#new jersey devils rpf

[heliads]

this city reeks of driving myself crazy

Jack Hughes misses his captain. Nico Hischier isn't acting like he misses Jack. Obviously, there are going to be problems.

masterlist

Nico is coming back from the mens’ world championships. Jack is trying not to act as if he has been waiting for this since the moment Nico left. 

The thought occurs to him halfway through physical therapy. Jack is in the middle of fifteen reps of some bullshit exercise involving resistance bands and a great deal of relief that no one can see him like this when he realizes that, soon, a plane will touch down and a man will get off, and that man will be Nico, and maybe everything will be okay again after all. 

Not everything, obviously. Nico coming back does not remove Jack’s shoulder surgery from this plane of existence, though, trusting his captain, it’ll probably make him feel a little better about it. Jack has already heard far too many whispers taking great delight in his absence— all it takes is one injury, and people are throwing words out there like career-ending and out for good. Nico would never say that. He would look at Jack thoughtfully, carefully, and tell him he expects to see Jack out on the ice again as soon as he can. Jack would do it, too. Anything if asked. He is a dog left at home too long, scratching at the door, waiting for the footsteps approaching down the hall to tell him he is not alone anymore. Someone will come for him, and then he will be alright. 

Jack will not tolerate the idea of a career-ending anything. The idea makes him sick to his stomach. He could never do anything but play. Being a spectator just might make Jack lose it once and for all. Imagining his team, his Devils, shooting back and forth across the ice, hearing the clash of the puck against their sticks, and then being separated from it all on the other side of the plastic dividers— it would drive him mad. Watching them win or lose and being unable to do a thing. Knowing he was no better than any of the other fans in the audience. He could wear a cheap copy of Nico’s jersey and jump up in his seat whenever the Devils scored and it would kill him more decisively than a gun to the head. 

So Jack does the stupid PT and he takes his pain meds and he goes to bed early, doesn’t drink, watches himself and his temper. And the door, mainly. Wondering if Nico will take him up on the offer he made a few days before the plane takes off:  Congrats man! U can come by my place to catch up if u want btw. 

He’d sent the text, bit back a scream, hurled his phone across the room to land on the sofa, immediately scurried over to check if Nico had responded (he had not), screamed for real this time, then taken more pills and stared at the ceiling for a while. All in a day’s work. 

And, when he checked back in the next morning, there was no return message. Nor the next day, either. It pisses Jack off to no end. Everyone’s always on their phones. There’s no way Nico hasn’t seen the text, so he simply isn’t responding because he doesn’t feel like it, which is just mean to such a good team player as Jack Hughes.

Stewing in his own self-righteous irritation, Jack intentionally ignores Nico’s text when it comes three days late. He glares at the notification bitterly, hoping that Nico can somehow sense it on the other end. Jack goes on Instagram in the hopes of distracting himself, but ends up seeing a post on how Nico’s plane has landed back in the States.

He’s back, then. Against his best intentions, Jack checks the text. Nico, 3 AM, Yeah, for sure. No date, no time for a meet-up. A pacifying answer that has absolutely no pacifying effect. Jack rages and rambles for two hours before he caves and texts back, was the flight good?

Twenty minutes later, the phone dings. Jack dives for it, immediately cursing his bad shoulder when it starts to twinge, and holds up the phone in trembling fingers only to register that Nico has replied with a thumbs up.

He’s going to slaughter the captain. He’s going to slaughter the captain and become the new captain and never do this to anyone ever again, ever. This is so stupid. Nico is capable of texting. Jack is capable of responding normally to a friendship disrupted by frequent flights and international games and only one of them having a fucked up shoulder. Right now, though, neither of them are acting like it.

He is proud of Nico, of course. Glad for him to have that opportunity and all that. But the ice seems extra cold when it’s quiet, and Jack hasn’t been able to feel his fingers in weeks, too many days below zero. He wants Nico back. Of course he does. He just hadn’t expected the wanting to take over him like this, wrapping brittle bones and surgery scars in a dense web of hurt that not even the painkillers can dull. 

Jack tries not to let the silence bother him, but, of course, it does. He goes to PT again. He calls his brothers one by one and hears them talk. He cleans up his apartment in case he gets a visitor, and maybe karma truly is real, because after several days of being a Good Person, Nico finally texts back and says, I can drop by Thurs evening if that’s cool?

Immediately, a jealous demon in his chest tells Jack that he should ignore Nico, just to get him back. Let Nico be the one waiting on the other line, wondering what he did to deserve the silence. Jack’s super good at being bitter if he wants it, and he feels mistreated enough to lash out.

Yeah. Sounds good.

He sends the text with his eyes closed, as if that makes it better. Like it isn’t Jack who caves but someone else, a doppelganger in Devils sweatpants slumped on the sofa in his apartment. Not his fault. Another thumbs up in response, which brings the anger back in force. Nico, of course, has the time to be casual in his responses. He’s the one who gets to swing by out of the blue. He can do anything he wants to, and Jack simply has to respect that.

When Thursday comes around, Jack finds himself mad enough to bite. It isn’t a good way to greet his captain. It isn’t a good way to meet with his friend. But Jack has been ignored for so long– calls unanswered, texts left on read– and he’s always devoured Nico’s attention far more greedily than anyone else. It’s not his fault that the crushing isolation left him sharp and smarting.

