting to bring him even the smallest bit of comfort you could.

“schätz, did you really?” he uses the term of endearment you loved the most, having heard the shop owner utter it to his wife several times during your visits. “you shouldn’t have, they need their rest.”

you roll your eyes at his insistence on never wanting someone go to any extra lengths for him. he never wants anyone to be inconvenienced for his sake, even during times like these when he deserves to be made to feel special.

“hush, they insisted on it. you know how they are, too stubborn for their own good,” you wave off his concern, the concerned tone of the woman fresh in your mind when you called and explained the situation. “they even told me they were making something extra special for you tonight, so i hope you’re hungry after all that skating.”

nico doesn’t react to your words, staring at you so intently you were beginning to squirm at the gaze.

sensing your shift in body language, nico breaks the loud silence of the car.

“i love you, you know that?”

you giggled at his words, because of course you know that. he tells you all the time. every day. as often as he can.

“yes, neeks, i know that. and i love you too.”

he shakes his head slightly.

“no, i mean it. i love you so much. you…you always know what to do when i’m being a pouty mess. you never fail to make me feel better by just being you, but when you do things like this, even though i’ve been closed off and pouty this whole week because of the team and how our game is right now, even when i don’t deserve it, you still always manage to know exactly what i need.”

he grabs your hand in the middle of his small speech, needing to touch you so you can feel his words and his sentiments.

“well, you do deserve this. you always do. especially with how things have been going for you lately, because you’re giving it your all, always. and i’m proud of you. win or lose, i’m so proud of you, nico.”

you squeeze his hand in yours, emphasizing your point.

nico can’t stand how far away you are from him all of a sudden, reaching over and pulling your face across the console to meet his, consuming himself in you. the feeling of your lips on his melts away any thought in his head about his job and is filled with only you. the taste of your fruity chapstick, the softness of your face in his hands, the smell of your perfume still left over from earlier.

he tries to tease your lips open with a swipe of his tongue, but you give a small laugh as you pull yourself back.

“alright now, can’t be doing all that, now. you’ve got a hot, home cooked swiss meal waiting on you i promised some very eager people you’d be by to try ten minutes ago. don’t want them to think we flaked, do you?”

“oh god, i hope it’s traditional fondue,” he groans at the idea. “i’m sorry, baby, but this american version is shit, and i can’t pretend to like it anymore,” he completely switches up on you, taken over by the thought of food, completely unaware you’d already expressed to the owners how it was his favorite, a hot pot of the cheesy dish awaiting him behind the door he’s speeding towards.

[sc0tters]

Agreeable | Trevor Zegras

summary: when the boys decide that you and trevor can't hate each other forever, you realise he may not be all that bad.

request: yes/no

trope: enemies to lovers

warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing, minimal hints to sexual acitivies at the end.

word count: 3.84k

authors note: okay hello! this was such a fun one to write and it was also a little different in comparison to the normal enemies to lovers prompts we end up writing. This is our second to last fic in the 500 celly, and I am so glad we changed this one over to this man because I am so much happier with this one.

Trevor found this to be a trip to his own version of hell. 

The lake house was meant to be peaceful and a moment to unwind with his best friends. But that whole idea was made so much more complicated when you always decided to show up. 

Jack met you at a bar in New Jersey, and as you both came in with fake IDs, there seemed to be something that you bonded over, and the friendship hadn’t looked back since. Before you both knew it, Jack got the title upgraded from friend to best friend to then roommate. 

The forward soon started bringing you along to the lake house during the summer. Which most people loved, you knew how to hold your own in both drinking and banter. And it did help that you also were surprisingly good at pool. 

Trevor, on the other hand, wanted to send you the quickest thing to get rid of you. He didn’t care if you had to catch a cab or even hitchhike to leave, he just wanted you gone. But it wasn’t always like this, in fact, the first summer you were there. Trevor actually thought you were kind of cute. 

You were sat on the hammock as Trevor flirted with you “you sure you don’t got a man?” He asked as you let out a laugh “trust me, the only person in my bed is me.” You scrunched your nose as he looked at you. 

Trevor leaned in as he brushed the hair out of your face “think we should change that no?” His voice was soft as he let his lips dance over yours. 

The kiss was soft but as you heard the clear sounds of the boys inside you were reminded of where you were “we shouldn’t Trev.” You breathed out making him scoff “not like I would even want you.” His words were a clear dig at you, trying to be some personal attack as he got up and left you alone on the hammock. 

Now Trevor wasn’t that childish, you rejecting him wasn’t the only reason for his newfound hatred of you. Sure it hurt his ego but there was more to that than just a simple I’m not interested in you.

That night the boys had thrown a party and invited all of their friends along from the area. As fun as the night was as well, you were starting to feel the effects of one too many vodka red bulls as you made your way back to your room. 

With Jack downstairs you knew you could just walk right in “what the fuck!” A girl screamed from your bed as she immediately dropped down to lay flat against your sheet in an attempt to cover herself. 

Your eyes were wide as you froze “Z get her out.” She added looking up at the boy where your eyes finally stopped “why are you fucking someone in my bed?” You scoffed trying to ignore the fact that you had definitely just seen his dick and that he was a lot bigger than you thought he’d be. 

Truth be told he didn’t know it was your bed, but now that he did it made the whole thing just a little bit sweeter “Cole got a girl in our one.” The way he said it made it sound as though you were the weird one for bringing it up “you gonna just stand there or you wanna join us?” Trevor smirked as he saw how your cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. 

Words struggled to get out of your mouth “fuck you!” You spat as you let the door shut with a slam as you opted to go downstairs instead of dealing with him in that moment. 

Jack somehow knew not to question you as you ended up sleeping top to toe with him that night. 

It seemed from that moment on, you were both destined to hate each other. The majority of it came during those two weeks at the lake but even the roadie to New York and New Jersey seemed to fall victim to it. 

Trevor bursted into the apartment Jack never did seem to lock the door “Hughesy you will not believe who I sa-” he cut himself off as he walked into the kitchen to see you stood in front of him. 

You had woken up a few minutes before and decided to leave the warmth of your bed, for a cup of coffee “since you’re so excited why don’t you share it for the group?” You sipped at your coffee as you smirked when his face dropped “Jack is in the shower.” You explained as you placed your cup on the counter. 

You knew your nipples were hard as your body was cold. Trevor’s eyes stared at the red fabric of your top that fully encapsulated the two stiff peaks “you excited to see me?” He teased as you crossed your arms, doing your best to cover them “perv.” You grumbled grabbing your coffee to go back to your room. 

Trevor laughed “c’mon ain’t you gonna make your guest a coffee?” He honestly didn’t even want one but when you sent him a glare he knew it was worth it asking “if you’re gonna walk into this apartment like that then you can get your own coffee.” You spoke in a duh tone as you walked past Jack who had just come out of his own room. 

He frowned seeing the irritated look on your face “did you really have to be a dick to her?” He groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose “ain’t my fault she is so easy to screw with.” Trevor shrugged as he got himself a cup of coffee. 

Things never got better for the two of you because you couldn’t even learn to put up with each other. Each time the two of you were in a room, you were bound to argue at least once “why does she have to come?” Trevor whined knowing that you were stood downstairs helping Jack with drinks “because she is Jack’s friend and most of us get on with her?” Cole answered with an obvious statement. 

Of course, everyone had to love you. So as Trevor huffed as he threw his head down onto his bed, “so you all like Jamie, and I don’t bring him along to the lake.” Honestly, if Trevor was given the chance he would have asked Jamie to come along, but that wasn’t the point in that moment. 

It made Cole laugh “when you are done with whatever this is would you like to come down?” Cole’s words reminded Trevor of his mom when he was having a tantrum as a child “yeah, yeah I will.” Trevor rolled his eyes as he stared at the ceiling. 

You were downstairs playing a broken game of catch with Alex as he attempted to throw a grape into your mouth “you do know that my eyes are not where my mouth is right?” You asked as another hit the bridge of your nose “it’s not my fault you’re just short.” Alex shot back as he stuck his tongue out as you. 

Trevor came down to see how another grape had this time hit your forehead “can you seriously not find a way to entertain yourself that doesn’t involve our snacks for the boat?” Trevor’s question was logical but the way his eyes stared at you made you irritated. 

He watched you clench your fists “I mean I could throw them at you and actually make it hurt too if you’d prefer.” He offered finally making scowl at him “I will shove this up your ass if you’re not careful.” You warned making Quinn finally place his hands on your shoulders. 

The older boy clicked his tongue “and on that note why don’t we get to the boat?” Quinn mumbled guiding you out of the door.

It was meant to be a space that Trevor could finally be in peace during, but now he had to be sat there watching you get a deeper tan in the new red bikini you had brought along for the trip “just play nice Z.” Cole warned seeing how the boy had looked at you. 

But this time it didn’t seem to be that he was mad or even in the slightest bit annoyed at how you threw your shirt into a chair before you ran up to Jack who helped you onto the boat “said that I am not the problem.” Trevor muttered as he followed out to the boat. 

You had been helping Jack set up the stuff for the waterskis when the Ducks player stopped by the side of the boat “you sure this is going to be enough for you?” You asked as you held up the life jacket “pretty sure I know how to swim.” Trevor shot back as you smirked watching him get onto the boat. 

A sigh left your lips “well you know with a mouth as big as yours you might drown.” You shrugged going back to what you were doing “you been looking at me y/n?” There was a teasing sense in his voice was he clearly wanted to taunt you. 

A warmth spread across your cheeks “no-I-” you were cut off by Jack “Y’know I’m pretty sure that I can find an old getting along T-shirt that my mom used to use on Quinn and I if you two want to fight again.” His warning was enough for both of you to send each other a glare. 

If this was an action movie playing out there would have been a split screen scene that only showed your eyes turning into sharp glares “I am not fighting.” You both spoke at the same time 

Cole looked over to Alex who sighed “if I didn’t know any better I could say they had a chance.” He mumbled knowing that their words were not going to match their actions “hey as long as we’re not bringing a body back to shore then we should take it as a win.” It was clear the older boy was laughing but his words almost manifested that scene. 

There were many times that everyone thought you and Trevor were about to throw each other off of the boat, so much so that, they genuinely wondered if they were going to have to be fishing someone out of the water. And the explosiveness of the afternoon meant that everyone assumed they were dreaming as the night actually managed to calm down.

The familiar crackle of burning wood echoed in your ears as you found yourself falling asleep as the boys voices became mere background noise “I will see you in the morning.” Luke squeezed your shoulder softly waking you up. 

Your eyes blinked as nobody else seemed to notice “is it past your bedtime grandma?” Trevor teased seeing you let out a yawn “ain’t my fault you’re boring me.” You grumbled sending him a glare. 

It made him laugh as he looked at you “we can talk about all the reasons you are going to die a-” with that you cut him off “on that note I’m going to bed.” You clapped your hands together as you saw Cole come out of the house “guys this fire is dying let’s do something in here!” He called out wanting to go back inside.

You ignored the conversation opting to follow Luke inside as you wanted to go to bed as the rest of the boys went to play pool “why are you looking at me?” Trevor asked as he sipped at his beer. 

Jack was clearly beyond irritated “because could you not just try to be nice to her for one week?” Jack felt as if he was asking a shark to walk on water “if she wasn’t such a pain then maybe I would have something nice to say to her.” Trevor shrugged as he looked down at his phone. 

The middle Hughes boy realised that he was going to have to do something to put this all to a stop. Sure you and Trevor did not have to like each other, but the least you could both do is put up with each other “I think I am going to go to bed too.” Jack announced chugging back the remainder of his beer as he finally got up. 

Cole and Alex both tried to send him protests “boys we have an early start after all.” He pointed out making the older boys go quiet. As Jack let the door shut behind him, he knew he was going to have to get to plotting if he was going to enact a plan before you left for the apartment again in five days.

After you spent your morning enjoying a lie-in as the boys went for a morning skate you got to do some of the mundane luxuries that the boys didn’t give you the time to enjoy. It wasn’t even tasks that you longed for but after a coffee in silence and a bubble bath, you finally felt as if you were ready for the day and whatever arguments that Trevor would now throw your way.

The boys were setting up for the afternoon as you walked onto the deck, Jack, Alex and Cole all seemed to have mischievous looks on their faces as they saw you “do I want to know?” You asked as you placed your hands on your hips making Jack jump away “we are just talking about possibly going for a skate tomorrow.” He was quick to send you a smile as you raised your eyebrows thinking that he was hiding something from you. 

It was clear that Jack could read your suspicion on your face as he rubbed the back of his neck “I was wondering if you could go get us some more chairs from the shed though?” The question made you nod as you placed your phone on the table in front of you “I’ll come with you.” Quinn was quick to offer as he figured you could use a hand. 

Jack raised his hand to stop his brother “you can’t!” His raised voice made you both look at him, confused “I just need to ask you a question before we start grilling.” Now, this was enough to fully distract Quinn as Jack was useless with a grill and Quinn wanted to eat edible food that night. You carried on down the grass as you didn’t mind grabbing them all yourself.

You walked into the shed wanting to find more chairs “god this place is a dump.” You let out a laugh as you ran your fingers along the dusty shelf. If you wanted to find a visual definition of organised chaos that needed a clean, it would have been this place. 

You made your way to the back of the wooden building, remembering that Jack thought Quinn was stupid for putting them in the back when they’re often used. 

Unbeknownst to you, with the further you went Trevor walked in “what are you doing in here?” He scoffed seeing you through the shelf “I came to get chairs.” You spoke in a duh tone. 

It made Trevor laugh “no Jack told me to get them.” He corrected you, as if you were the idiot for already being in there. Sounds of people walking outside made your eyes go wide “Jack!” You yelled seeing the door to the shed shut with a lock. 

Cole’s laugh could be heard from out there too “I’m sorry but you two have to talk!” Jack apologised as he looked into the window seeing a sorry look in your direction. 

Trevor hit at the door as he groaned “y’know that’s not gonna work right?” You remembered the one time when you and Luke got stuck in there when the door got jammed, a locked door you assumed would come with the same or even more difficulty “how do you know?” Trevor turned and sent you a glare. 

You sat on the floor as you had also seen that the boys also took out all of the chairs “you know the door opens towards us right?” With those words, it seemed that the boy accepted defeat. 

He sat on the opposite side of you as he sighed “so how is the boyfriend?” Trevor asked as he tried to make up some kind of conversation. 

The boy was never one to shy away from just his bad he thought your boyfriend was “broke up with him in December.” You confessed “yes you can laugh all you want about my taste, get it out now and I won’t even be mad.” You motioned to him to taunt you like he loved to do so. 

But Trevor instead frowned “thought you really liked him.” You had been with him for almost four years now so it was assumed you’d be with him for even longer “well it’s hard to like someone after you catch him in bed with the biggest pain in your ass.” You were surprised that Jack hadn’t told Trevor that your boyfriend was gone, the Hughes boy hated him too. 

Trevor placed his hand on his chest “I don’t remember sleeping with a guy.” The comment made you erupt into laughter “seriously, I think I should be hurt that I am not your number one.” He added which made you laugh even harder. 

He hadn’t been someone who ever did get to say that he got to make you laugh “I have to say that you sleeping with someone on my bed and just being irritating doesn’t make you all that bad compared to some people.” You nodded as you cringed, thinking back to that time. 

Trevor sighed as he shook his head “the look on your face when you walked in.” A smile formed on his face, remembering it like it was yesterday “I made Jack let me sleep in his bed for the rest of that trip really.” Your confession made him laugh.

The boy looked at you as he thought back to the earlier conversation “why are you still single?” His question made you furrow your eyebrows “hey if we are looking into my love life let’s look at yours too.” You knew he hadn’t had a girlfriend since the weekend you met him, four years ago. 

Trevor rolled his eyes “I have been busy with hockey, what’s your excuse?” You knew his words were bullshit, Jack had his fair share of partners whilst he was in the room across from you “I want someone who makes me feel like we are perfect for each other.” The confession made your cheeks turn red. 

The boy again let a laugh escape from his lips “I knew this was stupid.” You sighed getting up as you wanted to find another way out of there. 

God he knew he was an ass “think you’d have better luck shoving your head into one of those books of yours.” The words struggled through his giggles as his chest began to hurt “hey at least I know what I want!” You snapped, letting your hand hit the wall next to you. 

It made the boy raise his eyebrows in surprise “and I’m focusing on my career!” Trevor didn’t like how your voice got so much louder “thats bullshit and you know it!” You grumbled pointing your finger at him as he got up. 

He now towered over you “god there you go bitching again.” It seemed that a switch had been flipped as you were both back to arguing with each other “and to think I was genuinely caught up about you.” The words made you laugh as it suddenly dawned on you, just how stupid you had been. 

The words made the boy freeze, “no you weren’t.” Trevor shook his head, refusing to believe you “watching you fuck someone in my bed was actually a pretty good way to shut that one down fast.” You pushed your hair out of your face. 

He managed to make you so mad “I should have fucking hated you.” Your voice was cold as you sent him a glare.

His silence you met by turning back to the door as you wondered if there was a spare key on the shelf that Jack often left his copy of “you should.” Trevor nodded, sucking at his teeth “because I hate you.” The words made you scoff as you shook your head, ignoring him. 

But Trevor didn’t stop there as his hands formed fists “I hate you so damn much.” It was then enough for you to stop searching for that ring “look I might be stupid but I am most certainly not deaf, heard ya the first time.” You snapped wanting to turn around and hit him truthfully. 

His hand gripped at your arm, finally turning you around “I hate you so much because somethings you are all that I can think of.” Your mouth went dry as he walked closer to you, making your back push up against the shelf behind you “you’re lying.” You squeaked out letting your eyes scan his face. 

There was a level of hunger in his eyes as he let out this low growl, “you’re right.” He nodded, licking his lips “you consume my damn thoughts till there isn’t any space for anything else.” Trevor’s confession made your legs feel like they turned to jelly. 

You tried to use your strength to push him away, but Trevor counteracted it as he kissed you when his hands gripped your waist. The taste of your lipgloss was still the same on his tongue as the first time that he kissed you, “tell me you still think that I’m some pain in the ass.” His words taunted you as his lips ghosted over your neck. 

A breathy moan escaped from your lips as he forced his knee between your legs “c’mon, you think you can hurt my feelings, doll?” The hockey player sucked at your earlobe “god you are insufferable.” You scoffed making him smirk. 

Trevor tucked your hair behind your ear “there's, my sweet girl.” He mumbled, dropping his lips back down to kiss yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Trevor squeezed your ass, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. His cock grew hard as he picked you up, locking your legs around his waist so he could bring you away from the door. 

Unbeknownst to you both, on the deck, the boys sat “you think we should go check on them?” Jack asked as he cracked open another beer “nah it’s about time that they sort out their shit.” Alex shook his head as he looked down in the distance, not hearing any alarming noises. 

Cole sat there in agreement “besides what’s the worst thing that they could do right?” Oh if only he knew…      

[fiapartridge]

wish you were sober | nico hischier 💌🤍🥂

"pulling me close, begging me to stay over / but i'm over this rollercoaster" - conan gray, wish you were sober

nico hischer x reader

summary: nico only loves you when he can't remember it

warning(s): drinking, pushy a little? but not that bad

wc: 3.5k

fia's notes 💌: hiii i havent written a fic in so long lol so sorry if this sucks lmfao but i go back to school tomorrow so just wanted to put something out before i leave <3

THE BASE OF the music thrummed through the house like a heartbeat, loud and relentless. It was as if it was mirroring your own. The party was packed to the brim—bodies pressed together and drinks spilling as people shouted over the noise. Had half the party not been famous hockey players, the police would have had this place shut down within the first 30 minutes. 

