#lean newark

[lee-laurent]

Sparks in Jersey - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke finally has the chance to wow the girl of his dreams

content: angst, fluff, underage drinking, kissing, suggestive jokes

wc: 7.1k

notes: requested!!! enjoyyyy

"Jack, stop!" Blair whisper-yelled, trying to stifle her laughter as the two of them crouched behind the bushes. "If you get caught, your mom's gonna ground you, and then I'll be next."

"She won't catch us," Jack whispered back, his wide grin not matching his feigned seriousness. He held up the spray can like a prized trophy, its contents intended for the blank patch of wooden fence at the back of the yard. "This is art, Blair. ART."

Blair rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow. "You're a menace, Rowdy. If I get in trouble, I'm blaming you."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said dismissively as he shook the can and began spraying a wobbly rendition of a hockey stick.

From the corner of her eye, Blair caught a small figure creeping through the grass toward them. Eight-year-old Luke wasn't great at sneaking--his floppy hair and oversized hand-me-down hoodie made him a blur of movement as he crouched and tripped his way to their hiding spot.

"Guys!" Luke whisper-shouted, clutching a flashlight in one hand. "Mom's looking for you. If she sees this, you're gonna get in so much trouble!"

Jack turned to shush his brother, but Blair intervened first, pressing a finger to her lips. "Luke," she said softly, leaning toward him. "We're almost done. Be our lookout, and we'll owe you one, okay?"

Luke froze, wide-eyed, as Blair's attention zeroed in on him. He nodded so quickly it almost looked painful. "Okay. But if you get caught, it wasn't my idea."

The grin Blair flashed him felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. Luke planted himself by the edge of the fence, clutching the flashlight like it was his badge of honour.

Luke knew one thing for certain: if it meant protecting Blair, he'd do it.

~~

Blair Adams had lost count of people who assumed she and Jack were siblings. From the time they started grade school together, their lives had intertwined like vines--endless hockey games, late-night study sessions, and whispered secrets that only best friends would understand.

By the time high school rolled around, they were practically inseperable. If one of them was missing school, then the other was guaranteed to be moping around the whole day. So when Jack got drafted to the Devils and she got into Princeton, it wasn't even a question that they'd live together.

Jack was her family in every way that mattered. But his brothers? That was a different story.

Luke, the youngest Hughes sibling, had always been sweet--quiet in a way that balanced Jack's constant energy. Blair remembered him as the little boy who followed them everywhere, starry-eyed and eager to impress.

And now he was moving into their apartment.

Blair set her coffee cup on the counter, glancing at the clock. Jack had texted her that morning, reminding her about Luke's arrival, and while she wasn't nervous, she did feel... curious. She hadn't seen Luke since a couple Christmases ago, and even then, their interactions had been brief.

"Probably still a beanpole," she muttered to herself. She couldn't picture him as anything but Jack's little brother.

Still, the thought lingered as she tidied the living room.

~~

Luke sat in the back of the Uber, his hands fidgeting in his lap as they wound through Newark's crowded streets. His suitcase bumped against his knee with every pothole, but he barely noticed.

He was finally here.

His older brothers had always been larger-than-life figures in his world. Quinn was the golden child--quiet, disciplined, and effortlessly skilled. Jack, on the other hand, was the whirlwind--his humour and energy lighting up every room he walked into.

But Blair? She was someone else entirely.

For as long as Luke could remember, Blair had been part of the family. She'd been at every birthday party, every Thanksgiving dinner, and every summer barbeque. And Luke had always adored her, even before he knew what the word crush meant.

Back then, he'd thought his feelings were something he'd grow out of, like his obsession with dinosaur pyjamas. But as he got older, those feelings only deepened.

Now, at 20, with two years of college hockey under his belt and an NHL debut on the horizon, Luke felt ready. Ready to prove that what he felt for Blair wasn't some childish infatuation.

He gripped the strap of his bag tighter. "Play it cool," he muttered to himself. "She probably still thinks you're a kid."

But what if she didn't?

When he walked into the apartment, Jack was already waiting, sprawled on the couch in sweatpants with his phone in hand.

"There he is," Jack said with a grin, standing to pull his brother into a quick hug. "Welcome to Casa Hughes-Adams."

Luke glanced around the space. It felt warm and lived-in, with mismatched throw pillows and the faint scent of cinnamon. It didn't escape his notice that Blair wasn't in sight.

"She's in the kitchen," Jack said, as if reading his thoughts.

"Who?" Luke asked, feigning indifference.

Jack smirked, leaning in. "Blair, dummy. And before you ask--yes, she's still single."

"Jack.." Luke warned.

"I'm just saying," he threw his hands up in mock innocence. "You two are gonna be living together. Might as well shoot your shot."

"Jack."

Jack grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, Lukey. I'm just here to help. Now, go say hi before she starts unpacking your bags for you."

As Luke moved toward the kitchen, his heart thudding, he caught the glint in Jack's eye. Whatever he was planning, it was bound to be trouble.

~~

Blair was standing by the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and a teasing smirk playing on her lips as Luke wrestled a suitcase. The duffle slung over his shoulder slipped down his arm, and he cursed softly under his breath, making her bite back a laugh.

"Need help there, big shot?"

Luke looked up, a sheepish grin breaking across his face. "Nah, I've got it. Totally under control."

Blair's teasing died in her throat. When did he get a jawline like that? she wondered, her gaze catching on the sharp angles of his face, the broad set of his shoulders, the way he carried himself--despite his current struggle with luggage.

She blinked, forcing herself to refocus. Relax. It's Luke. Jack's little brother.

Still, as he straightened and ran a hand through his hair, her stomach did a flip.

Luke caught her staring and raised an eyebrow. "Something on my face?"

"Nope," Blair said quickly, turning toward the living room and willing the heat in her cheeks to dissipate. "Let me show you where your room is before you destroy the place."

Luke followed her, taking in the apartment as he went. It felt surreal being there, sharing the space with Blair. The same Blair he used to follow around as a kid, who used to ruffle his hair and call him "Lukey." Now she was standing there, effortlessly beautiful, and he couldn't decide if the butterflies in his stomach were exhilerating or terrifying.

Once they'd unloaded his bags into the spare room, Blair escaped to the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to put some distance between them. She leaned against the counter, staring at the fridge as if it held the answers to life's most pressing questions.

Okay, so Luke's grown up. Big deal. He's an athlete; they all end up looking like Greek statues. She snorted at the thought and shook her head. Doesn't mean anything.

Still, the image of him smiling at her--his dimple making a rare appearance--lingered in her mind.

"Get a grip, B," she mumbled, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. "He's Jack's little brother. End of story."

But the flicker of doubt refused to fade.

~~

Later that evening, Jack stood in the doorway, pulling on his jacket.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Blair asked, arms of full of laundry she'd been folding on the couch.

"Yup," Jack said, popping the 'p.' "Dinner with some of the guys. You two have fun."

Blair frowned. "You didn't mention that earlier."

"Didn't I?" he replied innocently. "Must've slipped my mind."

Luke appeared from the hallway, his hair still damp from a post-flight shower. He glanced between the two of them, his expression cautious. "You're going out?"

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but don't worry. Blair will take care of you." He shot Blair a pointed look before sauntering out the door, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.

Blair rolled her eyes, muttering, "Subtle as a brick, that one."

Luke cleared his throat. "So, uh, what's for dinner?"

They ended up in the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"How do you feel about spaghetti?" Blair asked, holding up a box of pasta.

"Sounds good."

They worked together in silence for a while, the only sounds the clinking of pots and the soft hum of the stove. But as the pasta boiled, Blair leaned back against the counter, studying Luke.

"So... how's it feel finally making the big move?"

Luke shrugged, stirring the sauce. "Good, I think. A little surreal, honestly. I mean, this is Jack's turf. I'm just trying not to screw it up."

Blair softened. "You'll be fine, Lukey. You're good at what you do. Plus, Jack thinks he's way cooler than he actually is."

Luke laughed, the sound warm and rich, and Blair felt her chest get tight.

As they sat down to eat, the conversation drifted to Jack--his quirks, his bad habits, and all the ridiculous things he and Blair did as kids.

"Remember that time he put hot sauce in my water bottle?" Blair asked, laughing.

"Oh, yeah. You chased him with a fucking hockey stick."

"I should've hit him with it," she shook her head.

Luke leaned forward, his gaze softer. "You were always good at keeping him in line."

Her laughter faltered under the weight of his words, their eyes meeting.

"Yeah, well," she said lightly. "Someone had to. Hell... I still do."

The rest of the evening passed smoothly, but as they cleaned up the kitchen together, Blair felt like something had shifted. Luke might not just be Jack's little brother.

And that scared her... a lot.

~~

Blair had always thought of herself as someone who adapted quickly, but living with Luke Hughes presented a unique challenge. Much different than living with Jack. He wasn't difficult, per se--in fact, he was the opposite. Too helpful. Too funny. And, if she was being honest, too damn distracting.

It was the little things that threw her off.

Like the way he always tidied up without being asked. She'd leave her coffee mug in the sink and come back to find it washed and drying on the rack. Or the way he'd linger in the kitchen, chatting about his day as she cooked, leaning casually against the counter with his stupidly charming, crooked grin.

And then there were his routines. Every morning, Luke came out of his room in sweats and t-shirt, his hair adorably mussed from sleep, to make a protein shake before his workout. The sight had become so familiar that it almost felt... domestic.

Get it together, she'd tell herself for the thousandth time as she passed him on her way to make her coffee. But as she caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo, she couldn't help the butterflies she felt.

Luke wasn't sure what he expected when he moved in, but things had been going better than he'd hoped. Sure, living with Blair was a constant exercise in restraint--her laugh, her quick wit, the way she'd hum under her breath when she thought no one was listening--it was enough to drive him insane.

But he'd made a plan.

Step one: Show her he wasn't a kid anymore.

It was in the small things. Like volunteering to carry the groceries or fixing the wobbly kitchen stool without anyone asking. He made sure to cook extras for her once in a while, too--nothing fancy, just enough to make her pause and say, "Wow, you've really got this adulting thing down."

Step two: Flirt... just a little

Luke wasn't reckless enough to come on strong, but he'd test the waters now and then--a playful nudge when they passed in the hallway, a comment about how her sweatpants made her look cozy. He lived for the moments when her cheeks turned pink, even if she brushed off his remarks with a roll of her eyes.

What he didn't expect, though, was how much just being around her would feel so... right.

~~

Blair was cozied up on the couch, her laptop balanced on her lap as she scrolled through pages of research for a project. Luke was on the other end of the couch, his long legs taking up more than his fair share of space as he half-watched a hockey game on the TV.

"Hey, where's Jack?" Blair asked, glancing at the time. It was past seven, and he hadn't returned from his workout.

Luke shrugged, not looking up from his phone. "He said he was meeting some guys for dinner. I don't know."

She frowned. "Didn't he do that yesterday?"

Luke smirked, finally looking at her. "Maybe he's just really into team bonding."

Blair narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely up. Over the past week, Jack had mysteriously disappeared more often that usual, leaving her and Luke to fend for themselves. It wasn't that she minded the company--Luke was easy to get along with--but the pattern was hard to ignore.

Later that night, as she was rinsing her coffee mug (the one Luke usually beat her to), her phone buzzed with a text from Jack.

Jack: How's it going? You two getting along?

Blair: fine. why?

Jack: No reason

Her gut was telling her he was up to something.

Meanwhile, Luke passed by, grabbing a glass of water and shooting her a quick smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Blair said slowly, slipping her phone into her back pocket. But as Luke left, she couldn't shake the idea that her best friend was trying to play matchmaker.

~~

Jack was still out and the apartment was oddly quiet. Blair had given up on her work and was now scrolling through Netflix in search of something mindless.

"You watching something?" Luke asked as he emerged from his room, a hoodie thrown on over his sweats.

"Trying to," she replied, tossing the remote in his direction. "Your turn to pick. I'm too indecisive tonight."

Luke caught it easily and plopped down beside her, the cushion dipping under his weight. He scrolled for a minute before settling on a documentary about space exploration.

"Space?" Blair cocked an eyebrow.

"Come on, it's cool," Luke said, grinning. "Plus, you might learn something."

She rolled her eyes, but stayed put. As the documentary started, she found herself leaning into the couch, her shoulder brushing against Luke's. It wasn't much, just the barest contact, but it sent a spark through her.

At one point, Luke turned to make a comment about the astronauts, his voice low and close enough that she felt the warmth of it on her cheek. She glanced at him, and for a split second, the room seemed to hold its breath.

But then Luke pulled back, casually sipping his water as if nothing had happened.

Blair just exhaled, turning her attention back to the stipid documentary.

~~

The rain tapped against the windows of the apartment, the kind of soothing sound that made everything feel a bit more intimate. Blair was on the floor, sorting through all of her notebooks from every year of college. Luke was on the sofa, tossing a ball in the air absentmindedly.

"You sure you don't want me to just toss all this for you?" he teased, nodding at the stack of papers that threatened to topple.

Blair shot him a glare. "Do you want me to throw out all your hockey gear?"

"Touché." He grinned. "But my gear gets me paid. Does this" --he picked up one of her notebooks, flipping through it--"get you paid?"

"Rude," she said, snatching it back, though she couldn't stop her smile.

Luke leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. The movement drew her attention, and for a moment, Blair found herself distracted by how easily he seemed to fit into every situation. He wasn't a little kid anymore, and she was starting to notice.

"Why do you keep all this, anyway?"

Blair shrugged, shutting another notebook and hugging it to her chest. "I don't know. I guess in case I ever need any of it. Or... it reminds me of where I started. It's easy to lose sight of that when you're trying to figure out where you're going."

Luke set the ball down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I get that," he said. "Sometimes I feel like... I don't know, like I'm chasing something. Trying to prove I belong. First at Michigan, now here."

"You? You're one of the Hughes brothers. People expect you to belong."

Luke laughed, but it was a quiet, self-deprecating sound. "That's the problem. Everyone expects me to be just like Jack or Quinn. And they're... amazing. Don't get me wrong. But sometimes it feels like I'm playing catch-up, you know?"

Blair’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. She shifted onto the couch beside him, her knee brushing against his. “You’re not Jack or Quinn,” she said softly. “You’re Luke. And that’s enough. It’s more than enough.”

"Do you really think that?"

"I know it."

"What about you?" Luke asked. "You've got this whole life mapped out--Princeton, your career. Doesn't it ever feel... heavy?"

Blair hesitated, surprised by how much she wanted to answer honestly. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “It’s like I’ve been so focused on what I’m supposed to do--keeping up with school, supporting Jack, being the dependable one--that I forget to think about what I actually want.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The rain outside grew heavier, the rhythm filling any silence between them. Blair glanced at him, his profile softened by the dim glow of the lamp. She felt her pulse quicken, the air between them charged.

"You're not what I expected," she whispered.

"What?"

Blair hit her lip, searching for the best words. "When Jack said you were moving in, I thought it'd be... different. I don't know. But you're--"

"Not a kid anymore?" he finished for her, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips.

Blair's heart stuttered. "Yeah. Something like that."

The smile faded as their gazes locked. The teasing warmth in Luke's eyes gave way to something deeper, something that made Blair's breath catch.

He leaned in slightly--not enough to close the distance, but enough for her to notice. For her to feel the magnetic pull between them.

"Blair," he whispered.

Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine, but reality crashed over her like a wave of cold water.

She pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell. "I should... I should finish sorting these," she said, gesturing to the forgotten notebooks. Her voice sounded unsteady, even to her own ears.

Luke blinked, leaning back as if to give her space. "Right. Of course."

He didn't push, but the disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable.

Blair sat in bed that night, staring at the ceiling as the scene replayed in her mind like a broken record. She could still feel his breath on her, the way he looked at her like nothing else mattered.

He's Jack's little brother, she reminded herself, gripping the blanket tightly. This can't happen.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shut her brain off and fall asleep.

In the room down the hall, Luke lay awake, staring at the ceiling in the same way: This can't just be a crush anymore.

~~

Jack was sitting on a stool, arms crossed, a devious grin spreading across his face as he watched Blair finish her coffee.

"So," he said casually, "I was thinking we should do a group night. You, me, Luke, maybe a couple teammates and their girlfriends. Drinks, a movie, the works. Sound good?"

"Group night? Since when do you plan movie nights?"

"Since I'm such a generous, thoughtful friend," Jack replied. "Come on, Blair. You've been working nonstop. You need to relax."

Blair glanced at Luke, who was silently buttering toast at the counter. "Sure. Why not? It could be fun."

"Great." Jack clapped his hands together. "I'll set it up."

Unbeknownst to her, Luke caught Jack's michievous glance over Blair's shoulder.

~~

Two nights later, Blair was setting out snacks as Luke flipped through all the different streaming services the three of them were subscribed to. The apartment was warm and cozy, the perfect atmosphere for a chill night with their friends.

"Where is everyone?" Blair asked, frowning as she checked her phone.

Luke smirked, already knowing the answer. "Check your messages."

Jack: Oops! Something came up. Can't make it tonight. Have fun without me!!

She groaned, running a hand over her face. "Unbelievable."

Luke laughed, plopping onto the couch. "Guess it's just us, then."

Blair hesitated, tempted to go curl up in her bed with a mug of hot chocolate and watch a cheesy rom-com on Netflix. But as she glanced at Luke, comfortably lounging on the sofa, his smile easy as ever, she decided against it.

"Fine," she said, grabbing two coolers from the fridge. "But you're not getting out of picking a movie."

Half an hour in, the movie played, but Blair was much more interested in Luke than the plot.

He was relaxed, his arm draped over the back of the couch--not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. Every so often, he'd glance her way to catch her reaction.

"This movie's fucking ridiculous," Luke said, shaking his head at the over-the-top action scene.

"I feel like that's the point," Blair replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at him.

Luke caught it, popping it into his mouth with a smug grin. "Impressive, right?"

"Maybe you're the ridiculous one."

"And yet, here you are, stuck watching this shit movie with me."

She turned to scowl at him, but it faltered as their eyes met. The room seemed to shrink, the movie getting quieter. Luke looked down to her lips, catching himself and looking back at her eyes.

She looked away quickly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "We should... get back to the movie."

"R-right, the, uh, the movie."

As soon as the end credits rolled, Blair busied herself with cleaning up, grateful to have something to do. Anything.

She'd enjoyed their unexpected time alone more than she cared to admit. Luke always made her laugh, left her feeling... seen. It was new. Different.

Too different, she thought as she set the popcorn bowl in the sink.

The idea of crossing that line with Luke felt impossible. Jack was practically her brother, and Luke was his little brother. No matter how much he'd grown, or changed, it still felt... complicated.

Luke watched from the couch as she washed the dishes. Her hair was messy from where she'd ruffled it during the movie, and the way she smiled as she hummed to herself made his chest ache.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" she glanced over her shoulder.

"Thanks for hanging out tonight," he said, his tone genuine. "Even... if Jack bailed."

Blair turned to face him fully, drying her hands on a tea towel. "Yeah, well, you're not the worst company."

Luke smirked. "That's high praise coming from you."

"Don't let it get to your head."

"Too late," he chuckled, standing up to grab a drink, his shoulder brushing hers as he reached for a glass. The touch was subtle, almost nonexistant, but Blair felt like her skin was on fire.

Luke caught the way she stiffened, but instead of pulling back, he stayed close, voice lower. "You know, you don't have to keep pretending."

"Pretending what?"

"That you don't like being around me."

Her breath caught, her mind racing for a response, but he stepped back, giving her space.

"Goodnight, Blair," he teased, heading to his room.

She wasn't sure what she felt more: frustration at herself for the way her heart reacted to him... or the undeniable truth that Luke wasn't wrong.

~~

The post-game energy was infectious, the crowd buzzing as fans lingered in the arena, snapping selfies and chatting excitedly. Blair stood near the players' tunnel, sipping a beer and watching Luke from afar.

He was good at this, she realized. Not just the hockey part--though he'd had an impressive game tonight--but the whole... persona. The awkward Luke smiles, the attention he gave to fans, the way he handled it without the sass his brother did.

She wasn't the only one who noticed.

Blair stiffened as a blonde girl, maybe a year or two younger than her, leaned close to him. She was bold, confident in the way only someone used to getting attention could be.

Blair tried to brush off as she watched Luke smile politely, but then the girl handed him her phone. Luke hesitated for a moment before taking it, his expression unreadable.

Her stomach twisted. She didn't want to feel this way--this hot, irrational pang of jealousy that clenched her chest like a vice. But when the girl's face lit up, giddy with what was probably Luke's number, she had to look away.

It wasn't her place to care. She had no claim over Luke. He was free to flirt with whoever he wanted.

~~

Blair was laying in her bed, a half-empty glass of wine resting on her bedside table. The room was dark, her laptop playing an episode of Law and Order that she'd already seen.

She heard the front door open, a bag hit the hardwood floor. Then Jack strolled into her room, flopping onto her bed like he owned the place.

"Alright, what's up?"

Blair glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"

"You're drinking wine in the dark and watching a show you've seen a million times. That's weird."

She groaned, burying her face in her duvet. "You're insufferable."

"Yeah, but I'm also right." Jack leaned back against the headboard. "So spill. What's got you all mopey?"

She grabbed her glass of wine, downing the rest of it. "It's nothing, okay? Just drop it."

Jack gave her a long look, his smirk softening into something more serious. "Blair. I've known you for, like, ever. You're not okay. Just tell me."

"It's... it's Luke."

Jack's eyebrows shot up, and his grin was immediate. "Finally."

"This is exactly why I didn't want to say anything!"

"No, no, this is great!" he sat up, his excitement bubbling over. "You like him! Like, like-like him."

"Can you not make it sound like we're in middle school?" Blair shot back, though her face burned at his words.

"Okay, fine... but you're into him, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe," she whispered.

Jack nudged her shoulder. "You do."

Blair let out a frustrated laugh. "Jack, it's complicated. He's your brother. I've known him since he was a kid. And tonight, at the game, there was this girl, and he was..."

Jack frowned. "And you were jealous."

She bit her lip but didn't deny it.

Jack leaned over, grabbing her glass from her and putting it down on the nightstand. "Blair, listen to me. Luke's not a kid anymore. He hasn't been for a long time. And he's crazy about you. He's been crazy about you since he was old enough to know what a crush was."

"He doesn't--"

"He does," he interrupted firmly. "And I'm telling you, you don't have to feel guilty about this. If you like him--and I think you do--then let yourself have this. You deserve it. He does, too."

"And... you're okay with it? With us?"

Jack grinned. "Blair, you're my favourite person in the world. Luke's my brother. If the two of you make each other happy, the yeah, I'm okay with it. More than okay."

~~

Luke couldn't help but notice that Blair hadn't talked to him after the game. He didn't even see her until the next morning when she was making her daily coffee.

"Morning."

"Morning," she said, not even turning to look at him.

He grabbed some frozen fruit from the freezer, getting ready to make his smoothie. "You okay?"

Blair hesitated, taking a look at his face. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much, but his eyes were still as warm as always.

"Yeah. Just... thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"About how much things have changed. And how... how much you've changed."

"Good change or, uh, bad change?"

"Good... I think."

Then air felt heavier, but not in a bad way. Luke clicked his tongue, about to respond when Blair brushed past him, wrapping her housecoat around her tighter.

"I'm gonna get ready for class."

~~

Luke was tired of just waiting for things to change. Blair deserved more than casual glances and hesitant words. She deserved to know how he felt, and he decided it was time to show her.

He looked down at the litle notebook resting on the table, one he'd seen Blair scribbling in late one night while she thought no one was around. It didn't seem to be much--just a collection of her to-do lists and random thoughts--but it had sparked an idea.

Blair arrived home from classes, balancing her tote bag and a paper bag of takeout. She kicked the door shut behind her, surprised by the warm glow of the apartment. The living room was dimly lit, a few candles flickering on the coffee table.

"Luke?" she called, setting her things down.

"In here," came his voice from their balcony.

Blair crossed the room, stepping outside to find Luke leaning against the railing. The table next to him was set with two plates, her favourite flowers in a simple vase at the centre.

"What's all this?"

Luke stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I just... I wanted to do something for you. You've been working so hard, and I thought you could use a break."

"Luke, you didn't have to--"

"I wanted to," he interrupted.

He pulled out one of the chairs for her, gesturing for her to sit. Blair hesitated but eventually lowered herself into the seat. Luke took the spot across from her, his nervousness barely contained.

As they started eating, Blair couldn't help but notice the little details--how he'd ordered her favourite dish, how he kept the conversation light but still genuine. It was thoughtful... thoughtful in a personal way.

After dinner, Luke retrieved something from inside, returning with a small, wrapped package.

"What's this?" Blair asked.

"Just... open it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She tore the paper carefully, revealing a leather-bound notebook. It looked old; the edges were slightly worn, and the faint smell of ink and must wafted from it.

Blair ran her fingers over the cover, her breath catching. "This is... like the one I had as a kid."

Luke nodded. "You, uh, you told it about me during one of our late-night talks. How you used to write everything down--your dreams, stories, your plans for the future. I thought... you could start again... as an adult."

Blair's throat felt tight as she opened the journal. It was so simple, but it meant everything.

"Luke..."

He stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. "Blair, you've always been this incredible, unstoppable force. And I just... I wanted you to have something that reminds you of that."

She stood, clutching the notebook to her chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you matter to me, Blair. More than you know."

"Lu-"

"I know I'm just Jack's little brother to you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite his vulnerability. "But I'm not a kid anymore. And I've been waiting my whole life for you to see me--really see me."

Blair stared at him, processing his words. For so long, she'd fought against the pull she felt toward him, telling herself it was wrong, that it would complicate everything. But in that moment, with Luke standing in front of her, open and unguarded, she couldn't deny it anymore.

She reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "You're not just Jack's little brother."

Luke's eyes widened slightly, his breath hitching as her hand lingered. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against hers.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

But she didn't pull away. Instead, she closed the space, her lips brushing his in the most electrifying kiss of her life. Years of tension and unspoken moments poured into their kiss.

Blair pulled away, her cheeks flushed. "You've always been waiting for me to see you?"

"Yeah. And you were worth the wait."

~~

The morning after their kiss, Blair replayed the moment over and over again. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word from Luke had burned itself into her memory.

"Morning."

She jumped as Luke's voice cut through the quiet. She looked up to find him standing in front of her, his hair mussed.

"Morning."

"So... about last night."

Blair swallowed, setting down her coffee. "Yeah... we should probably talk about that."

Luke nodded. "Look, I'm not sorry it happened. But I don't want to make things harder for you. Or for us."

Blair's lips pressed into a thin line. "Jack's going to notice if things... change. And the rest of your family... I just don't want things to get too complicated too fast."

"So, what? We sneak around for a while? Keep this a secret?"

