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hd-junglebook · 2 days

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Its Always Been You

Part 4 / Word Count 5816

Masterlist

Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind. Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.

"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.

"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."

Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.

Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."

"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.

Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.

It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.

He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.

The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.

Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.

"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.

Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.

Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.

…

The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.

The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.

She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.

y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.

Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.

Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.

As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.

Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.

She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.

Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.

In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.

Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.

She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.

Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.

Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.

Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.

"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.

The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.

Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.

Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.

Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.

"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.

Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.

Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.

But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.

As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.

But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.

So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

…

Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.

"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.

Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.

He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.

"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.

…

The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.

Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.

they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.

Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."

Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."

But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."

She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."

For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.

"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."

With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.

The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.

She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.

Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.

On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.

Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.

His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.

Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.

Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.

Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

…

Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.

The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.

There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.

Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.

"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."

He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.

Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."

Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."

Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.

Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.

But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.

"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.

Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.

"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?

Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.

For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.

Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."

Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.

As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.

…

Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.

She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.

Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.

Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.

In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.

With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."

Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"

Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."

Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."

…

Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.

Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.

"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."

Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.

"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."

Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."

Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.

"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."

Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."

Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."

Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"

Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.

Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”

Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?

…

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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day

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𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶

TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.

─ word count | 2.5k

─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!

─ taglist |

─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!

YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.

How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.

Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.

And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.

As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.

It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.

And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.

But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

And tonight was no different.

When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.

But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.

And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.

A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"

You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.

You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.

God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.

He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."

Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"

"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.

God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.

"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.

Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."

You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."

He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.

But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.

"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.

You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.

Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."

Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."

"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."

Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."

"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."

Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.

"Let's go take a walk."

And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.

You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?

"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.

As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.

Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.

"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.

Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.

"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.

"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.

Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.

You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?

You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.

Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.

"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."

You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.

"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.

Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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bunbunbl0gs · 20 hours

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Jack dating a tomboy ❗️❗️

masterlist

nhl masterlist

join my tag list here :)

taglist :@ivy-34

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chewingcyanide · 2 months

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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣. 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

₊⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — secretly pining over someone is never fun—even less so when they’re your childhood best friend, and dating someone else.

₊⊹ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —all the angst, jealousy, thoughts of inferiority, cursing, big sadness from reader over here, not proofread i got better things to do

₊⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — jack hughes x fem!reader

₊⊹ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — my valentine’s day jhughes special (albeit a day late ☹️), as promised! sorry it took me so long. couldn’t figure out how to end it. this is unapologetically self-indulgent. also not a wip, but i HAD to do it to em. i’m sorry if your name is brooke or bianca. i love you. promise. maybe we’ll make a part two, if yall like it enough!

₊⊹ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — @dancerbailey3, @bellstwd, @kashee-h, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @brucewaynegfreal, @love4dlr, @jackhughesily, @leavethemonsteralive, @loveforaugust, @43hughes, @nathandoe, @choppedlamphandscowboy, @bunting58, @angelayse, @ru-kru, @sleepretreat, @nonsensical-nonsence, @maih23 (if your name is white, i couldn’t tag you!)

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Everyone knows the saying you never know what you have until you lose it. Truth was, you knew exactly what you had—you’d just never imagined you’d lose it.

You never imagined you’d lose him.

A shared childhood and mothers’ who found friendship with each other had brought you and Jack Hughes together, kept you glued even as skin stretched and futures diverged—where he’d gone on to be a star hockey player, you’d quietly came into adulthood, trekking through the difficulties of college.

In your younger years, Jack had always been there. Life of the party, a mirrorball everyone gravitated to for its decadent shine—you, contrastingly, felt like a sore thumb at parties, attending them only to see the smile on Jack’s face. Differing personalities and life routes aside, Jack was your person. The first person you called whenever you were sad, or happy, or bored. The one who knew all of your test scores first, who took hours long flights just to visit you during breaks in the season.

Distance nor time had left a lasting mark on your friendship, kept together by constant phone calls and texts. Whilst you remained imbedded in the hustle of Toronto, Jack was trapped in New Jersey—a gap that you closed every summer, when mutual desire to see one another (as well as his brothers) brought you and him to Michigan for a few months.

From childhood, to high school, to now—it had always been you two. Jokes passed in the years, swirling around with assumptions of the two of you ending up together, finally realizing it after years of proclaimed friendship. For Jack, it’d never been romantic. Loving and caring, a relationship he’d never trade for the world, but the intimacy ended there. Memories of him outwardly flirting with girls in front of you at bars or parties flashed in your mind any time you figured maybe; he’d never given any indicator that you were or would ever be more to him than his best friend.

For you? It was an embarrassingly different story.

College had stolen much of your time—left none for a love life. But truthfully, that didn’t much phase you.

Hookups, flings, boyfriends—all of them paled in comparison to Jack. A childhood crush perpetuated by maturation without loss of contact, Jack had just… always been there. Always a best friend, never a lover; the hanging axe of rejection was too dire a outcome for you to ever consider telling him. Killing a friendship you’d grown with would kill you. And maybe he felt the same way, maybe the kisses he reserved for the crown of your head and the guiding hand he kept on the small of your back meant something, but you couldn’t continue existing if they didn’t.

So, a dutiful friend, you kept quiet, spared the connection and suffered in unrequited love.

And it hadn’t really changed until Jack had gotten a girlfriend. In all your years of knowing him, he’d had a few—though they rarely lasted more than a handful of months, and a selfish and bitter part of you liked that. Sometimes they overstepped, viewed themselves above you in the ranking of Jack’s life; he made painfully clear they never would be.

And it felt good, to be that cherished. But then you remembered he didn’t actually love you and it felt a whole lot less impactful.

Not Brooke.

Brooke, a box-dye blonde with a less-than-stellar reaction to your friendship with her boyfriend, was unarguably beautiful—unapproachably so, someone you’d picture whenever thinking of the girl Jack would end up with. You knew it would never be you, but you hated that it was her, hated that it was finally cemented, the coffin wheeled out.

A friendship you’d cherished for years had been weathered down by the abrasive actions of his girlfriend. It left a bitter taste in your mouth; Jack never seemed privy to Brooke’s nonverbal dislike of you, and you never made comment of it. If Jack was happy, what did it matter? If you said anything, all you’d appear to be was a child throwing a tantrum, the attention torn from them. You refused to jeopardize Jack’s happiness, even if it meant shredding your own.

Brooke tolerated you; that was the best word you could think of. There was surely no excess of love, but you didn’t think she flat out despised you, either. Passive aggressive to the point of just being aggressive, snide looks whenever she didn’t think you could see, intentionally separating you from Jack whenever the two of you were talking—it all made you hate being around her, and by extension, him.

So when he’d invited you to dinner with him—and some of his teammates, a monthly ritual at his house—the knee jerk reaction had been to decline, lie, run while you were still free from the piercing glare of Brooke; because you knew she’d be there, clung to his side, as if you had any intention of taking him away.

… Well, you’d did have the intention. Never the will, so then again maybe she was right to hate you. Feelings you’d never act on, words you’d never say—none of it mattered. She had him. Not you. Never you.

You should’ve said no.

Pouting eyes and pleading lips caved you. As soon as you’d agreed, you’d regretted it—knew in your bones it would only serve to wedge the knife in your heart deeper, solidify the loss of a what you thought would be a lifelong partnership. Your platonic soulmate, twin flame pinched out by hateful fingers.

Getting ready for the dinner felt like preparing for a cage fight, where all night you’d have do endure blow after blow—them kissing, them touching, him loving her in a way you wished he’d love you.

Night blanketed the sky by the time you’d arrived to Jack’s home, shadows slipping by the window, shapes of people telling you that you were likely late—the stone in your stomach had slowed you monumentally. The torture was self-inflicted, you knew. There would be no pity when your heart finally gave out.

She did this to herself, they’d say. Hearts can only endure so much before they break.

Voices coalesced into one as you pushed open the door, welcomed by the familiar atmosphere of friendship and loud laughter. You’d completely forgotten to text Jack that you’d gotten here—and for some reason, as you crossed the threshold into the gaping space of his living room, you felt like an outsider. Sudden eyes landed on you like bullets, and all you saw was Jack—his side taken dutifully by Brooke, always beautiful, striking in a way you didn’t think you’d ever been.

Looking at her, it made sense why she was the one Jack chose. Why you hadn’t been. A best friend. Childhood acquaintance. Faded t-shirt he’d strung along for too many years, even as the design weathered away and the fabric weakened. He’d gotten a shiny new one, the novelty still in tact, yet he hadn’t let you go.

Some part of you, deep in the caves of your wounded heart, wished Brooke would ban him from your presence. Maybe then your hurt would lessen. You knew you’d never be able to let go on your own.

Jack’s eyes caught you, stood awkwardly in the mouth of the hallway. He attempted to stand, only for Brooke to tug him down by his t-shirt—the shirt you’d bought him for his birthday last year, impressed with two hearts holding hands. She said something to him, something low and hissed between clenched teeth. Before you could see his reaction, Nico was invading your space, arms winding around you.

“There she is!” he announced, the ground leaving your feet as he lifted you playfully. “We were waiting on you to eat. Sure do like to take your time.”

Residual bitterness faded at Nico’s words—Jack may have been your best friend, but years of being attached to him introduced you to his teammates; they were always kind, if a little overbearing. A big brother that toed the line of overprotective and well-wishing.

Grateful for the attention distractor, you allowed your shoulders to relax and lungs to decompress. The first cut at seeing Jack, still happily in love with Brooke, was already dealt; you just needed to get through the dinner, and not look like a hostage while doing so.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, shoving Nico’s shoulder as he brought you towards where the others were gathered in the living room. “Make fun of me for driving like a grandma all you want, at least I’m safe.”

Not looking at Jack took more self control than you’d care to admit. Blurring in your peripheral, a mess of colors stacked atop one another, you knew if you glanced—saw the claim Brooke was staking for all to see—it would only make you want to leave. So you didn’t.

Luke was next to greet you, offering a pity-imbued smile. Despite never mentioning your affections for his older brother, you knew he knew; saw it in the way he would look at you, the frowns offered. In times when Brooke inadvertently talked you down, it was Luke who told her off, put balm on the wound.

A side hug and a soft smile—you barely were able to muster one yourself. “How have classes been?”

You graced Luke with an exasperated groan. “Terrible, thanks for reminding me. Economics is kicking my ass.”

Luke sat. You remained standing. A loose thread peeking from your sweatshirt seemed far more intriguing than eyes you were trying desperately not to meet.

“Tough luck,” remarked Luke, conversations reviving after the novelty of your arrival wore off. You recognized a couple of faces around you—Dawson, Jesper, Alexander, and John. Faces you’d become acquainted with in your years of being Jack’s friend.

The title felt a bitter reminder of your ceiling, never surpassing Jack’s best friend. Loved and cherished, a desired presence, just not how you wanted. Who were you to complain? It was better to be his friend than nothing at all; to have a little piece of him, proof that at one point, you’d mattered enough to get it.

You just weren’t sure if you did anymore.

Where once Jack’s name was a regular occurrence, flashing on your phone screen—texts, calls, FaceTimes, they all faded once Brooke came into his life. Movie nights on his couch, reruns of old films that you could quote down to the last line, stopped. You knew Jack cared enough to extend invites, but at this point, you figured it was more out of pity and shame than actual want of your company.

Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.

Eventually, everyone made their way into the dining room. Chairs lined a large wooden table, one chosen and haphazardly assembled by you and Jack when he’d first bought this house. Scratches imbedded in the finish sent flashes of dropped hammers and clumsy feet into your mind, memories that felt too far to touch.