You lingered in the kitchen, your cup held loosely to your lips as you scanned the crowd. You sat atop the cold marble countertop, knowing exactly who you were looking for—though you told yourself you weren’t. It wasn’t your fault, though. It was like your eyes were just attracted to him. Like you could sense him from a mile away without even seeing him. He was that intoxicating. 

And there he was. Right in the middle of the room. 

Nico.

He was surrounded by his teammates, his head thrown back in laughter as he listened to some joke Jack had said. He had this effortless way of commanding attention, of making people want to be around him. Maybe it was his everpresent smile, or the way he pushed back his soft brunette hair every couple minutes, or the way he towered over anyone in his presence, like he was protecting them. Nico was always the protector. Maybe that was what drew you to him the most. 

But that was also the worst thing about him, because who was there to protect you from him?

You tried to tear your gaze away, but it was impossible. You were caught in his orbit, just like always. 

As if sensing your eyes on him, Nico turned, his dark gaze locking on yours. His lazy, drunken smirk molded upon seeing you—his best friend. You knew how this would end. Save the heartbreak—and leave. But before you could get the chance to slip away, he was making his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with the kind of determination that made your stomach twist.

Nico wasn’t a bad person. He never hurt you, or blatantly tried to make you feel bad. He was honestly the nicest guy on the team when he wasn’t making fun of your skating, or the way you try to pronounce certain German words. He was your best friend. The one guy in the whole world who you would trust with your life. But tonight, and other nights just like these, you weren’t sure who he was.

“Y/N!” he shouted, his voice bright with excitement as he reached you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, sending chills down your spine. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

You looked down towards the pulsating floorboards, turning away from his gaze. This happened—a lot. He’s your best friend one night—coming over to your apartment just so you two could watch funny TikToks at 2AM, critiquing your Tinder profile (“Your favorite dog breed is a golden retriever? That is so basic. We’re coming up with something better than that.”), and pushing you in shopping carts as you run away from angry employees—and other nights, he was like this. He was “in love” with you.

“You’re drunk, Nico,” you muttered, your heart stuttering in your chest.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want this. You’ve been wanting this since the moment you started working for the Devils and saw him walk down the tunnel in his full gear. He gave you a smile, gave you a rundown on every single player on the team—who to avoid (dating-wise), who to keep your camera on, and who gave the best answers— and wished you luck. A year later and you’re still waiting on him. It felt pathetic at this point, but every party gives you a little spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same.

“And you’re insanely gorgeous,” he countered, his grin fading into something softer but more dangerous. His hand slid to the counter beside you, nestling himself in the spot between your legs. He leaned in so close, you could feel the heat radiating off him. The move wasn’t casual—it was intentional, like he wanted to make sure you couldn’t look anywhere but him. He knew he was etched on every single fold of your brain. He knew you were his.

Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes searched yours, dark and glassy from the alcohol but holding something deeper, something that made your heart twist. It was something you’ve felt time and time before. Something out of reach, something fleeting, something unreal.

“Nico,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to inject some steadiness into it, “you’re drunk. You don’t mean that.” You never mean it.

“Don’t I, though?” he challenged. His free hand hovered near your waist, hesitating, before brushing against the fabric of your dress, sending a shiver up your spine. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You should’ve walked away, should’ve pushed him back and created distance between the two of you, but you were frozen in place, unable to move—unable to do anything. Nico Hischier, your best friend, was looking at you like you were the only person in the room, like you were something worth chasing.

And it wasn’t the first time—but it still hurt like it was.

Two weeks ago it had been the same. A late night after one of his games, Nico’s arms slung lazily over your shoulders as you sat on your couch, giving in to him. You two had just came back from a bar Mercer had coaxed you all into hitting up after the game. Nico was drunk, warm, and inviting. He’d leaned in closer than usual, his voice low as he told you how much he appreciated you, how you made everything easier, how he didn’t know what he would do without you. 

He’d kissed you that night. Just once, soft and fleeting, but enough to leave you staring at the ceiling long after he’d passed out on your couch. 

The next morning, he’d woken up with a groan, running a hand through his messy hair and complaining about his hangover. 

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” he’d said casually, like nothing happened, like your lips hadn’t still been burning from his the night before.

You had waited, hoping—praying—he’d bring it up. Hoping he’d say something. Anything.

But he hadn’t. And you hadn’t dared to either. 

Then there was last summer. Jesper Bratt’s birthday party. Nico had been drunk, but not sloppy—just enough to let his walls come down.

“You’re it for me, Y/N,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours as you sat on the back porch, ignoring the sounds of shouting and laughter from inside. “No one even comes close.”

You’d let yourself believe him, let yourself imagine for one stupid, passing moment that he meant it. 

But the next day, when you’d texted him, he responded with nothing more than a meme and a casual, “What time are you coming to the rink?”

No acknowledgement. No follow-up. Just the same old Nico, acting like your heart wasn’t caught somewhere between confusion and disappointment. 

And then there was the time he had pulled you onto his lap at a party. His hands rested on your thighs, his lips ghosting over your ear as he murmured sweet nothings, the kind of thing that made your stomach flip and your heart race.

“You’re everything, Y/N,” he’d whispered. He kissed you, allowed his arms to roam around your body, for his eyes to trail over every part of you that made you insecure. Maybe that was part of the rouse. He had pressed his lips, branded every single surface of your body, had seen all the parts of you that you absolutely hated, and somehow convinced you that they were beautiful.

But the next morning, just like all the times before, he’d acted like it hadn’t happened.

“Did you see that dog I sent you on Instagram? Gotta update that Tinder answer—that is your new favorite breed,” he’d said, flashing you that charming grin as you two sat in a diner for breakfast, like you hadn’t spent half the night replaying the way he’d held you—like maybe he actually meant it this time.

Your chest had tightened, you forced a smile and nodded, choking down your disappointment like it was something that you could just swallow and forget—but you never did, and you probably never will.

You swallowed thickly, staring at the boy in front of you. His dark, glassy eyes held yours as if searching for something—some unspoken permission, some proof that this wasn’t just a one-sided game he liked to play when the alcohol made him bold.

But you knew better by now. Didn’t you? You’d spent too many nights like this, caught between the boy who claimed you were his everything one night and the one who pretended none of it mattered the next morning.

But still, your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat when he leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours. His lips finding the soft skin of your neck, placing delicate kisses in the places he knew drove you crazy.

"Nico," you whispered, the word trembling in the air between you. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. You shouldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. "Come home with me tonight."

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn the world stopped spinning. The music faded, the room blurred, and all that existed was him—his soft brown eyes, his messy hair, the faint scent of cologne mixed with alcohol.

You wanted to say no. God, you wanted to say no. But the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing keeping him here, made it impossible. He always did this—always made you feel like you were the center of his universe for one fleeting moment before tearing it all away the next morning.

And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was because you were simply weak, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away. Not when he looked at you like this.

"Okay," you said softly, hating yourself for how easily the word slipped out.

Nico grinned, a lopsided, boyish smile that made your stomach flip despite the ache in your chest. His hand wrapped around yours, pulling you off the counter and guiding you through the crowd with an urgency that felt all too familiar. The buzz of the party seemed to drown out, replaced by the rapid beat of your heart, the quickening of your breath.

When you reached the door, Nico was already pulling out his phone, ordering the Uber without a second thought. You didn’t stop him. Maybe part of you was still caught in the warmth of his hand in yours, or maybe you were just too tired to argue.

Once the Uber arrived, the two of you slid into the backseat, his arms already encircling you as your head laid on his slow-rising chest. The peacefulness of it all made you feel both content and terrified at the same time. How was he so good at this? At making you believe that he wanted you? How was he so steady and still, knowing that he was shaking up your entire life with this moment alone.

He felt safe, and warm, and inviting. And you hated that because you knew it was wrong. This whole thing was wrong. So why couldn’t you let go?

He planted flowery kisses to the crown of your head, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His entire body was so close, you could feel the heat and the tension radiating from him. This moment—it felt like everything and nothing at the same exact time. 

"You’re so beautiful," Nico murmured against your hair, his voice rough but sincere. "Every time I look at you, I just... I don’t know how to explain it. You’ve got this way about you that drives me crazy. You’re everything."

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the knots of confusion twisting in your stomach. It felt too good, and that scared you more than anything. His kisses continued, delicate and tender, each one making your heart race in a way that both calmed and terrified you.

You knew this wasn’t real; that he had done this countless times before, but was it so bad to believe it was—just for tonight?

You allowed for your eyes to close, for your body to rest and mold against him, for him to take you completely..He shifted slightly, his fingers running through your hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “You’re always like this,” he murmured, his voice warm with affection. “You just always make everything feel... easier, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but notice the softness in his tone, the way he seemed to genuinely mean it, even though you both knew this wasn’t it—not really.

The car hummed quietly around you as he leaned his cheek against your head, his breath warm on your skin. It was easy to let yourself get lost in the moment, his presence so familiar, so comforting. But then his voice broke the silence again, the words so casual they almost seemed like an afterthought.

“I always remember you, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air, soft but heavy, and it hit you like a tidal wave. Your breath caught, your chest tightening so suddenly it felt like you’d been punched. You glanced at him for half a second, but he wasn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze fixed out the window, a faint smile still playing on his lips, like he hadn’t just shattered you with a few careless words.

You blinked, trying to process the sudden shift in your thoughts. The feeling of his arms around you didn’t feel the same anymore. His closeness had always been a comfort, but now it felt like a reminder of everything you were trying to avoid.

He didn’t even realize what he’d just done, how his lighthearted, offhand comment had sent you spiraling. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything. His hand continued to lightly trace circles on your arm, his presence close, but something about it now—it felt toxic, like the entire thing, all that you two had built in the last few minutes had just blown up on you. 

Because he wasn’t just talking about tonight, not just the alcohol clouding his thoughts. No, he’d remembered you all along. Even when it felt like he hadn’t been there, like it was just something that happened when he was caught up in the moment, he always remembered.

But he pretended like he didn’t.

Before you could say anything, the Uber pulled up to his apartment, and you both got out of the car, the night air doing little to settle the emotions swirling between you.

Nico smiled softly, his hand brushing yours, pulling you into the building. He looked at you like nothing had changed, like he hadn’t just dropped a truth bomb on your heart. 

When you arrived, he held the door open for you, his grin softening into something more intimate as he led you inside, his hand lingering on your lower back as he guided you past the threshold. The apartment was familiar, but it felt different tonight—distant, colder, almost suffocating. Nico wasn’t just a boy in front of you anymore; he was a reminder of everything you couldn’t quite make sense of.

Once you were in, he closed the door behind you with a soft click. He stood there for a moment, his eyes still on you, his chest rising and falling with a deep, steady breath, as though he was waiting for something.

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. But just like everything Nico did, he pushed forward like he didn’t even have to try, like he never did anything for the first time. He just always knew. 

And before you knew it, his hands were on your waist, hungrily exploring your body like he had never traversed around it before. His lips pressed gently against yours, like he was giving you time to back out, to tell him that this wasn’t what you wanted. He was testing the waters with you. And you knew you shouldn’t be here; that you should’ve taken that moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Not yet.

He backed you up against the couch, the soft, plush arms hitting the back of your thighs as he groaned softly into your mouth. His hands slid under your dress, the heat of his palms on your skin making your breath hitch, his kisses growing more urgent as if he was trying to steal something from you. You could feel the tension building between you, his desire so palpable, so intense, that it was almost suffocating.

You could feel it, too—your own heart pounding, your body responding despite the part of you that was screaming to stop. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. You did. Maybe too much. But this wasn’t right. Not like this.

He kissed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured, “Y/N…” His hands found their way to your back, slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his lips trailing after them. "Come on, just let go tonight," he whispered, his voice rough and pleading. "Tell me you want this."

The weight of the situation settled over you, and suddenly everything felt wrong—too fast, too much. You pulled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breathing. His eyes were dark, clouded with desire, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you needed.

“I can’t do this,” you said, your voice trembling, but firm. “I don’t want this.”

The words hit him like a switch. As soon as you said them, Nico froze.. His hands, still hovering near the straps of your dress, stilled. His lips parted, but no words came. His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to steady himself, like he was struggling to understand. You could almost hear the shift in his thoughts—the reality sinking in as the alcohol seemingly cleared from his system in an instant.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, the words low, raw, and full of regret. He reached for you as if to stop you from leaving, but then he hesitated, pulling his hand back like you might vanish if he touched you. "God, Y/N, I didn't—"

“You didn’t do anything,” you murmured, placing your hand on his wrist. “It’s me.” Before he could protest, you were already looking into his eyes with something he’s never seen from you before. Remorse? Sadness? Regret? “I like you more than you will ever like me. I just wish…you wanted me when you were sober," you whispered like you had just revealed your entire hand.

And in the scope of it all, you had. You were completely bare.

There was a long silence, his lips parted as though he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there, his hands hanging at his sides as if the life had drained out of him. And you knew he wasn’t seeing you, not really. He was seeing someone else—the girl he could keep at arm’s length, the girl who would give him what he wanted when it was easy, when he was too drunk to remember what it really meant.

You didn’t want to be that girl anymore.

“I’m leaving,” you said quietly, already stepping toward the door. Nico didn’t try to stop you this time. Instead, he watched, his eyes following you as you reached for the handle.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, voice barely audible.

The words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you could almost hear his sincerity, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol wearing off or the realization that he had truly pushed you too far. But that didn’t matter anymore.

You opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, the weight in your chest only growing heavier as you walked away. You knew leaving was the right choice—no matter how much it hurt. It was time to stop pretending, to stop chasing something that wasn’t meant for you.

By the time you were back home, the tears were spilling over, and his words were echoing in your head. You leaned against the wall, your body crumpling into a pile on the floor of your kitchen. You had made the right choice—leaving before it went too far, before you let him make you feel like you were disposable again. But that damn line, "I always remember you"—it haunted you. Lighthearted. Careless. Yet somehow, it felt like the cruelest thing he’d ever said. 

After a while, you stood up, wiped your tears, slid off your dress, sat in bed, and hoped that one day, Nico would wish he’d been sober too.

[oliviaglumac]

This Boy

Pairing : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

Requested : no

Genre : fluff/angst

Jack stood in the dimly lit hallway outside your apartment, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. The cool winter air bit at his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t leave—not yet. Not without saying what he’d been holding back for weeks.

He could hear laughter inside—yours, mingled with someone else’s. It made his heart twist, a sharp reminder of how much he’d lost and how badly he wanted it back.

Before he could change his mind, Jack knocked.

The door swung open, and there you were, standing there in your oversized sweater, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Jack?” you asked, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He shifted on his feet, his nerves making it hard to meet your gaze. “I needed to see you,” he said. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. The warmth of your apartment was a sharp contrast to the chill outside, but Jack barely noticed. His focus was entirely on you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you said, crossing your arms. Your voice was guarded, but there was a softness to it—a part of you that still cared.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew all too well. “I know,” he said. “And I hate that it’s been this way. I hate that I messed things up.”

“Jack—”

“Please, just let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve been trying to move on, to be okay with you not being in my life. But I can’t. I see you with him, and it’s killing me. I keep thinking about how happy we were, and I… I can’t let it go.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d spent so many nights convincing yourself that Jack Hughes—confident, charming, and seemingly untouchable—would never feel the way you did. But here he was, standing in front of you, baring his soul.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I know I didn’t treat you the way you deserved. But if you gave me another chance—if you let me try again—I swear I’d do everything to make you happy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to trust that things could be different this time. But the fear of getting hurt again held you back.

“Jack, it’s not that simple,” you said softly. “You can’t just come back and say these things after everything.”

“I know,” he said, his voice shaking. “But I mean it, Y/N. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I just… I just need you to know how I feel. Because this boy,” he said, gesturing to himself with a sad smile, “would be happy—so happy—if you’d give him another chance.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him. The boy who had once been your everything was now standing before you, asking for a shot at redemption.

And as much as you wanted to guard your heart, a part of you—the part that still loved him—was willing to try.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Jack’s eyes lit up with hope. “Okay?”

You nodded. “But we take it slow this time. You have to prove to me that things will be different.”

“I will,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “I’ll prove it every single day.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, you felt the first flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this boy could make things right.

[senditcolton]

Homecoming: Craving

i could eat that girl for lunch. she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one.

summary: JT Compher is back in Denver. Unfortunately for you, your craving for him hasn't subsided. But fortunately, you are blessed with Mikko Rantanen - your boyfriend who seems to share your hunger towards his former teammate. word count: 8.7K warnings: smut! threesome (MFM, no explicit MxM but bisexual Mikko is heavily implied), oral (m & f receiving), ass-eating (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), anal sex (f receiving), cumplay, dirty talk, and just general depravity. author's note: here it is. finally. my sister fic to @comphy-and-cozy's fic Homecoming: Crush. (which if you haven't already read it, go do that.) so much credit goes to her, from this beautiful header to the entire concept of this fic. i was just lucky that she dropped it in my askbox one night and it infected my brain as well.

“Didn’t think you missed him that much.”

The deep voice startles you out of your reverie, your eyes darting from the ginger that had occupied your attention since he stepped foot in the bar to your boyfriend Mikko sitting next to you.

“What?” you say, partially because you brain didn’t quite register his words and partially because your mind was still playing the images of JT’s fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. How the trace of liquor on his lips catches the dim lighting of the bar and how they could feel pressed against your own lips or against your –

“I said,” Mikko smiles, once again breaking your trace as you try to shake those fantasies out of your head. “I didn’t think you missed JT that much.”

Your heart flips in your chest, your eyes locking with his. There is a hint of mischief sparkling in his blue irises, one that only increases as he takes in your hesitation. Granted, you weren’t sure what he was implying – if anything at all. But you had managed to keep the… infatuation? Desire? Craving… you had for his now former teammate a secret ever since those feelings first appeared. You weren’t about to admit them now. Your silence gives Mikko time to elaborate but as soon as he does, you realize that your appraisal of JT Compher had been anything but subtle.

“You’ve been staring at him since he arrived.”

The heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, the embarrassment flooding through you unbridled.

“Oh. Um, yeah, um. It’s just, uh,” you stutter out, the gaze of your boyfriend not accusatory but still too much for your mind to handle. It doesn’t help your case when, in your stumbling, your eyes dart back to the man in question. Perhaps thankfully, your jumbled explanation is cut off by Mikko’s warm laughter and the sound instantly soothes you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says scooting closer, his arm wrapping around you, hand gripping your waist as he pulls you into his body, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. You let some of the anxiety depart from your body, Mikko’s own heat helping you relax. You grab your drink, ready for the alcohol to put you even more at ease. It almost works until you feel the warmth of Mikko’s breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“JT missed you just as much.”

You weren’t sure if it was the words he said or how he said them – in that hushed sultry tone – that has you choking on your drink, the coughs coming in quick succession. Mikko doesn’t do anything to help you, probably enjoying your flailing. Eventually, your breathing rightens and you flip your head to stare at him with the most bewildered look painting your features.

“What?” you say, the only word that your brain could muster falling from your lips. It isn’t the clearest question but one Mikko intrinsically understands anyway.

