#lucky charm!jack hughes

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

CONGRATS ON 500 BABE! You deserve it and so much more 🖤

I’d like to request Quinn with the prompt. “weird way to propose but yes.”

Love you. Bye.

BUCKLE UP IM IN LOVE WITH HIM

Quinn Hughes - fluff prompt 11 - “weird way to propose but yes.”

WC: 511

CW: none tbh, just fluff

Quinn loved whenever you were able to join him for an away game, didn't care if it was multiple games or just one. He loved having you there, you were his lucky charm. Some people have socks, or underwear. He has you. He’s always had you. It started in college, every game you were at they won. It followed through into the big leagues. You were there the night he was named captain, and the night they solidified their playoff run. You were always there.

The thought of marrying you wasn’t ever a “maybe” thought. To him it was as easy as 1,2,3. Quinn knew very early on how badly he wanted to put that ring, that's been hidden in his closet for the last 4 years, on your finger. Jack had talked him out of proposing to you his freshman year at umich. To which he's thankful for now, he's had time to perfect his plan.

You’d known for a very long time that Quinn was the end of the endings, Quinn was your lifeline. You were never in a rush. You knew it'd happen, you knew that even if you didn't have a ring or his last name he was yours and you were his. Everyone knew.

When the schedule aligned and you were hand in hand with Quinn in the heart of Las Vegas something felt different. Not in a bad way, just new.

Quinn’s stares lingered a little longer, his hands haven’t not been somewhere on you, his kisses felt

more heavy and relaxed all at the same time.

Your mind kind of just off, focused on the way Quinn’s skin felt against yours. On how he always led you where you needed to go, never putting you in any harm.

“Sweetheart,” his fingers gripped a little harder, pulling me back to reality. “You hear me?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, “no, i’m sorry. Can you say it again?”

He looked at you with a tooth rotting grin, “I asked if you wanted the last pretzel?”

“Weird way to propose, but yes. I do.” You giggled.

There was a flash in his eyes, his stance tightening. “You know, we’re in Vegas.”

Humming at the boy as you take a bite of the pretzel he saved you.

“We could go to any chapel in a 2 minute walk, and you could walk out a Hughes and I could walk out your husband.”

“You wanna marry me?” Your voice so quiet you were sure he didn’t hear you.

“More than you know. Have for a long time too. Tried to ask in school but Jack bullied me. Told me

to wait it out a little longer. You’re home to me, you’re it for me.”

He stopped walking, hands finding home on your cheek. Wiping away a tear that made her way down.

“I have a ring at home, in the closet. Top shelf where I keep all my special game pucks. So, what do you say? Wanna let Elvis call you my wife?”

“Yeah, Quinny. I do.”

[missmaymay13]

home is with you - j.hughes

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

j.hughes x fem!oc | 13k

summary: jack was a patient person, and he was willing to wait as long as everlyn briar needed to realize that he was there for her.

masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Quinn Hughes knew a lot about hockey.

Ask him about any game in the last decade—NHL or juniors—and he could give you a detailed play-by-play, rattle off stats like they were embedded in his DNA, and even tell you the name of the ref who made that terrible call in the second period. Hockey ran through his blood. It was his language, his rhythm, his safe place.

Academics, though? That was a different story.

It wasn't that he wasn't smart. He was just... uninterested. Unmotivated. The kind of kid who could get through most classes on charm and bare-minimum effort, skating by (pun intended) with a shrug and a smile. But junior year hit different. The coursework was harder, his travel schedule was crazier, and even Ellen—his endlessly patient, fiercely supportive mom—was starting to worry.

So she did what any mom would do: she found him help. Enter Everlyn Briar.

She was a sophomore, which at first felt weird to Quinn. A younger student tutoring him? But it took less than five minutes into their first session for him to realize Everlyn wasn't just smart—she was brilliant. The kind of person who didn't just know the answers, but understood them. Who explained things like it was no big deal, casually dropping SAT vocab like it was regular slang. She was taking AP classes in everything and somehow managing to be the captain of the school's volleyball team.

And not just on the volleyball team—she ran it. Confident, poised, competitive as hell.

Quinn didn't know people like her existed in real life.

He also didn't expect to like her.

At first, he resented the whole tutoring setup. It made him feel dumb, and if there was one thing Quinn Hughes hated, it was feeling dumb. But Everlyn had this way of making you feel like you were capable. Like you could be just as smart as her if you tried. She had an addicting personality—effortlessly cool, quick-witted, with a sense of humor that caught him off guard more than once.

And then there was her smile.

God, that smile. Bright and full of mischief, like she was constantly in on a secret she might let you in on if you were lucky enough. It was the kind of smile you couldn't forget, even if you tried.

Their tutoring sessions slowly evolved into something else. Something casual, something natural. They'd meet in the library or the back corner of the local coffee shop, but more often than not, their study sessions would end with them laughing over inside jokes, sharing stories about their teammates, or mock-roasting each other over their wildly different Spotify playlists.

Within a few months, they were inseparable.

It wasn't long before their social circles started to blur. Everlyn met Quinn's friends from the team, and he got introduced to her volleyball crew. Weekend hangouts became group events—bonfires, house parties, late-night diner runs. It was all fun and games until people started dating each other and everything got predictably messy.

Typical high school chaos.

There were breakups that forced the group to awkwardly take sides, dramatic friend group rifts, and one infamous party where someone tried to stage an "intervention" for a relationship that wasn't even official. Through it all, though, Quinn and Everlyn stayed solid. He'd show up to her games, she'd come to his. They were always seen together—heads tilted close in conversation, sharing drinks, stealing fries off each other's plates without asking.

Years would pass before either of them realized just how much those years mattered—how foundational they were. Before either of them would understand that what they built back then, in classrooms and crowded kitchens and half-lit basements, was going to follow them far beyond high school.

Because this isn't just Quinn's story.

It's Jack's too.

And for Jack Hughes, Everlyn Briar wasn't just some girl his brother used to hang out with.

She was the girl.

The one he was never supposed to fall for.

⸻ It started small.

At first, Everlyn would stay a few minutes after her tutoring sessions—just long enough to chat with Quinn before he got dragged off to practice or dinner. Then she'd linger a little longer, helping him pack up his notes, maybe sneaking in a few teasing jabs about his handwriting or his inability to remember historical dates. Eventually, Quinn started inviting her over for actual study sessions at his house.

And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, Everlyn Briar became a regular fixture at the Hughes household.

It was Ellen's idea, really. She was over the moon about Quinn's sudden improvement in school—how he seemed lighter, less tense. His grades had gone up, but more importantly, so had his confidence. And she noticed it wasn't just the academics. Her son was happier. There was a spark in him again.

So of course, Ellen wanted to meet the girl responsible for that.

That first invitation came wrapped in the form of a casual offer: "Why don't you just stay for supper, sweetheart?" And Everlyn, who had only meant to drop off a study guide, hesitated just long enough for Ellen to smile and wave her into the kitchen like she'd already been part of the family for years.

It was so simple. So easy. So warm.

Everlyn didn't realize how much she needed that warmth until she felt it.

The Hughes house was nestled at the top of a long driveway, the kind of home that looked like it had history—scuffed baseboards, picture frames lining the hall, cleats piled by the door. It smelled like home-cooked meals and dryer sheets, and the moment she stepped inside, she could feel something shift in her chest.

There was life here. Real life.

Trophies filled the shelves—some polished and gleaming, others dusty with age. Framed photos covered the walls, capturing every phase of childhood: first goals, missing teeth, family vacations. Hockey sticks leaned against corners. A dog barked from the backyard. Laughter echoed from upstairs.

It was messy in the way that made your chest ache with comfort.

She could've cried.

Because back at her own house, it wasn't like this. Not anymore. The silence there was deafening, broken only by the sound of raised voices behind closed doors or the slam of a front door that never quite shut all the way. Her parents were in the middle of what could only be described as a war disguised as a divorce—ugly, drawn-out, venomous. And lately, Everlyn had become the easiest target.

It wasn't physical. Not exactly. But the emotional toll? That was harder to explain.

The tension followed her like smoke. Her mom was sharp with her words, her dad cold with his distance. The house was split in invisible lines—rooms she couldn't go into without a fight, conversations that ended in tears, meals that were eaten in silence. And she, caught in the middle, found herself suffocating more and more with each passing day.

So she escaped. Any chance she got.

Practice. Study halls. Library sessions that lasted until closing. Couch cushions at friends' houses. Empty locker rooms. Anywhere but home.

Which made the Hughes' house feel like a gift from the universe. An oasis.

The first person to greet her that day—besides Quinn—was a thirteen-year-old Luke Hughes, peeking cautiously from behind his older brother's shoulder. He had that awkward middle-school lankiness, all limbs and big eyes, his dark hair a little messy like he'd been running around all day. Shy but clearly curious, he gave her a wary glance, unsure of what to make of the girl standing at his front door with a backpack and a too-kind smile.

"Hey," Everlyn said softly, crouching down just a little to his height. "You must be the famous Luke. I've heard you've got a killer slapshot."

Luke blinked, then gave the tiniest, bashful nod—cheeks already a bit pink. And just like that, she'd won him over.

From then on, he was her shadow anytime she visited. Offering her cookies, showing off his hockey cards, even once letting her watch him play NHL on the Xbox. Luke Hughes was a soft, sweet soul—and he, like the rest of the family, made space for Everlyn without asking for anything in return.

Next came Ellen and Jim.

They met her with hugs, no hesitation, like she was already part of something. Ellen's warmth was maternal and immediate—offering her water, asking if she was hungry, complimenting her necklace. Jim's was quieter but genuine, his handshake firm, his smile kind. And both of them went on and on about how grateful they were to her for helping Quinn—not just with school, but with his peace of mind.

"You've brought such a light to him," Ellen had said, eyes crinkling. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

Everlyn had smiled and said thank you, but the words clung to her like armor. A light. She didn't feel like a light lately. Not with everything going on at home. But maybe, just maybe, here... she could be.

She was still soaking it all in—memorizing the faces in the photos on the walls, the way the floor creaked in certain spots, the steady hum of a home that felt alive—when the front door opened again.

And in walked Jack Hughes.

He was fifteen then. Already taller than most of the guys at school, with dark, boyish hair that curled a little at the ends and those unmistakable Hughes eyes—sharp, expressive, like they could see straight through you if he wanted to. His backpack was slung lazily over one shoulder, cheeks a bit flushed from biking home, and there was a faint scowl on his face until he rounded the corner and saw her.

Everlyn.

His brother's friend.

The one he wasn't expecting to look like that.

Jack froze for half a second, and it was only noticeable if you were really paying attention. His mouth opened just slightly, like he was about to say something and forgot the words. His eyes did a quick sweep—face, hair, eyes, outfit. And then he recovered, tossing on that signature smirk he wore like a badge.

"Hey," he said coolly. "You must be Everlyn."

She looked up from the couch, smile blooming. "And you must be Jack. I've heard a lot about you."

"Only the good stuff, I hope."

"That depends on your definition of 'good.'"

Quinn snorted from the kitchen, and Jack rolled his eyes. But his gaze didn't leave her. Something about her pulled at him—a softness behind her confidence, something that made his usual smoothness falter just a little.

And when she smiled at him—really smiled, all teeth and light—Jack Hughes, the confident, cocky middle brother, felt his heartbeat do something stupid.

Like skip.

He'd seen her before, sure. In the hallways at school. At volleyball games he'd gone to half-heartedly with Quinn, back when she was just a name he'd heard in passing. But seeing her now, in his home, on his couch, laughing with his brothers?

She wasn't just a name anymore.

And he didn't know it yet—but this girl, this friend of his brother's with the soft voice and the sharp mind, was about to change everything.

⸻

It was subtle at first.

A lingering glance here. A too-long laugh there. The way Jack's eyes would flick toward her in a crowded room, like his brain was hardwired to track her presence no matter what else was happening.

Jack Hughes had a crush.

A real one. The kind that made your chest tighten and your thoughts trip over themselves. But this wasn't just any girl. This was Everlyn Briar. The girl who tutored his older brother. The girl who had somehow woven herself into the fabric of the Hughes home like she'd always belonged there. The girl who showed up with a smile and stayed with a purpose.

And Jack—who usually had no trouble flirting, who could talk circles around most girls his age—suddenly found himself stammering or going completely silent anytime she looked at him for too long.

He hated it.

Well, no. He didn't hate her. God, no. He hated the situation.

Because she was Quinn's friend. His tutor. His person. And there were unspoken rules about that kind of thing—lines that brothers just didn't cross. So Jack kept it cool. He played the role of younger brother, occasional background comic relief, the charming but harmless kid who just so happened to stare a little too long when she wasn't looking.

But all of that restraint unraveled a little the night Quinn decided to throw a party.

Their parents were out of town for the weekend—a rare escape for Ellen and Jim to have a weekend to themselves—and Quinn, being a senior with a newly found sense of confidence and freedom, took full advantage.

The guest list was mostly hockey friends and volleyball players, a mix of athletes and classmates that made the house feel loud and alive by 9 p.m. Jack got the nod to invite some of his own people too, a gesture from Quinn that meant more than it seemed.

Jack wasn't exactly part of the "cool" senior crowd yet, but he could hold his own. And when he found out Everlyn would be there—of course she'd be there—he felt this strange mix of nerves and excitement hum beneath his skin all day.

He played it off well. Showed up in a backwards hat and his best hoodie, dapped up his friends, cracked jokes in the kitchen while snagging handfuls of chips. But all of it—every last bit—was background noise.

Because the second Everlyn walked through the door, it was like gravity shifted.

She was wearing a soft, oversized crewneck and jeans with a rip in the knee, nothing overly flashy or dramatic. Her hair was half up, half down, effortlessly undone, and she wore that familiar look of ease and lightheartedness that made her glow in every room.

Jack could barely breathe.

She looked beautiful. Not in the "done-up for a party" way, but in the "this is just who I am" way. She laughed with her whole body, tossing her head back when one of her friends made a joke, squealing when she missed her last cup in beer pong by a half inch. Every reaction was real—genuine, unfiltered, and full of life.

And Jack?

Jack was down bad.

He nursed a red solo cup and watched her from across the room, his gaze drifting back to her like a reflex. He tried to distract himself—mingled, played a game of flip cup, even tried talking to a girl from his grade who'd clearly been waiting for him to notice her. But none of it landed.

His attention was elsewhere. Always.

And then, at some point in the night—around 1:30 a.m., when the music had dipped into mellow territory and some people had already started crashing on couches—he realized he hadn't seen Everlyn in a while.

Like, a while.

It wasn't like her to just disappear without a word, especially not from a party like this. And something about that silence scratched at the back of his brain.

So Jack set his cup down and started looking.

He did a quick sweep of the main floor—kitchen, basement, backyard. Nothing. He passed by groups of people talking, laughing, someone snoring softly under a blanket on the recliner, but no sign of her. His steps grew quieter as he crept upstairs, the noise from below fading into a dull hum.

And that's when he found her.

The door to Luke's room was cracked slightly, soft light filtering out into the hallway. Jack pushed it open just enough to peek inside—and his heart stilled.

Everlyn was curled up on the far side of Luke's twin bed, one arm tucked beneath her head, the other resting gently across Luke's chest. The youngest Hughes was sound asleep, face relaxed in that vulnerable way only kids have when they're completely safe. A "Fast and the Furious" movie played quietly on the TV, Vin Diesel's voice barely audible over the low rumble of cars on screen.

Jack stood frozen in the doorway.

There she was. Not at the center of the party, not surrounded by friends or attention or lights—but here. With Luke. Tucked into a quiet room, keeping him company, protecting him in the smallest, softest way.

His throat tightened.

Behind him, he heard quiet footsteps and turned to find Quinn standing there, eyes a little glassy from a few drinks but still focused.

"She's been checking on him all night," Quinn said, voice low. "Kept sneaking upstairs just to make sure he was okay. I think he was a little overwhelmed with all the noise, and she didn't want him to feel left out. Ended up tucking him in about half an hour ago, I guess."