Mind far afield, you sat down—somewhere between Luke and Nico, far enough from Jack to be inconspicuous but close enough to feel the sharp burn of his eyes. It was petty, you knew, to have still not greeted him. Not that Brooke would’ve likely even let you. A sadistic part of you wanted him to feel even a modicum of the agony that rattled you whenever you were forced to watch him and Brooke, wanted to wonder and question why you were so cold.

Then again, maybe he didn’t care.

Body detached from your mind, the last thing you expected was to be spoken to—least of all by Brooke. But there her grating voice was, verging on overuse, but you knew that was just how she talked. Chafing and annoying and awful—

“Still no boyfriend?” A venomous smile curled her lips; friendly to the untrained eye. You knew better.

Your fingers twitched. The food in front of you spoiled, appetite evaporated. Of course she asked that—both a jab and a reassurance; if you had a boyfriend, her relationship with Jack would be safe. Not that it wasn’t, regardless.

You wished you could scream at her, leap across the table and force her to hear your words: you’d never have Jack. Want him, yes. Spend years pining over a boy who looked to you like the sister he never had, absolutely. But actually have him, feel his love in every touch and kiss? No. That wasn’t on the cards for you; you’d folded long ago.

“Nope,” you drawled. The pressure of Jack’s stare caved you—you caught his eyes, eyebrows creased, the wrinkle of his forehead that made itself prominent whenever he was annoyed.

What did he possibly have to be annoyed about?

Catching Luke’s gaze only irked you further, alit the urge to push out of your chair and flee Jack’s home. Pity swelled in his eyes, the beginnings of a frown quirking down his lips. You didn’t want pity; didn’t want to feel like the entire world was in on some inside joke you’d never understand. Everyone saw it, your love for Jack. Saw the lovestruck comedy that was your life—girl loves boy, boy isn’t even aware of it, hilarity ensues.

Everyone but Jack. And honestly, that was for the best.

You didn’t think you’d be able to handle the frown when he found out. Jack Hughes, always kind, never malignant, searching for a way to politely turn down his best friend without taking an axe to the connection. Really, there would be no bloodless way to let it die—so you lived in moments between, where nothing felt impactful or important or real.

When Jack was without Brooke, you could almost imagine he was your Jack—the one who turned down every girl so that he’d be free to go to prom with you, the one who got banned from a restaurant for life for pouring a drink over your cheating ex-boyfriend’s head. The Jack who always protected you, always cared, even when all of his friends couldn’t understand it.

That Jack who currently hand his arm around the back of Brooke’s chair, shoulders touching—a casual thing, something you’d done with countless strangers, yet it felt impactful enough to make bile swim in your throat.

“Probably for the best,” Luke interjected after the conversation—if it even was that—between you and Brooke came to an awkward stalemate. “Guys are dicks.”

A tension somehow always existed whenever you were in a room with Brooke. One you never wanted, never fed into. Like a shadow, the morning mist, it hung thick as smog. Choking you, nearly forcing you from the room.

“You’re a guy,” you laughed weakly, offering Luke a pointed look.

“No one at college, then?” Nico piped up. You felt bad for not looking at him, but he was too close to Jack and Brooke—you didn’t want to see them.

Cozy, warm in a way you thought only you’d ever be with Jack. Familiar, united. Their relationship didn’t seem as superficial as his past ones had, woven together under the pretense of good sex and no real connection. Watching Jack love his new, perfect girlfriend made you physically ill; and maybe that was dramatic, maybe it made you a backwards person with failing morals—you couldn’t care anymore.

Years of hiding your love, months of watching his own be poured into a girl that wanted you out of his life—it wore you down to your bones, dangerously close to burning to ash.

“Most of them are… strange, to say the least,” you responded with a wince. And that was true; your major seemed to just attract men whose one quality was making women uncomfortable. “Plus, having a boyfriend would just distract me. Finals are coming up and I’m already worried about how I’m going to do on them.”

Luke scoffed. “Hookups exist.”

A wince followed Luke’s words. Eyes fell to where Jessica was rubbing her hand—Jack apologized, albeit half-heartedly. Confusion overcame you; had he squeezed her hand too tightly?

In the past, you’d had boyfriends. Not that they lasted very long. Somehow, there was always something wrong with them—something only Jack could see; he’d endlessly nitpick, nag, explain why your newest boyfriend wasn’t good enough for you.

They were too old, too uptight, not nice enough. Always something. And without fail, Jack was right—scarcely did they make it past the first date before some measly excuse fell from their lips. But maybe it wasn’t them; maybe it was you. So, with an aching heart refusing to connect with any other but Jack’s, you gave up. Delved headfirst into college work and stayed below the waves, even as they began to drown you.

All you offered in response to Luke was a shrug.

Conversation picked up then, thankfully fell away from you. Limelight sufficiently dimmed, you allowed yourself to watch Jack; a habit you’d never quite shaken, even in the embarrassing moments when he caught your peering gaze.

You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen in love with Jack—just that you had, and now you couldn’t touch the bottom of him. Water filled your lungs, suffocated you, but if drowning meant being near him, you’d happily do it. Dying in his platonic embrace seemed better than dying all alone.

Ruffled brown hair, the sort of charm that every boy-next-door seemed to possess, and clear blue eyes that shone every emotion like a transparent window to his soul—all of it made Jack Jack, the boy you loved, would admire even in moments he didn’t think he deserved reverence.

You’d seen it all: the self-deprecation after his failure of a rookie year, dwindling confidence, tears imbued with hurt and disappointment, frustration of someone who knew they were better. It was you who’d been by his side, proved an anchor to a person you couldn’t live without.

Yet he’d still chosen Brooke.

For most people, that would be the last step off the cliff, boneless body breaking against the canyon. Not you—so full of hope and dreams, undeterred by every sign the universe gave you. You weren’t his only, but at least you were one.

Jack’s lips parted into a smile, one you could tell was real—his kissed Brooke’s temple, pinched her on the side. An intimate moment in a crowded room. You felt almost as if you were trespassing, a stranger watching two people in love. Part of you didn’t even associate that boy as Jack, because you couldn’t understand how he could love someone so averse to you, so… mean. But then again, it wasn’t about you.

It was about him. Accommodations had been made for years—leaving parties early because you were uncomfortable, blowing off his guy friends to comfort you after a bad date, scrapping his wants and his plans because of something to do with you.

He was probably sick of it. Sick of you, dictating what he could and couldn’t do. Who he could and couldn’t date. Because who cared if Brooke hated you; Jack loved her, despite it all. And that was what made dread swirl into a storm in your heart, ribs nearly cracking under the rate it was thundering at.

Abruptly, you stood. Felt the chair nearly topple. Eyes came to you—Jack’s friends. Yours, yes, but Jack’s foremost. You were just intruding, butting into a life that no longer fit you. Time had passed, the wishful minds of children grown into adulthood. He didn’t owe you anything anymore, especially when all you were was a storm cloud over his parade.

Just as soon as you had, Jack stood, concern clear in his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Your tongue felt like lead. “Nothing—nothing, sorry. I’m—I need to use the restroom.”

You didn’t wait much longer before leaving the room.

Air felt scarce, lungs punctured and deflating quicker than you could patch the holes. Clumsily, you pushed open the door to the bathroom, steadied your shaking hands on the edge of the sink. Looking at yourself, reflection marred by the onset of tears, all you could do was compare—compare to Brooke, to every girl Jack had ever wanted, ever liked, ever loved.

Was it their features, doughy lips that worshipped him in a way you didn’t? Was it their bodies, womanly and free in a way you didn’t like to be? Or was it deeper, were their souls crafted from the same light, in a way you’d always thought your own had been with Jack’s?

Idiot, fool, dreamer—you were all of it. Like a lap dog, bird in its teeth, you always returned, remained dutifully at Jack’s side for the moment he might open the screen door and finally let you in.

Brooke had every right to hate you. Perceptive in a way Jack wasn’t, she saw what everyone else did—the lovesick eyes, foolish faith chaining you to him, an unrealized desire that would never be acted on. Had you been in Brooke’s place, you would’ve hated yourself as well.

Water poured from the faucet, gathered in your cupped palms. Attempting to desecrate any evidence of tears, you gently splashed the water in your face—went to dry it when you heard the sound of the front door creaking open.

“Oh, thank God you’re here, Bee.”

Cold crept up your spine. Eavesdropping was wrong—you knew that, yet still found yourself leaning against the bathroom door to catch Brooke’s words.

“What’s going on?” came the response, likely the voice of Bianca, Brooke’s best friend. You’d met her once at a game (met was a loose word; she’d given you a snide look and taken to ignoring you the entire time).

Brooke’s voice lowered to the point where you were forced to strain to hear her speak. “You know Jack’s little pet?”

A lapse. Your heart seized, taken by some concoction of shame and surprise.

“No.”

“Yes!” responded Brooke. “She’s fucking everywhere. I asked Jack not to invite her tonight, and lo and behold—”

“Wait, I thought you talked to Jack?”

“I did.” Vexation laced every letter. “I told him it made me uncomfortable how close they were, how she was always around, blah blah. He got defensive, but he said he’d talk to her.”

“Clearly not,” Bianca muttered. “Look, I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re childhood friends, yeah? He probably feels like he has to stay her friend, or something. I mean, Jack’s a good guy, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone; if he dropped her, he’d look like a douche. I’m sure she’ll get the hint eventually.”

Footsteps began, voices fading along with them. “I fucking hope. It’s honestly pathetic.”

Blood roared in your ears, drowned out the sound of your beating heart—if it was even beating anymore. Something bitter and hot invaded your airways, lashed like whips against your flesh. It was no secret Brooke disliked you, disliked the closeness of you and Jack, but to hear it, the vicious way it fell from her lips—it made your gut twist and constrict, pushing bile towards your throat.

Pathetic. They thought you were pathetic, hopelessly waiting, like a dead plant praying for flowers that would never come. Lovelorn, seeking affection that only came by way of friendship and never more; they were right, and it became evident with a strike of lightning to your body.

Is that truly how Jack felt? Was he waiting for you to give up, so to spare you the hurt of being let down? Had you become baggage? Chained to him, the memory of childhood the only thing keeping you relevant, when times were less impactful and his life didn’t center around being a professional athlete. The stain of youth, remaining only for its joyful memory; that’s all you were now—a memory.

Just like your love, it seemed everyone saw Jack’s hints but you. Rose-colored lenses blurred everything but what you wished to see; of course you missed them, ignored them so your narrative remained intact.

God, you were an idiot. A fucking idiot.

Head pounding, the squeeze of an oncoming migraine rattling your brain, you opened the bathroom door. Felt like a trapped bird all the way back to the table—you just had to get through dinner, only an hour or two, so as to not raise any suspicion, and then you could fade from Jack’s life.

Not that he’d notice. He hadn’t even spoken to you tonight, though no fault of his own; Brooke kept her claws deep, and it was clear he didn’t want to risk an argument. Not that you could blame him—she was his girlfriend. Her. Not you. He didn’t owe you anything.

Conversations filled your ears, ostracized you—every time you had opened your mouth before, it had felt wrong, the scratch on a vinyl everyone skipped over. You saw him first—noticeably tense, chair a bit further away from Brooke that it had been earlier. Tensed forehead, hands balled on the table; you longed to ask what was wrong, as you were used to doing. But you imagined talking to him, and it somehow felt wrong, a peasant addressing a king.

Then, your eyes fell to your seat.