"Maybe," Blair said through her nervous smile.

Luke grinned, stepping closer until he was right in front of her. "I can work with that."

When his hand brushed against hers on the table, she didn't pull away.

Keeping their relationship under wraps turned out to be equal parts thrilling and frustrating.

There were more stolen moments in the kitchen, their hands brushing as they cooked. Blair would catch Luke staring from across the room, his eyes filled with something new.

Once when Jack was napping in his room, Luke cornered Blair in the hallway, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was quick but left her breathless.

"Someone's going to catch us," she whispered, trying to sound stern but failing.

Luke smirked, hands resting on her waist. "You worried about Rowdy? He sleeps like a rock."

Still, the constant sneaking around wasn't without its challenges. Jack had a knack for walking in at the worst possible times, forcing Blair and Luke to spring apart like guilty teenagers.

"Why are you both so jumpy lately?" Jack asked one evening, narrowing his eyes at them as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa.

"Jumpy? We're not jumpy," Blair replied quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched.

"Yeah," Luke added. "You're imagining things, Jack."

Jack's eyes narrowed further, but he didn't press--yet.

But it didn't take long for him to connect the dots. He wasn't oblivious, despite what Blair and Luke seemed to think.

The knowing grin that spread across his face when he walked into the kitchen and caught them in what they thought was a private moment. Luke's hand was on the small of Blair's back as she stood by the stove, and her laugh was just a bit too soft, too intimate.

"Oh my God," he startled them both.

"Jack! Wha--"

"No way," Jack interrupted, pointing between them. "Are you two fucking?!"

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jack, just--"

"You are!" he shouted. "This is amazing. I knew it! I fucking knew this would happen!"

Blair groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Jack, can you not make this a thing?"

"Oh, it's already a thing," Jack said, crossing his arms triumphantly. "And I'm a genius for making it happen."

"Making it happen?"

Jack shrugged, completely unbothered. "I gave you two all those nights alone. The movie night? You're welcome."

"You... you're telling me you've been matchmaking this whole time?" Blair gasped.

"Matchmaking, nudging, masterminding--call it what you want," Jack said with a smirk. "Point is, I'm responsible for this."

"Yeah, sure, Jack. All you," Luke rolled his eyes.

"So, when's the wedding? Can I be the best man and the maid of honour?"

~~

The sound of goal horn echoed in Luke's ears, but this time, it wasn't in celebration. Another defensive breakdown. Another minus on the scoresheet.

Luke sat in the locker room after, still in his gear, staring blankly at the floor. Around him his teammates untaped sticks and headed for the showers, but he felt frozen.

The reporters were outside, ready to dissect every mistake he'd made that night. The fans would be tweeting about his rookie performance. But worst of all, he'd let himself down.

When he finally got home, it was late. Blair was waiting for him on his bed. The second she saw him, her face softened.

"Hey."

Luke dropped his bag by the door, sinking down into his bed beside her, leaning his head on a pillow with a deep sigh.

"Rough game?"

He nodded, jaw tight. "I keep messing up. It's like... no matter what I do, it's not good enough. I'm not Jack. I'm not Quinn. I don't know if I'll ever be."

Blair reached over, resting a hand on his arm. "Luke, you don't have to be Jack or Quinn. You just have to be you. And you're amazing, even if you don't feel like it right now."

"What if I'm not? What if I'm not cut out for this?"

She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around him. "You are, Luke. And so do a lot of other people. You're allowed to have bad days. It doesn't make you less."

~~

Blair's phone buzzed with yet another text from her mom.

Mama: So... Luke? Are you two really together? Luke as in Jack's little brother?

She sighed, tossing her phone onto the bed beside her.

Her relationship with Luke had been public knowledge for a few weeks now--thanks to Jack's slip of the tongue at a post-game interview--but the fallout was more stressful than she could've anticipated.

Her parents were surprised but supportive, though their questions about the long-term implications left her feeling uneasy. And Jack? He was thrilled that the world knew now, that he didn't have to hide the secret.

"What if this changes everything?" she murmured aloud as she folded her laundry.

"What changes everything?" Luke asked, walking into her room with a bowl of cereal in hand.

Blair hesitated, her hands stilling on one of Luke's sweatshirts. "Us. You. Me and Jack. All of it."

Luke set the bowl down. "Blair, what are you talking about?"

"It's just... I don't want this to mess things up. With your family. With Jack. If something went wrong, it'd be--"

"It's not going to go wrong. And even if it did, that's on me, not you. You're not responsible for holding everything together."

"But I feel like I am. Jack's been like family to me my whole life. And now, with us, it's like I'm risking everything."

Luke took her hands. "You're not risking anything, Blair. Jack loves you. My family loves you. And I... I'm not going anywhere, okay? No matter how hard things get."

But the cracks began to show.

Luke's schedule grew more demanding as the Devils pushed for a playoff spot. Practices ran longer, travel days piled up, and his rookie season came with added scrutiny from fans and the media.

Blair was juggling her internship and her last semester of classes. Their time together became scarce, and when they did have a moment, it was often overshadowed by Luke's frustrations or Blair's anxiety.

"It's like no matter what I do, it's not enough," Luke paced the living room, hands in his hair. "I make on mistake, and everyone is on my ass. Meanwhile, the vets can screw up all night, and no one says a word."

Blair looked up from her computer, bags under her eyes. "Luke, I get it. I do. But can we just... not right now? I have a huge presentation tomorrow, and I'm barely keeping up as it is."

"I didn't mean to dump that on you. I just... forget it."

He turned to leave, but Blair reached out, catching his hand. "Lu, wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just--"

"It's fine," he pulled his hand away. "Good luck with your presentation."

The strain between them was becoming harder to ignore, and she didn't know how much longer they could keep pretending everything was fine.

~~

As soon as Luke entered the apartment, Blair warpped her arms around him. "I know it's been hard," she said quietly. "But I'm here. Always."

Luke exhaled, snaking his arms around her waist. "I know. And I'm sorry. For everything."

"We'll figure it out. Together."

"Yeah... together."

~~

The past few weeks had been spent making quick apologies and sharing half-hearted reassurances that everything was fine. But it wasn't fine. She'd spent so much of her time worrying about what other people wanted that she'd forgotten to think about what she wanted.

And she wanted Luke.

Jack: Game tonight. I snagged you a ticket. Go

~~

She slipped into her seat, spotting Jack on the ice with HUGHES on his back, just like hers and Luke's. He turned, catching her eye, and throwing her a thumbs up.

She spent the whole game watching Luke, her stomach flipping every time he would touch the puck. And when he scored in the second period, she leaped to her feet, cheering louder than everyone around her.

After the game, she waited by the players' tunnel, spotting Luke emerging from the locker room, his hair damp, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Luke!" she called.

His head snapped up, mouth dropping in surprise. "Blair?"

"Hey."

Luke glanced around, clearly aware of the people watching, but Blair didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"You were amazing!"

"I... I didn't know you were coming."

"I wasn't sure I was going to," she admitted, pulling back from their embrace to look in his eyes. "But then I realized I was being stupid. I don't care what anyone thinks. I'm with you because I want to be."

"You sure?"

"Completely."

~~

Blair attended every home game she could after that. No more secrets and they were feeling the best they had together. She supported him through the highs and lows of his rookie season. And Luke helped her study, even letting her practice her presentations on him.

"You know," she said softly. "I think we're pretty good at this."

Luke cocked an eyebrow. "At what?"

"Us."

He leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "Yeah. We are."

Jack entered the room, a smirk on his face. "Told you so."

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ california sun ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico’s girlfriend surprises him in San Jose for his birthday

warning(s) : smut ! unprotected penetrative sex (pls be careful), oral (m!receiving), slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it), nicknames during sex, dirty talk … but also v sweet moments

author’s note : happy nico day to all who celebrate. my favorite captain <33 this was also supposed to be kinda short but i ended up getting carried away with it so ... enjoy

༺──────────────༻

One of her favorite places is California in wintertime. The sun always feels so good on her skin and the weather is perfect. Not too hot, but she doesn’t feel like she needs a bunch of layers to stay warm like she does in Newark.

Which is why when Jack reached out to her about flying her out to San Jose to surprise Nico for his birthday, she immediately said yes. She’ll fly in on the 3rd and arrive in San Jose sometime during practice. Jack gave her name to the hotel so she can grab a key to Nico’s hotel room to wait for him. They’ll have their one-on-one dinner that night then she’ll go to the game the next day and team dinner to celebrate his birthday.

Sounds like a good plan, and she can’t believe that Jack Hughes came up with most of it. He said that the recent three game losing streak they’re on might be taking a bit of a toll on him so he thought that having her around will help get his spirits up. She agreed.

That’s the reason she wakes up at five in the morning and ends up on a plane three hours later. They make a quick stop in Denver but she’s ultimately in San Jose by 1:30. She texts Jack when she lands but he won’t see it until he’s back in the locker room. She orders an Uber to get to the hotel that’s blocks away from the SAP Center.

She taps away on her phone for the ten minutes drive to the hotel from the airport.

Jack ends up texting her back as she’s pulling up to the hotel saying that they’re done practice and they’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes. She does her best to get up to Nico’s room as quickly as she can. The receptionist does give her a key to Nico’s sixth floor hotel room and she practically sprints up there.

Once inside, she grabs the little outfit she had planned to wear for him when he got home but thought to grab it to surprise him. It’s a very revealing number that does little to cover her up. White lace bra, lace panties, and a see-through robe that falls just past her butt.

Yeah, this will take Nico’s mind off of hockey for a while. It better, especially since he hasn’t seen her since he left for this extended roadtrip right after Christmas. She's been losing her mind since he left with nothing but her fingers and an occasional FaceTime call to keep her busy.

Voices fill the hallway and she jumps on the one bed in the room. She is thankful that they gave Nico a room with only one bed because if he had a roommate like he normally does, their night would look very different. The sun shines into the room from the window behind her. She lays out in a provocative way that shows off every necessary part of her body.

The door beeps when as it's unlocked. She puts a smile on her face as the door swings open, revealing an exhausted Nico. He runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his neck while the door shuts behind him.

"Looks like you've had a rough day," she comments from her spot on the bed. Nico's head snaps up and his eyes land on her. "Bad practice at the rink?"

"What are you doing here?" Nico asks as he crosses the small room. "I thought you were busy this weekend."

She sits up leaning back on her hands with her chest out. "Oh, I am," she tells him, eyeing up the man in front of her. "I have big plans this weekend." She looks up at him with a grin on her face. "Is that okay?"

Nico laughs, shedding his track jacket. "I do have a hockey game to play tomorrow so it might put a little damper on your plans," he says. "And I heard the boys talking about possibly taking me out for dinner after the game."

"Oh, we have dinner plans tonight too," she explains. "But those are a few hours away so we have time to do whatever we want." She puts an emphasis on the last three words of that comment.

She gets on her knees on the bed and reaches out to him. She grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. Nico steps closer to her and stands in front of her. "I should let the boys know that I'll be a little busy for the rest of the day," Nico tells her. "Tell them to leave me alone unless it's an emergency."

"Jack has that covered," she admits. "We worked together to get me here.. He'll be taking over your captainly duties for the night so you can spend some time with your girlfriend." Her fingers slide under his dri-fit t-shirt, flattening against his abs. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and keeps her eyes on his face. "That okay?"

He slowly nods. "Sounds good to me," he replies.

Nico's fingers fall to the knot holding the robe together at her waist. He tugs at it, letting the sheer fabric fall open and exposing the lace set she's wearing underneath. His eyes fall to the lack of clothing she has on under the robe. "Like it?" she questions as she shrugs off the robe and tosses it to the floor.

"It would look so much better on the floor," Nico comments.

The next few seconds happen so fast that she's barely able to wrap her head around it. Nico picks her up by the back of her thighs and drops her on her back with a giggle. He hovers on top of her, lying between her legs. Nico's lips are on hers a second later. The kiss makes her head spin, like most of the kisses they share.

Her fingers are in his hair to keep him close to her, curling slightly in his brown locks. She kisses him back with the same intensity that he first kissed her with. Nico's hips grind slowly against hers. A bulge begins to tent his track pants. The bulge rubs against her core and she groans against his lips. Nico takes full advantage and licks into her mouth.

She slowly manages to get him down to his boxers. Nico not wanting to break the kiss slows her down in getting his shirt off, but that's the first thing she works on to get it over with. The kiss breaks for about two seconds while Nico pulls his shirt over his head. He chucks it on the floor before his mouth is back on hers. She's never seen him take off his shirt so quickly. He kicks off his pants when she gets them to his knees.

Then she takes advantage of the fact that he's off-balance and flips him onto his back. She straddles his lap and presses kisses to his chest. Nico runs his fingers through her hair and ends up making a makeshift ponytail with her hair. He gently pulls on the ponytail, and she hums against his skin at the feeling.

"Love when you make those sounds for me, pretty girl," Nico tells her. She grins and hooks her fingers in the waistband of his boxers. She tugs at the fabric and pulls them off his body. His dick stands against his stomach, tip a fiery red. She licks her lips and settles between his knees.

"Time for you to relax, Neeks," she tells him. "My turn to take care of you."

She wraps her hand around his dick and gives him a few pumps. He sighs, eyes watching her every move. She sends him a little wink and leans down to take his cock in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around his tip, lapping up the bead of precome. She hums at the familiar taste as his dick fills her mouth.

Like usual, she has to use her hand to make up for what doesn't fit in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down, hollowing her cheeks and sucking every once in a while because she knows it drives Nico crazy.

His fingers tighten in her hair with every movement she makes.

"Fuck, liebling," Nico breathes out. "That pretty mouth of yours feels so good around me. Oh my God."

She grins around his dick and takes him as deep as she can without choking herself. She did that once after overestimating herself when they first got together and it was very embarrassing for her. Now, she knows her limits and hasn't done it since, but she's taught herself how to take most of him.

It's only a few more moments before Nico pulls her off his dick. She frowns at him as he pulls her up to him. He presses a soft kiss to her frown before he talks. "As much as I'd love to come in your mouth, I want to fuck you," he explains. "Want my dick inside you and make you come."

"I want you to fuck me," she mumbles as she traces his stubbled jaw and looks at his already kiss bruised lips. "I always want you, Nico."

"Did you bring condoms?"

Oh shit. That's the one thing she forgot. She didn't realize it until this moment.

Bad time to have that kind of realization.

"No," she admits. Nico looks disappointed. "But I'm okay without one right now."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," she hums. "Want all of you, Neeks. Want to feel you."

Nico basically rips the lace set off her body to get her naked. He flips them back over so she's on her back underneath his large frame. He kisses her again as he lines himself up with her.

Her body clenches around his dick as he pushes inside her. He hums at the feeling while she shudders at the familiar stretch. Nico pushes until he's completely inside her. Then he waits for her permission to move.

The entire time, they share deep, longing kisses. Soft noises pass her lips and Nico swallows each sound. He's propped himself up on his elbows so he doesn't crush her under his body.

She allows herself to adjust to his size before nodding. "Go," she tells him without breaking the kiss.

Immediately, Nico rolls his hips. She lets her legs fall to the side to give him complete access to her. He starts slow, but his thrusts pick up speed every few seconds. He hooks one of her legs around his arm to get a new angle. The new angle allows him to move deeper into her.

"Nico," she gasps. "Fuck. Oh my- fuck."

His lips leave hers and attach to her jaw. Her back slightly arches off the bed to meet his hips when he goes to pull back. Nico pins her hips to the mattress. "Patience, liebling," he tells her. "I have you."

The tip of his dick grazes her favorite spot. She cries out his name then presses her lips into a line, cutting herself off. She probably shouldn't be too loud since who knows who's staying next to them. If it's a Devil, Nico will endure endless teasing from his teammates.

"Want you to be as loud as you want, baby," Nico pants against her skin like he can hear her thoughts. "I don't care who hears you."

"What if it's one of your-"

He pulls back and looks at her. "When I say that I don't care, I don't care," he reiterates. "Scream my name, scream in general. I really don't care. If my team hears how good I make my girl feel, they can deal with it because you know how much I love it when you're loud for me."

Her cheeks heat up, but she doesn't have time to respond because Nico slams into her. "Oh, fuck!" she cries out. "Nico. Oh my God."

"Good girl," Nico praises.

His words shoot straight to the forming knot in the pit of her belly. Her body begins to shake with her pending orgasm.

Nico's movements get messy as he gets closer to the edge himself. His speed is affected too. She matches his pace to chase her own climax.

"Nico, Nico Nico Nico," she chants. "Please."

"I have you," he pants. "Fall. I have you."

His movements slow, but he moves deeply inside her. His tip finds her favorite spot a couple of times and she's falling over the edge.

Her body clenches as she comes, squeezing his cock. Her vision whitens and she swears she sees stars. His name falls from her lips, as well as some curses.

She doesn't feel Nico pull out and spill on her stomach and thighs. She barely feels when he cleans her up. Consciousness finds her again when he crawls back into bed next to her. She looks over at him and gives him half a smile because she's still kind of out of it.

"Worth the surprise?" she asks.

"Absolutely," he replies. "Always worth the surprise."

The half a smile turns into a full smile and she curls up next to him. "Naptime, then dinnertime," she mumbles. "Don't let me sleep for more than an hour."

Nico hums in response and she's asleep seconds later.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The Devils beat the Sharks the next day, and Nico had a four point game. Two goals, two assists. It's not a bad day for the boys at all. She heads back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. The boys will go back and get out of their suits, but they'll still dress nice because the restaurant they're going to is on the fancier end. Not a suits kind of fancy, but a button-up and nice pants kind of fancy.

She's also wearing Nico's Stadium Series jersey and she can't go into a fancy restaurant wearing a hockey jersey. Plus, she picked out a nice dress to the occasion. Something that Nico will definitely like as soon as he sees her wearing it.

It's a little black number that hugs her curves. Thin straps on her shoulders hold the dress up, and the skirt falls just past her butt. She pairs the dress with black heels. It's a warm day in San Jose so she doesn't mind showing some extra skin.

Nico comes into the room as she's doing her hair in the bathroom. She finishes straightening her locks and peeks her head out into the main room. Nico is pulling off his suit jacket and beanie, tossing both items onto the chair in the corner of the room.

"There's my first star," she says as she steps out of the bathroom with a smile on her face. "What a game for the captain's birthday. Good to know the boys do love their leader since they showed up for you today."

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and hugs her. "Glad you were able to be there," he replies. He presses a kiss to her temple. "I saw you in the crowd. Hard to miss red in a sea of teal."

"I saw you point to me when you scored that first goal," she laughs. "I knew you saw me. You went on to have one of the best games of the season. Makes sense considering the season you're having."

He grins and lets her go. "Alright," he sighs. "Let me freshen up a bit and we'll head down to the lobby to meet up with the guys. Most of them will be joining us. I think Toff is stopping by with a couple of his teammates too to have a couple of drinks. You met Toffoli last year when he was a Devil, right?"

She nods in response. Tyler Toffoli and his wife Cat are two of the most down to Earth people she's ever met. She loved hanging out with them when all the couples would get together for things. Nico loved having him on the team while he was a Devil. Cat gave her advice on how to be a NHL girlfriend since it was still so new to her.

Nico goes to freshen up and she does some light makeup to finish her look. They head down to the lobby once Nico's ready to go.

Jack, Luke, Timo, and Lazar wait for the pair. She greets the boys with hugs and congratulations on the recent win. Dougie, Stefan, and Brett are the next to come down. There's small talk amongst the boys while everyone makes their way down to the lobby to head to dinner.

Once those who decided to go are all in attendance, everyone heads out to the limo bus that was rented for the night since about twenty hockey players are going out. They all pitched in for this rental to the restaurant.

There's barely enough room on the bus for the boys so sit, so she sits on Nico's lap. He wraps his arms around her waist to keep her from falling off. He talks with the Hughes boy on either side of him.

Luckily, the restaurant isn't too far from the hotel. It's only a ten to fifteen minute ride to their destination. She's grateful because the last thing she needed was to fall off Nico's lap and expose herself to the entire roster.

Nico holds her hand as the pair lead the group onto the building. She is the one that talks to the hostess.

"There should be a reservation for a party of 25 under the name of Hischier," she explains.

She looks at the book. "Yes, I see it," she replies. "Right this way. We have a private room for you, just as requested."

The hostess leads the large group to the private area for their dinner. They get a bunch of looks as they're lead to the room. They did just play and beat the Sharks so no wonder they're getting looks.

Nico sits at the head of the table. She sits on one side of him and Jack sits on the other. She looks across the table at Jack and says, "Thanks for setting all this up, and for bringing me out here."

Jack shrugs. "It was no problem," he replies. "It seemed to work."

She smiles and looks at the menu.

Tyler Toffoli comes into the room about fifteen minutes after they get there. Fabian Zetterlund and an injured Vitek Vanecek are with him. All the former Devils that are on the Sharks have made appearances. The boys fall right back into their old ways, or that's what Nico tells her.

Food and drinks are ordered. Conversations are being had. She looks around the room at Nico's team. He's surrounded by a great group of guys and she couldn't be happier that all these people are in his life. He loves being their captain. She sees it all the time.

Nico gets her attention. "Hey," he says. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighs. "Just thinking." She pauses for a beat. "You love this group and it just makes me happy that you're surrounded by them."

"They're my family away from home," he tells her. "And you're my home. Having all of you in the same room is my favorite thing. Just so you know."

She grins. Her eyes look around the room to see everyone engaged in their own conversation. She leans over the table and pulls Nico into a quick kiss. "I love you, birthday boy," she whispers.

"I love you more, liebling."

༺──────────────༻

MASTERLIST

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[hottiesforhockey]

mutual pining pt 2 ⎜n.hischier

pairings: nico hischier x reader genre: fluff ⎜ sequel ⎜smut ⎜ warnings: jealous nico ⎜ mentions of drinking ⎜praise as per usual ⎜ rushed sex ⎜ nico being needy and whiny ⎜ p in v ⎜ oral (m!receiving) ⎜nico is a physical touch boy ⎜unprotected sex (wrap it, ladies and gents) synopsis: 3 months after leaving nico behind in Switzerland after your whirlwind romance, you can't help but miss his stupid big brown eyes - maybe a trip to new jersey is in order. word count: 7.5k authors note:  this is the sequel to mutual pining - it's definitely a way to wrap up the original for the people that wanted to see them reunited! I hope everyone enjoys.

(unedited)

“Did everything get there safely?” Your sister’s voice carries through your AirPods as you weave through the crowds in the airport, dragging your oversized luggage behind you. 

“Seems like it — I’ll have to double check it at the hotel but it should be good.” You speak softly sending a quick smile to the security guard pressing the open button to the door. 

“And you got the tickets Luca sent?” Mia asks again, a rustling noise cutting through the phone as Luca’s voice fills your ears. 

“You should have the email with the tickets and the meet and greet pass — they shouldn’t give you any trouble.” Luca says softly, his voice filled with excitement as you let out a soft chuckle. 

“I did, it looks like everything is in order.” You agree, hailing down a taxi as soon as you hit the curb, the driver rushing out of the car to help you place your bags in the trunk and you tell the driver where to take you. 

“He’s not going to be expecting this.” Luca chuckles, the older brother in him bursting with pride at your plan to surprise Nico at one of his games. “He never shuts up about you.” He adds, quickly, the sound of a slap resonating as the phone rustles again your sisters voice coming back to your ears. 

“Everything is going to go fine. Nico will be excited to see you and Luca’s right, he doesn’t shut up about you.” She says teasingly, you can almost see the way she sticks her tongue out at her fiancee. 

“Look, I’m on the way to the hotel now, I’ll let you know how it goes after the game.” 

You lean your head back against the taxi seat, heart racing as you take in the unfamiliar cityscape rushing past your window. The streets of Newark blur by, a patchwork of neon signs, weathered brick buildings, and yellow cabs jostling for space. Everything feels heightened, like the world is holding its breath along with you. You can still hear Mia and Luca’s words echoing in your head — he never shuts up about you. Your heart twists with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

The driver glances at you in the rearview mirror, offering a polite smile.

“First time here?” he asks, his voice friendly.

You nod, barely able to keep your excitement contained. “Yeah, visiting a friend.”

The driver chuckles knowingly. “Lucky person. Visiting for business or pleasure?”

“Definitely pleasure,” you say with a soft laugh, your fingers drumming against your thigh as you glance at your phone. The email with the tickets and meet-and-greet pass sits at the top of your inbox, a glaring reminder of what’s waiting just hours away.

By the time you arrive at the hotel, the sun has dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. You thank the driver and pull your suitcase out of the trunk, nerves flaring again as you step into the lobby. Everything feels surreal — the grand chandeliers, the polished marble floors, the hushed conversations of travellers coming and going. You check in quickly, the receptionist handing you your room key with a cheerful smile.

You melt into the bed after placing your suitcase on the chair in the corner in the room - the twenty four hour travelling definitely taking a toll on your body - your back begging from a break as you take out your phone and start scrolling, liking the images from the New Jersey Devils admin on instagram, smiling at the photo of Nico bundled up in his coat and beanie - smiling at something his teammate is saying. 

The doubt creeps in slowly at first and then all at once. 

What if he’s not excited to see me? 

Maybe he wants to keep what happened over the summer a secret? 

Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. 

You phone dings with a message. 

Luca😇: don’t overthink this… his brain's going to implode when he sees you. 

You smile at the message, your soon to be brother in law already knowing you better then most people. When you had told Luca about your plan to meet back up with Nico he was ecstatic, the older brother going in depth about how devastated Nico was when you left. 

Someday.

You two had agreed upon and it had become a lifeline for you both according to Luca. 

Mia 😈: Wear something sexy.

Your phone dings again the message from your older sister lighting up the screen as you let out a snort of laughter, throwing your phone to the side as you let your eyes close and your body to melt further into the bed. 

Fuck, you’d kill for a nap right now. 

+

+

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the sound of your alarm jolts you awake. It’s already dark outside, the city lights casting a soft glow through the sheer hotel curtains. The nerves settle back in your chest the moment you blink away the sleep, but this time, they’re tangled with excitement. You’re really doing this.

You sit up, stretching your sore muscles before grabbing your phone. There are a few more messages waiting for you.

Mia 😈: Don’t be late!! 

Luca😇: Remember what I said — he’s been waiting for this. Trust me

With a deep breath, you push yourself off the bed and head to the closet, rifling through your suitcase for the outfit you meticulously picked for this moment. Something that would make you feel confident, something that would remind Nico of summer nights and quiet moments shared away from the world

After a quick shower, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your outfit, the skin tight black bodysuit tucked into your denim cargo pants, your trust black converse on your feet. Your heart races as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, giving yourself a small pep talk.

“You’ve got this. He wants to see you. This is what you both wanted.”