A knock on the door echoes around the problem, temporarily startling Jack out of the acidic monotony of his thoughts. He doesn’t need to check the door to know who it is. Only Nico would drop by like this, unannounced. Only Nico would assume Jack would be there to meet him with the bare minimum of text messages.

He could make Nico wait, and Jack certainly takes his time getting to the door, but then he’s hovering in front of the peephole and he can see a silhouette idling there for him, and it’s been so long since he saw Nico at all that Jack knows he doesn’t have it in him to keep Nico lingering any longer. Whatever happens, happens. But at least he’ll have a good face to look at in the meantime.

Jack’s hand jerks out, heavy on the knob, and then he swings the door open to reveal Nico standing there, hanging back from the threshold. His dark hair has crept out over his eyes, and it hides his face even more than the shadows of the poor high lighting. The contrast from the gasping fluorescents overhead paints dark hollows under his eyes, dramatic on his cheekbones. 

It reminds Jack of the Baroque portraits from the art museum the Devils had visited a while back. The PR agents wanted the players to seem more well-rounded or something. Bullshit. Jack had hated the trip, bored almost to tears with the slow pace of their guide, and he hates it now. Jack doesn’t want perfect art. He wants something real for the first time in months, and seeing his flawlessly posed captain makes him want to dirty that good bone structure with blood or his knuckles. Or both.

Nico raises his tragically beautiful eyes to Jack, waiting for something. Still brimming with bitterness, Jack says roughly, “Good to see you again,” and jerks his chin towards the inside of his apartment.

Nico takes the hint and slides past Jack, somehow able to go without touching him even though Jack had barely left him a few inches of room. Smooth on and off the ice. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Nice place,” Nico says, tugging off his coat and depositing it on a nearby kitchen chair.

“You’ve been here before,” Jack mutters.

Nico glances back towards him, arching a thick brow. “Does that mean I should say it looks like shit, then? It’s still nice even if this isn’t my first time seeing it.”

Jack laughs before he can choke it out. Although Nico hadn’t given any indication of being worried, his face relaxes microscopically. There’s no change Jack can name, nothing obvious like falling brows or slackening cheeks, but he knows the shift in feeling like it happened to himself.

“How’s the injury?” Nico asks, walking back to him.

“How do you think?” Jack spits, looking at the ground.

Nico tsks under his breath. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Jack says out of impulse. “The guys at PT say I’ll be back on ice soon. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not just worried about what happens to you on the ice,” Nico says, voice low. “Off the ice matters too.”

Jack wants to laugh. He doesn’t, this time. Nothing’s funny. “You have some way of showing it.”

Nico does manage to look distinctly embarrassed this time. “I was busy,” he says simply.

It’s a bullshit excuse and Nico knows it too, so he covers for it by tugging impatiently at the thick material of Jack’s shirt. “Show me.”

“What?” Jack asks, tough demeanor seriously slipping for the first time all night.

“The shoulder,” Nico says, as if this is a normal thing to ask after being alone in Jack’s apartment with no one except Jack to ask what the fuck is going on. “Show me. I want to see how bad it looks.”

“It’s a shoulder,” Jack mumbles. “Imagine it.”

Nico fixes him with a look, one brow half cocked. Jack knows this look from practices, from games. It means, do you really want to fight me on this one? Jack usually does, but even this is too stupid a battle for him to pick, so he shuts up long enough to bat Nico’s hand off his shirt like a fleck of dust and do as told. He had meant to pull the top off in one smooth movement, but his shoulder disagrees midway through and the motion ends up being a little more awkward than he’d hoped.

Then he’s standing in front of Nico, shirt off, and under the overhead light of his kitchen, he feels far more on display than he likes. Jack has shown far more bruised and battered skin than this, of course, years’ worth of locker rooms have long since stripped him of any shame around teammates, but it’s different like this. Like this– with no other eyes than Nico’s, which swoop over him with such obvious care that hot embarrassment starts to churn deep in Jack’s stomach. He doesn’t like the feeling, but he doesn’t put the shirt back on, either. Or tell Nico to stop looking.

Nico’s hand darts out again, like he can’t stop himself. The fingers rise to Jack’s shoulder, ghosting over the skin. At first, Nico’s touch is gentle, and then he finds a slow-blossoming bruise and presses, not sharply enough to hurt but enough to make the dull ache bloom again in the precise shape of Nico’s thumb. Caught in the force of it, the air leaves Jack’s lungs in a low groan that seems to catch in his chest, deep in his throat.

He expects Nico to snatch his hand away and start making apologies like everyone else when they find out what a broken little thing he really is, but instead, Nico leans forward, into the sound. He doesn’t press any harder, but he looks like he wants to. And Jack– Jack might want that, too.

Nico’s tongue appears at the corner of his mouth, licking his lips before he continues. Jack watches with the hunger of a famine. “You should be careful,” Nico says huskily.

“Why?” Jack asks, fighting to keep his voice casual. “Going to bench me, cap?”

Nico’s hand spasms slightly, thumb curling further into the dark flower of the bruise before he stops himself. Jack can’t remember if he’s ever seen Nico react to the title like that, but Nico hasn’t had his hands on Jack like this before, either.

“I could do anything,” Nico whispers. Jack isn’t sure if they’re talking about hockey anymore. He isn’t sure that they ever were.

He snickers. “You can’t keep me off forever.”