No longer empty, occupied now by Bianca, who was talking casually with Brooke, as if her actions hadn’t changed your entire perception of the situation. There were no more seats. No more room. The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, hit with the same sting of antiseptic on a wound—there wasn’t any more room for you at the table, just as there was no room for you in Jack’s life.

Maybe this was always meant to happen. Childhood didn’t remain forever, and it seemed, neither was your friendship. You’d always wondered why Jack had chosen you, someone so dissimilar to himself and his friends. Eventually, you made peace with it. His friendship was a balm to everything negative. Now… here you were again, more ostracized than ever.

What were you supposed to do? The long haul wasn’t meant to have an end.

Everyone was looking at you now. Stage fright, you lost your speech, thousands of eyes from a crowd looking at you, spotlight centered on your face, and you couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t—

Blue eyes found you, stood stonily at the entrance of the dining room. Jack’s eyebrows knitted, confused as to why you were still stood. When he saw Bianca, his lip curled. Frustration sparked, bemusement painted over. Once more that protective streak flared, something you were so used to—it had once felt the greatest trophy, proof that the Jack Hughes cared enough to stand up for you. It felt a sore consolation now, a reminder that, as always, you’d be the meek girl from his childhood he was forced to drag along, defend, shield from his new life that he fit into perfectly, that you spilled out from.

“Get up.”

Then, the attention went to him.

Brooke glanced at her boyfriend, annoyance flashing on her face. Their conversation paused. “What?”

Jack nodded towards Bianca. “She took her seat,” he explained in a clipped voice. “Get up.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Jack, it’s not a big—”

“It is,” he interrupted. Tension sparked in the air like a misfired firework. “She needs to sit and Bianca took her place, so—”

“It’s fine!” The words spilled out before you could second guess them. They came out raw and pained and everything you didn’t want to appear as; pity pooled from everyone, that sort of second-hand pity you saw on strangers faces when you’d lose your footing and fall.

It was too much. Pins dug into your skin, all of a sudden too tight. You needed to leave. Now, before your bones crumbled and heart gave out and finally everything burst.

“I—um, I should probably get going, anyway,” you said, nodding as if trying to be convincing. “With finals comin’ up I should get in as much studying as I can.”

Determination was something you’d always admired about Jack; it only irked you now. He stood, shrugged off Brooke’s outstretched hand and came to stand before you, and God—it was a disservice to not admire him, even as annoyance creased his eyes and drew inwards his lips. Beauty, in such a raw form, it startled you. Growing up, he’d always been the center of everyones attention. The hockey prodigy, the first overall draft pick, the franchise player for the Devils.

You? You’d been nothing special. Yet he’d still chosen you. And here he was, apparently doing it again—but why? Why when he had a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life and fun friends did he always come back, when clearly you were no more than a burden?

You tried not to seem spiteful. You did. But it was so hard to hide your wounds and ignore their pain. He may not have seen them, but they were unfortunately still there. And it seemed they always would be.

“You can’t,” he said, searched your gaze—he’d always been able to see straight through you, with such simplicity it frightened you. You tried to shuttered your expression, hide your pain. It wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. “Dinner’s just started—”

“Really, J, it’s fine.” Heat bored into your face where you knew Brooke was staring, daring you to express any deeper connection with Jack past the sheltered friendliness you were currently forcing.

You weren’t going to budge. Jack saw that, and so he sighed and glanced out the window. “I’ll drive you home.”

Oh, God. Nothing was ever easy. Pushing and pushing and pushing until you weren’t sure you even wanted to get up anymore, to even try. Every time you did, right back down you went, encapsulated by everything Jack.

Freedom felt a forgotten thing. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t love Jack, when he wasn’t at the forefront of your mind, main star of the play.

And honestly, you were tired. Tired of wishing for something that would never happen. Tired of being viewed as the shackle around Jack’s wrist. Just tired.

“No need,” you muttered noncommittally, saw the way Jack’s face twisted with concern and confusion and everything you didn’t want to see. “It’s your dinner, J. With my grandma driving, I’ll get home safe.”

The attempt at a joke didn’t land. Smile didn’t even begin to twitch his lips. “It’s dark outside,” he stated, an obvious fact that held no weight for anyone but you and him. “I always drive you when it’s dark.”

That was true enough; your inability to see properly at night meant Jack became your chauffeur, not that he ever complained—even still, it was another thing he did for you, time sacrificed to accommodate you. Prepared to leave his own dinner, his own girlfriend, just to make sure you didn’t have to do something you were uncomfortable with. Conceptually, it was sweet, a sort of gesture that would’ve normally made your heart soar. Now? It made you feel like a burden, an incapable little girl still hiding in the shadow of her protector, afraid of the sting of daylight.

No more.

“I’m going to be fine,” you reassured. Jack didn’t appear convinced—he never was satisfied when it came to you, to your safety, unless he was directly involved. “Stay and have fun.”

“What if—”

“Let her go, babe.”

Brooke’s voice proved the nail in the coffin; a part of you heard the undertone of excitement shot through her words, the possibility of your leave alleviating any annoyance your presence had brought. Without you, Jack’s attention would be fully on her. Without you, he wouldn’t have to concern himself on whether you were having fun and if you were okay.

You. You. You.

You’d considered yourself Jack’s anchor, the grounding of his mind—unfortunately, you’d forgotten an anchor also keeps a thing in place, forcing inactivity.

Let her go.

It rang like a death knell, struck sharp as a poisoned dart, invisible but so unmistakably fatal.

Gathering what remained of your dignity, you grabbed your purse off of your—Bianca’s—chair, caught the commiseration shining in Luke’s eyes like a tarnished trophy. It only stung, reminded you that you needed pity.

Before you could flee the room like a scolded dog, Jack caught your wrist. Heat bloomed, a fever rushing to your head—his simple touch made you sick with want and need and something deeper that would never be realized or fostered. Something you had to let die.

“Text me when you’re home,” he said softly. Fingers gently squeezed your wrist. Where once you’d feel comforted, you just felt trapped. “Please.”

Not trusting your words, all you did was nod.

Honestly, you’d expected some dark cloud to cover you when finally you decided to move on. A procession of funeral goers flocking like crows, unable to understand why you’d abandoned a years-long friendship over something insignificant. Over words spewed from hateful lips.

But it wasn’t what you’d overheard. Deeper, a more sharp knowledge that even if Jack loved you, held you closer than anyone in his circle of friends, he’d never want you in the way you desired. And for a while, that was okay. Because he existed separate of everything—and then came Brooke, and it all crumbled.

You could handle him not loving you. You couldn’t, however, handle him loving someone else so openly.

Street lights blurred behind tears, a mess of streaky lights like a watercolor canvas. Flashes of nights when Jack would drive you home, insisting on taking the wheel so that you didn’t have to toe out of your comfort zone, they haunted you like a inescapable film reel on repeat in your mind. Memories fogged by lost youth, angry words from Jack’s lips as he’d stand up for you—never a party person, denounced for draining the fun. Jack never let those insults slip lip before he was barking at whoever said it.

A responsibility. A burden. The lines had become blurred in recent years.

The latter seemed more fitting.

Through a barrier of tears, you were able to send Jack a text as your car rolled to a stop in the parking lot.

at my dorm

j :)

ok good. u ok? u seemed off @ dinner

Fingers hovered over your screen. Make movements to draft a text. Nothing seemed sufficient.

You let the text stale. Sit stagnant on your phone. Jack would likely worry, eventually call—you just wanted to fall into a void and never return. Not after the mess you’d made of dinner.

The mess you’d made of your life.

Making a ghost of yourself was far more difficult than you’d thought it would be.

Incessantly, Jack had texted you, called you—you didn’t answer any of them. Silence felt a balm to your shame. Selfish, you knew, to just ghost Jack without offering any explanation, but nothing would be sufficient, not without souring the connection you were hoping would die without pain.

Cowardice, craven, pathetic—you knew you were all of it. To you, you were giving Jack a chance to pull back, to fizzle the friendship of his own accord. Maybe then it would’ve stung less, if the desire of its end was reciprocated, mutual. As it were, it was not.

Even with your withdrawal, Jack still tried. Shot texts, called and punctuated them with voicemails, sent you TikToks and Snaps and everything he would normally do if everything was fine; but it wasn’t. And you knew he knew, could sense the urgency in his attempts at communication.

You felt dirty, filthy with shame and guilt.

Despite your best efforts, you didn’t appear as unaffected as you hoped. While your insides were shredding themselves, you tried valiantly to paint over your visage with the normal happy-go-lucky smile you always wore. Most people, if they noticed, didn’t comment on it.

Unfortunately, Kaylen did notice.

Since your freshman year of college, Kaylen had been your roommate—low maintenance, intelligent to the point of making you stupid without even trying. As such, she was far more perceptive than you gave her credit for.

There’d been times you confided in her about your feeling for Jack, sought out advice that never seemed good enough. Because no one but yourself could fix the valley that had split between Jack and you. You could seek outward help all you wanted, but nothing would change unless you did something—and, really, you weren’t sure that was even a good idea anymore.

Two days of moping resulted in Kaylen’s intervention.

“Get up.”

Sunlight bled through your shut eyes, forced a wince. Hands rolled you onto your back, the somewhat stiff mattress of your bed providing a measly cushion. Sleep intruded on, your hands extended, attempted to push away the figure you knew what trying to rile you.

“Go away,” you grunted, throat thickened by sleep and other terrible emotions.

“No,” Kaylen hissed. When finally you opened your eyes, her squinted expression invaded your vision. “Look, I’ve let you be miserable for two days, but it’s getting ridiculous. What the hell happened with you and loverboy?”

A jolt nearly paused your heart mid-beat. Thinking about Jack stung in a way you didn’t like to admit, mainly due to the fact that it was painfully embarrassing that he had such a control over you.

“Don’t call him that,” you muttered, bit your tongue to stop anything else from spilling out.

Kaylen’s eyebrows quirked. “So it is about him?”

Nails scraped your lungs. “No—yes—fuck,” you moaned, sitting up and balancing your forehead on bent knees. “It’s… all fucked up, K. I don’t know what to do.”

A sigh left her lips. You felt the bed dip as she climbed beside you. “I can help if you tell me.”

And so you did, started at the beginning of dinner to the end, as you left like a dog defeating in a cage match, heart crying blood. Comforting circles were rubbed into your thigh, but all they did was remind you how Jack used to trace shapes onto your leg, or arm, or back—how he touched you, just to know you were there, with him. He said it placated him.

It was shameful, how bile teased your throat even imagining it.

Rationally, you knew everything was your doing. Loving Jack, torturing yourself by being in his presence whilst he focused his attention on his girlfriend. Expecting any semblance of affection or intimacy even as another held his heart, branded her name over your own. It was always going to happen—knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

When finally you finished, the conclusion of your mournful, self-pitying tale followed by the sting of unwanted tears, Kaylen’s thoughtful silence waned. Her lips pursed, fingers twitching. You expected her to berate you; what had you expected, stupid girl? He has a girlfriend!

Instead, Kaylen hugged you. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulled back with that pitiful smile you’d seen one too many times—one you’d be fine with if you never saw again. “He cares about you—”

“Not how I care about him, though,” you finished, and Kaylen gave a weak nod.

“I mean, if you told him what Brooke and her little bitch of a friend said, I’m sure he’d leave her. He’s done more for less.” That much was true. Regardless of whose lips it came from, Jack didn’t tolerate disrespect towards you—cut long time friends off for assuming they had any authority to speak poorly of you.

And you knew—knew with the same certainty that you knew your own name—that Jack would break up with Brooke if he knew how she’d spoken of you.

