#{hughes}

Tears of relief came out of your eyes when you ran into her arms after your last recital. A summer went by of the boys playing hockey and you playing in the yard, watching with a frown wishing to be apart of that. Ellen came to you one day, sweat beading down your forehead in the heat but refusing to leave your brothers, Luke looking at you, with a flyer of a new cheer place opening in the town. She never imagined that’s what would be your thing, but it was. Cheer stuck with you throughout elementary school, even as you tried soccer with your best friend— you did that until the last year of middle school. Ultimately giving soccer up so you could focus on cheer in high school, and you were pretty damn good at it.

It was hard for the family though, hockey games between the three boys and practice’s with you that lasted hours, plus the games you performed at, then the big competitions. And it was really hard on you, when your brothers weren’t there in the stands, nor was your mom. It was usually your father when the family couldn’t be there, but his cheers were loud enough for them.

Your brother have always been protective, you knew that. In elementary school, Quinn and Jack both got in trouble for punching a boy at lunch because somebody yelled that he was your boyfriend.

“They punched him, mom! He was bleeding!” You cried in the back seat of the car, Quinn was sitting in the front with a glare as Luke sat between you and Jack with wide eyes after just witnessing you jump over to wack Jack in the head repeatedly.

Ellen sighed loudly from the driver seat, she looked in the mirror to see you— eyes blood shot red and a permanent frown on your face. She looked at Quinn quickly, his fist were still clenched in his lap as he looked out the window.

“Yeah, he deserves it.” Jack grumbled from his seat, Ellen was ready to pull over and yank you off of your brother but instead of throwing punches you yelled.. something that never really left the four of your guys mouth during arguments. The two Hughes parents had seen a lot of fights between the boys and you, arguing though… never happened often, just opting to use your fists, legs, and teeth sometimes.

A sob tore through your mouth, Luke was watching your carefully. A hand on your leg, trying to calm you down but nothing seemed to help.

“I hate you!”

Ellen gasped so loudly, she coughed. Quinn unclenched his fist in shock, Luke’s jaw dropped watching as you sucked in a deep shaky breath as your mom pulled into the driveway, you hiccuped through your sobs and yanked your leg away from Luke, he frowned. Jack’s lip parted and snapped his head towards the back of his mom’s seat.

She yelled your name, you sobbed louder trying to unbuckle yourself but couldn’t see through the tears, Luke noticed and put his hand between the two of you and pressed his finger down and unbuckled you. Not bothering to grab your book bag, you threw your door open and slid out with another sob and ran into the house.

That was the first time, more followed, especially when you grew older. Your mother worried when you grew into your beauty, how overprotective the boys came when you entered high school… then the first boyfriend— the break up was worse. You didn’t show up to school for a week.

They were all protective in their own ways, you loved them for it but sometimes truly hated it. Quinn was protective in a way with words, a threatening sentence towards somebody and they froze… wondering if it was true or he was giving out wordless threats. Jack was protective in a physical way, he always had been. Sometimes it scared you: the way he easily got himself into trouble for you.

Luke though was different, being your twin. He was a mix between the both of them but usually it was never with the other person— it was with you. While Quinn was glaring at the person and speaking lowly to them or Jack was throwing them against a wall or throwing punches, Luke was standing beside you, making sure you were okay, protecting your feelings.

So when hockey came around and more boys came into your life because of them, one night they all came into your room. Well, Jack and Quinn did— Luke was already lying on your bed, in his pajamas under your comforter as you sat at your desk trying to study. Key word, try. Luke barged into your room an hour before, freaking out about some girl from school.

The trying to study went out the window when the other two barged in and got comfortable by their brother, you tried to focus on the paper you had been staring at for the past ten minutes but their eyes were burning a hole into you.

“What?” You spat, slamming your pencil down and turning to look at them, Jack raised his eyebrows at you as Quinn shook his head. Luke was scrolling on his phone, you assumed he stopped being a pussy and was texting the girl.

Jack raised his shoulders, “Just wanted to come hang with our favorite sister, is that such a problem?”

“I’m your only sister… and you never wanna hang out with me.”

Quinn frowned for a second, Jack’s eyebrows raised at the sudden bluntness in your words. And Luke’s fingers paused on his screen, side eyeing you.

You stared at them, noticing their facial expressions. “Not like that! Just you guys are so busy with hockey—“

“You’re busy with cheer.” Jack cut you off, sitting up a bit. You saw the panic on his face, god, he was so dramatic sometimes.

“I know.” You gritted out, leaning back into your chair, “I’m just saying— it doesn’t matter—“

“Yes it does.” Quinn jumped in, you glanced at him. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Oh my god. Because I didn’t mean it like that! What do you want?” You sighed out, throwing your arms out in front of you. Quinn looked at his brothers quickly, you bit your inner lip watching as it seemed like they were communicating with their eyes— right in front of you.

You love them, so much. More than you could ever put into words but sometimes it felt like you were on the outside looking in, Luke always tried to include you but sometimes it was so hard. They spent so much time together, while you were out at practice for hours after they got home from theirs, them sitting on the back porch together. You were too tired to bother saying hi to them, going straight to the shower and then your bed. They had a different bond, as boys and brothers, and players— something you’d never be apart of.