“Neither of you were being very subtle,” he cooly explains. His blue eyes are still locked on your face, taking in the shift of your expression as the information sinks in. The fact that Mikko was able to read your desires so easily made you flounder but not as much as his words ‘neither of you’; a subtle implication that JT potentially wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Your eyes fall away from Mikko, trailing back towards JT. The redhead is still ignorant to your stare, still laughing with the other guys. You watch his movements: the way his plain white t-shirt stretches across his shoulders, the flex of his forearms, the spark in his dark eyes. Your observation is once again cut short by the shifting of Mikko behind you, pulling you closer to him as he deftly brushes your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your neck.

“Do you want to give him a homecoming you’ll both remember?”

You force yourself to take one of the deepest breaths you’ve ever taken, trying your damnedest to suppress the carnal hunger that had easily found a home in your lower abdomen. With quick look back at your boyfriend, you take in his expression: curious and ever patient. It would be romantic, the way he is looking at you, juxtaposed only by the fact that he had almost hauled you onto his lap, the heat radiating from him only increasing the fire already surging in you.

“Are you…” you start to say, a part of your mind still reeling from the fact that this wasn’t a dream brought forth from your subconscious because JT Compher was back in Denver. “You’d be okay with that?”

You finally manage to choke out the question, giving way to you need for your boyfriend’s former teammate.

“Did you forget about last summer already?” he says, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a teasing lilt to his reply. You feel another rush of desire as the images of skin still slick from the sauna and the phantom sensation of two pairs of hands on your body flash through your mind.

“I mean, with him?” you clarify. Summer was Mikko’s idea, one you gladly went along with but this… he never expressed any interest in JT. That craving was entirely yours.

“Kisu, you’ve indulged my desires. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

The smile that appears on your face this time is not shy or bashful. Instead, it is devilish, wicked. How you managed to find someone like Mikko – a man who never balked at your desires because he understood and sometimes shared them – was a miracle to you.

Your eyes once again slink back towards JT and this time, your gaze meets his. A sigh falls from your lips when you feel Mikko burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulders, his lips pressing against your skin. Your stare never leaves JT, your mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his brown eyes drink you in.

It takes a moment before an equally devilish smirk appears on his lips. He takes another swig of his beer as he watches your body react to Mikko’s kisses, that heady stare forcing flames to lick at your abdomen.

“Careful with those eyes, kisu,” Mikko whispers. “We are still in public.”

It’s a meant as a tease but you’d be damned if that knowledge doesn’t send another surge of heat through your body. You shift impossibly closer to your boyfriend, his hand moving to grip at your opposite thigh, finally pulling you into his lap. It takes all your strength to quiet the moan that wants to fall from your lips as your ass grazes against his groin, feeling how hard he is already, your eyes briefly fluttering close. Judging from the rumble that emanates from Mikko’s chest, you can tell that he feels the pulsing of your own core. You regain enough composure to shoot one last sultry look in JT’s direction before turning your attention to Mikko.

“You’re one to talk,” you quip, your hips rolling to subtly grind against him, a thrum of power humming through you as you watch his jaw clench and feel his grip tighten. Those shocking blue eyes re-open, a small grin appearing on his lips in response to your words and actions. You feel the hand that had been residing on the top of your thighs disappear, his fingers coming to trace your jawline, guiding your face so he can properly press his lips against yours.

You relax into the kiss, your body reacting the same way it always did when you kissed Mikko. It was so easy, so effortless, sinking into the gravity of him. Your own hand lifts to cup his face, your fingers deftly tracing the cut of his jawline, his stubble tickling your skin. Mikko’s arm wraps around your body, his hand now splayed across your stomach, his own fingertips coming to dip underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against the smooth skin he finds there.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The deep voice that had haunted your darkest fantasies sounds from somewhere close by and you force yourself to pull away from Mikko. The heat that had been bubbling inside of you surges at the sight of JT standing in front of the corner booth table, his heavy stare dancing over your body perched on your boyfriend’s lap.

“You’re always welcome to join.”

If it was any other night, if it was any other person, if the previous ten minutes hadn’t already happened, your words would be a slip of the tongue; a poorly worded invitation for JT join the two of you in the cushioned booth. Any potential innuendo that could be attached would have been laughed off with a small chuckle and an embarrassed heat in your cheeks. But tonight… the only warmth that thrummed in your body was miles south of your face. You can see one of JT’s eyebrows jump up along with one of the corners of his mouth.

“Am I?” he asks, his eyes darting to Mikko.

“Like you don’t want to J,” Mikko chuckles, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Acting like you didn’t tell me she’d never leave your bed if you had her.”

Every piece of information that casually falls from your boyfriend’s mouth has your mind spinning, your own head tilting in curiosity.

“When was this?”

“Last year,” JT replies, finally sitting down, his jeans scratching against the cracked leather as he scoots in, his body crowding your space. “When you showed up at the gala in that silk dress. How Mikko let you out of the house, I don’t even know.”

“Like to show my girl off,” comes your boyfriend’s reply and you just know his lips are twisted into that cocky grin. “Share her with the world. With my teammates.”

It’s a verbal sparring of subtle innuendos and insinuations. JT’s brown eyes, now appearing even darker than normal – a combination of the low light of the bar and the desire that was barely hidden – flit back to meet your gaze.

“What about former teammates?”

The question hangs in the air, directed to both you and Mikko even though JT’s eyes never leave yours. He must’ve been able to sense that this craving was entirely yours and Mikko was just along for the ride. That assumption is only encouraged by the feeling of Mikko nuzzling into your hair, his voice a quiet whisper heard only to you.

“Go on, kulta. Tell Comph how much you’ve wanted him.”

The shiver runs through you – one of not only desire at Mikko’s quiet demand, but one of appreciation for the man holding you. The only man that you ever thought about spending your life with, something he knew – probably one of the reasons he was comfortable sharing you with his friends.

“If it were up to us, you’d already be in our bed,” you reply. Your words make it clear that you were still Mikko’s girl; that your lust for JT didn’t outweigh your love for your boyfriend.

You can see JT’s eyes flick over to Mikko and you once again intrinsically know the expression on his face, the seductive eyes that he is directing towards the redhead. If there was any shock, JT masks it well, his gaze returning to you with a small grin.

“Isn’t it? Up to you, I mean.”

“Are you that ready to be our plaything, Compher?” Mikko quips, his own desires getting bolder the longer the conversation goes. JT chuckles with him, undeterred.

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

If you thought the fire within you was blazing before, now it was scorching. JT’s deference to the two of you, his intrinsic understanding that he was the outsider in this situation, his willingness to submit, his crystal-clear desire that he wanted you in whatever way he was allowed to have you… it made you weak.

“This is supposed to be your homecoming present J,” you murmur, finally offering up the proposal Mikko suggested moments ago directly to him. “You sure you don’t want to call the shots?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” JT replies and you must restrain yourself from crawling off your boyfriend’s lap and into his, kissing him in full view of the bar and the rest of the Avalanche players.

“In that case,” you start to say, elongating the syllables as you glance back to Mikko, his blue eyes sparkling with a mischief that is surely reflected in yours. That devious smirk reappears on your face as you return your gaze to JT. “Do you remember our address? Or do you need a reminder?”

“I think I got it but maybe a text just in case. Definitely wouldn’t want to get lost and miss out.”

“We wouldn’t want you that either.”

The remainder of your time at the bar is a somewhat successful attempt at acting like it was the end of any other night out. The calm removal of your body from Mikko’s lap and all three of your bodies from the booth, the quiet departure of you and Mikko, unnoticed by everyone with the exception of JT, who had returned to the small group of Avs players under the guise of wishing them goodnight so he could return to the hotel before Detroit’s lights-out curfew – a curfew that wasn’t enforced until much later.

The instant you and Mikko are secure in his car, you lean over the center console and bring his lips to meet yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back until you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Anything for you, rakkaani.”

You sink back into the passenger seat, Mikko’s hand finding its usual place on your thigh as he drives down the Denver streets. The ride home is filled with the ambient noises of the city as well as a quiet discussion of how the night would go; what you wanted out of it, what he wanted, what JT would be comfortable with. The conversation lulls, the barebone framework of a plan in both of your minds.

It is in that silence that Mikko’s hand slowly starts to caress your leg, tracing the seam on the inside of your thigh higher, chuckling at the way you shift in your seat, impatient. Finally, the two of you come to a stop in the driveway and it is a scramble out of the car and through the front door, leaving the deadbolt undone for JT later.

Mikko wastes no time pulling you up the stairs and into the bedroom, his large hands cupping your face to kiss you again. Your body goes lax in his hold, hands reaching over his broad shoulders, twisting into the soft cotton of his shirt. Mikko’s lips trail down across your jawline and onto the soft skin of your neck, busying himself by sucking a mark into your skin. You are content to lean your head back and let him claim you, your only sounds contented sighs. That is, until Mikko’s hands deftly undo your jeans and slip under the waistband of your underwear. A soft moan falls from you as his fingers trace your slit and you can feel his chuckle against your skin as he finds you wet and wanting.

“That desperate for someone else?” he quietly teases. “My little kisu.”

It is hard for you to give a solid response; partially because of how amazing Mikko’s movements felt against you and partially because well… he wasn’t wrong. The fact that in a few minutes, your fantasy of sharing a bed with JT Compher would be coming true just made that fire in you roar stronger.

“How’d I get so lucky to have such a dirty girl all to myself?”

It’s that subtle confirmation that he was enjoying this just as much as you that made you pull away from him, his hands retreating as yours tug the material of his shirt over his head. He helps expose his bare skin to you, the sight of his sculpted body never failing to make you weak. Mikko’s hands quickly return to you, mirroring your movements by pulling your top off your body, revealing the dark red lace stretched across your chest.

“Did you think this would happen when you picked out this set?” Mikko questions, his hands tracing your sides to help tug down your jeans, the matching underwear snug against your hips.

“Planned on having you tonight,” you say, stepping forward, your fingers deftly come to rest on the front of his pants. “J’s just a pleasant addition.”

A grin stretches across Mikko’s face before he pulls you back to his lips. Your hands now blindly undo the clasp of his jeans, your fingers twisting into both waistbands as you pull at the material, leaving him naked. It is instinctive, the way you reach for your boyfriend, Mikko moaning at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly.

“Kisu, need your mouth,” he groans and you smile, never tiring of the way you can make your 6-foot-4 boyfriend beg for you.

You gladly sink to your knees on the plush carpet, eyes bright as you look up at Mikko, hand still wrapped around the thickness of him. Your lips press against his thighs, working kisses up the skin. Your mouth briefly suckles his balls, feeling them tighten against your tongue before you slide your lips along the length of him. Mikko’s fingers comb through your hair, gathering the strands into a makeshift ponytail as finally wrap your lips around him.

“Perkele, always so good for me,” Mikko groans above you and you take more of him into the wet cavern of your mouth, tongue slowly tracing along every vein, moaning at the taste. You bob your head, relishing in the sound of Finnish curses falling from his lips.

“Fuck.”

A new voice sounds out and your eyes slide over to see JT standing in the doorway.

“Not sure what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” he chuckles, the initial shock fading from his face as he steps deeper into the room. “Guess I took a little too long.”

“Nah, she’s just a desperate little slut,” Mikko replies, encouraging you to continue your movements against him. “Aren’t you, kisu?”

The question – along with the sight of JT now standing next to your boyfriend, his own dark eyes staring down at you – makes another rush of arousal flow between your thighs. Your only response is to stretch your mouth to accommodate more of Mikko, his head falling back as JT’s lips twitch in a smile.

“Look so good like this, baby,” JT whispers, crouching next to you, his hand tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, thumb brushing the mascara-stained tears off your cheek. “D’you like having your face stuffed with cock?”

“Why don’t you find out, Comph?”

JT moves out of your line of sight but you can still feel the heat from his body circling you. His hands find your hips and you can’t stop the way they roll as your back connects with JT’s chest. You moan when you feel his own erection against your ass, his hands trailing down in between your thighs. A soft moan falls from JT as he feels the ruined material of your panties, your arousal continuing to flood the fabric as he presses his fingers against you, your movements against Mikko faltering.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he whispers, the hand between your thighs disappearing, coming to trace up your body, cupping your breast, fingers teasing your nipples through the lace.

“Told you. My girl gets so turned on from sucking dick,” Mikko murmurs, his blue eyes looking down at you with filthy admiration.

You whine, their words making you even more desperate, one of JT’s hands coming to rest on your neck. Your movements against Mikko finally stall as JT’s lips connect to the column of your throat, sucking an identical mark next to the one your boyfriend had previously left. There is a gentle tug on your hair, calling your attention back to the man standing above you.

“Need me to take over?”

You hum an affirmative, your jaw going slack as you hold yourself still – a little difficult considering the heat of JT behind you, his lips now peppering kisses against your shoulders. With a quick blink up at Mikko, you let him slide deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, Rants,” JT groans against your skin. “Can feel you in her throat.” His words are accompanied by a soft press against your neck, increasing the tightness around Mikko, making a loud moan fall from your boyfriend.

“Niin vitun hyvä,” Mikko mutters.

Your eyes stay connected with his blue ones, his hips lightly thrusting. You feel JT’s chin come to rest on your shoulder, his own gaze lifting to meet Mikko’s as his hand once again pushes on your throat. Mikko’s cock hardens in your mouth at both the sensation and the sight of two pairs of doe eyes looking up at him.

Another almost growled curse falls from your boyfriend’s lips before he pulls back, the sudden absence of him making the saliva and precum flow. You lick the remnants off your own swollen lips with a sigh as your body leans back against JT.

“She’s all yours, Comph.”

“Finally,” JT murmurs, his fingers reaching to turn your head to him, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss.

The mutual moans fall from both of you in response to finally tasting the other. Your hand finds the nape of JT’s neck, pressing him closer as you deepen the kiss, tongue gliding against his. JT’s other hand pulls your hips back, moaning into your open mouth as you grind on his still confined length.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” JT asks, breaking the kiss to thrust against you again, pulling another whine from your lips. “How long have you been wanting this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. A while?”

You couldn’t quite remember when you started to view JT as something more than your boyfriend’s teammate, when your platonic glances took on a more carnal energy.

“Still can’t believe this is happening,” you continue, voicing your disbelief. “It’s surprising.”

“Surprising that I wanted this too or surprising that it took this long to admit it?”

“A little bit of both,” you reply, your gaze dropping to his lips before looking back into his eyes. “Imagine the fun we could’ve had if we had a whole season together instead of two days.”

There is no subtlety in the way JT’s irises darken in response to your words and you swear you can see every filthy image that passes through his mind at the prospect of sharing you for more than a single night.

“It’s a shame.”

“It is a shame,” he agrees. “Guess that means I’ll have to make the most of my homecoming present.”

“I guess you will,” you whisper, lifting your head to kiss him again.

The two of you stay there for a brief moment; kneeling on the carpet, pressed against each other, bodies writhing, soft moans and whines filling the bedroom. JT eventually breaks the kiss, forehead pressing against yours as those deep brown eyes capture you in his stare.

“Can I feel that talented mouth of yours?”

Your own eyes sparkle, a smirk appears on your lips with ease. There was nothing you wanted more than to feel the weight of him on your tongue – something you were sure he knew. Yet here he was, asking anyway. What a gentleman.

“Take off those clothes and get on the bed, then you will.”

JT kisses you once more time before pulling away, following your directions. The absence of his warmth makes you pout but that disappointment is quickly extinguished when you spin on your knees to watch him strip. Your eyes stay pinned to his body, relishing in the sight of his exposed skin – a sight that you only ever imagined.

You were lucky to say that your imagination didn’t come close to reality.

His ivory pale skin a delicious contrast to the fire red of his hair and beard. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, a testament to his profession. The light smattering of hair across his chest and down his stomach, your gaze following its trail. The moan that falls from you is desperate when he takes off his pants and boxers, his hard length slapping up against his abdomen.

“Like what you see, kisu?” you hear your boyfriend ask from somewhere behind you. You glance back to find him sitting in the armchair in the bedroom corner, a hand around his cock.

“He’s so pretty, Mikko,” you reply, the words twinged with desire. Mikko just chuckles, his eyes lifting from your frame to JT’s, his own gaze raking across his former teammate’s naked form.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Your eager eyes reconnect to JT and you can see the shiver that runs through him, pinned under both of your hungry gazes.

“Fuck, you two are going to be the death of me.”

“Get on the bed, baby,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

No more encouragement is need as JT quickly climbs onto the still-made bed, resting against the pillows before his eyes return to you. You unfold yourself from your kneeling position, now standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. The power you feel, the desire that thrums through you at the sight of JT patiently waiting for you makes you wicked. You decide to tease him more, your hands reaching behind your back and undoing the clasp of your bra. The material falls from your chest and you feel irresistible when you hear two different moans fill the room – one from someone who has seen you naked a hundred times and the other from someone who was seeing you for the first time.

You step forward, crawling on top of the mattress, your knees sinking in the plush sheets. Your siren eyes look up to JT as you move closer between his spread legs.

The sight of him makes your desire swell, a carnal need to taste his skin appearing. You lean down, following a similar path up his thighs as you did Mikko’s a few moments ago. Your lips move to his hipbones, kissing the taut skin there before following the cut of his body, JT’s stomach contracting every so often in response to your soft touch. You soon reach the base of him, your tongue darting out to lick his silken skin. A moan sounds from above you, encouraging you to drag up his length to the tip of him.

You see JT’s hands bury themselves into the sheets, his chest already heaving as he looks down at you. You take pity, closing your mouth around him, moaning at the taste of him against your tongue. It’s intoxicating and you don’t stop yourself from sinking further down, JT’s moans and soft grunts encouraging you to take him deeper.

“Fuck. God, you’re so good – she’s so good, Rants,” JT whines as you work your tongue against him, swallowing him inch by inch. You hear your boyfriend’s soft chuckle from somewhere behind you and it’s only a moment until you feel his hands on your hips, toying with the waistband of your underwear.

“Yes, she is,” Mikko practically growls, fingers twisting around the lace and dragging the material down your thighs. You moan against JT when the cool air of the bedroom hits your molten core, the whines only increasing when you feel Mikko’s lips trace over the curve of your ass to the place where the muscle meets your thigh.

Your focus on JT wavers when Mikko’s large hands pull at the globes of your ass, spreading you open and you hear him moan at the sight of your soaked pussy. Mikko doesn’t hesitate, diving into your core, his lips working against you. You have to take a few deep – albeit ragged – breaths before turning your attention back to JT, wanting to make him feel good.

It was his homecoming after all.

Mikko doesn’t make it easy, his tongue alternating between plunging into your heat and flicking your clit, muffled whines escaping you. His hand once again gropes your ass, opening you more and you can feel the electric shiver run down your spine as his tongue trails up, past your core, against the small strip of sensitive skin before circling your puckered hole.

You remove your lips from JT’s cock to let out a loud unbridled moan. You look back, eyes connecting with Mikko’s baby blues, your hips rocking as he eats your ass, one hand lifting to press against your core, not neglected for a moment.

“Sweetheart,” JT calls out, your gaze returning to him. “Don’t stop, please.”

You nod softly, little whimpers and whines still falling from you as Mikko continues his ministrations. The sensation steals all your attention and that realization causes you to reach out for one of JT’s hands, practically prying it from the sheets and guiding it to your head. You preen when JT’s fingers burrow into your hair, gently taking hold and pulling your mouth back onto his hard cock. You hum appreciatively as JT’s hips gently pulse, thrusting into your mouth.

A soft sigh escapes as you let yourself relish in the sensations at each end of your body. You trace every inch of JT in your mouth while your hips move against Mikko’s tongue still buried in your ass, his fingers caressing your soaked core. Above you, JT’s moans increase and underneath you, you can feel his rhythm falter. His stuttered sounds call Mikko’s attention, his lips disappearing from you.