Jack didn't say anything at first. He just watched her for a moment longer, taking in the way her brow was slightly furrowed in sleep, how her fingers were still gently curled around the blanket like she didn't even realize she'd nodded off.

"She's got a big heart," Quinn added, clapping Jack softly on the back before heading downstairs again. "We're lucky to have her around."

Yeah, Jack thought, his pulse thudding. He really was.

Because in that moment, standing in the hallway with the light from Luke's room casting a soft glow over Everlyn's sleeping face, Jack Hughes fell just a little deeper into something he couldn't name.

It wasn't just the way she looked tonight. It was the way she was. The way she made herself small to protect others. The way she made herself present when no one else remembered to be.

The way she already cared for his family like it was her own.

And for Jack Hughes, there was nothing more important than family.

So yeah. His crush? It wasn't going anywhere.

Not now.

Not ever.

⸻

If Everlyn Briar had to make a list of the best days of her life, two moments would sit at the very top: Quinn's high school graduation, and the day he got drafted to the NHL.

Both days were drenched in joy, but for different reasons. Graduation felt like the end of a chapter, the beautiful culmination of everything they'd built together—study sessions, long nights, practice runs, pep talks in the hallway, inside jokes exchanged during fire drills. Draft day, though? That felt like the beginning of something. The launch of a dream.

And she was there for all of it.

She still remembered Quinn's graduation day like it was etched in sun. The weather was perfect—clear skies, a breeze just strong enough to ruffle the sea of navy blue gowns lined up in rows on the football field. Ellen was crying before the ceremony even started. Jim pretended not to be emotional, but she caught him wiping at his eyes with his sleeve more than once. Luke was the only one trying to play it cool, muttering about how boring the speeches were while secretly filming every second on his phone.

Everlyn sat with the Hughes family, sandwiched between Ellen and Luke, and beamed like it was her son crossing the stage. Her hands were sore from clapping, her cheeks aching from smiling, but she didn't care. Seeing Quinn walk across that stage, cap tilted slightly, grinning ear to ear as his name was called? That was her best friend. And she couldn't have been more proud.

That night, they went to prom together.

It wasn't romantic—not exactly. It was one of those things they'd decided months in advance, a casual promise made in between chemistry notes and late-night FaceTimes. But when the day came, and Everlyn stepped out of her car in a pastel yellow silk dress that caught the light like liquid sunshine, Jack had nearly dropped the bowl of cereal he was holding.

She was glowing. Absolutely glowing.

Quinn, to his credit, played it cool. He met her at the top of the driveway in a navy suit that matched her dress perfectly, his tie just slightly crooked, which she fixed with a teasing smile and a soft touch. Ellen took so many photos, shouting at them to get "just one more!" while Jim muttered something about missing the days when prom meant sitting on the couch with cartoons and juice boxes.

At prom, Everlyn and Quinn were the couple everyone pointed to—even if they weren't a couple at all. They danced to every song, even the slow ones. They laughed until their sides hurt, took blurry selfies, and snuck out early to get milkshakes at the diner down the street. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Quinn managed to snag a make-out session with a senior volleyball player (thanks to a little not-so-subtle wingwoman energy from Everlyn), and he spent the rest of the night grinning like he'd just scored the game-winning goal.

But the real crown jewel came a few weeks later: draft day.

Everlyn still remembered how tightly Quinn had gripped her hand that morning. They'd flown out west with the whole Hughes crew—Ellen, Jim, Jack, and Luke—and even though the energy was pure chaos, it felt like magic. The kind of day you knew would change everything.

The venue buzzed with anticipation. Reporters hovered like hawks, camera flashes strobing across the crowd. Families in tailored suits and perfectly curled hair. Players fiddling with their ties, bouncing their knees, checking their phones every five seconds.

But Quinn? He was steady. Calm. Like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.

Because he had.

And when Vancouver called his name—Quinn Hughes, selected seventh overall by the Vancouver Canucks—the room erupted. Ellen gasped. Jim clapped hard enough to sting. Jack yelled something indistinct, probably profane, over the roar of applause.

Everlyn?

She stood up so fast she knocked over her chair.

She threw her arms around him, and the hug they shared was the kind of thing you felt in your soul. Tight. Breathless. The kind of hug that said, we did it. That all the long nights and frustrations and growing pains were worth it. She buried her face in his shoulder and whispered, "I'm so proud of you," more times than she could count.

He hugged her back just as fiercely. "Couldn't have done it without you, Eve."

He meant it.

The hours that followed were a blur of interviews, handshakes, smiles, and congratulations. Quinn was passed around from one media outlet to the next, pulled into rooms with cameras and sponsors and flashbulbs. And in the swirl of it all, Everlyn found herself drifting toward the one person who felt just as out of place as she did.

Luke.

He was quieter than usual, maybe overwhelmed by the spotlight or just missing the familiarity of home. Either way, he stuck close to Everlyn's side, and she didn't mind one bit.

They wandered the venue together, sipping soda from plastic cups, taking photos with cardboard cutouts, watching the draft board update in real time. At one point, she let him lean his head on her shoulder, his hair slightly messy from his button-down shirt collar.

"You okay, bud?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Just... a lot."

She nodded. "I get it."

They didn't need to say much after that. Sometimes, comfort was just existing beside someone who didn't need you to explain how you were feeling. And Luke, in many ways, felt like the little brother she never had.

He'd called her "Evie" for the first time that day. Just once, slipping it in casually when she handed him a packet of Skittles from her purse.

It stuck.

And she didn't realize it then—but Jack had noticed.

He'd been across the room, getting a bottle of water, and he'd looked up just in time to see her crouched next to Luke, laughing at something he said. Her hand resting on his shoulder, eyes soft, her entire posture folded into care.

Jack hadn't said a word. Just watched.

And felt that same tight pull in his chest that had started months ago. The one that always showed up when she was near.

Because Everlyn wasn't just a part of their lives anymore.

She was their life.

And Jack Hughes was starting to wonder if he'd ever be able to untangle his heart from hers.

⸻

When Quinn left for Michigan, everything shifted.

It wasn't abrupt. More like the slow fade of background music when a scene ends. His absence was a quiet hum in the Hughes house, a space that felt too big without his voice filling it. His name was still spoken daily—on calls, in casual conversation, mentioned when Luke would repeat something funny his oldest brother used to say—but the energy had changed.

And with Quinn gone, so too was Everlyn's usual reason to be around.

She didn't disappear, not completely. Luke wouldn't let her. He texted her almost every day, sent her TikToks and memes, even guilt-tripped her with sad selfies captioned "you abandoned me" until she agreed to come by. Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons became their thing—quick visits that turned into full-day hangouts, movies on the couch, post-practice runs to the smoothie shop.

But it wasn't the same. Not like it used to be.

Until Jack had an idea.

Jack Hughes had always been the sharpest of the three brothers. His brain worked fast, calculated odds like a chess master on a sugar high. And when he realized Everlyn's visits were becoming fewer and farther between, he knew he had to do something.

So, naturally, he tanked a math exam.

Not completely—just enough to raise a few parental eyebrows. He followed it up with a lazy English quiz and a conveniently "forgotten" science worksheet. By the end of the week, Ellen was concerned, Luke was suspicious, and Jack was already plotting his next move.

"I think I need help," he told his mom with carefully rehearsed sincerity. "Like... tutoring help."

Ellen blinked. "You? You've had straight A's since third grade."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "Maybe I peaked early."

Ellen didn't question it further. Within an hour, she was on the phone with Everlyn, practically begging her to step in.

And when she agreed? Jack almost jumped out of his seat in joy. Almost.

The first tutoring session was a masterclass in subtlety.

He showed up with his notebook wide open, pencil twirling between his fingers, and an expression that screamed I'm totally lost. Everlyn raised a brow the moment she saw his notes—color-coded, flawlessly organized, every assignment completed with precision.

"Okay, Einstein," she said, smirking as she slid into the chair across from him. "What exactly do you need help with?"

Jack scratched the back of his neck, doing his best impression of a sheepish student. "Literally everything."

But Everlyn wasn't just smart—she was Everlyn. She saw through him within the first ten minutes.

Especially when he started "accidentally" getting easy questions wrong, or pretending to mix up formulas he clearly had memorized. At one point, she gave him a pop quiz on vocabulary and he aced it in under a minute. His face turned the lightest shade of pink when she smiled at him afterward, tilting her head like she was onto something.

She never called him out.

Not once.

She just played along. Grinned when he fumbled a fake answer. Rolled her eyes when he exaggerated his confusion. And when the session ended, she leaned in with that same mischievous spark in her eyes and said, "By the way... we've got a home game Friday. You should come."

Jack blinked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, grabbing her bag. "I'll save you a seat."

He went.

And he didn't stop going after that.

Watching her play was... something else. She was electric on the court. All 5'6 of her moving with fire and finesse, jumping higher than anyone expected, hitting balls with a precision that made the crowd gasp. Jack sat in the stands with Luke, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, trying to look nonchalant while fighting the urge to stand every time she scored.

She was fierce. Fearless. Unstoppable.

It did things to him.

After her games, she'd find him outside the gym, sweaty and glowing and absolutely radiant. Sometimes she'd toss him a teasing smile, asking, "Did I impress?" like she didn't already know the answer. And he'd say something dumb like, "You were okay," just to make her roll her eyes.

He loved when she rolled her eyes at him.

In return, she started showing up to his games. Sometimes she'd sit beside Luke, sometimes she'd bring one of her friends. Once, she even wore his NTDP jersey over her sweatshirt—completely nonchalant, like it meant nothing.

It meant everything. Seeing her in the stands with his name and number on her back sent shivers down his spine. 

Jack played like he had something to prove when she was in the crowd. Moved faster. Sharper. Pushed harder. His coaches noticed, his teammates noticed. He noticed.

And God, she was really starting to know his world too. She could match Trevor's chaotic energy beat for beat, holding her own against his wildest banter. Cole Caufield called her "the team MVP" after she roasted three of them during a team dinner. They adored her. Everyone adored her.

Jack wasn't even jealous. Just in awe.

He watched her laugh with his friends, toss popcorn at Luke, joke with his mom, and still somehow make time for him—quiet moments in the car, shared glances across the room, inside jokes exchanged through nothing but a look.

They were becoming close. Real friends.

And maybe that should've been enough.

But it wasn't.

Because somewhere between the tutoring sessions and the post-game fries, Jack's feelings had spiraled into something he couldn't hide anymore. Not from himself. Not from the way his stomach flipped when she touched his arm. Not from the way his pulse picked up when she said his name a little too softly.

He was falling for her. Fast.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Because she was leaving soon. Graduation was around the corner. College applications were already in, and she'd been talking about campuses in other states. Other coasts. Her life was about to expand in ways his couldn't touch yet.

And Jack?

He was just starting to feel like she saw him as more than Quinn's little brother.

So now, every laugh they shared felt a little too short. Every hug a little too brief. Every goodbye a little too heavy.

He knew the clock was ticking.

But God, if he could just freeze time for a little while longer... just a few more "tutoring"sessions, a few more late-night texts, a few more games where she wore his name on her back...

Maybe he could find the courage to tell her how he felt.

Before it was too late.

⸻

She was gone now.

Off chasing sunshine in California, trading small-town hallways for sprawling palm trees and crowded lecture halls. UCLA looked good on Everlyn—of course it did. Top volleyball program. Dream business school. A campus that buzzed with potential. It was everything she had worked for, everything she deserved.

But for Jack Hughes?

It felt like something had been hollowed out of him the moment she left.

He didn't say goodbye like he should have. Not really. He gave her one last hug, half-sincere, half-guarded, a little too quick. He told her to have fun. She promised to keep in touch. She didn't look back when she got in the car.

And then she was gone.

Jack tried to pretend it didn't affect him. He threw himself into hockey, training harder than ever in preparation for his draft year. He focused on speed, strength, footwork—anything to keep his mind off the ache that curled around his ribs every time he caught a glimpse of her old volleyball hoodie in the laundry room.

But autopilot only lasted so long.

Luke was quieter too. Less sunshine, more shadow. He didn't say it out loud, but Jack could feel it—Everlyn's absence hung in the Hughes house like a missing puzzle piece. Meals were quieter. Weekend movie nights didn't feel the same. Even Ellen had made a comment once, half-joking, "I miss our fourth child."

Jack missed her in ways he didn't have words for. Missed the way she used to steal fries off his plate. The way her laugh bounced down the stairs before she did. The way she made everything—everyone—feel lighter.

And then came Thanksgiving.

Quinn was coming home from Michigan. That was expected. The house had been buzzing with preparations all week—Ellen bustling through the kitchen, Jim dusting off the leaf for the dining room table, Luke threatening to eat the pie before it was even baked. Jack was looking forward to it, sure. But even the idea of a full Hughes reunion couldn't quite lift the haze that had settled in his chest since September.

Until the door opened.

And everything stopped.

It was Quinn standing there, his suitcase by his side, a trimmed beard on his jaw that made him look more like a man than a teenager. He grinned wide, stepping into the warmth of the house, pulling Luke into a one-armed hug.

But Jack barely registered his brother's return.

Because behind Quinn, suitcase in hand, stood Everlyn.

Her hair was longer now, sun-kissed and wavy in a way that only California could do. She wore an oversized hoodie with her school's logo on the sleeve and that same soft expression she always had when she was trying not to cry from happiness.

Time froze.

And then it crashed into motion.

Quinn stepped aside just in time for Everlyn to drop her bag and launch herself into Jack's arms.

"You're here," he whispered into her shoulder, voice rougher than he meant it to be.

"Of course I'm here," she murmured back. "Where else would I be?"

She smelled like vanilla and travel and something achingly familiar. Jack didn't let himself hold her for more than a second too long—but God, did he want to.

Then came Luke, barreling down the stairs like he'd been summoned by fate itself. "EVE!"

She barely had time to turn before he was lifting her off the ground, arms wrapped tight around her waist.

"Missed you so much," he blurted, voice muffled against her hoodie. "You're not allowed to leave again. I'm serious. I'll hide your passport. I'll chain your suitcase to the water heater."

She laughed, and something in the house shifted back into place.

Home.

That's what she was. What she had always been.

Jack stood back and watched her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. She still looked at him the same way—fond, soft, maybe a little amused. And he'd gotten better at hiding how her gaze lit a fire under his skin. Better at swallowing the lump that rose in his throat when she was near.

She knew, of course.

Of course she knew.

She was Everlyn Briar. Too observant. Too intuitive. She could solve calculus in her head and read body language like a second language. Jack's not-so-subtle stares. The way he hovered near her but never quite reached. The way he smiled too hard when she was around.

And Quinn? He knew too. Jack could feel it in the sideways glances, the way his older brother's smirk would twitch upward anytime Jack so much as offered to get Eve a drink.

But no one said anything.

Because Jack never said anything.

And maybe that's why nothing ever happened.

The weekend was a blur of traditions and warmth. They ran the annual turkey trot that morning—Jack and Luke sprinting ahead like maniacs, Everlyn laughing breathlessly as she tried to keep up. They came home to Ellen's legendary spread: turkey so tender it fell apart, stuffing soaked in butter, mashed potatoes Jack would defend with his life.

It was loud. It was chaotic. It was perfect.

And when the night wound down, it felt almost scripted.

Just like old times, Everlyn slipped upstairs after dessert, claiming she was "just checking on Luke." And just like always, no one questioned it. She found him curled up in bed with the newest Fast and Furious playing, already half-asleep.

She climbed in beside him without a second thought.

Jack found them later, lights dimmed, movie credits rolling. Luke snoring softly. Everlyn curled against him, one hand draped protectively over her like Luke was afraid she would disappear if he let go. 

It made his heart ache in ways he didn't know how to name.

Because for the first time in months, everyone was home.

Everyone.

And still, something about her felt impossibly far away.

⸻

Time had a strange way of looping in on itself.