The ride to Prudential Center feels like a dream. The city hums with life outside the car window, and you can’t help but imagine Nico somewhere inside that arena, completely unaware of the surprise waiting for him. The thought brings a smile to your lips.

When you arrive, the street is buzzing with fans decked out in Devils gear, laughing and chatting as they make their way inside. You clutch your meet-and-greet pass tightly, your palms slightly sweaty. The staff at the entrance scans your pass - handing you one of the VIP lanyards before directing you toward a section of the stands where fans can watch the players warm up before the game, and explaining how to get to the meet and greet section after the game. The arena feels larger than life, the ice glistening under the bright lights. You find a spot close to the glass, your heart pounding as the players begin to trickle onto the ice. 

Your eyes search for him amongst the bodies —and then you see him.

The black retro jersey’s were one of your favourites from the moment you had seen it during your FaceTime hockey lessons with Luca, the sleek black uniforms standing out on the ice. Nico skates smoothly around the ice, occasionally stopping to read a sign or throw a puck over the glass - finally finding a spot besides his teammates on the other side of the ice, dropping into a kneeling position as he starts stretching. 

“He’s doing that on purpose — look at him putting on a show.” One of the fans besides your squeals as she films Nico on her phone, his stretching routine looking overly sexual as her friend besides her joins in on the squealing. They both turn towards you, taking in your lanyard in surprise, whispering between themselves before turning back to you. 

“How did you get that?” One of them asks pointing down to your lanyard. 

“Umm, a friend got it for me.” You respond quickly, looking down at the lanyard nervously. 

“Do you like know the players or something?” The other asks, your head shaking immediately, their attention quickly stolen as the players begin skating around the ice again, their hands pounding on the glass to try and catch the attention of the players closest to you. 

Your breath catches in your chest as you watch Nico skid to a stop in front of the two girls, taking in their sign with a smile as he reaches down to grab a puck off the ice, preparing to throw it over the glass towards them. His gaze flicks over to your for a second, his attention going back to the two girls before he double takes, his eyes locking with yours as you send him a shy smile. 

Nico’s mouth falls open a little as he takes you in, you hand waving to send him a small wave as he shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as he whispers something under his breath before skating straight off the ice, his hand rubbing his eyes as he makes his way back down the tunnel. 

“Well, that didn’t go to plan.” You huff, as you look down at your ticket making quick work of finding your seat amongst the crowds before the game starts. 

The buzz of the crowd fills the arena as you make your way to your seat, your nerves still buzzing, but now with a different kind of energy. You can't help but replay the moment over and over in your mind. Nico's reaction, that brief second of recognition before he skated off... it almost felt like time stood still, like the universe had paused to allow for that one perfect moment.

You settle into your seat, trying to steady your breathing, but your heart is racing. The game is about to start, and the lights dim, plunging the arena into darkness except for the gleaming ice and the spotlights following the players as they prepare for the opening face-off. The energy in the building shifts, becoming a living thing, vibrating with anticipation. Fans are chanting, clapping, and waving signs.

The arena feels alive, the sounds of skates slicing through ice, the thud of pucks against sticks, the roar of the crowd... it all feels so surreal, like you’re in the middle of something you’ve only ever seen from the outside.

A sudden pang of longing hits you — Nico, somewhere out there, likely focused on the game, unaware of your presence, unaware that you’re just a few feet away. You glance down at your meet-and-greet pass again, your thumb grazing the laminate. You can't shake the feeling that maybe he’s still processing the surprise, still trying to make sense of the fact that you’re here, after all these months.

Just before the game begins, you hear a voice over the loudspeaker announcing the start of the first period, and your eyes flick back to the ice. Nico’s already out there, his movements smooth and practiced, but there’s a noticeable energy to him tonight. A sharpness. 

Maybe it's the game. 

Maybe it's the surprise. 

Maybe it's you.

You watch him as he skates across the rink, focused, determined, but every once in a while, your eyes meet, even if only for a fraction of a second, and it feels like something unspoken passes between you. The connection that’s been there all along, even when you were miles apart, seems to hum in the air around you, settling into your chest like it never left.

The game plays on, the tension building as each team fights for dominance. You cheer when the Devils score, feeling your heart swell with the crowd, but your mind is elsewhere, still floating between the excitement of being here and the uncertainty of what comes next.

The final whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, and the arena erupts in cheers. You grab your things, your heartbeat quickening again as you make your way toward the meet-and-greet area. Staff direct you down a narrow hallway that leads to a small lounge area. The walls are lined with photos of past players, some famous moments frozen in time, a shrine to the history of the team. There’s a small group of fans gathered around, all eagerly chatting, waiting for their moment with the players. You stand there, trying to calm your nerves, trying to steady the rapid pace of your heart, but it’s hard. The anticipation is palpable, and you can feel it crawling under your skin, an hour ticking by as you stick close to the walls of the room - watching the fans interact with each other, excited over being able to meet their favourite players. 

And then, the door opens.

The players all trickle in, dressed in casual clothes as they find their space behind the table set up at the front of the room, the rest of the fans quickly falling into a queue as they make their way over to the table. The queue moves quickly, the staff ushering the fans along if their take over five minutes with each player, your gaze flicking over to Nico as you step up to the table, placing the jersey you bought down on the table as you look towards the player in front of you with a smile. 

“First time here?” He asks softly, your head nodding as your gaze flicks back to Nico, the captain conversing with a young fan animatedly, your own smile growing as you watch him. “Our captain does tend to capture the attention of all the pretty girls.” The player in front of you murmurs with a laugh, quickly signing before passing the jersey to the player besides him. 

“Hey, do I know you?” The next player asks, his voice clouded with a slight barely there accent as your gaze is torn away from Nico, looking down at the large player with a tilt of your head. 

“Ummm, I don’t think so.” You say softly. 

“No, I swear I’ve seen you before.” He starts again, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks over you, his eyes lighting up in recognition as he leans against the table shooting a look towards his captain before turning back to you with a knowing smile. “The lock screen.” He whispers before coughing slightly to cover up his words, signing your jersey and passing it down the line again. 

The players leans over whispering into the next mans ear, whose face lights up as he signs your jersey and passes it off again mimicking the movements of the man next to him as he continues the whispers down the line. The speed of the hockey players in surprising as they work hard to fast track you to their captain, each shooting you a shit eating grin until you stand to the left of him, his focus entirely on the young girl in front of him, the girl handing her phone off to a staff member as Nico rounds the table to stand besides her as the staff member snaps the photos, Nico giving the young girl a long hug before leaving her to run off the her parent, sliding back into his seat as he slides your jersey in front of him. 

“Thank you for coming.” Nico says softly as he searches for a spot to sign, “How’s your day been so far?” He questions, his eyes still glued on the fabric as he finds an empty spot on the large ’13’ on the back of the jersey. 

“It’s been pretty good so far, just got off a really long flight earlier today though.” You respond, your heart pounding against your chest as Nico’s pen pauses, his whole body locked tight as he takes in a deep breath, his eyes shooting up to yours as he jolts into a standing position the jersey forgotten on the table. 

“Schatz.” His voice is barely a whisper as he takes you in. 

“Hi Nico.” You smile, Nico’s hands tremble as he rounds the table, his dark eyes wide and disbelieving. For a moment, it seems like he doesn’t know what to do — whether to pull you into a hug or simply keep staring, afraid you might disappear like a dream. His lips part, but no words come out. His teammates glance over, nudging each other with knowing smiles, but the noise of the room fades to the background. It’s just you and him now.

“I can’t believe…” His voice cracks slightly as he steps closer. “You’re actually here.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you take a shaky breath. “Someday came a little sooner then I thought.” You glance around the room, all the attention on the two of you as you send him a small smile and flick your head back towards the crowd. “I think you’ve still got some work to do, captain.” You tease, his eyes moving back to the group with a grimace. 

“You’ll wait?” He questions softly, slowly taking steps back around the table until he sinks in his chair, finishing off his signature before holding his jersey out for you, holding it tight as you try to pull it out of his grip. 

“I’ll wait.” You confirm, Nico only releasing the jersey once he’s sure you’re telling the truth. 

The meet-and-greet eventually winds down, and Nico finishes signing the last few jerseys and taking pictures with the remaining fans. But his eyes keep flicking back to you, checking, making sure you haven’t left. The second the event is officially over, he excuses himself from his teammates and heads straight for you, his hand already reaching for yours before he even thinks twice about it.

“Come with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s something pleading in it, something raw.

You nod, letting him lace his fingers through yours as he tugs you toward a side door. The hallways are dimly lit, the buzz of the arena distant now as he leads you deeper into the private areas of the facility. He doesn’t say much, but his grip is firm, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid that if he does, you might disappear again.

He pushes open a door, revealing a quiet locker room, the air still carrying the faint scent of sweat and cologne. It’s empty, save for the two of you. The moment the door clicks shut behind you, the tension that’s been simmering all night boils over.

Nico turns to you, eyes dark and searching. "I thought I was dreaming when I saw you," he admits, voice husky. "I still can't believe you're here."

You take a step closer, your heart pounding. "I’m here, Nico."

A shaky breath leaves him as he lifts a hand to your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek before trailing down to your jaw, then to your lips. He’s hesitant at first, like he’s memorising you all over again, but when you tilt your head slightly, leaning into his touch, something in him snaps.

His lips crash into yours, desperate and hungry, years of longing pouring into the kiss. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the tension in his muscles, the way he’s holding himself back, barely keeping himself in check. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and he groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

“God, I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands roaming your back, pressing you even closer.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you kiss him again, letting your body tell him everything you can’t quite say yet. The weight of the past few months, the ache of missing each other, the relief of finally being together again—it all melts into this moment, into the way his hands grip your hips, the way your fingers trail down his chest.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath ragged. "I don’t want to let you go again."

You cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Then don’t."

Nico exhales sharply, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. He kisses you again, slower this time, savouring it, like he’s trying to make up for lost time. The world outside the locker room fades away, leaving just the two of you, tangled in each other, in the heat of something that feels like coming home.

“Um… sorry to interrupt but you’re in a public space.” A nervous laugh cuts through the locker room, Nico pulling away from you with a grown - his glare flicking over to his teammate, his fingers digging into your hips in a squeeze before he releases you, tucking you against his side as he turns to face his teammate. 

“Jack —” he acknowledges, “What do you want?” He grits out, the grumpy tone surprising you - Nico was anything but grumpy and it took everything you had to stifle your laugh, Jack’s eyes shooting to yours as a mischievous grin spread on his face before he looks back towards his captain. 

“We were all going to that bar downtown but wanted to know if you would come along?” Jack starts, taking a deep breath before he adds, “we have so many questions for her.” Nico tenses again, your hand slipping into his as you shoot a smile Jack’s way. 

“We would love to meet you there — trust me I’ve got plenty of my own questions.” Jack nods slowly, hesitating until you add, “Would you mind giving us a second, we’ll be there soon.” Jack takes the suggestion with a nod slowly slipping away from the two of you. 

You don’t get a chance to fully turn towards Nico before he’s is kissing you again, deeper this time, his desperation palpable. Your fingers tighten on his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, as if you can make up for all the lost time in this moment alone.

When he finally breaks away, his forehead presses against yours, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. His hands remain locked around your waist, thumbs tracing absentminded patterns against the fabric of your shirt.

“I missed you too,” you finally whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “More than you know.” Nico exhales sharply, like he’s been holding in a breath for months, and then he’s wrapping his arms around you, hugging you tightly against his chest. 

“You left,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with something that sounds like heartbreak. “And I didn’t know if someday would ever come.”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the raw honesty in his voice. “I didn’t either,” you admit, gripping the back of his hoodie. “But I’m here now.” Nico pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, studying you as if to reassure himself you’re real. His thumb strokes your cheek, and his lips quirk into a soft, almost disbelieving smile.

“I have so many things I want to say,” he murmurs, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “But I also don’t want to waste a single second talking.”

A breathless laugh escapes you. “We have time, Nico. We have time now.” 

+

+

The bar is loud and bustling by the time you get there - Nico keeping you tucked closely into his back as he leads you over to the corner booth where his friends already gather - each of them letting out loud hollers as they spot their captain pushing through the crowds, their smiles lighting up as Nico pulls you in front of him, tucking you into the booth. 

“I’ll go get us some drinks.” He says softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as his friends let out low whistles, your neck burning pink as you clear your throat. 

“So…” Jack starts, the smile on his face seeming contagious as it spreads across the group, all of them turning towards you. “Tell us everything — why has cap been such a sad sack since he got back from summer vacation?” Jack starts the rest of the group jumping in. 

“Oh, did he profess his love and you rejected him?” One of the players theorises your throat bobbing as you turn to the next one who speaks. 

“What about his lock screen? Is he your lock screen too?” Another player pipes in, your mouth falling open as you look around at the grown men in confusion. 

“I never knew hockey players were such gossips.” You laugh taking a breath before addressing each question individually. “I think it’s partially my fault Nico been so sad, and I didn’t reject him but I wasn’t as accepting as I should’ve been and he isn’t my lock screen and I had no idea I was his.” You answer the questions with a grimace, the players sitting back with a quick nod, accepting your answers with smiles. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jack interjects quickly, “I’ve never seen him so happy before.” 

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You agree as Nico reaches the table, popping your ice cold coke in front of you with a smile.

“No alcohol.” He confirms, looking at each of his teammates with a pinched expression, “I hope they weren’t too hard on you.” He says, you head shaking as you scoot over in the booth, patting the seat besides you for him to sit down. 

“Nope, just curious.” 

Nico slides in next to you, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours feels like coming home after a long journey. His teammates exchange knowing glances, their smiles widening.

"So, mysterious girl," one of them leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "how did you and our captain here meet?"

You glance at Nico, a silent question in your eyes. He nods, giving you permission to share. "We met last summer," you begin, a soft smile playing on your lips as the memory washes over you. "I was on vacation with my sister and her fiancé, who happens to be Nico's brother.”

"Ah, the infamous Swiss getaway," Jack chimes in, wiggling his eyebrows. "No wonder cap came back all moony-eyed and distracted."

Nico rolls his eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hip, a constant reminder of his presence. "It wasn't like that," he says, but the soft look he gives you betrays his words.

"Oh really?" another teammate chimes in. "Then why did you spend the first month back staring at your phone like it held the secrets of the universe?" A chorus of laughter erupts from the table, and you can't help but join in. Nico's cheeks flush slightly, but he doesn't deny it. Instead, he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Can you blame me?" he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. The tenderness in his voice makes your heart skip a beat. The conversation flows easily after that, the team's curiosity about you mixing with playful jabs at Nico. You find yourself relaxing, laughing along with their jokes and sharing small anecdotes from your summer together. Nico's hand never leaves your waist, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip, a constant reminder of his presence.

“Hey, I’m just gonna go get another drink, want anything?” You question, sliding yourself over Nico’s lap, his hands holding you steady as you slip out of the booth - Nico shakes his head, motioning to his still half drunk beer he had been nursing for most of the night. You nod as you start to squeeze through the crowd, slipping your way past numerous large groups until you find a spot to brace against the bar, waiting for one of the workers to catch their attention.

As you wait at the bar, you feel the heat of the crowded room pressing in around you. The bartender is busy, so you glance over your shoulder, just barely able to spot Nico at the booth, his eyes tracking your every move. You send him a reassuring smile before turning back to the bar, where a tall man with an easy smile has taken up the space beside you.

"Hey there," the stranger greets, leaning against the bar as he gives you a once-over. "Haven't seen you around here before. You new?"

You offer a polite smile, stepping slightly away without making it obvious. "Just visiting some friends."

"Lucky friends," he says, tilting his head. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, thanks," you reply firmly, turning your focus back to the bar, hoping he’ll take the hint. But he doesn’t.

"Come on," he coaxes, stepping closer than necessary. "Just one drink. I don’t bite." You stiffen as his fingers brush your arm, a forced chuckle leaving his lips when you recoil. 

"I said no," you repeat, sharper this time, your patience wearing thin.

His smirk falters for a split second before returning, more insistent now. "Relax, sweetheart. No need to be so uptight. Just trying to be friendly."

"And I’m trying to be clear," you snap, shifting to put more space between you, but he moves with you, blocking your path. "Back off." Before the tension can escalate further, a strong arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you flush against a solid chest. The scent of cologne and something distinctly Nico floods your senses before you even look up to confirm who it is.

"She’s taken," Nico’s voice is firm, edged with something dark, something possessive. His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he levels the man with a stare that is nothing short of lethal.

The stranger raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips. "No offence, man. Just being friendly."

Nico doesn't respond immediately, his jaw set tight. His fingers flex against your hip, a silent claim. "Then be friendly somewhere else."

The tension in the air is thick, but the stranger chuckles, shaking his head before muttering, "Alright, alright, message received." With that, he steps back and disappears into the crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning in Nico’s arms to face him. His eyes are still stormy, flickering with something unreadable. 

"Nico—"

"I didn’t like that," he admits bluntly, his accent thicker with emotion. "I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

You soften, reaching up to cup his face, fingers grazing over the sharp edge of his jaw. “I think you’re overthinking things a little bit?” He exhales, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for a brief moment. 

"I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to like other guys thinking they have a chance."

Your lips twitch, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Possessive much?"

He tilts his head, a slow smirk finally breaking through his jealousy. "Maybe a little."

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, feeling the last of the tension melt from his shoulders. "Come on, captain," you tease, nodding toward the table. "Your friends are probably placing bets on whether or not you threw a punch."

“Or…” Nico starts, his gaze shooting over to the table of his teammates before locking back on yours, “We could go home?” 

A shiver runs down your spine at the word 'home'. It's a simple word, yet it carries so much weight when Nico says it. It's not just about a place; it's about the feeling of belonging, of safety, of finally being where you're supposed to be. The thought of leaving the crowded bar, of escaping the prying eyes and the boisterous laughter, and going somewhere private with Nico... it's incredibly tempting. You glance at the table. His teammates are engrossed in their own conversations, oblivious to the silent exchange happening between you and Nico. They'd probably tease him mercilessly if he left so soon, but...

"What about your friends?" you ask, even though you already know what you want.

Nico shrugs, his arm tightening around your waist. "They'll understand. Besides," he adds, a playful glint in his eyes, "they'll have plenty to gossip about tomorrow anyway." You can't help but laugh. He's right. His teammates are probably already compiling a detailed report of every interaction you've had with Nico tonight, ready to dissect it at their next practice.

"Okay," you say, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's go home."

Nico's smile mirrors yours, a mixture of relief and anticipation. He leans down, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to your lips. "Let's go," he whispers, his voice husky.

He takes your hand, and together, you navigate your way through the crowded bar, his body shielding you from the jostling crowd. As you step out into the cool night air, the city lights twinkling around you, a sense of calm washes over you. The noise and the chaos of the bar fade into the background, replaced by the quiet intimacy of being alone with Nico.

The walk back to his apartment is short, but it feels like an eternity. Every step you take brings you closer to being alone with him, closer to finally having some time to yourselves, away from the prying eyes and the curious questions.

As you reach his building, Nico pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "I've been waiting for this all night," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, his lips grazing the side of your neck.

You lean into him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Me too," you whisper back.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is filled with a charged silence. You can feel the anticipation building between you, a tangible energy that crackles in the air. When the doors finally open on his floor, Nico doesn't hesitate. He takes your hand again, leading you down the hallway to his door. The moment the door to Nico's apartment closes behind you, the last of the restraint you've both been holding onto snaps. His hands are on you in an instant, fingers digging into your hips as he presses you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals your breath away.

You fingers take tight grip of his shirt, pulling him as close as he can get as his hands leave your body, bracing himself on the wall besides your head as he lets out a choked groan. “You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured this.” He groans into your mouth, his hips trapping yours against the wall, his head pulling back for just long enough to glance down at you, his need for your reassurance gleaming in his eyes as you shoot him a soft smile. 

“I wasn’t lying last time we were together.” Nico whispers, “I would give anything to keep you with me, right here, forever.” Your eyes widen for a second, Nico’s widening as well as the words fall out of his mouth, his mouth pursing shut as he grimaces his face scrunching as the weight of what he says lingers between you. 

“Me too.” You breathe out, your hands releasing his shirt, skimming up his torso until you cup his cheeks, “I would give anything to stay, right here, forever.” You confirm, Nico traps his bottom lip between his teeth as your thumbs stroke his cheeks, his eyes squeeze shut as he drops his head against your shoulder, letting out a shuddered breath. 

“Schatzi.” He whispers as you nods, your hands running gently through his hair as you let out a soft chuckle. 

“I know.” You pulls his head away from your shoulder, gently pushing his body away from yours. “It’s my turn to take care of you this time.” You smile, taking his hand in yours as you pull him behind you down the hallway, the sight of his bedroom speeding up your steps, “clothes off.” you say quickly releasing his hand, watching as he strips the fabric off his body quickly, his cock bobbing against his abdomen as he pulls off his underwear. 

“Sit on the bed, Nico.” You say with a tilt of your head, watching as the large hockey player takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, his eyes widening as you sink to your knees in front of him, flicking your hair over your shoulder. 

“Wait— you don’t hav—” 

“I want to.” You confirm, shuffling forwards until your slip between his legs, your hands bracing on your thighs as you look up at him with a smile. 

You take a moment to admire the sight in front of you, Nico's muscular body tense with anticipation. His cock twitches under your gaze, making you smile. You love the effect you have on him, the way his body responds to your every touch.

Slowly, teasingly, you lean forward, letting your breath ghost over his hard length. Nico shivers, a soft groan escaping his lips.

"Please," he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

You don't make him wait any longer. Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, tasting the bead of pre-cum that's gathered there. Nico's hips jerk at the contact, a sharp inhale filling the room.

"So good," he murmurs, his hand coming to rest gently on your head, not pushing, just a reassuring presence. “Please.” He pleads again, “I’ll beg if you want me to.” Ignoring his words you take your time, you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock, savouring the way it throbs under your tongue. Nico's praise continues, spurring you on, making you feel powerful and wanted.

"Your mouth is incredible," he breathes as you finally take him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. "So hot, so tight." His hands move slowly, gathering your hair away from your face, his grip ever so gentle as he stops it from getting in your way.

You moan your approval, the sound vibrating around his cock, and you can feel him shudder. Slowly, you start to move, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper with every pass. Your hands find their way to his thighs, feeling the muscles bunch and flex under your touch.

"Fuck, just like that," Nico encourages, his voice strained. "You're doing so well, Schatzi.”

His praise fills you with warmth, making you want to please him even more. You redouble your efforts, using every trick you know to make him feel good. You swirl your tongue around his head, you hollow your cheeks for suction, you even let him slip into your throat, relishing the choked moan it earns you.

“Wait...” He yelps, you mouth pausing on his, Nicos hands slipping under your arms as he pulls you off of him and into a standing position, his pupils blown out as he looks down at you. “I need to be inside of you.” He groans, his hands tucking your hair behind your ears as you nod. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He says quickly as he watches you undo the button on your pants, sliding them down your legs, your eyes flicking back up to his as you take in his panic. “I didn’t think I was going to need one.” He says with a tight laugh, his hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. 

You smile as your raise your brows, kicking your pants away as you raise your hands to the hem of your body suit, pulling it up and over your head once you undo the clasps, your bralette catching all of Nico’s attention, another choked groan leaving his mouth at the sight of you in your underwear. 

“Didn’t you hear me?” He continues, a frown forming on his face as his eyes follow your motions, your hands pulling the bralette over your head, your boobs bouncing free of their confines, your hands slipping down to the edges of your panties next. 

“I heard you.” You confirm, sliding your cotton underwear down your legs, a teasing smile on your face as you add, “I just don’t care.” 

“But we should use protection.” Nico says in confusion, his head tilting as you walk towards his bed, perching down on the edge as you look up at him. 

“We should.” You agree, “But we don’t have any, and I’m not about to tell you to stop.” You confirm, Nico’s mouth falling open in surprise, “I have an IUD, and I assume we’re both clean.” You say, leaning back on your hands as you watching Nico’s gaze trail across your body. He nods quickly at your words, hesitating for another moment as you slide further back onto his mattress, opening your arms to him as you fall onto your back. 

“Then fuck me like you mean it.” You coo, Nico not wasting time in delving onto the mattress on top of you.

Nico's eyes darken with lust at your words, and he doesn't hesitate any longer. He settles himself between your legs, his cock hot and hard against your inner thigh.

"You're sure?" he asks one last time, needing to hear you say it.

In response, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I've never been more sure of anything," you say, your voice thick with desire. That's all the encouragement he needs. With a groan, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside. You're wet and ready for him, but the stretch still burns. In the best way.

"Oh, Schatzi," Nico breathes, his forehead dropping to yours. "You feel incredible. Just like I remember.” He pulls out slowly, then thrusts back in, making both of you moan.

“Mhm,” you encourage, your hands finding purchase on the muscles of his back. "Just like that. Don't hold back." Nico nods, his hips starting to move with purpose. Each thrust is deep and powerful, his pelvis grinding against your clit just right. It's perfection, and your moans echo around the room, mixing with his.

"More," you beg, your nails digging into his skin. "Harder. I need more."

"So greedy," Nico chuckles, his speed increasing. The bed creaks under the force of his thrusts, and the sound is almost as erotic as the wet slap of flesh against flesh.

"Only for you," you manage to pant out, the coiling tension in your gut making it hard to think, let alone speak.

"Good," Nico growls, his hips moving at a punishing pace now. "You're mine, aren't you? This pussy is all mine."

"Yours," you agree shamelessly. "All yours." It's the truth. In this moment, you are entirely his. 

"This is going to be quick," he warns, his voice guttural. “I’ve been waiting too long.”  You can only nod frantically, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up on your elbows, your fingers linking with his as he leans down to catch your lips again. Nico's hands grip yours bruisingly tight, holding you still as he slams into you again and again.

“Come for me, Nico.” You whisper against his mouth, your pussy squeezing so tightly against him, his hips stutter. 

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, closing his eyes as he drops his head to your shoulder, his hips still moving as he shakes his head, holding off his orgasm. “I think I’m in love with you.” He whispers against the soft skin of your shoulder, his teeth digging into the skin there as he finds his release - one of your hands releasing his as your run your fingers through his hair, whispering soft praise in his ear as you collapse against the mattress, Nico still pressed tightly against you as he lets out a shaky breath. 

“I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Nico questions brings a bubble of laughter out of your mouth, yours hands still smoothing against his hair as you feels his hips shift, his dick sliding out of you as he rolls off your body, his cheeks flushed a bright red as he throws his arm over his face. 

“You did.” You confirm, letting out another small laugh as you turn on your side to face him, sliding his sheet up and over both your bodies as you tug on his arm, pulling it away from his face with a lot of effort. “I think I’m in love with you too.” You whisper, as you lean forwards to press a soft kiss to his temple before sliding off the mattress, gliding into the bathroom. 

