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cheesecakethots · 8 months

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Part 2 to this.

He had never been so caring for another, the guard noted. Lord Scaramouche was not the caring type, after all.

Despite that, the man had watched the lord express actual worry for you, the one huddled away in his tent as he barked orders at soldiers to find medicine, make warm soup, and heat up water. One of them had had his fingers broken for making the food too cold for the harbingers liking.

On the very few occasions the guard was permitted inside the tent, he had caught glimpses of the lord knelt beside your feverish figure in bed, the back of his hand softly resting on your forehead. If they had been any longer in finding you…

The few medics in camp were situated nearby, with any and all injuries not held by you being mostly ignored for the time being. You had barely been conscious for the past few days, slipping in and out, with some mumbled and confusing phrases leaving chapped lips.

The guard is brought out of his memories when Lord Scaramouche passes him, dramatically parting the tent covering and entering with a few quick strides. He immediately makes a beeline for your cold, limp body tucked away in bed.

Scaramouche places a hand to your cheek. His frown deepens, and you groan, glazed over eyes opening only a fraction.

“M…Mother?”

A sigh escapes him. His soulmate really is pitiful… and weak.

“… You’re safe now,” he mutters, surprised for a moment at the tinge of emotion in his own voice.

“Do… I have to help c…cook dinner?”

“No. You’ll never be doing that again.”

“Oh… okay…” A yawn leaves your throat.

“Go to sleep.”

“Can we have… chocolate later? I bought some… to share,” you murmur, trailing off until your breathing becomes light, and your eyes fully close.

The lord sighs. A shiver wracks through your body, despite the multiple animal hides you have on. He’s certain that his men have destroyed the surrounding ecosystem just to keep you warm, but, oh well.

He stands, hesitantly turning away from you. You need more blankets, maybe some more soup, anything to keep the fever from taking you away from-

Oh. His eyes widen, and he glances back to you, and then at the shaking hand pulling on his fingers.

“Don’t… leave me…”

You’re still asleep. It’s not as though you’re conscious and would know if he left, is it? It’s not as though your plea is anything more than some deluded fairytale in your mind, is it?

“I won’t.”

Curses.

Curse him, and curse you for awakening something he didn’t think he had, something in his chest that for centuries he was sure was simply an empty void of nothing.

He wants to scoff and leave you here, to tell you that he has no need for someone as weak as you in his life. He wishes he had left you tied to that tree and just kept moving, that he had never felt the touch of your skin against his own. That he had felt absolutely nothing, that he hadn’t felt a stab of fear for the first time in a long time when carrying your freezing cold body back to camp. It would’ve saved him a lot of trouble.

He doesn’t let go of your hand for a long, long while.

The next morning he leaves you alone for a short time, an hour at most. He regrets it when he comes back to you standing on two wobbly knees, the parts that make him up jolting at the sight.

“What are you doing?!”

You flinch, yelping when you abruptly turn to him and lose your balance. Hands, ones that send a feeling of static and electricity straight to your very core, are soon grasping onto you, holding you up before you can hit the ground.

“Are you daft?” The man spits out, visibly aggravated.

“Wh-What? What?”

“Get back in bed. I won’t ask you again.”

You don’t move, the sensation that comes with his touch only growing the longer the two of you stand.

“You’re… you’re…?” You whisper, eyes widening.

He pauses, the irritation in his expression dropping a little. After a beat, his lips part.

“… Yes.”

“We were in the woods, right? My village, they…”

Any softness on his face is wiped away the moment you mention your old home, and the people that resided in it. No longer waiting, he lightly pushes you back, leading you into the makeshift bed below. A blanket is soon wrapped around your quivering shoulders.

“Eat this,” he orders, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it close to your lips.

Chocolate.

“I’m not-“

“Eat.”

You tentatively take it from him, and the atmosphere grows awkward, at least for you, while he watches you chew on the rest of it.

“Thank you, it was delicious,” you tell him, truthfully. You haven’t had chocolate in a long time, as it was simply too expensive for your family to afford. Your mouth curves downwards into a frown.

“Rest.”

You don’t. You’re not sure if you can.

“My family, they let them take me. They didn’t… they didn’t stop them. They must…” A gasp is torn from you, and you meet his eyes once more. “How long has it been?”

“… Three days.”

You begin rise to your shaky feet, “I-I must go back, they’ll think that I’m-!”

He pushes you back down effortlessly.

“Are you a fucking fool?”

You can’t help but flinch at the absolute venom in his tone, but he isn’t done yet, towering over you.

“What do you think will happen if you go back, hm? That they’ll accept you with open arms, or they’ll send you right back to where I found you? Or, better yet, maybe they’ll set you alight there and then, rather than troubling themselves in having you freeze to death, they’ll instead watch you burn. Would you like to test if your family would spare you from that? Hm?”

You have never felt this small in your entire life.

“I-“

“Enough.” It appears the question was rhetorical, and your mouth closes, quickly feeling very dry.