One minute, she was cheering for Quinn on his draft day, wiping away tears in between interviews and snapshots, her dress wrinkled from hugging everyone in sight. And then—just like that—it was years later, and she was back in that familiar whirlwind. Only this time, it wasn't Quinn's name echoing through the arena.

It was Luke's.

She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. Really, she had. She made it halfway through the morning with dry eyes and a steady smile. But the second his name was called—Luke Hughes, drafted to the New Jersey Devils—it was over.

A mess. A disaster, honestly.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, breath catching in her throat, trying desperately not to smudge the mascara she'd put on with care. Josh Norris had leaned over halfway through the ceremony, gently tapping her shoulder with a tissue and whispering, "Don't worry, he's the last Hughes to be drafted so you won't have to do this all over again next year."

She laughed through her tears.

Because this moment—this—was sacred.

Luke was beaming next to his buzzing brothers up front, his hands shaking just slightly as he held up his new jersey. And her heart swelled with something fierce and maternal, the same way it had when he was thirteen and scared to come downstairs to a party, when she tucked him in during Fast & Furious marathons, when he looked at her like she hung the stars just for him.

He was grown now. Taller. Broader. More confident. He was mature. Luke Hughes was no longer the little boy she once met. 

He was a man now.

But he'd still held her hand before the draft started.

Still leaned into her shoulder when the nerves kicked in.

Still whispered, "I'm glad you're here," like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

She had always been a safe space for him. And she always would be.

⸻

Jack had changed too.

Not overnight. Not all at once. But the slow kind of change that creeps in between seasons. Years had passed. His name had been called. His life had launched in ways most people only dreamed about.

And with every new city, every new headline, every new spotlight—he still thought about her.

They stayed in touch. Little messages. Summer meet-ups. Inside jokes exchanged over text. But distance made it easier to push those feelings away. He had flings, distractions, moments of temporary interest. He convinced himself it had passed.

That what he felt for her was just nostalgia.

Until she came back.

She graduated from UCLA in 2022—business degree, communications minor, a resumé that practically glittered. And then, in the kind of twist only the universe could write, she landed her first job in New Jersey. A start-up company. PR and account management. Fast-paced. Groundbreaking. Local.

Jack didn't find out until a week after she moved in.

He meant to message her first. He really did. But time slipped, and she was adjusting, and he didn't want to seem overeager.

Until she received a package at her new apartment. No note. No message. Just a red New Jersey Devils jersey—his jersey—and two tickets to their home opener.

He knew she'd understand.

And she did.

⸻

That night, she walked into the Prudential Center and it felt like the world had hit rewind. Only this time, the crowd was bigger. Louder. Older. And Jack? Jack wasn't a boy anymore.

He was Jack Hughes now.

Franchise face. Highlight reel superstar.

And the second she saw him skate out onto the ice, she felt her heart stop for a beat.

Because he wasn't the lanky, backwards-hat-wearing teenager who used to fake bad grades just to sit beside her. He was taller now. Broader. His movements were sharp, calculated. Every stride held purpose. The crowd roared and chanted his name when he touched the puck. He didn't just play hockey. He commanded it.

She couldn't take her eyes off him.

And he?

He felt her the second she stepped into the arena.

Didn't see her at first. But he felt her. Like gravity.

After the win, he found her in the tunnel. Same smile. Same soft eyes. But different now. Grown. Glowing.

"Hey, stranger," she said, tugging lightly at the jersey he'd sent.

He laughed, that same dopey grin breaking across his face. "Looks better on you."

They hugged—longer than they should have. He smelled like ice and sweat and home. And when they pulled back, something unspoken lingered in the air between them. A pause. A beat. Something that had never quite gone away.

They went out for drinks after, just the two of them. A quiet bar, warm lights, quiet music humming in the background. He looked different here too. Not just older—steadier. The way he carried himself, the way he ordered her drink without asking, the way he leaned back and watched her talk like he was cataloging every word.

He wasn't cocky. Just... sure of himself.

It was attractive. She wouldn't lie.

And Jack? Jack felt like he had been punched in the chest.

Because she was even more beautiful now. Effortlessly radiant. Still that same warmth, still that same grace. But there was something new too—something confident, something grown.

He kept staring at her. In the flicker of candlelight, with her hand curled around her glass and her lips curved in that same soft smile, Jack felt like he was sixteen all over again.

Breathless.

Totally wrecked.

Totally in love.

And it scared the hell out of him.

⸻

They made it a tradition—weekly coffee runs, dinner or drinks after games, late-night walks through the city. She fit into his world like she always had. Seamlessly.

She met the team. Jesper pulled her into a bear hug like they hadn't missed a day. Dawson was polite and immediately impressed. And Nico? Nico looked like he was about to make a move—until he caught Jack watching her.

Just one look.

That's all it took.

No one made a move after that. No one had to.

Because it was obvious.

She was Jack's girl.

Maybe not officially.

Maybe not yet.

But everyone knew.

Especially him.

⸻

It started the way it always did—with a ticket.

Every home game, like clockwork, Jack left two tickets for Everlyn at will call. No message. No pressure. Just a quiet gesture, a ritual of theirs that said you're welcome here. Always. And she'd used the first one nearly every time.

But the second?

She never had. Until now.

Jack's world tilted the second he saw her walk through the tunnel with someone else by her side.

He was tall. Blonde. Crisp linen shirt. One of those designer watches that practically screamed my dad plays golf with your CEO. The kind of guy you'd expect to see ordering a $19 martini and not blinking. His name was Jordan, and he shook Jack's hand with the kind of over-firm grip that tried too hard to say something.

Jack didn't flinch, but God, he wanted to.

Jordan asked questions like he was running an interview—"How's the ice this season? Do you ever get recognized on the street?"—and Jack answered through clenched teeth, polite but cold. He watched as Jordan rested a hand on Everlyn's back, too casual, too familiar. She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Still, Jack put on the happy face.

Because that's what he did. He wasn't going to ruin anything for her—not now, not ever. She looked happy. And if that was real... well, then Jack could deal with it. He'd spent years pushing those feelings to the back of his mind. What was a few more months?

But it was a few more months.

And Jordan didn't go anywhere.

He became a fixture. At games. At dinners. Tagging along to post-game drinks, always ordering for the table like he knew what everyone wanted. Everlyn still made time for Jack, but it was different now. Tighter. More filtered. Coffee dates became his favorite part of the week—not because they were exciting, but because they were just her. No Jordan. No compromise.

Just them.

Just how he liked it.

⸻

The lake house in Michigan was supposed to be a sanctuary.

It always had been. A safe haven carved into the summers. A place where the Hughes brothers could take a breath, train hard, play harder, and be surrounded by the people who made the noise feel quiet.

It was Quinn's idea to bring everyone together that summer—an annual tradition, their own off-season camp that just so happened to include boats, beers, and more competitive tubing than anyone should legally survive.

The house buzzed with energy. Quinn had his old teammates in town—Josh and Dalton Norris, all heart and chaos. Luke brought his crew from Michigan—Dylan Duke, Mark Estapa, Ethan Edwards, each of them slipping seamlessly into the rhythm of the house. Jack, of course, had Trevor and Turcs, whose personalities were basically caffeine personified.

And Everlyn?

She brought Jordan.

The mood shifted the second they arrived. Jordan barely greeted anyone before making a beeline for the deck, muttering something about needing to "take it easy" after the drive. The Hughes boys watched Eve with subtle worry, noting the way her shoulders tensed, the way she scanned the room like she was looking for permission to be herself again.

They tried to bring her in. Quinn cracked a beer and started loading up the boat. Jack blasted a playlist of her favorite cheesy country songs. Luke ran to get the rope for tubing.

"Come on," Quinn called out, tossing her a life jacket with a grin. "Let's get out there."

She smiled—small, tight—but before she could step forward, Jordan touched her wrist.

"You don't have to go, babe. I was hoping we could chill here, have a drink or two. You've been talking about relaxing all week."

The way he said it wasn't cruel. Just expectant.

And Everlyn, as always, folded.

"Yeah," she said, her voice barely above the waves. "That sounds nice."

She took the jacket off. Handed it back to Quinn. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

The brothers all exchanged a look.

Jordan hadn't just dimmed her light—he was stomping it out, slowly.

⸻

Quinn didn't wait long.

As soon as Jordan disappeared back to Jersey, he pulled Everlyn aside. They slipped down the dock together, away from the buzz of the house and the music, until it was just the lapping of the water and the heaviness of unspoken words.

He didn't sugarcoat it.

"You're not okay," he said.

She froze. "Quinn..."

"You don't laugh the same. You don't light up the way you used to. I watched you talk yourself out of joining the boat like you were doing him a favor for existing."

She blinked hard. "It's complicated."

"No, it's not. He's not your partner, Eve. He's your leash."

That broke her.

Her lip trembled. She turned away for a second like she could hide it, but Quinn stepped forward, pulled her into a hug, and the truth spilled out like water over a dam.

It was like this in Jersey. Jordan always had a reason why she shouldn't go out. Why she should stay in. He didn't trust the hockey scene. Didn't like her independence. The lake house made him uncomfortable. Her made him uncomfortable.

Quinn listened, jaw clenched.

"You don't deserve this," he said firmly. "You never did. You're allowed to be loved out loud, Everlyn. Not hidden. Not controlled."

She cried. God, she cried.

But when she went to bed that night, her decision was already made.

⸻

The next morning, she called Jordan.

She ended it. Direct. No stalling. No soft exit.

He didn't take it well.

He accused her—accused her of having feelings for one of the Hughes boys. "It's always been one of them, hasn't it? I should've known the second you made me come to this dumb lake house."

He hung up before she could say anything back.

And it hurt. It did. She was human, after all.

But she walked out onto the dock not five minutes later, barefoot, hoodie over her bikini, and looked out at the water where Jack and Trevor were laughing on the boat. The sun was shining. The breeze was warm. Luke waved at her from the deck, and Quinn handed her a beer with a proud smirk.

She was home.

And this time, there was no one telling her she couldn't enjoy it.

⸻

Jack couldn't stand it anymore.

Everlyn was smiling again, sure—but not the way she used to. Her laugh was a little quieter, her jokes a little softer, like she was afraid to take up too much space. She still had that spark, but it flickered instead of burned, like someone had dimmed her and walked away.

And Jack? Jack wanted to reignite her.

So he made it his mission to bring her back to life—one small act at a time.

He started with breakfast.

She always loved pancakes. He remembered that. Waffles were fine, but pancakes? Pancakes made her eyes light up. So every morning, when someone inevitably asked what to make for the house, Jack was the first to say it:

"Pancakes. Definitely."

He'd sneak her the last piece of bacon when no one was looking, tucking it onto her plate with a smirk. He'd always save her a seat next to him. And when the kitchen got too loud or crowded, he'd silently pass her the syrup like it was their secret language.

He got up early now, before the sun even stretched across the lake, because he knew she liked her morning runs. He'd tie his shoes and jog beside her, matching her pace, letting her pick the music. They didn't talk much—didn't need to. Just ran side by side, feet hitting the dirt road in quiet rhythm, breaths syncing up like clockwork.

He volunteered for errands now too. Grocery runs. Beer pick-ups. Ice refills.

"I'll go," he'd say casually. "Eve, wanna come?"

She always did.

They'd play music too loud in the car. Race to find the weirdest flavor of chips in the store. Argue over the right ratio of peanut butter to chocolate. He'd lean into her cart, throw in random things just to make her laugh. Her smile was starting to come back, slowly, piece by piece.

And Jack? Jack was falling all over again.

⸻

The fire crackled as the night crept in.

They'd spent all day out on the boat—tubing, flipping off docks, laughing until their stomachs hurt. By the time the sun dipped below the trees, everyone was sun-drenched, half-tipsy, and high on that unbeatable summer haze.

So naturally, they circled the fire pit.

Everyone gathered on the chairs or sprawled out on blankets, drinks in hand, cheeks still flushed from the sun. The playlist was low in the background, country twang giving way to soft indie beats. Someone tossed another log onto the fire, and the stories began.

First came the classics—Quinn's worst playoff beard attempts, Trevor's infamous grocery store prank, Jack's rookie year mishaps. Then came Luke's awkward high school phase, complete with dramatic reenactments of him failing to talk to girls at school dances.

Luke rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Yeah? Well you did the exact same thing when you first met Eve."

Everyone paused.

"You couldn't even sit next to her at dinner for months," Luke went on, completely unbothered. "Because you had such a massive crush on her."

Jack felt the color drain from his face, then immediately return with a vengeance.

The fire masked most of it, but the way his ears burned gave him away.

"OHHHH," Turc and Zegras chorused at the same time. "NO WAY."

Jack laughed a little too hard, trying to brush it off. "That's such a lie, Luke. C'mon."

But then Eve turned toward him, eyes soft, a smile creeping onto her lips. She looked at Quinn first—he gave a knowing nod—and then gently placed her hand on Jack's back.

"It's okay, Jack," she said sweetly. "I thought it was cute. But you were really bad at hiding it."

Dead. He was dead.

"You knew?" Jack asked, face frozen in panic.

"Of course I knew," she said with a small laugh. "I've always known."

And as if that wasn't enough to end him entirely, Ellen strolled out of the house with a tray of cookies and chimed in with perfect timing:

"Oh, Jack. Everyone knew."

The chorus of "OOOOHHHHH!" exploded around the fire.

Trevor nearly fell off his chair. Quinn tossed a marshmallow at Jack's head. Luke looked smug as hell. Jack buried his face in his hands, muttering something about never showing his face again.

It was harmless. All in good fun.

But the second the teasing died down and the yawns started, people began peeling off into bedrooms, one by one. The lake grew quieter, the fire dimming to embers.

And Jack stayed behind.

⸻

He sat there alone, elbows on knees, head tilted back to watch the stars. The air was still warm, but the night felt heavy in a way that pressed on his chest.

She knew. This whole time. He'd spent years hiding feelings he thought would ruin everything—only to find out that she'd seen them from the start.

And she hadn't run. She hadn't pushed him away.

She thought it was cute.

"God," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "I'm such an idiot."

Then came the soft sound of feet on grass.

A blanket settled across his shoulders. A familiar head rested gently against his own.

He looked down and saw her—Everlyn, curled into his side, wrapped in the same blanket, her cheek against his shoulder. Barefaced, makeup long gone, hoodie pulled over her knees.

"Don't worry about it, Jacky," she whispered. "I thought it was adorable. I thought you were adorable."

His heart flat-out stopped.

She thought he was cute too.

He blinked, eyes wide, trying to process what those words meant. What this meant. Her voice was low and sleepy, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in it.

She hadn't said it to tease him. She meant it.

Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, letting her warmth melt into his side. She didn't flinch. Didn't move. Just sighed and settled in.

His hand rested at the small of her back, thumb brushing the fabric of her hoodie. His heart was racing.

She always took care of them—of everyone. Always made sure Luke had what he needed, that Quinn had someone to ground him, that Jack didn't feel invisible. She was the glue, the safety net, the one who never let herself fall until she knew they were all okay.

And the thought that she had spent so long dimming herself for someone who couldn't see her? Who wouldn't see her?

It made Jack's jaw clench.

He'd been there. Right there. And he hadn't stepped in. Hadn't spoken up. He'd let her walk through that alone because he was too scared of what it would mean for him.

Never again.

Not after this.

⸻

Things had found their rhythm again.

Back in Jersey, back in their bubble, back in that comfortable hum of familiarity that made every day feel like a deep breath. But this time, there was something more. Something better.

Because now Luke was here too.

Everlyn had 2 out of 3 Hughes boys back under one roof, and it was like someone had finally returned the missing pieces of her soul. She hadn't realized how lonely she'd been until her days were filled again—trips to the rink, late-night Mario Kart tournaments, homemade pasta nights where Jack burned the garlic bread and Luke put entirely too much cheese in the sauce.

It was chaos. It was home.

They shared a three-bedroom apartment in Hoboken with a view of the skyline and a couch that had seen more naps than conversations. When they signed the lease, Luke had casually mentioned the third room being for "hockey gear or guests," but they all knew the truth.