They were your brothers but it was different.

Swallowing roughly as Jack nodded sharply to his older brother, you straightened in your seat. They all looked at you, eyes softening just a bit.

“We just wanted to say… you know, us joining teams and all soon— our hockey friends are… y’know…”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head with a shrug. “No, I don’t know. Use your words.”

Jack grabbed a pillow from behind him and chucked it at you, grunting quietly as you stopped it from smacking you in the head.

“You know… off limits.”

“Ew. I don’t want your hockey friends.”

That night, you and your brothers ended up in the kitchen arguing back and forth as your parents watched… attempting to soften it.

But you were right, you never batted an eye at them. Not when you walked in from practice and said hey to your brothers, nodding your head politely at their friends sitting in the living room, watching as you went into the kitchen where your mom stood in front of the stove cooking dinner, you grabbed a water and went up to your bathroom. Not when they attempted to flirt with you, ignoring your brother’s warnings to not do that.

Before you knew it, Quinn and Jack were in the NHL— something they’d always dreamed of. Quinn was in Vancouver, something that broke your heart.. him being so far away from home and his family. But nothing beat watching him score his friend goal of his NHL career, nor did it with watching Jack’s.

It was the year Luke got drafted, it was the year you parted away from your home, under the same roof as your twin brother and parents to leave to join California all stars. Of course, you came home for his draft! How could you not?

You could never miss the moment when the announcer said his name, Luke Hughes for the New Jersey Devils— the same one as Jack. How Jack practically leaped over you throwing himself around your brother with excitement, tears filled your eyes as you were squeezed between the three of them.

The four of you were all away from home and it was really hard sometimes, you guys were so close but couldn’t be more proud of each other. You texted the group chat every morning and night, especially when you knew you day would be busy, just to say something to them. It was harder with Luke, you and him had never been separated since your mom gave birth to the two of you, it took a long time where you or him didn’t burst into a tantrum when you were separated for more than a few hours… sleepovers rarely happened because by bed time you or him were running to your friends parents crying for each other.

Luke called every day, knowing your schedule after the first week of you and him being separated. You and him tried your best to talk as much as you did before but you weren’t used to him being so busy in the NHL and he wasn’t so used to you being miles away from him and different time zones. Plus, the training the two of you went through and barely had the energy to pick up your phone once you walked through your front door.

The first year was the hardest.

But eventually, you and your brothers were used to the difference. It didn’t make it any harder but it worked. They constantly bugged you about any boys, especially when one time some random boy answered your phone. Sitting in your living room. His face popped up on the group face time where your brothers stared at him in shock for a few moments.. questioning if they accidentally added somebody else but it was the siblings group chat.

It was a friend from cheer.

You honestly hadn’t truly dated somebody since high school, before the world only knew you as the Hughes sister. You attempted to go out on a date from somebody you met at the grocery store, seeing it as somewhat of a normal interaction. Not meeting them at an event or on social media. They didn’t recognize you as a Hughes or being related to the famous hockey brothers.

And then….

“I’m a huge fan of your brothers work.”

You were a bit dramatic about it, sighing loudly but nodded and apparently that gave him a signal to keep talking about them— he even asked if you could call them! The rest of the date until you cut him off as the waiter began approaching the table, quickly turning around when she heard the sharpness in your voice and stood up, walking away.

He yelled for the whole restaurant to hear about the check!

You rolled your eyes as you pulled open the doors with tears in your eyes, opting to call Luke but knew he would just run into Jack’s room so you kept your phone in your purse as you walked through the streets of California.

After that night, you declined anybody who asked to take you out. Just imagining yourself sitting in the middle of a restaurant of somebody asking something about them.

You never went on a date again after and never told your brothers. They pushed you that night when you never called after the date, you decline the first call as you laid in your bed, curled into yourself watching your comfort movie, tear stained cheeks. They immediately blew up your phone and told you to answer right now.

Sending a quick text and told them you were about to take a shower, which you did so you could look a little less crazy and the crying wasn’t noticeable. You made up some lie that all he did was talk about himself, your phone set on the counter of your bathroom as you lazily did your nighttime routine. And for some odd reason, they believed you when you lied to them. You never were a good liar and they always knew your twitch when you did lie, but apparently they couldn’t see when your face was in and out of the camera.

It was one night, your roommate who you cheered with wanted to go to a hockey game. She didn’t know anything about the game until she met you, sitting with you as you watched your brothers play and answered her questions or explained what was happening. She soon learned most of it and enjoyed for when she would hear your yell from the living room that the game was starting.

“There’s a game here! It’s like an hour away, we should go.”

That’s how you found yourself at a San Jose Sharks game, your brothers couldn’t believe you were going to be cheering another team on but you just rolled your eyes and told them the Canucks and Devils would always be the team you cheered for the most. It was a good game, your friend in her element as she could watch the game and actually understand… only a couple times did she lean over and ask you to explain something.

Then… you and her were at every Sharks game, as long as you were both free. She literally cancelled a date one night when she learned there was a game, you convinced her to just invite him and you would stay home.

