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angelwithdemonictendencies · 11 months

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is it possible that just yesterday your name was not the shape of all my exhales; how could a room without you not be empty?

jh86 x reader: it’s a billet house situation.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it’s honestly not even thaaaaaat bad), masturbation, oral sex (f on m), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), praise, way too much whimpering, more tension than actual smut (you guys know how i operate), yes the tooth is addressed, idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites! thank you endlessly for your patience! here we are, with another story about the (newly) toothless wonder that makes him out to be a stuttering, blushing, whimpering mess. as is typical for my jh86 stories, you have all the power (as you do in real life). and, since i always get a little influx of hate whenever i post for jh86, please remember that whenever anyone shares a bit of writing with you, they are putting a part of themselves entirely at your mercy, so act accordingly (i.e. with kindness). i truly appreciate your encouragement and messages and love so genuinely, you have no idea. if some of the details seem a little threadbare here, please don’t look too closely - i know the premise is a bit far-fetched. regardless, the next time i emerge from my cave of teeth, i will bring an offering of either mt19 (welcome, newbie) or am34 (hi, angel), depending on for whom the muses give me more inspiration. anyways, sending so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks even now. see you soon.

you knew your parents had becomes a billet family while you were away at school, although you really didn’t know what that meant. to you, their new arrangement, their good deed, their latest endeavor now that they were empty-nesters, didn’t really involve you or your break.

a young hockey player was staying with them so he didn’t have to live on his own, they had explained. yeah, sure, you had responded, expecting a twelve-year-old prodigy to be living in your house when you arrived home for your extended break. you could be nice to a kid for a while and make an extra portion during lunch. you barely gave it a second thought.

however, when you lugged your suitcases through the door on that first day, there was no twelve-year old prodigy to be found. instead, when you set your bags down with a huff, you looked up to find a twenty-something staring at you from the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hand.

he stood there, frozen, almost theatrically still, his eyes holding yours for several seconds as you swiped a loose lock of hair from your face. you straightened up, stretching your back to its full extension, before raising a brow at his odd reaction, or lack thereof.

“uh, hello?” you said, a slight smile gracing one side of your mouth.

he seemed to lose his grip on his bowl at the sound of your voice, dropping it only slightly before fumbling to grasp it again, the spoon making a clattering noise.

“y-yeah, hi,” he said. you felt your smile grow as he flushed a delicate shade of pink. he cleared his throat before speaking again. “they mentioned you’d be coming home.”

you took in his face. his long, soft-looking hair that framed his heart shaped face, his pouty, full lips, the gentle slope of his nose, the surprisingly sharp angle of his jaw.

he was the definition of pretty. and, if you could tell anything from this one interaction, he was pretty and nervous, your favorite combination. fun.

you cocked your head to the side, looked at him, still down the hall, noticed his grip, comically firm around his bowl so as not to drop it again. “so, roomie, do you take the right or left side of the bed?”

your smile only intensified as you watched his brow furrow, his mouth stumble over his words, panic flood his eyes. you let him trip over himself for only a second longer, not wanting to be cruel. too cruel, at least.

finally, you waved him off playfully. “i’m kidding. my room’s down the hall from the guest room, if you need anything.” his little nervous laugh made your chest sing, a bit. “what’s your name?” you asked as you took hold of your bags, began to haul them up the stairs.

“right,” he said, voice shaking only slightly. “it’s jack. my name’s jack.”

you grinned, the action making its way into your voice as you tested out the name on your tongue. you noticed his flush grow deeper, more personal, saw something shine across his gaze at his name in your tone, promising in a lovely kind of way.

you told him your name when he asked, gave him a final lazy once-over. “your spoon’s upside-down, jack,” you called through a clenched grin, bit your lip when you heard him mutter something and the tell-tale sound of a spoon against a bowl.

quickly, you realized that your break had just gotten significantly more interesting.

the one downside, though, came when your parents told you that you would be sharing your car with the newest member of the house.

it wouldn’t be too bad, they said, as he would be practicing or playing for most of the day at the rink just a couple streets down, and if you needed the car, you could always drop him off.

sure, fine, you thought, you could share. you could try not to make him too nervous, even if it was fun. of course, you could play nice.

so, this was you, playing nice, driving him to practice the next day.

after he had settled into the passenger seat, you put your hand on the back of his headrest and turned your body so that you could reverse the car out of the driveway.

his gaze slid to your neck briefly before he flushed, only just.

“so,” you began as you pulled away from your house, facing forward again, “are you any good?”

“what?” he asked, suddenly more bashful, looking down, fidgeting like he didn’t know where to put his hands.

you smiled, kept your eyes on the road. “at hockey, jack. are you any good at hockey?”

he shook his head, let out a light laugh, the melody of which made you scrunch up your nose slightly. he brought a hand to absentmindedly scratch the back of his neck. to your surprise, his mouth actually ticked up into a soft smirk, an expression that was completely new to you.

“yeah, i’m pretty good at hockey, i think,” he replied, his voice probably as stable and confident as you had ever heard it.

you nodded. “huh,” you said, “i wouldn’t have guessed it.”

he turned to face you, looking confused, even a little hurt, his gaze suddenly shimmery with something. “what? why?”

you felt a smirk creep onto your own face as you pulled into the parking lot of the rink. “oh, i don’t know,” you replied with a shrug. “you’re a little too pretty, i guess,” you finished as you put the car in park, turning to him now that you were stopped. “but you must be used to people saying that.”

he scratched his neck again, eyes anywhere but yours. “y-yeah,” he finally mustered. “used to it, yeah.” he fumbled for the door handle, finally opened it. “you’ll, uh, you’ll pick me up at 3?”

you couldn’t help but bite your lip at his reaction. “you told me a teammate was driving you home.”

“yup, i did,” he said, slowly, as if running the words over in his head, nodding as he grabbed his things, hiding his pink face from you. “i did say that. so i’ll see you at home then.”

“see you at home, jack,” you finished as he shut the door, watched him mumble something to himself and shake his head as you drove away.

what a fun addition to your break, you thought, typically so filled with work and school preparation. what a meaningless and harmless distraction from the work you needed to do.

so, when you got home, you spent a large chunk of time chipping away at that work. when you finished, though, you thought you’d take advantage of the sunshine and lay out for a bit, maybe get some color.

you couldn’t have been outside, reading in your bikini, for more than twenty minutes when a car pulled into your driveway.

you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head to see jack climbing out of the passenger seat, talking to the driver, presumably one of his teammates, before the driver turned his head to look at you. his mouth ticked up in an arrogant smirk as his gaze rolled down your body.

you could have rolled your eyes. “hey, handsome,” you said instead, pushing yourself up and onto your side.

jack stilled for a second before continuing to take his bags out of the trunk.

“hi, beautiful,” his teammate said. “don’t tell me hughesy’s been keeping you a secret, hm?”

you laughed, false and sugary like a diet soda, tilted your head back so your hair would fall to expose your collarbones.

“hughesy couldn’t keep me anywhere if he tried,” you responded, watching jack’s face pale. you smiled at him as he approached. “jack, did you tell your teammate he’s welcome to stay for dinner?”

jack looked at you, searched your eyes for a moment. there was something steely in his. something you liked, something that sparked some heat between you.

his teammate laughed like he knew something you didn’t, breaking the tension. “another time, beautiful,” he called from the driver’s seat, beginning to pull away.

you gave him a pout. “i’ll hold you to it,” you flirted, only turning to jack once the car was completely gone. “jack, before you go in, could you put some sunscreen on my back?”

he fixed you with a look, uncharacteristically serious. his gaze hovered on your chest for a second before meeting your eyes again. he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, gave a slight shake of his head. “i’m not doing that.”

you furrowed your brow. “why not? no one else is home.”

“too bad,” he said, continuing inside.

you rolled your eyes at him, but began to fold up your towel. “fine. if i make dinner, will you tell me about practice?”

there was a pause.

“yeah, sure,” came the response, almost uncertain in tone, like he thought this must be some kind of trick. like no one had asked him that before, as if no one had ever wanted to know.

and as much as you enjoyed playing with him, you actually wanted to get to know him, too.

so, that night, and each night following, this became part of the routine. you’d make an extra portion for dinner, and as you sat together and ate, you’d ask questions about his practice, his day, which would lead to answers to unspoken questions about his life, his person.

“why hockey?” you might ask, to which he would rattle off some media trained answer, to which you would raise your brow in doubt. only then would he give you some real answer about falling in love with the feeling of it, about feeling closer to his family because of it, eventually hinting to an insecurity that he didn’t know how to do anything else.

and he might ask about school, to which you would say what you were studying, to which he would shoot you a doubtful look. only then would you give some real answer about wanting to do something tangible, something that no one could say was pointless, eventually hinting at an insecurity that your work might eventually mean nothing.

harmless, you thought, meaningless. that’s what this was. fun.

meaningless, how eventually you wouldn’t have to tell him you were heading to the car, how you would just know he would be there in the mornings to go to practice. meaningless, how after dinner, he would wash the dishes and you would dry them. meaningless, how each day he would reveal a bit more of himself to you, and you would grant him the same privilege.

until you knew him like he was one of your best friends, and he knew you as good as anyone.

the more you learned about him, and the more you shared, the less meaningless it felt, the more comfortable it all felt.

sometimes it even felt like jack was most comfortable when you were explicitly trying to make him uncomfortable.

you expected the blush, the stammering, you found a type of peace in it, just as he found peace in your innuendos, your comments, your shameless flirting, even if he thought you were only joking, only playing around.

even if he thought you couldn’t possibly want him so explicitly, so clearly. when had anything ever been so straightforward?

so he decided you were toying with him, however disheartening the idea was.

each day, it seemed, a different teammate would drive him home, and more often than not, you would be tanning in the yard.

and his usual blushing, stuttering reaction slowly melted and hardened into a gaze full of desire, poorly veiled.

his ever-present flush was still there, of course, but your focus had shifted to the way his chest would rise and fall, the way his eyes would linger on the elegant slope of your shoulders, settle in the pockets of your collarbones, drip down your legs, so reluctant to glide back up to your eyes again.

and you would ask him to put sunscreen on your back, and he would say no, each time looking more and more confused as to why he was refusing.

the first time his mask of nonchalance truly broke came only a couple weeks in, the day when the teammate who had driven him home on that first day eventually drove him home again.

and there you where, in practically the same place, same state as that first day. with maybe the slightest bit more of a motivation to bring jack to a stumbling, stuttering mess.

you were about to open your mouth, say something like hi, again, handsome, but you didn’t even get the chance to.

as soon as jack got out of the car, he made eye contact with you. there was electricity there, a spark you felt in your bones. “hi, baby,” he said, his voice so sweet and doting your stomach actually dropped at how genuine he sounded. but he couldn’t mean it, right? what was he playing at?

so you shot him a look, scrunched up your nose, to which he sent you a warning glance. you rolled your eyes, caught the smirk his teammate sent his way.