That room was hers.

She didn't officially live there. Not on paper. But she might as well have. Her stuff was in the drawers. Her favorite cereal was on the shelf. Her slippers were by the door. Half her wardrobe was draped across the back of the desk chair. She came and went freely, sometimes staying a night, sometimes staying a week, no one ever asking when she'd be back—because they already knew.

That room would always be waiting.

It was one of the few places in the world where she never had to ask if she belonged.

⸻

One night, she was actually home in her own apartment—a rare occurrence, considering how often she found herself curled up on the Hughes' couch with a blanket and a mug of something warm. She had just gotten out of the shower, wrapped in her comfiest robe, hair twisted up in a towel, when her phone rang.

Quinn.

It started with the usual—how was your day, did you eat, how's the new campaign going, tell Luke to call his mother. But somewhere between casual updates and light teasing, the conversation shifted. Deepened. As it always did with Quinn, eventually.

"I've been thinking about... Jordan," she admitted quietly, eyes focused on the ceiling.

Quinn didn't interrupt. Just waited.

"I just—I feel stupid," she said. "I let him control so much. I let him talk me out of things I loved. I let him make me feel small. And I knew better. I always knew better."

"Evie."

His voice was soft. Steady.

"You're not stupid. You're human. And you left. That's the hard part. You did it."

She swallowed. "It still makes me feel like I lost a year of myself."

"You didn't lose it," he said. "You reclaimed it. One day at a time."

There was a long silence.

Then, like it was nothing at all, Quinn added: "It was nice of Jack to make you smiling his top priority this summer."

Her heart paused.

She sat up a little straighter, eyebrows tugging together. "What?"

"Jack," Quinn repeated. "It was nice of him. To make sure you smiled again."

She opened her mouth, but no words came. Her thoughts were caught in a whirl—memories of pancakes, early morning runs, gas station trips, firelight laughter. The way Jack always showed up in exactly the way she needed.

Quinn continued, voice low and casual.

"He's a nice guy."

Everlyn narrowed her eyes. "I know that, Quinn. I grew up with him."

"No," Quinn said, and this time, his voice had a different weight to it. A quiet emphasis.

"I mean... he's nice."

She stilled.

It was such a simple word. But the way he said it—the subtle dip in tone, the almost affectionate cadence—shifted the meaning entirely.

It wasn't just about kindness. It was about care. The kind of nice that went deeper than polite gestures and well-mannered smiles. It was the kind that showed up when you needed it. The kind that held space without asking for anything in return.

Jack was nice.

He was thoughtful in a way most people weren't. Protective without being possessive. Gentle in a way that made you feel safe. He was the kind of man who made sure everyone else had what they needed before taking anything for himself. He remembered your favorite things and brought them home without saying a word. He loved quietly—but completely.

And suddenly, it hit her:

Jack had always been like that.

With her.

She hung up the call shortly after, claiming she was tired. But sleep never came easy that night.

She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, Quinn's words echoing like ripples in her chest.

He's nice.

Jack, who always made sure her coffee was right.

Jack, who checked her tires when it snowed.

Jack, who gave her space when she needed it, and warmth when she didn't know she did.

Jack, who never stopped showing up.

She turned her head, looking at the empty side of her bed.

And she thought: Am I crazy?

Was she insane for even considering it? For letting her thoughts wander into dangerous territory? For entertaining the possibility that maybe—just maybe—the boy she'd grown up with, the one who had waited and waited without ever saying it out loud, could be the one she was supposed to see all along?

She rolled onto her side, clutching the pillow to her chest, eyes heavy with questions.

What if she ruined it?

What if she broke the family that saved her?

And worse... what if he didn't feel the same anymore?

What if she had waited too long?

⸻

The annual charity gala had always been part of the routine.

One of those must-attend events on the Devils' calendar. Glitz, glam, donors, handshakes, perfectly staged photo ops—and beneath all that, a chance to raise money for good causes. Jack had done a few now. Eve had come with him to the last one, and the arrangement had always been easy. Casual. Fun.

This year? Different.

She could feel it. In her chest. In her stomach. In the way she stood a little too long in front of the mirror trying to decide between earrings. It had started subtly—just a thought, a whisper of a feeling—but after that conversation with Quinn, it was like a switch had flipped.

She was aware now. Hyper-aware. Of how Jack looked at her. Of how he always waited for her to walk through the door first. Of how he always held her things, brought her snacks, fixed her laces when she wore shoes with ties. Things he'd always done... but things that now screamed louder.

He was nice. But not just that. Not anymore.

He was steady. Thoughtful. Quietly romantic in ways that weren't about flowers or fanfare—but about presence. Constant, unwavering presence.

And for the first time, she wondered what it meant that he never expected anything in return.

⸻

They were supposed to go as a trio—her, Jack, and Luke. But then Luke had the audacity to fall in love and get himself a girlfriend, leaving Everlyn to go solo with Jack. She'd teased him about it for a full week, but truthfully... it made her nervous.

This wasn't just another event. Not this time.

The lead-up felt different. More intimate. Jack had taken her shopping, trailing behind her in boutiques, giving honest feedback with that same crooked grin. He didn't complain once, even when she tried on twelve different dresses and only narrowed it down to two. He just watched. Waited. Carried her purse and snacks and made sure she didn't talk herself out of something she loved.

They picked her gown together.

A maroon silk number that hugged her curves and dipped just low enough to be elegant without being too much. It made her skin glow. It made his mouth go dry.

She said yes to it when he whispered, "That's the one," with a look in his eyes that stayed with her all night.

⸻

The day of the gala, Everlyn turned their shared space into her own personal glam studio. She spread her makeup across the bathroom counter, curled her hair in sections, and took deep, grounding breaths every few minutes to keep from spiraling into full-on nerves.

It didn't help that Jack was being Jack.

Bringing her little snacks every hour like clockwork.

A granola bar. A handful of grapes. A pack of those crackers she loved from the bodega.

He kept her water bottle full, placing it within reach like it was part of the process. "Drink," he'd remind her with a little tap on the shoulder. "No dehydration meltdowns today."

She couldn't help but smile at him. He was in sweats and a hoodie, hair tousled, lounging on the couch while she transformed herself into someone worthy of red carpets.

She didn't know it, but Jack was suffering.

He kept stealing glances through the half-open door, catching flashes of her bare shoulders, the soft shape of her face under golden bathroom light. She was already stunning, and she wasn't even done yet.

When she finally stepped out—hair swept into a soft updo, makeup glowing, maroon gown clinging in all the right places—Jack stopped breathing.

No exaggeration.

She walked into the living room and time froze.

Luke was the first to recover, standing up with a big smile. "Whoa. You look incredible, Eve."

She smiled, smoothing her dress down nervously. "Thanks, Lukey."

Jack?

He was just standing there, mouth slightly open, staring like he'd never seen a woman before.

Because he hadn't. Not like this.

This wasn't just Everlyn, his best friend, the girl who made pancakes and knew how he liked his coffee. This was Everlyn, the woman. Powerful. Elegant. Ethereal.

Maroon and gold and glowing from the inside out.

He stepped forward slowly, all black tux hugging him perfectly—hair freshly cut and styled, thanks to her insistence, and now gelled into something polished but still him.

"You..." he finally managed, voice rough. "You look unreal."

Her cheeks flushed, and for a moment they just stood there, looking at each other, the noise of the apartment fading into silence.

"I had help," she said softly, nodding toward him. "You picked the dress, remember?"

"Still," he murmured. "Doesn't feel real."

And the way he looked at her then?

It was reverent.

Not hungry. Not lustful. Just... soft. In awe.

Like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

And maybe she was.

⸻

The gala started the same as every other year.

Bright lights. Sparkling gowns. Clinking glasses. Jack and Everlyn moved through the crowd like they always had—effortlessly side by side. He guided her gently through the sea of donors and sponsors, a hand resting on the small of her back like he'd always belonged there.

But this time... that simple touch felt different.

It was warm. Steady. Firm in a way that made her feel held—not just escorted. Not just shown off.

Protected.

And Everlyn couldn't stop thinking about it.

Jack chatted easily, charming everyone as usual, but her body was attuned to him. The whisper of his palm. The careful way he shifted her gently toward conversations. The pride in his voice when he introduced her as his date—even if it was unspoken, unofficial.

She didn't say anything. Couldn't.

Because every time she looked at him tonight, all she could hear was Quinn's voice in her head.

He's nice.

Not just nice. Jack Hughes nice. The kind of nice that meant pancakes in the morning and water bottles filled without asking. The kind that stood beside you silently until you were ready to speak.

And right now, he was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time—even though he'd always seen her.

⸻

The DJ opened the floor for slow dances, and Jack didn't hesitate.

He turned to her with a soft, crooked smile. "Come on."

They'd danced together before. Plenty of times. It had never meant anything before. But now? As they found their spot on the dance floor, facing each other, hands tentatively finding their place—it meant everything.

The music hummed low, a soft melody that wrapped around them like a secret. Her hand slipped into his, the other resting on his shoulder. Jack's free arm slid around her waist with quiet confidence.

And then... stillness.

They were swaying. They were dancing. But all Jack could focus on was the way Everlyn was looking at him.

Intensely. Softly. Like she was searching for something and finding it in his face.

He studied her—tried to decode it. Her eyes were locked on his like she couldn't look away. And for the first time in all the years he'd known her, he realized she was finally seeing him back.

"What's on your mind, Evie?" he asked, voice just above a whisper.

She didn't answer.

She just kept looking at him. Drinking him in. Her mind was running wild—flashing through every moment that had led them here.

The shy dinners when he couldn't look her in the eye. The fake bad grades. The way he always showed up. Every summer spent putting her first. Every little thing she'd brushed off as "just Jack being Jack."

But now she understood.

He'd been in love with her this whole time.

And she'd missed it.

She swallowed, breath hitching. "You," she said softly.

Jack blinked. "Me?"

"I can't stop thinking about you."

He stared, stunned. Heart leaping. Breath catching. He scanned her face again and again, like he needed confirmation that this was real—that she was real.

And then it hit him.

The look in her eyes.

The one he'd been wearing for years.

She had it now. That open, unfiltered, aching gaze that he used to hide behind smirks and excuses. She was seeing him—really, truly seeing him—and God, it made his chest burn.

The song ended, but Jack didn't hear the music stop. The room disappeared. His grip on her hand tightened as the MC's voice faded into the background.

They returned to their table, but Jack couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe.

He was spinning.

Eve sat beside him, her hand resting on top of his. It wasn't new. Not really. But tonight, it was loaded. Charged. Different.

Jack needed air.

⸻

He slipped out without a word and found himself on the rooftop.

The city stretched beneath him, lights flickering, the hum of cars far below. He paced, hand tugging at the collar of his tux, heart pounding out of rhythm.

He was scared. Not of her—but of hope.

Because this was everything he wanted.

And that's when he heard it.

The door opened with a soft click.

He turned—and there she was.

Glistening in moonlight. Her maroon gown catching the breeze. Her updo slightly loosened from the night. Her eyes... locked on his.

They didn't speak.

Didn't need to.

The air between them was thick with unsaid things. It wasn't silence. It was a conversation without words. A thousand unspoken truths floating between them like stars.

Jack looked at her like she held the answers to questions he hadn't dared ask. And Everlyn looked at him like she finally, finally understood what was right in front of her.

And then—they ran.

No hesitation. No overthinking. Just gravity.

They met in the middle. Arms around each other. Breathless. Shaking.

Their foreheads pressed together. Their hands clung tight.

"Jack..." she whispered, barely breathing.

He closed his eyes, voice cracking. "I know, Everlyn... I know."

And then—he kissed her.

Years of waiting, of wondering, of almosts and maybes—gone.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't polished. But it was everything. His hands clung to her waist like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. Her hands framed his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks like she was memorizing the feel of him.

The city roared beneath them.

But up there, on that rooftop, it was silent.

Just two hearts, finally meeting in the middle.

Just two souls, saying what words never could.

⸻

It had been over a year since that night on the rooftop.

Since the city went quiet, and Everlyn stopped running, and Jack finally stopped waiting.

Since the moment their hearts collided in the most certain kind of way—the kind that didn't need promises made with words, because it was all written in the way they looked at each other.

Since then, nothing had been the same.

And yet—everything felt like home.

Every morning, Jack woke up with that same quiet awe he'd had since he was fifteen. The way she hummed while brushing her teeth. The way she'd press her forehead to his before leaving for work. The way she poured her love into everything around her without hesitation or fear.

Every day, he fell harder. Every day, he chose her again.

And Everlyn? She felt like she'd finally exhaled.

Jack Hughes was steady. Warm. Deeply kind in the ways no one else got to see. And he loved her in a way that didn't demand attention—but deserved every bit of it. There was no show, no need for validation. Just him. Quietly hers.

They had made a life together. Not flashy. Not perfect. But theirs.

⸻

It was summer again.

Which meant one thing: the Hughes Lake House was alive.

It was tradition at this point. Offseason hit, and the boys flocked to Michigan like it was a pilgrimage. Quinn was already there, helping Ellen prep bedrooms. Luke had brought a handful of friends from around the league—Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith had become the wide-eyed younger brothers of the group overnight. The Tkachuk brothers had showed up in full chaos mode. And Jack had pulled together the old NTDP gang, making it feel like high school and the NHL were blending into one summer-long sleepover.

The lake house was laughter. Inside jokes. The smell of sunscreen and grilled food and dock water. The soundtrack was country music, clinking beers, and the occasional "WHO let Matthew drive the boat?!"

For the rookies, it was a dream. For the veterans, it was therapy.

And for Everlyn?

It was heaven.

She had her hands full—braiding wet hair, making sure no one left without sunscreen, yelling across the dock to make sure Macklin and Will weren't about to snap their necks trying new wakeboard tricks.

She was the same Eve she'd always been—loving and giving, with open arms and no limit to the space in her heart. She even tucked the rookies in like she had done for Luke all those years ago. Whispering reminders in the dark like,

"You don't have to lose who you are to belong here." "If you can't be yourself with someone, that's not someone worth staying for."

Words she'd once needed herself.

⸻

Jack stood at the door that night, watching her speak to Macklin and Will.

She was seated cross-legged on the living room floor, her maroon hoodie slipping off one shoulder, still in her swimsuit from earlier. Her voice was soft. Reassuring. Patient.

Jack felt his chest ache.

Because God, he loved her.

More than he'd ever loved anything in his life.

She was light. She was grace. And somehow—she was his.

⸻

He found Quinn on the back deck not long after. The moonlight danced across the lake in silver ripples. The sound of crickets filled the quiet. Jack stepped beside him, hands in his pockets, heart full.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Until Jack broke the silence.

"She's... she's really..."

"I know," Quinn interrupted, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I know, Jack."

He turned toward him, eyes warm. "I'm so happy for you two. I always knew. But seeing it? It's different. It's real."

Jack laughed softly, almost shy.

"I have it picked out, you know..."

Quinn blinked. "What?"

Jack looked down. Kicked the toe of his shoe against the deck.

"The ring. I got it. Not for now. I want to wait a little longer, but... I just know. She's it. She's always been it. And I got it early as a promise. A vow. For when I'm ready. For when she's ready."

Quinn just stared at him. Then stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

It wasn't long. Wasn't loud.

But it was everything.

Two brothers, standing under a sky they grew up beneath, holding the future in their arms.

Inside, Eve stood in the kitchen, sipping from a mug of tea. She looked around at the house filled with laughter, light, and people she loved.

And her eyes found Jack through the window.

He was looking back at her.

And somehow, she knew.

[hockeyluvrr]

Hii I love this idea this is so creative!! I rolled a 2 and won a 6 w Jack Hughes🩷

ahh thank you, I was hoping to make it as creative as possible! thanks for requesting, hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

word count: 822

fluff prompt #6: "Stop moving, your hair's a mess. Let me fix it for you."