“No way, girl. This is our thing.”

You ended up buying a third ticket the morning of the game and gave it to her, she kissed your cheek with a bright smile. You kind of regretted it when he arrived at the rink and the two were snuggled into each and you sat by yourself, arms crossed around your chest trying to warm yourself— usually, she was snuggled into your side, shivering about the coldness she was not used to. You guessed you’d just gotten used to her warmth.

After the game, you stood behind them as they talked, “I don’t wanna go home.” He smiled at her, intertwining their hands, you rolled your eyes as she said that for the hundredth time of the night.

Digging in your purse, you grabbed your car keys and chucked them at her back. She stopped and turned around sharply, squinting her eyes at you, looking down at your keys at her feet, she slowly picked them up with furrowed eyebrows.

“Take my car and go enjoy the rest of the night.” You smiled softly at her, her smile somehow grew larger.

The guy beside her furrowed his eyebrows, “What about you?”

“I’ll just call an uber.”

Which was the stupidest thing you could’ve offered, they left you quickly after that which was an hour ago. You were still sitting outside of the rink, of course no Ubers were available, they were all picking everybody else up from the arena. A pout formed on your lips when the first one cancelled, then when the second one did— tears formed in your eyes.

Sitting on the curb, curled into yourself as you leaned your chin against your knees watching as players drove out of the arena! You could’ve cried again but you didn’t, just watched as people walked by without blinking at you. You checked your friend’s location, you could tell she was still out with the boy so you kept the messages quiet.

You were watching as people cheered across the street, all dressed in Sharks gear. Smiling softly as somebody jumped onto another person’s back with a loud ‘whoop!’

Gravel crunched beside you, you snapped your head up and saw two boys staring down at you, they looked your age. You squinted your eyes at them as they blinked at you, like you were some animal that was standing in the middle of a road.

“Yes?” You questioned slowly, one of them straightened their back when you spoke.

“Are you okay?” The other asked, hands shoved into his pockets. Their hair was damp, they were dressed nice. You moved your head so the light wasn’t blocking their faces anymore and recognized them as two players on the Sharks.

Will Smith and Macklin Celebrini.

“Oh, yeah. I’m just waiting for the Ubers to start picking people up again.” You shrugged with a tight smile, Macklin nodded softly as Will ran his hand through his damp hair, the light shining on the side of his face, he looked like an angel… you clamped your parted lips shut as you stared at him.

Macklin stepped beside the other boy, “Do you need a ride? Ubers usually take a long time to start getting people after a game.”

You sighed and looked down at your phone, you were usually in bed by now and your phone was at ten percent.

“I don’t live around here and I can’t ask for you to drive an hour after playing a hockey game.” You said softly, looking up at them again. They both shrugged, Will jerked his head and offered his hand.

“We don’t mind, c’mon.” You looked at his outstretched hand carefully before taking it with your soft hands, he squeezed yours before pulling you up, you squeezed his back before slowly pulling away. Smiling as you looked between them as they watched you tug your jacket closer to you,

“Uh, you guys have a car right?” You asked after a few moments of you three standing there, Macklin’s eyebrows shot up before he nodded.

You thought that would be the first and last time you ever saw the two, besides at the games. But that night, when Will walked you to your door, you did your nighttime routine scrolling through his social media. Something you’d never done. And it was noticeable, when your finger accidentally double tapped a picture from too long ago. You screamed as your tooth brush stopped it’s movement in your mouth as you quickly took the like back and spit your toothpaste out, running int your roommates room, ignoring the guy sitting on her bean bag.

The next morning, as you scrolled through your notifications on your balcony, a smile graced your face. He followed you.

That was just the beginning, soon after a couple dms back and forth… Will seeked you out after the game with no Macklin by his side which surprised you.

“Wanna go get some celebratory food?” He asked softly, with that boyish grin that made your stomach flip. Your friend squealed from the other side of the car, you and Will laughed at her as she muttered an apology.

You leaned closer to him, tugging on the bottom of his jacket. “I’d love too… but I do have a friend that needs a ride home.”

“She can drive, I’ll take you home.” Will shot back with a smirk, you shook your head biting back a smile and called out your friends name who rounded the car with a wide smile, Will stepped back as you threw you keys at her.

“Have fun!” She sung with a giggle, watching as the two of you walked away, fingers brushing against each other before he flexed his hand and grabbed onto yours, she squealed again before shutting your door and driving off as Will lead you to his car.

It was sudden, the change between you and him. Before, you knew it was never about being just friends but there was also no rush to be anything more. It had been a few months since the first time you and Will went out, now he was coming over and spending the nights accidentally, the two of you falling asleep watching a movie or staying up late trying to finish putting together the legos you and him bought that day when he went shopping with you, sleep was written all over his face and you told him he could stay.

Macklin came over a lot, you and him became really close too. Your roommate got along with both of them, the four of you playing uno after dinner that you and Will made in your kitchen earlier. You soon realized how competitive Mack was, almost as competitive as your friend. You and Will would watch the two of the bicker about the cards they just put down, you just leaned into Will’s touch and waited for them to finish— sometimes you and him would have to intervene.