“need some help with your sunscreen?” jack offered as he walked up to you, making you pause. you took your sunglasses off of your head and set them down.

you met his gaze again, tried to figure out his angle. when you couldn’t, you simply stood up, handed him the bottle, gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and faced away from him. “is your friend staying for dinner?” you asked, more so to the driver than to jack.

the man in the car shook his head. “sorry, beautiful. i wouldn’t want to intrude on date night.”

and suddenly jack’s hands were on you, as close as he had ever been, the chill of the lotion along with the heat of his palms sending a shiver down your spine. despite yourself, your words came out breathy. “date night. right,” you said, trying not to focus on the callused texture of his hands as they worked your shoulders, the plane of your back, up to your neck.

you barely noticed when the car pulled away, could have moaned at how good his touch felt. even when he was done, he kept his hands on you still, one on either side of your waist. you could feel his breath on your neck, suddenly remembered who he was, the weirdness of this whole interaction.

you turned around to face him, hardened any desire into something you could use. something like a weapon. you placed both of your hands on his chest. “feeling touchy today, hm?” you asked, looking up at him, willing innocence and intrigue into your eyes.

and just like that, he was there, again, the jack that you knew. a flush crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes darted around your face as he searched for words.

“‘m sorry, baby, just didn’t want him to think-”

you cocked a brow. “didn’t want him to think what?” you prompted, ignoring the fact that he was still calling you baby, like some kind of community theatre actor unwilling to come out of a role. you weren’t acting.

he tilted his head back, looked to the sky for a moment. “it’s just that,” he looked back at you. “he’s, you know, just-”

you nodded. “what, pretty boy?” you asked, raised a hand to push a damp lock of hair from his face, watched his blush deepen with a vengeance, his eyes cloud with something darker.

he seemed to forget what he was saying completely, the combination of your words and your touch on his face like a sedative.

and you had a feeling that the words that were caught in his throat were something along the lines of he’s not me. but, you figured, if he wasn’t going to tell you that, that was on him. so, instead of kissing him, like you so wanted to, you just gave a disappointed shake of your head, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip before heading inside to shower away the sunscreen you didn’t need, had never needed.

your dinners were common ground, a momentarily truce, before you would go back to your endless quest to see that flush, and he would return to his endeavor of trying to hide it, to hide what you were doing to him, which was only getting more challenging.

little did he know, it was only getting harder for you to control yourself, too. especially when you would be in your room, with the door open, and he would walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

and you would try not to look, try not to stare at the way his hips just barely held up the towel, or how his chest gleamed in the most inviting way.

it became harder still when you realized he was talking to you.

“hm?” you asked, forcing your gaze up to his eyes.

“said i used your body wash, baby, figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. your eyes followed the motion.

“why?” you asked, brow furrowed. “yours is in there, no?”

his smile was small, bashful. you got up, slowly walked over to where he stood. “like the smell of yours more,” he admitted, looking down.

“and you’re sure it’s mine?” you placed a hand on his bare shoulder, pushed yourself up so your face was aligned with the space between his neck and collarbone, inhaled, felt a shiver start just under your touch. “nevermind,” you said, recognizing the flowery scent. “it’s mine.”

you looked up to meet his eyes, not taking your hand off of him just yet. “’s okay, then?” he asked, that beautiful blush spreading down his neck.

you hummed, slowly pulled your hand off of his shoulder. “if you like it so much,” you said with a shrug, walking back into your room, “feel free.” so you left him, breathless, standing in the hallway. you, too, had to catch your breath, though, when you shut your door behind you and looked down at your hand, seemingly scorching from resting on his bare skin for so long. you could still feel him underneath you, in an instant developing a craving to feel more of him, feel all of him.

still, you understood that you both couldn’t dance around each other forever, that at some point the spell would shatter like a china teacup on the floor. and that’s exactly what it felt like when he asked you if it was okay that the car would be back later than usual tonight as you washed and dried the dishes together. you had already agreed that he would drive himself back from his game, but, apparently, he had plans after the game, too.

“sure,” you said instinctively. “for what?”

something curious burned alight in his eyes as he said, “just seeing a friend, should be back later tonight.”

and something green burned alight in your stomach as you immediately became alert. you knew a friend. you had several a friends. “yeah?” you asked. “who?” you hated the way your voice, usually so steady and confident, took on only the slightest of creaks at the end of your question. you felt like it exposed you entirely.

he paused, searching your eyes for a moment before looking down again. “just some girl,” was his answer, almost uncertain, continuing to run a rag over a glass.

you felt that feeling bubble up inside of you, hot, blistering jealousy, but also pure anger. how could he not love this game as much as you did? how could he end it, throw the board away so easily?

but you just gave a slight nod, refusing to look at him.

unfortunately, you realized, you two had grown close enough that he knew you, truly and deeply, and of course he would be able to tell that something was off.

“what?” he asked, turning to you. “what is it?”

you shook your head. “nothing. hope you have fun.” but your voice came out short, snappy, sort of mean.

he furrowed his brow. “wait, what?” he said. “what is this?” he gestured to your general presence, to which you put down the plate in your hands and sighed, finally looking at him fully.

you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

whatever he saw in your eyes made the slightest of pouts grace his lips. he gave a nod of understanding. “oh,” he began, “you’re jealous.”

you huffed. “i am not.”

“you are. i know you are, baby.” something flashed briefly through his gaze, making his pout deepen. “what, so you’re allowed to fuck around, but i’m not? how does that work?”

fire roared inside of you as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, brought him down to your level. “fuck around? is that what you think i’m doing?” you watched him swallow, swore you could feel his heartbeat under your hand, willed pity into your eyes and shook your head. “oh, sweetheart,” you tsked, “thought you were smarter than that.”

you let yourself look at his lips one more time before letting go, turning to walk away.

“go ahead and fuck around, if you want to,” you called over your shoulder. “but i don’t think you want to.”

and you must have been right, because after the game, at the time you had originally expected, you heard the car in the driveway, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

you heard him come up the stairs, close the door behind him, settle into his room. and you left him to whatever he was doing, for a while, maybe an hour or two. until you decided you were going to take a shower.

you walked out into the hallway, a towel wrapped around you, and began to make your way to the bathroom. and you would have made it there, if you hadn’t been stopped, completely frozen, by the soft noises coming from behind jack’s bedroom door.

noises that sounded like stifled, breathy moans, like whimpers trying so desperately to be hidden.

you inched closer to the door, listened through the wood, although your suspicions were all but absolutely confirmed already.

your throat began to tighten as the noises became clearer, less controlled, and if you didn’t know better you thought they could have been mistaken for teary sobs, if not for the undeniable baseline of pleasure and desperation that threaded all the noises together.

and you knew it was normal, for a young man to touch himself, and you told yourself that you would have walked away, stalked back to your room, completely unsatisfied.

but when he clearly moaned out, “fuck, baby, like that,” the sound bursting out of him like a confession, you knew you weren’t going back to your room. not when he had called for you, had begged for you, was so obviously thinking of you.

so you opened his door, met his hooded gaze immediately, saw alarm and shame flash through his eyes, watched his hands fumble for his blankets in an attempt to cover himself up, to which you could have scoffed.

“no, no,” you cooed, approaching the side of his bed. “‘s okay, baby.” you relished in the way that beautiful blush of his blossomed like a peony in late spring, full and all-consuming, making him look so deliciously vulnerable.

his exhale was shaky, a rockslide of emotion. “baby, you weren’t s‘posed to-” he didn’t finish his thought. “i didn’t mean to-” another breath. “tried to be quiet, i swear.”

as he spoke, though, you squinted at his mouth, noticed how swollen his top lip was, finally recognized that his front tooth had chipped, seemingly right in half.

you gingerly took his jaw in one hand, tilted your head, concern lacing your voice. “does it hurt?” you asked, mesmerized by him, the physical evidence that he was alive, that he could hurt, and could still desire you so blatantly.

his eyes, before glazed over, took a moment before understanding filled them. he immediately looked down, tried to remove himself from your touch. “not anymore,” he mumbled. “know it looks bad-”

you scoffed at this, traced your thumb along his lip, felt the swell and heat travel through your body. “you think it looks bad?” he gave a bashful nod, setting your blood ablaze. “oh, jack,” you said, shaking your head, “you could never be anything but pretty.”

and he looked at you like he would endure all the pain in the world, if only so you would tell him he looked beautiful while doing so. you smiled at how he glowed under your praise, smiled into his lips as they met yours in a kiss that felt much too long overdue, and yet felt so familiar, almost nostalgic. he kissed you with a hunger that surprised you, given the tenderness of his lip, but he moaned into your mouth, so you figured he didn’t mind too terribly. you ran your tongue along his teeth, your fingertips dancing along his jawline before pulling back, only just.

after a breath, heavy with want, you sunk to your knees beside his bed, looked up at him, took one of his hands in your own. your stomach stirred at how he immediately clutched back. “let me help you, hm? i’ll make you feel so good, jack, i promise.” you tried to dull the teasing in your tone. “know you were thinking ‘bout me, before.” your voice became a rasp at the memory. “when you were touching yourself, yeah?”

he blushed, but shifted towards the edge of the bed, closer to you, his swallow rough and audible. he squeezed your hand in a silent plea. “please, can i touch you, pretty boy?” you asked. “let me suck you off, hm?”

he nodded, a whimpered “please?” escaping him as you pushed his covers aside, spat into your hand and took him into your grip, hot and hard under your touch, the result of weeks of pent up lust, fantasies he had assumed dead suddenly being jerked awake. you peered up at him, wanting to see every reaction he could give you.

as soon as you touched him he squinted his eyes shut, lost in the sensation of you, here, exactly as he had imagined you so many times. his grip on your hand tightened when you took him in your mouth, felt the weight of him, the weight of his longing, through your entire body.

“fuck, baby,” he cried, using his other hand to gather your hair in a fist, as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock before teasing the tip. “your mouth feels so good.” his voice was a shudder as you hummed around him, making him moan deeper.

he grew harder in your mouth as you hollowed out your cheeks, drew your head up and down, losing yourself in the rhythm of his breathing, tethered to this reality only by his hand on yours.

before you knew it, you could feel his thighs clench in telling as his exhales grew tight. “y-you need to stop, baby,” he whimpered, eyes glassy, “’m gonna cum if you don’t.” his voice was pleading.

you didn’t stop immediately, only looked up at him through your lashes, making him curse, his brow furrow. “please,” he begged, “don’t want to cum yet, baby, please.”

you thought for a moment, part of you wanting to feel him in your mouth for a little longer, but the part of you that wanted to know what he felt like inside of you won out in the end.

you reluctantly pulled up off of him, melted at the gratitude that mingled with the desire in his gaze. “what if i want you to cum?” you asked, rising from your knees, grinning when he pulled you on top of him.

“you first,” he said before kissing you again, bruising and potent with feeling. “need to feel you cum around me, baby.”