It had been a long day. The kind of day where your body ached from the hustle and bustle, and your mind could only handle the simplest of thoughts. Jack had come back from practice with a rare smile, even though his muscles were sore, and his hair was damp from sweat. His energy was almost contagious as he stretched on the couch, groaning in satisfaction as his muscles finally started to relax.

You sat across from him, feet tucked under you on the couch, scrolling through your phone with one eye on him. He’d kicked his shoes off, his legs stretched out and relaxed, and for once, he seemed content to just be in this quiet space with you.

As you watched him stretch his neck, you noticed his hair falling in a mess of damp curls around his face, sticking to his forehead.

"Stop moving," you said, your voice light and teasing, not entirely expecting a response. "Your hair’s a mess. Let me fix it for you."

Jack froze, turning his head toward you with an exaggerated look of confusion. "My hair’s fine," he grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I’m not some model, you know."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the playful banter between you two always putting a smile on your face. "Just let me do it," you insisted, leaning forward.

He shook his head but gave you that mischievous look you knew all too well. "You’re lucky I love you," he muttered, leaning back against the armrest, his posture relaxing again. "Fine, go ahead. But I’m warning you, it’s a mess under here."

You crossed the room to sit beside him, your hands already reaching up to touch the damp curls that had a mind of their own. His hair had always been a bit unruly, but that only made it more charming to you. You didn’t mind the mess. In fact, it was endearing in a way that made you feel a little warmer every time you fixed it.

You ran your fingers through his hair slowly, pushing the damp strands away from his forehead. It was a soft, simple motion that felt like it grounded you both. His breath hitched for a moment as you moved closer, the proximity pulling a quiet vulnerability from him that wasn’t often seen.

"Does it really look that bad?" he asked quietly, voice a little softer than usual. His tone was playful, but you could tell there was a genuine curiosity in it.

You chuckled, your fingers continuing to work through the tangled mess of curls. "A little bit, yeah," you said with a teasing smile. "But you’re lucky I’m willing to help."

He shifted slightly, turning his head to meet your gaze, his eyes softer than before. "You don’t have to help. But I’m glad you do," he said, his voice sincere in a way that made you pause for a moment.

You couldn’t help but smile, meeting his gaze and feeling the warmth that had begun to settle between the two of you. Jack, with all his energy and strength on the ice, had this way of being completely vulnerable with you when it mattered most. It was a quiet kind of vulnerability—like he wasn’t afraid to let his guard down and let you in.

"You make it look easy," you said softly, still working on fixing the last few strands of his hair.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his smile playful again. "What, fixing my hair?" he teased. "I’m not that difficult to handle."

You smirked, finishing with the last part of his hair and letting your hands fall to your lap. "No, you’re not difficult," you agreed, looking at him with a smile that matched his. "You’re just… you."

Jack leaned back, his head resting on the armrest as he stretched his arms out with a relaxed sigh. "Well, I guess that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want to be anything else."

The words hung between you, comfortable and light. He didn’t have to be perfect, didn’t have to be anything other than himself. That was the part that mattered most to you—just Jack, with all his quirks, his mess, and his laughter.

And as you sat there, after the simple motion of fixing his hair, you realised it was the small things like this that made your connection with him so special. No grand gestures were necessary, not when these quiet, intimate moments spoke louder than anything else.

Jack’s gaze softened as he reached over, resting his hand gently on yours. "Thanks," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your heart flutter. "It’s perfect."

You squeezed his hand, a quiet warmth filling your chest. "Anytime," you replied, settling back against the couch as the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, content in each other’s presence.

And just like that, in the midst of the simplicity, everything felt just right.

[dearstvckyx]

Girl Dad Nico Headcanons

Summary: What kind of girl dad would Nico be? What would he teach her?

Parings: Nico Hischier x Reader / Nico Hischier x Daughter / Nico Hischier x Unborn Child / ft Jack Hughes, Jesper Bratt & Dougie Hamilton

. 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 . ⁺ 　 . 　⁺ 　 .

Finding Out You’re Having a Girl – Nico would be so soft when he finds out. The moment the doctor says, “It’s a girl,” his face just lights up. He squeezes your hand, probably kisses your forehead, and just whispers, “A little girl?” like he can’t believe it. He spends the next few days grinning every time he thinks about it, already imagining what she’ll be like. He starts calling her ��his little princess” before she’s even born.

Introducing Her to the boys – The first time he brings her to the locker room, she’s in a tiny Devils onesie with Hischier on the back, and the guys lose their minds. Jack Hughes is immediately like, “Oh my god, she’s so small,” while Dougie Hamilton is already trying to teach her how to fist bump. Jesper Bratt swears he’s her favorite uncle, even though she’s just staring at him. Nico just beams with pride, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world (because to him, she is).

Teaching Her to Skate – The first time he puts skates on her, she’s wobbling so much he just scoops her up and glides around the ice with her in his arms. As she gets older, he’s the most patient teacher, always there to catch her when she falls. He definitely lets her “beat” him in little races, and if she scores a goal on him, he acts like she just won the Stanley Cup.

Tea Parties – Listen, this man is all in. You walk in one day to find Nico sitting on the floor, a tiara on his head, pink feather boa around his shoulders, sipping invisible tea from a tiny cup while his daughter tells him very seriously about the royal ball. He never half-asses it—if she wants him to talk in a princess voice, you bet he’s doing it. “Why yes, Your Majesty, this tea is simply divine.”

Making Time for Her Performances – Even during the busiest parts of the season, he does everything to be at her dance recitals or school plays. If he has a game and can’t be there, he FaceTimes right after to tell her how proud he is. But if he can make it? He’s the loudest dad there, clapping like crazy, grinning ear to ear, probably recording the whole thing. He also definitely gets chirped by the guys for tearing up the first time she performs.

Matching Game Day Outfits – She has a tiny Devils jersey with his number, and on game days, she refuses to wear anything else. He takes a pre-game selfie with her every time and posts it with “My lucky charm” as the caption.

Doing Her Hair – At first, he sucks at ponytails, but he watches YouTube tutorials until he masters it. Eventually, he’s braiding her hair like a pro, and if she asks for a fancy style before school, he’s up early making sure it’s perfect.

Letting Her Paint His Nails – She asks him once during a daddy-daughter day, and from then on, it’s a tradition. He just sits there, letting her paint his nails bright pink with glitter, acting like it’s totally normal when he shows up to practice. The guys chirp him, but he just shrugs and says, “She said it’s my power color.”

Protective Dad Mode – The first time she scrapes her knee, he freaks out like it’s a season-ending injury. Later, when she gets older and mentions a boy in her class, he’s suddenly very interested in meeting him. “Is he nice to you?” (Meanwhile, Jack is in the background like “Dude, she’s seven.”)

Cuddling Her After Road Trips – No matter how late he gets home, he checks in on her first. If she stirs, she immediately mumbles “Daddy?” and reaches for him, and he just melts, scooping her up and rocking her back to sleep.

Teaching Her Swiss German – He makes sure she knows both English and Swiss German. Sometimes, he says things in Swiss German just to see her little face scrunch up in confusion, but when she starts speaking it back? Proud dad moment.

Baking Together – He is not a good baker, but when she wants to make cookies, he’s all in. The kitchen ends up a disaster, flour everywhere, and the cookies are questionably shaped—but he eats them like they’re Michelin star quality.

Letting Her “Help” With Workouts – She sits on his back while he does push-ups, giggling the whole time. Eventually, she tries to do squats next to him, and he hypes her up like she’s training for the Olympics.

Always Hyping Her Up – Whether she’s showing off a drawing, skating, or just spinning in a dress, he gasps like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. “Are you kidding? You made this?! That’s incredible.”

Her First Pair of Skates – He keeps them forever, even after she outgrows them. They sit on a shelf in his office, right next to his hockey memorabilia. ( Once Jesper, the one who got them for her, notices them in Nico’s office and just smiles at the fact his captain and friend is soft like this)

Stuffed Animal Ritual – She has a favorite stuffed animal (probably a little cow or a bear), and Nico always makes sure it’s with her when she needs it. If it ever gets lost, he drops everything to find it.

Late-Night Talks – When she has a bad day, she finds him on the couch, and he just listens. No judgment, no pressure—just her dad, reminding her he’s always there.

Surprising Her at School Lunch – On off days, he shows up at her school unannounced with her favorite food, and she acts embarrassed but secretly loves it.

Making Every Birthday Special – He wakes her up with balloons and pancakes. Every year. Even when she’s a teenager and pretends she’s too cool for it.

Keeping Her Drawings Forever – His fridge is covered in her artwork. If she ever makes something hockey-related, it immediately gets framed. (The boys hang their little drawings from her as well)

Extra:

Nico’s fingers brush over your growing bump, his touch warm and careful, like he’s holding something fragile. He lets out a small chuckle, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both lay together on the couch. “I feel like it’s another girl,” he murmurs, tilting his head to look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. You raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? You sure about that, Cap?” He grins, nodding. “I just have a feeling.” His hand smooths over your belly again, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s speaking to the baby. “Another little girl to boss me around. Just imagine—two of them ganging up on me.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, but the sparkle in his eyes betrays how much he loves the idea. You laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t want a boy this time?” He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’d love a boy too. But… I don’t know, I think I was meant to be a girl dad. Our little one already has me wrapped around her finger, what’s one more?” He pauses for a second before smirking. “Besides, I need someone else to paint my nails when she’s too busy with her friends.”

[brainddeadd]

luke hughes back in michigan and running into the girls he’s even crushing on for years since he met her at umich. quinn and jack are with him and they are so surprised because they have never see luke act this way towards anyone

A sun-soaked afternoon at a local coffee shop near the University of Michigan. Luke, Quinn, and Jack Hughes walk in, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. As they chat and laugh, Luke's eyes scan the room, landing on a familiar face—you.

You’re seated at a table, absorbed in a book, and a soft smile crosses Luke’s face. He nudges Quinn and Jack, pointing subtly in your direction.

“Is that…?” Luke begins, his voice barely a whisper, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah, it is!” Quinn replies, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking about her for years!”

Jack smirks, noticing the way Luke’s demeanor shifts from relaxed to a flurry of nervous energy. “You’re actually blushing, dude. This is gonna be good.”

“Shut up!” Luke shoots back, his cheeks warming as he tries to compose himself. “I’m just… surprised.”

“More like you’re crushing hard,” Quinn teases, and Luke shoots him a glare.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Luke says, straightening his posture and walking over, trying to appear casual but failing spectacularly. He trips over the leg of a chair, stumbling slightly before catching himself, and the sound of the small commotion draws your attention.

You look up, a smile spreading across your face as your eyes meet Luke’s. “Hey, Luke! Long time no see!” you say, closing your book.

“Y-yeah! Um, hey!” he stammers, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t expect to see you here… like, at all. Are you, um, back for the summer?”

“Yeah, just for a few weeks. I’m excited to enjoy some time off,” you reply, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “What about you? How’s the hockey life treating you?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to survive the ice and all that,” he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. “But, um, it's good! Really good.”

Quinn and Jack exchange amused glances from a distance, grinning at their brother’s awkward charm.

“Yeah? That’s awesome! I’m so glad to hear it,” you say, leaning forward, genuinely interested.

Luke’s heart races, and he feels like he’s lost the ability to speak coherently. “S-so, do you, um, come here often?” he asks, internally cringing at the cliché pickup line.

You giggle, finding his awkwardness endearing. “Only when I’m in town. This place has the best coffee.”

“Right, right! Coffee is great! I love coffee!” he exclaims, trying to regain his cool but only making it worse. “I mean, I like coffee. You know, not as much as other things, but it’s up there!”

You can’t help but laugh again, and Luke feels his heart skip a beat at the sound. “What’s your favorite drink here?” you ask, enjoying the banter.

“Um, probably the, uh, caramel macchiato,” he stumbles, finally regaining some composure. “You should try it! It’s—um, really good!”

“Sounds good! Maybe I will,” you say, smiling softly at him, sensing his nervousness. “I could use a little pick-me-up.”

Just then, Quinn and Jack saunter over, both grinning like Cheshire cats. “Oh, we didn’t mean to interrupt,” Quinn teases, crossing his arms. “But Luke here was just telling us how much he missed you.”

“Shut up!” Luke snaps, his face flushing deeper as he shoots his brother a playful glare.

You laugh, watching the playful dynamic between the brothers. “You guys are hilarious,” you say, trying to ease the tension for Luke.

“Yeah, he’s not usually this awkward,” Jack adds, winking at you. “You bring out a different side of him.”

Luke groans, burying his face in his hands. “Okay, can we not? I’m just trying to have a normal conversation here!”

You grin at him, feeling a flutter in your chest. “I think it’s sweet how protective your brothers are. You’re lucky to have them.”

“They’re more of a pain than anything,” Luke mumbles, but he can’t hide his smile. “But I wouldn’t trade them for anything. So, um, do you want to hang out sometime while you’re back?”

Your heart skips, and you nod eagerly. “I’d love that! Just let me know when you’re free.”

“Cool! Great! I’ll, um, text you?” he stutters, looking hopeful yet nervous.

“Definitely,” you reply, feeling a warm thrill at the thought.

As you part ways, Luke can’t help but grin as he rejoins his brothers, who are still chuckling. “What was that?” Jack asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know, man! I was just… talking!” Luke protests, but the smile on his face betrays his excitement.

Quinn claps him on the back. “Well, you didn’t trip over your words too much, so that’s a win!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke replies, still riding the high of your interaction. “I think I really like her.”

“Ya think?” Jack teases, but there’s a warmth in his voice. “Looks like someone’s got a summer crush.”

Luke chuckles, a dreamy look in his eyes as he walks out of the café. “It’s more than a crush. I’m gonna make this summer count.”

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her Minnesota crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 1

word count - 2,081

Humming under her breath, y/n waltzed to her last round of the night with a smile. The pediatric ward was finally quiet as the young patients slept. After the nonstop buzz of activity from the emergency rooms and worried families, y/n was ready for a breather.

As she passed the nurses station, her friend Destiney looked up from updating charts on the computer.

"Last hour, huh? Well, aren't you just flying through it?" she said with a smirk. She was well aware of y/n’s eagerness to go home.

“Smooth sailing from here,” y/n agreed, giving Destiney a grin. One more hour and her long awaited couch potato plans could begin.

She was planning a weekend of clubbing with her girlfriends at the bar downtown tomorrow night. Music, getting pretty and fruity cocktails awaited her outside of these cold walls.

y/n checked the time - only 30 minutes left in her shift. Just one more patient to check on before she could call it a night. Grabbing fresh gloves and vitals equipment, she made her way to the last room on her rotation.

Knocking gently before entering, she stepped inside. “Good evening Mr. Hughes, I’m y/n, the CNA on duty,” she introduced herself warmly to the young man sitting up in bed. “I just need to get your vitals and a blood sample if that’s alright.”

The brown-haired patient flashed her a charming smile. "Well Y/N. Lucky you," he said, a self-assured chuckle punctuating his words.

"Meeting someone like me doesn't happen every day," he quipped, his soft blue eyes meeting hers as he extended his arm, waiting for her to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it.

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Jack's confident demeanor, but she couldn't deny the charm that seemed to ooze from every pore of the young man. She nodded, playing along with his game.

"I'll try not to swoon, Mr. Hughes," she replied wryly, deftly velcroing the blood pressure cuff around his sculpted bicep. She couldn't help but notice how fit and strong he looked.

As the cuff inflated and she watched the gauge, y/n added casually, "So how's your pain by the way? Any headaches, dizziness, nausea? Or just a hard head keeping you comfortable?" Her no nonsense tone made it clear she wasn't here to get swept away by his antics.

"Oh there's no pain with you around to ease it," Jack replied smoothly, his voice like velvet. He ran a hand through his artfully mussed black hair. "But maybe a four outta ten. This hard head of mine has taken worse bumps on the ice and kept going."

Y/n maintained her professional composure, ignoring the way Jack's dark brown eyes seemed to gaze right through her. Clearing her throat, Y/n jotted a quick note, acutely aware of his eyes following her every move. The sharp antiseptic scent of the hospital couldn't mask his woodsy cologne.