Nico drags his gaze from the bruise to Jack’s eyes. “You always were the troublemaker, weren’t you? Not even Dawson’s as bad. Not even Luke. Always mouthing off.”

Something shifts indignantly in the pit of Jack’s stomach at the mention of his brother. He’d do anything to get Nico’s focus off Luke and back on him, where it belongs, so he says, “What’re you going to do? Shut me up?”

“Maybe,” Nico hesitates over the word, drawing out the syllables as he trails his hand away from the bruise and onto the thin, puckered line of a scar along Jack’s shoulder. He grazes his nails over the hardened skin, making Jack hiss, not from hurt but something else, something worse and better at the same time.

With Nico focused on the scar and not Jack anymore, he’s free to say something stupid again, no longer pinned under the weight of two dark eyes. So he grins, wide and bold and goddamn brainless, and says, “Make me.”

Nico’s eyes snap up to his again. There is an unwritten rule in hockey, practically a mandate, that the captain is the captain for a reason, and if anyone tries to fight that, it is the captain’s moral obligation to prove why he’s wearing the C and not anyone else. Even if the one causing trouble is an alternate. Even if it’s Jack.

Nico’s mouth is hot and assertive when it collides with Jack’s. Jack was ready for something but not for this, and he stumbles back from the force of the kiss. Nico’s arm whips behind him, catching Jack by the hip and bringing him back in, stopping him from a fall. Jack is reminded vividly of all the times they’re on the ice, one of them crashing into the other; the natural, instinctive urge to latch on and never let go. 

Nico’s eyes are closed and then Jack’s are, too. He lets the kiss swallow him whole, blocking out the shoulder and the games and everything else. Jack thinks he could stay there forever, hooked on Nico like his first drink, but then the older boy breaks away, even when Jack tries to chase his lips, needy as ever. Nico leans his forehead on Jack’s, both of them breathing hard like they’ve run a mile. 

“See? I like you quiet,” Nico says, breath gusting onto Jack’s face with every word.

“Shut up,” Jack says, and kisses him again, biting Nico’s lip petulantly to get him back.

Nico just chuckles, curling his free hand into the back of Jack’s head. Jack actually gasps when Nico tugs his hair, giving Nico more of his mouth, letting the kiss take him apart again and again. 

This time, Jack is the one to pull away first, and in the sliver of space between their lips Nico whispers, “I missed you.”

“You haven’t been acting like it,” Jack mutters, and squirms when Nico knots his fingers in Jack’s hair again.

“That’s what the attitude is about? I forgot to respond to a few texts and you get all stubborn?” Nico asks incredulously.

“It wasn’t just a few texts,” Jack pouts, “You keep ditching me. Thought you didn’t want to talk to me at all.”

Nico pulls away for real this time, leans back far enough that Jack can see his entire face instead of snatches of lips and eyes and red cheeks. The look on his face, it isn’t angry or annoyed– it’s fond. Satisfied. “I always want to talk to you, Jack. Don’t you know that?”

“I didn’t when you were ignoring me,” Jack murmurs.

The hand in his hair relaxes, combing gently through the locks instead of twisting them. “Alright,” Nico says, still painfully enamored, “That’s my mistake, then. Let me apologize.”

Jack lets him. Happily. The offseason is long. If he tries, he can drag this out for a long time, make Nico make it up to him for months. Jack isn’t ashamed to admit that he’ll do it as long as he can. Better yet, Nico will let him, and know what he’s up to the whole time anyway.

That’s the best part about them, Jack supposes. They know each other. On and off the ice. On and off each other. Maybe it’ll be a long summer, but God, it’s going to be a good one.

hockey tag list: empty for now!

talked about this to @faerieroyal ily

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[formulanni]

For just a second, I saw Persephone, pomegranate in hand. Dooming herself to the underworld.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009 @korolrezni-nikolai @d00dlespng @juwaiin

[hugheschierdaddy]

bringing this back tonight bc of a certain someone’s two goals and assist against the rags!

and another certain someone CUTTING HIS HAIR!!!!

[swissboyhisch]

The Littlest Devil

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: The team were excited to meet baby Hughes. But you got to surprise the team when they come to visit for the first time.

Word Count: 574

Warnings: Babys and fluff

A/N: Shout out to one of my friends on here! My darling mutual asked for Dad!Jack and here it is.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

With the Devils’ season finished it meant your boyfriend could spend time at home with you and your newborn daughter. The little girl was 2 weeks old, and you had spent the weeks tucked in bed with your mother-in-law waiting on you, hand and foot. You were allowed to leave the bed. If it wasn’t Ellen, it was one of the other girlfriends or wives you were close with from the team. They had supported you well while Jack had been finishing the rest of the season. 

“Are you sure you want the team to come over?” Jack asked for the millionth time as you got dressed in something other than pyjamas. “We can always reschedule if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You rolled your eyes at Jack’s protectiveness but wasn’t surprised. He was holding your baby girl against his bare chest as you changed. He swayed side to side, pressing a kiss to her head. The two of you stand and admire your baby when you finish getting dressed. She looked so much like you but with Jack’s eyes and a hint of curls on her head. Just like her daddy.

“I want to see my niece,” a voice spoke up coming up the stairs. Luke poked his head in and lit up seeing Jack hold his niece. He immediately held out his arms as he closed in on Jack. “Give her here.”