“yeah?” you said against his mouth. “is that what you were thinking about before i came in?”

he hummed a noise of affirmation. you bit your lip at his confession, plainly delighted at the reminder that he thought of you, that you occupied his mind the way he did yours.

you pushed his chest back, positioned yourself on top of him. “been wantin’ to fuck me, hm?”

you bit your lip again as you sunk down onto him, closed your eyes at the stretch. “so bad, baby,” he groaned, “so, so bad.” you both stayed completely still for a beat, basking in the feeling that you both had been craving for what felt like ages. you placed your hands on his stomach to ground yourself, felt his muscles clench underneath your palms as he grabbed at your hips, the warmth of his hands sending a shiver up to your neck.

“fuck,” you moaned, finally adjusted to the size of him, needing him to move, needed some release to the impossible tension inside of you. “please fuck me, jack. need you to.”

and of course he wanted nothing if not to do exactly as you asked. he bucked his hips up into you, creating an immediate rhythm as you rode him, meeting his every thrust. the rhythm was not perfect, but every slip up felt predestined, too, a reminder that you were both human. a reminder that even through imperfection, everything felt perfect solely because it was between him and you.

“you feel so perfect, baby,” he bit out. “fuck, can’t even tell you how good.”

you moaned at his words as he brought one of his hands to thumb at your clit, making you groan and clench around him, tilt your head back at the sensation.

he gave a series of especially deep, slow thrusts, making you bite back your moans, squeeze him harder.

“look so pretty, baby,” he said, breathy, barely audible, “so fucking pretty like this.”

you locked eyes with him, groaned at the look in his, completely focused on you, his flush, this time from exertion, not embarrassment. you felt yourself grow close, just there. he continued to tease your clit as you ground down on his cock.

“‘m so close, jack,” you cried out, “gonna make me cum, yeah? just like you’ve been wanting, hm?”

his thrusts grew erratic at the prospect, his breaths shallow. “please cum for me, baby,” he all but begged, “want to feel you. need to feel you cum on my cock, yeah?”

at his words, combined with every overwhelming sensation you were feeling, you felt that wave of pleasure finally crash, sweeping him up with you as he came, spurred on by you squeezing him so tightly, your nails clawing at his stomach.

you collapsed on top of him, both of his arms coming to wrap around you, holding you to his chest, where you could feel his inhales and exhales as if they were your own. a glistening sheen of sweat settled on both of you like a gloss as you laid together, such a raw and deep desire having finally been truly recognized.

you stayed quiet for a while, so utterly content to just exist in each other’s space. when the silence broke, you barely noticed.

“you really don’t mind my tooth?” he asked, his voice rough as he rubbed his thumb across your back.

you gave a drowsy smile, hummed, loved how his voice wasn’t shy, how he was growing so comfortable with you, even still. “i love it,” you said honestly. “looks hot.”

he rolled his eyes at you, flushed, to which you placed a gentle kiss on his chest, where the color started. “being serious,” you said, smiling. “besides,” you added, “i’ll love your mouth as long as you let me kiss it.”

he laughed at that, shaking his head, obviously pleased.

and how beautiful, to be the one to evoke such a reaction from him. to be the one he even cared to ask such a question to in the first place.

fin.

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toffoliravioli · 1 year

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“Hey it’s J’aCcUsE 😀😀 I’m at Sweep the Deck… 😀😀 havin’ a great time… 😀😀 for a great cause 😀😀”

#how many times y’all think it took him to film this #also this angle did him so dirty #he’s just happy to be there 😀😀#jack hughes #new jersey devils

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dirtykpopsnaps · 4 months

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Here’s the request for Jack Hughes!

#dirty kpop snaps #dirtysnaps #celebrity #celebrity smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #hockey player #hockey player smut #snapchat #smut snaps

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jhughesangel · 3 months

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Looking at the red carpet pictures of Quinn and Jack i need to know how they keep their shoes so clean

noooo literally jacks shoes were shining lol

but being rich definitely helps😭😭

#jack hughes #quinn hughes #my shoes are so dirty

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whatashameshespuckedinthehead · 1 year

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brady nunchuk, count ur days

#that was a DIRTY hit #and now jack is out week to week :(#also i have not ever said his name correctly #not once #always nunchuk #like for the wii #jack hughes #brady tkachuk #hockey

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uluvjay · 4 months

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Santa red-J. Hughes

Jack Hughes x fem! Reader

Jack gifts you an early Christmas gift and asks you to model it for him

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(a no no), teasing, pet names, dirty talk, grinding, cursing, kissing, porn with a small plot, this was supposed to be out before Christmas so I apologize😭, sorry for any errors!

Day 10 of my ficmas celebration!

The ride home from the prudential center was quiet, not a word spoken even as Jack pulled into his parking spot and exited the car.

You could see he was still tense from the game, you could hear Lindy screaming at them from the hallway where you and Jim waited for the boys to come out.

The tips of his ears were still red with anger, and you knew him well enough to know he was still pissed about being sent to the box and the added loss had fueled his anger further.

Once you entered the shared apartment he took off towards your bedroom while you went into the kitchen, You were taking a drink of water when you heard his stiff voice call out for you.

“Everything okay?” You questioned as you appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

Jack was sitting on the bed, shoes and coat off but his game day suit still hugged his body deliciously. Beside him was a Christmas bag, tissue paper coming from the top.

“Can you put this on?” He asked, extending the bag out towards you.

“What is it?” You questioned, taking the bag from his outstretched hand.

“Was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was low, not longer only filled with anger and embarrassment but something more.

“Okay.” You shrugged, setting it down on the dresser beside you as you went to strip off your devils crewneck, however a large hand on your arm stopped you.

“C-can you put it on in the bathroom? Wanna watch you walk out in it.” He blushed.

“Of course.” You smiled, picking the bag back up you made your way into the large bathroom connected to your bedroom.

Opening the bag you found a box, one that belonged to Jacks favorite lingerie store. You had bought a set for his birthday one year and since then he had been in love with the place.

Opening the box you were met with a deep red set, a tad bit darker than traditional Christmas red. Running a finger over the lace you took in how delicate it was.

You would never understand why he spent so much money on sets just for him to always end up ripping some part of it during the night.

Stripping off your clothes you slid the set onto your body, admiring yourself in mirror. Your eyes caught how well the color complimented your skin tone and the way the cups of the bra pushed your boobs up perfectly.

“Once again, you have magnificent taste.” You laughed as you stepped out of the bathroom.

Jacks head whipped in your direction as he heard your voice, a breath getting caught in his throat as his eyes locked on your body.

The set was perfect, the panties making your legs looks even more delicious, and your breasts-god your breasts, Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to control himself.

“Oh fuck me.” He mumbled, running his hands over his face.

“I mean if you want me to.” You teased the man, making your way over to stand between his legs.

“You look breathtaking.” He spoke lowly, eyes taking in your body at a closer angle.

“Thank you.” You smiled, leaning down to give him a soft peck.

The boy whined as you tried to pull away, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist to keep you trapped between his spread legs.

“Give me a real kiss.” He whispered, lips just inches from yours.

“That was a real kiss” you giggled, but Jack didn’t find any amusement in your words and he quickly showed you that by tangling one of his hands in your hair and pulling your lips to his.

It was hot and breathtaking as his tongue traced against yours before it quickly won dominance, your lips moved feverishly in sync earning him a low moan from your throat.

His hand that still rested on your waist slipped down to the back of your thigh, lifting it lightly he signaled that he wanted you to sit on his lap.

You pulled your lips away from his to take your position overtop of him but the make out hastily resumed as you pulled the beanie off his head and tangled your fingers in his damp hair.

The dark locks were still damp from his post game shower but that didn’t stop you from tugging and pulling on the locks just the way he liked.

A smirk overtook your face at the hoarse cry that broke from his throat when you grounded your core over the tent in his pants.

“Baby.” He groaned, hands coming to still your moving hips.

“What do you need Jacky?.” You teased, lips trailing all around his throat.

“You. Need to fuck you.” He groaned, head tipping back instinctively allowing you more skin to roam.

He shivered as you smirked against his skin, heat growing in his stomach as you pulled away and looked down at him.

His eyes followed you as you moved yourself off of his lap and moved your hands up to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, however Jack was a bit to impatient and moved your hands to rip it open instead.

You giggled before trailing your hands down his toned abdomen to his belt, hands working quickly to undo the buckle and pull his pants and boxers down.

And while Jack expected you to climb back on his lap he was filled with confusion as you stepped back and moved to sit against the head board.

“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me.” You smirked down at him with eyes full of lust.

Jack could feel the heat spread from his lower stomach up to his spine as you trailed a hand down to slowly rub over your clit through your lacy panties.

Shaking out of his haze jack shot up and removed his remaining clothing before his body was hovering over yours.

His large hand wrapped around yours and moved it to the side with a soft ‘tsk’ as his own hand came to push the lace to the side.

A groan left his mouth at the sight of how wet you were for him, your cunt glistening in the low light of the bedroom.

A deep cry came from you as he ran his cock through your folds, his head pushing into your entrance with ease.

His hips thrusted forward as a fast pace, the anger that had once been building up in his body now being filtered into his thrusts.

“Jack!” You cried as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulders, his length now hitting the spongy spot deep inside you.

“So good for me baby, feel so fucking good.” He groaned hoarsely.

One of his hands came down to pull the cups of your bra down, hands coming down to palm your breasts, His thumbs tweaked and pulled at your nipples earning sweet cries of pleasure from you.

“Shi-Jacky, you’re so deep.” You whimpered as you felt his tip once again nudging that spot deep within you.

Jack admired the way your body reacted to his menstruations, how your hands clenched the sheets beside you and how your head was thrown back in nothing but pure pleasure.

He could feel you clenching him tightly, and by the way your moans had subsided to drawn out whimpers and mumbles he knew you were getting close.

“Gonna come for me baby?” He questioned as one of his hands came down to rub cricles over your clit.

“Mhm” you moaned with a drunken nod.

Jack smirked at the state of you, he loved nothing more than watching you completely fucked out for him.

“Come on baby, give it to me.” He encouraged, thumb moving at the same pace as his snapping hips as he chased a high of his own.

A loud cry broke through the room as your climax overtook you, the leg that was hooked over jacks shoulder shaking while your back arched and eyes clenched shut.

“So beautiful.” He praised as he placed light kisses to your lips, swallowing your whimpers of overstimulation.

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there.” He groaned, forehead resting against yours as his thrusts began to get sloppy and deeper.

With a few more deep thrusts the air was filled with a deep groan as Jack came deep inside you, painting your warm walls white with his release.

His large body collapsed on top of yours as his head snuggled into your neck, lips leaving small kisses on the skin.

“Feel better?” You spoke quietly bringing a hand to run through his damp hair.

“Much. Thank you baby.” He smiled giving you a proper kiss before he slid out of you and went to grab a towel to clean you up.