You met the rest of the team at a barbecue he invited you to, that was the night he took you to his home and kissed you.

You felt bad. Not telling your family about him but god you loved having him without anyone knowing, but now Mack and your friend knew… and the whole Sharks team. Now you just felt like the worst sister ever. But not even did your parents know, until your mom walked into your apartment with your dad shuffling in behind her tiredly, it was supposed to be a surprise, you had a cheer event coming up and they wanted to be there.

Your father jumped when your mother screamed, you jumped up in your bed hearing the yell.

Will stood shirtless, only in his pajama pants, in your kitchen in front of your stove as he attempted to make the two of you breakfast. You threw off the comforter, running out into the living to see your parents standing in the entryway in shock as Will stared back at the.

Your mom turned towards you when you gasped, standing in his t-shirt and your pajama shorts.

“Oh my God.” You heard your friend say, assuming she came out because of the murder like scream from your mom.

The breakfast was awkward. You ended up ordering from somewhere so Will didn’t have to make more food for everybody, he attempted to leave but your mother forced him to sit at the table. It was halfway through the silent eating, the only sound being your friend’s loud gulps of her drinking. You and her kept glancing at each other every few minutes, your dad was staring at Will as he sat beside you.

“So…”

Your mom broke the silence, “How’d you two meet?”

You and Will smiled softly, turning towards each other and that’s when your parents softened up. Especially, when your whole body softened up when you looked at the boy beside you, of course they already knew who he was before that day but after that morning, they knew him personally and loved him. They were happy it was him.

You made your parents promise not to tell your brothers, they understood but told you to tell them soon… You wanted to, but you didn’t even know how to bring it up anymore— you and Will had been together for a while. Neither of you had posted anything about each other, obsessed with having nobody having their eyes on you as a couple. Nobody had seen you guys together when you went out, luckily. But you knew your luck would run out soon.

Now the hockey season was over and the family immediately made the plans to go to the lake house.

You were standing in the kitchen beside your mom cutting up vegetables for dinner, music was playing softly throughout the house as the boys sat at the table playing a card game. You and your mom would laugh when one of them would groan loudly. It was a perfect day, everyone went out on the boat together, the five of you stayed out there almost all day.. eventually you took your parents back but you and your brothers went back out. Once you came back, your mom was starting to prep for dinner, you and your brothers took showers before joining your parents in the kitchen area.

It was perfect.

Until Luke opened his mouth, “Who’s pretty boy?“

You stopped your movements, everyone paused for a moment to look at him confused. Glancing over your shoulder, Luke’s hand was wrapped around your phone, bringing the phone closer to his face.

You slammed the knife down on the cutting board and darted towards him, snatching the phone from his hands. Now everybody was watching, cards down on the table and Ellen stepped to stand behind you.

“Y’know, Luke it was cute when we were 12 and you snooped through my shit but it’s not anymore.” You gritted out, gripping onto your phone by your side.

“Language!” Both your parents sighed out, eyes snapping between their twins, Luke’s jaw dropped at your words and the scowl on your face. Jack and Quinn looked between the two of you with caution, wondering what the hell was going on. They both just assumed it was some twin fight.

Luke looked over your shoulder, your mom shrugged. “Luke, you know it’s not nice to go through your sisters phone.” She said softly, putting her hand on your elbow and pulled you back, closer to her. She practically felt the anger coming off of you, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed.

“But who’s pretty boy? He said ‘I love you’!” Luke exclaimed, you felt both of your parents look at you with soft eyes.

This is not how you wanted your brothers to find out.

Jack shot up in his seat, bee lining for your phone in your hand. He reached over your body, not expecting a hand to his face and pushing him into the table. Ellen gasped from behind you, gritting out your name.

“No, mom. I’m tired of them thinking they have to know everything!” You cried out, she softly rubbed the back of your arm with a knowing look, the three brothers froze at your words.

Jack grunted as he fell back into his seat, “So there is something to know?” Quinn kicked him under the table when you rubbed your forehead in annoyance, he was always the one to soften to argument or fight between the four of you.. not always, mostly. Only when the four of you were older, when you were kids it was all of you throwing punches and legs.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You snapped your head to your mom, “Mom!”

She gave you a look.

“Oh my god.” You muttered and sat down as she ushered you towards the chair at the head of the able, across from your father and between Jack and Luke. She looked back at the kitchen before taking a spot beside her husband who reached out and grabbed her hand.

You put your phone under your thigh, ignoring the buzz against your leg. Your brothers stared at you, Luke had hurt in his eyes knowing there was something hidden between the two of you. You couldn’t even act like there ever had been, you kept plenty of secrets between your brothers— never Luke though.

Quinn waited patiently, watching you carefully as you picked at your nails. Jack wasn’t looking at you.

“I have a boyfriend…”

Chaos erupted around the table, you dropped your head into your hands with sigh as their voice overlapped with each other and your parents voiced trying to calm the boys down.