Jack relented after Luke didn’t take no for an answer. He passed Luke the bub before he moved to hug you once more. The man looked into the mirror and admired you, swaying gently so as to not hurt you. 

“I’m out,” Luke chuckles when the two of you hug, taking the bub downstairs to leave you alone for a moment.

The pair of you took a moment to yourself. Jack smiles and twirls you slowly to admire the outfit. Seeing you thrive as a mother was making him love you so much more. The quiet moment between you was broken by the doorbell. You could hear the bell ring through the house.

“Some of your guests are here,” Ellen smiles as she spies you two coming down the stairs.

Jack was so excited to introduce his gorgeous girl to his favourite people in the world. Luke made sure to stay hidden from the team so as to not ruin you and Jack’s moment. Luke passed your little girl back to Jack before going into the lounge room first where the team was gathered. You and your little family took a moment before stepping into the view. 

“Looking hot mama,” Nico grinned, going to hug you. 

“Thanks Cap,” You smile, accepting the hug.

Nico turned to his best friend and awed when he saw your baby up close. She was the perfect mix of the two of you if you ask him. The cute little New Jersey Devils jumpsuit was the perfect outfit to introduce her to the team. 

Jack grinned, passing the babe to Nico, the guy who took him under his wing when he was first drafted, “It’s only fair the captain holds her first.”

“What’s her name? You didn’t tell us,” Dawson asks from his spot on the couch. 

“Nicola,” Jack reveals with a big grin, “Nicola Ellen Hughes. Named after my best friend who took me under his wing when I was drafted first to New Jersey just like him.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @linneasblog

[adelphenium]

hiiii i just found your art and i have become lowk obsessed (i sent a flower headshot piece to a friend and she is also in love). would u ever be interested in doing a nico+jack piece? i just think they're so goofy together, no pressure ofc!!!

some goofy hockeys with pocky..

(i also have another jacknico and an r63 version as well!)

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑-𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — counselor!JACK HUGHES x counselor!reader word count — 1.4k

note — i was (and still am) super proud of how i executed this concept, and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy re-reading it!

recommended viewing — friday the 13th (1980), fear street: 1978 (2021)

bingo squares and additional content warnings below the cut.

bingo squares — sex in water, risky location/exhibitionism, and fear play additional content warnings — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending... (kevin heimbach hive rise!)

“Y’know, for someone who is so paranoid about being caught, you sure scream like you aren’t.”

The lake smacks Jack Hughes’ chest just moments before the true expulsion of annoyance. The succinct burst of emotion is pre-packaged into a lame wave. One that only stokes his predisposition for button-pushing—hers being a personal favorite target of his.

“Y'know, for someone so desperate to get laid, you sure do everything to guarantee the only thing you'll be fucking is your hand."

Jack's jaw unhinges as if making ample room for whatever semi-clever perverted retort is bound to manifest, but it slams shut prematurely. His only response is a strained whimper accompanying an audible gulp.

Wide eyes bulging, his gaze never leaves the woody shore at your back.

"J-Jack, I'm serious. Cut it out. Right now."

Your blunt, conduct code-mandated nails slice their way through the sunburnt skin of his shoulders—the much-deserved consequence of brushing off the sunscreen you offered him prior to his afternoon shift at the canoes.

He hisses, mostly out of irritation, but keeps otherwise mum.

Unwittingly, further panic stirs in your gut at that, sending your tense face into his waiting chest.

"I-It's not funny—it never was. And it's absolutely not now, e-either. Please, Jack. Just, just knock it off, o-okay?"

"Or what, babe?"

His husky voice carries across the water and the trees rustle in response.

You loathe the way that innocuous noise shoves you deeper into his embrace, clutching onto his lithe, toned form like he isn't the instigator of your palpable distress.

"Stop pretending you see him, or I'll... I'll... —"

Any threat you could've come up with would've been hollow at best, you both know it. Even if you weren't strung out from a full day of covert teasing and stolen glances, your fear of what might lurk in the shadowy depths between you and the dock would be more than enough to keep you firmly planted.

Jack set himself up with yet another perfectly easy jump-scare, but as you helplessly cling to him like a soggy kitten at the mere implication of danger, he's presented with a better, more delicious opportunity to burrow under your thin skin.

Oh, how he lives to make you squirm.

Soft lips lower to your ear, "Is that really what you want? Because I don't think the lake's the only reason my dick is soaked."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Hughes."

You try and avoid his X-ray vision, but it doesn't matter. It hardly ever does.

"Really? Well, allow me to enlighten you, hm?"

His tone has you rolling your eyes even though he can't see them.

Jack holds you tighter, sharply bucking his hips until you whine, before he whispers, "I think you like when I scare you—or, at least, your pussy does. The poor thing, gushin' and squeezin' whenever you jump for me. Every damn time, babe. I damn near thought you'd squirted last time I got ya that good."

You grumble because he's right. Only about your physical reaction, of course. Definitely not the other things.

You definitely did not enjoy being scared shitless, and you definitely did not squirt when he pretended something—or someone—was pulling him under. You'd be damned if your first time doing that came at the hand of such juvenile flippancy.

"Quit talking and fuck me, Hughes. We don't have all night; Alice still isn't over the nightmares."

Every year, there was always one of those campers, and, this year, Alice was that one. A kid so freaked out by local legend that you have to wonder how their parent or guardian managed to get them up here in the first place. Or, why anyone thought sending them up into the mountains for the summer was a good idea to begin with.