A few minutes later you were both snuggled on the couch, the soft light of the Christmas tree filling the living room while you two let out soft giggles while watching elf.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes #jack x reader #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl blurb #jay’sficmas

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puck-luck · 6 days

Text

not-so quickie | jack hughes

warnings: morning sex, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, dirty talk, jack as a boob guy for SURE, pet names, domesticity, jack x y/n being precious partners fo'eva pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when reader and jack's morning antics leave jack rushing to get to training. wc: 1967

Whenever you wake up in the same bed as Jack, which was more often than not nowadays, his dick is poking the small of your back or it’s nestled right against the curve of your ass. Either Jack is pulling you into him in his sleep or you’re pressing back into him in your sleep, but the way you get into this position doesn’t actually matter because it always ends in the same outcome: you, awake, because Jack has his morning wood. This morning, the tight grip Jack’s hands has on your hip explains the events of the night perfectly.

Despite the closeness between your bodies, you manage to turn to face Jack without waking him up. You trace the line of his nose, the freckles on his cheeks, and thumb over his bottom lip.

Still asleep, Jack sighs at your light touch and pulls you as close as he can, slipping his thigh between your legs. You smile, feeling like a beam of light could erupt from your chest with how fond you are for this boy. His eyelashes flutter and the corner of his lip twitches. You can tell he’s fighting to stay asleep and you don’t blame him– the bed is comfortable, warm, and he doesn’t have to be at his off-season training for almost an hour and a half.

“Jacky,” you whisper, watching as his nose scrunches when he loses the battle.

“No,” he groans, voice thick with sleep. He feels blindly for the hem of your big shirt, the only thing you wore to bed last night, and pulls it up until he can pull it over his head. He kisses the space between your boobs before he relaxes and tries to fall back asleep.

You giggle when his breath washes over your chest, partially because it tickles and partially because you know that if Jack could climb into your skin, he would.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” you say, scraping your fingernails down Jack’s back in soothing movements.

“G’morning,” comes Jack’s muffled reply. “You woke me up.”

When you pull your shirt collar away from your chest to peek down at him, Jack’s got that trademark Hughes pout written across his face. His eyes reflect betrayal, but you know he’s not really mad.

“You woke me up,” you parrot back at him.

Jack lets out a “hmph!” of displeasure at that. “Clearly, one of us is lying. That’s not possible.”

“Your little friend poked me awake.” You poke Jack to emphasize your point.

He laughs and his movements shake you. He adjusts you in his arms so you can feel the press of his, still hard, “little friend” against your hip. “This guy?” He asks.

You hum, nodding. “That’s the one.”

“Poked you awake?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of him, is it?”

“Not at all.”

“What should we do about that?”

“I don’t think he should get to have any fun for the next week.”

Jack retreats from under your shirt at that and hovers above you. “A week?” He repeats, disbelief dripping from his words. “No, pretty girl, that’s cruel and unusual punishment. That’s against the Constitution.”

You laugh and press a hand to his chest. “Since when are you such a patriot?”

“I know my rights.” Jack leans down to kiss the side of your neck, then blows a raspberry in the same spot.

You shriek and twist away from him, but Jack’s hands keep you firmly underneath him. His thigh keeps you pinned in place and offers some solid pressure to your core. His dick is still pressed against your hip and even though you’re both laughing as you try to evade his wandering lips and fingertips, you can practically feel him throbbing with the contact.

“Jack!” You squeal when he digs his fingers into your sides. You reach down and grab his wrists, trying to stop him from making any more moves, but he easily reverses your grip so he’s holding your wrists instead. He presses them down into the pillow above your head and your breath catches. His eyes are on yours and time suspends, the air thick between you two.

You’re breathing heavily and Jack’s got that barely-there smile on his face. He bites his lip, then licks it.

You’re not even registering how your hips grind down on his thigh until he looks down to where you’re touching. You look too and gasp, remembering that you are completely bare on his thigh when you see the patch of wetness glistening on his skin.

When you look back up, Jack is staring at you with something akin to determination in his hooded eyes.

“Not so upset about being woken up now, huh?” He teases, tensing his thigh and leaning into you.

“Shut up,” you breathe out, tilting your hips up to meet him.

Jack watches you without saying a word for a few minutes, a small smile present on his lips.

Your eyes are closed, your head is tilted back, your hair is loose and falling in a halo around your head. It’s tangled and tousled from your sleep. You’ve got a fading crease from the fabric of your pillow across your cheek. Your shirt has ridden up to reveal your stomach and Jack reaches out to place a hand on it. He spreads his fingers wide and licks his lips at how his hand looks covering you. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, I want to do this with you forever.

“Jack,” you moan, finally opening your eyes and looking into his. You continue to roll your hips against his thigh, so dense and strong and so there beneath you.

“Yeah, honey?” He replies, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you need?”

“Want you inside me.” Your jaw drops when Jack thrusts his leg against your core, and stays there.

Jack looks over at the clock on your bedside table and thinks. He’s got a little over an hour before training, but he’ll have to shower and that could take five or thirty minutes depending on if you join him. He needs to cook and eat, which might take twenty minutes. The drive is fifteen minutes if he speeds (he does every time). He looks back at you and melts at the way you’re staring up at him, begging him for more with just your eyes.

“Fuck, can you be quick?” He asks.

“So close already, Jacky, just want you inside.”

Jack rolls onto his back and shoves his boxers down to his knees, pulling you on top of him. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You line him up with your entrance and sink down, feeling the breath seep out of you as he fills you up. You move your hips in slow circles, feeling him drag along your walls and press every delicious spot inside of you. You lean forward and stabilize yourself by putting both your hands on Jack’s abdomen. You can feel his abs tense as you start to move up and down on his cock.

He’s staring up at you like you’re a dream. He’s got a hand on your hip and a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down on your smooth skin with his thumb. The only noises between you are the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips and the strangled breaths that fall from Jack’s. You take him how you want him, deep and consistent rather than fast and hard, and Jack wonders if, maybe, this is how life was meant to be lived all along?

When you pull your shirt over your head, Jack’s hand shoots up to knead your breast. He stares, mouth slightly parted, at the way they move when you continue to bounce on top of him and how they fill his palm, the weight of them causing him to smirk with pride. He’s a boob man at heart, always has been, and these tits are his, you’re his. He starts to thrust up into you once he’s got his hands on your tits, loving the way they feel under his fingers so much that he loses track of the fact that you were supposed to be keeping the pace you wanted.

Not that you mind.

You let him fuck up into you, the tip of his dick hitting your deepest point and making you a mess. “Jack,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby, that’s right,” Jack grunts out, one hand dropping to your side to pull you down into him in time with his thrusts up. “Say my name, tell me who’s making you feel good.”

You’re both sweating, a light sheen of sweat glistening on your bodies as the sun peeks through the curtains. If you looked behind you, you’d see the mess that you left on Jack’s thigh earlier. The messy hair that you love so much is starting to stick to his forehead, clumping up in strands that fall across the skin in the most beautiful way. They’re like that because of you, because of how good he’s making you feel, the effort he puts in, and it’s that knowledge that brings you one step closer to your orgasm.

“You look so,” you say, losing the words when Jack tilts his hips to meet that one spot inside of you. “Oh, fuck, Jack.”

“Gorgeous,” Jack tells you, finishing the sentence that you had started and abandoned. “Everything I ever wanted, my pretty girl, my baby. Wanna see you come, love, wanna see you make a mess all over my cock. C’mon, baby, come for me.”

He continues to urge you as your moans grow in pitch. He continues to slam into you and it’s the tortured whimper he lets out when you clench down on him that sets off your orgasm. You almost collapse on top of him as you move your hips frantically with his stuttering ones. Your hands press on his chest, your breasts dangling right there, right in front of him, and Jack comes.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines, looping an arm around your waist and fucking up into you wildly as he comes. He bites down and sucks on the skin of one of your tits as he comes down, pulling away to reveal a patch of his saliva that will certainly turn red, then purple, then blue over the next few hours.

You both breathe heavily after the high of your orgasms, with you gently rising off of Jack and removing him from the warmth of your pussy.

“Good morning,” Jack says again when you cuddle into his side, your head resting on his arm and your fingertips dancing over his stomach.

“Good morning,” you reply with a smile when his dick twitches at your movements.

Jack throws a glance over the top of your head towards the clock.

“Mm,” Jack groans as he pushes himself up. He kisses you, long and soft, before he gets up to go to the bathroom. “That didn’t go as quick as I needed it to. Now I have to rush.”

“You’re complaining?” You tease.

“Never. Never complaining about getting to spend time with my pretty girl.”

You beam as you hear the shower turn on. You slip on one of Jack’s dirty shirts that he left on the bedroom floor the night before and get out of bed yourself, still feeling the remains of the morning’s adventures on your thighs. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can cut down on Jack’s time to get ready by making his breakfast for him, and he’ll reward you by bending you over the counter. He can never deny you another round when he sees himself dripping out of you so beautifully. That one, if you can swing it, will actually have to be quick.

notes: hi good morning readers yes here i am back again on a monday morning with more smut (i fear... i be thinking about this topic too much). and yet i am running out of things to write about because i do not want to write about the same three actions (a little fingering, a little oral, a little fucking) in every post because i fear that will get old for y'all. MORAL OF THE STORY: SEND REQUESTS! SEND ASKS! SEND COMMENTS ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE PLAYERS AND PEOPLE YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT! i need help <3 (yes, @johncena2020 i will eventually get to your Mr. Marino. i will.)

#puck-luck's fics #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄

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babydollmarauders · 5 months

Text

SECOND TRIMESTER — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem reader

part of the el!hughes au

summary: when y/n (Lovie) is having trouble sleeping and her pregnancy hormones are at their peak, Jack convinces her she won’t make his injury worse by riding him.

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), pregnancy sex, slight degradation, praise. (2k words)

notes: everyone’s been asking for a Jack and Lovie smut, so i thought when better to do the first one than when Lovie is feeling extra needy?

my husband and i lay on opposite sides of our mattress.

i’m curled up on my side, one leg curled up towards my stomach and laid on a pillow, facing my husband but at least two feet apart from him. meanwhile, he sprawls lazily on his back, scrolling on his phone.

i peek an eye open to look at him, stretching out my arm and placing my hand on his naked torso.

Jack glances over at me in thinly veiled amusement, an expression of disbelief curtaining his face.

“so, when i try to cuddle you, you push me away and tell me to stay on my side of the bed, but now you wanna touch me?” he gapes, glancing down at my hand that’s plastered onto his abs.

“precisely.” i state, my voice groggy and words drawled, “we touch on my terms, and right now, i can’t sleep and i need to feel you.”

“but i can’t cuddle you?” his full bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.

“no. you’re like a furnace and your spawn has made me into one too.”

“my spawn.” he echoes my words with amusement, “is that what we’re calling our baby now?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation, readjusting my leg on its pillow and wiggling my body. “i forgot how hard it is to sleep while pregnant.”

Jack locks his phone, discarding it onto his nightstand.

“is there anything i can do to help you sleep?” i mull over his offer, carefully considering each option that my mind thinks up.

there’s only one that really interests me, but as soon as my eyes land on his injured shoulder, i shake my head.