“You can’t just drop that bomb and then leave me here.” He says through a groan, tuning his head against his bed to watch you walk away.  His big brown eyes pleading as you turn in the doorway to his ensuite. 

Those stupid big brown eyes. 

“Then come after me.” You say letting out a soft squeal as Nico launches himself off the mattress after you, the man needing no more of an invitation to follow behind you. 

“I’m grateful for someday.” Nico whispers as he tugs you under the hot spray of the shower, his arms wrapped around your waist as the water drenches your bodies, washing the smell of sex and sweat off both of you. “I want someday to last for as long as it can.” He continues, one arm stay wrapped around you as he reaches for the loofa. 

“Someday starts now.” You confirm - turning in his arms to look up at him, his eyes shining as he catches your lips with his, your bodies pressed impossibly close as you add, “Someday can last for as long as we want it to.” 

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: Traveling. Any annoying but necessary part of any actors job for the non-traveling party. But the welcome homes? They are oh so fucking sweet. Tags: it's filth with some cute plot, shower sex, kisses, more banter than is reasonable in polite society Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author’s Note: Y'all listen. I know. Okay. It's been a while, and to be honest? I started this in fucking January, but hey. It's here now, right? We're all chill? No one's upset? Good. LOVE YOU!

He’d been away for days, but it felt like weeks. Your feed has been covered in photos of him. The algorithms have you pretty much figured out. You’d been keeping up with his interviews, watching clips of his adorably awkward award acceptance speech. It wasn’t a surprise award, but it didn’t matter that he was prepared for it. He was incapable of being acknowledged for his achievements without turning into the equivalent of a turtle hiding in its shell. You’d have reached out to hold his hand and ground him if you could, but you’d been here. Alone. Missing him. But all that was soon to change.

He was on his way home. Annoyingly, his flight had been delayed, but as you stared up at the JFK arrivals board and it read: ‘Arrived’, you couldn’t help the bubbling up of excitement and giddy nervousness. It seemed like Tony was picking up on it as well because he stood against your leg, pawing at your thigh until you picked him up. He’d been missing his dad and had taken more comfort in your presence since he’d left. 

Your ears perked when the announcement that the baggage from his flight was about to begin its rounds through the baggage claim area. Your phone vibrated in the thigh pocket of your leggings. You gave Tony a quick squeeze before setting him back on the floor and taking your phone out. You smiled at the preview of the text you’d just received before you swiped to see the rest. 

‘Your fine ass better be waiting for me down there.’ 

You smirked before typing out a teasing reply. 

‘Got stuck in traffic a few times but I’m here. I hate Newark btw.’ 

You watched the dots appear and couldn’t help the audible laugh that escaped when you read his next message. 

‘Newark!?’ 

You interrupted him with a quick ‘I’m joking!!!’ before you could see what he was typing next. Then after a brief pause, the dots reappeared before his reprimand. 

‘You know you’re this close to the find-out stage of fuckin around?’ 

‘Oh? What if that’s exactly what I want?’ 

‘👀’

‘Not that I want to rush through the fuckin around part 😏’  

“I’ll be taking my sweet fucking time…don’t worry.”

You startled at his audible reply and your eyes shot up from your phone and met his as Tony pulled at the leash in your hand to reach him. He looked a bit tired but happy. His smile was wide across his stubbled face, quirking up at the corner when you smiled back. 

“Hey buddy!” he said, handing you his pillow before bending down to scoop Tony up into his arms. “I missed you!” he swooned in the adorable baby voice he reserved for his furry son. “Did you miss me too?” He rubbed Tony’s head and then his tummy. “Such a good boy!” 

You smiled at the two of them, pulling Tony’s leash from your wrist and handing it to Dylan. Tony would be stuck to him like glue now. 

“Hey, baby,” he said softly before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. One just long enough to make you the tiniest bit dizzy and eager for more. 

You blinked away distracting thoughts. “Do you have much luggage?” 

Dylan shook his head. “Just this,” he said pointing at his backpack, “and one bag on the turnstiles.” 

“Should be over there, they just announced it,” you said, taking a few steps toward the baggage claim area.

“Nice!” he said, hiking Tony up onto his shoulder a bit before he followed after you. 

His bag passed in front of him and he hefted it off the belt and popped out the handle and you took it from him so he could focus on the excited ball of fur in his arms. You set his pillow on it and wheeled it behind you toward the cab that was waiting out front. As much as you hated early morning airport runs, you were glad his 4 AM delayed arrival made the whole airport experience a lot smoother. Fewer people. Less traffic. You’d been able to get in and out without so much as a sideways glance from anyone else. 

“Hey you,” he said as he slumped in the seat next to you, Tony taking up the little bit of space between you. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling back at him. 

It was just after 5 AM and you’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Originally, he was supposed to have gotten in at midnight and had been scheduled to arrive at Newark, but his flight had been canceled. When he called you to let you know, you were already getting ready to catch the Uber you’d called to take you to the airport. You had a habit of being too punctual. But that also meant that you had a hard time settling and only managed a short nap before you got up to head to JFK. You were a bit tired, but feeling his warmth next to you for the first time in a while was enough of a comfort to fight off the droop of your sleepy eyes. You wanted to see his smile, the upturned tip of his nose, the lopsided smile he sported as he pet Tony. Sleep could wait. 

The drive back to the loft was rather uneventful. Traffic was light, you weren’t sure you’d ever made it the Carey Tunnel faster than you just had. When you hopped out of the car, Dylan gathered his bags from the back of the car and you headed up to the apartment. Home. It was always a comfortable place, but it was warmer when he was in it.

“Smells nice in here…” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his shoulders sagged in relaxation. “I missed it.” 

“And I missed you.” You stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist and he quickly pulled you to his chest, looping his arms over your shoulders and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“You did, huh?” he chuckled, the heat of his exhaled breath warming your skin. 

“Mhm…” you hummed, laying your cheek against his chest. The loft was dimly lit by a single lamp near the sofa in the living room and the streetlights that filtered in through the large windows. It added to the comfort you felt in his arms. 

“I missed you more,” he whispered.

“Impossible.” 

He sighed out a long breath, holding you tight to his chest before he pulled back, his hands clasped around your waist, eyes locked to yours. The warm, honey-brown hue of them sent a shiver down your spine, of course, it didn’t help that he’d begun to work his hands under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips pressing just a little more firmly into the bare skin covering your ribs when he leaned down to kiss you. 

His lips were insistent, the kiss at the airport clearly not satiating the need that had built during your time apart. It was a comforting reminder that his infatuation with you must be at least somewhat comparable to your own. 

You moaned when his lips wandered along your jaw and latched to your throat just below your ear. Not to be outdone and wanting a little audible thrill of your own, you were satisfied at the deep groan that emanated from the back of his throat when one of your roaming hands slipped down between your bodies to graze across the front of his thigh until it was cupping him through his sweatpants. 

“Definitely missed that,” he breathed out across your collarbone before pushing your hair back and sliding the collar of your shirt aside to access more of your skin. 

You laughed softly before it morphed into a half-whispered moan of his name when his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin above your breast. “Fuck…” you breathed, squeezing your hand around him eliciting an appreciative grumble from him that you felt vibrate the aching bit wet skin he’d been sucking on your chest. 

When you released your grip to slip your hand behind the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed your wrist. “Not yet…” he chuckled when he pulled back to see you scowling at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling at you, brushing an errant hair back from the place where it hung in your eyes, “I’m gonna make you scream…” 

You swallowed thickly. 

“I’d just rather not reek like a man who’s known only seat 23A for 10 hours when I do it.” 

You chuckled softly. “Well…” you smiled back before reaching both hands around behind him, “then you better get this,” you squeezed his ass, “fine thing in the shower then.” You gave him a gentle spank. 

He laughed and pressed a kiss into your hair. “Thirsty little monster,” he said, running his hand down your arm. “Join me?” he said, pleading gaze meeting yours. 

You nodded and he took your hand, lacing your fingers together and leading you through the apartment toward the bathroom. The gentle squeeze of his hand in yours sent a satisfying ripple of warmth through your body. Just as you’d made it through the door to the bathroom, you tugged on his hand and swung his body to pin him against the counter of the vanity. 

He let out a soft huff at the gentle impact and smiled down at you as you grabbed at the hem of his shirt and yanked it roughly up over his body. His bare chest heaved as your eyes roved over him, your hands following your gaze across his pecs, through the soft hair, down his abs, settling on the waistband of his sweats before you began to crouch in front of him as you slid them down his thighs to pool at his feet. 

You looked at him from between his thighs and watched as his brown eyes turned near-black, crouching there longer than was necessary to achieve the task, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Fucking tease…” he muttered under his breath before he hauled you up in front of him and stripped your top off, tossing it across the room before he latched onto your throat and bit down. 

While you writhed in his arms, his hands warmed up your back until his fingers worked open the clasp of your bra. He slipped his fingers under the straps and slid them free of your shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. 

“Mmm…” he mused, looking down at your chest before he leaned forward and captured your lower lip between his teeth and pulled it back slightly before releasing it to kiss down the column of your throat. He cupped you breast and brought his lips to the peak and flattened his tongue in a wide sweep before sealing his lips to suck your nipple until it was taut and pebbled.

“Dylan…” you groaned, your hands tangling into his hair.

He held you against his body and swapped your positions until your lower back was pressed against the vanity. He nipped at your chest before he finally pulled back and lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them from you, throwing them into a heap with the rest of your discarded clothing. Then he slotted himself between your thighs. “Shower’s right there…” he titled his head in its direction, “and yet here we are…” he smiled, his fingertips trailing down from your arms, along your ribs and waist until they teased at the elastic of the last piece of clothing you were left wearing.  

“Here we are…” you repeated, looking down your body at his hand as it slipped into your underwear. You fell forward into his chest when you felt his teasing, barely there touch where you were now aching to feel it. Your sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed.

He leaned in and grinned against the skin of your throat before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the tendon running the length of it. “Something wrong?” he teased, still not touching you the way you wished he would. 

“Please…” you whispered. 

The little amused noise he made only frustrated you more, because Instead of giving in to your need, he hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear and stepped back from you to slide them free from your legs. He twirled them around his long index finger before letting them slip out of his hands to the floor. His eyes roamed over you, exposed to him now, perched on the counter. “Fucking perfect…” he breathed, giving his head a slight shake.

You flushed under his attentive gaze, your own eyes catching on the obvious sign of his own interest tenting the front of his boxer briefs. “Talkin’ about yourself?” you finally managed. 

He smiled and shook his head. 

“You should be…” you sighed, “but you could stand to be just a bit more naked…” you pointed to his underwear. 

He laughed. “Fair,” he said before turning around to turn on the shower. He looked back at you, smirking as he hooked his thumbs in the band of his boxers. When he slid them down his thighs the need you felt for him was almost unbearable. He held out a hand to help you down. “Time to get you wet,” he said with a smirk. 

“Too late.” 

His brows shot up his forehead. “Fuck… me…” he muttered

You stepped past him, your hands gliding over his naked torso, and into the shower. “That’s the plan.” 

He followed after and closed the door, the glass quickly began to fog with the steam as you stood under the spray of the faucet. Even though you knew the water was hot, it almost felt cool on your heated skin. Dylan watched you as you ran your hands over your body before he reached out, gripping your hips. He shoved you back against the wall and his lips crashed into yours. 

You reached up clasped around his neck, your hands tangling into the wet strands of his hair, deepening the kiss and tasting the faint hint of mint on his tongue. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip, pulling it taut before he kissed along your jawline. 

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath against your throat.

“Soap’s over there,” you sighed, jutting your chin to the shelf in the corner. 

“Right… showering…” his teasing mouth paused and he pulled back from you. “You’re so fucking distracting…” he groaned, his grip on your hips shifting to your ass before he squeezed it in both of his palms. 

You grinned and wet your lower lip with your tongue. 

“Not helping.”

You laughed before you pushed him away enough to grab the body wash from the shelf and squeeze it onto his loofa. “Lemme help then,” you said, gesturing for him to turn around in front of you, the water now striking him in the chest. 

He didn’t protest, and quickly spun around as you took a small step closer, so your wet body was pressed briefly against him before you began to scrub his shoulders and upper back. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, rolling his neck. 

You tickled him enough to raise his arms so you could wash them both thoroughly. You smiled watching him noticeably relax his shoulders. You washed down his back, sliding the loofa down to the dips in his low back and over his perfect ass. 

“Taking your time back there…” he chuckled. 

“Stop having such a nice ass and maybe I’d make quicker work of it.” 

He shook a bit with a contained laugh. “Noted.” 

You finally relented, taking one last look at his soapy cheeks before you reached around to scrub his chest and stomach, not spending too much time before reaching down and squeezing the loofa at his belly button and letting the soap begin to run down his body. Your free hand followed after it until it was teasing at the coarse hair, brushing just where you knew he was dying for you to touch him. 

“Relentless fucking tease–” 

You cut off his complaint by wrapping your hand around his sudsy length and pumping him just once. “You were saying?” you breathed against his back before you kissed his shoulder blade before you pumped him again. 

He groaned, his head falling forward. “I’ll shut up… just don’t fucking stop.” 

You beamed with pride. It wasn’t like he never begged, but it was far less common than your own pleadings that more frequently bounced off the walls of this room. You rewarded its rarity by picking up the pace with your hand, pinning him against you with the other hand pressing against the front of his thigh, the loofa long forgotten at his feet. 

He stuttered forward, one hand coming up to hold his weight against the tiled wall the other grasping gently at your wrist, not stopping you, but guiding your hand. “Fuck,” he cursed, the last consonant of it coming out shuddered and low.

You were growing more and more impatient with each second. The ache between your thighs was forcing you to squeeze them together for some kind of relief. You moaned in frustration, your pace faltering. 

Dylan squeezed your wrist and stilled your hand. “Someone sounds needy…” he whispered, pulling your hand free of him and swapping your positions. He pressed you back against the wall and grabbed your body wash from the shelf, squeezing some into his palm. 

You watched him warm his hands together, lathering the gel into foamy suds in those gorgeous fucking hands that you knew he was about to touch you with. 

He smirked at the audible sound of you swallowing before he cupped one of your breasts, his other hand snaking around you, his fingers teasing the dimples of your lower back. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his nose nudging your chin up enough for him to run his tongue up the length of your throat before he kissed you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest, your skin pebbled with goosebumps, your body sang under his touch. You’d missed him. God, how you’d missed him. It should be against the Geneva Convention for him to be away from you this long. Torture, pure and simple. But this? This was as close as you could imagine to what it might feel like to be moments from dying of thirst in a vast desert only to stumble into the cool waters of an oasis.

He slid his hand down your body and, without a hint of teasing or pretense, rubbed your clit with the pads of two fingers. 

“Holy. Sh–!” you cussed, only getting half of it out before it devolved into a strangled moan. 

Dylan nudged at your chin as your head lolled in pleasure, his lips skimming across your skin, breathing out praise as he continued to swirl his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you writhing against him. “Missed the way you sound…” he nipped your neck, “the way you feel…” he groped at your chest again with his free hand, “the way you taste…” he kissed you again, his tongue demanding entry into your mouth. 

His talented fingers had you approaching the edge, that warm feeling building up inside you, that pressure that made you feel like you were electrified. “Dyl… please…” you softly begged when he gave you a moment to finally breathe. 

His lips slipped from yours, your noses touching, both of you panting in the same air. Then you whined when you felt his fingers disappear from you. He stepped back into the stream of water and pulled you with him, kissing you everywhere his lips could reach as the hot spray of the shower rinsed you both clean of suds. 

You looped your arms around his neck and he gripped the backs of your thighs, hauling you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

His eyes were wide with the same wonder he somehow still held for you even though he’d had you so many times there was no way to keep count. It made you feel warm and wanted. Desired and beautiful.  

“Could stay in this shower for the rest of my fucking life…” he said as he pinned your back to the wall and bucked up against you, slickening himself in the folds of your body, driving the head of his cock into your already sensitive clit. 

Your eyes rolled back at the contact, your hips rocking forward to meet the roll of his. “We’ll… we’ll get all pruney….” you finally breathed out. 

He laughed against your throat before he kissed, nipped, and sucked what you knew would be an impressive little bruise into your skin. “So be it,” he said, and then he shifted his hips, met your gaze, and slid into you to the hilt. 

The stretch, the fullness, it was almost as shocking now as the first time you’d felt him buried inside you. It was perfection, blissfully indecent perfection. You moaned his name, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as he began to set a punishing pace, driving up into you hard, rutting his body against yours enough to stimulate you in just the right places, inside and out. 

“Shit!” you swore, letting your head fall back against the tiled wall. 

He fucked into you over and over as you felt yourself edging closer to the brink. You felt your thighs begin to shudder as his pace grew more erratic an unpredictable. 

“So fucking tight…” he groaned before he kissed the valley between your collarbones. 

The strangled need in his voice, the feel of his breath against your skin–all of it coupled with the delicious way the end of his length was pressing into that perfect spot inside you that made you feel like you were losing touch with reality–you were ready. “Fuck, Dyl–” 

He raised one hand to press on your chin enough to force your gaze back to his, the pad of his thumb dragging across your lower lip. 

You moaned and flicked at it with the tip of your tongue. “I’m so close… please!” you begged.

He drove his thumb between your lips and when you sucked it into your mouth, he slipped the hand on your thigh between your legs to rub his finger over your clit just when he drove a final thrust against your g-spot. 

You’d had your fair share of fantastic orgasms at this man’s hands, literally, but this one was up there standing proudly on the podium collecting its medal. It was a rush of pent-up need and desire that washed over you like a crashing tidal wave. Every single cell in your body felt like it was vibrating with pleasure. Your muscles clamped down on him as you felt him join you in his own release. The feel of him spilling into you, the sound of your name falling from his slack lips, making it all so much more intense. It was perfection. Pure and simple. Absolute. Unadulterated. Bliss.

Your chest heaved against his, both of you softly laughing between kisses before you felt him slip free of your body. His hands warmed up your arms before they cupped either side of your neck. 

“I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled at him, leaning in to run your nose along his throat until your lips were at his ear. “I love you too.” 

He sighed and his lips found yours, but he held back from the kiss long enough to speak. “Hell of a welcome home.” 

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Seven

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 8k

💥TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains DARK THEMES. Please proceed with caution💥

Three Years Ago

The Connecticut air is crisp and tinged with the faint scent of freshly trimmed hedges and distant flowers. This place, with its wide driveways and pristine sidewalks, radiates stability, security, and the promise of a new beginning.

Ivy steps out of the moving truck, stretching her arms above her head as her eyes sweep over the house before her. The stately two-story colonial, with its pale gray siding, crisp white shutters and perfectly manicured lawn, exudes the quiet elegance of suburban wealth. Nestled in a neighborhood of tree-lined streets and sprawling properties, her new home looks like something out of a postcard—a far cry from the cramped apartments and relentless hustle of Newark, New Jersey.

For the first time in a long while, she feels like she’s standing on the threshold of something good. It’s exactly why she chose this place. She needed a fresh start. A quiet space to raise her daughter away from the ghosts that haunted her in the city.

As Ivy leans against the truck, her gaze drifts to Zaia, who is bounding up the porch steps with the boundless energy only a three-year-old could have. Ivy smiles faintly, but the weight in her chest doesn’t quite lift. This move is supposed to be about letting go, but some memories cling too tightly.

Her mother’s funeral flashes through her mind. She can still feel the damp chill of the cemetery, the weight of the rain-soaked soil she helped shovel onto the casket and bury her last remaining parent figure. It was one of the hardest days of her life, standing there alone, clutching Zaia to her chest as the little girl asked if Grandma was in Heaven now. Ivy could barely reply, overwhelmed by tears and an aching sense of loss. Her mother was her anchor, her rock, even when life felt impossible. Now, with her gone, Ivy had no safety net, no one to turn to.

But that loss wasn’t the only thing pushing her to leave. Every corner of Newark reminded her of the betrayal she suffered. Of Angelo—the man she once thought she’d spend forever with. The man who cheated on her. His infidelity was a punch to the gut, and each time she saw his face, it was a reminder of how broken she felt. Zaia’s father, the man who was supposed to love her, shattered the trust she built, and Ivy couldn’t stand the thought of raising her daughter in the same city that held such painful memories.

Without her mother and without Angelo, Newark felt hollow, suffocating. It was as if the city itself had turned against her, and she couldn’t breathe here anymore. So, she made the decision to move—to start fresh in a place where the past wouldn’t be able to reach her, where she can rebuild with Zaia by her side. Hartford offered her that chance to build something new. A new job, a newer, better life for her baby and for herself. 

Ivy straightens, pushing the memories down as best she can. She wipes her hands on her jeans and moves to grab the first box.

“Mama! Can I pick my room?” Zaia’s bright voice pulls her from her thoughts, and Ivy manages a real smile this time.

“Of course, baby. But let’s make sure the rooms are big enough for all your toys,” she says, teasing.

Zaia giggles, already racing into the house, her curls bouncing with each step. Ivy watches her go, and for a moment, the ache in her chest eases.

The first night is a whirlwind of unpacking boxes and chasing after Zaia, who insists on exploring every corner of their new home. The next morning, Ivy decides a grocery run is in order—her fridge is completely bare and living on only takeout meals won’t cut it.

By the time they reach the checkout line at the local store, Zaia is fully in hyperactive mode. She keeps trying to grab candy from the nearby display, giggling mischievously when Ivy places each item back.

“Zaia, put that down,” she scolds gently, glancing at the growing pile in the cart. She feels frazzled, her nerves frayed from the stress of moving and the unrelenting energy of her daughter.

“Looks like someone’s got their hands full,” a warm, lilting voice says behind her.

Ivy turns to see a curvy woman with deep golden skin and a radiant smile. She’s effortlessly stylish, wearing a flowing sundress and gold hoop earrings that sway as she tilts her head. The woman grins down at Zaia, who immediately abandons her rambunctiousness and retreats shyly behind Ivy’s legs.

“Hi there,” the woman coos at Zaia, crouching slightly. “You’ve got good taste in candy, I see.”

Ivy laughs, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. “She got too much taste, trust me. Sorry, we kinda a mess today.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. I’ve been there.” The woman extends her hand to Ivy, her smile widening. “I’m Gemini. Welcome to the neighborhood.” Her smile is bright, her tone warm and welcoming.

Ivy pauses, slightly taken aback. “How do you know that?”

Gemini giggles playfully, resting a hand on her hip. “Oh, I’ve got my ways. For one, I’m on the neighborhood watch, so I make it my business to know who’s coming and going. And, fun fact—one of the lawyers at my firm handled the paperwork for your house. When I saw the listing close, I figured I’d run into the new face eventually. Congratulations, by the way!”

Ivy’s lips part in surprise before curving into a tentative smile. “Thanks. And wow, you’re…thorough.”

Gemini laughs softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s the attorney in me. But it’s not as creepy as it sounds, I swear. We’re just a close-knit community, and I like to make sure newcomers feel welcome. Besides,” she adds with a light shrug, “your place is just a ten-minute drive from mine. So if you ever need anything—or even just someone to share a bottle of wine—I’m your girl.”

Reaching into the candy display, Gemini picks out a lollipop and hands it to Zaia. The little girl tugs at her mother’s hand, her big brown eyes fixed on the piece of candy. “Can I, Mama? Pwease?”

“Sure, baby. What do you say to the nice lady?” Ivy prompts.

“Thank you!” Zaia chirps, grabbing the treat.

Gemini chuckles. “She’s adorable. And you’re gonna love it here, Ivy. I can tell we’re gonna be friends.”

Ivy smiles, feeling a warmth she hadn’t expected. She’d been worried about starting over in a new place, but Gemini’s easy kindness makes her feel like she’s already found an anchor.

“Yeah,” Ivy says softly, glancing at Zaia, who is now happily unwrapping her lollipop. “I think we will.”

The cold concrete floor bit into Ivy’s skin as she shifted uncomfortably, her body stiffening from being tied up for so many hours. Every muscle ached, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish clawing at her chest. Her thoughts were consumed by Zaia. The thought of her sweet baby girl returning home from her friend’s house to find her own house empty, scared and alone, with no one to tell her where her mother was, brought tears to her eyes.

Those tears quickly spilled down her cheeks, hot and relentless, soaking into the coarse cloth gag Roman had forced over her mouth. She wanted to scream, to wail, to beg for someone—anyone—to help her, but the basement walls swallowed every sound. Roman had thought of everything. The thick, soundproof barriers cocooned her in suffocating silence, cutting her off from the world above.

She strained her ears, desperate for even the faintest noise—Roman’s footsteps, the creak of the basement door—but all she heard was an oppressive, deafening quiet. The stillness made her despair heavier, pressing down on her chest until she felt she might suffocate from it alone. She was utterly and completely alone.

But even the crushing silence wasn’t enough to drown out the image burned into her mind. Gemini’s lifeless body, her face barely recognizable, beaten so savagely that Ivy had to look twice to confirm it was her. It was a sight that would haunt her forever.

It wasn’t the first dead body Ivy had seen. Of course not. In her line of work, she’d dealt with death more times than she cared to remember. But this… This was Gemini. Her best friend. The one person who had always made her feel safe. And now, because of her, she was gone.

Gemini was probably coming to warn her. With all those documents and printouts, to show her proof. Gemini was the best lawyer this side of Hartford. Now all that promise and potential, snuffed out because of Ivy.

Because she hadn’t listened.

She was the reason Gemini was dead.

Ivy thought she was smart. She was a nurse. Years and years of studying medicine. She was a boss in her place of work, respected and admired. She’d always believed she could read people, that her instincts were sharp. So how she had let Roman bamboozle her for as long as he did, was beyond her. It didn’t sit right with her. It was as if he’d cast a spell, weaving his charm around her so tightly she hadn’t noticed the suffocating noose until it was too late. Now, every smile, every touch, every sweet word felt like a lie dipped in poison. She’d let her guard down, and it was about to cost her everything.

Angelo. Gemini. Maybe Zaia.

All of a sudden, the door flew open, and Ivy flinched. Roman descended the stairs, carrying a tray with food and water. He moved with an unnerving calm, as if he were tending to a guest rather than his prisoner. He crouched in front of her, his handsome face softened with what almost seemed like concern. 

“You have to eat,” he murmured, setting the tray down.

Ivy glared at him, her defiance blazing through the tears in her eyes. Roman’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes narrowing at her reaction, but he held his temper in check. Slowly, he reached for the cloth gag, his movements deliberate and calculated.

“This basement may be soundproof,” he said, his tone cold and edged with menace, “but if you so much as think about screaming, you won’t like the outcome.” His tone was quiet, almost calm, but the hand that brushed the hilt of the knife strapped to his side spoke volumes. It was a silent, chilling warning—a promise of what he was capable of.