“Gonna cum in that sweet mouth, Comph?” he asks, his voice heavy. JT’s only response is a strangled moan, his hand twisting deeper into your hair. “Go on. She wants it. Don’t you, kisu?”

Mikko’s question is punctuated with the press of his fingers plunging into your core. You moan, your eyes darting up to meet JT’s, hoping that your silent plea is understood. JT reads you with ease, even after only a few minutes of having you in bed. His movements increase, fucking your face as his head falls against the pillows. It is only a moment before he stills, holding you in place as his release hits the back of your throat. You gag lightly, his dick twitching in your mouth as his grip goes lax. You slide your lips against him, cleaning any remnants from his skin before remove yourself from him, eyes flicking up to see his brown irises trained on you.

A soft smile appears on your face before your mouth falls open in a gasp, Mikko’s fingers still buried inside you, thumb coming to press against your clit.

“You get so wet from being a good little slut,” he mutters, his hand working against you, forcing more of those delectable sounds from you. Your head falls to rest on the top of JT’s thigh, your body rolling.

“Please, Mikko, want your mouth back on me,” you whine, one of your hands reaching back to spread yourself open, an emphasis to your plea. Mikko’s response is a dark chuckle, fingers curling inside your core, causing your walls to flutter.

“Keep your eyes on Comph, sweet girl. Show him how pretty you look when you cum.”

That demand is all Mikko says before his mouth returns to your ass. It takes all your will-power to keep your eyes open and locked on JT as the dual sensations of Miko’s tongue and fingers pull you closer to the edge. JT just watches you; the way your body writhes, the way your mouth falls open, your tongue occasionally flicking over your lips as you whine.

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

You respond with a small nod, another whine falling from you. JT brushes the side of your face, his hand trailing down from your temple, across your jaw until his thumb presses against your plush bottom lip. You easily take the digit into your mouth, noticing the way JT’s eyes darken, his dick twitching with renewed interest.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, sweetheart. Want to see it.”

JT’s quiet demand is all it takes for you to fall over that peak, your eyes finally closing as the warmth explodes from your core, the energy of your orgasm thrumming through your entire body. You can faintly hear Mikko moan, his tongue trailing down to your core to drink the sweet nectar of you.

“Such a good girl,” Mikko mutters, pressing a kiss against the base of your spine as JT removes his finger from between your lips.

Your body warms with his praise, your eyes fluttering open. The first sight you see is JT above you, his stomach clenching as he holds himself upright. Your eyes quickly dart to his length, semi-hard. Without hesitation you to reach up and grip him, your hand sliding with ease over the saliva-soaked skin. JT moans, his cock hardening again in response to your movements.

“Want his dick that bad, huh?” Mikko questions, his hand caressing the outside of your thigh and your gaze darts back to meet his blue eyes.

“Can I have it?”

“Like you have to ask,” he chuckles in response. His fingers trail down, hooking the underwear still resting in the crook of your knees. He carefully slips them off your body as he departs from the bed. “Why don’t you show J how pretty you look riding cock? What d’you say, Comph? You’d like that?”

“Fuck yes,” comes his desperate reply, your hand still working against him, a laugh falling from you and Mikko.

“Go on then, mirri. Take what you want.”

You don’t need any more coaxing, hand falling from JT as you crawl higher up on the mattress, one leg swinging over his body to straddle him. You lean down to kiss him, your hair creating a curtain your faces. JT happily accepts the kiss, moaning at the lingering taste of him in your mouth. Your hips roll, the sensation of your soaked folds gliding against him causing another moan to emanate from his chest. You movements continue until his dick is once again rigid underneath you. You tear away from the kiss, lifting your torso up, hands finding the sturdy planes of his chest.

JT simply looks up at you, pupils blown wide at the sight of you hovering above him. One of your hands traces down his body until you reach his cock. You gently grasp him, stroking him a few more times, spreading your arousal against his skin. JT’s hands find your hips, lifting and holding you steady as you align his length with your center.

The mutual moans that fall as you lower yourself onto him sound like something straight out of a porno. Your eyes roll back, chest heaving as JT sinks deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt.

“Shit, sweetheart. So fucking tight. So wet,” JT mutters from below you, his grip tightening so much that you’re concerned there might be bruises the next day. “God, Mik. Don’t know how you manage to leave this sweet pussy.”

“Knowing I get to come home to it every night helps,” Mikko replies, his quiet claim of you making your walls flutter around JT.

The two of you still, deeply breathing, memorizing every sensation, knowing that this might never happen again. The realization of limited time must hit JT because his hands start to pull at your hips, guiding you to grind against his cock. You follow his movements, gliding along his length, soft gasps falling from your lips at ever stroke of JT within you.

“You’re right, Mikko. She looks so fucking good riding me,” JT mutters, addressing your boyfriend who lingers at the edge of the bed.

“One of my favorite positions to have her in.”

The praise falling from both of their mouths encourages you more, your body moving in a more feverish pace. You lean your body back, hands switching from JT’s chest to his thighs, using that leverage to lift your hips. The new angle gives JT a clear line of sight and you hear his moan as he watches his length disappear into your center.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking perfect cunt taking all of me,” he groans, his hands lifting from your hips to your chest, fingers teasing your nipples causing more moans to escape you.

You are so caught up in JT – the feeling of him inside you, the lingering taste of him on your tongue, the heat radiating from his body – that you almost lose track of what your boyfriend is doing. That is, until you feel the mattress shift under the weight of another body. You hear the bedsprings creak as Mikko appears behind you, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Look at you, kisu. Being such a good girl for Comph.”

Your only reply is to press your lips against his, having been deprived of his kisses for far too long. Mikko kisses you back just as fiercely, his hand coming to rest on the hollows of your collarbone. You can faintly hear JT curse underneath you as he pauses your movements, holding your hips still.

Mikko breaks away from you and you whine at the loss of both sensations. Mikko only smiles, his hand moving to your shoulder before he gently presses your body forward. You let him guide you folding yourself over JT’s body until your chests are pressed together. The proximity means that you trade Mikko’s lips for JT’s, an exchange that both you and he gladly accept.

You let yourself be engulfed in JT’S cinnamon whiskey taste and his scorching warmth. Faintly, you hear the click of a cap behind you and feel one of Mikko’s hands trace the curve of your spine. Another shift of the mattress, and you unabashedly moan into JT’s mouth when you feel the coolness of Mikko’s now lubricated fingers dipping between your ass cheeks.

“You want it, kisu?”

“Yes,” you whine, the single syllable word elongated in need. “Please, Mikko. Please.”

“Hold her still, Comph.”

JT follows your boyfriend’s orders, keeping his hold around your hips tight as Mikko’s fingers circle the ring of your ass, the skin now slick with saliva, your own arousal, and lube. When he deems you ready, the tip of his index finger presses into you. You moan, breaths becoming more rapid which JT notices. His lips connect to your neck to relax you, no doubt being able to feel your pulse jumping underneath your skin.

“Good, kulta?”

You can only nod frantically, the sensation driving you insane. Mikko chuckles, returning to slowly work you open, gently thrusting his hand until another finger slips in. The curse and whimpers fall from your lips freely at the dual sensation of Mikko in your ass and JT still seated deeply in your pussy. It is so much… and yet at the same time, not enough.

Your hands card through JT’s hair, pulling him away from the column of your throat, his dark eyes reconnecting with your lust-blown pupils.

“Move, J. Please.”

You see the barest nod of JT’s head before he is readjusting his hold on you, softly and slowly thrusting his hips up to meet yours. There is no stopping the downright pornographic moans that fall from you at the sensation of being stuffed to the brim by two absolutely beautiful humans. It makes your eyes roll back, your body tremble, your pussy flood. And when Mikko manages to slip a third finger past the rim of you, you shriek, your orgasm hitting you with the force of an oncoming train. Your whole body stills, eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide as you let the waves of pleasure rush through you, groans emanating from both men at the feeling of both holes clenching.

“God damn,” JT curses. “Didn’t think this cunt could get any tighter. Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Y’gonna flood that cunt, J?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you back, his question making a new wave of heat flow through your already molten veins. You blindly start to press kisses against the column of JT’s throat, working your way up until your lips hover at the shell of his ear.

“Please. Wanna feel you. Wanna filled with you.”

Your desperate pleas make JT’s hips thrust a little faster, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your body go lax. Mikko’s hand disappears from your ass, his other hand coming to gently wrap around your throat, pulling your body upright. You gladly let yourself be manipulated, gladly drink in the sight of JT below you: his brow furrowed, his pink lips swollen from your kisses, his pale skin marked with the love bites that you had left.

You hear JT’s breath hitch in his throat, his head being tossed back against the pillows and you whine at the feeling of his warmth spilling into you. Mikko swallows your noises by kissing you, his hand staying against your throat. A possessive necklace, a reminder that just because he let JT have you, you were still his. A fact that you would never deny.

The two of you eventually break away from the each other, eyes darting down to the redhead still left panting on the mattress.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps and you let a soft giggle escape you at his exclamation.

Mikko’s hands depart from your body, his weight departing from the mattress at the same time. The lack of support causes your fall, coming to rest on the sheets beside JT, his brown eyes gazing at you, hand gently stroking the outside of your thigh.

“You are so… amazing. You know that?”

“Wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you tease, JT’s own grin appearing in response to yours. He leans in to kiss you, his movements now softer and gentler than all the previous and you can’t help the way you melt into him. A different pair of calloused fingertips appear on your skin and you pull away from JT to see your boyfriend standing over you. His hand dips between your thighs, a simultaneous moan coming from you at the feeling of your soaked core, JT’s cum falling from your folds.

“Want more, kisu?”

“Always.” 

“So needy. Ready to spread those legs open for anyone.”

“As long as I get to have you too,” you whine, Mikko’s fingers still softly tracing your pussy. Mikko leans down, his large body hovering over you as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

“You’ll always have me, rakkaani.”

The quiet testament warms you from the inside out and you feel his arms slide against your skin, one slipping under your thighs, the other under your waist. You gasp as he uses his impressive strength to lift you off the mattress, your own arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers teasing his golden curls. Mikko walks across the plush carpet before sinking back into the armchair, gently manipulating your body so your back is once again pressed against his chest.

You moan as his strong hands toss your thighs over each of his own legs, spreading you open, putting you on display. Your ass presses against the hardness of him and you shiver in anticipation when you realize what’s coming. Mikko’s hand – the one that had not been previously buried in your ass – traces down your body, coming to dance over your cunt, groaning at the ease in which his skin slips against yours.

“How does she look, Comph?”

The name draws your attention back to the bed, JT now sitting upright, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“So pretty. Love seeing that cunt drip.”

His vulgar words cause your pussy to clench, no doubt making more of your arousal and JT’s previous release seep from you. Mikko moans at the sensation of it on his fingers, gently guiding the moisture downwards.

“Ready to show J how good you can be?” Mikko mutters, his words just loud enough for JT to hear.

You watch as his eyes follow the path of your boyfriend’s fingers, his eyebrows jumping when the implication hits him. You nod your head, your own hand reaching between your thighs as Mikko lifts you up. It’s easy to find and wrap your hand around Mikko’s already slick length, holding it steady as he spreads you open, lining up before gently pressing into you. Your whole body shudders at the sensation of him sinking into you, his gentle voice reminding you to breathe. You follow his commands, forcing yourself to relax as you stretch to accommodate his considerable length, your eyes rolling back. Eventually, Mikko stills, fully sheathed inside of you, hips flush against your ass as your core clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, I can see why you wanted to keep her to yourself,” JT curses.

“Gonna be thinking about this tomorrow night during the game?” Mikko teases, the traded quips allowing you time to get used to the feeling of him seated deep within you.

“Don’t know how I’ll be able to think about anything else.”

You feel Mikko bury his face in your hair, hot breath hitting your skin, his next words for only you to hear.

“That’s the whole idea.”

A quick huff of laugher escapes you, your boyfriend’s competitive nature coming forward. You both loved JT but he was indeed the enemy now.

You turn your head to mouth at Mikko’s neck, muttering a quiet plea into his skin – one that Mikko hears and responds to immediately. His hands grip the back of your thighs, slightly lifting your hips as his own start to gently pulse. Your moans echo around the bedroom, every press of Mikko within you causing your core to clench, more arousal spilling from you, additional lubricant for the obscene show. Your gaze catches JT’s stare fixed on where you and Mikko are connected, watching intently like this was something out of porno – one meant just for him. Which, in a way, it was.

You whine, hand reaching out to JT. This was his homecoming after all and although you were sure he loved the view, you didn’t want him to feel left out. JT slides off the bed and walks over, his lithe frame standing in front of you.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the redhead murmurs, his hands dancing across your chest. Mikko’s teeth gently graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“He’s right, kisu. You’re always so good for me, so perfect.”

Their praise makes you moan. JT’s fingertips tracing down your body and eventually connecting to your soaked core makes you gasp.

His calloused skin collects your slick before slowly pushing into your core, moaning at the tightness of you around his fingers. Your hand shoots out, holding his wrist in an almost vice-like grip. You aren’t quite sure whether you mean to push him away, on the verge of overstimulation, or encourage him to keep going. But when you open your eyes and see those deep chocolate brown pools staring at you, you tug his wrist forward. A silent encouragement.

JT leans down, pressing his lips against yours as his fingers gently curl within you, your moans falling into his open mouth as he swallows every sound. Mikko’s breath is still hot against your skin, Finnish praise and guttural groans falling from his lips as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm increasing. Your free hand comes to tangle in his blonde curls, holding him against your neck while your other hand releases JT’s wrist, reaching further. You finally manage to grab a hold of his cock, a hiss falling from JT as you softly stroke the skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines against your lips, seemingly on the verge of overstimulation himself.

“Please J, just one more. Let me take care of you, please.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your gentle words or your movements against his erection that causes JT to nod, letting you toy with him as he continues the movement of his fingers inside you. You recapture his lips in yours, your attention torn between your boyfriend’s hands on your skin, his cock stuffed in your ass, and JT’s hand pressed against your core. The ginger doesn’t seem to mind your sloppy handjob, moaning into your mouth anyway as you kiss him.

It isn’t long until Mikko’s grip adjusts, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you impossibly closer to him as his hips find an almost brutish pace, gasps and whimpers falling freely from your lips. JT gently removes his hand from your core before gently knocking your hand away from him. He takes a single step back, eyes returning to drink in the sight of both you and Mikko as your head lolls, your third orgasm of the night fast approaching. It only takes a few more pulses of Mikko’s hips before he falters, his teeth digging into the flesh of your shoulder as his orgasm hits him. The sharp sensation of his teeth coupled with the warmth of his release spilling into your ass causes you to cum. Every muscle in your body clenches, from your jaw down to between your thighs as the waves of pleasure roll over you.

Eventually, the intensity subsides, your thighs pleasantly shaking as your staccato breathing slows. Your eyes open to see JT still standing in front of you, his own hand now pumping his length. You smile up at him, sighing when you feel Mikko’s tongue laving over the indents that his teeth left in your skin, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your hipbones.

“JT, please,” you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your previous moans. “Want you to come. Wanna feel you on my skin.”

That seems to be all the encouragement JT needs, his hand now moving faster, small hisses and groans falling from his lips. He leans over you and Mikko, his free hand gripping the back of the chair to hold himself steady, eyes closing in overstimulated pleasure. You reach your hand upwards, cupping his jaw, your gentle touch drawing his gaze to you. You let your fingers brush through his beard, a small part of you wondering how pretty it would look drenched in your release. Your thumb moves to his mouth, pink and swollen from your previous kisses. A soft press against his plush bottom lip makes JT’s mouth fall open. You smile, softly guiding your thumb in, pressing against the firm muscle of his tongue.

“Perkele,” you hear Mikko curse from behind you and watch those brown eyes dart over towards your boyfriend, no doubt staring at JT like he was a meal. There’s no telling if your finger in his mouth or Mikko’s gaze is the final nail in the coffin but you find that you don’t care when JT’s eyes clench shut, gasps falling from him as you feel the warmth of him splattering against your stomach.

JT comes down, his chest heaving as he finds the strength to lift himself upright, your hand falling from his mouth as his eyes take in the sight of his cum on your skin. You smile, fingers still wet from his spit as you trace up your stomach, collecting the creamy release before lifting your hand to dip into your own mouth. A moan falls from you at the now familiar taste of JT against your tongue as you lick them clean.

“Does he taste good, kisu?” Mikko asks and you turn your head to stare into his blue eyes.

“Mmhmm. You wanna taste?”

Your boyfriend nods his head and your fingers dip down to once again collect JT’s cum. This time however, you hold out your lifted hand towards Mikko, who gladly takes you into his mouth. A moan falls from him as he suckles your fingers, his own tongue dancing over every inch of skin.

“You two are going to be the death me.”

You giggle at JT’s words, a repetition of the statement he spoke earlier, your gaze and hand falling from Mikko. Your eyes leap up to meet JT’s, his own head slightly shaking in disbelief, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

“Welcome back to Denver.”

“Best fucking homecoming I could’ve asked for.”

Translations (from Reddit & Google) Kisu/mirri: kitten [used for very sexy women] Kulta: baby/honey Rakkaani: my darling Perkele: shit/fuck Niin vitun hyvä: so fucking good

a/n 2.0: I do have a kind of funny/cute epilogue that I didn't include but I can post it if any of y'all are interested.

taglist: @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @svexhenthusiast also tagging @smileysvech because - as she said when this was first mentioned - this is very niche and has such a specific target audience (her)

sign up for my taglist here!

[hockeyboysimagines]

17 from the romance prompts with jarvy!

Love this one Nonny! My favorite soft boy🤍

“How many of those have you had?” Svech asked peering into the cup in Seth’s hand.

“Don’t worry dad.” He said annunciating with an eyeroll “I’ve only had 2.” He’d had 3 and a half actually, and he was sure the flush on his face was giving it away but he was having such a good time he would have 10 if he wanted.

While the playoffs hadn’t gone the way they wanted, spirits were still high at the end of the season get together they were having. It had sucked to lose that way after making it so far, but the achievement of even getting there trumped the disappointment. While it wasn’t the first, and certainly wouldn’t be the last team party, it was a first for Seth.

And you of course.

He’d never brought a girlfriend, or anyone besides family members with him to any large event or gathering that was Canes related, so this one was pretty important. You’d been nothing but polite and friendly to everyone you’d met, and he could feel himself getting downright giddy each time someone complemented you to him.

“She’s fantastic.”

“You couldn’t have found someone better.”

“She’s perfect for you.”

He knew all this of course, but hearing others say it made him feel like he was high on life. Finding you had been something he couldn’t believe he’d even accomplished. In fact, the odds of finding someone like you were 1 in a million and yet he had done it. High on life was the only way to describe it. He certainly felt it when he spotted you from across the room. You smiled a gave him a small wave.

“Yo guys.” He said gaining Svech and Marty’s attention “Who’s that hot girl over there?”

Marty scoffed and looked mad “What did you just say? I know you’re not disrespecting Y/N like-“ but Marty had already followed his line of sight and his expression fell flat. “Really?”

“Oh wait!” Seth said, gleefully slapping him on the arm and ruffling Svech’s hair “It’s my girlfriend.” He bounced happily from his spot and crossed the floor, sweeping you into his arms when he reached you. He kissed you once, twice, three times until you came up for air.