It never takes long for the nightmares to start. Especially once the inaugural midnight bonfire passes and the sightings start making the rounds. Wind-carried screams, a flash of metal, the too-thick drip off of the leaves, torn flesh...

Everything in graphic detail, and every detail insomnia fodder at its peak.

If a camper lucked out, they had a counselor they could attach themselves to in the wee hours of the morning as they shook through waves of fear. Alice weaseled her way into your bunk every night this past week, bottom lip trembling as tears streamed down her face, always rambling about the same thing: a silent killer in a cheap mask wielding long, menacing blade.

Nightly, while you've donned a brave face, it's been as genuine as the plastic allegedly worn by the personified cautionary tale. Because, once upon a time, you had been that camper, too—and Jack had a front-row seat to your adolescent terror.

To this day, he finds your ardent belief in the legend a point of amusement.

He won't be laughing, though, when Alice finds your bunk empty and runs crying to the supervisor cabin, thinking you'd been the latest victim—the first in thirty years.

If you're going down, you're dragging jack hughes down with you. He can explain to your parents why you're home two months early—and unemployed.

His forehead falls to your shoulder, wafts of damp hair tickling the bare skin as he groans. Jack never bothers masking his ire. "That snot-nosed third grader is the last thing I want to think about when I'm balls-deep. Total boner-killer, babe."

"Jason Vorhees is the last thing I want to think about right now, but you never seem to care about that, do you?" you growl.

Your ankles tighten around his waist at just the thought of the camp's very own boogeyman.

If you were smart, you'd stop hooking up with the one person dead-set on sending you to an early grave all for a laugh.

The apparent inevitability of your trysts wasn't for a lack of options. No, every year there was plenty. But every year, Jack Hughes was the only peer you snuck out for.

After that many midnights, you would think his recycled material would lose its edge. Unfortunately for you, that's yet to happen.

You tug on a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck. He nips at your throat in retaliation; you don't have the confidence to tell him you like that, too.

"Fine, fine," he laments, eyes pinched shut and wincing. "Truce?"

"Truce," you nod and relinquish your tight grip. "Now, make me cum."

"Yes, ma'am."

"See? I told you it was fine. No wandering campers, no prying Visors," Jack hums, an arm looped around your shoulders. "And no hockey masks or machetes, either."

Your soft, grudging giggle harmonizes with the cicadas.

When you reach your cabin, he pecks your damp temple. "You should trust me more often."

You knew once you caved to the lake idea, he'd never let it go, but you'd be remiss if you said it didn't turn you on just as much as it did him. That, however, doesn't mean you're eager for an encore any time soon.

Next summer, perhaps. If he played his cards right.

"Yeah, right," you snort while eclipsing the two meager steps with him on your heels.

His ego is beginning to rub you the wrong way as your post-orgasm bliss fades. Still, you can't resist pulling him closer now that no one else is around.

Kiss-swollen lips ghosting over his, you whisper, "Over my dead body."

His eyes go dark; a rare flicker of concern. "Don't say shit like that, babe, you'll jinx it... And i've still got so much planned for your body."

"Well, it's a good thing you've got an entire summer, isn't it?"

"Only because you won't let me touch you outside of Camp Nightwing," jack huffs, mostly under his breath. His jaw is too tight, but his voice is louder, "Just think of what i could do with the other nine months."

He doesn't bother disguising the bitterness weighing on his voice or his conscience, and that alone is enough to make you skittish. It hurts to swallow, and the mounting nausea certainly isn't helping, but it's a necessary evil to rid yourself of the lump clawing up your throat.

Jack Hughes talks a big game, but that's all it'll ever be. A game.

You won't make the same mistake twice.

"Get lost before you wake my campers, Hughes." You wave your hand dismissively as you take a step back—and out of his magnetic field. "We've got a big day tomorrow."

He drops the complaint as easily as he championed it.

"I'm going, I'm going." Jack raises his hands in surrender, laughing as he backs away from the porch. "Wouldn't want to rob the little boogers of their last moments of peace before my reigning Color War champs kick their asses—for the fifth consecutive year."

Your reluctant affection glimmers in the moonlight as you shake your head. "I hate you so much."

"No, you don't!" Jack calls over his towel-clad shoulder.

You're still smiling when the screen door smacks the dilapidated wooden frame.

As his jubilant footsteps fade down the path and you settle in your bunk, a large shadow slips between the moon and the cabin's front window.

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[writingonleaves]

the blue au - nico hischier

i’ve never felt this close with someone, what if you’re my weakness? - the blue by gracie abrams

the bits and pieces of the life of clementine ana sandoval and nico hischier. a story of learning how to accept love as freely as you give it, looking after others and others looking after you.

main segments (in order)

i never could've seen you coming (sept. 2023 - april 2024)

got lovestruck, went straight to my head (april 2024 - jan. 2025)

additional supplements (can be read in any order)

and what if i really thought some miracle would see us through?

will you take a moment? promise me this

and there are some days when i think that, somewhere, you're watching

this pairing also appears in:

it's so hard to watch everything i want

reckless driving au

extras

meet our oc | playlist | instagram profile | social media posts

everything related to this au can be found in this tag! my ask box is also always open for any questions, so please feel free to ask away about this world :)

[eviebhere]

because it keeps coming across my dash and I am curious.