That should’ve made you giddy. Bursted bright light in your chest at the prospect of having Jack to yourself once more. Instead, it made you feel heavy, sand packed into your bones. Who were you to invade his happiness? If he’d chosen Brooke, so be it.

Sure, she’d disparaged you, but Jack’s life wasn’t yours to dictate anymore. If he wanted Brooke, he’d have her, until he decided to leave—not because you decided for him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Eyelids heavy, the residue of late-night tears remaining on the skin, you felt the fight leave you. Kaylen frowned. “I just want it all to be over.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Seriously? You’re giving up on an eight year friendship because of something some dickface said about you? I thought Jack meant more to you than that.”

Kaylen’s words stung. Made you defensive, because she was right—you were giving up and you did care about Jack, but the pain had become too much. “It’s not—it’s harder to explain than that. He’s outgrown me, K. Everyone can see it but him. I’m an obligation, a burden, and yeah, maybe he loves me as a friend and maybe he wants me around, but his friends never have—his fucking girlfriend doesn’t. And at this point, I just want it to end, I want him to be happy without the conditions of making me happy.”

Silence followed. Contemplation showed clear on Kaylen’s face. You could tell, even without her words, that she didn’t agree—but, she didn’t comment on that. Rather, she placed a hand on your leg and squeezed.

Just like Jack always did.

“It’s your life, babe,” she conceded. “And if you want to do this, I’m not going to stop you—but you have to be content with it.” She gestured to you, the nest of blankets and red-rimmed eyes. “Because this? This isn’t happiness over a good choice. You’re miserable without him, and it’s been barely two days. Think about what you’re doing before it’s irreversible.”

With that, Kaylen got up and went to her own bed, and neither of you made comment of it for the rest of the day.

Her words came again and again like a fractured turntable. Of course you were miserable—Jack had been a constant in your life for eight years, consistently preserving your peace, including you when you’d never felt more like an outsider. Happiness was synonymous with Jack, his smile, his presence, him.

Did you regret your decision? Yes, and no. You regretted the way you’d gone about it. The petty silence, ignoring a person who’d made your younger years bearable. Your friendship deserved a better death than that, a reason rather than just… fading from existence, as if it never mattered in the first place.

That wasn’t the message you wanted conveyed, and so with fingers unsteadied by aftershocks, you texted Jack.

You weren’t sure how you’d explain, if you could tiptoe around the actual reason. Maybe you couldn’t, and maybe that was okay.

i’m so sorry for everything. i’ll explain in person. can we meet up?

Your response came half a second later. As if he were waiting. That selfish part of you prayed he had been.

j :)

ofc. my place tn?

yeah. that’s good. brooke won’t be upset?

Asking after her made you want to puke, but you knew it was necessary—she didn’t like Jack even breathing near you, having an entire sit down conversation with him was certainly out of the question.

Thrice, the little text bubble appeared and disappeared on your phone screen. You could sense the apprehension without any background knowledge.

j :)

not a problem. we broke up.

It was shameful, the backwards type of pleasure that brought you.

Maybe you were a terrible person. A terrible friend. You tried to reason that it wasn’t wrong to love someone, to wish they were yours.

shit j. i’m sorry

j :)

i’m not. i’ll see u tn. 7:30 work? have dinner w the guys.

yeah, that’s fine. see you soon, j.

j :)

be safe. i’ll text you when i’m home.

The hard part wasn’t even over, and your heart was already breaking in two.

Sweat beaded at your palms, the cold claws of apprehension raking down your spine. Countless times you’d been stood here, facing the lifeless beige of Jack’s apartment door. This time, however, you stood here knowing it was the last time. A silent farewell to familiarity, the ties finally cut. Jack would fight, you would cry, and maybe he’d be able to change your mind—it seemed such an unlikely outcome that it calcified every inhale in your throat.

Shaking hands rapped the wooden door, where behind would come the execution of a friendship you’d held like a crutch for years upon years. Your childhood had died, and maybe it would’ve been better had it been left there as well, so as to spare you this heart-rending pain.

Even still, you wouldn’t have traded those years for the world—everything they taught you, through pain and happiness. It made you who you were, brought you to his doorstep with melancholy eyes and a failing heart.

Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door, urgent in a way that picked up your heart rate. The next moments you imagined with brutal clarity—Jack’s hopeful gaze, blue in a way no one else’s ever had been, the soft slope of his nose you teased him for, scrunched whenever he was particularly concerned. How he’d usher you in, hear your words, plead for a moment to explain, and then admit his love for you.

That was how you dreamt it. Unsurprisingly, it was not how it went.

Instead of the door opening to reveal the man you’d love for a lifetime, the squealing hinges were followed by a face that nearly knocked you backwards. Previous indifference smeared into flat-out disdain as Brooke’s eyes caught your figure, engulfed in one of Jack’s faded hoodies and likely disheveled in a way she’d never experienced herself.

Arrows punctured your lungs, sole your breath and defaulted your barely beating heart. Brooke was here. At Jack’s apartment. After they’d supposedly broken up. Had he lied? Was he tricking you, making you the fool? He never would, you knew that, but your wounded mind spun falsities to perpetuate your pain, as if punishment for trusting him in the first place.

“What do you want?” Brooke grunted, leant against the doorframe. Lips twitched into a smirk, the smile of the victorious.

You’d never considered yourself a violent person, but the urge to punch her in the teeth itched your fists. “Is Jack here?”

Her face fell. Something dark flashed in her face—she hesitated a moment, tossed a look over her shoulder. “Yes.”

The curt response was better than nothing, you supposed. “Right, well, can you tell—”

Brooke ran a hand through her hair. Adjusted the clasp of her necklace. “We were kind of in the middle of something. Come back later?”

The axe struck down.

Gravel filled your throat. Suffocated you. If Brooke knew the affect of her words, for once it didn’t show on her face. Years of life had taught you many things, drug you through agonies you wouldn’t relive for anything, yet somehow, this was the worst pain.

To be betrayed, trust snapped by a single action, it stung. Wormed venom in your veins and contaminated your bloodstream, poisoning your heart. Realistically, Jack hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He was allowed to hook up with other girls, to love them—he had, for years.

That wasn’t the issue.

No, it was the fact that he’d set a time, invited you over, and somehow forgot? Or had he set it all up, just to rub it in your face, get his lick-back for your prolonged silence towards him? Either way, it hurt, hurt like a bitch.

Made stone, all you did for a moment was blink at Brooke before a voice called from the background, “Who is it?”

Jack.

Fright found you then, broke away your shell of stone. You couldn’t let him see you, the dog wishing once more to come in from the cold. If he’d planned it, and saw you, he knew he’d won. If he hadn’t planned it, then he realized that—irrecoverably—he fucked up. Both choices felt like a criminal trial you didn’t want any part of.

“I—um—have a good night,” you rushed out, feet stumbling over themselves as you practically ran away from Jack’s door.

So much for closure.

So much for being broken up.

Maybe this was your sign. The one you needed to finally pull away.

Because Jack Hughes didn’t love you. Not past platonic soulmates—a relationship stained with past memories, ones that made both of you incapable of letting go, even as you outgrew it.

You were done being second best. Done trying to squeeze into a place you didn’t fit anymore.

If Brooke was Jack’s choice, so be it. You didn’t want any part of it anymore.

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hischierbear · 1 month

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Nico Hischier tries Motocross 💌

#hockey #new jersey devils #nhl #nico hischier #hischier #captain hischier #nh13 #njd #nj devils #nhl hockey #national hockey league #motocross

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ifimdreaming · 5 days

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breakfast

luke hughes x reader // fluff

a/n: waking up with luke as hes back in michigan . just cute and cuddly morning vibe. i wrote this super quick so theres probably a ton of grammatical errors.

word count: 0.7k

“Breakfast!” jack calls from downstairs and you groggily roll over onto luke's arm, him still being fast asleep beside you.

It had only been a few days that luke had been back in michigan but you were already taking full advantage of the time you got with him while you could.

You couldnt help but watch as his eyes flutter in his sleep, his arm tucked under your body and his bare chest uncovered from the bed sheets as you watched it rise and fall.

He looked so pretty sleeping as the morning sun pours in the room that you almost didnt want to wake him. and just as you were about to, his eyes flutter open and blink down at you, adjusting to the brightness of the room.

“g’morning” he mumbles to you with a smug smile on his face after catching you wathcing him sleep and he places a kiss on your forehead before settling in to stare at you back

“Jack made breakfast” you state with a half-annoyed tone in your voice and watch lukes face change from bliss to annoyance as he rolls his eyes.

Both luke and his mom have been trying to get jack to rest as much as possible after his surgery but instead, he continues on making meals for everyone and insists that he is ‘only getting stronger everyday’ and 'ready to do more around the house' and that ‘cooking is a necessity’. Regardless, it annoyed luke that jack wouldnt just rest and let their mom do the cooking while hes still healing.

“m’not hungry…” you say as luke rolls over, stretching his arms out and sitting up with his legs off the bed, “are you?” you ask him through a yawn

“no but if we dont go down, he'll just keep calling for us” luke laughs out as he is about to get up from the bed but you reach your arm out to him as you scoot over, sitting right beside him. With his back facing you, you hold his arm in your hand and begin to place kisses on his bare shoulder and down his arm.

You knew luke was always clingy in the morning. He always gave in when you wanted to lay in bed with him for a bit extra time and honestly, usually he was the one making you stay.

“nuh-uh. I gotta get up… or i never will” luke says through a groan as you continue your kisses on his back

“Please 5 minutes” you reach into his hair and play with the curls behind his ear and down his neck, you knew all of his weaknesses

Luke turns his head to look at you and meets your eyes with a sly smile and shakes his head. This only eggs you on as you wrap your hand around his neck and he leans down as you are pulling him slightly closer to your face but not kissing him yet.

“You know what youre doing.” luke says, inches away from your face before he crashes his lips on yours. His hands caress your face with gentle strokes and almost instantly hes moving fully back onto the bed with you.

His hands make their way from your face then to your neck, and then down to your hips in an instant.

You pull at his curls near the nape of his neck, wanting him to be even closer to you than he was, his body fully covering yours as he explores your entire body with his hand, the other hand holding himself up.

“You cant do this to me” luke breaks away from your lips and looks down at your half-naked body, almost unable to look away but you lift his chin slightly so he is looking in your eyes

“Im not doing anything. you kissed me first” you whisper as you are unable to say this without the corners of your lips lifting into a smile and blush covering your cheeks

luke just kisses you in response and continues his journey exploring your body, this time with his lips instead of his hands as he lifts your shirt from your stomach and places gentle kisses all over.

“Luke! Come get breakfast before i have to come up there!” jack yells again, knowing you were over and luke would desperately not want his brother coming into his room right now.

“What a little shit” luke whispers to only you, “we’re coming!” he yells back to jack and then flops his body on top of yours defeatedly.

“Up you get lukey” you say with muffled breath, his body weight causing your lungs to lose almost all of their strength before he climbs off the bed. You snuggled in under the covers again, needing to feel the warmth of the bed just a minute longer before going downstairs

Luke looks over at you dissapointedly before he lifts you up in one swift motion and over his shoulder.

“yep, up we get” he says while he carries you on his shoulder to the bathroom as you giggle uncontrollably, secretly obsessed with everything he does

#nj devils #nhl #luke hughes #devils lb #new jersey devils #jack hughes #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #njd

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estapa-edwards · 13 days

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TEAM SWEETHEART - J. HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 2.7k

requested? yes - jack being in love with an absolute sweetheart and she’s part of the devils team, he introduces her to his family and they can tell how much jack is head over heals in love with her, and she also has a great relationship with luke

warnings: use of y/n.