“no.” i finally tell him, but he cocks a brow at my hesitation.

“you sure?” he questions, “because based on the look on your face, i’d say you thought of one.”

i eye his shoulder again, thinking it over once more; but this time, his eyes follow my line of sight before he sighs.

“you’re not gonna break me, lovie.” he ushers me forward until i’m curled up into him, my medium sized bump pressed against his side. “i’m fine and i’ll continue to be fine even if we cuddle.”

cuddle.

he thinks i’m afraid of cuddling him.

he thinks cuddling is what will help me fall asleep.

“that’s not what i want.” i murmur, barely above a whisper.

“huh?” his fingers dance lightly up and down my back, sending goosebumps throughout my skin.

“i didn’t wanna cuddle.”

“then what is it you need, lovie?” he asks in a hushed tone, his baby blues gazing into mine as i look up at him.

i press my lips to his chest, mumbling out my next words, “i wanna ride you.”

“i can’t hear you, baby.” my eyes flutter closed, a silent sigh leaving my lips when i realize i’ll have to repeat my statement.

“i wanna ride you.” i repeat, slightly louder this time.

Jack’s hand freezes on my back, eyes widening just slightly before they go back to normal.

“forget it, i’ll go make some warm milk or something.” i huff, making a move to roll away from him, but his hand wraps around my forearm, effectively stopping me from getting far.

“c’mere.” he orders, darkness clouding his eyes as his pupils blow out.

his chest puffs a little when i do as he says, crawling back over to him and sitting on my knees beside him. i look down at him, hair falling to curtain my face.

“you wanna ride me, baby?” one corner of his lips quirk up in a smirk, “you wanna sink that pussy down on my cock and get yourself off?”

my breathing is becoming labored, my thighs clenching at his dirty talk, and he immediately takes notice.

“you do.” he confirms, “you wanna wear yourself out and make a mess on my cock.”

a whimper draws up from the back of my throat, nodding my head hastily.

“go ahead, lovie.” he urges, pushing the comforter down and kicking it off his lower body.

he’s half hard already, his bulge beginning to strain against his gray sweatpants. my body reacts to the sight instantly, my dampening core becoming a puddle.

but before i can jump on my husband, i hesitate, looking back down at his injury.

“are you sure?” my voice is small and meek, unsure in my actions, but when i look into his eyes, i find them darkened with lust, pupils blown.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, throwing his head back on his pillow. “yes, i’m sure. now please, just ride me.”

he doesn’t have to tell me again, i make quick work of stripping off my oversized t-shirt, laying on my back and hooking my thumbs through my panties before trying to yank them down. but my bump prevents me from getting very far in this position.

“Jack.” i whisper, a little embarrassed by the predicament.

“yeah, lovie?” i can hear the amusement in his tone, making me roll my eyes.

“can you help me?” his face pops up in front of my own as he sits up, leaning over my body.

“i’ve got you, my love.” he takes over for me, hooking his index fingers in the sides of my panties and pulling them down my thighs.

“thank you.” i tell him as he throws the now dampened panties in a vague direction towards our hamper. “now lay down.”

he chuckles at my attempt of demanding, laying back down anyways.

i roll back over and get back on my hands and knees, crawling over my husbands body and hovering over his thighs.

“hi, beautiful.” he smirks, letting his fingers trail up my sides, but his hips jerk when my own hand comes down to palm him through his sweatpants. “fuck.”

i bite my lip, tugging at the hem of his pants until they finally come down just enough for his erection to spring out. i lick my lips at the sight, any other time, i would gladly take the moment to get my lips on him, but right now? i need him in other places.

i crawl higher up his body until my face is hovering over his, lowering myself just enough to capture his lips with mine.

a soft moan pours from my lips to his, my hips lowering to grind upon his hardened cock. his hips buck up, his hand now tangling in my hair as he pulls me in deeper. his tongue grazes my lips, urging me to open up to him, and i do so eagerly, letting his tongue into my mouth to battle with mine.

“Jacky.” i whimper against him, grinding myself down onto him again.

“sit on my cock, lovie.” he gruffs, and it’s just the push i need in order to grasp his length in my hand, lining him up with my entrance before i finally sink down onto him.

my head tips back, a moan escaping my parted lips, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.

“gotta be quiet.” he states, voice strained as my walls envelop his cock. “Luke and El are sleeping right down the hall. you don’t wanna wake them, do you?”

i eagerly shake my head, enticing him to let his hand drift away from my mouth and down to my full breast. he squeezes roughly, pinching at my nipple and pulling it.

my hips grind against his, my clit dragging along his pelvic bone, but i bite my lip to hold back my sounds.

“good girl.” he praises, causing a full body shiver to encase me.

i lift myself, beginning to bounce on his dick, and the squelches of him rubbing through my wetness spur me on, lowering myself closer to his chest in order to hit a better angle.

the tip of his cock hits my g-spot and my eyes roll back, my jaw going slack as i drag my hips up and then back down.

“you’re doing so good for me, lovie.” he whispers, leaning up to let his lips graze the shell of my ear. “this is what you needed, isn’t it? to fuck yourself on my cock like a good whore? get yourself all tired out?”

i whimper behind pursed lips, nodding my head, “yes, Jack. fuck.”

he leans back down, his head back on the pillow as his fingers grip at my ass. a strangled noise escapes his throat, his cock twitching inside of me as i swivel my hips.

“just like that.” he breathes, his hips beginning to buck up in order to meet mine.

my breathing is heavy, my hands forming fists on Jack’s chest as i begin to feel that familiar pressure settle in my stomach.

“oh my god.” my words are panted out, my legs starting to ache, but i push myself to finish.

“not god, baby. just me.”

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a squeak leaving me as my hips begin to stutter, the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter with each meeting of our skin.

“Jack, i’m gonna-” i can barely finish my sentence, being cut off with a whine as his thumb finds my clit, beginning to rub circles into it.

“cum for me.” he orders, rubbing faster with each passing second, “make a mess on my cock so you can sleep.”

my walls squeeze him tighter, my legs shaking and my breath catching in my throat as my orgasm hits me. my hips halt in their movements, but Jack’s don’t stop, rather fucking up into me to ride me through my release.

until finally, he falters, his rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm, his hot cum spilling into me in ropes.

his hand cups the back of my head, pulling me down so his lips meet mine, and i let him moan against them.

our bodies press against each other, as we lay there basking in the afterglow of sex, my eyelids fluttering open and shut, my body on the precipice of sleep.

“did it work?” he asks me, a gentle hand running up and down my back.

“mhm.” i hum, “are you okay?”

he sighs as i peer at him through my lashes, scanning his face for any sign of pain.

“lovie, i’m fine. stop worrying about me.” i pout at his response, nodding my head and laying it down on his chest.

“so what made you want this?” he questions, “the last couple months if i even try to insinuate sex, you look like you wanna beat me with El’s blocks.”

i press my lips to his chest, stifling a laugh.

“damn second trimester hormones.” i huff, “i’m so horny all the time right now.”

the corner of Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk, “i think i love the second trimester.”

“shut up.” i giggle, rolling my eyes as i finally lift myself off of him, getting off the bed.

i leave my husband behind in order to use the bathroom and change back into my t-shirt and some new panties before i lay back down.

“okay, you can cuddle me.” i decide right after a hefty yawn.

“too late.” he says, an exaggerated pout playing at his lips. “i don’t wanna cuddle anymore.”

“too bad. i’m your wife and i want cuddles now so i get cuddles, because i’m carrying your child.”

Jack feigns an exasperated sigh, pulling me in so my back lays against his chest, his hand resting on my bump. he peppers light kisses up my shoulder and the side of my neck.

“i guess.” i can hear the smile in his tone, making me giggle.

“there is no guess. you love me.” i state, my hand coming down to lay on top of his.

“yeah, i love you.” he playfully concedes, pressing one last chaste kiss to my neck. “so much.”

“i love you too.”

sleep pulls at my consciousness, my eyes falling closed as i let out one final yawn, and just before i fall asleep, i can register the feeling of Jack’s hand soothingly rubbing my bump.

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes smut #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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heartsandhischier · 17 days

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definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you moved to New Jersey you felt absolutely lost. Don't take it the wrong way, it was great – a prestigious college, a change of surroundings, and a fresh start. Your journey took an unexpected turn when you accidentally bumped into someone, quite literally bumping into him, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee. That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted to the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly you became best friends, helping each other with everything. You were there to cheer him on in the stands, and cheer him up during his rough rookie year, and he helped you out with your schoolwork, making sure you never felt alone in the stress of college life. You both shared a lot of laughs, late-night chats, and supported each other through thick and thin. And when you struggled to find a new apartment, he offered to let you stay in the guest room without hesitation. When weeks turned into months, you realized that living together clicked for both of you, turning what was meant to be a temporary arrangement into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were on the edge of the seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils were about to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you leapt up, a surge of joy overwhelming you. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant for Jack – having the chance to play alongside his brother, to improve and grow together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. Jack had told you that if Luke was drafted to the Devils, he would move into the apartment. However, from the friendship you had with Jack, you could only be excited for the fun ahead with two goofy brothers.

But here you were, angrily banging on the shared bathroom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me, I’m gonna be late.” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant and fun. Luke was definitely the annoying brother of the three. Unlike Jack, who was always kind and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence, often making snide, witty comments, as if he wanted to fire you up.

The apartment had become a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension thick enough to cut with a knife. In Jack’s absence, there was no one acting as the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you. Luke was leaving the bathroom messy, his toiletries scattered, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and taking your clothes out of the dryer leaving them in a pile on the floor so he could use the machine, he even went as far as to have a party the night before your midterm. You couldn’t help but feel like he was doing it on purpose, you knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency – cause you knew what Jack was like. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose, to get under your skin. And what bothered you most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair was damp, a towel wrapped around his lower body, showcasing his muscles. “You don’t have to spend that long in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you remarked sharply, your arms crossed.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke retorted, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“No, like shit,” you fired back without missing a beat.

“Well, you look pretty shit yourself. So you don’t really need to go to the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly pleased with his response. Frustrated, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him to move on with your day.

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees as he begged. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after non-stop stress, Jack insisted on you joining them, arguing you deserved a break. But, his team included a certain someone – Luke. The idea of enduring hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered, hoping to entice you with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation for you to join, “Come on, I know you guys rotate who keeps the tab,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes playfully at him, “And you were the one paying last time.”

“Please I’ll clean the bathroom the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Okay next four weeks. And I'll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook broccoli.”

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you questioned, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiosity in your voice. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at your question, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “Suddenly become best friends with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you replied with a snort, “Just needed to know if I had to fight for us to sit in the back.”

The Uber drove into the bustling city of New York, skyscrapers rushing by in a blur. Luke had headed out early with Holtz and Mercer, leaving you to revel in the peaceful drive to the club, free from any of the usual bickering. The car was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, both you and Jack bubbling with anticipation for the evening ahead.