"Well those other concussions must have rattled some sense into you then," she said. Clearly this patient was accustomed to wrapping girls around his finger with that smooth confidence of his.

Y/n made more small talk with Jack as she worked, carefully noting down his oxygen levels, temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure in his chart. Then she swiftly drew several vials of blood, applying a cottonball over the needle mark on his vein afterwards.

“All done, you did great, Mr. Hughes,” Y/N said with a smile, labeling the blood samples neatly to send to the lab. “Buzz if you need anything else tonight.” As she turned to leave, Jack called out to her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "You know, I wouldn't mind some company tonight. How about you and I grab a drink sometime?"

"While I'm flattered by the offer, I'll have to politely decline drinks, Mr. Hughes," she responded with a quirk of her lips. "Wouldn't want to jeopardize my sterling employee record over a date with a charmer like yourself. Now focus on healing that hard head of yours."

"Will do, gorgeous," Jack replied, "But when I get discharged from this joint, drinks are still on me if you change your mind."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hughes," Y/N said with an exaggerated eye roll, unable to keep a smile from her face as she exited. That man's persistence was almost enough to make her regret having to let him down.

Almost. With a last fond head shake at his antics, she headed to finish her charts, the image of his grinning face lingering in her mind.

…

Y/n headed home from the hospital. Jersey roads were packed to the brim but finally she made it home. The smell of caramel and pumpkins filled her nose as she kicked off her shoes by the front door before turning on the lights.

Light meows flowed through the hallways bringing a bug smile to her face. The brown tabby cat padded up to the entrance purring and rubbing against y/n’s legs.

After her long shift, y/n was relieved to finally pull into the driveway of her home. The narrow Jersey streets had been jammed as usual for this time of evening, but she didn't mind too much.

The sight of her house with its cheerful fall decorations by the front steps was welcome after a day on her feet at the hospital.

Pushing open the door, y/n breathed deep, enjoying the warm blend of caramel and pumpkin. The aroma made her smile. Fall was her favorite time of year.

Y/n kicked off her shoes, meows filled the hallway as her brown tabby cat came padding over to wind figure eights around her ankles. "Hey sweet boy," y/n murmured, reaching down to scritch under his chin. Hugo rumbled happily, nudging his head against her hand.

After providing Hugo with a fresh scoop of food, y/n poured herself a mug of hot chocolate and sank onto the living room sofa with a content sigh. The house was quiet except for the cat crunching his kibble and the occasional passing car outside.

Y/n was halfway through an episode of Game of Thrones when her phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text. Then another. And another. With a soft groan, she grabbed the phone to check the influx of messages.

As expected, it was the group chat with her girlfriends blowing up. They always got extra excited leading up to one of their girls night.

"Just booked our table, bitches!" Angie had texted. "Meet at my place no later than 10:30, and yes y/n I mean you" Heather added. Lexi followed up insistently, "y/n don't forget the black top I wanted to borrow!" She quickly typed out a reassurance she hadn't forgotten about tonight or the black top she knew she wasn’t getting back.

…

As Y/N and her friends approached the club, the frigid air gnawed at their exposed skin, sending shivers down their spines. The lines outside stretched around the building, a testament to the club's popularity on a chilly night like this.

With each step, Y/N felt the chill seeping into her bones, the biting wind tugging at her clothing as they navigated the crowded streets.

"Come on, guys, just a little farther," Ang called out, her voice buoyant despite the cold as she navigated through the throng of people with ease. "We're almost there!"

Finally reaching the promoter line, Y/N watched as Ang worked her magic, effortlessly securing their entry into the club. As the bouncer scanned their IDs, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins, the cold all but forgotten.

They were ushered in one by one, the bouncer's practiced eye scanning each of them before granting entry.

Y/N hurried inside, grateful to escape the biting cold that nipped at her legs, her breath forming puffs of vapor in the chilly air. As she stepped into the warmth of the club, the pulsating beat of the music washed over her, drowning out the winter chill and setting the stage for a night of excitement and adventure.

She made a beeline for the bar while her friends headed to the table, eager to start the night off with a buzz. A group of guys already occupied the bar, their boisterous laughter filling the air as they bantered back and forth.

Squeezing in next to them, Y/N caught the bartender's attention and ordered a lemon drop martini, her go-to choice for starting the night off right. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside her.

The guys were deep in discussion about hockey, Y/N watched with interest as the bartender expertly prepared her drink, her eyes flicking between the group and the skilled mixologist behind the bar. Y/N raised her glass in a silent toast to the night ahead.

With a satisfied smile, she took a sip, letting the sweet tang of the cocktail wash over her palate as she settled in to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the club.

"So, you like hockey?” The guy at the bar turned towards Y/N with a wide grin. She was caught off guard by his sudden question. "Oh, uh, well, I don't really have a favorite team," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "I mean, I enjoy watching games sometimes, but I'm not really die-hard about it."

The guy nodded, his smile widening. "That's cool, that's cool," he said, leaning casually against the bar. "I'm a player. I play in Canada, but my friends are on the Jersey devils."

Just then, Lexi bounded up beside Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she twirled her hair flirtatiously. "Hey there," she said, flashing the guy a dazzling smile. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about hockey. I'm Lexi, by the way."

The guy's eyes lit up as he turned his attention to Lexi, his grin widening. "Hey, Lexi," he replied, extending his hand. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you." They exchanged pleasantries, Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Lexi's boldness, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

Lexi's sudden interjection caught Y/N off guard, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at her friend's audacity. "Um, yeah, we have a table," she added, her tone a bit too eager as she subtly placed her hand on the guy's bicep.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lexi's not-so-subtle attempt at flirting. It was classic Lexi, always boy-crazy and never one to shy away from making her intentions known.

The guy, Quinn, seemed taken aback by Lexi's forwardness but recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face. "That sounds great," he replied, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Lexi. "We'd love to join you."

Y/N sighed inwardly, resigned to the fact that her night was about to get a lot more interesting with Lexi's antics in full swing. As they made their way back to the table, she couldn't help but shake her head at her friend's boldness.

…

The night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Y/N felt the effects of the alcohol hit her harder than she expected. With the group of boys that had joined them, drinks were poured endlessly, laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.

Quinn suggested that they all come to a Devils game next week while he was in Jersey. The other boys nodded in agreement, meanwhile, the girls exchanged knowing giggles.

When the venue lights eventually flickered on to signal the end of the evening, Quinn turned to Lexi "Hey, we should exchange numbers, for the game and all.” He asked a bit shyly, Lexi grinned before nodding eagerly as she fished her phone out of her purse, exchanging numbers with Quinn

Quinn and the guys said their farewells to Y/N and her friends. Amid plenty of smiles all around, plans were set for the upcoming hockey game. The girls excitedly piled into their Uber, eager chat filling the car. "Oh my gosh, Quinn was so cute!" Lexi gushed. "Right?" the others chorused, laughter and smiles all around.

"That Jesper was a total sweetheart.," Ang added. Y/N grinned, shaking her head affectionately at her lovestruck friends. Their lively banter continued as they reminisced over the fun night.

Y/N certainly enjoyed meeting Quinn's upbeat group, but her thoughts did stray for a moment to Jack from the hospital. Sprinkled with cheerful squeals whenever their favorite hockey team's recent match came up, the girls' bubbly conversation flowed freely the whole ride back.

…

Send ya girl some feedback. I feel like this part was so bad, hopefully you like it tho 😃

[letstalkhockey]

𝐈𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Media girl, y/n, who worked for the devils. meeting Jack Hughes, was not on the bucket list.

so what happens when they start hooking up, and it’s forbidden to have any further relationship?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: another angsty fic, (sorry!) swearing, mentions to smut - none is written!! That is all!

Another fic for you lovely’s💕 You guys gave my other one so much love so I wrote this quick fic I had in mind, let me know if you want part two. Xoxo

“We can’t keep doing this Jack, I can’t risk my job for a relationship-“ 

You found yourself in Jack Hughes bed more often than your own. The two of you bonded quickly, easily, which led to one thing or another, and for the past 2 and a half months, you’ve been hooking up with Jack or seeing Jack almost every other day. It was hard not too, since you worked for the devils media team, and he played for them. You didn’t think about how hard it would be to end something like this, having to see him everyday after, you were too caught up in the bliss of it all.

It was almost like the perfect relationship - except it wasn’t. Yes, you were able to spend almost everyday with Jack, you were on roadies with the team for media, you were at every game, every practice… except neither of you were anything exclusive, yet. It was the perfect situationship in Jacks eyes. But I’m yours, it was something that could potentially ruin everything for you. You had to sign a contract when coming too this job, one of the rules was that you were to have no explicit relationship with a co-worker or one of the team players. That rule was quickly broken when you met Jack Hughes, he was charming, handsome, sweet, a bit cocky, and really good in bed.

Now, you laid, cuddled up in a hotel bed somewhere in California, with no other than Jack Hughes. Both naked and clinging onto each other, trying to catch your breath from the recent activities that took place in the hotel room just less than 10 minutes ago. The devils had a roadie throughout the west coast this week, you were lucky enough to get to stay in a hotel for a couple of days before a game, and so were the devils players themselves.

It was late evening, not too late, but also not early. Giving you enough time to sneak back to your hotel room before it could get to a suspicious time at night to be up and walking around.

“But we’re not in a ‘relationship’,” Jack spoke, with a unsure tone, as if he was trying to convince himself of it.

“I know. But before we take anything further I think we both need to realize that it’s just gonna hurt more if we do end up going further, it’s best just to stop sooner than later-“

You looked at his face as you both laid on your sides, your bodies intertwined and both of your heads rested on soft pillows facing each other. 

You watched as Jack shut his eyes, refusing to say anything to you, you took your hand up to his forehead, brushing the damp curls from his forehead. Stopping your hand in his hair.

“Jack.”

“I like what we have,” he said softly, running his hand up and down your hip, “and I like you. Is that so wrong?” 

“No! Yes-“ you spoke quick, shaking your head, “I just can’t lose this job, Jack. Sneaking around wouldn’t be easy.”

“But we do just fine at sneaking around…” his eyes were big- sad, and glossy, looking at you like you were breaking his heart. Probably because you were.

“That’s different Jack!” You snap, his body tense and his grip of you losens, “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I-I’m just so- I don’t want to have to hide my relationship. I want fo be able to do things- This isn’t what I want,”

Jack sat up, letting go of you completely, you weren’t sure why, but you were sure that in that moment, that you could feel your heart breaking too. Because you do want Jack, but you can’t have him.

“Go.” Jack slid a hand down over his face, his eyes glossy and his voice almost breaking.

“What?”

“J-just get out-“ Jack couldn’t even look at you when he said it, looking down at his lap while tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. The thing with you and jack was that things were always easy, like a walk in the park. Only a few times you found yourself having to speak to him like this, almost never. It was an easy type of love, yet so difficult. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms, his heartbroken form broke your heart. 

He was never good at communicating, especially his feelings.

“Jack your being ridiculous-“

“For fucks sake- Just leave, this isn’t what you want? Fine. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you realize that a stupid job isn't worth getting in the way of the person you're in love with.” 

Oh. Ouch.

It took you a minute to register what he said, when you did, you were quick to get out of the bed, the bed not even 20 minutes ago that you were making love to the boy who now most likely hated your guts.

You quickly found your clothes, gathering them in your arms, and throwing on your robe that you bring with you. You stopped by the door, tears rolling down your cheeks, turning towards jack, who sat in the same position, staring at the opposite side of the hotel room.

“I’m sorry Jack. I really wish you the best,” you wiped your cheeks, opening the door and stepping out. When you closed it, it felt like a part of your life - an era of your life ended. Right there and then.

Before you could continue to walk back to your hotel room, you turned, leaning up against his door and taking deep breaths, doing your best to hold back the sobs that had been waiting to come out.

“Y/n?” 

Oh Shit.

Let me know if a part two is something you guys would want to see!!!

[goldengleams]

another cinderella story | l. hughes

summary: after your masquerade dance, you invite luke back to your house to watch a movie that’s right on theme. will he be your prince charming?

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: oh it’s just me being active and posting again!! so excited to be on break for the summer and finally have some free time! this was inspired by an experience i had with a friend and it was so fun to write, so please show some love by reblogginh or liking! leave some requests or messages in my inbox for fun! 🤍

———————————————————————

You pulled your coat around your shoulders as the chilly winter air nipped at your exposed skin, making the climb out of the Uber and the walk to your house that much more dreadful. Your night at your sorority formal had been a blast. This year, there was a masquerade theme and you had gotten lucky enough that your formal was on a non-hockey weekend so that you could invite your close friend, Luke Hughes.

The two of you had had a fun night with your sorority sisters and a few of his teammates who had been invited. Before you left, the drinks had been flowing at your pregame, so you had felt extra loose on the dance floor with Luke as your date.

“Thank you, have a good night,” you said to the driver. Luke quickly climbed out of the car to join you and speedwalk inside.

“I think the cold just completely sobered me up,” you grumbled.

Luke laughed from behind you. “Yeah, you did go a little hard after we finished our bottle of champagne.” You let out a soft groan at the reminder that you and Luke had been handcuffed to each other earlier in the night to complete your champagne and shackles challenge.

“I only had a one dirty shirley but I knew that stupid bottle of champagne would fuck me up,” you said, laughing as you recalled your tipsy self earlier in the night.

“I thought you handled it well, you only tripped three times walking in,” Luke teased. It wasn’t your fault that your best friend had made everyone drink the champagne in a race.

“Well, you knew I wasn’t going to lose to Luca and Bella in the drinking game!”

You and Luke reached the front door of your sorority house and you scanned in. Unsurprisingly, the house was empty, the other girls still at the formal venue or planning to stay with their dates for the night.

You shrugged off your coat and Luke hung it up on the coat rack in the closet along with his own. He had been over to your sorority house many times to study and hang out with you, so he knew where just about everything was.

“I was gonna bring some popcorn and those chocolate covered pretzels upstairs,” You called from the kitchen. Luke came in a moment later, still looking handsome in his button down and dress pants. You wouldn’t admit to it, but your eyes did linger on the contour of his muscles that was evident through his shirt. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Another Cinderella Story!”

“Jack and Quinn weren’t exactly interested in Disney Channel at that age, so blame them next time you see them,” Luke laughed. “How does this relate again?”

You huffed out a breath. “It’s a cultural masterpiece because Selena Gomez’s character goes to a masquerade ball where she dances with the Joey Parker, who is the celebrity in the movie,” you explained while walking up the stairs. Luke followed behind you, intently listening to your words. It was hard to ignore his eyes as he focused on you. “And since we just went to the masquerade dance, it’s a must!”

“So she’s the one playing Cinderella?”

“Yeah and she’s a really good dancer but her evil stepmother, who is played by Jane Lynch, of course, won’t let her be with him. It’s cinematic, I swear Luke.”

Luke’s eyes followed your form as you walked up the stairs. Your dress clung to you in all the right spots and your heels you had worn had made your legs look even longer than usual. He tried not to watch as your hair flowed behind you, the new style making him want to stare at you all night.

“Alright, I’ll get this masterpiece of a film set up, so get the snacks ready!”

Luke took a seat on your futon and you quickly clicked on Disney Plus to turn on the movie. You had started to feel too overdressed in your outfit, so you grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a Michigan hockey t-shirt to change into.

“Nice shirt,” Luke said when you walked back into your room. His eyes had gone straight to your shirt and seeing your choice of attire made him smile.

“Don’t be flattered, it was the first one in my drawer,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You quickly grabbed a hair tie to put your hair up in a bun in front of your mirror. You didn’t expect Luke to be watching you as you turned back to join him where he was sitting.

“You look nice,” he said softly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“In my pajamas?”

“You always look pretty, Y/N.”