“Okay okay I get it.” You giggled as he continued to kiss you all over your face.

He sighed happily against your neck, arms hugging your waist. It had only been 4 months, but he was already so deeply in love with you it made him physically ill to think about ever being without you. It was early, too early to say forever, but a large part of his heart had already decided you were it for him. There would be no moving on from you if things didn’t work out. It felt crazy for him to say that but when he pulled back to look you in the eyes it reinforced how true it was.

“You’ve been quite impressive.” He said smiling at you, eyes twinkling.

Your brows furrowed “What?”

“Everyone’s been raving about you all day. They think you’re amazing, which you are of course, and I knew already.”

“Oh I don’t know about that-“

“I do. They’re right. Your kind, funny, smart. All those qualities are the reason why I Love-“

The rest of the crowd seemed to freeze around you and the noise grew foggy, heart beating in your ears. Your face registered surprise for a second, but then he smiled at you.

“Love you.” He finished simply.

“You love me?” You hoped you hadn’t been hearing things and he’d actually said that, but you knew it was true when he nodded.

“Of course I love you. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you. Since the minute I met you, it’s always been you, and it will always be you. Please never forget that.”

You smiled widely and nodded “I love you too.”

“Good. Now come on.” He gave your hand a tug and smiled “ I wanna go show you off some more.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ oh captain, my captain ] q. hughes

day 2 of kinktober (captain kink w/ quinn hughes)

➾ paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

➾ summary : Quinn’s girlfriend calls him "Cap" after hearing the nickname come from his teammates, and Quinn reacts totally normally

➾ warning(s) : smut !! captain kink, light dom!quinn, nicknames during sex, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it)

➾ author’s note : i am Not gonna lie … this has been living in a word doc unfilnished for months so i thought that this would be the perfect time to finish it and let it out to see the light of day. enjoy :)))

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

When her boyfriend asked her a few weeks ago to accompany him to an event that the Canucks were holding, she was not looking forward to it at all. It's a very private event that the Canucks hold at the start of every season for new Canucks to get to know their new teammates and for returning Canucks to catch up. She's managed to be busy on this day for the past two years of their relationship so she didn't have to go, but she can't dodge the event any longer. Especially now that Quinn is captain.

The dress she bought for this event is stunning and she couldn't wait to wear it to the event. It's a sparkly navy blue number that hugs her curves. The thin straps hold up a plunging v-neckline that shows off her cleavage in a way that Quinn loves. There's a high slit in the skirt that goes about halfway up her thigh.

She feels like she could've dressed a little more modestly when she walks into the ballroom and finds that a lot of the women dressed in more high cut and full length gowns. She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover her exposed cleavage.

A couple of Quinn's teammates greet their captain as soon as the two of them walk into the large room decorated in blue, green, and white. She hears the nickname "Cap" thrown around as a few of the veteran Canucks greet him. That's a new nickname that catches her attention immediately.

The significant others of the teammates that greet Quinn greet her. She does her best to hold a conversation with the group of women but her eyes continue to shift toward her boyfriend in his suit. He has on one of his game day suits from last season that doesn't really fit him anymore so it hugs his arms and thighs nicely.

"Your dress is beautiful, by the way," Lexie Demko compliments. She turns her attention to Thatcher's wife. "I mean it. It's stunning. I guess it's to be expected for the captain's girlfriend to sparkle." The group of women laugh and she forces a smile.

Sometimes she questions if she should be the one leading this group of women because she's only 23 and still kind of young. It's one thing for Quinn to lead the Canucks because he's a natural leader and knew he was probably going captain this team one day. He's had a lifetime of experience because he's the oldest of three brothers.

She was kind of thrust into the role of lead WAG with his captaincy appointment last season. Her version of being a leader means being the one that plans the parties and plans the playoff attire. Making sure all the other wives and girlfriends are okay, making sure they catch their flights to make it to whatever city they're following their boyfriend or husband to so she can watch him play. It's no NHL team, but it takes up a lot of her time. Especially party and playoff jacket planning.

Quinn looks over at her and her brain immediately goes blank. He's still surrounded by his teammates, but he's looking at her like that. It should be illegal to look like that.

She excuses herself from the group of wives and girlfriends to approach her boyfriend. She tries not to feel tiny among a group of hockey players, but she is.

"Cap," she teases with a smile. "I'm kinda hungry so can we go grab something to eat?" Quinn's cheeks turn bright red at the use of his new nickname. His teammates snicker around him at his reaction.

All he can do is nod in response to her and grab her hand. He guides her away without a single word, but his cheeks remain tomato red.

She's rendered him speechless. All by calling him "Cap." Maybe she'll have to start doing that more often if this is how he reacts.

They grab a plate of food and head to their table. No one else is sitting at the table but she knows that it's her, Quinn, JT, JT's wife, Brock, Thatcher, and Lexie at the table. Their tablemates are still mingling amongst the players and coaches in the room while they sit and eat.

Quinn leans over to her and says softly in her ear, "I'm going to need you to not call me 'Cap' again while we're here."

"Oh," she breathes out. "So your teammates can call you Cap, but I can't?"

He presses his lips in a line and meets her eyes. "It doesn't sound sexy coming out of their mouths like it does yours," he mumbles. "So, please don't call me Cap or Captain while we're here or you'll find yourself on your knees in the bathroom helping me with my little problem."

A small smirk forms on her lips as she takes a bite of pasta. "It's not a 'little' problem, Quinn," she tells him. "It's a pretty big problem."

Quinn groans and rubs his hands over his face. "You're killing me," he groans. "Oh my God."

She giggles and takes another bite of pasta like the conversation isn't ruining the panties she has on under the dress. Quinn follows suit and begins to eat his plate of food.

Their tablemates join them a few minutes later with their own plates. She converses with Lexie and Natalie Miller while their husbands talk with Quinn and Brock. She laughs with them, but the entire time, she thinks about the little conversation she and Quinn had about calling him Cap or Captain.

She's absolutely trying it when they get home to see what kind of reaction she gets out of him when he isn't surrounded by his friends.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They leave the event once Quinn gives a little speech to hype up his teammates. Tocchet also gives a speech once Quinn was done, but he needed to stay until he was done talking. He orders an Uber back to their Vancouver apartment before Tocchet is even done his speech so they can leave as soon as he's done.

The Canucks applaud their head coach for his speech and they make a break for the door before anyone can stop them. Quinn has her hand in his as they make their way outside. Their Uber is waiting for them when they exit the building.

Quinn slides in first and she follows him. One of her hands rests on his knee and she leans over to say, "You looked good while you were giving your little speech." She pauses for a beat. "Captain Quinn."

His head snaps in her direction. "What did I tell you-"

"Just wanted to see something," she giggles as she glances down at the growing bulge in his already tight pants. "And I see what I wanted to see." Her voice drops a couple of octaves so only he can hear. "Do you like when I call you Captain, Quinn?"

He gnaws on his bottom lip. "You're playing a very dangerous game right now," he warns her. "I'm not trying to ruin these pants."

She leans into him and says against his ear, "Then maybe you shouldn't like to be called 'captain' by your girlfriend." Her lips touch the swell of his ear as she talks. Quinn shivers under her lips before she pulls back to meet his eyes. She finds his usually bright eyes dark with lust.

She's not sure she's going to make it into the apartment if she keeps playing this game with him.

"You are ..." Quinn trails off with a smile and a shake of his head. She grins while he tries to find the words to say. "Something else." His fingers trace the slit in her dress, leaving goosebumps behind where he touches her skin.

The Uber comes to a stop two minutes later. She doesn't risk saying another word until they're in the building. The elevator is probably not the best place to say anything either.

Still, it doesn't stop her from poking the bear though.

"Captain Quinn Hughes," she pretends to think out loud. "Even after a year, it still roles off the tongue. Don't you think, Cap?"

"Oh my fucking God," Quinn groans as he turns to face his girlfriend.

Before she can react, Quinn cups her cheeks and pulls her into a hot kiss. He steps so her back is pressed against the wall of the elevator. She grips his jacket as he presses his chest completely against hers. Quinn shoves a thigh between her legs, moving the dress to the side so his thigh presses against her already damp core.

This is a side of Quinn she's pretty sure she hasn't seen in their two and a half years together. He's very particular about his touches and his movements. Slightly rougher with them as well. She might like this side of Quinn.

The elevator dings once it arrives at their floor. Quinn pulls back and grabs her hand as the doors slide open. "Let's go, pretty girl," he says to her, voice soft. "You need to help me with my not-so-little problem before it ruins these pants."

She giggles as Quinn leads her out of the elevator and down the hall to their apartment. It's a moment before Quinn gets the door open but once he does, he pulls her inside and pins her against the door to shut it.

Quinn holds her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "I hope this dress didn't cost a lot," he says. "Because it might end up torn and on the floor tonight.”

“Quinn Hughes, you better not rip this dress because if you do, you’re buying me a new one,” she warns him. “I mean it too. You better not.”

He grins and hooks his fingers around the spaghetti straps that sits on her shoulders. “I guess I’ll be nice,” he sighs as he pulls the strap off her shoulders. Quinn's eyes fall to the fabric that he pulls down to expose her breasts.

There's about one second between when the fabric pools around her waist and when Quinn crashes his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their lips mold against each other and his hands cup her breasts. She groans into the kiss and he takes full advantage to explore her mouth with his tongue.

She pulls his suit jacket off his body and it falls to the floor with a light thud. She pushes him toward their bedroom without breaking the kiss.

In the very short trip from their front door to their bedroom, she loses her heels and dress in the hallway while Quinn's tie ends up on the living room floor and his button up gets unbuttoned and untucked as they enter their bedroom. She jumps and wraps her legs around his waist. He kicks the door shut and walks toward their bed.

"What do you want me to do, Cap?" she questions between kisses.

"You know, every time one of my teammates calls me Cap, I'm going to think of you and it's going to end in endless teasing for me," Quinn points out as he sits on the mattress. He pulls back to look at her. "If my teammates mess with me because I get hard after one of them refers to me as Cap, it won't end well for you since it'll be your fault."

She feigns being hurt. "Ouch, Quinn," she says. "I guess I'll never call you Cap ever again."

"I didn't say that," Quinn very quickly replies. "Just letting you know what will happen."

“I’m so scared,” she teases.

“Shut up and get on your knees, pretty girl.”

His stern voice when he says that shoots straight down to her core. She bites her bottom lip as she slides off of Quinn’s lap and to her knees on the carpeted floor below her.

Her fingers work at unbuttoning his dress pants. She pulls them down along with his boxers. His hard dick stands up against his stomach when it’s free from the confines of his underwear. She takes him in her hand and looks up at him. She gnaws on her lip before she says, “Whatever you say, Cap.”

Quinn groans at the same time she wraps her lips around the fiery red tip. She tastes some precome that has leaked as she takes more of his dick in her mouth. His fingers curl in her wavy locks as she hollows her cheeks and sucks. She looks up at him as he throws his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck," Quinn breathes out. The reaction she gets out of him causes her to speed up her actions. Her hands are splayed over his thighs so she has something to hold on to. Not to mention that she just loves his thighs.

She manages to take all of him in her mouth without choking, and Quinn loves every second of it. He gnaws on his bottom lip and soft sounds rise from his throat. It's music to her ears as she takers him completely in her mouth and hums around him.

Quinn can't seem to get enough.

When her knees start screaming at her from being on the carpet for too long, she ignores it. What Quinn wants, Quinn gets. She's done this so many times that the pain doesn't get to her like it used to, but sometimes it .

She hollows out her cheeks and Quinn hums before he pulls her off his dick by her hair. She hums and looks up at her. His thumbs brush her probably swollen lips and she kisses the pads of his thumbs.

"Was that okay?" she questions like she always does after she sucks him off. Quinn raises his eyebrows at her and she grins. "Cap."

He nods and leans down to kiss her. His kiss is softer this time as he helps her back up so she's straddling his thighs. She runs her fingers through his styled hair and Quinn falls so he's lying on his back. His dick pokes her thigh and she wiggles her hips to tease him.

"These need to come off, pretty girl," he mumbles against her lips at the same time he taps the waistband of her panties. "I'm sure they're ruined at this point anyway."

She stands up to push the ruined fabric off her body. Quinn moves back so his head rests on the pillows. She presses her lips together in a line as she crawls back onto the mattress. She straddles his waist and leans over to press a long, deep kiss to his lips. Quinn hums and cups her jaw with his hands so she can't go anywhere.

Without breaking the kiss, she lifts her hips and rests the tip of his dick at her entrance. He slips right in because of how wet she is. A grin forms on her lips as she says, "Wanna ride you, Cap. Please."

"You don't need my permission, pretty girl," Quinn replies between hot kisses.

She hums as she lowers herself onto him. The familiar and welcomed stretch greets her. Quinn's hands land on her waist so she doesn't lose her balance. He bottoms out in her and she allows herself a few seconds to adjust before moving her hips.

The room is quickly filled with her soft moans as she rolls her hips. He helps her keep a steady pace that works for both of them. The kiss breaks but she doesn't go very far. Her forehead rests on his and her lips ghost his every time she moves.

Despite how they got here, she loves when she falls into bed with her boyfriend. No matter the reason, Quinn always focuses on both their pleasure. He makes sure that both of them feel good for however long they go.

Adding a little spice in the bedroom, like this captain thing that Quinn has going on right now, is one of her favorite things too. She's never against trying new things. She's not against this captain thing that he has going on.

Quinn starts moving his hips to match her pace. She groans and pushes herself up so she's sitting on his waist. She keeps her pace though. Her head is thrown back in pleasure and Quinn's hands roam her body.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes out. "You look so good riding my dick, pretty girl."

He moves one of his hands until he's rubbing her clit. She cries out his name and rests her hands on his torso. "Quinn," she gasps. "Oh my God." He stops. "Cap. Captain. Captain Quinn. Don't stop. Please." Those words pass her lips before her brain processes what she wants to say, but her end goal remained the same. Quinn continues rubbing her clit and she hums.

Her movements get frantic and inconsistent as she gets closer to her orgasm. Quinn wraps his arms around her waist and rolls them over so her head is on the pillow. He throws her legs over his shoulders and begins moving his hips.

The new angle has her legs shaking because his dick hits her favorite spot. She grabs his arms and cries out his name. "Oh my- fuck," she gasps. "Quinn, Quinn Quinn. Oh my God." He doesn't stop this time, but he slows down. "Cap, I'm so close. Please."

"Come for me, pretty girl," Quinn pants. "Want you to make a mess on my dick."

It's not very long after that when she comes. Her entire body clenches and she cries out Quinn's name so loud that their neighbors absolutely heard her. Her vision whitens and she's in cloud 9 from how hard she comes.

She's so out of it that she doesn't realize that Quinn pulls out and comes on her thighs. She has no idea that he cleans her up, only that he touches her sensitive core with a wet cloth. Her body melts into the mattress as she recovers.

When she comes to, Quinn is crawling back into bed. She musters up enough strength to turn her head and look at him.

"You okay?" he asks with a smile on his swollen lips. "Lost you for a moment."

She nods and rolls so she's curled up next to Quinn. "You really like when I call you Cap," she teases him. His cheeks turn red. "It's fine, Quinn. You don't need to get all flustered about it. If it's your thing, then it's my thing too. I wouldn't mind doing that again. It showed me a whole new side of you that I think I like."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Then we might have to do that again," Quinn tells her. "But please. For the love of everything, do not call me Cap or Captain around the team. It's going to take me a second to get over tonight, or get used to those words leaving your mouth."

She giggles and throws her leg over his waist so she's laying on his chest. "You say the word and I'll start using your nickname," she tells him. "Cap."

Quinn rolls his eyes, but she knows he loves it.

༺──────────────༻

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[oraltraditionfiction]

Trinkets | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: Quinn returns home from a roadie, and brings something back for you.

WC: 402

Author's Note: Y'all im a sucker for a snowglobe i fear 😔 - 🐇

You’re not alerted to him coming home from the sound of the bags hitting the floor, or even by his voice calling out for you. Rather it’s the soft pattern of his footsteps against the rug outside your apartment door that has you peeking over the back of the couch in anticipation. Before his gear has even clattered to the floor, or he’s toed off his shoes, you’re leaping into his arms. 

“Quinn!” You coo as you land right where you belong. He responds in equal fashion, breathing your name out on the crest of an almost wistful sigh. He tucks his head neatly into the crook of your neck.

You break the hold, stretching up to place a kiss on his cheek. “Missed you,” you murmur into his temple.

He straightens up at this, craning his neck back at the bags he had dropped unceremoniously at the door. “I almost forgot,” he says as you tilt your head, intrigued.

“Forgot what?”

“I got you something.” Matter of factly. As if this was something he had done before, something you had come to expect.

“Oh!” You nod, watching him root through his bags. “Why?”

Quinn stands up, holding a small gift bag in one hand. “No reason,” he says sheepishly, rubbing his face.

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh out, “are you blushing right now?” 

“No!” He says, eyes wide, and ears clearly flushed. 

“You are!” Reaching a hand up to cup his now red cheek. “Don't worry babe, I think it’s sweet that you’re flustered.”

Quinn holds the gift bag in your direction, turning his warm face away from you and into your hand. “I just thought of you when I saw it.” He says as you reach into the bag, pulling out an ornate hand painted snow globe. “Yknow. Just something to remember me when I’m gone. Like you can watch over me or something.”

“Oh Quinn,” you breathe, holding the trinket up to the light. He wraps his arms around you, placing his head on top of yours as you examine the gift. 

“I was thinking that maybe you could start collecting them,” he says into your hair, “I could get you one when I go away.”

You nod, turning in his arms to embrace him. As you wrap your arms around him you can see written on the bottom of the snow globe.

Wishing you were here.

Love, Quinn

[captain-bubble-wrap]

You have to do it! Grocery shopping with Quinn! 🛒 ☺️

Because of those shopping gifs, huh? I know the ones!

"Ready, babe?" Quinn spoke louder than his usual, putting on his flat-billed hat in the mirror while he waited for you at the door. He had been ready to go for a few minutes but would never purposefully rush you, especially for something as mundane as grocery shopping. He really didn't want to go but the house was looking a little bare and the fridge was near depleted of anything fresh. It was simply time to go.

Quinn had told you that he was fine going solo but you had insisted on keeping him company, and didn't think it fair to make him go alone when you used equally as much of everything as he did, if not more especially when he was on the road.

"Yeah, I'm ready!" You said, hurrying from somewhere else in the apartment. You were still buttoning your coat when you got to his side.

"You look cute," he commented, wrapping his arms around you for a moment.

You smiled, "Thanks, babe! You don't look too bad yourself!"

Quinn would laugh and give you a quick kiss before opening the door for you. You had no idea where the two of you were headed, but anywhere with Quinn was a good place to be. Outside, it was much colder than it was normally due to the Artic blast moving through the region, and it made being outside quite uncomfortable. Thankfully, you wouldn't have too far to walk, in any of your errand stops, but when the air hurt to breathe -- it was never ideal.

"I don't think I've ever missed the rain so much in my life," you joked, climbing into the passenger seat.

"This isn't my favourite either," he replied clicking both seat warmers on as soon as the car was started. "Won't take long now. You know you can stay home, babe. No sense in you being cold if you don't have to."

"I know, but I don't want you to go alone!"

Quinn shook his head as he smiled, "Babe--"

"I know, I know, you don't mind," you mocked him playfully. "But I mind, so I'm going with you!"

"You're ridiculous," he laughed. "Alright, well, if you're sure. Off we go."