The meme: middle aged lady on my bus just called someone’s partner “your whimsical idiot boyfriend” over the phone . with sincere frustration might I add

[july-1804]

so beautiful, the space between | nico hischier/jack hughes, 5.2k

so beautiful, the space between | nico hischier/jack hughes, 5.2k

Jack lands in Detroit on a warm afternoon in early August with a gold medal winning husband, a teething toddler, two nagging brothers who hadn’t seen their niece in months (6 weeks), and a desire to win the Stanley Cup more than ever.

or, Jack has some big emotions and just wants to be a great husband to Nico, a badass dad to Mila, and more than a mediocre hockey player.

[formulanni]

Head in the clouds

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009 @korolrezni-nikolai @d00dlespng @juwaiin

[hugheschierdaddy]

jack learned where to get large posters printed.

the team was not amused with the new locker room decor.

this is, in fact, part of the roman josi quinn hughes nicojack olympics incident universe

[swissboyhisch]

It's About Time

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Hughes!Reader

Summary: Your first annual Devils Gala helps reveal hidden feelings for your brother's best friend and yourself.

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Alcohol mentions, kissing,

A/N: This is for @snugglyducklingbrewhouse's Birthday Bingo!! Happy birthday to one of my favourite girlies from the discord. Sorry it's a little late. I hope you enjoyed your birthday month <3

My choice of five bingo boxes were (second column from the left):

Friends to lovers

Works with/for the team

Team event

Brother’s best friend

Comfort

I really hope you enjoy this! I'm really happy how this turned out :)

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Tonight was the annual New Jersey Devils Gala, and you were lucky enough not to have to work the event. As the photographer for the team, you would usually be asked to work nights such as these. But thankfully, your boss decided you could have the night off as it was your first gala since joining the organisation. Enjoy the gala with the team, staff and other rich people involved. 

Both of your younger brothers were ecstatic that you got to accompany them to the gala. Luke especially was, as it was his first time going to the annual event, and he wasn’t exactly a people person. Having two of his older siblings with him definitely will help. And Jack, well, he always loves having his older sister around.

The pair had taken you shopping for a dress and ensured you didn’t pay a cent for the dress or any of the accessories you had chosen. Jack even got his girlfriend, Sam, to book you and herself for a spa day. Which would consist of a massage, nails, hair, and make-up together to have a girls' day and prepare for the event. 

The two of you spent the day getting ready for the gala. It was the first time you had also spent the full day with Sam without Jack there. Sure, you had gone shopping together a couple times for a couple of things but never fora whole day. You two were excited to have some time to yourself. 

“We are looking hot,” You grin as you put in your earrings.  

“That we do,” Sam grinned, coming up beside you and side hugging you. 

The boys were waiting for you two in the living room of your and Luke’s apartment. Jack cheered as Sam stepped out and then louder when you stepped out. It was rare for him or anyone from your family to see you dressed up. Especially in dresses.

As a Devils' photographer, you often wore jeans and some variation of Devils merchandise. Your hair was usually in a bun or hair claw. Nothing crazy, just comfortable clothes as you ran around the arena, snapping up as many pictures as you could. 

“You look stunning, sis,” Jack smiles, complimenting you as Luke twirled you to show off your dress.

Luke laughed as you giggled and spun around. He loved watching you be the happy go-lucky girl he remembered from when you were kids. During your teenage years, you were quieter, much like your twin. It was nice to see you coming out of your shell since coming to Jersey with him. 

“I think Hisch, Timo and Bratt are in the lobby waiting for us,” Jack announced as he read a message he had received. 

The group of four made their way downstairs, where they met the trio in the lobby, chatting. All of them were dressed in suits, and their hair was slick and well-styled. Nico smiled when he noticed you walking in beside Luke. You only came up to his shoulder, and that was while wearing heels.

“Hey Nico,” You grin, leaning forward to hug the captain. 

“Hey,” The brunette whispers into your ear. 

You hug the other boys as well, sharing hellos and exchanging compliments. The limo that would take them over to the hotel pulled up outside, and the group climbed in. Nico held his hand and helped you slide in beside Luke before following suit. You were sandwiched between your youngest brother and the team Captain. 

“How was the pamper day?” Nico asks.

“It was great,” You smile, “Sammy and I loved it. Best day I’ve had in a good while.”

Nico chuckled, “Well, hopefully we can keep it going for the night then.”

“Be sure to save me a dance then.”

When you pulled up for the event, you and Nico were on the side to come out last. As soon as the door opened, the noise from fans and media became louder. You felt the nerves kick in once more. Reminding you once more how alike you are with Quinn. And how much Luke was like the two of you. 

“You okay?” Nico asks as he notices you stiffening. 

You looked out the door as Luke was climbing out. You were a behind-the-scenes person, not one to be parading in front of the fans and media. There were way too many people out there for your liking.

“Hey,” Nico whispers, pulling you from your thoughts, “I’ll be there. Jack and Luke will be there. Sammy’s first gala as well. We’re there to back you up.”

“I don’t think–”

“Yes, you can,” Nico cuts you off gently.

You take a deep breath and shuffle along the seat. Your mind reeling, imagining everything that could come from the public appearance. Nico somehow slips over you, so he will step out first. His hand slips into yours as he slowly climbs out. The group watched as you and Nico stepped out. He let you step up beside your brothers as his hand hovered on your lower back. Making sure to guide you around, a safe blanket to remind you that you weren’t alone.