“Who is it?” Jack turned towards you, seemingly remembering what this was about. “Who’s pretty boy?” He mocked, lowering his voice and you wanted to smack him. You almost did but your mom said you name softly, she warned how no matter what or who.. this would be the outcome of keeping this from them. Now it was time to find out how they would react about who.

You bit your bottom lip, “Will Smith.”

“Will Smith?! Men and black Will Smith?!” Jack yelled, sitting up, almost out of his chair. You slowly looked at him with a confused face. “He’s like fifty! This is illegal! Oh my god!”

You kicked his leg, “Ow!”

“Will Smith? San Jose Sharks?” You spelt it out for him, gesturing with your hands, the room went silent. Deadly silent. You couldn’t even bother to look at any of them, the dramatics of them having betrayal written across their face. You stared at the scratch on the table from the first summer at the house.

Then chaos erupted around the table, Quinn and Jack snapped their heads towards each other— eyebrows flying up so fast you bit back a chuckle, Luke’s eyes were on you though.. eyebrows raised and parted lips.

“This is absurd!” Jack yelled turning towards you finally remembering who this was about. “Since when?” His voice softened a little, eyebrows pinched together like it was all coming to him, why his little brother was much quieter.

You swallowed glancing between all of them, “A while.”

It went oddly quiet. A quiet you’ve never been used to, not with them or your home in California. You and your roommate were loud together, and growing up it was always chaos. You heard Luke swallow roughly as he clenched his fist in front of him as he looked away from your face, Quinn just stared blankly at you.

Jack broke the silence with a scoff, “You know how hockey guys are?”

You laughed bitterly, “What? Just because you three hoe around doesn’t mean he does.”

Your parents yelled your name, you rolled your eyes as your brothers looked at you with shock.

“He’s nice to me and we love each other.” You fought even though they had pretty much been silent, “I’m sorry for not telling you but this is exactly why.”

“You know we’d support you about anything… even if it was a hockey player— you know that was just a joke.”

“Bullshit.”

Ellen gritted your name out, Jim giving up on correcting you a long time ago.

“Listen, when we told you that.. yes we were being for real but not actually! Not so for real that you can’t come to us for months.” Jack said, leaning forward with a brotherly look but also anger.

Luke stayed silent.

You swallowed, “Luke?”

“I don’t— I can’t believe you kept something from me for this long.”

The room went silent again, everyone’s eyes on Luke as he looked at you. You swallowed roughly, your throat tightening. “I’m sorry.”

There was nothing else you could say, your brothers said nothing either. What else could they say? The family separated, well more of you leaving the table to go to your room and call Will while your family still sat at the table, as soon as your door shut you heard the hushed voices of your brothers and your parents trying to calm them down.

It was another hour until you appeared from the stairs, your brothers gone onto the back porch while your parents continued the paused dinner. Ellen looked up from the stove at the sound of your soft footsteps, smiling softly she gestured for you to go outside.

Holding back an eye roll you walked towards the back door and opened it gaining the attention of your older brothers, stopping their conversation. You felt small under their gaze, hand still on the handle like you might run back into the house. Quinn noticed and scooted to the side on the small couch on the porch and jerked his head, you smiled softly and sat beside him, the oldest dropped his hand onto your shoulder and squeezed it.

“So,” Jack quickly said, smacking his hand onto his thigh and looked at you with a look you’ve seen one too many times. “When do we get to meet him?” He tapped his fingers against the table, they all looked towards you, waiting.

You messed with the strings of your devils hoodie, “I don’t know, didn’t really plan on seeing him until I went back to California.”

“You can invite him to the house, Sissy.”

It was a nickname they’d call you when you were younger, it kind of drifted when you grew up, it lingered with your parents but they’d call you anything but that— unless they were feeling nice.

“I don’t know… he probably has a bunch of plans.”

“Well, ask him anyway. Just for a weekend or something.”

Two weeks later, Will was flying into Michigan and you had never been more nervous as he texted you he landed, you were sitting in the pick up line, constantly messing with something in your car or looking at yourself in the mirror or camera on your phone. You were currently looking in your console, it was messy and you cringed but couldn’t think of that when a soft knock interrupted your thoughts.

You flinched, snapping your head up and Will stood at your window with a large smile on his face— you smiled widely back. He glanced down at the handle and your eyebrows raised as you blindly reached for the handle to unlock the door.

Will slid into the seat smoothly, tossing his duffel bag into the back seat while also leaning over the middle console to pull you closer and you melted into his touch, awkwardly pulling him into a hug but it fit. He kissed your hair, than your neck, and pulled away, hand on your neck and pressed his lips against yours.

You made a small noise of relief in the back of your throat, he smiled on your lips. “Missed you so much, baby.”

You kissed him one more time before you fell back into your seat and turned your car back on, he buckled into his seat and immediately reached for your hand, your intertwined hands rested on the console the whole ride— music playing from your phone connected to the Bluetooth.

Will and you caught up on the past two busy weeks, he was spending time with family and so were you, plus a lot of the boys friends were in town like usual— luckily only Trevor and Cole were around for the weekend Will would be. You could deal with them.

You’d known the two as much as you know you’re brothers, they treated you like a sister and they were just more brothers.