You wanted to question what he meant but he turned away and focused back on the television. Recently, you had started feeling like yours and Luke’s relationship was bordering on the “more than just friends” line. He had made it a point to see you as much as he could, which ended up being just about every day. Your friends in your house had started teasing you more and more about how oblivious you were to Luke’s flirting.

You settled in next to Luke and shivered a little, pulling the blanket he grabbed closer to you.

“Come here,” Luke said, opening his arms for you to slide closer to him. The snacks still separated you from the hockey player. You told yourself it was just for warmth, that your sorority house had been known to be drafty in the wintertime.

“You cold?” You teased.

“No, but I know you always are. Your hands are always freezing and you wear, like three layers of clothing everyday, Y/N,” Luke joked. You couldn’t believe Luke paid attention to you like that.

Was it normal to have butterflies for your best friend during a Disney Channel Original Movie?

About an hour into the movie, lots of yelling at Jane Lynch, and one dance break later, you felt your eyelids start to droop. You sat up a little straighter, trying to stay awake to finish the movie with Luke but your night was catching up to you. You could feel him looking at you as you tried to stifle a yawn.

“We can save the rest of the movie for another day if you want,” Luke offered as he paused the movie.

You quickly shook your head. “I can’t leave you in suspense about what happens to Mary Santiago and Joey Parker, Luke. That would be a crime to DCOMs and to you.”

Luke pressed play once again, enjoying how excited you were about the movie and not wanting to miss spending any time with you. “You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want to, Y/N.”

You gave in, resting your head on Luke’s shoulder and cuddling up next to him. You weren’t sure what territory this put you into, since this seemed to be more intimate than anything you’d ever done before. You smelled Luke’s cologne as you moved closer, feeling his arm wrap around you as he welcomed your presence closer to him.

You knew you were a goner right then and there, because three minutes later, you were pressed against his shoulder letting out soft, steady breaths with your arm wrapped around Luke’s stomach. Luke didn’t notice you were asleep until a few minutes later, assuming you had just been watching the movie. He smiled at the sight of you curled up next to him and took in your facial features. After being friends for over a year, he had discovered so many things about you that made him want to be around you even more.

Luke let the movie run on, only half paying attention to what was happening. He had been excited when you asked him to be your date for the night, knowing that there were other guys, including a few of his teammates, who found you very attractive. He would have gone anywhere you had asked him, quite honestly, but the dance was fun and your post-dance plans of showing him one of your comfort movies only made his heart swell more. Even though dancing wasn’t his thing, he knew it was yours, and it made him excited just to see you happy.

Once the film was ending, he reached for the other blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch, not realizing that the remote was right there. The small black box clattered to the ground hit the side of the couch just right so that the sound went up, jerking you awake.

You were so surprised by the sound that you almost didn’t realize you had been asleep on Luke’s shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

Luke quickly bent over to get the remote off the ground which gave you a minute to take in the song playing.

“Oh my god, did I fall asleep?” As a true DCOM fan, you knew that Selena Gomez’s song played at the end as the credits were rolling.

“Uh yeah, but not for long. You only missed her and Joey at the end,” Luke said. He placed the remote in between the two of you, since you had moved away from him in your haste to wake up.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Luke. I didn’t mean to,” you said, feeling embarrassed. You had spent the night trying to impress Luke and now you had probably drooled on his nice shirt.

“No, no don’t be. I was trying to cover you up with another blanket and I dropped it by accident.”

You both sat in an awkward silence before Luke cleared his throat.

“You’re cute when you sleep.” You rolled your eyes at his comment.

“I should’ve known my date was a stalker,” you teased.

“Thank you for inviting me, by the way. I had a really great time,” Luke said sincerely. You felt a flush on your cheeks.

“Even though I got a little too tipsy and fell asleep on you?” You questioned semi-seriously.

“Especially because you got tipsy and fell asleep on me,” Luke chuckled. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with me, Y/N.”

“Of course I feel comfortable with you, Luke. We’re friends.”

Luke quickly looked at you with a smirk on his face before huffing out a laugh and shaking his head. He wanted to say something, you knew all of his tells.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Nothing, I just wish we wouldn’t keep doing this song and dance. We’re worse than Mary and Joey, Y/N.”

Luke took your hand into his. “What do you mean Luke?”

Luke brought his hand to your cheek, the space between the two of you on the couch eliminated as he moved closer. His eyes dipped to your lips, silently asking you a question that you both already knew the answer to.

You nodded, leaning into his touch and pressing your lips against his. Cliche as it sounds, you felt like one of the girls in a Disney movie, kissing your Prince Charming.

Luke pulled away first to smile at you. “Took us long enough, huh? C’mere my Cinderella.”

You giggled and kissed him again, already planning your first anniversary and rewatching of Another Cinderella Story in your head.

———————————————————————

[socialfakes]

the devils in the details- luke hughes

chapter 1; part 1: jersey cold

nhl players x platonic!fem!reader

eventual luke hughes x fem!reader

temporary surprise player x fem!reader

series masterlist

Liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, nicohischier and 1,207 others

yourinstagram | my favorite roomies!!! loving the new jersey life ��

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jackhughes best friends forever ❤️

_quinnhughes still think you’d like living with me a whole lot more 😂  | yourinstagram maybe. guess we’ll never know now 🤷🏻‍♀️

trevorzegras hope you’re keeping these two out of trouble  | yourinstagram you know i am 😃

nicohischier can’t believe you moved out just to go live with them 😂  | yourinstagram actually i moved out to live with jack. luke only just showed up 😊❤

lhughes_06 truly the greatest roommate ever. also prettier than jack obvi 😉  | yourinstagram awe so are you pookie 😏

user01 luke looks so cute in that hat 😃  | yourinstagram he looks cute all the time, wdym

umichhockey missing our pookie  | yourinstagram always missing you ❤

rutgermcgroarty can’t wait to visit soon

elblue6 awe cuties

Liked by lhughes_06, juliasmith, _quinnhughes and 2,041 others

yourinstagram | today we celebrate the best hockey player i have ever seen ❤ so proud of you

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jackhughes how can he be the best player if he’s only scored one goal? 😂  | yourinstagram better than you, just admit it jack  | jackhughes never

lhughes_06 maybe having you there was lucky 😃  | yourinstagram your good luck charm forever 🍀❤

user02 he’s so cute 😊

nicohischier really jealous that i'm not your favorite player anymore 😔  | yourinstagram you’re my favorite in many other ways nico ❤

_quinnhughes i’m not ashamed to admit he’s better than me ☺

user03 i live for your friendship 😊

trevorzegras not better than me 😧  | yourinstagram trev, i love you but luke is way better 😏

user04 can someone tell me if y/nhughes is a thing? if it’s not, can it be? i need it to be a thing please 🙏🏻

jamie.drysdale you’re not just his lucky charm 😊 whenever you’re at a game, i score too  | trevorzegras same  | _quinnhughes me too  | jackhughes yeah ditto  | nicohischier we’re lucky to know her of course 😄  | yourinstagram love each and every one of you ❤

Liked by lhughes_06, rutgermcgroarty, jackhughes and 5,218 others

yourinstagram | up in the middle of nowhere for a while with my favorite person ❤

view all comments

adamfantilli hope you two enjoy your time together

rutgermcgroarty make sure you’re staying warm. it’s supposed to get super cold  | yourinstagram don’t worry. we're definitely staying warm 😏

lhughes_06 my favorite movie 😊

_quinnhughes the pizza looks delicious 😋  | yourinstagram well the 3 pieces i got WERE really good. i love pepperoni

jackhughes it’s so freaking cold 🥶

user03 did you guys have a snowball fight?  | yourinstagram you bet 😊

user12 are you there with luke since he’s your favorite person?  | yourinstagram no 👀

user14 does anyone know who she’s with?  | adamfantilli yeah  | jackhughes yes  | nicohischier yuppers  | bboeser definitely  | lhughes_06 yes  | jamie.drysdale yeah we know  | trevorzegras yeah  | user14 well i was looking for more clues on who it is but glad to know you guys aren’t being kept in the dark 👍🏻

nicohischier ❄😊

bboeser ❄❤

taglist: @worldlxvlys @diorsluv

[mamaestapa]

exposing my drafts!

some of these fics are just ideas right now and other have been started. some of these are also “outdated” like they been in my drafts for so long the plot isn’t even relevant anymore…BUT i’ll still finish them ;)

NFL

Joe Burrow:

Leather and Lace (Smut)

You surprise Joe with some special lingerie after the Bengals win their first Super Bowl

Call It What You Want (Angst & fluff)

Fans love to speculate about your relationship with Joe, but only the two of you know what you truly are. The fans can continue to call it what they want

NHL

Jack Hughes:

False God (Smut)

Based off of False God by Taylor Swift

Trevor Zegras:

Electric Touch (Smut)

Remote controlled vibrator, team dinner party, sex in a bathroom

Want You All Over Me (Smut)

Lazy, sweet, morning sex with Trevor after you sneak into his bedroom (Set in Devils Advocate universe)

Is It Over Now? (Angst)

Based on Is It Over Now? by Taylor Swift

Trevor Zegras & Jack Hughes:

Surround Sound (Smut)

During a party at the lake house in Michigan Jack and Trevor discover that you never had a prom night experience like theirs, and they make it their mission to make sure you finally get to experience what they did…

Jamie Drysdale:

Ducklings First Holliday (Fluff)

Celebrating your first holliday with your newborn baby girl (set BEFORE Jamie got traded)

You Were There (Angst & Fluff)

Takes place during Jamie’s trade to Philly, based on the bridge in evermore by Taylor Swift

Adam Fantilli:

Mile High Club (Smut)

On a flight to Cabo for your birthday, your boyfriend suggests you become members of a certain club…

When in Rome (Smut & a little Fluff)

Italy trip with the Fantilli’s, Adam goes crazy over you in your bikini, rough sex in the hotel shower & bed

UMICH

Ethan Edwards:

A little Death (Smut/Angst/Fluff)

Based off of the song A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

Good Kisser (Smut)

You give Ethan the best blowjob (and more) of his life after the team goes to the Frozen Four

Rutger McGroarty:

Oh Mama Don’t You Cry (Smut & Fluff)

Celebrating Team USA winning gold at World Juniors with Rutger

Hey Jealousy (Angst/Smut/Fluff)

Puck bunny hits on Rutger and you get jealous. Rutger shows you that you’re the only one for him…

Butterfly Kisses (Fluff)

Some cute date night fluff with Rutger

Ethan Edwards & Rutger McGroarty (Digital Animal):

Freaky Folks (Smut)

Ethan still has a thing or two to teach Rutger about how to make his girlfriend feel good (Sequel to Digital Animal)

Cruel Summer (Smut)

Rutger fingers you in the back of an Uber while you’re sitting on Ethan’s lap (Literally the scene from Icebreaker just with Ethan and Rutger)

Look After You (Angst & Fluff)

After an argument with Ethan and Rutger, you go to a party out of spite. When things go south, the boys are there to rescue you despite your fight from earlier

The Hills (Smut)

Loosely based off of The Hills by The Weeknd, lots of sneaking around with Rutger behind teammates backs

Luca Fantilli:

Lucky Charm (Fluff)

Celebrating Luca’s first goal with him since you started dating

Mark Estapa:

Cherry Flavoured (Smut)

Based on Cherry Flavoured by The Neighbourhood

if you have questions or thoughts about any of these, feel free to send some asks!🤍

[mermaidinthecity]

This album is called FEARLESS, and I guess I’d like to clarify why we chose that as the title. To me, FEARLESS is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid. To me, FEARLESS is having fears. FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before. FEARLESS is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen. FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again…even though every time you’ve tried before, you’ve lost. It’s FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change. FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them. I think it’s FEARLESS to fall for your best friend, even though he’s in love with someone else. And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they’ll never stop doing, I think it’s FEARLESS to stop believing them. It’s FEARLESS to say “you’re NOT sorry”, and walk away. I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS. Letting go is. Then, moving on and being alright…That’s FEARLESS too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and prince charmings and happily ever after. That’s why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS.

THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU

I want to thank my family. Austin, thank you for understanding all of this and never getting frustrated. I love you with all my heart and I’m so proud of you. Mom, you’re my best friend and your laugh keeps me sane. Dad, thank you for your help selling t-shirts and playing the role of “proud dad” 24/7.

Nathan, my brilliant producer, thank you for your intuition. Thank you for your talent, I’m lucky to have you.

Liz Rose, you’ve never stopped standing by me.

To my wonderful little record label that has grown quite a bit since the days of no furniture, fresh paint, and 12 employees…Thank you. I’ll never forget the days of sitting on the floor, putting cds into envelopes to send “Tim McGraw” out to radio.

Scott Borchetta, thank you for believing in me since I was 14 and still trying to straighten my hair. You’re family.

Robert Allen, thank you for all of your hard work on the road and your lovely British accent.

To my promotions team, thank you for all the number one singles! Jayme Austin, Mandy McCormack, Jeff Davis, Erik Powell, Larry Hughes, and Jack Purcell. Also, Andrew Kautz, John Zarling, Allison Jones, Whitney Sutton, and everyone at the Big Machine.

Thank you to Monte Lipman, Joel Klaiman, and everyone at Universal!

I love you Emily Evans. Jason Hutcheson, thank you for looking out for me.

Sandi Spika, thank you for your pretty dresses and glam assistance.

Lorrie Turk, thank you for your awesome make up skills and wonderful laugh.

Paula Erickson, you’re an amazing publicist and anyone would be lucky to be your client. 😉 You’re the best publicist EVER.

Claudine Ottinger, thanks for all the tour press! Kelly Rich, you’re wonderful.

Duane Clark, thanks for helping me learn the business end of things.

Mike Milom, thank you for endlessly combing through my contracts. Crazy lawyers…Troy Tomlinson at Sony/ATV Publishing, you make me happy, Greg Oswald (You’re incredible), Dave Wirchtshafter (You get it done basically you’re awesome), Jason Trawick (You’re hilarious and awesome), and all my friends at William Morris.

Thank you to country radio. I remember riding in the back of a Taurus on radio tour, and meeting you all for the first time. Look at what you’ve done for me!

Thank you to CMT, GAC, and MTV.

Colbie, thank you for lending your angelic voice to this album. It’s an honor to have you as a co-writer and friend.

Abigail, distance has never held us back and it won’t now that you’re at college. Best friends. That will never change.

Kellie Pickler, you’re the sister I never had.

To my band, “The Agency”, you are family. Caitlin Evanson, Paul Sidoti, Grant Mickelson, Al Wilson, Amos Heller, Ben Clark…Thank you for dressing up in crazy costumes because you know it makes me laugh.

Thank you to the people with the hard jobs — My crew and bus drivers.

But most of all, thank you to the fans. I’m nothing without you. Nothing. I’ll never forget that.

I want to thank you for giving me this life, from the bottom of my heart. With everything I have and everything I am, I thank you. I’m nothing without the people who believed in me and my music enough to go out and buy a copy of the first CD…or the people who bought tickets to see me in concert. So the final thank you goes out to you.

Fans are the reason I even have a second album coming out. I love you. Thank you for all you do. Endlessly. l’ll always thank you, and I thank God every day for putting you in my life.

And to the boys who inspired this album, you had fair warning.

FEARLESSLY, LOVELOVELOVE-T-

— Taylor Swift, Fearless (2008)

[starry-hughes]

the hughes all have one bracelet / necklace / jewelry that mooch made for them and they consider their lucky charm. what is each of their lucky charm jewelry?

luke: mooch and him have matching necklaces with each others numbers on it

quinn: a bracelet with a Q bead on it!

jack: a bracelet with the devs and osu colors. everyone always thinks it’s just for the devs and jack is like “it’s actually for my baby squish!”