- - -

"I'm going to drop you at the door then I'll go find a parking spot," Quinn said, pulling into the lot. "And before you say anything, I want you to go inside and be warm."

Mustering the deepest pout you could, you looked at Quinn as the car came to a stop, but he wasn't having any part of it. "Quinn--"

"Babe, just trust me, please."

"Fiiiiiine," you whined, slipping out of the car and going into the store alone. You'd stay just inside the automatic doors and wait to see where he parked. Everyone and their mothers seemed to be out shopping today, forcing Quinn to have to park in the near back lot. He looked so miserable as he rushed toward the store, trying to duck down in to his coat as his hands were buried in his pockets. When the double doors opened, he'd make his way to you, his cheeks red from the harsh air.

"Brrr!" Quinn remarked, putting an arm around you. "It's cold in here, too!"

"Says the hockey player!"

He laughed, sheepishly, "It's not that cold on the ice like it is outside!"

"Fair enough," you teased. "Basket or cart?"

"Probably cart. Stock you up before I go out of town next week."

You looked down at being reminded that Quinn would soon be leaving for more games away from home. Your bed wouldn't be as warm, there would be no one to share a bath with before bed, no one to laugh with over dinner in the evenings, and the apartment would soon be deafly quiet. Being unable to keep your expression from dropping, you would turn your face away from him for a moment to keep from crying in public.

Quinn, always in tune with your usual moods would notice this change and would ask you about it after returning from getting you both a cart. "You got quiet, babe. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you mumbled, picking up a random item to look at it as if you were interested in taking it home.

"I didn't think you liked peanut butter," he quipped, leaning over your shoulder at the package of fudge you were holding.

"I-- don't," you said, unable to lie, and putting it back on the display you had robbed it from. Your cover was blown before you could even get behind it. Damn Quinn for being so quick sometimes, though you knew he hated when you kept things from you, namely when things were bothering you.

"Did I say something?" Quinn questioned, his hand resting on your waist, hoping you'd look at him.

"No, baby, it's me being sad over you leaving," you finally confessed, only looking at him after you had spoken your truth. "I'm just-- being a baby."

"You're my baby," he would whisper in your ear, in the hopes that it might make you smile if only because of how cringe it had been. "I know you don't like when I leave, and trust me, I know how it feels."

Your eyes were beginning to sting, fighting against your emotions, "I know it's your job, Quinn. I'm not trying to be one of those girls who comes off all spoiled and selfish. I just-- I just miss you."

Quinn smiled, bringing his lips to your forehead while you still faced him. "I know you do, and I don't think you're being selfish. You understand that this is my life. No one says it's easy, sweetheart."

With a sigh you leaned into him, face buried in the curve of his neck. At the moment, you didn't care that you were in public, having an episode of emotional weakness. You were in Quinn's arms and safe, everyone else could kick rocks. They didn't need to understand.

"Do you want to go home, babe?" He asked, leaning his head against yours.

You wouldn't answer him, you'd just shake your head slightly.

"For what it's worth, I'm not gone yet," he said with a smile in his tone.

This would get you to pull your eyes back to his. He had a point, and one that you were thankful for.

"I sorry, Quinn," you apologized solemnly. "I shouldn't be that way."

He kissed you again, knowing it often fixed things when you were feeling down, but he felt that you were struggling. "You're perfectly fine. I should be more careful with my words."

"You don't need to do that. I'll be okay. Maybe one day it won't hurt as bad-- but...I dunno."

Frowning, Quinn would touch your cheek, but his hands were cold. You'd take it in both of yours and try your best to give him a smile. "I love you. Sorry you have to put up with me like this."

"I just hope I help instead of making you sad."

"You do, I promise."

On that positive note, the two of you would finally get back to the reason of why you were there in the first place. "Should we get to shopping?" He laughed.

"Probably!"

- - -

"Bread?" He asked, standing before a literal wall of options.

"Oh, yeah! Sourdough!"

"Which is--," he stammered, watching you pinpoint the loaf you were after before he could finish his question. "That-- was oddly impressive."

"I know my bread!"

"That you do," he laughed, as you placed in in the cart. "What else do you want?"

Looking at the contents of the cart, you wondered if there was anything else that you needed. There was meat, vegetables and fruit, there were even a couple bottles of wine, and nothing else was ringing in your brain that you needed to get. That would likely hit you only after you were home.

"I can't think of anything. Is there anything you want?"

Quinn looked just as lost as you did which is probably why he laughed at your question. "I can't think of anything either."

"Oh! I know!" You said, excitedly. "I've been craving breaded shrimp!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Remember those sushi rolls I made with the fried shrimp, avocado and cucumber?"

His face lit up at the mention of sushi, "Those were so good! Are you saying we're having sushi for dinner?"

"Of course!"

- - -

"Here, take my card. I'm going to run out and get the car started and then I'll meet you out front and get them loaded, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said before placing another kiss your forehead. "Wait for me inside, please."

Not wanting to argue with him when he was being so kind and considerate, you nodded while he headed for the harsh world outside the store. It would take a while to get everything scanned and bagged, but eventually the time had come to brace for going back out into it.

Quinn was right where he said he would be, the silver SUV rolling into view when he saw you waiting there. He'd get out and insist on taking the cart while you got into the warmed interior of the car.

"I can help you," you begged, talking to him from the front seat.

"It's alright, babe, you just sit tight. I'm alright. Hockey player, remember?"

You'd roll your eyes at him while smiling. "I offered."

"I know you did, and I appreciate it."

Once everything was said and done, the heat was set on full as the two of you headed off from the grocery; safe and sound from the blistering wind battering the car.

"Anywhere else we need to go?" He asked, a cold hand finding your thigh.

"I just want to go home."

"Home it is."

[puckinghischier]

Quick Study

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

WARNING: SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem!recieving, oral m!receiving, p in v, smut with the smallest sliver of plot. praise kink if you squint sideways and upside down.

summary: quinn loves to help you experience new things

notes: so…i don’t know what happened i think i blacked out tbh. this is kinda on theme with the request but also kinda not?? more so inexperienced!reader than in innocent!reader. idk my fingers had a mind of their own okay? enjoy 🫶🏼

request: I read a post that headcanons Quinn getting off on teaching you things and how to do things well, and that has just convinced me he has a thing for innocence… feel like that could be a great premise for smut

[4.4k]

Quinn has always been praised for his patience and willingness to teach those around him. It’s likely what landed him his new captain residency, but he likes teaching. He always said if he didn’t make it in the league he’d like to be a teacher and a coach, spreading his knowledge of history and hockey to the next generation.

What he didn’t realize until he met you, though, was how much he really enjoyed teaching.

He loved explaining the game to you, seeing your eagerness to pay attention and learn for him. Watching you glance at the cheat sheet he made you on your phone during games, making sure you’re able to keep up with the various penalties called, has him puffing out his chest a bit.

He loved explaining to you the most recent book he was reading, telling you all about the time period and the historical context of whatever story piqued his interest that week. He’d notice the empty space on the bookshelf after he finishes the book, glancing over to your side of the bed to discover the book with your bookmark tucked neatly between its pages, heart swelling when you’d bring it up over dinner, wanting to learn about his interests.

What he loved the most, though, was figuring out everything he could teach you.

He knew when the two of you first met that you were fairly inexperienced, not having ever really dated much before, but once he realized how inexperienced you really were? His mind went wild with the possibilities.

There was a certain pride he felt in being the person to guide you through all of these new experiences, never rushing you, always making sure you were one hundred percent comfortable before he tried anything new. He encouraged you to ask as many questions as you needed, telling you there’s never any reason to feel embarrassed around him.

He’d note the way you’d sit there and take in every word as he explained the different scenarios and sensations certain actions could elicit from your body, eyes wide and hungry. The second he would open the conversation for any questions or clarifications he could see the nervousness creep in, almost retracting into yourself out of embarrassment.

“I just…I don’t know exactly what you mean. You can…you know…feel that just from your mouth?” you’d ask him, voice barely above a whisper and eyes darting all over the room.

“Oh, darling, I can’t wait for you to experience the amount of things I can make you feel with my mouth,” he would nearly groan out, both angered and thankful that no other guy you’ve ever been with allowed you to experience all that the body has to offer.

Your cheeks would instantly heat, but not out of embarrassment. Quinn could see the gears turning in your head, the slight adjustment of your thighs coming closer together hinting to him how much you’re enjoying the picture painted in your head.

The day you told Quinn you had never experienced an orgasm, though? He was nearly seeing red.

“What do you mean you’ve never ‘gotten there’” he repeated your own words, not realizing the harsh tone of his voice until you looked away from him, watching your face contort into an expression of guilt.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, the couple of times I’ve actually…you know…went there with a guy, it never really happened. I guess I was doing something wrong, I don’t know,” you spoke softly, shrugging meekly.

Quinn took a deep breath, calming himself the way he would on the ice, before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You could never do anything wrong, you hear me? The fact that the fools you were with before were too sorry to make sure you were taken care of, and apparently didn’t know what the hell foreplay was, is not your fault.”

Nodding slowly, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on it lightly. “I think…I want you to show me,” you said so quietly Quinn thought he imagined it.

“Say that again?” he needed you to clarify, wanting to make sure he’s not just hearing what his dick wants to hear.

You inhale, preparing yourself to put on your brave face and finally find the courage to tell a guy what you want. “I want you to show me. Teach me what it’s like. I want to experience it with you.”

And damn. If that didn’t get Quinn’s dick rock fucking hard. The idea of showing you everything you’ve been missing, everything he knows he can make you feel? He could almost come right here on the couch, never even having to touch your skin.

Quinn didn’t say a word, simply grabbing your hand and prompting you to stand, leading you to the bedroom that was practically shared at this point, considering how often you stayed at his apartment.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you and looking down at your big, round eyes. He had to remind himself this was about you, and not to get too ahead of himself.

Bringing a hand up to caress your face, brushing away a small strand of hair, he rests his hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your soft, pink lips. Using the slightest bit of pressure, he wedges his thumb in-between them, causing them to part just enough for him to slip it into your warm and inviting mouth.

He feels your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger, never once breaking eye contact with him. He closes his eyes, the image in front of him overloading his brain. The second you start to suckle on the rough pad of his digit, he jerks his hand back, surprising you.

“Sorry, did I do something wro-“

“No, never,” he interrupts you, voice low and gravely. “But this is about you and I can’t let myself get carried away.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the flush come back to your cheeks, watching the outline of your tongue rolling around in your cheek. “I want to learn,” you look at him with pleading eyes.

“I know, baby, we’re gonna get there, promise,” he assures you, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You shake your head back and forth, “No, I want to learn how to please you.”

Quinn can feel every ounce of blood in his body make its way straight to his already near painful cock. The innocence and eagerness on your face making his knees buckle.

“I’ve never…given a…a blowjob before,” you stuttered, your bashfulness from earlier coming back. “I never felt like I’d do a good job, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and scare them away, so I always said no. But I want you to teach me. Please?” you pleaded, using your eyes to convey your willingness.

If there was ever a world record for how fast a man can come without even being touched, Quinn would say he’s a pretty close contender right now.

He clears his throat, trying to choke down the groan that nearly came out. “I- uh. Are you sure?” is all he’s able to sigh out, feeling like an idiot because he can’t even form words.

You nod your head silently, not knowing if you could find the courage to ask again.

“Fuck, baby,” Quinn shudders, swallowing thickly, bringing a hand down to readjust himself in his sweats.

Figuring you need to show some sort of initiative, you bring your hand up to replace his, cupping him over the thin material.

Quinn’s entire body jerks forward at the feeling of your small hand covering him, resting his hands on your shoulders for support.

Your breath catches, not expecting to receive such a reaction from him, but it only encourages you to keep going, squeezing just enough to apply a slight pressure to his length.

Quinn grunts, shuddering at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice, a slight whine but still deep and powerful, shoots a bolt of arousal straight between your legs. You start stroking his still clothed shaft, enjoying teasing him.

“Show me what to do, Q,” you whisper seductively, his actions only growing your confidence in your actions.

With his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, he wastes no time in moving your hand and ripping the sweatpants down so roughly his dick literally springs free. He sighs at the lack of constriction, creating a sweet friction with his own hand.

Seeing him bare for the first time, you feel the extra saliva form in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around him and find out how his skin tastes.

Too lost in the beauty of the man in front of you, you don’t realize he’s gazing down at you, watching how in awe you are of him.

“Babygirl, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to last longer than three seconds once you start touching me,” he snaps you out of your daze, drawing your eyes to his face.

You blush, focusing on the bedroom floor to hide your eyes from him.

Bringing his hand back up to your face, he forces you to look up at him, the intensity of the moment making you squirm.

“Touch me,” he commands, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your chin.

Following his instructions, you grasp him in your hand again, moving your hand gently across the textured skin.

You pump slowly, waiting for Quinn to tell you your next move.

“Shit, faster,” is all he whimpered, moving his hips to meet your motions.

Moving your wrist a little faster, you’re so taken with the sounds he’s making you hardly feel the bruising grip he has on your shoulder, grounding himself to you.

“Quinn, wanna taste you,” you whined, watching the precum leak from his pink tip, tongue darting out to lick your lips in anticipation.

“Okay, just-” he shudders, interrupted by a moan, “just, no teeth. And don’t take too much, hollow your mouth out a bit, and keep using your hand if you need to.”

Belly swirling with nerves and excitement, you position yourself a little farther onto the edge of the bed, face to face with his strained cock.

Taking a deep breathe, you test the waters by placing a chaste kiss on his tip, licking the salty precum off of your lips. Opening your mouth, you take the plunge and follow his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as your mouth rolls over his length, your tongue feeling the weight of his thickness.

You look up at him as he watches you, waiting for any hint of praise in what you’re doing, wanting to make sure you’re doing it right.

“Shit, just like that, baby, keep going,” he encourages, feeling you stop when his tip tickles the back of your throat.

You will yourself not to gag, enjoying the feeling of your tongue against his cock too much. Trying to combat the feeling, you swirl your tongue around him, feeling every ridge and vein.

Quinn is fighting against every muscle in his body, from wanting to bring his hands to your head and push your mouth further onto him, to wanting to snap his hips forward and bury his dick in your throat.

“Can move a bit if you want,” he hisses out as your tongue runs across his sensitive tip once again. “Doing so good, though. Feels unreal. Don’t know how you’ve never done this before.”

You want to smile, but can’t with your mouth full of him, so you start bobbing your head instead, slow and careful. You bring your hand up to cup his balls, remembering one of your friends telling you guys seem to like that.

Quinn jerks his hips forward at the feeling, not being able to control his actions at that point, dangerously close to blowing his load down your throat.

He removes himself from your mouth, watching the spit trail down your chin. The sight is so pornographic he almost finishes anyways, digging his nails into his palms as a distraction.

“Was-,” you start, wiping the dribble off of your mouth, “was I not doing it right? I remember someone telling me once guys liked when you touched them like that. Did I scrape you with my teeth? Did I-“ your hoarse voice is abruptly cut off by Quinn shoving his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet.

“You were amazing. Too good. If you would’ve kept doing that for even thirty more seconds I would have come in your mouth, and while the thought drives me insane, there’s only one place I want to come tonight,” he tells you, bringing his hand down to untie your soft pajama pants as he finishes his sentence, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your stomach.

You suck in a sharp breathe as he starts rolling the pants down your hips, exposing your simple, cotton underwear.

“Well, if I knew this is what we were doing tonight I would’ve dressed more appropriately,” you said softly, wanting nothing more than to bring your arms down to cover the exposed skin.

Quinn chuckles. “You could be wearing a diaper for all I care. I’d still be rock hard at the sight of you like this.”

“Weird, but sweet?” you respond, trying to break up the intensity you feel as you kick the bottoms off of your feet.

Amused smile on his face, Quinn shakes his head at you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the thin material.

You shake your head yes, knowing there’s no going back after this moment.

“Words, babydoll, ‘member?” he mumbles, staring at your taut nipples through the shirt.

“Yes. To everything. I trust you,” you breathe out.

Quinn’s heart jumps to his throat, surprised at how excited the confession makes him. Knowing he has your complete and total trust with something as important as this adds a whole new level to what he’s about to experience with you.

The shirt is over your head before you can think twice, standing almost bare in front of him.

“Shit baby, knew you were stunning,” he starts but pauses, letting his eyes rake over every inch of exposed skin. “but think you were painted just for me,” he worships your body, trailing his fingers over the dips in your collar bones in awe, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Your turn,” you whisper, feeling the flush on your cheeks, not wanting to be the only one on display.

Not being able to take his eyes off of the smooth skin of your body, he removes the rest of his clothing before you can even blink, staring at the toned man standing in front of you.

Of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, considering he never likes to wear a shirt to bed, and having spent a weekend at his lake home a few months ago. But to see him completely naked before you is a sight you never want to forget.

Breaking the stare you both hold on each other, he moves your body to lay down on the bed, guiding you to move further up the bed as he crawls over you, stopping when your head rests on one of the million pillows.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he pants from above you, bringing his mouth down to place wet kisses along your neck.

You inhale deeply, the feeling lighting all of your nerves on fire.

Too distracted by the feeling of his tongue darting out to swirl along your skin, you don’t notice his hand has made its way to the band of your underwear, slipping a finger just under the barrier.

“Off, take them off,” you pant out, wanting the fabric gone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeys, sliding the material off of your body in record time.

Quinn forgot everything he was supposed to be doing when he saw you bare before him. He could practically smell your arousal, watching your pussy glisten in the low light of the bedroom.

“Bet you taste so good, hmm?” he rasped out, sounding like a man starved.

Squirming, your body fights to find some sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs, never having felt so turned on before.

“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, Quinny,” you whimper, wanting to know what you’re supposed to be doing, desperate for relief.

Your desperation makes his cock throb, having forgot how hard he was, too distracted by you. But to watch you writhe and whine and look to him for guidance makes him painfully aware of how much this is all affecting him.

“Absolutely nothing. Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, darling,” he all but pants, licking his lips like he’s about to eat a five-star meal.

He moves his body down yours, shamelessly dragging his lips down your warm skin, taking his time and savoring every inch.

Once he reaches your soaking cunt, he teases you with hot breaths, wanting to admire every fold and crevice before exploring you with his mouth.

Placing small kisses on both thighs, letting his scruff scratch the sensitive skin, he finally lets his mouth find your core.

Licking a clean stripe up from your hole to your clit, he grips onto your legs, baffled by how good you taste on his tongue. He dives in like he’s never known such a luxury, slurping and sucking every inch of your perfect pussy.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, the pleasure overwhelming. You don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling like you’re flailing your limbs all over the place. Moaning and grunting, Quinn can sense your frustration with not knowing how to express your pleasure.

“Touch my hair. Pull it, tug it, hold on to it. Whatever you need to do. Just touch me,” he instructs you, the vibration of his words on your clit causing you to cry out, tangling both hands into his soft hair.

Quinn groans at the delicious pull on his scalp as you use his hair as your outlet, feeling his dick brush against the comforter as it twitches. He starts to grind against the mattress, not enough to push him over the edge, but enough to provide him with temporary relief.

He continues his assault on your dripping core, not caring if he were to drown in your arousal, loving how it practically leaks out of you, not wasting a single drop.

Once he feels you’re ready, he brings a finger up, slipping it inside of you and feeling your walls instantly clench around him. The sensation only drives him further, burying his nose deeper into you, if that was even possible.

Pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, he adds a second, ensuring you’re ready for him in the minutes yet to come.