The group made their way down the carpet, posing for pictures. You were either tucked into Nico’s side or with Luke. Soon, you were joining the other players and staff inside the ballroom of this hotel. You guys made the rounds, greeting sponsors, staff and teammates. 

“Hey!” Reanne grinned when you and the group greeted her and Curtis.

“Hey, how are you?” 

“I’m good,” The blonde replied. “A night with no kids is great.”

After the usual spiel of speeches and guest speakers, the music was turned up. It didn’t take long until the team and partners could be found on the dance floor. You danced with Nico and the group, laughing and having fun. 

“I didn’t tell you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning,” Nico whispers.

A blush covered your cheeks as the song changed from the upbeat Pitbull song to ‘The Night We Met’ by Lord Huron. A song you’ve come to love since it went viral on TikTok. Everyone paired up to slow dance. Nico turned to you and slipped his arms around your waist. Your arms went around his neck. 

“Hands off my sisters’ ass,” Luke hisses at his captain as he and what looked to be a sponsor’s daughter danced by.

Nico’s hands made sure to slide further up your lower back. “Protective brother much.”

“They all are,” You reply, “even if these two are younger than me.”

“They just love you.”

More alcohol was consumed, more dances spent on the dance floor. The group enjoyed themselves but were careful not to take it too far at a team fundraiser. Nico was tired and so were you so, without telling your brothers, the two of you snuck out of the event. As you were in the uber you made sure to at least sling Jack a message, so they didn’t send out a search party.

Nico slid his coat jacket over your shoulders after you left the Uber. Making sure you were warm as you guys headed up to your apartment. The conversation flowed until you reached your door.

“Thank you for the fun night,” You mumble as you look up to Nico. 

Nico grinned, tucking the stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I had a great night with you.”

The two of you stood before the door, admiring each other before you finally decided to do what you wanted to do since you met your brother’s captain. You pressed your lips to his. Hoping that he felt the same. Nico’s hand cradled your cheek, and he kissed you back. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” Nico mutters against your lips.

“Me too.”

Nico leant forward and kissed you again. Neither of you paid attention to your surroundings, meaning you missed the ding of the elevator and the footsteps echoing down the hallway towards where the two of you stood.

“What the fuck?”

You pulled away as quickly as possible when you heard Jack’s voice. Nico and you were quick to turn to where Jack, Sammy and Luke were coming towards you. Jack was smirking, and Luke was shocked. 

Jack laughed, “It’s about time.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @linneasblog @jayrami3

[adelphenium]

r63 anon back again with the worms… could you do the hughes bros in r63 pls… 🫶

r63 worms !! i have so much fun with hair + clothing choices for fem versions; you can always hmu with those worms :D

[korolrezni-nikolai]

the venn diagram of drygras and hischier-hughes enjoyers is a circle

[writingonleaves]

reckless driving au - jack hughes

and i don't wanna lose this moment, want you to know just how i feel - reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine ft. ben kessler

the bits and pieces of the life of amelie iris fishel and jack rowden hughes. a story of learning to grow together, slowing down and rediscovering new meanings of home

main segments (in order)

don't wanna scrape you off the pavement (july - sept. 2024)

write me into your thoughts (october - november 2024)

additional supplements (can be read in any order)

just two hours to get there, babe

this pairing also appears in:

it's so hard to watch everything i want

got lovestruck, went straight to my head

extras

meet our oc | playlist | instagram profile i i | social media posts

everything related to this au can be found in this tag! my ask box is also always open for any questions, so please feel free to ask away about this world :)

[cellythefloshie]

;; The Bet Dedicated to @puckmaidens for her birthday bingo

Summary: You've never been one to shy away from friendly competition or a little risk - so you bet Nico that he won't score a hat trick in his game. Little did you know that the prize you offered was the only motivation he needed. Lydia's Bingo Card Tropes: Stary Night, Hattrick, New Jersey Devils, First Kiss Other Tropes: Friends to Lovers Word Count: 1.6k+ A/N: Happy Birthday Lydia! I know you weren't expecting anything until probably a bit later since you posted your bingo a little late, and have your "deadline" set for September, but I wanted to make sure you had something to read for your special day! I hope you enjoy! 🎉

The conversation hung in the air for a moment as your fingers hesitated over the keyboard. You knew his stats better than you would ever admit to anyone. Nico Hischier had only scored 2 goals in a game twice so far that season - and only 9 total times in his career so far. Statistically, it wasn’t going to hang in his favour, but you would humour him.

You smiled to yourself. You had been friends with Nico for some time now, hell maybe even best friends would be the right word for it. The only time you weren’t talking was during a game, or while you both slept it seemed. You hung out at least once a week if his schedule allowed it, and in the off-season, the two of you got into nothing but trouble.

There was a long pause. The … on your screen indicating his typing left your heart racing. You knew he wouldn’t do it, so wagering something like that was more of a joke than anything. Hell, you didn’t expect him to agree with it at all. But then his text finally came through. Just one single word:

Your phone was silent the rest of the evening as it always was before game time. Nico had his pre-game rituals to go through and you never tried to interfere. Not even on a day when there was a little more on the line. Instead, you put your phone aside and went about your own pregame ritual. You finished up with your work and took the leisurely walk home during the peak hours of hustle and bustle in the Newerk streets. Then, when you got home you went straight into the kitchen and cooked up one of your favourite meals.