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As Y/N stepped into the locker room, her presence commanded attention. Her smile was radiant, her eyes filled with warmth and excitement. Jack felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him as he watched her, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her.

"Hey everyone, this is Y/N," the team's manager announced, gesturing towards her. "She'll be joining us as our new social media manager."

The room erupted into cheers and applause, welcoming Y/N with open arms. But for Jack, it felt like time had slowed down, his gaze locked on her as if drawn by an invisible force.

Y/N's eyes met Jack's, and for a moment, the world around them faded away. In that instant, Jack felt a connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if he had known Y/N his entire life, as if their souls were somehow intertwined, destined to find each other in this moment.

As the team continued to welcome Y/N, Jack couldn't shake the feeling of warmth spreading through him. He wanted nothing more than to get to know her, to learn every little detail about the person who had captured his heart with just a smile.

Throughout the rest of the day, Jack found himself stealing glances at Y/N whenever he could, his heart racing with anticipation. And as they interacted more and more, Jack knew without a doubt that Y/N was someone special – someone he couldn't imagine his life without.

The locker room was buzzing with excitement as Y/N set up her phone to film the latest TikTok for the New Jersey Devils' social media account. Jack Hughes sat in his locker, lacing up his skates, trying to focus on the game ahead, but his attention kept drifting to Y/N.

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Y/N moved around the room with ease, her energy infectious as she interacted with the players, her phone poised to capture every moment. Despite his nerves about being on camera, Jack couldn't help but admire her passion for her work.

"Hey, Jack, want to be in this TikTok?" Y/N called out, flashing him a playful grin.

Jack's heart skipped a beat at the invitation. He wasn't usually a fan of being filmed, but if it meant getting Y/N's attention, he was willing to make an exception.

"Sure, why not?" Jack replied with a nervous chuckle, standing up from his locker and joining Y/N in front of the camera.

As Y/N began recording, she turned to Jack with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Alright, Jack, when's the last time you called your parents for something?"

Jack's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he racked his brain for an answer. He wasn't used to being put on the spot like this, especially in front of his teammates.

"Uh, I think it was last week," Jack said, his voice slightly shaky with nerves. "I called my mom to ask for her chicken soup recipe."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to Jack's ears. "Classic mom move. Thanks, Jack!"

As Y/N moved on to the next player, Jack couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. Despite his initial discomfort with being on camera, he was grateful for the opportunity to make Y/N smile, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.

Throughout the rest of the day, Jack found himself eagerly anticipating the next TikTok shoot, eager to spend more time with Y/N and show her just how much he was willing to do for her attention.

Jack couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N as she bustled around, her infectious smile brightening the room. From the moment he first met her, he was captivated by her warmth, her kindness, and her unwavering passion for the team. She was more than just a colleague to him; she was his everything.

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As the game drew nearer, Jack found himself growing more nervous, not about the match, but about introducing Y/N to his family. He wanted them to see what he saw – an incredible woman who had stolen his heart. Taking a deep breath, he approached Y/N who was busy checking her phone for the latest fan tweets.

"Hey, Y/N," Jack said, his voice slightly shaky with nerves.

Y/N looked up, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "Hey, Jack! Ready for the game tonight?"

Jack nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, but there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's up?"

Jack took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I was thinking... after the game, would you want to meet my parents? They are in town, and I'd love for them to meet you."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Really? You want me to meet your family?"

Jack nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah, I want them to see how amazing you are. What do you say?"

Y/N's smile grew wider, and she nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to, Jack. Thank you for inviting me."

Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that Y/N had accepted his invitation. As they went about their respective duties leading up to the game, Jack couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation building inside him. He couldn't wait for his family to meet the woman who had stolen his heart.

After the game ended in a thrilling victory for the Devils, Jack wasted no time in leading Y/N to where his family was waiting outside the arena. As they approached, Jack's heart pounded in his chest, nervousness mixing with excitement.

"Mom, Dad, this is Y/N," Jack said, his voice filled with pride as he introduced Y/N to his parents.

Y/N greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with kindness. "It's so nice to finally meet you both. Jack has told me so much about you."

Jack's parents exchanged a knowing glance, a smile tugging at their lips. They could see just how much Jack was head over heels in love with Y/N, and they couldn't be happier for him.

"It's wonderful to meet you too, Y/N," Jack's mom said, pulling her into a hug. "We've heard a lot about you too."

As they chatted and laughed together, Jack couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. Seeing Y/N getting along so well with his family only reaffirmed his feelings for her.

As they continued to chat, Jack's dad couldn't help but tease Jack a little. "So, Jack, when were you planning on introducing us to this lovely lady? We were starting to think you were keeping her all to yourself."

Jack laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "I wanted to make sure it was the right time, Dad. But I'm glad you finally get to meet her."

Y/N chuckled at the exchange, feeling instantly at ease with Jack's family. "Well, I'm just grateful Jack invited me. I've been looking forward to meeting you both."

Jack's mom smiled warmly at Y/N. "We're glad you're here, dear. Jack hasn't stopped talking about you since the day he met you."

Jack's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he couldn't hide the smile that spread across his face. "I can't help it. Y/N is pretty amazing."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as they walked to Jack's family's car, Jack's younger brother Luke joining in with his usual enthusiasm. Luke immediately took a liking to Y/N, chatting animatedly with her about the latest hockey game and sharing stories from his own experiences with the team.

As they reached the car, Jack's mom turned to Y/N with a twinkle in her eye. "Y/N, would you like to join us for dinner tonight? We'd love to get to know you better."

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement, and she glanced at Jack for confirmation. He nodded eagerly, his heart swelling with happiness at the prospect of spending more time with Y/N and his family.

"I would love to," Y/N said with a bright smile. "Thank you so much for the invitation."

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The dinner scene unfolded with a comforting ambiance of familial warmth, as the aroma of delicious home-cooked meals filled the air and laughter resonated throughout the room. Jack's family had gone above and beyond to make Y/N feel welcomed, and as they all sat around the table, it was evident that this evening would leave a lasting impression on everyone present.

As the meal progressed, Jack's mom, with her nurturing demeanor, couldn't resist peppering Y/N with questions, eager to learn more about the woman who had captured her son's heart. "Y/N, dear, you must tell us more about yourself. Jack has told us so much, but we want to hear it from you."

Y/N, her cheeks flushed with warmth at the attention, smiled gratefully. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. I grew up in a small town not too far from here, and ever since I can remember, I've had a passion for hockey. It's been a dream come true to work with the Devils."

Jack's dad, a beacon of support and wisdom, nodded approvingly. "That's wonderful to hear, Y/N. We can tell how much you love what you do."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, with Jack's family sharing stories of their own and Y/N reciprocating with tales from her childhood and her experiences with the team. With each passing moment, the bond between Y/N and Jack's family grew stronger, the shared laughter and camaraderie weaving them together like threads in a tapestry.

As the evening drew to a close and the remnants of the meal were cleared away, Jack's mom turned to Y/N with a smile that radiated warmth. "Y/N, we're so grateful to have you here tonight. You've brought so much joy into our home, and we can't wait to spend more time with you in the future."

Y/N's heart swelled with gratitude, feeling truly embraced by Jack's family. "Thank you so much for having me. I've had a wonderful time tonight."

Jack found himself walking Y/N to the door, a mischievous glint in his eyes as they exchanged playful banter under the soft glow of the porch light.

"So, did you have fun tonight?" Jack inquired, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he stole a sideways glance at Y/N.

Y/N's smile was radiant, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the evening. "Of course I did. Your family is amazing, Jack. I feel so lucky to have met them."

Jack's heart swelled with affection at her words, his gaze lingering on her as they approached the front door. "Well, they're pretty fond of you too, you know. I think my mom might like you more than she likes me."

Y/N laughed, a melodious sound that sent a shiver down Jack's spine. "I highly doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment."

With a surge of boldness, Jack closed the remaining distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away as they shared the moment, the gentle rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.

Little did they know, Luke had been watching from the hallway, a knowing smile spreading across his face. He had always suspected there was a spark between his brother and Y/N, and seeing them together only confirmed his suspicions.

As Jack and Y/N reluctantly pulled away, their cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and bashfulness, Luke couldn't resist teasing them. "Well, well, well, looks like someone finally worked up the courage to make a move."

Jack's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shot Luke a playful glare. "Mind your own business, Luke."

Y/N giggled, feeling a newfound sense of camaraderie with Jack's younger brother. "Don't worry, Jack. I think it's sweet."

With a final goodbye and promises to see each other again soon, Y/N stepped out into the night, leaving Jack standing in the doorway with a smile on his face and a warmth in his heart that he knew would linger long after she was gone.

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As they sat in the meeting, Jack and Y/N couldn't deny the magnetic pull between them, their gazes constantly gravitating towards each other despite the discussions happening around them. It was as if the air crackled with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires, heightening the tension between them to almost unbearable levels.

Jack found himself mesmerized by Y/N's every movement, from the way her hair fell in gentle waves around her face to the way her lips curved into a subtle smile. He longed to reach out and brush his fingers against hers, to feel the warmth of her touch and lose himself in the depths of her eyes.

Meanwhile, Y/N's heart raced with each stolen glance at Jack, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to finally give in to the undeniable attraction between them, to explore the depths of their connection without any inhibitions holding them back.

As the meeting dragged on, the tension between Jack and Y/N only seemed to intensify, reaching a crescendo that left them both breathless. Every accidental touch sent shivers down their spines, igniting a fire within them that threatened to consume them whole.

Finally, as the meeting came to an end and the rest of the team began to file out of the room, Jack and Y/N shared a lingering look filled with silent promises and unspoken desires. It was a moment that spoke volumes, a silent agreement to explore the depths of their connection and embrace the undeniable chemistry between them.

And as they stepped out of the meeting room and into the bustling office, the rest of the team couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the dynamic between Jack and Y/N. They exchanged knowing looks and playful nudges, silently rooting for them to finally acknowledge the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

For Jack and Y/N, the tension between them was undeniable, a palpable electricity that coursed through their veins and bound them together in a way that neither of them could resist.

The air in the locker room was charged with excitement as the team prepared for another game. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Jack stole a moment alone with Y/N, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.

"Hey, Y/N," Jack said, his voice laced with a hint of flirtation as he flashed her a playful grin.

Y/N turned to him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Hey, Jack. What's up?"

Jack took a deep breath, summoning all his courage as he reached out to gently cup Y/N's cheek. "I've been thinking, and I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. Like, officially."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Really? You mean like, be your girlfriend?"

Jack nodded, his heart racing with anticipation. "Yeah, exactly like that. So, what do you say?"

Y/N's smile widened into a grin as she leaned in closer to Jack, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, I suppose I could make an exception for you, Hughes."

With that, Jack's face broke into a radiant smile as he leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a sweet, tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, the warmth of their embrace enveloping them like a cocoon.

And then, as if on cue, the rest of the team burst into applause, their cheers filling the locker room with a chorus of celebration. Jack and Y/N pulled away from each other, their cheeks flushed with happiness as they basked in the glow of their newfound relationship.

As the applause died down, Jack couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the incredible woman standing before him. With her by his side, he knew that anything was possible, and he couldn't wait to embark on this new chapter of their lives together.

And so, amidst the cheers and laughter of their teammates, Jack and Y/N shared one final kiss, sealing their newfound love with a promise to cherish each other for eternity.