A chime sounded as the elevator announced your arrival to the club’s level, and as the doors slid open, you were greeted by a stunning panoramic view of New York City. the vibrant lights and endless skyline stretched out before you, leaving you in awe. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack nudged you, his smirk infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically under the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. Jack, with a reassuring grip, took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering for you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates – they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They made you feel like a part of the team. And then there was Luke, he didn't even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in a conversation with Timo to care – yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, drinks were served – Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favorite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack even went as far as to make sure you got your favorite drink.

After a few more drinks and hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music took over as soon as you started moving, and you found yourself really enjoying the moment. Dancing there with Jack, you felt genuinely happy that you’d agreed to go out. And you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, lost in the rhythm and the music, you realized your glass was empty. Sliding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, navigating the sea of people all moving to the same beat. The bartenders moved with swift precision, a blur of activity as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by the eager club-goers.

Waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What you getting beautiful?” He was undoubtedly handsome, but the whole ordeal made you somewhat uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in, his breath brushed your ear, the words “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” lingering in the air between you. The proposal sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine, and not the good kind. You were caught off guard, unsure of how to escape the situation, all you managed in response was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden move, he leaned in. You were frozen, unable to move away, you just tightly shut your eyes, bracing for impact. However, the kiss never landed. With your eyes still closed, the sounds of a scuffle broke through the music.

Then he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place.” it sent a shiver down your spine, and not the good kind, you could only offer a sheepish smile. Then in the whiff of a moment he leaned in trying to give you a kiss. You were frozen, you couldn’t move away and just closed your eyes, bracing for impact. But the kiss never came, eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger. He had pushed him, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering a sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving him a small nod. What the fuck just happened.

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’, please.” The bartender acknowledged with a nod and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a surprising gentleness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, wrapped around you, quickly making you forget all about the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, you had never been this close to him before, ever. However, you found it somewhat comforting. He seemed to sense this shift too, his hand gently placed at your hips, his voice teasing, “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.”

The comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding to your cheeks. You were quick to retort, attempting to mask your fluster, “Blame that on the club being crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I’d have moved out by now.”

You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence now, and it seemed he noticed. “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.” it caught you off guard and you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. You quickly shook it off, “Blame that the club is crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I'd have moved out by now.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer than before, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realized how much you actually enjoy my company. All these complaints might just be your way of asking for more attention.”

Caught in the unexpected closeness, you tried to maintain your composure. “Dream on, Luke. If I wanted more of your attention, I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like that.” that damn smirk, you wish you could just wipe it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse, before navigating through the lively crowd, towards Jack at the table.

“Enjoying yourself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you gently.

“Fine,” you responded, rolling your eyes at the boy. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them order my favorite drink,” you laughed, giving in to his bright smile.

Jack joined in the laughter, but something in his response made it seem he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head looking at you, genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favorite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

The next few weeks, you tried your hardest to avoid Luke. The whole situation in the club… it was confusing, it was so unexpected but for some reason you didn’t mind the closeness that happened that night. But you couldn't face him. You even got up hours earlier than necessary to avoid the usual bathroom argument, waiting a few extra hours before class or work. It was tearing your sleep schedule apart, but it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone – 3AM. You let out a frustrated sigh, you couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your space in an unbearable warmth. Stress of upcoming exams layed heavy on your subconscious. And the thought of having to get up in two hours just to avoid Luke, didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed, you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hanging loosely around you. Whatever. At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyways, and the boys probably have early morning practice.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimize the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. The gentle illumination from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room – Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned to your dismay when you spotted the very person you’d tried so hard to avoid for weeks on end – Luke. His back was turned, curls messy, and a pair of pajama pants loosely hanging around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders, all on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate response – you knew you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, your slippers betraying you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands – his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realize I had company,” you managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” I mean he wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to maintain a distance, you did live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then.” navigating the awkward silence towering the room, you reached for a glass, making your way to the sink – coincidentally right beside where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence was towering over you as you filled the glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to dislike each other, we do end up in the same place a lot.” Luke observed with a smirk that you felt rather than saw.

You scoffed, attempting to maintain a facade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don't blame me,” he countered.

You huffed, caught off guard. “This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly, “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next to me.”

You let out a scoff, annoyed, “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, reducing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Your heart was racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment, was tonight transformed into a space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible – a surprise party. You pulled out all the stops, inviting friends, his teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigate the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. There he was, nestled in a corner of the room, deeply engrossed in conversation. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonized so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entirely absorbed in dialogue with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hit it off huh,?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you found yourself responding, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the observation felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you felt. He slapped your shoulder genially, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a noncommittal shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming inside. “No idea.”

“This is nice isn’t it,” Jack's voice cut through the comfortable hum of the city. The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complemented the heat perfectly.

The sun was shining, it was warm outside accompanied with a gentle comfortable breeze. It was a great day in Jersey city.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that you had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together,” he joked playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words – he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right; it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke eventually affected Jack as well, as the two of them shared basically the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were avoiding luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I've been drowning in school work lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather, you suggested heading to one of your favorite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with two coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveaway – you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” The two ‘curlyheads’ turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you settled into the chair next to Jack, putting up your best efforts to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but you, you remained quiet. Occasionally offering a nod and a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, effectively avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring Luke, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually, John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to the facade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, Jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the cafe’s cozy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the spotlight.

“Wha-what do you mean,” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I wasn’t being weird.” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling from his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice, as a chuckle broke free. “You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. I mean it's better than to tell him about Luke, right? In the end Jack is still his older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your closest friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even worse.

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates. The night a farewell toast before everyone dispersed for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone enjoying each other's company before leaving. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and John, navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

Finding yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. You managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled down beside him. “Hey Y/N having fun?” he asked, his smile was radiating, infectious.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell upon you, filled by only the sounds of your silent sipping your respective drinks. John’s laughter cut through the silence, laughing at the obvious awkward situation, breaking the ice with ease. “Y’know Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting, about us.” you groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed a finger between the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I forgot?”

“No no no.” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around desperate to clear up the situation. John is, of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it may have happened under other circumstances. You both burst out in laughter at the situation, dissolving any lingering awkwardness.

John dramatically placed a hand over his heart in relief. “Phew, good. Don’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly until his words fully registered – you never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered a pat on your shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next until the vibrant energy of the bar felt like a distant hum. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passenger side of a car, the light of New Jersey streaking past in a dizzying display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state you looked over to the driver's seat – Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight Y/N. And you… you were way too drunk, we’re going home,” Luke responded. His tone lacked its usual lightness, replaced by a firm blunt response. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tension hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cozying up with John,” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, similar to the unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respons, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-words coming out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could almost feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was – that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part was inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, his hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit, I got a bit jealous. But i know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite – you were trying to avoid him. And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you.” The car came to a stop, you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused, right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve, he knew. He knew, that you’d been in fact avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away from his. Luke didn’t look away either, it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering – melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

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starbabyg · 1 year

Note

Ok this is just an idea but I love love love ‘Picture Perfect’ and I was thinking part 2 where one of the boys accidentally like finds one of the pictures… like Trevor and him ordered pizza or something and Jack tells him to grab his card out of his wallet and a Polaroid just tumbles out… and all the sudden Trevor can’t stop imagining you and jack. Maybe Jack catches him with the picture and is all cocky about how much of a good girl you are, how perfect you feel and sound… and maybe just maybe Jack invites Trev to watch… no touching because he’s a protective boyfriend but he knows you’ve thought about having someone watch before and he Trusts Trevor….

Picture Perfect Part 2 | Jack Hughes x Reader x Trevor Zegras smut

Ugh nony I loveee this concept!! You’re mind is just ugh! Chef’s kiss!!!

The OG Picture perfect smut is right hereee to refresh ya memory <3.

Warnings; smut obviously, the c word lmfao, the word ‘daddy’ in a sexual context

+++

It was guy’s night at lake cabin, which meant Jack and Trevor, the only two to ever pull through for guy’s night, would be playing video games, watching a game, and attempting to go fishing until they finally give up and order some food cause neither of them know how to cook.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust. 5-0. It’s settled my characters better than yours,” Jack taunted, putting the game controller down and picking up his drink.

“Okay, I’m still on the cover though sooo,” Trevor quipped back with sass.

“Yeah cause I was too busy for a shoot, now go get the pizza loser I gotta go piss.” Jack heard the door bell ring, the only person it could be being the pizza guy.

“In your dreams Hughes, I don’t got cash for the tip lend me a five.”

“Get it out of my wallet I’m about to burst,” Jack shouted as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.

Trevor chuckled shaking his head, picking up Jack’s wallet from the coffee table and opening it up. Trevor rifled through Jack’s wallet, seeing twenties and hundreds, but no small bills.

“Jesus does this guy have any change?” Trevor flipped Jack’s wallet upside down, dumping it out to find at least some coins. Thwip. Along with a bunch of dollar bills something heavier fell out. Jack’s special Polaroids fell out, all faced backside up. Trevor being the nosy person he is flipped them over and picked them up.

Trevor’s eyes widened as he saw the contents of said Polaroids. You spread out on the bed, lewd shots of you in the matching set, bent over and your tits hanging out. “No fucking way,” Trev whispered to himself still perusing through the countless pictures. He was brought out of his thoughts by the door bell ringing once more, this time sounding more impatient by the abruptness. Too enthralled with his new discovery Trevor just grabbed a fifty and handed it to the guy. I’ll just venmo Jack later. He grabbed the pizza and tossed it on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and looking at the pictures once more.

How the fuck did Hughes bag her? Trevor was acquainted with you, knew for sure you were pretty as hell but didn’t know that underneath that seemingly quiet and meek exterior was a girl who would pose for something like this. With your makeup done and your body out of your normal casual clothes, he finally got to see the more private side of you that was reserved for Jack only.

“She’s fucking perfect huh,” Jack smirked from behind the couch. He walked over and plopped himself next to Trevor, who just sat there with shock on his face. His best friend had just caught him looking at his private pictures of his girlfriend. Fuck. “Such a good girl for me. Posed exactly how I told her to. Straight out of a magazine, a masterpiece.” Jack could just go on and on about you.

“Wait— you’re not tripping over me looking at these?” Trevor was surprised at Jack’s nonchalant attitude over the situation. He thought Jack would be more of the possessive type.

“Not really. I mean look at her, why would I want to keep that just to myself. I already have the exclusive rights to fucking her. Now that I’ll forever keep to myself,” Jack smiled, he knew that many men fawned after you. Imagined what your naked body looked like. How you felt.

Trevor now was dragged into the thought of fucking you. How good you would be in bed. How submissive. How you sounded. How it would feel to have his dick wrapped inside you. If you turned him on just from pictures imagine the real thing.

“You wanna know how it is huh,” Jack could see that look on Trev’s face, that look of longing. It’s like Pandora’s box was open, and that box, was well, your box. LMFAOOO I HAD TO.