“Do you understand me?” he asked, his eyes locking onto hers, daring her to test him.

Ivy’s eyes widened at his threat, and she nodded quickly, her fear eclipsing her defiance.  Roman studied her for a moment longer, then reached down and untied the cloth gag from her mouth. The cool air hit her damp, chapped lips, and she inhaled deeply, grateful for the freedom, however temporary it was.

Without a word, he moved behind her, loosening the bonds on her wrists. Her hands trembled as the blood flow returned, sharp tingles shooting up her arms. Roman grabbed the tray of food and pushed it towards her with deliberate care.

“Your favorite,” he said, his voice soft but unsettling, as if he was doing her a favor. “Garlic butter steak bites and mashed potatoes. I remember you saying it was your comfort meal.”

Her stomach growled in protest, but her appetite was dulled by fear and the knot of despair tightening in her chest. Reluctantly, she picked at the food, the familiar, mouthwatering smells of the southern dishes only deepening her sense of loss.

She hesitated, her voice small as she broke the heavy silence. “What...about Duchess?” she asked, daring to look up at him. Her insides churned with dread. "Is she..."

Roman’s face darkened slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “She’s fine,” he confirmed after a moment, his tone sharp with finality. “I took care of her injuries. She’s upstairs in a cage, sedated and muzzled.”

Ivy’s chest tightened, and she fought the tears that welled up again. Duchess was more than a dog; she was her family. “Please…don’t hurt her again,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Roman’s dark gaze bore into her, unblinking. “That depends on you, Ivy.”

Her mind raced, the next words leaving her throat before she could stop them. “Roman, please,” she begged, her voice cracking, “You have to let me go. Zaia—my baby needs me. She needs me and Duchess. She’s just a little girl! She doesn’t have anyone now—her daddy is gone, Gemini’s gone. She needs her mommy!”

Roman tilted his head, watching her intently. His lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I can bring her down here,” he offered, as though he were suggesting a reasonable solution. “I can go get her—”

“No!” Ivy screamed, her voice raw, pained. “Don’t you dare go near her! I swear, Roman, if you touch her—” She broke down again, and her chest heaved with the effort to hold back a full-blown breakdown. “I would rather die than let you near her!”

Roman’s expression darkened, and for a moment, Ivy thought she’d gone too far. His jaw clenched, and his gaze burned into her with an intensity that made her feel like prey. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “You’d rather die?” he echoed, his voice dangerously soft. “You think that’s what Zaia wants? To lose her mother too? Or would she rather have you safe here, with me?”

Ivy shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Safe?! This isn’t safe,” she choked out. “This is hell. You’re a monster!”

Roman sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed. “You still don’t understand,” he said, almost tenderly. “But you will.”

“You’re sick, Roman. You need help.”

Roman gazed at her, his expression sincere. “I only need you, baby girl. You make me want to be better, Ivy. Better than I ever was in my last life. I’ll never hurt you or Zaia. I love you.”

The mere sound of her baby’s name on his tongue made her physically ill. “You’re insane,” she spat, her tears streaming.

“No, I’m in love,” he corrected, his voice firm yet tender. “And I know you love me too.”

Ivy forced herself to stay still, stay calm, but inside, panic clawed at her chest. She didn’t see love in his eyes. She saw obsession. And she knew she had to find a way out before it was too late.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “You think killing people proves you love me?”

Roman tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing. “I told you. I didn’t do it for them, Ivy. I did it for us. Everything I’ve done is so we can be together, so no one can come between us.”

Ivy’s chest tightened as she stared at the man looming over her, his shadow stretching across the dim basement walls like a predator poised to strike. Her hands, bound and trembling, fidgeted against the ropes as she tried to keep her voice steady.

She drew in a shaky breath, her mind scrambling for any way to stall him, to appeal to whatever humanity he had left. “If you love me,” she began softly, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation, “you’ll let me go back to Zaia. Please, Roman. I’m all she has left. She needs me.”

For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his dark eyes—hesitation, maybe even a trace of guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a look so cold it sent a shiver down her spine.

Roman leaned in closer, his face unreadable, his words sharp and deliberate. “But I need you more.”

Ivy froze, her breath caught in her throat. His voice was calm, almost tender, but his expression was anything but. The chilling conviction in his gaze told her everything she needed to know; there would be no reasoning with him.

“You might be all she has left,” he continued, his lips twisting into a sinister smile, “but you’re mine, Ivy. You belong to me now, just like you promised.”

His words hung over her like a death sentence, a noose, strangling any hope she’d clung to. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse roaring in her ears. Roman didn’t just see her as someone to love—he saw her as something to own.

Instinctively, she backed up, her heel scraping against the edge of the trapdoor. Her stomach lurched at the thought of falling into the pit where Gemini’s broken, lifeless body had lain before Roman had dragged it out and literally folded her into that barrel.

Roman caught her tensed movement and frowned. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll protect you from everything. From everyone.”

“Even from you?” she shot back, her voice rising despite her fear.

His jaw tightened, and again, she was sure she’d crossed the line. But then he exhaled, stepping away as he ran a hand through his long, raven-black hair.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I thought you’d understand. You’re different, baby girl. You see the real me.”

Her stomach dropped as she realized he wasn’t just delusional—he was utterly convinced of his twisted logic.

“Do I?” she questioned, “I thought I did, thought I saw the real you. But I don’t. I don’t, Roman, because you weren’t honest with me. I won’t understand you if you don’t tell me the truth,” she said, her voice trembling. “Everyone has a story. So…so talk to me, Roman. Tell me yours. How did you get here? How did it start?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, the tension in the room shifted.

“You really want to know?” he asked cautiously.

His dark eyes pinned her in place, a predator watching his prey. She nodded, swallowing her revulsion. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” she asked softly, keeping her voice even. It was a dangerous game, but she needed to buy time, to unravel something—anything—that might help her. “The real you.”

Roman paused. His lips quirked upward in a bitter smile. “The real me?” he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“That name...Mateo Hobbs? Is that your real name?”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Ivy nodded cautiously, her heart hammering. “Okay. How did you end up here? Like this?”

He leaned back on his heels, dragging a hand through his long hair. His voice dropped, a low rumble that made the basement feel even smaller. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be like this. Life made me this way.”

She treaded lightly, sensing his tension. “What happened?”

Roman let out a bitter laugh, the sound dry and hollow, filled with the weight of memories he could never escape. His jaw clenched as he spoke, each word dripping with cold disdain. “My father? He wasn’t a man who loved. He was a man who demanded. Loyalty, obedience, power—those were the gods he worshipped. Oh, and money too. And he had billions of it in at least ten different currencies. He didn’t care about my mother though, at least not in the way husbands are supposed to. She was just another piece of his empire, another symbol of control. And when she slipped out of that control, when she took lovers behind his back, he made sure everyone paid the price.”

He paused, his eyes distant, as if he were staring at a scene only he could see. “There were two of them—her lovers. He found them both. He always found what he was looking for. And when he did, he had them dragged into the basement of our house. I was fifteen. He didn’t hide it from me; he wanted me to learn. He wanted me to understand what happens to people who betray the family.”

Roman’s voice turned colder, his words sharper, as if cutting through the air. “He oversaw everything. No detail was too small, no punishment too extreme. They screamed, begged, pleaded for mercy, but my father didn’t flinch. He just watched, stone-faced, as they were torn apart in front of him, piece by piece. And my mother?” He let out another hollow laugh. “She didn’t flinch either. She sat there in her chair, perfectly still, watching her fuck toys die like it was some kind of TV show. She didn't give a fuck about either of them.”

How Ivy kept the bile down her system should have been commended. 

Roman scoffed as he continued his spiel, his face twisted in disgust. “Her reaction taught me what women are capable of. Manipulation. Lies. Disrespect.” His tone darkened, the bitterness palpable. “She taught me that love isn't real. It’s nothing but a game, and everyone cheats in the end.”

Ivy shifted, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her mind raced. “And…your wife?” Her voice faltered, but she pushed on. “Was anything you told me about her true? Did she even exist?” The images flashed before her eyes—the photographs Roman had shown her months ago, displayed proudly in the foyer upstairs. He’d spoken of her with such reverence, his words painting a picture of love and devotion. But now, as she replayed those moments in her mind, something shifted. The woman in those photos—she looked strikingly similar to Ivy herself. A slow, creeping realization coiled in her chest, her body tensing with the unshakable feeling that she had been manipulated, trapped in a lie that had been spun so intricately she hadn’t even seen it until now.

Roman’s eyes darkened as he shifted his weight, leaning against the wall. His posture was deceptively calm, but the tension in his clenched fists and sharp jaw betrayed the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“She existed, yes,” he began, his voice low and measured, as though he were recounting a story from another lifetime. “But not in the way I told you. Elesha…she was the one who made me think it could all be different. That I didn’t have to see the world through the lens of betrayal and lies anymore.”

Ivy didn’t dare interrupt. She could see his jaw twitching, his mind running through memories too heavy to contain.

“When she came into my life, I'd become a cleaner,” he asked, though he didn’t wait for her response. “My father’s empire…his messes didn’t handle themselves. That was my contribution to the family. Did it for years and years and I was damn good at it. Made me millions and millions. Elesha made me think I could leave all that behind. That I could live a normal life. Have a family. That I could love and be loved, no matter what I’d done in the past.”

Ivy’s stomach churned. She could almost picture him, a younger, still handsome man with literal blood on his hands, trying to carve out something decent for himself. Something better.

It obviously didn't work.

“I walked away from everything for her,” Roman continued, his voice hardening. “The power, the connections—gone. Because I wanted to be enough for her. And for a while, I thought I was.”

He laughed bitterly, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “I stopped killing. I fought those urges for her. But it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough. She cheated on me, Ivy. With my own blood. Tama wasn’t just my cousin—he was part of the life I left behind. The life I sacrificed for her.” His voice broke off, the rage simmering beneath his words enough to send a chill down Ivy’s spine.

Roman’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer, his voice rising with each word, raw and laced with venom. “And you know the worst fucking part?” He turned his piercing gaze on Ivy, his eyes burning with fury, pinning her in place as if daring her to look away. “That bitch got pregnant. Not by me—by him! She knew I always wanted a family, and she did that to me! She had the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me she was leaving me to be with him. That I was the problem. That I was too erratic, too unstable. Can you believe that shit? After everything I fucking sacrificed for her!”

Ivy’s chest tightened, her breathing shallow as she tried to process his words. It was clear now that his story about his wife dying of liver disease was just that. A story. Her voice came out barely above a whisper as she asked, “What...what did you do?”

Roman’s eyes darkened, a glint of something unrecognizable flickering in their depths. Slowly, a cruel smile played on his lips, cold and devoid of any trace of humanity. He leaned in slightly, the room seeming to close in around them.

“I took care of them,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, each word dripping with sinister finality.

Ivy’s breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting her like a blow. She wanted to ask more, to press for details, but the way he stared at her, daring her to dig deeper, silenced her. Whatever he had done, the truth hung heavy between them, too horrifying to speak aloud.

She was startled when he crouched down in front of her again, his voice softening, almost tender. “When I first saw you, I was afraid you'd be like her. But you’re nothing like her, Ivy. You’re different.”

Ivy tensed. “Different?”

His eyes flickered with something almost vulnerable. “I watched you for days before we met. Watched the way you care for Zaia. The way you dealt with everything life threw at you, even Angelo. That punk bitch didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

Ivy’s heart raced as he continued, his voice dripping with conviction.

“I knew you and Zaia would be the perfect family. I could see it—how happy we’d be together. But Angelo? He was in the way. He was stressing you out, disrespecting you, holding you back. And I couldn’t let that happen anymore. I needed to protect you. Protect us.”

A sick realization dawned on her, her voice trembling as she forced herself to ask. “So…what? You followed him to that bar and took out his brakes? Is that what you did?”

Roman smiled, his expression serene yet chilling. “Mm-hmm. Genius, wasn't it? And now, baby, we’re one step closer to the life we’re supposed to have. Just the three of us—me, you, and Zaia. A real family.”

Terror coursed through her, a cold, unrelenting wave that threatened to drag her under, but she kept her expression neutral, her breaths shallow and measured. She prayed Roman couldn’t see the panic flashing behind her eyes like a beacon. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go—not yet. Roman’s obsession was far darker, far more consuming, than she had ever imagined. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was unstoppable.

Her voice trembled despite her efforts. “And G…Gemini?”

Roman’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk that made her stomach churn. “Gemini wasn’t supposed to die,” he said, his tone almost apologetic, though his words were anything but. “But she kept poking around, asking too many damn questions about Angelo… about me. She thought she was smarter than me, Ivy.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over her like a predator sizing up its prey. “I had to put surveillance on her so I could keep an eye on her. She was gonna go to the cops. I couldn’t let her ruin us.”

He tilted his head, studying her like she was a fragile, breakable thing. “She didn’t care about you, baby. Not the way I do.”

Ivy’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m glad she’s dead. It was fun stomping her face in. You should’ve seen it, Ivy. She didn’t stand a chance.” He grinned, his straight white teeth flashing in the dim light. “And you…” His hand reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek. “You’re free now. Free of her bitching and meddling.”

She flinched at his touch, her skin crawling as if his fingertips were laced with cyanide. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze, masking the disgust that roiled inside her.

“You think you freed me,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear. “But all you’ve done is make me a prisoner.”

His hand fell, his handsome features darkening as a shadow passed over his face. “Baby, don’t say that,” he murmured, the words more a command than a plea.

“I’m not your baby!” she screamed, her voice trembling as fear and rage bled through. Her hands shook at her sides, but she refused to back down. “You’re sick, Roman! This isn’t love. It’s control. Obsession! You need help—real help!”

Roman’s expression twisted, his face a battlefield of emotions. The muscles in his jaw tensed, his lips curling into a snarl. But there was something else behind the rage—hurt, maybe, or disbelief. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice low and sharp, slicing through the suffocating silence. “I love you, Ivy. I loved you the moment I saw you.”

Her heart raced, each beat pounding in her ears as she fought to keep her composure. She had to think fast, to say anything that might keep him from spiraling further. “If you really love me,” she said, her tone softening into a desperate plea, “then prove it. Let me go, Roman. Please.”

He froze for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing as if her words were some impossible riddle. Then he shot to his feet and began to pace, his hands clawing through his hair as incoherent mutters escaped his lips. His movements were erratic, unpredictable, and every step made Ivy’s pulse quicken. Her eyes darted toward the door. She didn't see him lock it. Could she make it? Could she outrun him?

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered at last, his voice trembling with something that might have been pain. He stopped pacing, turning to her, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something crack in his armor. His shoulders sagged, his expression almost human. Almost.

“You won't lose me,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. “Let me go, and we can figure this out together. I won’t tell anyone—about any of this. I swear, Roman. You said I make you want to be better. Let me help you.”

For a breathless second, Ivy thought she had reached him. His eyes softened, his posture slackening as if her words had begun to chip away at whatever dark force consumed him.

But then, just as quickly, his features hardened again, his face a cold mask of fury and distrust.

“You’re lying,” he said, his tone flat, devoid of any emotion.

Before she could react, he lunged at her. His hand closed around her arm with crushing force, yanking her toward him. She gasped, her eyes falling on the barely eaten plate of food where a steel spoon lay. It wasn’t a weapon, but it was something—anything.

She felt his grip falter for a split second as he reached for the ropes on the floor. Ivy seized the moment. Her hand shot out, grabbing the spoon, and with a feral cry, she jabbed it into his face. The dull edge scraped across his cheek, drawing blood.

Roman roared in pain, staggering back as his hands flew to his face. Ivy didn’t wait. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she bolted past him, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor. She dashed out the door and stumbled her way up to the top of the stairs, towards one more door that surely led to her freedom. Her breaths were panicked bursts, her fingers, slick with sweat and trembling with desperation, as they fumbled with the doorknob. Relief flooded her when the knob turned.

But before she could open it, an arm locked around her waist. Roman yanked her back with such force that the air was knocked from her lungs. He spun her around, his face inches from hers, twisted into a horrifying mask of blood and fury.

“You think you can leave me?” he snarled, his voice low and menacing. “You think you can run from me?”

His eyes burned with something primal, something unhinged. He carried her back down the stairs like a man possessed, her screams echoing uselessly off the walls. Ivy clawed at his arms, kicked at his legs, but it was like fighting against solid stone. It was then she understood what Gemini had suffered, the terror and pain she had endured in her final moments.

“Roman, please!” Ivy sobbed, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. “I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t hurt me!”

He didn’t respond, his silence more terrifying than words. Reaching the center of the room, he dropped her roughly onto the cold floor. She landed awkwardly, her knees scraping against the concrete. He loomed over her, his chest heaving as his shadow swallowed her whole. The tension in the dimly lit basement had reached a breaking point, the walls seeming to close in around Ivy as she faced the man who had turned her life into a living nightmare. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” he bellowed, his voice shaking the room. She flinched, curling into herself as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry, Roman—I was scared! Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

His expression darkened, anger melting into something far more sinister. His eyes softened, but there was no warmth in them—only the eerie calm of a predator circling its prey. Slowly, he crouched down, his looming presence suffocating. His hand reached out, brushing her tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that felt all the more terrifying.

“But you did,” he said, his voice soft now, dripping with false tenderness. “I told you, Ivy, I would never hurt you…unless you make me.”

His fingers trailed down her face, lingering too long, brushing over her trembling shoulder before creeping lower. Ivy’s stomach plummeted, dread clawing at her throat as his hand closed over her breast. Her body went rigid, her mind screaming in complete horror.

“Roman, don’t—” she pleaded, on the verge of more tears, but he silenced her with a disarming smile, one that made her skin crawl.

“You asked me to prove my love to you,” he whispered, his tone intimate, almost conspiratorial. “I should’ve killed you the second you tried to run, but I didn’t. That’s how much I love you, Ivy.”

The words sent ice flooding through her veins. Panic surged, an overwhelming tide of terror that left her breathless as the full realization of what was about to happen slammed into her like a freight train.

“Please,” she tried again. “Roman, you don’t have to do this—please don’t do this.”

Her words were met with silence. Instead, he pressed his lips against hers. The blood on his face smeared against her cheek, a twisted mockery of intimacy. Her hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain. It always was. His much larger body bore down on hers, smothering her attempts to fight back.

“No!” she cried, and again, she tried…to push him away, to twist out from under him, but he was too strong, his much bigger body crushing hers as he forced her down onto the cold, unforgiving floor.

“Roman, no! Please!” she pleaded, her voice breaking, but he didn’t stop. He pinned her arms above her head, his weight suffocating, immobilizing her completely.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice a guttural snarl. “You belong to me, Ivy. Forever. You promised me. You promised me!”

He managed to pull down her leggings, forcibly yanking them down her legs. Her panties followed next. By the time he pushed his pants low enough to set himself free, Ivy was in tears of hysteria.

“Roman, stop! Stop it!” she begged desperately. She thrashed beneath him, tears streaming down her face. “Roman, stop! Please stop!” she begged, her voice breaking from sheer terror.

But he cut her off with another brutal, tasteless kiss, his lips crushing hers with a force that made her feel more trapped than ever. When he pulled back, his eyes burned with a dangerous mix of rage and control, and he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear.

“Baby, I need you to relax,” he commanded, his voice deadly calm, each word slicing into her like a blade. “I can’t be with you like this. Stop fighting me and relax. Now.”

Her body shook violently, every instinct screaming at her to keep fighting, to resist. But the cold realization hit her like a freight train—no matter how he tried to convince her, he would kill her if she didn’t obey, just like he killed Gemini and Angelo. The thought left her breathless, her terror paralyzing.

Slowly, painfully, she forced herself to go still. Her muscles ached from the tension, her hands trembling as she surrendered to the inevitable. A sob escaped her lips, and she clenched her teeth to keep the rest from spilling out.

“There we go,” Roman cooed, his tone unnervingly tender, as though this twisted moment was some sort of victory for him. “That’s my good girl.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against her tear-streaked cheeks, the press of his mouth disturbingly soft. He kissed her tears, one by one, as though offering some grotesque semblance of comfort. Ivy’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

The tears couldn't stop falling as he pushed himself inside her, his movements relentless and unyielding. Her anguished sobs pierced the oppressive silence of the basement, mingling with the horrifying sounds of his pleasure and her desecration.

Detective Cody Rhodes was hunched over his desk, the desk lamp casting harsh shadows over the files and photos scattered before him. The walls of his office were a collage of red strings and pinned notes, a chaotic shrine to the case that had consumed him for over a year. 

Mateo Hobbs. 

The name was etched into his thoughts with a branding iron, a relentless drumbeat that followed him everywhere. No leads, no sightings. Just a trail of devastation that had gone cold far too many times.

With his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, he perused the thick manila folder marked Mateo Hobbs—Fugitive. The case had grown cold since Hobbs escaped his custody and vanished into thin air, but Rhodes wasn’t letting it go. He couldn’t. Not after all the effort he had put so far into searching for him. Not after the atrocities the man had committed. Mateo Hobbs’s actions spoke louder than anything Rhodes could ignore. 

Cody flipped the pages, his sharp blue eyes scanning the psychological evaluations and criminal reports as though doing so for the first time. The man was a ghost who left nothing behind but devastation—a trail of dead lovers, shattered families, and unanswered questions.

The first file was Elesha Hobbs. Mateo’s pregnant wife. Cody’s sharp jawline clenched as he reread the details of her death. Thirty stab wounds in total. Sixteen to the abdomen. Overkill. Her boyfriend got it worse—the other victim, Tama Tonga. Mateo’s own cousin and the alleged father of Elesha's unborn baby. Stabbed multiple times in his groin area. Castrated. A double murder as personal as it was brutal. The rage in the killings was palpable, a bloodthirsty man out for revenge.

There was another case, this time from fifteen years ago, in the heart of Atlanta—one that had long been buried under the weight of time and flawed conclusions. Antonia Arnold, a bright and ambitious student at Georgia Tech, had been Mateo’s college girlfriend. Her death was ruled a suicide back then, a tragic story of a young woman found hanging from the ceiling of her dorm room. But new evidence, unearthed after years of silence, told a far more sinister tale.

The bruising around her neck did not match the marks left by the rope that had supposedly ended her life. The pattern of those bruises revealed something far more violent—a struggle, a pair of hands that had pressed down hard enough to steal her final breath.

The case unraveled further when a close friend of Antonia’s came forward with damning testimony. Just days before her death, Antonia and Mateo had an argument loud enough for half the dormitory to hear. The source of their fight was scandalous: Mateo had found Antonia's profile on an escort service website, all while having an affair with their married psychology professor, Dr. Lashley.

To his chagrin, Dr. Lashley himself became a key witness in the reopened investigation. Pleading for anonymity he never got, he spoke of Mateo’s volatile nature, describing him as “unpredictable, like a bomb waiting to go off.” The professor admitted he feared Mateo’s temper but never imagined he would cross such a line.

Yet it was that very temper, that unrelenting fury, that betrayed him. In his rage, Mateo had left behind subtle, incriminating traces at the scene—fingerprints smudged on the underside of a chair used to stage the hanging, tiny fibers of his clothing clinging to Antonia’s body, and, most damning of all, scratches on his forearms that matched the pattern of her nails. 

Antonia Arnold hadn’t taken her own life. She had fought like hell for it, in those final moments against the man she once trusted. And now, after years of silence, the truth was clawing its way into the light, casting a new, unforgiving shadow over Mateo’s past. 

Of course, Mateo had not stuck around for more questioning, disappearing from campus without a trace as the authorities began to close in on him.

It wasn’t just the murders; it was the man’s past that fascinated—and terrified—Rhodes. Mateo Hobbs grew up in the weighty shadow of the Samoan Sons, a powerful, California-based crime family led by his father and uncle. From an early age, Mateo was groomed as an assassin, tasked with erasing the messes his father’s empire left behind. By all accounts, he was brutally efficient, ruthless, but eventually, his psychological issues forced him out of the family. He was the perfect predator until he became...too perfect, leaving more bodies in his wake in the most extreme and brutal of fashions.

The psychiatric evaluation Mateo underwent before being ousted from the mafia was another vital piece of information. Cody had read it a thousand times and the words didn’t get less chilling:

“Subject exhibits clear signs of borderline personality disorder. Emotional instability and an intense fear of betrayal dominate his psyche, often resulting in extreme acts of violence. He forms deeply dependent relationships but is prone to lashing out if he perceives disloyalty.”

There was more. Antisocial personality traits, an ability to compartmentalize guilt, and a narcissistic streak that allowed Mateo to justify his actions as necessary for his own survival or vengeance. The report was damning but also revealing. Cody could almost hear Mateo’s voice through the words in the document, justifying every brutal act as if he were a victim of circumstance, as if loyalty and love were owed to him at all costs.

Loyalty and love that were never afforded him growing up.

Cody flipped to the final assessment. Psychopathy. Mateo had learned how to mimic charm, how to love and manipulate in equal measure. But underneath it all, there was no remorse, no capacity for empathy—just a cold, calculating need to maintain control, no matter who he hurt.

The file on his exit from the mafia revealed a man who had become too unstable even for a criminal empire. Paranoia. Compulsive lies. Delusions of grandeur. Violent outbursts. Mateo’s father and uncle had tried to cover it all up, but the Samoan Sons couldn’t afford to keep a ticking time bomb in their ranks. Thus, Mateo was cast out, and that rejection seemed to be the final crack in his already fractured psyche.

Mateo Hobbs wasn’t just a killer. He was a product of his environment—a powder keg built by betrayal, violence, and psychological disorder. 

It didn't get any more dangerous than that.

Cody leaned back in his chair, staring at the mugshot clipped to the folder. Mateo’s dark eyes stared back at him, calm and piercing, the kind of gaze that sent a chill down Cody’s spine. He wasn’t just hunting a murderer. He was hunting a man who had become a monster long before he ever took a life.

The door to his office burst open, and Lieutenant Jade Cargill strode in, her energy electric and urgent. Jade was the kind of leader who commanded attention the moment she stepped into a room—tall, muscled, physically and mentally, and always immaculately put together. She had been with Cody in the trenches on the Hobbs case from the beginning, though her involvement had slowed as she juggled overseeing the precinct and tackling other high-profile cases. Still, Cody knew she never stopped keeping tabs on it, even if she had to step back. Right now, it was clear she had something big.

“Rhodes,” Jade said, her voice sharp, her dark eyes gleaming with something Cody hadn’t seen in months: hope. “I think we’ve got something.”

Cody’s head snapped up, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He leaned back in his chair, gesturing for her to continue. “Don’t tease me, Cargill. What’chu got?”