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #njd

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heartsandhischier · 23 days

Text

Rink Bonds

luke hughes x female!reader

summary - 1.1k words. Figure skating reader and Michigan wolverine Luke = loveeeee

author's note - i can really see luke being like this, and i love it

warnings - none

You pushed open the heavy doors of Yost Arena, the familiar chill of the ice rink greeting you as you stepped inside. With a gap in your class schedule, you decided to make the most of it by hitting the ice for some practice. Another USFS intercollegiate competition approaching, you were determined to come out on top.

You headed to the locker room changing into your figure skating gear – black tights, a black jacket, and leg warmers – before lacing up your skates. After stowing your belongings in a locker, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the rink. As you approached, the familiar sound of skates scraping against the ice and the clinking of hockey sticks filled your ears, indicating that you wouldn’t have the ice to yourself as you’d hoped.

Your annoyance faded, however, when you spotted the stowaway on the ice – Luke Hughes. Swiftly moving around the ice, navigating the puck as he let it fly into the net. The youngest of the famous Hughes brothers and a New Jersey Devils prospect, Luke was a familias name around the Michigan University campus, of course you knew who he was.

You had crossed paths with him a handful of times at various parties, and during your late-night practices at the rink, you’d often find him lingering after his hockey practice. Despite these encounters, you’d never engaged in more than a few awkward hellos and goodbyes. Each time he exited the rink, you’d enter, and vice versa, exchanging fleeting glances and polite nods as you passed by each other.

As you watched Luke’s graceful movements on the ice, it was as if he belonged there, the rink his natural habitat. Removing your skate guards and placing your water bottle on the bench, you elegantly glided onto the ice. The sound of skates slicing through the ice echoed in the rink as Luke paused his movements, turning his attention towards you. His warm smile greeted you as you approached. “Practice?” he offered, leaning casually on his stick.

A smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, change in my class schedule. So figured I’d put the newfound free time to good use,” you replied. “Same,” Luke chuckled. With a nod, you both resumed your routines, the sound of skates carving the ice filling the air.

For the next hour, you and Luke practiced on opposite sides of the rink, occasionally exchanging glances and playful banter. “You’re pretty good, Hughes,” you remarked, admiring his skill as he effortlessly sent the puck into the net.

“Likewise,” he laughed, skating around with ease.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself meeting again and again at the empty rink. It almost became an unspoken agreement between you and Luke, meeting at the same time between classes or during those late evenings when the campus was quiet.

With each meeting, your bond grew stronger, fueled by shared practices and playful banter. As you glided across the ice, Luke would often join you, his skates slicing through the surface so effortlessly. Despite the differences in your respective sports, you found common ground in your shared love for the rink.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Luke patiently tried to explain the nuances of hockey to you, his passion evident in every gesture. In return, you attempted to teach him the graceful movements of figure skating, guiding him through simple maneuvers with a patient hand.

“Okay, so imagine you’re gliding on air,” you explain, demonstrating a graceful spin on your skates. “Now, give it a try.”

Luke nodded eagerly, his determination shining through as he attempted to mimic your movements. Though his first attempts were a bit clumsy, you couldn’t help but admire his determination.

“Almost there,” you encouraged, stifling a laugh as he stumbled and fell onto the ice, landing on his butt with a thud.

As you focused on perfecting your flip jump, you felt a presence approaching on the ice. Turning around, you saw Luke skating towards you flashing you a charming smile. “Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying over the sound of skates slicing through the ice. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to my hockey game this weekend. It’s going to be a good one.”

You paused your practice, meeting his gaze with a playful smirk. “Hmm, tempting offer,” you replied, tilting your head to the side. “But only if you promise to come to my competition next week.”

Luke chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal,” he agreed without hesitation, extending his hand in a mock handshake.

With a wink, Luke skated backward, resuming his practice. “Can’t wait to see you there,” he called out before speeding off across the ice.

On the day of the hockey game, you found yourself seated in the stands, eagerly watching as the Michigan Wolverines took to the ice. During warmups, Luke skated to where you were seated in the stands, approaching with a smirk.

“I have a bet,” he declared, you smirked at him letting out a soft chuckle before urging him to go on. “If I score, you have to go on a date with me,” he continued, his confidence evident in his tone. Chuckling at his boldness, you accepted, “What if you don’t?” you asked. “We both know that won’t happen,” he winked before resuming his warm up.

As the game progressed, you watched in amazement as Luke displayed his skill on the ice, scoring goal after goal with precision and finesse. The puck went flying into the net, sending the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The arena echoed with the sound of the buzzer, a hat trick – this idiot scored a hat trick.

After the final buzzer sounded and the Michigan Wolverines secured a clear victory, Luke skated over to you with a triumphant grin on his face. “Well, what did you think?” he asked eagerly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, nodding in approval. “Impressive,” you admitted. “I mean, a hat trick? Way to show off,” you playfully remarked.

Luke let out a chuckle, his confidence soaring. “Thanks,” he replied, running a hand through his dark curls. “But I couldn’t have done it without a little motivation.” You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh, so it was all about our little bet, huh?" you teased. Luke chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Partly," he admitted, his tone turning more sincere. "But mostly because I wanted to impress you." The admission caught you off guard, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider me impressed," you said, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. As the crowd began to disperse, Luke turned to you with a hopeful expression. "So, about that date..." he trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air. You pretended to mull it over for a moment, though the answer was already clear in your mind.

"I suppose I owe you one.”

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fiapartridge · 1 month

Note

2/2. May I please request something with Jack? His girlfriend being nervous/insecure because not only does she not know his family/team mates/friends etc but she has no prior knowledge/experience with hockey (any sports/sport activities really) and boating etc. Just feeling out of place in a world where her boyfriend and his family are some of the best/most famous. Obviously take this in whatever direction you wish or ignore it. (I come from a family of artistic city people and my only extracurriculars were volunteering at libraries and museums, I am as boring as they come lol)

obsessed | jack hughes

"i'm so obsessed with your ex..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: realizing that you have nothing in common with jack, you start to wonder why he even likes you in the first place.

warning(s): angst with a happy ending, cursing, luke and quinn being dicks sorry lol

fia's note 💌: VERYYY loose interpretation of this request LOL SORRY IF THIS IS ASS okayyy enjoy!

not proofread (i got lazy sorry lol)

You should’ve known what you were getting into once you got into your relationship with Jack. You should’ve known that it would be hard; that dating a hockey player—a famous hockey player—would be hard, but you, for some reason, didn’t let that stop you. During times like these, you wish it did.

“So, Y/N, how’d you get into hockey?” Ellen asked from across the dinner table. You were too busy stuffing your plate to hear, and once the table fell silent, you knew she had asked you something.

Embarrassed, you set your plate down, taking Jack’s hand instead. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

She laughed, and then the whole table laughed, and you felt your cheeks grow warmer and your body more tense. Was it that bad? “I asked how you got into hockey, honey.”

“Oh,” you smiled, turning to her. “I didn’t really get into hockey until I met Jack,” you said, leaning closer to him as he smiled softly in return. To be honest, you were glad that you hadn’t been into hockey, or any sports in general, prior to meeting Jack. He taught you how to score a goal, how to celly, and even how to take a hit on the ice. (Jack said he was hitting you just how he would any guy, but you knew he didn’t even put a 1/10th of his weight onto you. Then, he called you Hulk for not even realizing how hard it was. You thought he was bluffing; you still do.)

“You don’t play, or skate, or anything?” Jim asked, cutting into his steak and stuffing the small slice into his mouth.

You shook your head. “No, I, um, my family wasn’t really big on any of that.”

Poking his head up, Luke smiled towards Jack as he pointed his fork at the older boy. “Katy knew all about hockey.”

Katy? You tilted your head to Jack, silently asking who Katy was. It was like he was trying to not make eye contact with you, like he was embarrassed. For who? For you? For him? Slipping your hand out from his, you placed both of yours under your thighs, trying to still yourself from shaking. You shook when you were nervous. Jack knew and he was scared—scared that his family was gonna go ahead and ruin it all.

Sensing your confusion, Luke nodded at you. “Katy was Jack’s girlfriend in high school. Lead scorer in her team’s league. She was legendary. Whatever happened to her, Jack?”

You felt your chest clench, and your hands underneath your thighs weren’t helping anything, and you couldn’t stop bouncing your knee, and Ellen was staring at you again. You just wished they would stop staring at you, like they were waiting for a reaction from you.

“Luke, shut up,” Jack scolded, trying to grab your hand from under your thigh as you shook your head. You just wanted this to be over. You shouldn’t have agreed to meet his family. You shouldn’t have agreed to be with him. You were never going to be enough; not when there’s Katy; not when he had the most perfect girl for him, and he still chose to break up with her. When was he going to break up with you? Probably after this dinner. Probably after his family tells him that you’re not the one; that you’re not like Katy at all.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted as Luke was just about to spew his rebuttal. You stood from your chair, laying your cloth napkin on the table as Jack looked up at you with concern. “Um, can I go to the bathroom?”

Quinn laughed. He laughed. He fucking laughed at you.

“Sure, honey,” Ellen smiled, silently scolding Quinn. “It’s in the hallway by the kitchen, third door on the right.”

“Thank you,” you said, not even looking up at anyone before quickly racing to the bathroom.

Locking the door, you sat on the toilet cover, pulling out your phone, and immediately going to Instagram. He has to be following her. Someone has to be following her. And right when you searched up “Katy” on Luke’s Instagram following, there she was, in all of her hockey glory. The perfect girl.

She had sandy blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and she looked at least 5’8, maybe even taller. She wore designer brands that your bank account wouldn’t even allow you to look at, and God, she looked amazing in that dress. But somehow, in some possible way, she looked even better in her hockey gear. She still had posts with Jack in her tags. She’s sitting on his lap at a party, red Solo cups in hand as he stares at her with a look he had never given you. You can see the way she’s loved by everyone around her; the way Ellen holds her like a daughter; how Luke plays games with her like a sister; how Trevor carries her over his shoulder like they’re best friends. You’ve never felt that way with anyone close to Jack.

Even back in New Jersey, every time you went out with the team, you felt like you were just there. Like you were just wasted space. Sometimes you wondered if they even knew your name. You told them plenty of times, but Dawson still asks every time you see him, and Nico still gives you those sad pity smiles, like it’s another reminder that you don’t fit in with Jack and his friends.

Sometimes you even question it. Why are you with Jack? You’re total opposites. He loves hockey, you know nothing about the sport. You think staying in and knitting is fun when his ideal nights are going to parties and getting drunk off his ass. You guys don’t even look good together. You know who he looks good with? Katy.

Katy. Katy. Katy.

You’ll never be Katy.

“Y/N?” A knock at the door took you out of your spiral as you stared at the wooden slab, too scared to open it and be met with his entire family laughing at you from the hallway. “Baby, it’s Jack. I,” he stammered. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized, his forehead resting on the door in front of him. I lost her, he thought. There’s no coming back from this. She hates me and my family, and I blew it. “I screamed at Luke; he had no right to talk to you like that. And Quinn’s getting yelled at by my mom as we speak. Please just—please let me in.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you opened the door, being met with a distressed Jack whose eyes were red and whose lips were swollen with the amount of chewing he was doing to them. It broke your heart to see him that way, but his family was right. Katy was perfect, and you’re nothing like her.

“Baby,” Jack stepped closer as you took a step back, ripping his heart into pieces. “Y/N.”

“Your family’s right, Jack.” “No, they’re not,” he argued.