Now Trevor didn’t want to cross any lines. After all Jack was like his best friend. He wouldn’t risk his friendship over anything in the world. Jack saw Trevor’s facial expression change, now looking more panicked.

“Come to my house next weekend. Now I’m not gonna let you fuck her. But you can at least watch her get fucked. The closest thing you’ll ever get to that perfection of a pussy. When I say she’s a goddess I mean it in every aspect.”

No way was Jack just offering to let me watch him fuck his girlfriend. No way in hell. “A-are you sure man? I just got caught up in the pictures I don’t need to do all that–”

“Zegras, it’s not that big of a deal it’s not like you’re fucking her behind my back– unless you are then I’m gonna beat your ass. Besides y/n has a lil voyeurism kink, she likes being watched sometimes. I’ll be fucking her against our apartment window or on the balcony. At least I actually know you.”

“Jesus y/n’s more of a freak than I pegged her for.”

“No, she really is. The things this girl introduced me to. The things she does to me. Literally has me wrapped around her finger.” Just from this conversation both the boys were getting turned on, Jack reminiscing in past moments and Trevor just imagining how good it could be having sex with you.

“Shit I need to get me one of those,” Trev laughed.

“Yeah, no one will ever compare to y/n, like ever,” Jack cut that quick, knowing that you’re literally the most perfect girl in the whole wide world. No one could ever come close to you in Jack’s eyes. “Just come by my place, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Just as Jack had told him, Trevor went to his house that next weekend. To say Trev was nervous was an understatement. In all honesty he felt like it was all a set up, that in the end Jack would be mad that his best friend would actually want to see his girlfriend getting fucked. But there he stood at Jack’s front door, contemplating on whether or not to ring the doorbell or just altogether leave and forget that any of this ever happened. Before he could even decide between the two, Jack’s door opened.

“What’s good Zegras,” Jack held open the door nonchalantly.

“How’d you know I was here–”

“Saw you on the ring camera duh. Come in though before my neighbors think I’m having a party and try to pull through. They’re just a little too comfortable.”

Trevor just laughed in agreement, still anxious about the whole situation. He sat himself on the couch, watching Jack as he pulled two drinks out of the fridge.

“Y/n’s on her way back from getting her nails done. We can just chill and play some chel til she gets back.”

“You told her that I’m coming over?” Trevor wanted to make sure that you were okay with the whole situation, after all you were the one getting fucked in front of the one man audience.

“Nah, I just told her to wear one of her prettiest sets cause I have a surprise for her.” Jack shrugged as he threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“So you didn’t even tell her! You’re a dick Hughes. What if she gets weirded out and tells someone in the league,” Trevor was thinking about every possible way this could go wrong.

“God Trev, what did I tell you. Y/n isn’t gonna care she likes the taboo shit.”

“If you’re wrong I’m never talking to your ass again. Like ever,” He pointed seriously.

“Whatever, set the game up I’mma make us some mozzarella sticks,” Jack threw a piece of popcorn at Trevor, who was watching Jack’s every move.

The two boys were deep into a third round of chel when they heard the front door unlocking. Trevor quickly looked at Jack, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Hi lovey, I’m back,” you sweetly spoke out, not knowing where Jack could be. You locked the door, taking off your shoes and setting your purse down carefully.

“Hey my princess, I’m in the living room. How was your nail appointment,” Jack had his eyes glued to the tv, taking these moments where Trevor was distracted to get in some goals.

“It was good, I got them the color you chose for me. It’s prettier than I thought it’d be. With the red toes just how you like.”

“Ouuu you gotta let me see. I bet they look amazing on you.” Jack smiled, just imagining how it looked. Trevor looked to Jack and into the void where he heard your voice coming from. It was a bit awkward to hear such a casual yet intimate one on one conversation between the two of you. It seemed to him like eavesdropping.

“Mkay love, be right there. I’m just putting my stuff away. But what was that surprise you were talking about? It was so hot in the salon and I couldn’t even take off my jacket cause of what I got on underneath.”

“Come over here and you’ll see it, I got it right here for you,” Jack smirked as he patted Trev on the back, who looked like he was about to pass out.

You entered the kitchen area, back turned towards the boys as you perused through the fridge for a drink. Trevor blinked as he saw you, even more nervous than he thought he would be.

You opened a soda, throwing away the cap before going into the living room section to fully see Jack on the couch, with Trevor in tow. “Oh hey Trevor, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he mustered out, looking at you in your little yoga outfit. With one of those tight fitting cropped lululemon define jackets with the matching form fitting yoga pants. Your hair slicked back in a high ponytail.

“You know how I had that guys night with Trev?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded as you sipped your soda.

“Well he had to get money to tip the pizza guy out of my wallet and he came across your polaroids,” Jack casually explained. Trevor took a hard gulp as he gauged your reaction.

“The ones of me in the pink agent provacateur set?” You now knew what was going on, and surely this was quite the surprise on Jack’s part.

“Mhmm.”

You turned towards Trevor, “Did you like how I looked in it?” You thought it was cute that someone who is always so confident was now a muttering mess right in front of you.

“Y-yeah of course. You looked stunning.”

“Good thing I wore the matching one then huh,” slowly you started to unzip your jacket, revealing a look alike set in a light blue hue. You shimmied out of your yoga pants, dropping them to the floor and giving the two boys a full 360°. Swaying your hips, doing cute little poses.

“Fuck,” Trevor said under his breath. The pictures only did so much justice. Now he could see every curve in person. The jiggle of your ass as you turned in a circle, your boobs bouncing in that tight bra you wore.

You got on your knees and crawled over to them on the couch. You made your way to Trevor, leaning up and spreading his legs apart. You started to unbuckle his pants before Jack laid his hand atop yours.

“Woah sweetheart, too eager now. You know I’m too selfish to let anyone else get a piece of you. Trev’s just here to watch and see just how perfect you are.”

Your mouth went into an ‘o’, now knowing the extent of the ‘surprise’ Jack had for you. “Okay daddy, I understand now.” You moved on to Jack, actually getting to pull down his sweats and boxers. His dick sprung out, already hard from the little show you had just put on.

You took Jack’s dick into your hands, licking up and down the base of it before going to the tip. You started off slow, giving his tip kitten licks before fully taking it into your mouth. Trevor just watched, mouth agape as he could only imagine the sensations Jack was feeling. And by the reactions Jack was giving the head must’ve been damn good.

“Fuck princess, show Trev how good you can take my cock in your mouth,” Jack groaned as he threw his head back.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, the vibrations causing Jack’s dick to prematurely twitch. You took his member out of your mouth, letting some drool dribble from your plump lips to trail down his tip. With enough drool as lubricant, you took him back into your mouth and started blowing him at a steady pace. Your cheeks as hollowed as they could, your tongue swirling around as much as it could.

“Fuck, I love when you do that shit with your tongue,” Jack put his hand behind your head and pushed you down even further, causing you to gag. Trevor just got harder and harder, his dick print now showing through his jeans. He gave it a few rubs, the strain being almost too painful. He just had to get off to you. You saw him writhing in his seat.

“Take it out and stroke it. It must be awfully painful to be that horny and not do anything about it,” you smiled, out of breath. With that you went back to sucking off Jack, looking Trevor in his eyes. The eye contact did something to him, his dick starting to throb and his tip turning a shade of pink. Trevor quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled it out, his hand gripping his dick in an effort to release all the pent up pressure he was feeling.

Jack lifted you up, softly tossing you face first into the couch and taking a position behind up. He cupped your pussy and gave your clit a few rubs before spreading you out on his dick.

“Ohhhh my god,” you drawled out with the prettiest moan. Trevor could’ve busted just from that sound alone it was so angelic. Your hands gripped the head rest of the couch, Jack hitting it from behind intensely. All while Trev’s face was just mere inches away.

“Yeah, take it like the good girl you are,” Jack slapped your ass, with it reverberating as a red mark replaced where his hand once was. You let out a squeal, rubbing it a bit to sooth the sting.

Trevor fucked his hand vicariously, imagining it was you in its place instead. It might’ve sounded sick but he had now developed a deep lust crush on you. How could he not seeing how much of a good girl you were?

Jack flipped you over, putting you on your back and drilling into you. Your knees touching your chest and your legs slung over his shoulders. With this position Trevor got the perfect few of Jack going in and out of you. Your punani looked perfect, looking so tightly wrapped around Jack’s dick, your lips and folds moving along with him as he pushed himself in further and further. It took everything Trevor had inside of him to have enough discipline to not start playing with your clit right then and there. The way it just sat there glistening. But it was as if Jack could read his dirty thoughts in his dirty mind, Jack’s hand going to the base of your navel and then trailing down to toy with you clit.

“Mhmm daddy just like thatttt,” you moaned out breathlessly, all that stimulation starting to run through the rest of your body. Your legs started to twitch, you were going to cum soon at the rate Jack was fucking you.

“Get on top, show Trevor how you ride this dick,” Jack heaved, pulling you up and into a deep kiss. He dropped himself right on the couch, waiting for you to get on top.

“Of course daddy,” you giggled as you placed one knee on each side of him. For obvious reasons you knew you had to show out for Trevor and give your best performance. You touted yourself up before slowly sinking yourself into Jack’s dick, which caused him to let out a low gutteral groan. His hands made their way to your ass, gripping the supple flesh.

Gradually you picked up speed, arching your back as you lifted yourself up and grinding yourself back down to the base of his shaft. Trevor’s eyes just followed, up down up down up. You then got on the soles of your feet, giving you more spring with your bounce. Now you had more motion, moving your hips in circles and back and forth. With Jack still inside you you turned a 180°, your ass now facing him.

“Lemme see that ass clap baby,” Jack instructed with a slap of your bum. You steadied your feet on the floor, your hands on your knees as you started to lift your ass up again. You bounced yourself on Jack’s dick, his hands on your waist to help you steady your pace. In this position his dick was hitting just the right spot, bringing you closer to climax each time it would his the back of your walls.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna– I’m gonna cum,” you panted, turning around to look at him. It was getting difficult to keep up the pace, your stamina draining as your vision became starry.

“Uhnt uh, not until Trevor and I both finish, okay?” Jack gave your ass a squeeze. Those words turned you on, giving you an extra boost that you most definitely needed.

“Oh-okay,” you continued to ride him, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Trevor himself was close to finishing, the real life porn in front of him pushing him to the edge.

“Fuck I’m close,” Trevor finally groaned out, bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was the one fucking you from behind. It was a sick and twisted thing for him to fantasize but what else was he supposed to do seeing you ride Jack so immaculately? He sputtered out curse words a few moments later, busting out into his hand with a few stray cum drops landing on your ass.

Jack saw this, getting just a tad bit possessive over the seemingly nothing, now bucking his hips up and fucking you as you tried to steady yourself. He glanced over at Trevor for a second, seeing the green in his eyes. Jack gave him a smirk as to say ‘yup, this is mine and mine only. You only get the privilege to watch and to never touch.’

“Oh my fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you squealed as your legs started to go limp. Jack held you, still pumping in and out of you.