His chest shudders with each deep breath he draws in, and he closes his eyes shut for a moment, seemingly trying to calm himself.

“Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us. Don’t ask me anymore stupid questions,” he turns on his heel, most likely deciding that he has something better to do. However, before he fully departs, he pauses at the entrance to the tent, still not looking back at you.

“You deserve better than that village, than that family who threw you out as though you were nothing to them. Know that I do not plan on doing the same, and that you… aren’t nothing to me.”

The intimidation you feel from him dimishes when you catch sight of the pinkish tinge to the tips of his ears. He doesn’t wait for your response, swiftly departing. You miss the few words of parting he gives you, as you tuck yourself into bed.

“Besides, it’s not as though you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

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senditcolton · 2 years

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It’s Just A Question

summary: when a party brings back memories of your past with Jack, it leaves you wondering if there are answers to the questions left lingering between the two of you.

songs: X X word count: 2k warnings: alcohol & apprehension

Your head was spinning.

Not from the drinks you had consumed. Not from twirling around on the makeshift dance floor with Nico. Not from any of that.

No, it was spinning from the fact that every time you hazard a glance over at Jack, you already found his eyes trained to you. And you felt his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking.

It was Halloween. It was the annual New Jersey Devils Halloween party. You were supposed to be having fun. And you wanted to say you were. You danced with Nico, you laughed with Gravy, you even managed to convince Dougie to take a quick lap around his cul-de-sac for trick-or-treating, coming back with a purse full of fun sized candy. But still, Jack’s eyes never left you and after hours… it grew to be too much.

Without saying a word, you slip away from the crowd, silently grabbing your purse from its spot on the table in the foyer before pushing open the door and walking into the chilled October – well, technically November – air.

There was a reason why you couldn’t handle staying a second longer. It was the same reason you were even hesitant about attending in the first place. And that reason wasn’t just Jack Hughes or the Halloween party. It was the combination of the two that killed you. Because being there felt like déjà vu.

Last year. Devil’s Halloween party. Jack’s eyes following you almost the entire night. A few drinks. A dance. A kiss. Your friend’s laughter turning to cheers as the two of you continued to kiss, the rest of the world becoming inconsequential.

And how it ended as swiftly as it began.

You pull your phone from the lining of your bag to order an Uber but sigh in dismay as the screen stays black, the battery drained long ago. You debate going back inside and finding a charger, hiding in a bedroom until your cell had enough juice or pulling Miles away to drive you home since he was your ride here. The choices bounce around in your head until a familiar voice calls out to you.

You spin to find Jack standing in the porchlight, eyes on you once again.

“Hey,” he says, the first words he’s spoken to you all night. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just going to head home,” you explain briefly.

“Oh,” he replies and you try to ignore the little drop in his tone. “Do you need a ride?”

You sigh, weighing your options once more. You did need a ride. But did you need it that badly that you would be willing to suffer through the time it took for Jack to drive you home, the silence heavy with unsaid words.

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say, admitting that his offer was the quickest way to get you home. “If you don’t mind,” you tack on, giving him an opportunity to back out of this. Just in case he realized how fucking awkward it would be and decided to spare the both of you.

No such luck.

“Not a problem. Let me just run and grab my keys,” Jack replies before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the house.

Another deep breath escapes your lungs as you stare at the empty space he used to occupy before spinning back and wandering down the sidewalk, coming to rest against the side of Jack’s car. It isn’t long before Jack is bounding down the path towards you and unlocking door, allowing you to slip into the all too familiar passenger seat.

“You remembered,” Jack muses as he slips into the car, staring the engine, the headlights piercing through the dark night.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just remembered which car is mine,” he fumbles, concentrating a little too intently on pulling out of the makeshift parallel parking outside Nico’s house.

“And?” you ask again, not entirely sure why it was such a big deal for him.

“It’s just been a while.”

“I still hang out with the team enough to know which car is yours, Jacky,” you reply, then cringe when the old nickname falls out of your mouth without warning. Jack is graceful enough to not mention it. Instead, he just shoots a glance back in your direction as he pulls out of the neighborhood, driving down the New Jersey streets on the way back to your apartment.

The drive is quiet, exactly like you expected it to be. And, exactly like you expected, the silence was not a reprieve. Instead, it was suffocating; your efforts to keep your gaze on the passing scenery, the obvious heighted tension in the confined space, Jack’s refusal to not let his eyes land on your frame in the passenger seat every few seconds.

“Eyes on the road,” you mutter under your breath when you catch him looking at you again when stopped at a red light. A sharp exhale of laughter is the only reply you get from Jack as he turns his head back to the street in front of him. It’s quiet until he speaks again.

“Hard to help it when you look as beautiful as you do.”

You hate the way your skin heats up at his words, the compliment laced with more than just friendly praise. Your chest rises in another deep breath as you try to steady your heartbeat. It works for a split second until you feel Jack’s fingers all but innocently caress the side of your thigh.