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT— JACK HUGHES (PART NINE)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

notes: i’m finally up to the games that i attended! pictures 5 and 9 were taken by me at this game! fun fact: dawson and the equipment guy actually posed for that pic for me after his hat trick <3

y/ndevils00

liked by dawson1417, john.marino97, and 34,186 others

y/ndevils00 hey! hi! how are ya?! i’m great thanks for asking because MY BEST FRIEND GOT HIS VERY FIRST HAT TRICK!!

let me preface tonight’s recap post by saying that i’m aware that there were 3 goal scorers in tonights 5-1 win against the penguins, and i’m proud of dougie, timo, and ALL of the guys for their hard work tonight. however, tonight’s recap is slightly different because it’s focused mainly on my very own best friend!

my puppy, my sun, the godfather to my child, best friend number 1, my favorite person in the world (jack look away), dawson mercer. you got your first career hat trick and i could not be more proud of you! i’m so glad i was healed from my debilitating illness (i had a cold) and was able to witness it in person! i’m not saying i’m your lucky charm but… slap me in green and call me a leprechaun! 🍀

i’m so happy for you, dawson! i love you so very much! here’s to this being the first of very many!

p.s. it would not be a y/n postgame post if i didn’t have a couple pics of my favorite ipad kid snuck in there <3 you did great tonight, my beautiful princess!

tagged dawson1417 and jackhughes

dawson1417 thank you best friend number 3! i’m glad you were there to see me hit this milestone! here’s to many more! love you so very much! ❤️

y/ndevils00 you are actually my very favorite person in this entire world! i’m so insanely over the moon for you right now! drinks?

dawson1417 drinks!

user68 wait i always thought the “best friend number 1 and 2” was just y/n being silly about dawson and marino, but they actually have assigned numbers?! 🥹 that’s so cute!

jackhughes so happy for you merc! @/dawson1417

dawson1417 thanks hughesy! ‘preciate it!

y/ndevils00 my two favorite people 🥹 where’s my other?!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 right here!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras k well we all know i wasn’t talking about u, lucifer’s favorite child

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 i’m scared to ask but is it me?

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 THERE HE IS! all 3 of my people <3

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 you’re being lovey to marino… how much did you drink tonight babe?

y/ndevils00 oh so much

john.marino97 @/dawson1417 so proud of you man!

dawson1417 thanks bro!

y/ndevils00 my boys 🥹

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 you’re weirding me out now. stop being nice. it’s unnatural

y/ndevils00 alright ur done. ur booted down with trevor

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 what did i ever do to you?!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras exist.

jackhughes babe, you gotta stop referring to our cat as your child. you’re gonna make people think we actually have a kid

y/ndevils00 we literally do?? lil satan IS our child

jackhughes she’s a cat.

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier you’ve gained a child and a y/n. congratulations!

nicohischier yay! i’ve always wanted those!

jackhughes @/nicohischier stay away from MY y/n!

trevorzegras i don’t go here but congrats dude!

dawson1417 thanks dude!

y/ndevils00 stay away from my best friend, demon!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 doesn’t feel too good does it?! stay away from jimbo!

y/ndevils00 too late! we already have a snap streak!

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale tell me it isn’t so!

jamie.drysdale do you want the truth or a lie?

nicohischier congratulations merc! ❤️

dawson1417 thank you cap!

jesperbratt did you take that last picture through the glass?

y/ndevils00 yes. but i think you forgot something….

jesperbratt congrats @/dawson1417 !

dawson1417 thanks bratter!

y/ndevils00 much better

[hischierdevils]

Kill My Time | J.H.

note: based on the song Kill My Time by 5sos

summary: jack always has to share you and he's getting tired of it

warning: slight angst, fluff

wc: 2.1K

Meet me downtown at the dive bar

You're the only one that makes me feel alive

I can't keep drowning in the shadows

You're the only one that matters

Saying that Jack was excited for you to move to New York full time was an understatement. Your families were close growing up and you were always hanging around Jack and his brothers. Every good non-hockey memory he had included you and he was excited to have you to himself for a while without Quinn and Luke interfering. 

During the first game of his that you attend alone, you sit by the ice wearing his jersey. He scores twice, pointing to you as he cellys. You’re excited for him and it reminds you of watching him play hockey when you were growing up. 

After the game, you join him and a few of his teammates at a bar in Hoboken. “Y/n!” Jack’s running up to you as soon as you step foot in the bar. He picks you up and spins you around, causing you to giggle. 

“Hey, Jacky. You played great tonight.” You tell him as he sets you back down on your feet. 

He grins at you. “I had my lucky charm watching me.” 

You roll your eyes and playfully push him away. “You’re so cheesy Hughes.” 

“There she is!” Dawson walks over to you and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you, y/n.”

“It’s good to see you too, Dawson.” Is Jack seeing things or are you blushing at his friend as he lets go of you?

Jack and Dawson lead you to the bar where they buy your first drink. A few of his other teammates come over and Dawson beats Jack to the introductions. “This is y/n, she grew up with Jack. She’s practically his sister.” 

Jack tries to hide his annoyance as you look at him proudly. He’s protective of you of course, but none of his feelings are brotherly toward you. He’s never gotten a chance to tell you how he feels because he’s used to being overshadowed by his brothers. And now his best friend it seems. 

“So you’ve got all the dirt on Hughes?” John Marino asks you. 

You flash Jack a devilish grin and take a sip of your drink. “I’ve got a couple embarrassing stories for Jacky, yeah.” 

“Y/n, I've got just as many stories about you.” He reminds you with a wink. 

“She’s an angel, what are you talking about?” Dawson pulls you into his side and Jack forces himself to take a sip of his drink before he reaches for you. 

It seems like his teammates are all eager to get to know you as you spend most of the night talking to them, barely giving Jack any attention at all. He almost wishes he didn’t invite you so he wouldn’t have to share.

When Dawson asks Jack for his permission to take you on a date it puts him in a tough spot. He immediately wants to say no but he’s not prepared to answer the questions that will bring. He finds himself nodding and saying yes, hoping you’ll turn Dawson down. It hurts like hell when you agree.  

He's only got half of your heart

'Cause I've got the other part

Why don't you just say goodbye now?

It's only a matter of time now

“Dawson told me he asked for your permission.” You make eye contact with Jack in the mirror as you get ready at his apartment. You’ve been practically living with him on the weekends, staying in his guest bedroom.  

“He did.” Jack confirms as he turns his attention to the phone in his hand. He mindlessly scrolls through instagram, looking for a distraction. 

“I’m surprised you gave it to him.” Your voice is a lot closer now and he’s surprised to see you standing beside him as he looks up. 

The red dress you picked to wear tonight hugs your curves a little too closely and he has to clear his throat before he can speak. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I just thought-” You blush and look away from him. “Forget it. Can you help me put my necklace on?” 

Jack takes the delicate chain from you and stands up as you turn your back to him. He brushes the hair off of your neck which causes goosebumps to rise on your skin. “You thought what?” He clips your necklace onto your neck and brings his hands down your arms, resting them on your wrists. 

You relax into him, pressing your back into his chest. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment before you say what’s been on your mind and in your heart. “Jack, we-” 

A knock on the door causes the two of you to jump apart. “I’ll get it.” He grumbles before walking out of his spare bedroom. You check yourself out in the mirror, making sure your hair and makeup still look good before taking a deep breath. 

If anything was going to happen between you and Jack it would’ve happened already, right? You thought your crush on him would fade away as you got older but all time has done is make your feelings for him deeper. 

You haven’t told him how you feel, too afraid to ruin the friendship, and now you’re about to go on a date with his friend. You hear the two of them laugh in the living room and you know you can’t stall anymore. You remind yourself that Dawson’s a nice guy before walking out of the spare bedroom. 

Both boys stop talking and stare at you as you approach. “Wow.” Dawson glances over at Jack before turning his attention back to you. “You look amazing, y/n.” 

“Thank you.” You smile as you look down at your outfit. The red dress was probably too much but you were hoping that it would elicit something from Jack. “I hope I didn’t overdress.” You add once you notice Dawson’s jeans.

“Don’t worry, I'm flexible.” Dawson winks at you which seems to annoy Jack. “I can change the plans.” He puts an arm around you and begins to lead you to the door. 

“Should I stay up?” Jack attempts to make a joke but it falls flat. You turn to look at him, unsure of what to say. 

“I don’t keep a girl out late on the first date, Hughesy.” Dawson brushes him off. “See you later.” 

“Bye, Jack.” You give him a little wave before letting Dawson lead you out the door and down to his car. Once you’re both inside, you sit in awkward silence. 

“I’ve got to be honest…I didn’t think he’d let me get this far.” Dawson’s words cause you to look at him in surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“I thought that if I asked him if I could take you on a date he’d realize he had feelings for you. When he said yes, I was hoping you’d turn me down and admit your feelings for him.” Dawson laughs. “I guess you two are perfect for each other because you’re both stubborn.”

“So you don’t actually want to date me?” Dawson’s words sink in slowly. “You think he has feelings for me?”

“I know he does, y/n.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel of the still-parked car. “He doesn’t ever shut up about you. I’ve seen the way you look at him, too. One of you needs to admit your feelings.” 

“I can’t.” You say quickly. “I took the job in New York just to be close to him. I can’t ruin our friendship.”

Dawson sighs and starts the car. “Where do you want to go on our date then?”

Dancing in the dark 'til the sun comes

Tangled in the sheets 'til the day's done

I don't wanna kill my time with somebody else

In a city full of lonely people, I just want you all to myself

Jack wants to run after you the second you walk out the door with Dawson but he restrains himself. He knows you’ve gone on dates before, even met some of your serious boyfriends, but this feels different. It feels like the beginning of the end for him. 

He tries to keep himself busy. He attempts to play video games and then switches over to a hockey game when that doesn't work. He can’t help but wonder what the two of you are doing. 

Did Dawson take you to dinner? You’re a picky eater but Dawson doesn’t know that. He should probably order you food because you’re going to be hungry after only eating a salad. Would he take you to the movies? Or dancing? Did he take you somewhere where he could keep you close to him? Put his hands on your body…

He jumps to his feet, no longer content to sit here and wait for you. It’s been over two hours and he hasn’t heard from either of you. Oh god, what if you’re having a good time? Could he handle the two of you as a couple?

He paces the apartment, considering his options. If he tells you how he feels about you and you reject him, that could be the end of your friendship. If you feel the same way, then what? How would a relationship work when he’s traveling all the time?

Just as Jack has finished plotting Dawson’s murder, the door to his apartment opens. You walk in laughing, wearing Dawson’s jacket around your shoulders. Your cheeks are flushed and you're smiling at Dawson as he finishes whatever joke he’s telling you. Jack’s seeing red as he meets the two of you in the foyer.

“Where have you guys been?” He demands as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

Your smile fades as you look at Jack. “We were out.”

“Out?” Jack scoffs. “Four nearly three hours? What happened to not keeping her out late?” He turns his attention to Dawson. 

“Seriously dude?” Dawson tries and fails to keep a straight face. Jack frowns as you and Dawson share a look and start laughing. “If you didn’t want me to go out with her you should’ve said something!” 

“I didn’t…I don’t…”

Taking pity on Jack, you shrug out of Dawson’s coat and give it back to him. “We got dinner and went to an arcade.” 

“You went to an arcade wearing that?” Jack motions to your tight dress and heels. 

“I controlled the air hockey table for an hour thank you.” You inform him. 

“Because most of the guys were too distracted to watch your hands.” Dawson laughs. Jack clenches his jaw and Dawson takes that as his cue to leave. “I’ll see you guys later. It was fun hanging out with you, y/n.” 

“You too, Daws.” You walk him to the door as Jack stays rooted to his spot, trying hard to keep himself in check. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“No kiss goodbye?” Jack notices. “Are you going to see him again?” 

You walk up to Jack and stop right in front of him. “Do you want me to see him again?” 

Jack opens his mouth, ready to tell you that he doesn’t care but he knows he can’t watch you go on another date. “No. I don’t want you seeing anyone.” He places his hands on your hips before he can stop himself, pulling you into him. “I want you to be with me, y/n.” 

You smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “You couldn’t have told me that three hours ago? My feet are killing me, Hughes.” 

He laughs and grabs your thighs, lifting you up so you can wrap your legs around him. “Is that a yes?”

“Kiss me and find out.” He doesn’t have to be told twice, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You kiss him back hungrily, tugging his hair so he opens his mouth slightly allowing you to slide your tongue in. 

He groans as he pulls away from you and carries you to his bedroom, setting you down gently on his bed. “Dawson planned this didn’t he?” Jack chuckles as he helps you take off your heels. 

“Yes.” You moan as he takes the painful shoes off your feet and he raises an eyebrow at you. “He did.”

“Baby, please don’t ever make those sounds when I’m talking about Dawson again.” He says seriously. 

You grip the collar of his shirt and pull him up to you. “Then stop talking about him because there’s a lot of sounds I can make.” 

He grins and kisses you again, slowly leaning you back on the bed. “I ordered food because I figured you’d be hungry.” He murmurs as you break apart.

“Oh my god, you’re the best.” You kiss his nose before sitting up. “All I had was a salad.”

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

deleted tweet - jack hughes

jack hughes x singer!reader

fc: gracie abrams

warnings: swearing

liked by alishaboe, stephbohrer and 329,246 others

ynofficial: rest sing read repeat

view all comments

fan3: be honest how mad were you that the sing didn't match the mantra?

ynofficial: i had to put my phone down and contemplate stuff for half an hour before i could even post it

fan4: SOUTH AMERICA TOUR WHEN???

fan5: so about your tweet...

fan6: finish the sentence and reveal ur man or else

ynofficial: that's the friendliest threat i've ever had omg ur adorable

ynofficial added to their story

liked by trevorzegras, nhl and 114,875 others

jhughes: ;)

view all comments

fan7: i burnt my finger liking this bc it's so hot

fan8: miss u

fan9: marry me immediately

fan10: the last picture?????? girl???????

fan11: he got one i think yeah sorry

fan12: pls don't hurt yourself

liked by tchalamet, rainsford and 341,835 others

ynofficial: when i tell you this trip was spontaneous i mean we booked it and left in two hours

view all comments

fan13: some might say that's called character development

ynofficial: (+anxiety)

fan14: respectfully your man's back is filthy fine

liked by ynofficial

fan15: invite me next time

fan16: timothee?????

fan17: let's not get ahead of ourselves

liked by ynofficial and 147,186 others

jhughes: my spotify wrapped in two photos

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fan18: dw we're y/n fans too

_quinnhughes: very subtle

lhughes_06: he's shooting his shot

fan19: she liked so i'd say his shot was pretty accurate

liked by jhughes, colecaufield and 300,163 others

ynofficial: wow. why am i blushing rn?

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fan20: next album about jack hughes confirmed?

ynofficial: well they're definitely love songs i'll say that

fan21: love songs????? THEY'RE NOT DEPRESSING?????????

fan22: yk what? idc what anyone says i ship it

trevorzegras: if you come to anaheim i'll show you a better time

jhughes: i forbid it no way

fan23: not them fighting for yn in the comments

liked by ynofficial, nicohischer and 425,285 others

jhughes: best year with my girl, love you to the moon and to saturn

view all comments

trevorzegras: you owe me $50

jhughes: no that's not what we agreed

trevorzegras: but you got caught before announcing it

fan24: trevor read the room

fan25: wish someone would take photos of me like that

ynofficial: fuck i'm so in love it's embarrassing

jhughes: it's part of my charm, dear

fan26: THE TAYLOR REFERENCE!!!!!!! dying

liked by baileybass, claudiasulewski and 582,543 others

ynofficial: when you smile i swear i die a little. my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder, easily

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ynofficial: also, if you didn't get it, i really love this man

ynofficial: on the back of that, jhughes, thank you for allowing me to relate to the happy taylor songs!

liked by jhughes

fan27: i'm crying

fan26: parents

fan27: teaser of new lyrics??

ynofficial: yes, and i can confirm that the new album is about jack

fan28: i squealed

fan29: what about that tweet you deleted?

ynofficial: there are children here! i refuse to be blamed for destroying their innocence

fan30: omg jack getting annoyed at trevor for saying you should go to anaheim makes so much more sense

fan31: you guys have been dating since january?????

jhughes: god i'm so lucky

liked by ynofficial