You nodded, frowning, and holding back a sob because it felt over. It felt so over. “They are. They are because what do we have in common, Jack? Nothing! We have nothing in common, and everybody sees it! Jack, I—”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t say it. Don’t break up with me.”

“Jack—”

“Who the fuck cares?” he exclaimed. “Who cares if we have nothing in common? I like you, I want to be with you, you’re my person! I don’t see that with anyone else.”

Rolling your hand down your face, you let out a tired sigh. “You’re gonna see it, Jack. You’re gonna realize that I’m not your person; that I’m not the one you want; that I’m awkward and boring and don’t get along with anyone you care about, and you’re gonna break my heart. And that’s just how it is.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now? You think I could ever get tired of you? I like you because you’re nothing like my friends, or my family, or anyone I’ve ever dated. I broke up with Katy because her life was just hockey, and my life was just hockey, and everything was just hockey.” Stepping closer, he held your hips as your back hit the sink behind you. “I don’t want my life to be hockey. You’re the part of my life that I need. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d go crazy,” he laughed as you rubbed your sleeve against your wet nose.

“Your friends don’t like me.”

“Fuck them,” he grinned, running his thumbs up and down your waist. “Plus, you haven’t met Coley yet. Think he’d like you more than he likes me.”

“What’s he like?”

“Taylor Swift karaoke—”

“Sold,” you chuckled as he shook his head, smiling at you like you were the only girl in the world, because to him, you were. “So this Katy girl,” you said, raising your eyebrow slyly.

“Is irrelevant,” he answered. “I only have eyes for you, pretty girl.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #njd #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #jack hughes angst #jack hughes fluff

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leaentries · 19 days

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headcanons | luke hughes

SUMMARY: boyfriend!luke

WARNINGS: not proofread

more boyfriend!player headcanons

✮. he’s a shy lover! luke has a hard time expressing his emotions sometimes, so he often finds himself shying away or hiding his face into the crook of your neck while the two of you have a heart to heart moment. he’ll turn all red a blushy the second you start loving all up on him, especially when you tell him how amazing he is.

✮. PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR!! luke turns to absolute putty the second your fingers come into contact with his curls. like you could just be chillin on the couch and your hands will somehow find the back of his head. no joke, he will literally fall sideways into your lap so you can have a better reach. 9 out of 10 times he will most likely fall asleep.

✮. a huge foodie. loves loves loves to eat with you. we are all aware that the team calls him rusty because he’s always eating. will always have your favorite snacks in his bag so you’re never hungry. is always concerned about whether you’re eating enough or drinking enough. will take it upon himself to be with you for at least one meal of the day. yes, he does have dinner dates with you over facetime during roadies.

✮. along with this, he loves to facetime you! whenever possible, if he’s isn’t with you that is, he wants to be able to see your pretty face and yap to you about the most random things. whether it’s about your toast getting burnt or his charger breaking, you’ll talk about it.

✮. always listens to you intently. luke is the type of guy who will always make eye contact with you while you’re talking and will actively engage with you. he wants to make sure you know he’s listening and cares about what you’re saying. will bend down to your height and lean his ear in closer if you’re on the quieter side.

✮. leaves his clothes at your place on “accident.” new-flash, it’s never on accident. if luke stays at your apartment for more than a few hours there is a 90% chance he’s gonna end up leaving a hoodie or pair of sweats behind. you’ll end up getting a “i’m coming back over” text from him an hour after he left. he does this for two reasons: 1. he makes sure to give himself a legit excuse to come back and see you 2. he knows you’ll probably end up stealing said clothing item and wearing it.

✮. continuing from the last point, luke melts every time you wear something of his or something with his name on it. a little piece inside of him jumps for joy every time he sees you wearing one of his hoodies or showing up to games in his jersey. it helps ease the bit of him that gets insecure sometimes. it’s a way of telling the world that your his girl.

✮. he’s a puppy. period. he follows you around the apartment 24/7 if you’re together. never wants to leave your side unless he absolutely has to. will always pull your body into his in public so his mind is at ease. when his anxiety or worries spike, he is rushing to find or call you. you are his comfort blanket.

✮. let’s you pick out his outfits. luke had a tendency to have questionable style from time to time, so you took the liberty of making sure he is at least matching colors. you are tired. he does not like to listen, but will inevitably always wear what you tell him to.

✮. big napper/snuggler. will cocoon the both of you in blankets till you can barely move. has an alarm on his phone everyday to remind the both of you to take a nap together. doesn’t give you an option about it either. if you don’t feel like napping with him before a game, he will whine and pester you claiming that “it’s your fault if we lose” or “you’re my good luck charm, pretty girl. you have to nap with me or i won’t play good.”

✮. someone please find me a luke hughes

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes headcanons #luke hughes blurb #njd #new jersey devils #lea writes stuff ♡

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hd-junglebook · 3 days

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The Pregnancy Series

With all three of my favorite boys!

I've never really been into the pregnancy tropes because I don't like the way it just happens so suddenly and changes the original plot, but I feel like they'd be such cute dads (I have a thing for dilf's)

Summary: Y/n had always been the independent, only child of two successful business owners. The last thing she wanted to do was follow in their footsteps but when she told them her dreams, they cut her off, leaving her to fend for herself out in the real world.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Summary: Y/n had been trying to have a baby for the past two years finally when she thinks all is well, her husband divorces her leaving her with a fresh pregnancy and empty home. She feels like all hope is lost, until she meets jack who can't seem to get enough of her and her bump.

coming soon

The young dad over here

Summary: Y/n and Luke had been on and off for a year, no title, no commitment, no "what are we", until y/n finds out some news that she's sure will have Luke running for the hills.

coming soon

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

🍯Luke Hughes

Maybe number soft morning sex but they have to be quiet as to not wake up Jack?? Like oc is nervous about being to loud and Luke convinces her they can be quiet enough and Jack is a deep sleeper. (Consensual convincing of course)

Prompt list two:

39. “You take me so well”

42. “Feels good,doesn’t it?”

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 822

♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut!! good ol' lazy spooning morning sex, p in v, nothing else?

♡ ─ ev's notes | again, LUKE HUGHES DEF WHIMPERS

Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn escaping your mouth as you stretched out your arms. Glancing at the bedside clock, you saw that it was 9:49 am. Waking up this early on a Sunday felt like a crime, but the distant sound of the TV in Jack's room suggested he was already up.

Sensing movement beside you, you realized that Luke had also woken up. A lazy smile adorned your face as Luke turned towards you, his eyes adjusting to the morning light. A gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his messy hair fell across his forehead making your stomach do a little flip. He always looked so cute in the morning.

"Morning," Luke murmured, his voice still husky with sleep, as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "Why is Jack up this early?"

You shook your head as you sighed. "Not sure but I don't think I can go back to bed with all the noise."

"Yeah, me neither." Luke's lips curved into a smirk as he watched you, his hands moving downward to settle on your waist. "Maybe we should do something else, then?"

A soft laugh escaped your mouth as Luke spoke, shaking your head at disbelief. His hands moved down to your hips and squeezed roughly, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Luke..." You sighed, "Don't you think Jack will hear something?"

"Only if you're not quiet," Luke shot back, his fingers drawing circles on your hips as he watched you. "Please, baby?"

You rolled your eyes in annoyance but you couldn't say you didn't want to, either. This past week, you and Luke hadn't done anything because Jack was somehow always in the way. You would be lying if you didn't miss how Luke made you feel, how full he always made you feel.

"Fine." You huffed, making Luke let out a relieved sigh. You turned your body so that Luke would be spooning you and he immediately pushed his hard-on against you, a shiver going down your spine; he was not joking, he was rock hard.

Luke's hands were settled on your hips before one of his hands went down to your underwear, teasing you through your underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh, "Luke, please."

If this was any other time, Luke would've teased you endlessly. But right now, he wanted to fuck just as (if not more) than you. "Okay, okay baby." He pulled down your pajama shorts effortlessly, rubbing his clothed cock against your ass. You heard his breathing quicken behind you, making your whole body warm up.

Luke pulled out his cock and pushed your underwear to the side quickly, lining up his tip to your entrance. He pushed in and the both of you let out relieved sighs, relishing in the feeling of each other. "Fuck, I missed this. You take me so well, baby."

You let out a whimper in response as Luke bottomed you completely, holding your hips against his. You felt so full and so good, you loved how he made you feel -- it was like you two were made for each other. Luke let you adjust before he began slowly thrusting in and out you, creating sounds that echoed throughout the room.

"Feels good, huh, baby?" Luke grunted in between thrusts as you nodded, your mouth hanging out. "Gotta be quiet, princess."

He knew you couldn't no matter how hard you tried, which made his ego skyrocket. One of his hands clasped against your mouth, effectively quieting you down. "Take me so good, baby."

Luke's other hand went up to lift your leg so he could fuck you deeper, making you let out a muffled moan. Luke let out a few more groans of his own and he hoped that Jack was too engulfed in whatever show he was watching to hear. His hips snapped against your ass quicker, both of you chasing after your highs.

"Shit, so close baby." Luke felt your cunt clench around him, making his whole body twitch. "So close, baby." He moved his face to the crook of your neck as he felt himself edge closer to release.

He felt you tighten around him before cumming around him, causing him to let out a grunt. A few more deep thrusts and he was cumming inside you, both of you sweaty and sticky messes. Luke let go of your leg but he didn't pull out, he instead pulled you closer against his chest.

After you both catched your breaths, Luke let out a chuckle. "I really hope Jack didn't hear anything."

"Oh yeah, and who's the one who 'should be quieter'" You teased as he shook his head playfully.

"It's not my fault you have a million dollar pussy." Luke shrugged, earning a playful glare from you.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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misschino · 1 month

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This is soo cute

NICO... the shirt tucked in the pants.. make you looks like a dad

Jack being a puppy

And luke having the sassy pose

#hockey #new jersey devils #nj devils #nico hischier #njd #devils lb

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heavenlyhischier · 9 months

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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐰 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 3k

summary: what do you do when you fight with your best friend before you go back home and his brother calls you, offering to fly you out because his little brothers been moping around?

warnings: jealous luke (but only a little bit), cursing, angst but not too bad i don’t think (just besties fighting and making up), unedited, make out sesh at the end

You had been curled up on your couch all day watching Jersey Shore when you heard your phone vibrate on the coffee table. Pausing the show, you leaned forward to grab your phone and furrowed your brows when Jack’s name was displayed across the top of the screen. After the way you had left things with Luke the last time you visited, you debated on whether or not you wanted to answer the call. However, the anxious thoughts that something might have happened to your closest friend were enough to slide your finger across the screen.

“Hey,” You answered, fingers nervously dragging across the blanket in your lap, “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, I was going to ask you that question,” Jack’s voice came through the other end, laced with a slight sense of worry and curiosity.

“Everything’s fine,” You slowly spoke, straightening your back, “Why?”

“I don’t know, Luke’s just been super mopey since you left. Like even worse than he usually is, and he won’t talk to me,” Jack sighed, and you could picture him running his hand through his hair, “I was thinking that maybe I could fly you up here for the weekend. Seeing you always makes him feel better.”

Your breathing faltered at his words before you managed a weak, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jack’s silence on the other end made you nervous. You don’t blame him, of course. You had been friends with Luke for nearly three years now and not once had you turned down a visit to see him. Not when he was at Michigan, and definitely not now that he was in Jersey. Typically, you would drop anything if it meant getting to visit your best friend.

“We sort of got into an argument before I left last time,” You explained, trying to push through the unnerving tension in your stomach.