You know that you could easily jostle your leg, throwing his hand off and that would be the end of it. But as much as you knew how it was going to end if you let it continue, you didn’t care. You missed him enough to let his hand continue to slide across your skin before it settles, his palm setting a fire against your skin and deep within you.

And in the few short remaining minutes, you feel his gaze land on you less than before.

Jack pulls up outside your apartment and you start to hop out before you hear Jack kill the engine, the sound of the driver’s side door closely shortly behind it. You look back at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Let me walk you into your apartment. Just to be safe,” he says and you swear you hear an edge of desperation underneath the suave bravado. Regardless, you give a shrug of your shoulders in some kind of acceptance and let Jack follow you as you unlock your buildings front door.

You feel his presence behind you as you check your small mailbox and even still as you climbed up the carpeted stairs to your third-floor studio apartment. He’s right there as you punch in your keycode and swing open your apartment door. You leave the door ajar, a silent invitation for him to come in, one which he silently accepts before closing the door behind the two of you.

And just like that, it’s as if you two go through the regular motions, as if arriving home together was commonplace. As if being with him was meant to be.

You kick off your shoes by the front door and wander over to your small vanity before removing your rings and placing them in the little trinket dish. In the mirror, you watch as Jack takes off his coat, draping it gently over arm of your couch before walking over to you.

His hands gently bat yours away from the nape of your neck, his fingers deftly unclasping your necklace, arms dropping to set it down on the wood of the vanity. A hand comes to rest delicately on your waist and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you as your feel his lips press gently against the skin of your shoulder.

You spin in his arms, the tension finally becoming too much. Your hands desperately reach towards his face, grasping at the back of his neck and tangling into his slicked back hair before you are pulling his lips onto your cherry red ones.

Jack gives into the kiss easily, pulling you tighter as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for access which you gladly accept, deepening the kiss. He blindly pulls you away from the vanity, walking you across the wooden floors before you feel your mattress hit the back of your legs. You collapse back onto the bed willingly, pulling Jack down with you, the feeling of his body weight on top of you still comforting after all this time.

Jack breaks away from your lips only to trail across your jawline, down to the column of your throat where he lingers for a moment. You relax back into the sheets, the sensation all too familiar and it is easy to get lost in the feeling of him.

But the past finally rears its ugly head, pushing into your brain and taking you out of the moment. You heave a sigh before placing your hands on Jack’s shoulders, pushing him off you and lifting yourself up into a sitting position. Jack takes a step or two back and the two of you stare at each other for a brief moment before you break the silence.

“What the fuck are we doing?”

Jack doesn’t have an answer. Neither do you. So, the question lingers there between you, a phantom haunting whatever history you two shared.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you continue with a sigh.

“I know,” Jack whispers, although in the silence of your apartment, it feels as loud as a gunshot.

“Then why do we keep finding ourselves here?” you ask.

“I don’t know.”

Another pause, the space between the two of you growing further, in all ways but physical.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Jack speaks, breaking the silence again. “What is so wrong about this?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you reply, drawing out the words in hesitation, “it’s wrong because we know how it’s going to end.”

“And you don’t want it to end,” Jack posits.

“I don’t know if there’s any way to stop it from ending. We’ve tried it before and it’s always lead us here.” You sigh again, picking at your fingernails in anxiety.

“Is there anything I can do to prove that it will be different this time? Hypothetically, of course,” Jack asks again and you can’t stop the chuckle that falls from you at his addendum.

“Perhaps,” you muse, connecting your eyes with his. “If you can answer this question.”

Jack nods and you hate the way your heart leaps at the pure desperation in his eyes, a desire not just for your body but for your trust. The way it was obvious that he wanted to make it up to you.

“When you left the apartment of the girl that you kissed in the middle of a crowded Halloween party dancefloor in front of your friends,” you say, letting the use of these hypotheticals distance yourself from the actuality, “did you regret it? Do you regret not fighting for her?”

You let the question hang there, watch as Jack processes it, watch as he flicks through the memories of that night when you two came crashing down.

It’s a drawn-out moment before Jack looks at you, taking a deep breath before walking back over to you, standing between your legs, his hand cupping your jaw, guiding your face to look up at him.

“I’ve regretted it ever since I closed the door of her third-floor studio walkup that day,” he whispers down to you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. He leans in close to you, ready to capture your lips in his once more. But you stop him again.

“Is it also true that you’ve been seeing someone else?”

“It’s true. A few dates, nothing official. I’ve heard the same about you.” You nod your head gently in concession. “Would it change anything if I said every time I was with her, I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“It might. Considering I felt the same way whenever I was with him. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course,” Jack chuckles and you can’t stop the small giggle that escapes you as well before Jack finally swallows your laughter by placing his lips on yours, the hypotheticals melting away into the truth.

Whatever hardships you two had and my have, this was meant to be. You would always find your way back to each other.

#nicole writes #midnights mashups #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes angst #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #not sure how i feel about this one #kind of love it kind of hate it #but i'm still getting over a cold so my head spins if i think too long about it #so here it is

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