She slammed a folder onto his desk, the faint scent of coffee and cigarettes trailing her as she pulled a chair over. “Remember my old academy buddy, Phil Brooks? He’s a P.I. now, residing in Fairfield, Connecticut. He called me last night about two cold cases from a couple of months ago—one body found in Fairfield, the other in a nearby county called Middlesex. Both women. Both murdered in ways that sound a hell of a lot like our guy. Stalked, isolated, methodical.”

Cody sat up straighter, his pulse quickening. “Details?”

Jade opened the folder, pulling out grainy crime scene photos. “Fairfield victim: strangled, dumped in an alley. Middlesex victim: same M.O., but this one was left in her own apartment. No sign of forced entry—he knew her well enough to get in clean. Sound familiar?”

“It always does,” Cody muttered, his jaw tightening. 

“But wait, there’s more.”

Shit. “What else?”

Jade flipped to another page, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. “There’s this girl. Rhea. Found in some neighborhood in Hartford. Her throat slit and dumped in a ditch. She was pregnant.”

Cody’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”

Jade flipped another page and pointed at the picture of Bianca Belair. “This one’s been missing for two weeks. Same neighborhood. Brooks sent me a report of a neighbor who swears they saw Bianca arguing with a man matching Hobbs’ description the night she disappeared. Both Rhea and Bianca were escorts.”

Cody’s blood ran cold. “You think Hobbs is up there?”

“I know he’s up there,” Jade said, her voice filled with conviction. “Brooks also sent me this.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a crisp photo ID. It was a Connecticut driver’s license. 

Cody froze as he saw the name: Roman Reigns. But the photo…it was unmistakable.

Holy shit.

“It’s him,” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat. “It’s Hobbs.”

Jade nodded, her excitement tempered by the gravity of what they’d just discovered. “We finally have a lead, Rhodes. A real, tangible lead. It’s the first time in over a year we’ve been this close. If we can get over there on time and find him, we might have a shot at finding this Bianca girl and stopping him.”

Cody’s mind raced, connecting dots and mapping out the next steps. He looked up at Cargill, his eyes filled with determination. “We gotta go now then. If he’s already killed this many, he’s not gonna stop. He’s in the middle of a fucking spree.”

Jade gave him a tight nod. “I’ll reach out to Brooks, see if he can get this case in the hands of Hartford PD,” she said. “Pack your bags, Detective. We’re heading to Connecticut.”

As he stood, Cody Rhodes felt the first spark of hope he’d had in over a year. They had a name. A new name, but a name regardless. They had a location. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they had a chance to finally catch Mateo Hobbs before he disappeared again.

Whew.

Fun fact: Elesha is Marian (harmshake)’s middle name and Antonia is my middle name 🤣 We said, ain't no way we’re not putting ourselves in this somehow, we worked too hard on this story.

Your comments and reblogs are so much appreciated! Please keep your Asks coming, we’re loving all the theories!

Please remember that this is FICTION and nothing more. Thank you so much for understanding!

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[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.

[hockeyluvrr]

Lover || nh13

MASTERLIST

word count : 2,795

summary : snapshots throughout your relationship with nico (based on the song Lover by Taylor Swift)

gif isn’t mine!

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

It was cold, quiet evening in New Jersey, and Nico was sitting by the fireplace with you. Both of you were cuddled up in a soft fuzzy blanket, a comfortable silence surrounding you. Christmas had come and gone, but the tree still stood proudly in the corner of the living room. You both knew that you should probably take all the decorations down and pack them away, but neither of you wanted to. The soft glow provided by the lights filled the room in such a warm way made it feel almost impossible to want to take them down.

“Are we leaving the lights up ’til January?” Nico questioned with a soft smile.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Until January?” You teased gently. “It’s already January 10th, baby.”

“Alright, February then?” Nico laughed softly, pulling you closer.

“Sure. I mean, our place our rules right?” You hum softly.

Nico just nods in response as you lay your head on his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of Nico next to you, his cologne wafting towards you slightly. You tilt your head up slightly to look at him, a small smile of your face when you find that his eyes are already on you.

“You’re giving me that look again.” You point out.

“What look?”

“The look where you’re trying to figure out if you’ve known me for twenty seconds or twenty years,” you tease softly.

Nico smiled softly as he moved his hand to run through your hair softly. “I still can’t figure it out,” I muttered softly. “But, I will gladly spend the next twenty years trying to.”

You smile softly as you feel your heart skip a beat, his sincere tone and words catching you off guard slightly. Nico had such a special way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. You hum softly as you cuddle closer to him, the glow of the lights combined with the sound of the fireplace crackling creating a cozy atmosphere.

“You know,” you speak softly. “If leaving the lights up means that we get more nights like this then I say we leave them up forever.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Nico smiled. He leans in and kisses you softly, time seemingly slowing down as the kiss is unhurried and full of love. There was no sense of rush as the world outside your apartment blurred into insignificance. He slowly pulls away, only to rest his forehead against yours for a moment. He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you into his chest.

You both sat there in comfortable silence, in your own little bubble, watching the fireplace. It didn’t matter that it was January, the both of you decided that the holidays could last just that little bit longer.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover

You and Nico strolled down the empty, moonlit streets of Newark after a night out with his teammates. The team had beat the Rangers and so the celebration was bound to be loud, fun and filled with laughter, along with lots of drinks. The both of you had probably had one too many drinks but you couldn’t find it within you to care, not when you were both walking home slowly, hand in hand. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional passing car, the hum of the city and your heels clicking softly on the pavement.

“Did you have fun tonight?” You ask softly with a warm smile.

“Yeah,” Nico replied, eyes twinkling slightly. “But, this…this is the best part.”

Your heart fluttered at his soft, almost vulnerable voice. You leaned into his side more as you both stopped walking for a moment, the slightest bit tipsy but not caring as you listened to Nico’s steady heartbeat. “We should head home,” you muttered softly as you hugged Nico around the waist.

“Yeah…” He sighed softly before smiling. “How about one more dance?”

You laughed but let him spin you around softly anyway. The both of you swayed side to side on the pavement, lost in your own little world. It was just you, Nico and a love that the both of you were sure would never fade. “Can we always be this close, forever?” Nico mumbled softly into your hair.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Hischier,” you tease, you thumb grazing softly over the knuckles of his hand that held your own.

Nico grinned slightly at your words. “Good,” he spoke playfully. “Because I’m not sure what I would do if I couldn’t take you home with me.”

Your laugh softly, the sound echoing slightly off the empty street as you both start to walk home again. “You’re cheesy, you know that?” You say with a warm, adoring gaze.

“Only for you,” Nico muttered as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, we’re almost home.”

You both quickly make it into the apartment, and once you were both inside, Nico kicked off his shoes and unbuckled your heels before standing up again and dragging you towards the bedroom. You both sank into the bed, still fully dressed but not finding it within you to care. Nico pulled the cover up over you both and hummed softly when you settled into his side, you head on his chest.

“Forever and ever?” You mumble softly, your voice sleepy as you trace random, lazy patterns on his shirt.

“Forever and ever, baby.” Nico muttered, pressing a soft kiss on your head.

You drifted off soon after he spoke and in that moment, Nico knew he didn’t need much more than this. This was everything he could’ve ever dreamed of. It was simple, it was easy, it was everything.

We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call

The living room was a mess. There were pillows scattered on the floor, snack bowls half-empty on the coffee table, and a stack of board games next to the couch. A grin spread across Nico’s face as he looked around the living room. It was a Friday night, and your apartment had turned into a lively hub for the night for some of his teammates. Jack was sprawled on the couch, texting on his phone, while Luke and Dawson were bickering with Timo and Jesper over which game they should all play next.

You were in the kitchen grabbing more drinks, your laughter mixing with the upbeat music playing quietly from the speaker. You caught Nico’s eye and smiled. This was exactly what everyone needed. The past week had been a whirlwind of practices, travel and games. But, tonight everyone was home.

“I’m not letting anyone drive home tonight after the way Timo’s been losing at charades.” Nico joked.

Timo sent him a playful glare before Jack looked up from his phone and chimed in, “I’m in. But I’m picking the next game. Monopoly, prepare to lose guys.”

The group groaned, knowing how competitive Jack got while playing monopoly. At the same time, you returned with a few beers. You placed them down before plopping down next to Nico. “You think you’re so slick, huh?” You tease as you lightly nudge him. “Offering up our living room as a crash pad for the guys?”

“What? I like having everyone here,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Besides, you and I both know they would’ve ended up staying the night anyway.”

You just rolled your eyes fondly before leaning into Nico’s side, watching as Jesper set up the Monopoly board, dramatically explaining the rules as if no one had played before. It felt like one of those moments that you could just bottle up and cherish forever. It was rare to find these moments in the busy hockey season, making this moment even more special.

Hours later, when the games were eventually put away, the group began to settle down for the night. Jack had already claimed the couch, leaving Luke, Timo and Jesper to use the floor as their makeshift beds for the night. Nico cleaned up quietly as you scrolled through the photos you had taken throughout the night.

“If Jack ever argues that he doesn’t get competitive playing Monopoly, I have proof otherwise,” you mutter quietly as you show Nico a picture of Jack mid-yell at Luke while he hoards his fake Monopoly money. Nico chuckles softly at the picture as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

“Also, we’re gonna need more snacks next game night. And maybe some extra blankets,” you hum softly.

“Sounds like a plan, baby,” Nico mutters softly, his fingers brushing through your hair.

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Nico was used to attention, it was something that came with being the captain of the Devils. Nico always managed to fit right in, being effortlessly confident and charming. Tonight was a Devils event, a gala where fans and influencers and important people mingled with the players. In turn, Nico found himself talking to person after person.

Across the room, standing next to Jesper’s fiancée Nicole, you were trying your best to keep your insecurities under control. You’d been doing well, mingling and joining conversations, but you were unable to stop yourself from glancing over at Nico. He was talking with a beautiful girl, her hand resting on his arm as she laughed at whatever he was saying. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust him. You did, completely. But, it doesn’t mean that you like it.

Eventually, you decided you’d had enough of your overthinking and walked over, hoping you could slip in and steal him away from the woman without causing a scene. Nico spotted you approaching him and his eyes lit up. You watched as he seemingly said goodbye to the woman before making his way towards you, a boyish grin on his face.

“Hey, baby,” Nico spoke softly when he reached you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” You answered, your smile a little tight. “Thought I’d come and check on you. You seem like Mr. Popular tonight.”

“Popular, huh?” Nico grinned. He knew exactly what you were trying to indicate to him. “You’re not jealous are you, baby?”

“Of course not,” you scoff lightly, very obviously lying through your teeth.

“You know you’re the only one I’m interested in, right?” Nico said softly, his hands squeezing your hips slightly as he pulled you closer.

“I know,” you mutter, feeling a little silly now. His gentle reassurance did make the tightness in your chest ease slightly. “I just…I feel like sometimes everyone wants you. And I guess it makes me…a bit paranoid.”

“I get it, baby. But, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re my girlfriend and I’ve loved you for three summers now and I’m definitely sticking around for the rest of them. No one other than you is on my radar, baby. I promise,” Nico reassures you softly, his hands gently massaging your hips as he speaks.

You’re caught off guard as he says all the words you needed to hear. You blink a few times before speaking again, “You mean that?”

“Every word, sweetheart,” he replied. “You think I’d wanna be here with anyone but you? No chance,” he finishes, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your temple. “You know, it’s kind of cute when you get jealous,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up,” you mutter as you fool your eyes with a smile.

“I’m flattered you think I’m such a catch, baby,” Nico chuckled softly. “But, there’s no need to worry. Nobody else compares to you and I’m not going anywhere…okay?”

The sincerity in his voice practically made your worries melt away. “Okay,” you whisper softly. “But, if that woman touches your arm again, I might have to claim what’s mine,” you joke slightly.

“You can claim me whenever you want, baby,” Nico muttered with a smile as he gives you a kiss.

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

The day you’d both been waiting for had finally arrived. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly over the rustic countryside venue in Switzerland. There was a soft breeze that rustled through the leaves, giving Nico a bit of relief as he nervously fidgeted at the altar. Even though his hand movements gave away his nervousness, the slight smile on his lips revealed the excitement and love he was feeling. In his pocket, he could feel the crumpled piece of paper in his jacket pocket, a note he’d kept with him since you’d said yes to his proposal. He didn’t need to read it, he already knew the words by heart. But, for Nico, just knowing that it was there helped ground him slightly.

The entrance music suddenly started and all of the guests turned to watch as you walked down the aisle. Nico felt his breath catch as he saw you. The flowing ivory gown you were wearing hugged you perfectly as the veil framed your face beautifully. He could just about see the wide smile on your face that he was sure mirrored his own. Nico had seen you thousands of times before but today was different…today you were everything.

When you reached him, he could clearly see the love sparkling in your eyes. It made his heart ache, in the best way possible. Nico reached out and took your hands in his, shaking slightly as he did. “You look so beautiful,” he whispered out, tearing up slightly.

You smile softly at his words and reach up to wipe away the single tear that fell. “And you look handsome.”

The officiant smiled and started the ceremony. Soon enough it was time for you both to say your vows. Nico went first, his voice soft but steady as he spoke to you, “I’ve been through many moments in my life, on and off the ice, that left me scarred and bruised. But, each and every single one of those moments lead me here, to right now, to you. You are my rock, my calm after the storm. And I promise you, from this moment on, I will always be your rock, your safe place. I promise that I will always love you as fiercely as I can, no matter what. Because, even though I have had many victories in my life…I can guarantee that you have and always will be my greatest victory.”

You take a deep breath as you hold back your emotional tears before you speak softly, “Nico, I knew from the very first moment that I met you that you were my forever. From that moment, I was determined to make you mine. And I somehow managed it. When I think about what I want for our life together, all that I want is to be an absolute refuge for you. I want you to feel so unconditionally and irrevocably loved by me. I promise that for as long as I am with you that I will never make you feel like you aren’t enough for me, because to me you are my everything…my whole world. I love you, and I will love you forever.”

There was a gentle murmur from your guests, a few sniffles here and there as the officiant spoke the final words of the ceremony. Both of you barely registered them, too caught up in taking each other in. As soon as the words, “You may now kiss the bride,” were spoken, Nico immediately closed the distance between you and kissed you softly and sweetly.

As you pulled away, the cheering crowd came back into focus for you both as the music started again. You both turned hand in hand as you walked back down the aisle, your hearts full. You both leaned into each other as you walked together, basking in the moment. And as you both disappeared down the aisle, the sun dipped in the sky, casting a golden, warm glow over the moment…a glow just as bright and warm as the love the two of you would share until the very end.

[pocketsizedq]

I will be okay Honey

Request can you do one with jack wife's being pregnant and has been getting really bad morning sickness lately but jack has to leave for a roadie

Warning (s) mentions of throwing up

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Jack started to pack a bag for the roadie he was about to have to go on for a game that wasn't at the Prudential Center and was nearly two hours from your guys new brunswick cottage home.

Jack decided on living in new brunswick instead of newark as he felt it was safe for you and him, but that meant he would always have to leave early to get to even a home game.

Jack started to regret his decision on living farther from newark. You had been just diagnosed with a rare severe type of morning sickness called Hyperemesis Gravidarum.

He now didn't want to leave you alone knowing this now as he has seen what it has been doing to you, but he knew that you would be mad at him if he stayed with you.

Jack made his way back into the bedroom from the walk in closet seeing you all pale in the face with dark rings around your eyes but you still had a soft small on your face.

He made his way over to the bed where you sat trying to hide the worry in his face knowing it would only hurt you more. Jack didn't like to see you like this.

He felt his heart rip to pieces every time he would hear you get sick in the middle of the night or mid day.

Jack started to rub your back gently leaning down to kiss your forehead to which you close your eyes taking a deep breath in leaning against him.

You throughout your pregnancy have just been continuously throwing up and just haven’t been able to keep anything down but you knew that in the end you and Jack would have a beautiful baby girl so that’s what kept you going.

Jack has been your rock through it all even with him being gone most of the time he still tries his best to be by your side constantly checking up on you when he’s at practice when he’s not. Luke probably even checking up on you.

“Will you be okay with me not being here” Jack spoke softly rubbing your back looking down at you.

You nod saying tiredly “probably be sleeping most of the time or watching you be a star on the the tv”

Jack softly chuckled continuously rubbing your back then moves his hand to check his watch to see what time it was and he lets out a soft sigh.

“I gotta get going honey but I will be home tomorrow. My mom is downstairs she’s here to stay with you while I’m gone to make sure nothing bad happens while I’m gone”

Jack kisses your lips grabbing his bags going downstairs where the queen herself was just looking through some of the boxes you and Jack had gotten around to putting up do to you being pregnant and everything.

“Mom you know you don’t have to do that right? I can do that when I get back? And thank you again for flying in to keep an eye on y/n I’m just so worry about her and the baby ” Jack spoke to his Mom to which she just pulled him into a hug.

“Just because your grown doesn’t mean I stop taking care of you and she’s family now sweetie I know your worried about her but she’s a strong girl and that baby has a lot of fight in her you being her’s father” Ellen spoke to her second oldest son holding him close to her.

“Now go beat the crap out of the rangers” his mom jokes to him wiping his tears as she pats his back as he walks out the door to his car.

[jackethockey]

No shame

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

Warnings: smut, sex, cursing, begging

Word count: 3241

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[itsjusthockey]

All I Want For Christmas pt.2 - Jack Hughes

Better late than never. Enjoy

Please comment and react, I live and breath by that shit

Also request

Love you all and thanks for being patient and I hope it was worth the wait! ♥️

w.c 2,366 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

It’s late on the 31st of December when you exit the Newark airport, expecting your boyfriend to be impatiently waiting, but it’s his brother nonchalantly leaning against the wall of the terminal exit instead.

“Lukey?” You call out as you get within earshot of him.

His head snaps up at his nickname, and his usual awkward but sincere smile crosses his features. He’s quick to put his phone in his pocket and close the gap between you two, giving you a quick hug, and he lifts you slightly off the ground. Then he grabs the suitcase and trails it behind you.

“Sorry I’m not Jack, last minute he asked if I’d come instead because he wanted to pick up some “things” for tonight.” He puts up his hands in quotation marks for the last bit.

You hum. “What things?”

Luke shrugs his shoulders, beginning to walk away, trusting you’ll follow him.

“Not sure, but he said he didn’t trust me to grab them, so I got girlfriend duty instead.”

You smile at the term and follow him through waves of people until you arrive at Jack Ranger Rover, which makes you quirk up an eyebrow at him.

“Why do you have Jack's rig?”

Luke gives you a deadpan look. “I’m picking up his girlfriend, and you think I’m going to use my car?”

You shake your head, but a smile breaks across both of your faces as you climb into the passenger seat of the familiar vehicle. It’s pretty clean and has the familiar scent of Jack, which comforts you more than it probably should. Once you’re settled in, Luke speeds away from the airport and beelines to the nearest coffee shop, explaining that it’s going to be a long night ahead and you both need the extra energy to survive. You couldn’t possibly agree more, and just five minutes later, you’re sipping an iced caramel latte and devouring a strawberry cake pop in almost two bites.

The ride to the shared apartment isn’t long, and once again, you’re expecting your boyfriend to be waiting there, but again, he’s nowhere to be found. You finally check your phone and see a message from the missing man.

b back soon, want food??

You text back a simple yes because he knows what you like, and the cake pop you’d just eaten was nearly as filling as you’d hoped. You also send another text saying to get food for Luke, too, to which Jack thumbs down the text, but you know he gets the message.

You and Luke settle into the couch and barely go through an episode of Love Island when another buzz makes you grab your phone from the edge of the sofa.

Send Luke down pls

You roll your eyes and stand up from the couch, pushing off the comfortable blanket keeping you warm.

“Was that Jack?”

You nod, slipping on a pair of slides by the door. “He needs help.”

Just as you begin to open the handle, Luke shouts from the couch.

“Wait,” he moves quickly to you, pushing you slightly back toward the living room. “I got it, go sit.”

You narrow your eyes at Luke, and he offers a tight-lipped smile and points to the couch. You stand firm for a second, more confused than anything, but after a moment, you really don’t care to know, so you walk back to the couch and plop back down. When the door clicks shut behind Luke, you get comfortable again and wait for them to come back up.

They do a few minutes later, and as soon as Jack steps through the door, he all but drops every item in his hand, and they crash to the floor, which has you cringing a bit as you stand to your feet. He meets you halfway, pulling you into a bone-breaking hug and settling himself in the notch in your neck.

“Hi, baby.” His voice sends vibrations through your spine, and you gently pull away from him, placing a small peck on his lips.

“Hi, J.”

Luke follows a second later, carrying just as many bags as Jack, which he places gently on the floor.

“What’s all this?” You ask, peering to look inside the bag closest to you.

“Did you forget it’s New Year?” Jack asks, pulling out a pair of 2025 sunglasses, placing them on his face, and looking at you expectantly.

A bubble of laughter escapes you, and you can’t help but think those glasses make him look like such a loser, but one hundred percent of the time, he's your loser.

“So we’re having a party?”

He finishes pulling out an array of madness. There are festive hats, confetti poppers, and your favorite candies, snacks, and drinks. Even further, Jack pulls out a bottle of champagne. “Of sorts, yes.”

Once the supplies are entirely laid out, Jack scoffs, looking around in the mess on the floor until he spots what he’s searching for.

“Almost forgot,” He hands over a takeout box of your favorite chain restaurant. “bon appétit.”

You and Luke thank him for the meal and tear into the food. Once in a while, you share a few bites here and there with Jack as he loads the drinks into the fridge and starts setting up his decorations. You inhale your food as fast as you can, eager to join him in the prep, and moments later, you’re helping him hang streamers and a New Year’s banner.

When the apartment living room is finally decked to the proper festive nature, you’re both satisfied with your work. Time flew faster than the three of you thought, and the clock on the kitchen stove reads 10:53 pm.

“Good work, fellas, not long now.”

Jack hums in agreement, comes close, and slings his arms around your shoulders, admiring your good work.

“It’s good, perfect now.”

You’re ready to dig into some goodies, but not before Luke pipes up.

“I’m gonna head out.”

Your smile drops, and you shake your head. “Absolutely not, Lukey. We want you here. Please stay.”

He gives you a small smile but shakes his head anyway. “I appreciate that you do, but I honestly made plans to go out with a few friends. I promise Jack didn’t bribe me to leave.”

You’re not sure if you believe him, but you also like to think you can tell when he’s lying and you’re not seeing any of his usual tells.

“You promise?”

Luke holds out his pinky toward you, which you latch with your own, and that’s enough for you.

He disappears down the hall toward his room for a minute and returns with a jacket, seemingly ready to bid you a good evening. He grabs his keys, steals a few cookies and a drink for the road, and throws one last goodbye as he heads out the door.

“See you both next year.”

The joke is corny, but you snort anyway as the door clicks shut, and Luke goes away to have his own New Year’s Eve. He’s not gone more than thirty seconds before Jack invades your personal space, getting so close your noses are almost touching.

“Did I tell you how much I missed you?”

You shake your head. “Only a million and four times.”

He laughs, pulls you onto the couch, and squeezes your sides hard.

“Then let me make it a million and five,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You giggle into him, lying down fully until you’re almost morphing into one being. You both shift a little to get the most comfortable and once you are done, he gently traces your arms as your heartbeats settle into one.

“I am so fucking thankful we made this week work. I was gonna lose my mind if I had to wait any longer.”

You hum in agreement. “You’re telling me? You have fun hockey keeping you busy. I’ve just had hell.”

Jack snorts but teases. “If only you weren’t so smart, baby.”

You stay that way for a while, talking aimlessly about your finals and how his practices and games are going, and pretty soon, you check your phone, noting it’s less than ten minutes away from midnight.

“Almost midnight.” You face your phone toward Jack.

He smiles gently and taps at your screen. “Nice screensaver.”

It’s a picture of you and him after one of the Hughes bowls, where you’re smiling brightly with Jack's arms wrapped tightly around your frame. It’s one of the thousands you took that night, but it’s your favorite. You look happy, truly happy, being in his arms.

You pull yourself from Jack's hold and grab hold of his hand, pulling him from the couch and toward the kitchen. You beeline to the fridge, grabbing out the chilled champagne bottle and two glasses from the rack that you’d picked out months ago. You hang the bottle to Jack, not trusting yourself to open it, and he even lets you take a video of him popping the cork.

With the bottle open, he hands it back, and you pour out two glasses. The bubbles almost spill over, but they settle back down into the sparkling liquid.

“Two minutes.” You say as you set the bottle down. “Any last thoughts of 2024?”

Jack takes a beat, then nods.

“It was a long year, but I’m just grateful. Grateful for my family, hockey, life, and health in general, and most of all, you.”

He kisses the back of your hand, and your eyes water just a bit. What he says is gross, sappy, and definitely corny, but you love every word.

“Me too, J.”

The clock on the stove reads midnight, and suddenly, a wave of emotion crashes through your heart. You did it, made it through another year, and you’re so fucking incredibly proud of the life you’ve created for yourself and the people you’ve surrounded yourself with. Even though it’s tough, you push through, and moments like this make it all worth it.

“Happy New Year, (Y/N)”

Jack's hand gently cups your cheek, and you meet his eyes, the softness of the moment spreading. With a quiet smile, he leans in, his lips brushing yours, light and warm, like a promise of the past year and many years to come.

“I’m so in love with you.” You admit, pulling away just enough to touch your forehead with his.

A blush creeps onto his face, and he pulls you in, but not before you remember something very important and jump from his hold.

“Wait, we have to do presents.”

Jack looks a bit bewildered at your state, but then he chuckles.

“We can wait until tomorrow.” He makes grabby hands toward you again.

“No, please, let’s do it now.”

He raises an eyebrow at you but brushes it off as he lets out an okay, getting up and moving to get your present. You follow him toward the bedroom, grabbing your suitcase and pulling out the gift you meticulously wrapped.

You watch Jack shuffle through his closet, pull out a gift bag, and follow you to where you settle on his bed.

“You first.” He nods.

He places the bag in your palms, and you waste zero time pulling the tissue paper out and seeing a small blue box at the bottom.

“Jack.” You freeze.

Your wide eyes meet his, and he immediately puts his hands up.

“It’s not a ring, I promise.”

You let out a relieved laugh, not that you don’t want a ring, but you’ve both discussed not doing it like this. You pull out the Tiffany box and open it, revealing a beautiful small pendant necklace.

“Jack,” you gently brush your fingers over the jewelry piece. “It’s beautiful.”

He smiles, proud of himself, and nods.

“It’s a bit basic, I know, but you said your favorite necklace broke a few weeks ago, and I wanted to get you a replacement.”

You lean over, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I love it, J. Now, your turn.”

You shove the present into his hands, and you can hardly contain your excitement as he unwraps it. When he finally finishes tearing the paper, your favorite writing journal sits in his lap, and a wide smile crosses his face.