“You nervous?” You asked, pulling into the familiar area of your Michigan home, glancing towards him.

Will shook his head, only humming in response. “You’re squeezing my hand pretty hard.”

He immediately loosed his grip, you chuckled bringing your joined hands to your lips and kissed them softly, Will responded by rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, you kept his hand rested against your lips, Will felt his shoulders relax even as you pulled into a neighborhood and he knew it was yours.

“I think I’m gonna pass out.”

You shook your head, suppressing a smile as you drove down your street seeing the large house your brothers bought together all those years ago.

“It’s gonna be fine, they’ll barely talk to us.”

Will shook his head, leaning back into his seat with tense muscles. “No, like seriously, why am I doing this?”

“Because you love me?”

“Yes, very much. But—“

You pulled into the driveway, “Listen, they seriously—“

“Baby, I’m not scared of them.”

You stopped, “Then… what is it?”

“No, I am terrified of them actually… but like I’ve— I’ve played against them and looked up to them— fuck, not like— I don’t want you to think I’m dating you for them— I swear…. Oh my god. Take me back to the airport— I—“ Will rambled, you covered your mouth trying to hide your smile and he thought you were crying.

“Oh my god— oh my god. Baby, I’m—“

A laugh cut through his panicking, he stopped. “Will, you have to chill or they will make fun of you and they’re sitting on the front porch, you assumed they’d been waiting since you left after they begged to come with.

He actually slid down into the seat, you laughed loudly. “I’m making fun of you. Will, get up.” You grabbed his shoulder, he groaned as he straightened. “C’mon, scaredy cat.”

“Don’t call me that.” He grunted as you both opened the door, he reached bag and pulled his bag from the backseat.

Your three brothers just sat on the porch, watching as you and Will walked up the steps, his hand intertwined with yours— they didn’t feel or sense the death grip he had on you. Smiling softly, you tugged him to your side as he attempted to stand behind you.

You knew it wasn’t because he was nervous, that’s where he always stood with you. Pressed against behind you and arms wrapped around you, sometimes around your waist but usually wrapped around your shoulders and your hands held onto his wrists, every few minutes pressing your lips to his forearms.

“Brothers.”

“Sister.”

You chuckled, “You guys all know each other…. So I don’t need to do introductions.”

They all said their hello’s, you squeezed Will’s hand three times and he quickly mimicked. “So, I’m gonna show him the room and then we’ll do dinner?”

“Okay, we’re grilling.” Jack said, tipping his beer to the two of you as you stepped back with a wide smile. The three of them couldn’t deny the way their chests warmed at the sight.

But Quinn paused as your hand went on the door handle and turned, “Wait…” And you did, hand frozen against the handle and both of you slowly looked at your oldest brother. “What’s his room?”

“Mine?” You stated but it sounded more like a question, all of their eyebrows shot up and their backs straightened.

“Your room?” Luke choked out.

You rolled your eyes and opened the door, “Ugh, yes! Its only for a weekend and he always sleeps in my bed back in California—“

“We don’t need to know that.” Quinn cut you off, eyes squeezed like he was trying to forget that. “Just… no foolishness.”

You laughed, “Yes, dad.”

After showing Will your room and laying down for a few minutes, body on top of his to calm him down, the two of you stepped out onto the back porch where all the boys were, and your parents sat on the couch together, listening to something Trevor was saying.

But they all stopped when you shut the sliding glass door, Will immediately grabbed onto your hand. “Hey.”

Trevor and Cole lit up at the sight of you, Cole reached out and pulled you onto the couch next to him, your hand yanked away from Will’s, he could’ve sworn his heart was about to stop as he made eye contact with all three of your brothers and you fell into a conversation with Cole.

“C’mon.” Jack clapped a hand against the younger boy’s shoulder, Will joined them by the grill, hands in his pockets awkwardly and shy. Will could admit he’d never been shy or this awkward before, not even when he met your pants— and that was awkward.

But after they talked for just a few minutes, Will’s hands were out of his pockets and his laughter was his usual one that you loved, a small smile gracing your face even though your back was faced towards him— Trevor and Cole needing your full attention like usual.

By the time dinner was finished, Will was back by your side at the table, his focus was on something Trevor was saying from across the table, hands thrown around in the air as all the boys pitched stuff into the conversation— something about hockey, that’s all you knew before you drew yourself out of the conversation, turning to your parents. But Will’s hand rested on your thigh, your hand on top of his, he occasionally squeezed.

Soon, your mom yawned and your dad took her to bed, leaving you and the boys, you leaned back into your seat and brought your leg up.

“So…”

Cole said, leaning forward to see you, you rested your head against your hand, just observing their conversation until he did that and now everyone was looking at you.

“What?”

“How’d you two meet?” He asked, a smirk on his face, the question gained a lot of commotion, Trevor giggled. Your brothers leaned back into their seats, eyes on the two of you.

“Uh—“

“Well—“

Will smiled, “Go ahead.”

And you simply told them, how he found you on the side of the street, curled into yourself like a homeless person. Trevor laughed as he imagined the sight, you kicked him from beneath the table, and how he found you after every game until one time he finally asked you out.