“About what?”

Recalling the events of that morning, you let out a frustrated sigh. It was over the stupidest thing, and it got completely blown out of proportion. Truthfully, the arguing isn’t what had upset you. It was what Luke had said right before you left his apartment that truly bothered you.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” You yelled, throwing Luke a harsh glare as you gathered your stuff, “He gave me his number, so what?!”

“Why would you even want to go out with a barista,” He spit the word out as if it burned his tongue, “That’s so-”

“Oh my god, Luke! It doesn’t matter where he works. Stop being such a self-righteous asshole. Just because you’re a big shot hockey player, doesn’t make everyone else inferior to you.”

You were seething at this point, frustrated tears steadily rolling down your cheeks as you shoved all of your things into your bag. Truly, you wanted nothing more than to just drop the entire ordeal, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. In order to drop it, Luke would have to realize that he was wrong and apologize. Judging by the rage in his eyes and his rigid body, that wasn’t going to happen before you had to take leave to go back home.

“My ride is here, so I’ll just text you when my plane lands,” You dismissed, wiping at your cheeks as you grabbed your bags.

“Don’t bother.”

Your head snapped in his direction, and all you were met with was a blank expression on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He raised his eyebrow as if he was baiting you, seeing if you were going to hit back at him. Instead, you shook your head as you let out a mangled scoff, walking out of his apartment and letting the door slam shut behind you.

“Something stupid. Doesn’t matter, but I don’t think me coming would be a good idea. I’m sorry, J,” You felt tears prick at your eyes as you denied his proposal. You wanted to see Luke more than anything, but he hadn’t even tried to text or call you since you left. He hadn't even liked the instagram picture you posted last week.

“Please,” He whined, “If you’re in some dumb fight, that’s all the more reason for you to come. So you can work it out.”

Jack went on for nearly fifteen more minutes, listing off all of the reasons it was a good idea for you to come. He told you that if Luke was an ass to you, then he would handle it and get you an early flight back home if that’s what you wanted. It wasn’t until you heard his voice in the background of the phone call, asking Jack who he was talking to, when you really contemplated it. You could tell Jack had pulled his phone away from his ear by the way the voices were muffled, but what he had said when he returned made you say yes.

The plan was as follows:

You board your flight at roughly 1:49 pm on Friday

Text Jack when you’re about to land and he’ll send a car for you since he had practice.

You go up to his apartment and wait for their arrival.

Most importantly, don’t tell Luke.

It seemed simple and easy, but your heart was racing a mile a minute as you walked through their apartment door and thought of all the bad things that could happen. Discarding your bag far enough away from the door that it would go unnoticed, you glanced around the living room to see that absolutely nothing had changed. Video game controllers were strewn across the coffee table, various blankets tossed haphazardly across the arms of the couch, and laundry baskets of unfolded laundry tucked in the corner. You couldn’t help but admire the random photos they had on their wall, most of them courtesy of Ellen or yourself, and on their tables. However, you paused in your steps as you heard the keypad beeping from the other side.

“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Luke grumbled, tossing Jack a glare he’s gotten used to over the last two weeks.

“What? I can’t smile at my baby brother,” Jack teased, ignoring his brothers bad attitude since he knew what, or who, was on the other side of the door.

“No. Not like that,” Luke pushed through the door.

You were holding your breath as you waited for him to notice you standing in the middle of his living room. Nerves crawled across your skin, lighting it on fire as you became fearful that you had made a mistake by coming. Fearful that he was still mad at you and would tell you to go back home. Fearful that he would take one look and completely ignore you.

His eyes finally landed on you, and it was as if the entire world stopped spinning. He stumbled over his own feet, eyes widening and raking over your entire body as if he was trying to figure out if you were real or not. You let out the breath you had been holding when you watched him throw his bag on the ground and take the two strides needed towards you. He slightly bent over, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him so close that you’re certain he was trying to merge you into one person.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in yours. His damp hair stuck to your exposed skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you let yourself completely fall into the feeling of him. You could feel all of the tension you had been holding from your argument dissipate the longer he held you close.

“I missed you so much,” He whispered against you, his warm breath slightly tickling your neck.

“I missed you, too,” You murmured, feeling your chest strain as you struggled to breathe, “But you gotta let me go. I can’t breathe.”

He reluctantly let you go, and the tears that lined his eyes and his utterly defeated look made your heart break. You had to force yourself to break the contact, if only briefly, to make your way to Jack. He wrapped you up in his arms, but the feeling that it elicited was nowhere near the same when it was his brother. There were no butterflies filling your stomachs or sparks flying when he touched you. He whispered a quiet ‘thank you for coming’ before letting you go and retreating to his room.

“C’mon,” You called out as you grabbed his duffel bag, “Let’s go lay down.”

Luke took your free hand and let you pull him to his room. He cringed when you pushed the door open and realized that it was an absolute mess. He hadn't had the energy to clean it up recently, and the look on your face told him that you wanted to say something about it, but you didn’t. Instead, you placed his bag on the floor in front of his dresser, curtly nodding when Luke told you that he had at least cleaned his sheets a few days ago.

He watches as you kick your shoes off and settle into the middle of his bed, your brow raised as he stays put in the doorway. Regaining his composure, he rid himself of his own shoes and shrugged his jacket off before slipping into the spot next to you. He was hesitant to reach out and pull you over to him like he’d always done, but you simply tugged him down so his head was on your chest. He draped his arm around your waist and held you tightly, matching your breathing.

Your fingers carded through his damp, messy hair as silence enveloped the two of you. Neither of you said anything in fear of ruining the moment, but you both knew something needed to be said. It needed to be fixed instead of pretending like nothing happened.

“We haven’t talked in a while,” He started, trying to focus on the way you felt against him instead of the awkwardness that now hung in the air.

You let out a quiet hum as you reminded him, “You’re the one who told me not to text you.”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” His voice cracked as he clung to you, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have never done any of that. I regretted all of it as soon as I said it. I hated not talking to you. It was the worst three weeks of my life.”

You dropped your eyes down to his face and saw a stream of tears flowing down his cheeks and onto your shirt. It was easy to ignore the growing wet spot in your shirt, but the aching in your chest wasn’t as easy to shrug off. Seeing Luke cry made you feel like someone was ripping your heart out. Tears of your own spilled down your cheeks as you shifted so that you were able to comfort him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You whispered, gently wiping away at his cheeks with your free hand, “It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry, too. We both said things we didn’t mean, but it’s okay. We’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded against your chest, breathing shallow and uneven as he tried to get himself to stop crying. He felt pathetic and weak as he let his emotions get the best of him, but he at least felt safe and comfortable enough with you to not really care. He knows you would never judge him.

“I really did miss you. So much,” Luke sniffled, nudging his head against you.

“I missed you too, Luke. I missed you a lot,” You breathed out, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against his headboard.

“Not the same,” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it.

“What do you mean,” You pulled your brows together, opening your eyes to glance at the boy on your chest.

“Nothing, never mind,” He mumbled as he shook his head.

Not wanting to press the situation any further, you lightly hummed and leaned your head back once again. You lightly scratched at his scalp as your fingers threaded in his hair, his breathing steadying down to a slower, relaxed pace. His fingers were digging into your hip as if he was afraid you were going to leave again, and it made your chest burn.

Intimate moments like this weren’t uncommon in your friendship with Luke, but they still clouded your thoughts nonetheless. He has always been extremely physical with you the entire time you’ve known him; a part of his body touching you no matter what was going on. His arm would be thrown over your shoulders, his hand on your lower back, his legs thrown over your lap, or one of you would be laying on the others chest as you watched tv. While you know Luke didn’t mean anything by his constant affection, that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading throughout your chest and to your stomach every time.

No matter how hard you had tried to push your feelings for Luke away, they would pop back up like they never left the second you saw him again. You had to constantly remind yourself that that's just how Luke was. He was probably a touchy guy with everyone he cared about in his life, and you shouldn’t read too much into it unless you wanted to get hurt.

“Saw that you scored a couple goals the other night,” Your voice cut through the silence, making Luke’s eyes snap to your own, “You played pretty good, I guess.”

“You watched the game,” He asked incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Of course I did, Luke. I watch every single one,” You lightly chuckle at the way his eyes were blown with surprise.

“But you- you always ask me how they were like you don’t ever watch them,” He lowly spoke, eyebrows knitting together in slight confusion. You could hear a slight hint of hurt when he mentioned you not watching his games, and that sent a pang of guilt to your chest.

“I know,” You bashfully spoke, cheeks tinging pink as you continued, “I do that because I like hearing you talk about them. You just get so excited and passionate, and I don’t know. I guess I just like listening to your perspective over anything else.”

The air around the two of you shifted as Luke’s eyes dragged from your eyes and down to your lips, and back up again. Your heart raced and your stomach twisted itself into knots as you waited to see what he would say, or do.

He rasped your name, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded a bit too quickly and eagerly than you would have liked, but the second you did, Luke was crashing his lips with your own. Your eyes flutter closed as you let yourself fall entirely into the moment in front of you, thoughts composing entirely of the way his lips felt on your own. You’d imagined this time and time again, but there was absolutely nothing that could have prepared you for the real deal. He was hovering over you, one of his arms supporting his weight while the other wound around your back to pull you into his chest, and you were falling into a blissful dizzying haze.

Luke pulled away, a small whine escaping your lips at the loss of warmth, but he simply pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his thighs, blood pounding in your ears and lip pulled between your teeth as you met his piercing gaze. His hands hesitantly dragged up your thighs, the skin underneath your leggings begging for his touch. Using his shoulders to keep your balance, you slowly leaned forwards, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

Your mouth finally meets his again, your dominant hand moving up his neck and to the back of his head to tangle in his mess of damp curls. A gentle tug to his hair allows you to slip your tongue in his mouth, a breathless whimper vibrating on your lips as his hands cups your thighs and moves you against him. He groans as your press yourself onto him, but you spring off of him when you hear the door opening.

“Are you guys hungr-,” Jacks voice cut off into a scream as he hastily slammed the door shut, “I’m going to go to that one place down the road to eat, you two carry on! I’m ready to be an uncle!”

You met Luke’s horrified stare, raising your eyebrows before the two of you fell into a fit of laughter. He threw his head back on to his pillow, his hands gently pulling you forward so that you fell against his chest. Your breathing is heavy as you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, fingers ghosting over the bare skin on his arm.

“I swear he has a sixth sense for ruining my moments,” He breathed out, glancing down at you as your face twisted in confusion, “I’ve wanted to kiss you before, but Jack always seemed to walk in just before I could actually do it. At least this time he waited.”

“Should’ve just done it,” You teased, lightly pinching at his skin.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you even felt the same way,” He admitted, shrugging before he continued, “I convinced myself there was no way you liked me back, especially after I got jealous because that barista gave you his number. The way I acted- I thought you were gone for good.”

His voice was thick with emotion and his eyes were screwed shut, and you knew that was his way to keep himself from letting his tears fall again. Your hand slipped up to cradle his jaw in your hand, “I will always be here, Luke. For the record, if it’s not obvious, I do like you back.”

His hand slips underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across the skins of your back as the two of you let the comfortable silence envelope you. The sound of the door shutting tore through the stillness in his room, letting the two of you know that Jack did indeed leave to get food.

“You know,” You peered up at him, placing a small, barely there kiss underneath his jaw, “He’s gone now…”

first time writing for lukey so hopefully it isn’t too bad!! let me know what you think ◡̈

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #NJD #jack hughes

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