“I knew you’d get it. Thank you, baby.”

He moves to kiss you again, but you shake your head rapidly, tapping your hand on the journal.

“Open it.”

He does, and a folded piece of paper drops into his lap. He throws you a puzzled look as he picks it up, unfolding the creases and beginning to read. His eyes dart back and forth for a minute, and then his stare snaps to yours.

“Is this real?” His voice is a bit shaky. “I swear to god, is it?”

Tears fully do form in your eyes now as you nod your head, and in a single moment, he’s pulling you to your feet and spinning you around and around, yelling so loud you think New York will hear him.

He sets you down gently, his hands still holding you close, and for a second, all you can do is stare at each other, grinning like fools. He’s breathless, his face lit up with pure happiness and stun.

“You-you're really coming here?” he asks, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he can’t quite process the gift you’ve just given him.

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady and not cry again. “I didn’t think I’d get into the program here, so I didn’t tell you. But yes, I got it and I’m doing it, I’m coming here.“

He pulls you back into him, his arms tight around you. “This...this is everything."

You nod, pulling back to grab his chin. “I’m done being away from you.”

His eyes soften, his lips curving into the smile only reserved for you, making your heart swell. “You have no idea how happy you just made me,”

You chuckle, brushing back his hair from his forehead. “Well, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Good, because I was going to call and ask for a trade tomorrow.“

[deanmarywinchester]

1) if you live in a new build and your water pressure sucks you may be able to improve it by unscrewing the shower head (you may need a wrench) and removing the flow restrictor (a little screen). if the heat sucks but works fine on the sinks/other showers it may be an anti-scald device - this will be a quick fix but you will need to go on YouTube and look up your brand of shower faucet.

2) if you have leather shoes put a little venetian shoe cream on em 2-4 times a year

3) when using a drill put pressure parallel to the bit by resting your free hand on the butt of the drill and leaning your weight into it

4) if you have a knitted wool item (not necessarily hand knit, just knit - as in with a slight stretch- fabric as opposed to woven- without stretch) that slightly doesn’t fit you can wet it, blot dry with towels, and pin it into a new shape by up to a couple inches until it dries. be sure to take measurements before you wet it. google “wet blocking a sweater” for further advice. these are secrets knitters don’t want you to know.

5) don’t, I repeat DO NOT take the newark airport express bus. take NJ Transit to Penn Station instead

6) um. I love you

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you:

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase one:

<last chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 2.1k

💌 from me to you: i heard it’s thanksgiving in the us so happy thanksgiving to all of you!! thank u so much for all the love in part one, but here’s where the fun really begins. also, thank u for the 500 reblogs <3 i love u all so much and i’m thankful for all of u. 🤍

𖧷

emmaroberts

Newark, New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, ninahischier and 603 others

emmaroberts night out :)

View all 30 comments

user1 it’s so funny to me how the hischiers always like emma’s pics like they love her 😭

miaturner YOURE SO FINE HELP HELP HELP CALL THE COPS

emmaroberts miaturner mia you’re mentally challenged but i love you a lot

user2 it’s not even been five minutes since she’s posted and nico’s already in the likes

user3 user2 and so is nina so???? your point??

tmeier96 Why was I not invited 😢

emmaroberts tmeier96 next time we’ll call you promise

user4 ok. have u guys seen nico’s story

user5 user4 omg yes do you think they were dining together

user6 user5 user4 it wouldn’t be THAT much of a surprise bc they’ve been friends for AGES

user4 user6 you’re right i guess 🤷‍♂️

𖧷

nicohischier and emmaroberts added a new story!

𖧷

THE FLORAL perfume you had chosen for the night was bothering you, yet you had no one to blame but that one lady at Sephora who offered you a huge deal and made you buy it even if you didn’t like it that much.

Realistically speaking, you knew that the perfume wasn’t really the issue here. You were nervous about this whole fake-dating thing, even if you’d been your idea to begin with.

Lying and faking things weren’t really your deal. As a child, you’d always get in trouble because you could never lie properly. Growing up, you also faced your own problems because you can’t lie.

But you really want to help Nico.

Tonight’s Luke’s 21st birthday, and you had been invited to his little birthday dinner, a small celebration with people from his team and close friends, which included you. Although, you’re going more as a plus one than a friend, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.

A knock on your bedroom door has you turning your head around, facing Nico as he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms in front of you.

“You look nice,” he compliments you, and you smile, putting your arms behind you.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So,” he claps his hands, sighing. “Are we ready? What’s the game plan for today?”

You take a deep breath, mentally repeating the “plan” you’ve been working on.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do tonight, and Nico, you have to take this really seriously or else—”

“You sound really scary right now—”

“Nico.”

“Okay,” he pouts. “Go ahead.”

“All of your teammates are going to be there tonight and if anyone is going to help us fool Nora Ellis, it’s them,” you walk around the room, moving your hands as you explain your thoughts. “If we make ‘em believe that we are very much in love and together, then we’ll be safe.”

“That will be kind of hard,” he shrugs. “We’ve been friends for a while and we’re close but… I don’t know.”

“Nico,” you step closer, standing in front of him. “For this lie to work, you have to believe it. We have to believe it. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this work.”

He whistles. “You know a lot for someone who can’t lie to save her life and started crying when I asked you if you had turned my jerseys pink when you decided that washing them with Nina’s pink shirt was a good idea.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lips, trying to hide your smile. “I just read tons of books.”

“When was the last time you—”

“This isn’t relevant right now!” you point your finger at him. “What’s relevant is: we need to make your teammates believe we’re together and in love. Think you can make it?”

Nico smirks, poking your cheek with his finger.

“When have I ever backed out of a challenge?”

“You’ve been around Jack for too much time, you’re getting too cocky,” you joke, crossing your arms. “So, the second part of your plan: PDA, pet names and touching.”

“Go on, little genius.”

“Lots of touching,” you say, feeling your cheeks get warm as you emphasize the word lots, making you want to look elsewhere. You don’t. “Lots of PDA and I guess we can squeeze some pet names in there too.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Want me to call you baby? Sweetheart?”

You spend the next five seconds forcing your face to remain red-less and your heart to stop beating so fucking fast— you were afraid Nico might hear it, considering how close you were and how fast it was going.

Gulping, you continue. “I don’t want anything,” you mumble. “I just think it’ll work.”

“Then we’re fine,” he claps again, moving his hair around. “Do we need to discuss something else?”

You look at the watch on your wrist and click your tongue.

“We don’t have time, we have to leave now,” you walk towards your bed and grab your purse, your phone and your wallet. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Oh God, you think as you hear Nico’s laugh and comments about how fun this is all going to be, what have I done?

𖧷

“OKAY, AND remember, we started dating a month ago but we kept it super lowkey,” you remind Nico as you walk by his side towards the restaurant Luke chose for the night. “I hate lobster, you hate pop music.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Strongly dislike,” you smile, before looking down, where Nico had just slipped his hand and intertwined both of your hands together.

Right. You’re dating.

Entering the fancy place, you felt Nico’s body close to yours, and you tried your hardest to keep your cool. You were used to being close to him but not in this way, not like this—

“Hischier!” Jack shouts across the room and you almost want to knock him out with your own two hands for yelling like this and drawing everyone’s attention to you and Nico. “And… Emma?”

It was almost comical how grown men looked interested in your hands together, and how many smiles you could see directed at both of you. Your grip on Nico’s hand tightened without you even realizing it did, and you smiled politely at Luke and the rest of the Devils.

Nico let go of your hand for a second before shaking hands with Luke, wishing him a happy birthday like an old grandpa.

“Hey, Emma, thanks for coming.” Luke hugs you briefly, barely touching you, and you grin.

“Happy birthday, Lukey.”

“Emma!” Mia, one of your best friends, shouts and gets up, running to you. She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, happy to see her again after weeks. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I forgot,” you lie, feeling your cheeks getting warm. Mia looks at you like a human lie detector and you can tell she sees right through your bullshit but, happily, she doesn’t say anything else. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Ella’s here, too.”

You look around and try to find Ella, smiling when you see her sitting beside Luke, quietly speaking to one of the wives sitting beside her.

“I’ll talk to her later.” You reply.

You and Nico spend the next five minutes greeting the other people there, the rest of the players and some of the girlfriends before finally sitting down by Jack’s side— per his request, you must say. Nico’s hands immediately found yours as you placed them on top of the table, before grabbing the menu and smiling at you, brown eyes full of mischief.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

Before you could even think of what to say, Jack’s loud and annoying laugh filled the table. “I fucking knew it! Hamilton, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, man,” Hamilton sighs as he picks up his phone. “Couldn’t you guys keep hiding your relationship for a little bit more?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, looking at him before looking at Jack again.

“Dougie and I made a bet: if you made your relationship public by the end of the year, I’d win,” Jack starts, and you can tell how proud he is. “But if you didn’t, he’d win. Thankfully, I know my man here always gets my back.” He cheers, slapping Nico’s shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking child, Hughes.” Mia hisses before looking at you, clearly asking you why you hadn’t told her before.

“Shut up, princess. Now,” he grins. “My money, Dougie.”

You stare at them in disbelief, while Nico puts on his best performance and squeezes your hands together, smiling like he had just been caught eating snacks before lunch.

“Sorry, guys. We were just waiting for the right time,” he explains, and he sounds so natural you have to remind yourself to keep your surprise hidden. “Didn’t want to be like you and rush things.”

“Oh, screw you,” Jack laughs. “We all knew. You’re not slick.”

They kept talking while you tried to hide the fact that the things they were saying made no sense. Because you and Nico have never been close, romantically speaking. Sure, you’re friends, best friends if you want to go that way, but dating?

And, okay, you’re used to people thinking you’re together, because apparently a guy and a girl can’t be friends anymore, but this? The fact that they were sure of your “relationship” with Nico, sure enough to bet? This is surreal.

“Did you choose already?” Nico whispers to you, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don’t answer, trying to find the right things to say so you don’t screw up everything. “Baby? Are you okay?”

You nod, blinking a few times before staring at the menu in Nico’s hand again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’ll get the Caesar Burger, please.”

“Great choice.” He smiles at you, before telling your orders to the waiter.

You thought that your biggest concern here would be Nico, but in reality, it’s going to be you. You can’t really deal with too much attention on you, that’s why you’ve been keeping yourself in the shadows for this long— Hockey players can be loud and invasive sometimes, and you’d rather hang out with their kids or parents, because they won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“So,” Timo starts, sipping on his beer and resting his chin on his hands, looking like a goddamn school girl. “What made you decide it was finally time? Sie ist ein hübsches Mädchen, Nico.”

Nico looks at you, smiling. “Ja, ist sie,” he nods, and even if you have no idea of what they’re talking about, you smile too, because Nico’s smile makes you want to smile. “And, I don’t know, man. If you had a girl who looked like this,” he points at you with his head. “Would you want to hide her?”

“Nico, he won’t ever get a girl like Emma,” Dougie laughs before getting shoved by Timo. “Ouch.”

“Well, I think it’s nice you guys are finally out.” Palat’s wife says, making you smile and rest your head on Nico’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” you say, sweetening your voice to the max. “I think we were just trying to understand where we stood before, y’know, letting everyone know.”

“How did the Hischiers take it?” Mia asks, looking extra curious. “I bet Nina was happy.” Like I would’ve been if you had told me sooner, she mouths, making you cringe. Sorry, you mouth back.

“They took it well,” you lie through your teeth, squeezing Nico’s arm more than you probably should. “And Nina is just glad her sister-in-law isn’t a Hockey obsessed girl.”

People laugh and you can’t help but feel you had just gotten your approval from Nico's friends.

Nico changes the topic of the conversation, moving back to Luke, the star of the night, and you’re glad for it. You eat side by side with him, you laugh at his jokes, you’re constantly touching him, as he’s constantly touching you.

“We should go out some time,” Mia says, casually, like she doesn’t mean anything by it. “Y’know, catch up.”

“Like anyone would willingly choose to spend a day with you.” Jack bickers, and Mia rolls her eyes at him.

“Go fuck yourself, Hughes.”

“Hey, guys,” Luke yells from the other corner of the table. “You promised you’d be nice to each other today. It’s my birthday.”

“I said no such thing—”

“You can’t even hear what we’re saying—” They both say at the same time.

“Jack and Mia. Shut. Up.” Luke says and they both pout while they shut up.

“It’s so funny because they’re much more alike than they think.” You whisper to Nico, smiling as he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“They sure are, baby.”

It all seems so… natural. It’s weird and unsettling, but you’re fine with it as long as it helps people buy your lie. Also, the feeling of Nico’s heavy hand on your thigh isn’t really unpleasant.

The rest of the evening flies by and when you notice, it’s time for you to leave. You almost don’t want to, for the first time, happy to spend time with the players.

“D’you think they bought it?” You ask when you’re away from the guys and the restaurant. Your hands are still together but none of you notice it.

“I think they did,” he chuckles. “Actually, it was a lot easier than I was expecting.”

None of you address the fact that they already thought you were dating, though.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at your heels. “Phase one is complete, then.”

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look down at you, dimples on display for the whole world to see. Yet, you were the only one watching them right now. “Thank you. Truly.”

You smile, standing on the tip of your toes and giving him a light, brief kiss on the cheek, as you’re used to doing.

“You’re welcome.”

<next chapter>

[zegrasdrysdale]

I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE!! if you have time vould you maybe do a jack hughes smut where reader wears the rival teams jersey to piss him off and its like rough??

its been rotting in my brain for forever 😭

[ bitter rivals ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : just to make her boyfriend mad after a fight, (Y/N) wears a Flyers jersey to the Devils’ game against Philly in Newark … and she feels the consequences afterwards

warning(s) : smut ! rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, slight choking, hair pulling, possessiveness, pet names during sex. light angst

author’s note : hear me out … i was having a moment so i decided to tackle this request. not to mention i have been wanting to write something like this for a hot second so here we are. that’s how we got here so i hope y’all enjoy. i always have time to write some jack hughes smut too

༺═──────────────═༻

It's been nearly a week since their fight and (Y/N) hasn't heard from her boyfriend. Normally she wouldn't do something drastic since it's only been a week, but she feels like doing something drastic.

Instead of walking into the Prudential Center wearing a red 86 on her back, she wears an orange 11. She gets looks from a few Devils fans who know of her relationship with Jack, but she truly doesn't care. She knows will always be loyal to the boys in red and black despite trying to be petty.

After grabbing something to eat and drink, she heads down to her front row seats that she purposely bought just to make this point. She'll be right on the glass for Devils warmups in a few minutes.

Until then, she enjoys her chicken tenders and High Noon while fans begin to gather at the glass to get a close up look at their favorite players.

The Flyers come out first for warmups in their white away jerseys, then the Devils come out in their black alternate jerseys.

(Y/N) sticks out like a sore orange thumb in a sea of red, white, and black around her. She gets a couple of looks from the fans around her when she stands up. but it doesn't matter. She’s just trying to prove a point.

No one would blame her if they knew.

On the ice, she watches Luke skate up to his older brother. His eyes flicker in her direction. Luke leans into Jack’s ear and says something to him, who looks right at her. He has a look on his face that she has never seen before. He looks so angry.

When he starts to skate over to where she’s standing, Jesper intercepts him as soon as he sees where he’s going. He says something to Jack but Jack’s eyes never leave his girlfriend. She waves at him with a sly smirk on her face.

Mission accomplished. He saw her.

Jack slaps pucks at the net in obvious frustration or anger. She doesn’t know which it is at this point. She wouldn’t be surprised at all if he takes a few penalties during the game.

If he’s angry now, it’s just gonna fester for the next few hours. She’s probably screwed but it’ll be worth it in the end.

The Flyers jersey doesn’t deter her from cheering every time the Devils score a goal.

When Erik Haula nets his third goal of the night, she makes sure she throws the beanie she’s wearing onto the ice. Technically it wasn’t even her beanie. Jack left it at her apartment and never asked for it back so she stole it for the game tonight.

Throughout the game, she does notice that Jack glances at her a handful of times with a look of fury darkening his usually bright blue eyes. He sends glares at her when she cheers for the one goal he scored in the third period that secured the Devils the win.

An angry Jack has never scared her, but his anger has never been directed at her like it is right now. She’s either in for the worst night of her life after the horn blares when the game ends, or she won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Like she usually does after a game, she meets up with the other wives and girlfriends in a lounge by the locker room. Kristen Haula is the first one to approach her.

“What’s with the Flyers jersey?” she questions.

“Needed to prove a point to Jack,” (Y/N) replies. “That’s all. I’m not jumping ship or anything. We just had a fight and he hasn’t spoken to me in like a week. I proved my point so next game I’ll be back in a Devils jersey.”

Before Kristen can reply, Jack marches through the doors and immediately scans the room. His hair is still dripping from his postgame shower and he looks very disheveled, like he rushed to get ready.

His eyes land on her and she presses her lips into a line. Jack takes large strides over to her so it doesn’t take him very long to cross the room.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks. “A Flyers jersey? A Travis Konecny jersey? Seriously?"

Kristen smiles and silently walks away while (Y/N)’s eyes remain on Jack. “What? You don’t like my new jersey?” she asks with innocence in her voice.

He bites his bottom lip as he thinks about his response. She gives him the smallest of smiles while the gears in his head turn. "I want you to take it off," Jack tells her.

"Oh, Jacky," she sighs. "You wouldn't want me to do that if you knew what I wasn't wearing underneath this jersey."

She watches his eyes darken. "Let's go," he says to her. "We're going to my apartment right now."

Her jaw drops and Jack grabs her wrist. "Who said I wanna go anywhere with you?" she asks as she tries to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. "You haven't talked to me in nearly a week, Jack."

Jack turns and faces her. "Wonder why," is all he says. She raises her eyebrows at him. "Let's go, (Y/N). We can talk at my apartment."

This time, she lets herself get pulled out of the Prudential Center and into Jack's car. Luckily she caught an Uber to the arena. A very small part of her figured she would be leaving with her boyfriend after the game.

Neither of them speak as Jack drives from the arena to his Hoboken apartment. Her eyes are on the passing buildings and cars. She feels Jack's hand on her thigh at one point but she doesn't react to it.

Yes, she was teasing him with the "if you knew what I wasn't wearing" comment. Yes, she hopes they'll fall into bed. Falling into bed isn't happening until they talk. She wants to know why Jack hasn't talked to her in five days before his dick comes anywhere near her.

It's a silent car ride and a silent ride up the elevator to Jack's place. She can still feel how annoyed Jack is by the fact that she wore the opposing team's jersey and still cheered for the Devils. She's annoyed too. She's annoyed because she had to wear the opposing team's jersey just to get his attention.

Jack opens the door to his apartment and walks inside. She follows him as he throws his suit jacket onto a coat hanger by the door. She shuts the door behind her and watches Jack unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.

"Why?" she asks before he turns around. "Why did it take me wearing a Flyers jersey before I got your attention?"

He runs his fingers through his hair before he turns to face her. "I was thinking," he admits to her. "I was worried that I'd say something that I'd regret. I didn't want to hurt you, so I waited and actually took some time to think."

"Think about what?"

"Think about us," he softly tells her. "I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out if you actually meant what you said during our fight."

Her words come rushing back to her.

I don't know if I'm ready for this kind of life is what she had said to him.

"What did you think I meant by those words?" she asks.

"That you weren't ready for a life with me," he replies.

Jack is a beautiful man, but sometimes the smarts aren't there. Too many pucks to the head from Luke and Quinn.

"Jack, I meant that I didn't think I was ready to be an NHL wife," she tells him. "Of course I'm ready for a life with you, but it's everything that comes along with you. The spotlight, the eyes. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that."

The look that forms on Jack's face could make (Y/N) laugh. His eyebrows are raised and his mouth forms a little 'o'. She presses her lips into a line to suppress a smile. "I am such a dumbass," he says after he processes what she said. "Jesus Christ."

She wraps her arms around his neck and finally lets out a laugh. "You're my dumbass though."

When she leans in to kiss him, Jack pushes her away.

"Nuh uh," he says when she looks up at him. "I am absolutely not kissing you while you have that ugly ass jersey on. Not happening, (Y/N)."

Her eyes fall to the Flyers logo on her chest like she just remembered that she has the jersey on.

She reaches down between them and grabs the bottom of the jersey. Slowly, she pulls the fabric over her head to slowly reveal to Jack that she's not wearing anything underneath the jersey.

When the jersey is over her head, her eyes land on Jack. His eyes are wide while he looks her up and down. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he groans. “You really know how to piss a guy off. Not only are you wearing a Flyers jersey, but you didn’t even wear anything underneath.”

“Had to get your attention somewhere, Jacky,” she tells him as she gets up onto her tiptoes to attach her lips to his neck. “Glad it worked.”

Jack leans down and picks her up by the back of her legs. She wraps herself around him and keeps kissing and nosing at the skin on his neck as he walks somewhere in the apartment.

When he drops her on the couch, (Y/N) looks up at Jack and asks, “What about Luke?”

“What about him?” Jack settles comfortably between her knees.

“Won’t he be home soon?”

“Told him to find somewhere else to stay unless he wanted to see something that would scar him for life,” Jack tells her. “He told me that he’ll be at Dawson’s for the night. Now let me show you what happens when you decide to wear a jersey other than mine to a game.”

Yeah. She’s totally fucked. Literally and figuratively.

Jack ravishes her lips as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. A soft moan comes from her throat before she can stop it. One of his hands cups one of her bare breasts and the other cups her jaw. She tries to roll her hips against his to get some friction on her core, but he quickly puts a stop to that.

“I don’t think so,” Jack mumbles against her lips as he pins her hips to the cushion beneath her. “Only good girls get to come quickly tonight. You weren’t a good girl with the stunt you pulled.”

“Guess you didn’t like my new jersey,” she gasps as her boyfriend attaches his lips to the sensitive skin on her neck. “Or was it the fact that there was a different name on my back?”

The nip she gets is the answer she was looking for. Jack was jealous that another player’s name was on her back instead of his. She revels in the realization since it has been five days and it took wearing the jersey for him to talk to her.

He slowly begins to kiss down her neck and chest. He makes sure to give both breasts some attention before moving further down her belly.

Her fingers find a home in his now dry hair. She adores how soft his hair feels when it has just dried after a shower.

Jack’s fingers hook in the waistband of the leggings she has on. He slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body and kisses her hipbone when it’s exposed. She sighs as her boyfriend strips her of her pants. She kicks her sneakers off so Jack can pull them completely off of her.

She lets her legs fall open while Jack throws the leggings somewhere on the floor. Her soaked underwear is on full display for him. She watches his tongue dart out at his view.

“Touch me before I touch myself, Jack,” she orders him.

He goes back to hovering over her. A hand lightly wraps around her throat and she looks up at him in surprise. “You will do no such thing if you want to come tonight,” he retorts.

(Y/N) bites her lip at his words. She can’t remember the last time he spoke to her like this, but she is loving every second of it.

His other hand snakes between them and into the thin fabric of her underwear. A gasp comes from her lips as his fingers easily run through her slick folds. She wraps her hands around his arm to keep herself present.

“Jack,” she whines.

He cups her pussy and she has to stifle a moan. “Who does this belong to?” he asks.

“You, baby,” (Y/N) quickly tells him. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

Jack leans down and presses soft kisses to her cheek and jaw. “Good girl.” His words shoot straight down to her already pulsing core.

Without warning, Jack stands up and pulls her up. He gets her on her knees and leans her against the back of the couch with her chest pressed against the cushions. In the reflection of the glass cabinet that’s behind the couch, she can see Jack undressing behind her.

He twirls her hair into a makeshift pony and gets on his knees behind her. Jack’s lips are on her neck right under her ear. “Tell me who fucks you until you can’t speak,” he whispers.

His low voice causes the knot that has formed in her belly to tighten.

“You do, Jack,” she replies. Jack pulls on the makeshift pony until she’s looking straight up at the ceiling. A soft moan passes her lips. “You fuck me so good. Only you.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jack mumbles as he presses her into the cushions beneath her. He doesn’t release the pony.

With one hand, he manages to get her underwear off of her and onto the floor with both of their clothes. She feels his hard dick between her legs and had to resist the urge to grind against it.

Her legs are practically shaking as she waits for release.

He leans over her and kisses the back of her neck for a second before he slams into her. She cries out in surprise because that was the last thing she expected to happen.

“Fuck, Jack,” she breathes out as he lets her adjust to him. “Give a girl a little warning before you destroy her.”

She feels him smile and mumble, “We’ll see.”

This boy is going to be the death of her.

A minute passes before Jack begins to rock his hips into her. She bites her lip to try and keep herself from making an embarrassing noise.

Eventually, she gives up because she’s worried she’ll make her lip bleed with how hard she’s biting down on it.

(Y/N) begins to meet Jack’s hips with every thrusts. She lets out soft moans and whines every time they meet. He lifts one of her legs up onto the back of the couch so he can get a new angle on her.

She has to lean against Jack’s chest as he continues to fuck into her at the new angle. “This pussy was made for me,” Jack pants into her ear. He wraps his arms around her to keep her steady. “Feels so good around me.”

She wants to say something, but she’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that she can’t form any. All she does is let out a soft whine in reply.

“See? No one else can fuck you speechless like I can.”

The knot in the bottom of her belly tightens. She has to force herself to form words. “Jacky,” she whines. “Wanna come. Been a good girl for you. Please.”

Jack kisses the swell of her ear and grasps her breasts. “You only wear my name, baby,” he pants in her ear. “My number on your back. No one else’s.”

“No one else’s,” she agrees. “Can I come? Please?”

He hums and she clenches around him as soon as she has his permission. She loses her vision for a moment as she comes on Jack’s cock. His name echoes throughout the apartment as she hits her high.

She had no idea that Jack could be like this. Maybe she’ll have to mess with him if she’s going to see this side of her boyfriend. She’s pretty sure that she’s never had an orgasm this intense in her entire life.

Without realizing because of how hard her orgasm hit her, Jack comes inside of her and slouches against her when he comes down from his own high.

When she comes to, she’s lying on her back on the couch and Jack is wiping her with a wet cloth. His boxers are on the lower half of his lower body and she pouts.

“Was that okay?” Jack asks before she can say anything. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

She shakes her head and says, “It was perfect. It was more than okay. You were jealous.”

Jack laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe a little,” he admits. “I don’t like it when you wear other players’ jerseys.”

“Maybe talk to me next time and I won’t have to,” she teases. Jack rolls his eyes. “Anyway, can we go to bed? I wanna get your dick in my mouth and apologize in my own way.”

She’s surprised with how quickly Jack picks her up and whisks her off to his bedroom after that.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @goldihocksrocks @love4lando @sweetinsatiable

[ki-yomii]

tongue technology | myg, jjk

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader x jeon jungkook

➥ word count | 2.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, praise kink, implied established relationship, threesome, oral (f & m receiving), dry humping, soft dom!yoongi

➥ summary | yoongi teaches jungkook how to eat out his girl.