Arching your back at the fullness of two of his long, thick fingers, you carry out a particularly rough tug of his hair, earning a moan so loud you want to do whatever you can to hear it again.

“Feel so good, Q. Never – ah! – knew I could feel like this,” you groaned, digging your heels into the bare skin of his shoulders.

“C’mon, know you’re almost there. Gotta let go f’me,” he grunts against you, feeling the flutter of your walls around him.

The unfamiliar pit in your stomach grows at his voice, never wanting him to stop talking to you.

“Oh, like that, huh? Like when I talk to you, pretty girl? Like when I use my voice while pressed up against your pussy?” Quinn asks you, feeling how you clenched when he spoke.

His vulgarness made the ball of pleasure grow even larger, threatening to pop at any moment.

Quinn hummed against your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, inhaling just enough to create a small vacuum of suction.

The new feeling caused something inside of you to explode, a pleasure burning throughout your whole body so intense you think you lose your hearing for a few moments.

Quinn rides you through your orgasm, licking and sucking every drop of physical pleasure from your body. When he removes his mouth from you, you’re laying limp under him, the look of bliss on your face sparking a feeling of pride within him.

You have no clue what just happened to your body, not registering a single thing until you felt Quinn’s fingers running through your damp hair, fluttering your heavy lids open.

“There she is. Thought you went and fell asleep on me,” he chuckles, caressing your bright red cheek.

“mmmm” you hummed out. “Think I can taste colors. What did you just do to me?” you ask him, starting to gain control over your body again.

Quinn full on laughs at you, hiding his face in his bicep. “I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me,” he marvels down at your state, knowing he was the first man to ever make you feel like this.

You’re trying to think of a clever or sexy response, but get distracted by something poking your leg. Looking down, you notice how hard and red Quinn’s dick is, remembering that he never finished earlier when you had him in your mouth.

“Oh!” you say in surprise, drawing attention to his…situation.

“What can I say? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” he references your intense release.

You bite your lip, almost embarrassed. “Well, I can think of something hotter,” you say quietly, reaching your hand down to grab his length.

Quinn gasps as the contact, the most sensitive he thinks he’s ever been.

“Now I want to watch you,” you can recognize the sound of your voice, not knowing what having an orgasm did to you.

Crashing his mouth onto yours, the first time he’s kissed you all night, your grips falls from his shaft, bringing your hands up to pull his shoulders closer to your body. The friction of his skin on your hard nipples alone is about to drive you over the edge again.

“Gonna wreck you, you know that? Wreck you like you’ve wrecked me,” Quinn says on your lips, bringing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.

You don’t know where the sudden rush and roughness came from, but you can’t say you’re disappointed. Something within him snapped hearing you express wanting to watch him come undone under your influence, and Quinn can’t control himself anymore.

“Show me, Q. Show me what I’ve missed all this time,” your mouth is operating on a mind of its own, not sure what part of your brain has been unlocked by Quinn’s magical mouth.

Quinn growls, hiking your leg up to rest around his waist, leaving the other flat on the bed, standing on his knees as he brings his hand to line himself up with your still dripping cunt, causing your hands to fall from his body. His own hand finds one of your full breasts, toying with the nipple, causing a sharp gasp to fall from your lips.

“Ready?” his voice goes soft for a second, wanting to make sure you’re still good.

“Please,” you whine in response, shaking your head yes.

As he slowly sinks himself into you, he realizes that he’s found his new favorite place. Buried deep inside of your heat, the warm squeeze against his rigid cock, is what he was put on this earth to enjoy, he thinks to himself.

Your whimpers are the perfect soundtrack as he slides himself in and out of your slick, worried he’ll slip right out if he pulls out too much. The ease with which he glides through convinces him you were made for him. Every inch of you, made to be ruined by him.

“Tell me how to move,” you moan out. “Tell me how to make this – shit! – better for you. Teach me.”

Just like before, hearing you whine and beg for him to teach you, wanting to learn from him, has him losing all of his resolve. He completely slips himself out of you, slamming back into you with such force it takes your breathe away.

Hearing your gasp, Quinn brings his hand down, pressing on your lower belly to intensify the feeling of how deep he is inside of you right now.

“You’re perfect. Doing so good f’me. Best little student ever, know exactly what to do without even being told,” Quinn praises you, causing your brain to short circuit.

“Just wanna make you feel good, Q. Don’t wanna take all the fun for myself,” you respond to him, bringing your arms back up to the skin of his broad shoulders, raking your nails down the clammy skin, not realizing the burn of your nails down his back is the final string for Quinn.

He cries out, not wanting to come before you, but he’s so close he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.

Mustering all the resolve he has left, he removes his hand from your belly, bringing it down to circle your clit, pinching it every so lightly.

He feels it the second you reach your second release tonight, the squeeze of your walls as they clench around him making it impossible for him to pull out, triggering his own orgasm to leave his body and leak into you in spurts.

His body shakes from the sensation, letting out some of the most pornographic noises even he’s ever heard. And he was once a teenage boy with unlimited access to the internet.

The two of you come down from your highs together, Quinn’s hand letting your leg fall back down onto the bed, and slowly removing his softening cock from you, both of you whining at the loss of contact.

He flops down next to you, needing a moment to recover before he made any move to clean either of you up.

“So…that’s what I’ve missed out on for all these years?” you asked out loud through shallow breaths, not even turning your head to look at Quinn.

Quinn managed a small laugh, replying with a small “Told you it was them, not you.”

You turned on your side to finally look at your sexed out boyfriend, admiring the way his hair was damp with sweat and his lip was swollen and red from biting it out of pleasure.

“Well…I don’t think I quite grasped the concept. I think we need to do it again,” you proposed. “You know, for study purposes,” you shrugged.

And Quinn knew you were (mostly) joking, but he’ll be damned if his dick wasn’t already half hard again, not knowing what he was going to do with you now. A monster of his own creation.  

[hischierhoney]

Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

[goldfades]

pregnancy scares with luke hughes🤞🤞🤞 he would def be freaking out but it ends up being nothing!!!

you’re pretty sure luke hasn’t sat down for more than five seconds in the last hour. he’s pacing the length of the living room, one hand in his hair, the other holding his phone like he’s waiting for some kind of emergency alert to come through. it would almost be funny if you weren’t equally as on edge.

the unopened pregnancy test sits on the counter where you left it, staring at you like it knows you’re avoiding it. you don’t even have the energy to glare back at it—your nerves are too frayed. instead, you watch luke from your spot on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest like it’s some kind of lifeline.

“what if it’s positive?” he blurts out suddenly, stopping in his tracks to look at you, his blue eyes wide with panic. “like… what do we even do? do we call someone? your mom? my mom? oh god, my mom.”

“luke,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm even though your heart is pounding like a drum. “we don’t even know yet. let’s not jump to conclusions.”

he stares at you for a moment, then runs a hand down his face. “right. yeah. no conclusions. totally chill over here.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a nervous laugh, sinking down onto the arm of the couch. it doesn’t last long—he’s back on his feet within seconds, muttering something about how his brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“okay, but seriously,” he says, turning back to you, his hands flailing slightly in that way they do when he’s overwhelmed. “what if it’s real? like, what if we’re—what if you’re—”

“pregnant?” you finish for him, your voice quieter this time. the word hangs in the air between you, heavy and uncertain.

he nods, his expression softening as he looks at you. “yeah. that.”

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “then we figure it out. together.”

“together,” he repeats, like he’s testing the word out. he nods again, a little firmer this time, and for a second, it almost looks like he’s calming down.

and then he notices the test on the counter. “okay, no, i can’t do this anymore,” he says, running a hand through his hair again. “you have to take it. right now. i’m dying over here.”

“you’re dying?” you ask, a hint of exasperation creeping into your tone. “i’m the one who might be pregnant, luke.”

“exactly!” he says, throwing his arms out dramatically. “which is why we need to know, like, immediately.”

you roll your eyes but head toward the bathroom anyway, grabbing the test as you go. “you’re not allowed to say a word until i’m done,” you warn, and luke holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“not a word,” he promises, but the second the door closes behind you, you hear him mutter to himself, “a baby, though… that’d be kinda wild.”

you groan, trying to block him out as you do what the test requires, but by the time you’re done and waiting for the results, you can hear him outside the door, talking to himself at full speed.

“like, obviously, i’d teach them how to skate,” he says, his voice muffled but clear enough to make you laugh quietly to yourself. “they’d have to start early—i mean, that’s the key, right? i was skating at, what, three? two? can kids even walk at two?”

you open the door and lean against the frame, test still in your hand, watching as he paces the living room like he’s coaching his imaginary future kid through a big game. he doesn’t notice you right away, too caught up in his rambling.

“and names,” he continues, gesturing animatedly. “if it’s a boy, we could name him something strong, like—i don’t know, jack junior or something. no, wait, that’s awful. maybe something cool like—like hunter! or brody! oh my god, i’d totally have a brody.”

you clear your throat, and luke freezes mid-gesture, spinning to look at you like a kid caught stealing cookies. “uh, hi,” he says, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “how’d it go?”

“it’s still processing,” you say, holding up the test. “but, uh, sounds like you’ve been busy.”

his cheeks flush a deep red, but he grins, unabashed. “okay, but hear me out—if it’s a girl, we name her something badass. like, she could totally pull off a name like harper. or sutton. sutton hughes. tell me that doesn’t sound like a star.”

you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. “you’re already planning their whole life, and we don’t even know if there’s a them yet.”

“well, yeah,” he says, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “i mean, it’s kinda fun to think about, you know? like, little hockey practices, bringing them to the rink, teaching them how to chirp jack in the most creative way possible…”

you sit beside him, the test now lying face down on the coffee table, its results still unknown. “you’d be a good dad,” you say softly, watching as his grin softens into something a little more genuine.

“you think so?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply. “a chaotic one, maybe. but a good one.”

before he can respond, the timer on your phone goes off, signaling the test is ready. both of you freeze, the moment suddenly much heavier than the lighthearted banter that preceded it.

“you wanna look, or should i?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

luke swallows hard, then gestures toward you. “you. i’ll just—” he flops back dramatically against the couch cushions. “—be over here, dying inside.”

with a nervous laugh, you reach for the test, flipping it over. your eyes scan the result, and your shoulders sag with relief. “negative,” you say, holding it up for him to see.

luke lets out the loudest, most exaggerated exhale you’ve ever heard, his head falling back against the couch. “oh, thank god,” he says, a hand over his heart like he just avoided a near-death experience.

you laugh, watching as he sits up, still a little wide-eyed. “i thought you were ready to start a hockey dynasty,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“oh, don’t get me wrong,” he says with a grin. “i’m glad it’s not happening now, but, like… someday? sutton hughes is definitely gonna rule the world.”

you roll your eyes, laughing as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, but there’s no real bite to it.

“and you love me for it,” he quips, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you don’t reply, but the smile on your face says enough.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[cuteandhughesy]

Is It New Years Yet? | Quinn Hughes

summary: friends with benefits is great in theory but when the holiday season approaches, you begin to believe that may no longer be the case.

3.9k

warnings: SFW! friends with benefits | friends to lovers | jealousy | angst | kissing | suggestive scenes but no actual smut | read at your own discretion

a/n: based off this request! here it is, the last fic of cuteandhughesy’s christmas special! thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve given me through this special…I can’t thank you enough! stay tuned for my 2025 planner, which I plan to publish within the next few days :)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

the gold sequins covering your top are extremely irritating, rubbing your underarms raw with their sharp, shiny edges. in an attempt to not freak out and just walk right out the door, you take a long and exaggerated sip from your — 5th? maybe 6th? — glass of bubbly champagne.

beside you, bella gives you a concerned look— taking a much more delicate sip out of her own glass. she's been giving you the same glances for the past hour, and at this point you've completely pretended you weren't aware of them. because you're honestly embarrassed of your own actions— anytime the door of the miller's home squeaked open, your eyes would shoot over at an alarming rate, trying to see who was walking in...trying to see if it was him.

"he's probably on his way." bella's voice is soft—comforting, placing her tiny fingers on your wrist to grab your attention.

you decide to play dumb—nonchalant—though when you've had as many drinks as you've had, is practically impossible. "who?"

this time it's brock who gives you a look behind bella, but unlike the sympathetic look you've been getting from his girlfriend, brock's eyes glaze with vexation. he doesn't save you with sugary words or a reassuring smile, just a deadpan expression. "you know who, y/n/n. quinn."

you laugh through a raspberry, borderline snorting at his words.

brock sighs knowingly, very much used to the whole....thing you’ve got going on with quinn— and your denial that comes along with it.

"why would I care if quinn is coming?"

brock's brows raise. "nobody asked you that."

your face falls, your skin heating up with a mixture of embarrassment and the alcohol running ramped through your bloodstream. "well, I know what you were insinuating."

"wasn't insinuating anything-"

"alright," bella cuts of gently, squeezing brock's bicep in an almost warning manner—she knows better than to not argue with you when it comes to the topic of quinn hughes. "what brock is trying to say is that it's okay that you're looking for quinn, y/n/n. he said he'd be here by now."

you wave your hand, dismissing your friend nonchalantly. "I know. i'm not worried."

bella hums. "okay. but's it's fine if you are."

"i'm not. we're just friends."

anytime somebody would ask about your and quinn's seemingly suggestive relationship, they'd always look at you with disbelief when you'd tell them you're just friends. well, friends that suggestively cuddle, kiss and have sex...but friends nonetheless.

you met quinn in 2018 at a barbecue brock was hosting. you'd been friends with brock since you met at the coffee shop you'd worked at the year before—when you'd spilled his coffee all over the pick up counter right in front of him. oddly enough, he found you charming and the two of you became fast friends.

he quickly brought you into his hockey world, where you met many different people and athletes that soon became your extended friends. when brock introduced you to quinn right infront of the grill at said barbecue lunch, you'd just about died.

quinn was cute in a dorky way, shying away from your strong eye-contact and smiley face. with his quick wit, nerdy tendencies and independence, quinn hughes was exactly your type, and it wasn't long until you two grew close.

your strong friendship eventually shifted into a more sensual relationship, and you found yourselves in a little dance that others know as friends with benefits.

and that worked for you both. not only did you get the fun, relaxed and sweet side of a best friend, but you also got that dirty, dominant and sexy side of a boyfriend. you both basked in the comfortability your arrangement brought, as well as the intimacy shared between you.

but then something shifted. you noticed that you started to really care about how you looked around quinn, and how you acted. you begin to care about how quinn perceived you and what he thought of you. you'd get nervous when he'd lean in for a kiss after a hard game, and when his touches would linger you'd get filled with butterflies. you liked him — you still do.

it's just that…you know you shouldn't feel this way, especially for a friend, regardless of the sexual relationship between you. so you pretend and suppress your feelings in fear of loosing quinn completely—-because you've become completely reliant upon the connection between you, and the thought of losing that is heartbreaking.

bella sighs gently, but knowingly, raising her glass back towards her painted lips. "for sure."

a chorus of cheers sounds all around you, and the sudden shift in energy has you looking back towards the door. you try and peer through the mini crowd, moving through the space around large bodies of athletes to see who's captured the rooms attention.

you catch sight of familiar floppy brown hair, followed by quinn's unmistakable smile. instantly you feel lighter, and the grin that makes its way onto your face is probably embarrassing.

there's a petite blonde girl next to him—with perfect skin and a blinding smile. she daintily wraps her hands around quinn's bicep, eyes wide as she introduces herself to jt miller and his wife.

and just as quickly your smile fades, eyes darting away from the unfolding scene in front of you. bella says your name gently—sympathetically—reaching towards you as she grazes your arm.

you gently shake her off, plastering on a fake smile. "I'm going to get a refill." you shake your half full champagne glass in the general direction of the kitchen, a wordless action that speaks a million words.

it's not that you're upset that quinn's seemingly brought a girl with him to this new year's party. you're upset that it's making you feel so distraught and heartbroken. you shuffle through the room, slinking through warm bodies and smiling faces until you're walking into the kitchen.

you try and keep your unshed tears at bay, breathing deeply as you top up your flute of alcohol. "fucks sake." you mumble to yourself, taking a hearty sip of your drink.

"you good?" the deep voice of elias pettersson has you jumping. the swede is leaning against the counter casually, sipping what looks like glass of white wine, eyeing you amusingly.

"I didn't know you were in here." you say, turning towards the blonde slowly.

he hums, swallowing the mouthful of wine. "quinn here?"

"yup." you nod, popping the p.

"ah yes." elias sighs, looking behind you as he peers into the crowded space. he finds quinn quickly, the captain ever so lively around his friends— he also sees the girl next to him. "he's brought a friend."

you snort. "yeah I know all about being his friend."

the assistant caption eyes you gently, a small sympathetic pull at his mouth. "sorry y/n/n."

you've always liked elias. he's similar to brock in the way they both speak their mind and never feel the need to sugar coat the truth, but elias is often more laid back and less judgmental than brock can be. a lot of the time you think if you weren't in love with quinn, you'd be with elias.

an idea pops into your head, turning your rather solemn expression into a scheming one. you look at elias with a smile, to which he raises his brows questionably. "actually, do you mind helping me with something?"

he squints curiously. "what?"

you walk up to him slowly, your grin unwavering. as you reach elias, you gently trail your fingers down his exposed arm, tracing your nails over one of his bulging veins. "just follow my lead."

—

quinn has looked at you twice in the past 40 minutes...twice. the first time was when you walked out of the kitchen, clutching elias's arm as you leaned into him. quinn's brows pulled together questionably, eyeing you and his teammates close proximity, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention, directing you both towards the heart of the home where the mingling was happening.

the second time was only 10 minutes ago. you'd been watching your friend from a distance, a scowl on your face as you watch that blonde girl whisper in quinn's ear, raised on her toes with a small hand cupped around his ear. quinn had caught your jealous gaze, sending you an irritated look.

you scoffed, quickly turning your attention back to bella and brock, standing only with them while elias was getting you another drink.

you've been pulling out all the stops in an attempt to gets quinn's attention. if you weren't laughing loudly at everything elias said, you were touching him seductively or dancing against him — all things to try and spark jealousy in quinn.

but if anything, it was making you feel even worse about the situation. the weird and heartbroken emotions running through you—combined with the alcohol you'd been continuously drinking throughout the night— has you needing a breather.

you excuse yourself from elias with a mumble about the bathroom, and you don't really hear his gentle response as you stumble away, slinking though the crowded miller home towards the stair case.

thankfully the lighting in the house is dim, so nobody notices you climbing up towards the second floor, barley keeping yourself in a straight line— too caught up in your own thoughts and emotions to focus on anything but.

the spare bedroom is the first room you stumble upon, quickly slipping inside the beautifully decorated space and letting the door click shut behind you. now finally by yourself with nothing but the bass of the music downstairs tickling your feet, you let yourself fall apart.

the tears don't come immediately, but the sobbing noise that leaves your chest is instant and intense. you clutch the pendant of your necklace, grounding yourself as your emotions come bubbling to the surface.

not only are you feeling heartbroken and hurt by your own feelings for quinn, but you're now also feeling guilty for attaching yourself to his teammate all night in some sad attempt at trying to ignite jealousy. usually you'd be more mature about a situation like this, but once again the champagne in your system has other plans.

you wipe your face, praying that your makeup look doesn't go completely down the drain and you still look somewhat presentable. you think it must be nearing midnight, and you're sure bella and brock are wondering where you've slipped away too.

you sigh reluctantly, sniffling away any lingering emotion as you make your way back towards the door. just before you can reach for the handle, it turns before you, the door swinging open to reveal quinn.

his face changes at the sight of you. there's a flash of relief on his face, like he'd been looking for you and has finally found you. but that expression quickly changes as quinn pushes himself into the bedroom, closing the door quickly. he looks irritated—the kind of expression you'd see if he gets asked a stupid question by a reporter.

he looks you up and down quickly, assessing you with an unfamiliar pull at his lips. quinn meets your uncertain gaze. "you fucking elias now?"

you blink in shock, mouth falling open like you're a fish out of water. "what?" you're practically seething, looking at quinn with a distant glare.

he scoffs. "I think you heard me."

his condescending tone has you feeling angry and worse of all, judged—quinn is in no place to judge you after he's brought somebody with him tonight. "what if I am?" you question, irritation clear in your voice. you take a step towards him, anger radiating off of you. "why do you care?"

quinn makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, wide eyed as he steps closer to you. "why do I care? are you being serious right now?"