It was enough to keep you satisfied until game time when you settled into your place on the sofa with a bowl of ice cream for dessert. You drew your blanket in close, pulling it close to your body as the anthems were sung and then the game began. With mere games going into the playoff season - and the Devils expected to make their first playoff appearance in years - you had expected it to be a relaxed game. Competitive yes, but with the intention of resting certain players before what you hoped would be a long playoff run. And for the most part, you were right. The boys were looking a little more sluggish than you were used to seeing - a little more careless as they were biding time until game one of round one. But there was one player who stuck out from all the rest. 

Nico, fucking Nico, was playing as if it were game seven of the Stanley Cup Final and the trophy was about to be put into his hands. He was skating fast than you had ever seen him go, and dancing around players like he was Connor McDavid - so it didn’t surprise you when he had been the one to get the first goal on the board for Jersey. But you weren’t nervous. That was until he scored his second goal of the game before the first period could even end. He would have 40 minutes of play - 45 minutes if the game went to overtime - to score one final goal and it left your nerves so raw you didn’t even send him the menu of the restaurant you had picked out. Instead, you sent him one text you knew you wouldn’t get a reply to until well after the game was over:

You were wearing a small smile as you clicked send, placing your phone and your now empty bowl aside before you got comfortable under one of the throw blankets you kept on the couch. It was a dangerous thing, to get snuggled up beneath the blankets - and tonight was proven proof of that because you were asleep before the end of the second period. You slept through every penalty and every goal against and didn’t wake up until the game was long over and you heard a series of hollow taps against the glass of your kitchen window. 

It was a sound that left you lurching, your body in a panic as you realized the television had defaulted to the post-game screen reading; this program has ended. You cursed yourself as you pushed off the blanket, lurching for your phone to check the time. It was nearing midnight, and the NHL app had been sure to notify you that the Devils had won 5-4 in overtime, but you didn’t get the chance to check who the goal scorers were - not when the tapping on the window persisted. 

“I’m coming!” You shouted from the couch and grabbed the blanket before you scurried through to the kitchen. The kitchen window was large and opened up to the fire escape that you abused as more of a patio when the weather was nice enough. You liked to keep it decorated with plants, and quirky trinkets you would find during your time out at the shops, but in the chill of the April night there was only one thing left out on the escape, and you hadn’t left it there: Nico.

He hadn’t gone home after the game, his game-day suit still dawned on his frame jut a little less polished now as his collar was left loose and his tie had been lost in one of his pockets. 

“You could have buzzed the door Neeks!” You exclaimed as you passed the window open and took a step back to let him climb in but he didn’t do more than peak his head inside. 

“You going to come out here, or what?”

“It’s the middle of the night!” “Com’on, it’s beautiful out here,” he pulled back and offered you his hand. You used it to guide you out the window, your blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cape to keep you from the night’s chill. It left you shivering as you looked out at the apartments across the street and up into the sky where the stars shone bright. He wasn’t wrong, it was a beautiful night. 

“You come all the way here just to star gaze, Neeks?” you spoke slowly, your eyes still trained up at the sky and how the stars glistened like glitter. 

“No, no,” Nico hummed, his hand still holding onto yours, “did you not watch the game?”

“I watched…” you started slowly, bright eyes glancing over at him as you held back a smile, “The first half. I fell asleep…”

“You missed a good game,” Nico’s smile grew as he reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, “you want to take a look at the score sheet?”

His grin was unlike one that you had ever seen. One that oozed confidence and - you squinted at him a bit - trouble it oozed trouble. “You didn’t-” Your words were broken as it hit you. He scored three!

You grabbed his phone quickly, the light illuminating your face as your scroll through the scoresheet. Hischier Hischier Thompson Tuch Jost J. Hughes Skinner Palat Hischier

“Oh my god!” You were sure you were loud enough to wake up the entire apartment block as you jumped up, your arms reaching out from beneath your blanket to wrap around the strength of his form. You not once thought what this meant for you in that moment, you were just too damn happy for him. It was the first of his career! Something worth celebrating even if it was just out on the fire escape in the middle of the night. “I’m so sorry I missed it I-”

“You doubted me?” he cocked his head at you, but he wasn’t mad. 

“Maybe a little,” you added, matching the smile that grew on his lips with your own. 

“You really underestimated how badly I’ve been wanting to do this…”

Drawing back just enough, Nico reached up with both hands. He cradled your cheeks in them, the warmth of his touch flooding over your skin. It rendered you still, your body not doing so much as breathing as he arched over and drew you into him. His lips were soft, and smooth as he eased into the kiss. The heat of his breath against your face as he kissed you slowly, gently, just enough to lull you into the idea that kissing him was something you liked a lot more than you could have anticipated. And not only did you let him kiss you, but you were also kissing him in return, your hands coming up to clutch the stretched fabric of his button-down as your lips parted just to get a taste of him. 

When he pulled back, your cheeks were red hot with blush and your gaze cast up at the sky in an attempt to hide just how much you had enjoyed it - but her must have liked it too because he was still willing to hold up his end of the bet even if you had lost, “I’m still going to take you out to dinner, but not as some sort of consolation prize-”

And you just smiled up at him, your body leaning into his as you both admired the night, “it’s a date.”