“Still can’t believe you kept it from us for so long.”

You swallowed, Will squeezed your thigh. “Yeah, well it was easier being so far away.”

Jack smiled, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, we like you, Smith.”

Will chuckled, “Thanks.”

The weekend with Will went smooth, a day spent on the water, skin burnt and limbs tired as everyone walked back into the house. You and Will fell asleep on the couch together, his head pressed against your stomach and arm draped across your waist, Quinn found you two when he went to find y’all for dinner, he smiled softly before waking you up. The next day, it was calm, games played throughout the day, movie night before you brought Will up to your room as the boys went out on the lake for a late night swim. You were glad they left, you felt wrong doing anything with them in the house— too scared they would walk in.

But Will couldn’t leave without feeling himself inside of you.

The next day, you went on the lake for a short time and spent the day in the yard with your brothers and Will, they welcomed him the open arms… by the time he left— there were inside jokes between the boys and numbers exchanged.

Jack has tried telling y/n that she doesn't have to keep the old clothes she's had for years. He'd buy her new stuff, in fact he has bought her new stuff and she wears it but not in replace of her old clothes.

There's a few pairs of sweatpants that are not only so old that the hems are threatening to fray and the elastic of the waistband has lost all elasticity meaning she can't wear them without yanking the drawstrings. It also doesn't help that she's lot a bit of weight since she bought them so even that takes some effort to make sure they don't fall down.

She comes from a background that isn't as wealthy and used to money as Jack, she gets the most of her purchases wanting the value for her money. So unless it's completely inappropriate or unwearable, she'll be wearing the clothes till they can't be repaired to wear.

But...her insisting on wearing them does have it's advantages for him.

Like easy access.

Jack smirks returning home knowing Luke is trapped doing some extra media stuff for the NHL channel rather than just for the Devils media.

Meaning that it's just y/n and Jack in the apartment for the majority of the day.

"Hello baby." Jack greets finding y/n washing the dishes, they have a dishwasher but she insists it's soothing to just wash stuff by hand herself. He’s sure it’s another way of her subconscious thinking about money and how to not overspend unnecessarily but he won’t start an argument about.

He's immediately pressed his body up against her own making sure his intentions are clear as he hugs her.

"Hi, Jacky." Y/n smiles still elbow deep in the water while Jack's teeth nip at her neck. "I just need to finish a couple more things then I'm all yours."

Jack hums fingers shifting and finding the drawstring before he pulls them and one tug sees them drop to the ground.

"Jack-"

"You finish up, baby. I'm just getting a head start." Jack smirks straying his hand down to her pussy while feeling her thighs press together before he tsks kicking her legs apart making the water rock from her movement as his fingers spread her open and he breaths against her ear. "Keep cleaning baby."

He loves catching her in a compromising position and y/n complies despite some reservations of confidence.

"Good girl." Jack praises gently before he smirks and sighs a little at the feeling of her getting wetter and wetter from just the touch of his fingers. He toys with her waiting for her to finish the last dish before he pulls her back and then spins her to bend her over the island counter.

"What about Luke-"

"He's busy for the day. Don't worry baby. I wouldn't risk anyone seeing you like this." Jack chuckles pushing the old oversized t-shirt that she recently brought back from her parents house saying it was an old summer camp t-shirt from her counselling years as a teen.

He had initially questioned why she brought it back but he knew the answer would be that she wanted to get use out of it. So instead he didn't bother with asking.

"You know you got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen in my life." Jack declares as she feels his fingers spreading her open for his view before he leans in and takes a lick, savouring the taste of her as she moans from the stimulation. "You are so fucking perfect."

Jack moves back up deciding one taste will have to be enough because his dick absolutely takes priority right now.

"Jack please." Y/n whines while he smirks loving nothing more than to hear this woman beg for him.

"Alright, baby. I'm not making you wait." Jack states kicking off his own shorts before he pulls her hips towards himself a little then pushes into her pussy, not stopping till he's hit the hilt. "You need any time baby?"

He can feel her straining to take him whole so suddenly with admittedly very little prep or forewarning. She probably wasn't even expecting him back because he did come home early.

"No." Y/n breathes and that's all Jack needs, she given him the ok to be as rough as he likes.

Jack pulls back and starts thrusting back into her, immediately earning uncensored moans. After all if Luke won't be back she's got no one to be quiet for and Jack gets more riled up by her being vocal.

Y/n can't even keep herself from her eyes rolling back. She's convinced only Jack could fit so perfectly, it's like he was made for her. His dick manages miracles and he hits the right spots from every angle with precision seemingly without even trying.

Her g-spot takes the abuse before he strikes her cervix sending the mixed signal of pleasure sparkling pain up her stomach. Even the mere stretch of her to fit him is practically making her shudder with the nudging build up to her orgasm. The feeling of his length just moving in and out of her, his dick brushing her insides with every roll of his hips.

"Oh fuck, you feel so incredible." Jack grunts feeling lost in this woman, he honestly is certain there will never be enough of her. He has a hunger and thirst for her that will never be fulfilled. "You almost there baby? I want to feel you cum."