"yes, quinn." you huff, crossing your arms roughly. "you can't storm in here and start grilling me about what i'm doing in my personal life, when you've brought someone with you tonight. or have you already forgotten about her as well?"

you're being petty, you're well aware of that—but the wrath and embarrassment running through your bloodstream has you not caring.

quinn eyes you again, stepping even closer to you—his movements laced with disbelief and annoyance. "if you're implying that i've forgotten about you…well that's just straight stupid."

you laugh in disbelief. "oh! so now i'm stupid?"

"no — what you're saying is stupid."

you scoff for what feels like the hundredth time this conversation. you don't even want to be arguing with quinn, especially when you're drunk and feeling heartbroken— the latter unbeknownst to him. you swallow gently, attempting to suppress the emotion creeping up your throat. "who is she?"

quinn shakes his head, his expression turning softer as he analyses you—sensing your shift in emotion and body language. "she's nobody."

"she's nobody but you brought her here? that doesn't make sense." your eyes flicker to the shaggy rug under your feet, blinking away unshed tears. you've passed the sheer anger you'd been feeling, left only with disappointment and sadness. "are you fucking her?"

quinn rubs his stubble roughly, and you can practically see the whirlwind of thoughts running through his head. his eyes find your yours, a hard expression in his face. "are you fucking elias? i'm still waiting for that answer. because you seemed pretty cozy with him since I got here."

"yeah," you nod roughly. "and that's no thanks to you, quinn. you haven't even come up to me tonight. god forbid you greet me—your friend—when there's a girl on your arm."

"were not just friends and you know it. so don't start that with me." quinn's tone is firm—warning—taking a step closer to your ridged body. he's now close enough to reach out and touch, and you so badly are craving that intimacy. but you hold back, keeping your expression as neutral as possible despite wanting to close the distance between you.

"oh, okay. what are we then quinn?" you question, your tone hard and determined. in a moment of vulnerability, your expression shifts, voice creaking with emotion. "because i'm so lost here."

quinn's eyes flicker across your flushed face. he's slightly breathless, watching you, like he can't keep his breathing steady. you hadn't even realized that you started to cry until he gently reaches towards you, thumb delicately wiping away the tears before they continue to fall. "fuck, i'm sorry." quinn's other hand runs over your head, flattening down your styled hair. "I hate seeing you upset—hey look at me."

you meet his gaze once again, tearing it away from your shoes. quinn looks extremely guilty and concerned— the latter due to your clear distress and sadness. "i'm such an idiot." he mumbles softly, "you can hit me if you want."

his words, so genuine and lighthearted, has a small splurge of giggles bubbling up your chest. you shake your head, "I don't want to hit you."

the ghost of a smile pulls at his mouth, and he nods once. quinn's thumb gently runs over your cheekbone, soothingly rubbing the high point of your rather warm face. "okay."

his words are so quiet and hushed it has you stomach swooping in a pleasant drop. quinn slowly leans down, running the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours—an affectionate nudge. you tilt your head farther back, allowing the most space for quinn to lean in and press his lips to yours.

it's a familiar and comforting pressure, your lips slotting together like they've done hundreds of times before. your arms uncross, falling limp at your sides as you let quinn hold your face, leading you in the steady exchange.

you sigh into his mouth, a breathy sound that has quinn deepening the kiss. his tongue easily slips past your parted, wet lips. instinctively your hands slip up quinn's chest, resting against his hard pecks. you gently grip the round muscle, nails digging into his flesh as you ground yourself.

your tongues move together slowly and gently—like there is all the time in the world. but, there's not all the time in the world, and you're still heartbroken and confused about everything. not just about tonight, but the entirety of your and quinn's arrangement.

you frown into the kiss, pulling away from quinn. his brows are pulled tight, eyes pinched shut as he collects his breathing—recovering from the intimate moment.

"quinny." his nickname is spoke in a breathy whisper, brushing against his slick lips. the emotion is still clogging up your airway, pushing its way to the surface. "I can't do this anymore."

his eyes snap open, glazed with a mixture of lust from your previous exchange, and worry caused by your vulnerable statement. "can't do what?" quinn's breathes hopefully—nervously.

you swallow gently, allowing yourself to linger in the last bit of time and space where your secrets are kept secret. because after this, all your feelings and love for quinn will be exposed, and the chance of your heart snapping in half becomes much more real—much more terrifying. "I can't keep pretending I don't want more with you. all this time we've been engaging in this friends with benefits stuff, i've been trying my best to not give into the idea of having more. but the more we fuck around with each other—care for each other—the more my feelings grow."

you sniffle, looking up at quinn. you can't read the expression on his face, it's one you've never seen before. he doesn't make a move to speak, only looking at you with that soft warmth in his eyes. you continue gently, "and I don't know how much more of this I can take, quinny. i'm attracted to you in any and every way there is to be attracted to someone. and I know we promised one another this would never happen and-"

you're stopped as quinn brings you into his embrace, pulling you towards his chest while his arms wrap around you in a tight hug. your cheek rests between his pecks perfectly, and that combined with everything else has you breaking down again.

you let out a disgruntled sob, turning to hide your wet face in quinn's shirt.

"I know baby." quinn's voice is so quiet, spoken into your hairline before he presses a firm kiss against your head. "it's okay."

you shake your head against him. "i'm so sorry—i've ruined everything. i've ruined us."

he gently pushes you back, just enough so that he can look at you properly. you're sure you look like a hot mess with mascara tinted tears pooling under your eyes, and a runny nose, but you don't find yourself to care. all you can focus on is quinn’s gentle frown and the way he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

his hand lingers there, resting around the side of your neck, just above your gold necklace chain. "how have you ruined us?"

his question is so genuine, like he can't even think of a reason of why your confession would change the set arrangement between the two of you. you almost want to laugh—whether it's in embarrassment or disbelief...you're not too sure.

"because you don't want me like that." not only is your timid response a stab in your gut, but it's also a stab in quinn's.

his thumb sweeps across your jawline, his gaze tender and determined. quinn's tongue darts between his teeth, gently wetting the plump skin of his bottom lip. quinn's eyes sweep over your face, his thoughts running a million miles an hour. but then something shifts.

his expression turns into something more determined—more sure, and with a breathy sigh, he speaks. "I brought lyla here to try and make you jealous. which is super shitty of me, I know, but I didn't know how else to like navigate these feelings i've been having for you. especially because I thought they were unrequited."

oh.

oh.

you blink three times, trying to process the words that just left quinn's mouth. "huh?" you babble like a fish, mouth opening in surprise, shock, and above all relief.

the smile that grows on quinn's face is the cherry on top of everything, and the sight of his grin has you knowing that you heard him right. "I've never fucked her or anybody besides you since we started seeing each other."

"you haven't?"

he shakes his head. "no, and i'm sorry because they way I went about everything tonight was just awful." quinn's hands are so warm and steady against your skin, gently tickling your face as he continues to run his thumbs over your jaw.

"i'm not with elias." you admit. "when I saw you walk in with that girl, I wanted to make you jealous…and elias agreed to help me."

his smile widens at your confession, and he doesn't feel so guilty anymore. the same goes for you, and knowing that your love isn't as unrequited as you thought, you feel yourself finally cracking a real smile.

"are you mad at me?" you ask timidly, leaning into the round of quinn's palm.

he pauses in a dramatic faux thought, humming gently. "not even a little bit." quinn cracks, his smile making its way back onto his flushed face. quinn leans back into your space, lips brushing against yours in an almost kiss. "i'm like falling crazy in love with you."

his words are so quiet—so intimate—plump lips brushing against yours as he talks. it's almost ticklish, and the feeling makes you giggle, and you desperately try to squirm away.

quinn chases you, arms tightening around you as his lips find your jawline. he starts pressing chaste kisses against the bone, quickly trailing down your neck.

you sigh in pleasure, eyes flickering shut as you fall into the euphoric feeling. quinn continues his way down, passing occasionally to suck your perfume flavoured skin into his mouth teasingly.

"say it back." you feel him smirk against you before he gently bites down on you playfully.

you squeal with laughter, continuing your attempt in escaping wounds teasing attack. this time, he lets you pull back, watching you with a fond smile.

"say what?" your attempt at faux innocence quickly falls on deaf ears, and quinn begins tickling your side. you laugh again, falling into his warm, familiar chest.

this feels like the relationship you've grown to love with quinn—this is exactly the dynamic you two have created and the reason you fell so easily in love with your friend.

you wrap your arms around quinn's neck, pushing up onto your tip toes so you're at eye level with him. your smile is subtle, but to quinn it's as promising as the world.

"I'm falling deeply and truly in love with you." you whisper, eyes flickering between quinn's.

he closes the gap between you again, connecting your lips in another passionate kiss. this time the exchange is more rushed—desperate—like you're both trying to pour years of suppressed feelings into this one kiss.

and as the sound of new years rumbles through the house, cheers and celebration from friends floating up the stairs and finding your ears— you know there's nowhere else you're supposed to be.

[lovesickhughes]

luscious locks | jack hughes

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a/n: i, to this day, CANNOT get over this content we got of all three brothers, and the way jack looks, hello??? i would just like to preface that this has been in my drafts since AUGUST (I KNOW) and i finally was able to finish it! not my best, also only proof read once, so apologies for any mistakes, but i hope you enjoy!!! okay bye love you!

warnings: makeout sesh! nothing else except for pure fluff!

tags: jack hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

Summer seemed to be slipping away, right before the tips of your fingers. The Michigan nights were getting cooler, the sun was setting earlier, and your friends desperately attempted to fit in any last minute plans before everyone dispersed back into their routines come autumn.

That also meant for Jack and you, your time spent together that felt endless was coming to an end. The pre-season was just around the corner for the National Hockey League, which meant Jack's schedule would condense to a routine occurrence of working out with the team, morning skates and all the extra training and conditioning that went into the preparation for the upcoming season.

While the summer was able to be spent with family and friends; boating at the Hughes' lake house, trips to wineries and attending weddings of fellow teammates and pro athletes, Jack among the league's management and closest friends had to enjoy the summer fun while keeping one secret from the public.

When the Hughes brothers were offered the opportunity to be on the cover of the upcoming video game covers, the three boys were ecstatic to take upon the offer and fly to Los Angeles for media coverage. You had joined the brothers back in July for a weekend while they were taken behind the scenes and filmed content with the league's media team.

However, being restricted from sharing the exciting news for the upcoming release to the public, made your gatherings with friends a bit more difficult than anticipated. When amongst friends, and even family, the extra attention you paid to conversations and your own responses added another amount of energy that drained you. You wanted nothing more than to tell your closest people the exciting news, but with strict contracts the Hughes brothers had to sign, you knew it would all be worth the wait and biting your tongue a little harder when chiming into conversation.

Now, after the release being almost over a week ago, Jack and you had recently flown back to New Jersey in preparation of the new season. Jack was in meetings that occupied most of his days, while you were adjusting to your job, getting back into the rhythm as you did prior to the summer season.

Your friends and family had sent their congratulatory messages via text for you to pass along to Jack and his brothers for their accomplishments, and your timelines on all apps were flooded with the content you had watched be taken a few months prior.

Tonight though, Jack's and your schedule had perfectly aligned, where Jack had a few days off before the training picked up again, and your work had been all caught up for the upcoming days.

You had busied yourself in the morning, going to the farmer's market with a friend who was in town visiting, before getting coffee and reminiscing the last few summer months and what your family and you had done, and the time you spent with Jack's relatives.

While you caught up, Jack had gone to the gym, and tidied the shared apartment waiting for your arrival. When you entered through the door, the sight of your apartment scattered with candles lit, and the smell of pasta cooking coming from the kitchen, your eyebrows furrowed in worry, knowing there was a likely chance something could go wrong knowing who the chef behind the smell was.

You placed your findings from the farmer's market on the floor next to the collection of shoes that were neatly placed as you scurried towards the kitchen, turning the corner only to find Jack in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants and nike socks that were pulled alarmingly high over the cuffs of his pants.

You took in the sight of the brunette from across from you, his soft, warm, tanned skin that had been kissed so delicately by the sun; his toned muscles, contorting as he moved in a fashion that left you mesmerized by the way his muscles in his biceps, shoulders and back all moved. And you noticed his hair, peeking out the bottom of his baseball cap that was turned backwards, a look you knew sent a wave of electricity through your body.

"Oh hey, babe," Jack said glancing up to your figure that scoped out the area, looking for any sign of something that could catch fire or cause chaos, "I'm just about done making dinner, I found this recipe online that had a video tutorial, so no; I haven't burnt anything down." Jack snickered, turning from the kitchen island to the counter behind that had a pot of pasta boiling on the stove.

You sigh, pulling your jacket off of your shoulder and hanging it on the back of the island stool. "I'm glad you haven't burnt anything, I guess now I'll just hope it's edible." You joked, earning a playful glare from the brunette in front of you.

All the while Jack was occupied watching the video from his phone, you leaned your body against the island counter, the cool marble touching the skin of your forearms as you rested your weight. You watched him intently, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration while he transferred the pot of pasta into the strainer that was already placed in the sink. As he mixed the pasta noodles into the saucepan that contained a red sauce you could only assume was made from scratch, you watched his toned muscles shift with his movements, and his tanned skin from long days out on the boat at his lake house glimmering under the overhead lighting of the kitchen.

Your eyes trailed down his back to his waist and to his butt where your eyes lingered, mindlessly staring at your secret obsession Jack teases you about. Something about the way Jack looked and the way he was so concentrated in putting together a delicious, romantic meal for the first day in a few weeks that the two of you could spend together, you began to realize how long it had been since you felt the little adrenaline rush spike through your veins.

Of course you always actively had a crush on your own boyfriend, but every once in a while there would be moments where you're reminded of why he will always be your biggest crush of all time.

Since summer, Jack had been growing out his hair. You liked it no matter the length or style, but something about running your hands through his longer hair after a day in the lake and feeling the coarse texture from the water made your stomach do somersaults.

And tonight, it was clear Jack had gotten out of the shower prior to starting dinner, so his wet, brown hair laid messily under the cap, only destined to be doubled in volume from air-drying it and indenting the shape of the cap into his brown locks.

Jack plated the food, and you pushed yourself off of the counter to open the fridge and grab the bottle of wine you had saved from one of his teammate's weddings earlier in the summer. You poured two glasses, and followed Jack into your living room, placing the plates and wine glasses on the centre table that was decorated with candles and other items you had purchased when moving in.

Jack and you conversed about your days while the TV played in the background and you enjoyed your meal.

"I know we all joke that I should stick to being the one that cooks for us, but you impressed me tonight Hughes," you jested towards your boyfriend who sipped on his glass of wine.

He playfully rolled his eyes, "I didn't do nearly as bad as I thought I would, or as bad as you all make me out to be." He laughed. "Why don't you go and change into some comfy clothes while I clean up the dishes and then we can catch up on some TV or something for the rest of the night." Jack suggested as his hand reached to place a hand against your waist as you stood, sliding it towards the round of your butt and giving your skin a slight tap.

You squint your eyes, feeling skeptical of his suggestions, wondering if he was scheming.

"Is this your way of putting out for me? You make me a nice dinner and fill me with wine so we can end up fucking tonight?" You joked, half playfully. Jack stood to meet your eyes and his hand now reaching for your waist again to pull you into his body and placing a delicate kiss to your temple.

"Is it working?" He asked against your skin as he peppered kisses against your flushed and warm face. "I'm kidding, I just want us to have a good night since we've both been busy lately."

You hum at his response, "That's sweet of you, let me go change and I'll meet you back here."

While Jack collected the dirty plates and wine glasses, your feet carried you to your bedroom, quickly changing your outfit into one of Jack's basic t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. Fixing the way that Jack's shirt fit on your frame, you admired your appearance in the wall-length mirror that leaned against the wall in your bedroom that complimented the other accents of the room.

Exiting your shared room, you walked down the hallway, the sound of your soft step echoing down the hardwood floor as the dimly lit living room shone down the walls. Jack was seated in the corner on the couch, his one arm resting on the back of the cushion while his legs stretched down to the end of the couch, with a soft white blanket drowning his figure.

A smile erupts on your face, seeing how romantic the aura of your boyfriend and this evening had been since you arrived home and you quickly shuffled over to meet Jack on the couch, plopping yourself next to him and immediately sinking into his side.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you snuck under the blanket to share, feeling the warmth of Jack's exposed skin radiate off of him.

"How are you already cozy?" You asked as if it was a life-changing question.

Jack chuckled, the vibrations of his laugh being sent through his body and ricocheting into yours, "You take forever to change." He slyly responded. You playfully shake your head in protest, but nonetheless snuggle in closer to your favourite brunette, his arm that was on the back of the couch finding its place around your shoulder, his fingers hanging down to just below your chest.

"What do you wanna watch?" Jack asked quietly, as he mumbled the question into the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You hummed in contemplation, "Mmm, I'm not too picky- I'm probably just gonna end up falling asleep anyway." You giggled at your own confession.

It wasn't long before Jack and you had found a movie you both agreed on, and began to watch. The light from the TV screen emitting into the living room, lighting up the walls as Jack and you cozily held each other.

After the halfway point of the movie, Jack had to pause the film to run to the bathroom, and while doing so, on his way back grabbed you a glass of water, Jack settled back into his seat on the couch cushion.

As if on queue, when you looked over at Jack to see if he was ready to continue, he was already reaching for your waist and pulling you into his frame.

Your lips connected, and you inhaled sharply through your nose at the contact. Whether it was the two glasses of wine you had during dinner, or the smell of the food, or even the romantic environment of the living room with the lit candles disbursed among the room, the kiss felt electric, sending you to another level of bliss.

Jack's calloused hand instinctively raised to cradle your jaw, holding your face close to his as he continued to kiss you like it was the last time he'd be able to. And when you slightly pulled away to catch your breath from the heated kiss, Jack took that as his queue to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring, as he deepened the kiss.

You let out a soft moan at the action, Jack's hand that was now on the side of your torso, squeezing your side delicately. Your own hands found themselves resting on each of Jack's shoulders, before your own one hand travelled up to the nape of his neck, immediately entangling it into his luscious, luscious locks you were so ever obsessed with.

The kiss continued, only until you both pulled away to catch your breath, foreheads resting against one another. You placed a quick peck on Jack's swollen, wet, and red lips. Smiling at him when his eyes met yours and you lowered yourself back into your cuddling spot beside him.

You looked up at the beloved boy who sat next to you, giving you more than you could have ever imagined in your life, and all that you felt was a sense of gratitude, and immense love; even emotional to think that you really did check all the boxes with this one.