➥ notes | i wrote this when i was drunk (and horny). min yoongi has been wrecking me ever since i went to his newark show, sorry not sorry

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Throughout Jungkook’s life there’ve been several times when he’s doubted if his hyungs really did know best.

Though he’s got to admit, now that he finds himself naked and belly down on a mattress with his head shoved between your splayed thighs after months of hopeless pining, there might be a kernel of wisdom to that whole ‘respect your elders’ thing after all.

Never in a million years did he think the opportunity to indulge in the fantasies he’s had of Yoongi-hyung’s cute girlfriend-not-girlfriend would drop into his lap - quite literally.

Apparently he’s not the only one who noticed the way you look at him when you think no one else’s paying attention.

He thought it was a joke at first.

Left flushed and ashamed as his hyung leaned back in his chair with a mean little smirk, his arm low around your waist while his fingers teased at the hemline of your skirt, his low voice rough with amusement when he asked how long Jungkook’s wanted to touch, taste, take what was his.

It was all a blur after that, but with every muffled little whimper he drags from your throat with his tongue - the pretty noises leaving him flustered and sweating as he ruts his cock into the mattress - he cares less and less about the how, and more about the when.

“Shit, that’s it. Just like that, princess.”

Kneeling by the headboard, Yoongi tosses his head back with a groan. The sharp cut of his jaw flexes as he grits his teeth, your tongue curling around the hard length of his cock while your lips mouth at the swollen head.

Strong fingers pinch and pluck at your nipples until they’re puffy and sore, twisting harsh every time you feed another inch of cock into your throat just to feel the ripple of tight muscles as you gasp and gag.

Cooing, Yoongi glances down the line of your body to spear Jungkook with a heated look, his eyes dark and greedy.

“She’s such a good girl.”

A callous-rough thumb strokes over your distended cheek, tracing along the outline of his cockhead pressing through your skin.

“Isn’t she, Kook?”

“Mm…”

Panting, Jungkook’s slow to pull away from the heat between your thighs, his tongue flicking out to lick up the sticky mess you’ve made of his lips and chin.

Dragging his thumbs down the length of your slit, Jungkook smears the mess of slick and spit into your skin.

Then spreads you open to watch how your abused clit throb once, twice in neglect. His gut clenching hotly when your hips buck in protest as you whine around the mouthful of Yoongi’s cock.

Your pussy’s so sloppy and desperate to cum - and it’s all because of him.

Fuck.

Huffing, he slides his broad palms over the backs of your thighs, touch firm and unyielding as he pins your knees back.

The new angle tilts your hips up, opens up the cradle of your pelvis so every inch of you is exposed to his wandering, greedy gaze.

“She’s so fucking pretty, hyung.”

When he speaks, Jungkook’s voice is shot - hoarse, and weighted down by arousal as he strokes along your folds softly, reverently. He’s so keyed up he doesn’t know what to do, or where to settle his grip.

God, he wants to touch, kiss, suck every inch of your body. Wants to feel you come light up under him, your taste heavy on his tongue and the heat of your skin warm on his lips as he gets you rutting and desperate. Wants to make it so, so good for you.

And who better to guide him than-

“Hyung, please.”

So desperate he’s left feeling faint, so hard it hurts where his cock digs into the mattress, leaks all over the sheets. Almost feels like he’s about to cry from how much he aches, burns, wants.

There’s so much he wants to show you - too much - all at once.

He’s wanted and waited for so long.

Doesn’t even know where to start, desire crackling through him like wild fire, burning so hot and bright through his limbs he trembles.

Like a cooling stream, Yoongi leans over your head to rub a hand over the cap of Jungkook’s shoulder, his fingers light on the nape of his neck. Something unclenches in his chest, his lungs tight as he inhales long and deep.

“That’s it, Kook. Hyung’s right here, just breathe. We’re not going anywhere, don’t be afraid to take your time. Start easy, work up to more. Just do what feels natural, okay?”

The nod Jungkook gives is stilted, but the low, whiskey rough command helps calm some of the frantic energy buzzing in his chest.

Start easy - he can do that, no problem.

You squirm, hips tilting up in invitation as the soft sounds of you kissing and sucking echo through the room.

You mumble something unintelligible but the warm rush of arousal that slicks the insides of your thighs anew does all the talking for you.

Jungkook groans, the sound caught in his throat, “Shit.”

Steeling his nerves, he ducks down to skim delicate kisses and tender bites up your inseam, his rapid breaths ghosting over your pussy as he works his way higher and higher.

Every press of his lips feels like an offering, reverent and worshipping.

When he finally, finally kisses you directly on your oversensitive clit, you nearly bite off Yoongi’s dick and shoot of the bed - nerves alight with bottled lightening as pleasure rushes from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes.

Hand slapping at Yoongi’s thigh for purchase, you arch your back and moan, long and loud. Jungkook pauses, and Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat.

“Shh, princess.” Long fingers stroke the side of your face, sweep away stray hairs from your sweat-slick brow. “Let Kook take care of you. It’s alright, keep going.”

Not needing to be told twice, the maknae continues without preamble, his tongue snaking out to eagerly lap at the length of your pussy, chasing after the taste of your slick.

His lips curl around your swollen clit on the upstroke, sucking the tender flesh into the wet heat of his mouth.

Quiet, pleasure drunk slurs of your name mumbled into your skin as Jungkook does his best to show you how good he can be.

“Mm, good job playing with her clit like that, Kook. Just keep taking it nice and slow,” Yoongi says. “She’ll be dripping in no time, but don’t be afraid to get a little messy. She loves it sloppy. Don’t you?”

You pop off of Yoongi’s cock with a wet gasp, his shaft twitching heavy on your tongue, lipstick smeared and mouth swollen, “A-ah, fuck yes. Just like that J-Jungkook!”

Hands flying down between your thighs, you sink your fingers into the soft silk of his hair and tug, needing something to anchor you down lest you shatter into a million pieces.

Yoongi’s cock drags down the length of your cheek, trails of spit and precum making your skin wet and tacky.

“Oh, god - I can’t - fuck, fuck - please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

Your head is spinning, mind blissfully blank as all your focus narrows down to the enthusiastic tongue thrusting as deep as it can do. Words a slurred mess as your chest heaves with ragged pants.

“Doing s’good for me, baby. Just like I knew you would.”

“Careful, Kook,” Yoongi says, “I’m starting to feel a little left out. Might just have to get my own taste of her pretty pussy, huh.”

Fingers dancing along the swell of your breast, Yoongi waits until your eyes roll back to pinch at a peaked nipple, dragging his nail over the sensitive flesh.

He watches as you writhe, gaze heavy with intent and charged with expectation.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Electricity sparks down your spine, and you moan shamelessly in agreement because wow - you’d kill to feel that talented, rapid fire tongue in your pussy alongside Jungkook’s eager lips kissing your clit, their tongues tangled together and playing in your slick as they made you cum over and over again until the sheets were drenched and you shook with pleasure.

“Please,” you beg, “Want it - want it so much. Wanna cum. Please let me cum.”

Jungkook hums, the sound vibrating through you and almost making you sob. So, so close. Every messy flick of your clit, every hollow-cheeked suck of your folds builds the bubble of pleasure until you’re a jittery mess.

His raw enthusiasm makes up for any lack in skill, and you try to stay still - Yoongi trained you well, after all - but it can’t be helped.

Every woman’s got her limits, and once you start grinding back against Jungkook’s sweet face, glancing down to see the flushed tops of his cheeks and fever-bright eyes, you can’t stop.

Yoongi’s cock gives another throb against the heated skin of your cheek, and when you look up, your breath catches in your throat.

When he first propositioned you, you weren’t sure how to feel - how he’d feel seeing you with another man (even if it was one you both have a soft spot for) - but now you see you worried for nothing.

Because he’s just as enamored with the sight of the maknae between your thighs as you are, his gaze burning with hunger, his eyes half-lidded and so fucking dark they look black.

Your stomach swoops and your pussy clenches, the sudden desperation to have his cock heavy on your tongue again so strong your mouth waters.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, nuzzling the side of his shaft as you press open-mouthed kisses to the head, “Fuck my mouth.”

Fingers brush the curve of your cheek, “Whatever you want, princess.”

The first few thrusts are ginger, rhythm slow as you softly gag on his cockhead but it’s not long before he builds up speed, his hips snapping forward fluidly, the softness of his pelvis digging into the tip of your nose with how deep he grinds in.

It’s alright, he knows you can take it. He’s the one who taught you how to, after all.

“Shit, you look so good right now. Feels so good. Such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”

Jungkook’s hands inch up to cradle the jut of your hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the soft flesh of your belly.

His tongue works at your gummy walls, spearing deep on the down-stroke and twisting over your aching clit on the upstroke.

Your pussy throbs, and your throat burns, tears clinging to your lashes.

Your nails drag down the pale skin of Yoongi’s thighs, his hips hitching forward in retaliation. He cusses low and rough when you gag, your spit dripping down his shaft to soak his balls.

“You take it so well for me. How’d I get so lucky, huh? Shit.”

Knuckles bump your chin when Yoongi fists a hand around the base of his cock, his brow pinched and his jaw clenched.

“’m close. Gonna cum all over that pretty face.”

He’s not the only one.

You’re so fucking close to the edge you can taste it, and when you glance down at Jungkook, you feel like you got sucker punched. All the air rushes from your lungs, your head swimming.

Dark strands of hair stick to his forehead with sweat, his eyes closed as he sucks and laps at your messy pussy, rutting against the mattress in desperation.

When his eyes snap open to capture yours, the absolute hunger you see in them is your undoing.

Thighs clenching around his ears, you cum with a full body jerk, hands scrambling to push his head away as your clit throbs in time with your thundering heartbeat.

A wave of heat rushes through you, your toes curling hard. The world whites out as your fingers go numb and start to tingle. It’s a mini eternity before you’re sagging against the mattress, bones liquified.

Above you, Yoongi’s chest shudders with every breath, his mouth slack and muscles clenching. His cum drips down your cheeks in thick stripes, catching at the curve of your panting mouth.

When your tongue darts out to lick up what you can, he groans - a low, broken sound.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me one day.”

Jungkook’s no better, face smashed into the meat of your thigh. Hot air puffs against your skin, his broad frame shuddering.

Turned on his side as he is, you can see the mess he’s made on the sheets, cum still pulsing weakly from the head of his softening cock.

He moans softly when you reach down to brush your fingers over the back of his sweaty neck, drawling little swirls on his skin in quiet thanks.

“Well, that was fun,” Yoongi says with a groan, flopping down next to you. “But if I don’t get to sleep within the next 10 minutes, I’m killing both of you.”

Tossing an arm around your waist, he tugs you into his chest, the action jostling Jungkook who’s started to crawl up the bed to settle onto your other side with a half dead groan.

Another arm, thicker and just as secure in its grip, joins the other and you find yourself pressed between two bodies.

You’d normally mind the sweat and bodily fluids, but exhaustion tugs at your eyes and you silently promise yourself you’ll just take a really long shower in the morning.

If your bedpartners let you get that far before messing you up again.

Jungkook mumbles both your names and what sounds like a slurred thank you, his voice muffled and faraway as his face snuggles into the hollow of your throat before he’s dropping off with a snore.

“G’night.”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

❤️‍🔥can I request a number 17 from the smut prompts with Jack Hughes please, love your writing so much!

thank you sweet nonnie for not only complimenting my writing but also putting a players full name. 🫶🏻🥺

200 Followers Celebration

I also know Rutger is an hour from Newark but it's fan-fiction let's pretend the Newark campus is the main campus for the sake of this blurb. Please send in more requests this celebration is open till this Sunday. 💞💞

“Faster—ah shit—harder…”

Jack Hughes + alcohol + a slutty outfit = always equaled best orgasm.

Jack Hughes was someone who was more than a friend but less than a boyfriend. If someone asked to describe your relationship you would probably say something along the lines of "friends with benefits sometimes when convenient." Jack and you have had a weird complex relationship since you met him when you were freshly 18 and moved to New Jersey where you didn't know a single soul to go to Rutger University. He had just moved to New Jersey for the NHL, and somehow by fate you guys met. Both of became friends quickly, and that semester during your finals and his not so good rookie year, one night one of you (neither of you, years later now could tell you who) suggested to use sex as a stress relive.

Now years later, whenever one of you started talking to someone you would stop. But when both were single it wasn't uncommon to be in each-other's beds. Although when you went out to the club you were strictly "friends" until you made Jack jealous on purpose. It was the same pattern every time and if Jack has caught on, he's never said.

That's how it lead you to where you are right now, Jack grabbing you from the back holding your hips to his. Immediately your body felt at ease because it was him and also excitement in the pit of your stomach for what you knew was coming next. Jack didn't acknowledge the man in front of you both, instead he simply turned his head so his mouth could whisper in your ear. "If you think acting like a brat and flirting with some fuckboy in front of me. Who probably couldn't even find your clit if he had a fucking map will get you what you want when we get alone your wrong."

His words went straight to your core, making you push your legs together as discreetly as possible as Jack finally acknowledges the man in front of you both, but your too busy trying to get some relief you're not sure what words are exchanged nor do you care.

Next thing you know Jack is saying something about the Uber waiting for you both. The Uber ride despite 10 minutes, felt like an hour, as Jack couldn't stop himself from teasing you. His arm draped over the middle seat as he acted too busy talking to the driver while his fingers would ghost your exposed skin from your mini dress.

"jacky..." you whispered in a needy tone, not giving a fuck how you sounded to the driver due to how you felt.

Turning his head towards you, he said back "baby I'm talking to Isiah he's a fan." Leaning over the middle seat, his hand that's on your thigh gripping the flesh slightly. He whispered "after the stunt you pulled you can wait 10 minutes without acting like a needy little whore."

All you could do is nod to Jack's words, squeezing your eyes closed trying to control your breathing, as you could feel yourself dripping. Jack left a little kiss on your cheek, the driver thinking he was interrupting a sweet moment between the couple, little did he know the reality.

Finally making it back to his apartment, both of you thanked the driver as you exited the car. Jack grabbed your hand as he lead you into his building, he leaned down to your ear, his voice seething with authority. "Don't say a fucking word till we are in my apartment understand."

As soon we you step into the apartment, Jack picks you up, kissing you hard slamming you against the back of his front door. Pulling away, his mouth leaving little teasing bites down your down and collarbone. All you could do is moan in response, begging him to do more.

"naw naw naw now little one... who's in charge here?" he asked

"ya-- yoouu." you whimpered out.

"exactly and were gonna go at my rate. ya know tonight I was gonna give you whatever you wanted but then you had to go and be a fucking brat." almost spitting his words out in frustration at your actions early tonight. Taking his free hand that's not kneading your ass holding your jaw in place to look at him in the eyes.

"I don't know Jacky maybe he could fuck me better."

"oh now your gonna have it." As he takes the hand that was on your jaw, to unzip his pants and pull out his already hard cock. Going to rip your own underwear off only to discover you aren't wearing any. "your soaking wet, and you're not wearing anything."

"noo.. are you mad at me Jacky." you asked shyly.

"fuck" he whispered as he shoved his cock into you, barely giving you time to adjust to his size, before thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. Letting his body act before his brain could react rolling his hips faster as he heard you scream in pleasure.

"ahhh fuck - " he exclaimed.

"please - faster - " you begged. "ah shit - right there Jack fuck"

"yeah you like that babygirl" he grunted.

"hmmm" you whimpered. your nails definitely leaving marks on the back of his shoulders. "see how good I make you feel. no one gets to you like this. not that fucker at the bar, not your ex who couldn't make you cum, just me."

"ahhh harder.. yeah right there FUCK." You screamed as you both chased your own person highs.

"say it. who makes you feel this good?" taking his free hand and slightly chocking you.

"only you. no one else J" At your confession he quickened his pace even faster, both of you grunting and moaning in pleasure as you both reached your climaxes.

[kathlare]

no strings attached

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: At a star-studded afterparty following the VMAs, Amelie finds herself urged by Taylor Swift to embrace a carefree night of fun and distraction.

Wordcount: 1.9 k

Warnings: suggestive content

full masterlist // request over here!

September 12th, 2023 - Newark, NJ

The afterparty was in full swing, the air electric with the buzz of alcohol, neon lights, and celebrity gossip. Amelie nursed her second—maybe third—glass of champagne, the soft hum of music vibrating through her chest as she leaned against the bar. Her long black dress shimmered under the dim, colorful lights, catching glances from all corners of the room. She didn’t mind. She was used to it.

—Well, if it isn’t the heartbreaker herself,— Taylor Swift teased, sliding up beside her with a mischievous grin, a cocktail in hand. Taylor looked effortlessly stunning, as always, her energy magnetic. She’d swept the VMAs with multiple wins, and tonight, she was in the mood to celebrate—and stir the pot.

Amelie rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. —I’m not a heartbreaker. That’s your title, Taylor.—

Taylor tilted her head, mock-offended. —Oh, please. You practically invented heartbreak, darling. I just made it rhyme.— She nudged Amelie playfully before lowering her voice conspiratorially. —But you’re way too broody tonight. What’s up?—

Amelie sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. —Nothing. Just tired, I guess.—

Taylor gave her a knowing look, the kind that saw straight through the bullshit. —No, no, no. We’re not doing that tonight. You’re at the fucking VMAs afterparty. You’re Amelie Dayman. Tired is for tomorrow. Tonight, you’re living.—

Amelie chuckled, shaking her head. —What exactly do you suggest, oh wise one?—

Taylor leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. —You’ve been single for what, four months now? It’s time, babe. One night. No strings. Just fun.—

Amelie blinked at her. —You mean a one-night stand?— The words felt foreign on her tongue. She’d never done anything like that before. Casual hookups weren’t her thing—not really.

Taylor shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. —Exactly. You’re overthinking it. Just find someone hot, have a little fun, and move on. It’s liberating. Trust me.—

Amelie hesitated, biting her lip. —I don’t know, Tay. That’s not really... me.—

—Why not?— Taylor countered. —You’re single, you’re hot, and half the people in this room would kill for your attention. Besides, you deserve a distraction. Someone to make you forget about... you know who.— Her voice softened at the end, but Amelie knew exactly what she meant. Lando. Lately, it always meant Lando.

Amelie laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. —That’s not why I’m...—

—Don’t care,— Taylor interrupted, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the dance floor. —You’re doing this. Tonight.—

As they weaved through the crowd, Amelie felt the champagne settling warmly in her veins, the buzz of the night dulling her inhibitions. Taylor stopped abruptly, her eyes locking on someone across the room. —There. Perfect.—

Amelie followed her gaze and immediately recognized him. Jack Harlow. He was leaning casually against a booth, a beer in hand, his curls unruly and his grin magnetic as he chatted with a small group of people. He exuded confidence, charm, and just enough swagger to be intriguing.

—No,— Amelie said instinctively, shaking her head. —Absolutely not.—

Taylor smirked, her grip on Amelie’s arm tightening. —Oh, come on. He’s perfect. And he’s looking right at you.—

Amelie glanced back, and sure enough, Jack’s eyes met hers from across the room. He smiled, tilting his head slightly, as if inviting her over. Her heart skipped a beat.

—I can’t,— she whispered, though her feet didn’t move.

—You can,— Taylor said firmly, giving her a gentle push. —You’re welcome. Go be hot.—

Before Amelie could protest, Taylor melted back into the crowd, leaving her standing there like a deer in headlights. Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see if she’d come over.

Fuck it. The champagne spoke louder than her hesitation, and she found herself walking toward him, her dress trailing behind her like a glittering wave.

As she approached Jack, he straightened up, his easy smile never faltering. He gave her a once-over, clearly appreciating the view. —Amelie, right?— His voice was smooth, with a hint of playful curiosity.

She nodded, feeling a strange rush of heat flooding her cheeks, though she didn’t know why. She’d been in the public eye for years, but something about the way he looked at her felt different. —Yeah, that’s me.—

Jack’s grin widened, and he gestured toward the empty space beside him. —Come on, sit down. Don’t tell me you’re here to just stand around. The night’s too young for that.—

Amelie hesitated for a split second before sliding into the booth next to him. His presence was magnetic—he wasn’t tall, but he had this laid-back yet confident aura, the kind that demanded attention without asking for it.

—So, uh, are you here with anyone?— Jack asked, his voice casual but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity.

Amelie took a deep breath, trying to focus. The combination of the alcohol and the electric atmosphere in the room made her feel lighter, freer. This wasn’t a conversation she would’ve had sober, but tonight, she was letting herself go. She glanced at him, feeling a spark of something she hadn’t felt in a while.

—No. Just me. I came alone, actually.— She found herself smiling despite the nerves. The words felt both real and unreal, she was here, at the afterparty, and Jack Harlow was talking to her like they weren’t worlds apart.

—Perfect, then. I don’t like sharing anyway,— he said with a wink, leaning in just enough for his words to feel intimate, yet not too forward. There was an edge to his flirtation, but it felt playful, not aggressive.

Amelie laughed, relaxing a little as the conversation flowed. —Yeah, I’m not really a fan of that either.—

He raised his glass. —Cheers to that. And to this... whatever this is.— His eyes lingered on her for a second too long, his gaze sharp yet inviting.

—This is... us talking, I guess.— She gave a teasing shrug. —But who knows what else it could be, right?—

Jack’s smile turned mischievous, his fingers tracing the rim of his bottle. —I’m definitely open to whatever happens next. Life’s too short, don’t you think?—

There was something in his eyes—something bold, daring. It was the kind of energy Amelie usually kept at arm’s length, but tonight, she was embracing it. Taylor’s voice echoed in her head, urging her to live a little. To do something she hadn’t done before. To forget about the past and just enjoy the moment.

—You’re right. Life’s too short,— she agreed, her voice low. She didn’t know what she was saying anymore, but it felt... liberating.

Jack grinned wider, clearly pleased with her response. He leaned forward, the proximity making her heart race a little faster. —So... what are you doing after this, Amelie?—

Her breath hitched, the question suddenly feeling charged. The music around them thudded in the background, the flashing lights bathing them both in a kaleidoscope of colors. For a moment, everything else disappeared.

—What are you suggesting?— she asked, her voice suddenly more confident than she’d intended.

—Maybe we should take this party somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. You, me, and the night, no strings attached.— Jack’s voice was smooth, like honey, and the way he said it made it sound like the most natural thing in the world.

Amelie’s mind raced, but the part of her that was tired of thinking, tired of holding back, decided to let go. She didn’t need a reason, and right now, she didn’t want to analyze anything. She needed a distraction. Something to fill the emptiness that had been lingering ever since her breakup with Rodrigo. She needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t stuck in the past, that she could let go and embrace the unknown.

—Okay, let’s go,— she said, surprising herself with how easily the words rolled off her tongue.

Jack’s grin deepened, and before she knew it, they were making their way out of the party. The air outside was a cool contrast to the heat of the club, but Amelie didn’t feel it. The adrenaline from the decision she’d just made coursed through her veins, replacing any hesitation with a rush of excitement. They walked through the streets, Jack’s hand finding its way to the small of her back, guiding her toward a private car parked nearby.

The drive to her apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional glance exchanged between them. It wasn’t until they stepped into the elevator of her building that Amelie finally allowed herself to breathe. The weight of what was about to happen hit her all at once.

When the elevator doors slid open, Jack followed her into the apartment without hesitation. The lights in the living room were dim, casting a soft glow over the space. She felt strangely calm, even as the reality of the situation settled in.

Jack placed his beer down on the counter and turned to face her. —You sure about this?— His voice was serious now, though there was a trace of that same playful energy.

Amelie stood still for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then, without a word, she closed the distance between them, cupping his face with both hands. The kiss was sudden, a spark of heat that spread through her entire body, igniting something she hadn’t felt in a while. Jack responded instantly, pulling her closer, his hands finding their way to her waist.

It wasn’t the most graceful thing—it was raw, intense, like two people giving in to an impulse they couldn’t explain. Clothes came off in a hurry, discarded carelessly on the floor as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The night felt like it had no rules, no boundaries. Just two people in the moment, pushing everything else away.

When she woke up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains was the only thing that reminded her the world hadn’t stopped while she’d been wrapped in the chaos of last night. Her head felt heavy, the dull ache of a hangover just beginning to settle in. She stretched out, feeling the sheets cool against her skin, and that’s when she noticed the emptiness beside her. Jack was gone.

Her heart skipped. For a split second, panic set in—had he left without a word? But as she glanced around the apartment, her eyes landed on a small note on the pillow where he had been. She picked it up, unfolding the paper.

"Thanks for the fun, Amelie. You’re amazing. Take care."

A smile tugged at her lips. He didn’t need to leave a note, but somehow it felt good. No drama, no promises—just a quiet exit, as if everything that had happened last night was exactly what it needed to be. A brief distraction. A release.

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liked by jackharlow, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: vma in custom Vera Wang could shed a tear maybe i did

View all 1,584 comments

amazingangel88: OH. MY. GOD. The dress, the vibe, the QUEEN. 💅

gracieabrams: you are a literal angel ✨ I’m not even sure how to comprehend this level of beauty, like do you even breathe??? 😭 → ameliedayman: @gracieabrams I do, I swear!

oliviarodrigo: UHHHHHHHH this dress is giving too much, Amelie. Are you trying to make us all cry? 💔 → amelie: @oliviarodrigo I mean, it’s for the vibes, right? 💀💅

f1girlies4life: WAIT LANDO?? 👀 but he's not even following her though? WHAT IS GOING ON

musiclovers_unite: Ohhh look who’s liking posts now, Lando’s back 😳🤭

callumdayman: I’m still getting used to seeing my little sister all grown up, but I’m proud as hell. Always shining.

jackharlowlover24: JACK HARLOW LIKED THE POST!!!! 👀👀👀 We LOVE to see it → onlyjackharlowtrulove: @jackharlowlover24 nah, but did he slide into her DMs after? 🤔🤔

elysia_dayman: Literally, why do you keep getting more stunning? Every year, you just keep proving you’re the prettiest.

emiliamernes: No puedo dejar de pensar en lo impresionante que te ves, Amelie. 💖💖 → ameliedayman: @emiliamernes ¡Mil gracias! Siempre me haces sonrojar. 😅

stella_dayman: Just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you do. I’m so proud of you. Keep shining, darling. ✨

lantern_fan: Hold up. Lando is liking her posts again?? After all these years? We need answers! → itslouisf1: @lantern_fan Don’t read too much into it! They were friends, you know. He’s just showing support. 👀

lando4nation: If Lando’s not following but is still liking the posts…doesn’t that say something?? 🤔 → melissaf1fan: @lando4nation Guys, relax. It’s probably just a “friendly support” thing. But who knows 👀