“There you go princess, ride it out for me,” he held you close to his body, his face in the crook of your neck leaving wet kisses. “Get on your knees I’m gonna finish on your face.”

You obeyed his command, hazily turning around and getting down on your knees. You looked up at him with a smile, your tongue sticking out like a puppy dog. Jack groaned, pumping his dick until he came, cum dripping out and onto your face and tongue. You giggled before licking up the drops that fell onto your lips. Jack bent down a left a kiss on your forehead.

“Did I do good daddy?” You asked, still on your knees.

“You did amazing and more my love, now go get dressed we’re gonna go out to eat,” Jack praised you. You nodded and went to your shared room, now going to change and maybe lay down for a few, so fucked out you could barely walk. Trevor just sat there, heaving and replaying this whole scenario in his head. All of this really happened, he had just watched his best friend fuck his girlfriend.

Jack turned over to Trevor, pulling up his sweats, “See, didn’t I tell you she was the perfect girl?”

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 year

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don’t mind the snakes, they’re harmless unless provoked; i’ll try to believe you when you tell me you’re fine.

qh43 x reader: girl who wants, boy who wants to be wanted.

(warnings: filth (nothing as bad as the last one, wink), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), general feelings of anxiety and insecurity (ew, gross! this is where i draw the line. lol, right.), mention of injury, mirror bullshit (today we tackle the feminine relationship with her reflection!), general debauchery. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

a/n: please be kind. i didn’t check for typos. this one is for my quinn girls and guys and such, how patient you have been. this also happens to be the most, hm, vulnerable? emotional? story yet. sorry to the porn lovers (i love you. i am you.) but this is actually fairly tame compared to my other shit. i mean, as tame as you can get when he forces you to look at yourself getting railed in the mirror. i think i invalidated my point. whatever. takeaways, takeaways. right - female desire is not a beast to be tamed, as much as we are told that. it is not a monstrous entity, it does not transform you into something vile. your desire makes you beautiful. your snakes make you fucking sick. sorry about all the classical imagery, i can’t help it, it makes me seem smarter. sorry i made this fictional qh43 a little sad, but i can do that, because he is fictional. anyways, gif is not mine. lovely people in my messages asking for auston - he’s up next, i promise, very soon. unfortunately, school has to come first. see you very soon. go canucks. love your snakes, today and always.

it had been a tough game. you knew that. he had played well, great, even, but the other team had been better. it was as simple as that. you knew quinn couldn’t win a game all on his own, but you also knew him - and how sometimes he had a hard time recognizing that.

regardless, it had been tough to watch. how he would slam the puck into the boards after the other team scored, the slight droop of his head as the clock refused to expire, the missed calls (most notably the high stick that resulted in some stitches during intermission). a tough game. your heart hurt thinking about how disappointed he must be.

anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you thought about what you could do to convince him that there was nothing he could do. unease seemed to seep through the floor, drip down the wallpaper as you waited for him to come home to you.

the tick of the clock took on a quiet hissing tone, might as well have been a bomb. it didn’t matter how many times it happened, how routine it all had become, it was just the kind of person you were. you felt things deeply, terribly, in every fiber of your being.

but, maybe to your surprise, when the door opened, the house did not explode. spontaneous fire did not consume everything you had built. every picture frame remained, exactly as you had left it.

you wrapped him in your arms before he even had a chance to drop his things on the floor. you felt one of his arms come to wrap around your waist as he shrugged his bag off of his shoulder.

“hey, doll,” he murmured into your hair, hooking his other arm around the back of your neck, his hand bracing your neck. you stood, together, for a moment, just breathing each other in. “you’re nervous,” he said into your neck, no judgement in his voice. just observation. just knowing.

you pulled away just slightly, avoided meeting his gaze head on. “’m not,” you tried, to which he slid one hand to your chin and forced your eyes to meet his, dismissing your lie with the slightest tilt of his head, thumb slowly drawing circles on your jaw.

“why?” he asked simply. as well as you knew him, sometimes you forgot just how well he knew you, too. that you weren’t in this alone. that maybe you didn’t have to trick someone into being with you, that maybe they just wanted to. you were still working on that. you took a breath, shifted your weight on your feet.

“just know you’re hard on yourself,” you admitted to him. “tell me what you’re thinking.”

he hummed, it rumbled from his chest into yours. you gasped as he pulled you flush against him. “can’t think,” he whispered, voice gravelly, “too distracted by how beautiful you look with my number on your back.”

you had forgotten that you were wearing one of his old jerseys. you felt his fingers running over the stitching through the fabric, leaving a breath of a touch on your back underneath. he leaned forward. “you wear this for me, doll?”

your breath was shaky as worry melted away into something else, something much more dangerous, something much more vulnerable. you bit your lip, rested both of your hands on the soft plane of his chest, nodded.

“yeah?” his gaze sunk to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “so good, doll, ‘m so lucky.” something flared up inside of you, some kind of warning that you tried to push aside.

“please, can i have a kiss?” you practically whispered, pressed your palms harder into his chest. his lips quirked in a slight smile for what felt like the first time that night before he guided your lips to his, still grasping your jaw in his hand.

your chest fluttered in a beautiful sigh, pushing you deeper into the kiss like an encouraging breeze. you felt a prickling sensation fizz around your arms as the wanting welled up inside of you. that’s what it was. the wanting.

his broad hand tangled itself in your hair. you brought your hand up to the side of his face, noticed immediately how he winced, only barely, but enough that you pulled away, willed the wanting to secede, searched his expression as you both observed the other, not touching.

you fixed your gaze on the new stitches on his chin. under your deep observation, he shoved his hands in his pockets. was that embarrassment?

“tell me,” you said softly.

he sighed, silent for a couple beats. “just tired,” he exhaled. “tired of trying so hard just to have everyone take, and take, and take.”

you slotted your own hands in his pockets, too, held onto his fingers, leaned forward into him again. “i don’t want to take from you,” you told him. “i never want to hurt you.” but you wanted him, so deeply and so horridly.

he actually laughed, gave you a smile with teeth. “you, doll? you couldn’t.”

you squeezed his hands. “promise me. promise me you’d tell me if you were hurting.”

he squeezed you back, visibly lighter, face no longer shadowed with concern. “i promise.” he leaned down to your ear. “how could i be hurting with you, here, like this for me?”

you shivered, felt the familiar fear of the want. “like what?”

“mine, doll. all mine.” his grip moved to your wrist. “gonna show me what no one can take from me?”

at your whimper, he whisked you into the bedroom, settled you both on the bed in an air of feverish possession. he pulled you in for another kiss, this time with a wince that he moaned at. you rolled your hips slowly on his lap, felt the slight scratch of his stitches on your chin. you imagined your beast swallowing his pain whole, gulping it down and down until he couldn’t remember it was ever there.

“can feel how wet you are, doll,” he said, pulling away just slightly. “tell me what you want.”

everything you wanted hissed through your mind. you scrunched your eyes shut. surely he could see all your scales now. surely, maybe, it would be fine. “just want to be good for you, quinn,” you confessed to him and some unnamed deity, “just want to feel you inside me.”

he held the side of your face in his hand, tapped one of your eyelids with his thumb. “open.”

you did as told. “don’t hide from me,” he said, little more than a plea. “i’ll never get enough of you wanting me.” you melted as he flipped you around, your cheek pressed into the bed, hips raised up to him. you felt his fingers trace the outline of the number on your back, again, something like a prayer. “never get tired of giving you what you want.” you bit your lip, muffled your moan.

he ran two fingers through your folds, groaned. “too good to me,” he murmured. you heard the rustling of clothes pulled down, aside, the sound of him spitting into his hand before he pumped himself twice, three times. you shifted your hips back, urged him to finally indulge you.

“please, quinn.”

he placed a warm hand on your hip and squeezed. “such good manners, doll,” he praised. then, at last, he pushed himself into you entirely. your back arched, hips tilted up at the fullness you felt. you gathered fistfuls of the sheets in your fists as tension pooled in your lower stomach.

your mouth fell open. “so deep,” you choked out. “feels so good-”

he slowly began to move in and out of you, grip tightening on the soft flesh of your hip, groaned deeply. “this what you wanted, doll?” he bit out. “feel so perfect for me.” his struggle of an inhale and exhale was something of your dreams. “look so beautiful like this.” you pushed your hips back against him, meeting him halfway each time. he picked up the pace, moved the hand on your hip down to your clit, rubbed you perfectly.

time evaporated, but at some point, he grunted. “oh, doll, look,” he rasped. “look at how good you’re being for me.” he tangled his free hand in the hair at the base of your head, pulled you back towards him, forced your gaze up.

you must have left your closet door open, because you found yourself looking into your mirror. you immediately screwed your eyes shut, as if eye contact would turn you both to stone.

he thrusted harder, rubbed you faster, relished in the way you cried out. “open your eyes, doll, look at me,” he willed, roughly, “look at who’s fucking you so good, yeah?” he pulled your hair just a bit harder. you moaned. maybe the force would strangle the snakes. “look,” he ordered.

you did, couldn’t help it, finally opened your eyes and met your own gaze in the mirror, found your head devoid of snakes and your face completely human, maybe even divine - the flush in your cheeks, the swell of your lips. the want was no beast.

even more, you saw him, wanting. the heat in his eyes, the clench of his jaw, the glisten of effort sparkling on his cheekbones, the flex of his stomach and chest as you squeezed him tighter. you couldn’t peel your eyes away.

“oh, doll likes that, hm?” he groaned, “squeeze me so perfect.” you moaned in affirmation. “like to watch me, yeah?”

you nodded, hummed, so, so close. “gonna cum,” you warned, “so close.”

“yeah?” he breathed. “just tell me, doll. tell me what i already know, then i’ll let you cum.”

you whimpered as he rubbed your clit with the heel of his rough palm, clutched at your hair, hips sputtering. you wished you could somehow freeze this image into the mirror forever, to see over and over again. “’m yours, quinn,” you whined, “only yours, always. no one else.”

“know you are, doll,” he groaned. “cum with me.” and with an especially hard thrust, you both reached a high, your chest falling forward onto the bed, clenching around him, him flooding into you with a grunt.

there were no scales, no snakes, the want simply wrapping around you both pleasantly. coexisting with the want. your chests heaved, he pulled you into him, arms firm around you. you rested your head in the pocket between his neck and shoulder. you both rested in a mirroring pocket of blissful silence for many beautiful moments.

“i’ll never be disappointed when i come home,” he eventually muttered into your hair, “as long as i’m coming home to you, doll. to you wanting me.”

you kissed his collarbone. and of course that was enough. of course to want him forever was enough.

fin.

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dirtykpopsnaps · 7 months

Text

Here’s the request for Jack!

#dirty kpop snaps #dirtysnaps #celebrity #celebrity smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #snapchat #smut snaps #hockey player #hockey player smut

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residenthughes · 3 months

Text

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence.

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair.

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing.

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.”

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation.

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds.

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan.

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs.

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.”

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars.

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.”

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup.

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

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