Eventually Jack can feel her starting to tighten up around him as a forewarning of her impending orgasm. His hand reaches down under her hips and to her pussy, locating her clit like his fingers are settling home. They rub and pinch at the bundle of nerves, before she moans, a rush of wetness soaking his hand and literally leaving a puddle on the floor as she squirts with her high.

Her body trembles as he chases his own orgasm and prolonging her own as he keeps hitting every spot to bring more waves of pleasure over her with her muscles taut with her back arched and y/n's vision swim with white dots. The final strike is feeling the heat of Jack's cum filling her practically sends her into a second wave, a cry passing her lips as Jack continues rutting into her like he's got a mission to force it into her permanently.

Slowly he stops his thrusts, keeping himself planted inside her for a few beats as he finally slides out of her and groans at the side of her dripping with his cum and her thighs soaked from her squirting.

"You ok there baby?" Jack asks gently rubbing her back for a second while y/n completely melts down on the counter, her heavy breaths coming out of her in rapid and uneven sequence.

Y/n only manages a very weak "mhm" while Jack smiles managing to lean over the counter enough to kiss her cheek.

"Don't worry, baby. I got you." Jack states, though he cant help but give her ass a gentle smack watching her pussy quiver from the stimulation as he moves to grab her sweatpants that were discarded still on the floor by the sink.

He smirks a little as he gets her feet into the cuffed ankles before he slides them up with y/n voicing a protest though she still hasn't moved an inch.

"Baby, these sweatpants are so old. Do you really care if they have cum on them?" Jack scoffs managing to reach under her to tie the drawstrings to secure them on her again. "We just had sex in the kitchen, I've got to clean up in here before I get you showered. So the sweatpants are sacrificed."

"But they're my favourite."

"I'll wash them myself baby." Jack promises before gives her ass another tap, this time softened by the layer over her skin. "Anyway, I like the thought of you leaking for a bit."

"Ew, Jack." Y/n whines but her hiding her flustered face gives away she's not that disgusted by his words.

"Alright, let's get you moved...probably best to just put you to bed, I'll clean up." Jack sighs managing to move her around before he's scooped her up.

"You give me no heads up. I wasn't even dressed for it." Y/n pouts earning an eye roll.

"You could wear a potato sack, baby. I'd still fuck you like my life depended on it. Plus you love these old clothes, so I'm going to make sure they get my love too." Jack states cockily while y/n grumbles mumbling something about them now being stained. "You could always wear the stuff I've bought for you."

"I do wear the stuff you've bought for me! I just wear this stuff too." Y/n argues before she's placed down on the bed. "I'm sore."

"Well I'm not done with you. I just didn't want to leave a trail of you leaking through the apartment for me to clean up." Jack states while y/n's eyes widen. "You really thought we were getting one round only? Luke won't be back for hours, baby."

Jack grins leaning over and kissing her properly before nodding at her.

"I'll grab your some water. I'm gonna clean up while you rehydrate and then we go again." Jack declares while y/n groans. "Don't act like you won't be moaning my name again in 10 minutes and begging me for more, y/n."

Y/n practically straights her eyes up at the use of her actual name since Jack only uses it when he means business and rarely is it because of sex.

He's gone and back with a bottle of water within a few minutes presumably taking longer to clean up a little before he sits with her for a moment.

There's a thought that sometimes crosses his mind of ripping those old clothes off of her but he knows that would probably make her cry rather than turn her on so he'd never do it. Plus there is the advantages to her keeping those clothes that got beyond just her happiness.

"You know the clothes may not fit and they might be the oldest and most worn clothes I've seen. But there is something nice about them being so easy to get off of you." Jack states while y/n smiles taking a mouthful of water before placing it on the side and lying back as she swallows. "Is that my invitation?"

"I hope so." Y/n laughs earning a hum as she feels Jack's hands go to her drawstrings again while she's torn between the idea of a second round feeling so good and knowing she's going to regret it tomorrow, even one round has started to set in with a slight ache but overpowering that with more sex is absolutely more appealing.

"I better not hear complaints about this tomorrow." Jack warns as he pulls the joggers off again, the sight of her pussy still coated in his cum almost being enough to make him drool. "Because I'm about to wreck you this time."

Even after days of being there, the realization still felt unreal, and as you walked along the pathway between the buildings with your board tucked beneath your arm, the cold air brushing your cheeks, you found yourself staring around like someone who had snuck in rather than someone who belonged.

Your qualifiers were the next day. Which meant your brain had chosen the worst possible time to replay every trick you had ever failed.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the person coming around the corner until you nearly walked straight into them.

Hands caught your shoulders before the collision fully happened.

“Whoa—careful.”

You looked up, ready to apologize automatically, but the words stalled somewhere in your throat when you realized exactly who you had almost crashed into.

Dark hair slightly messy, familiar grin, the relaxed posture of someone who had spent most of his life in arenas full of noise and pressure.

Jack Hughes. For a second you just stared. He noticed.

“That reaction usually means people recognize me,” he said, clearly amused.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, shaking yourself out of it. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, good news,” he replied, still holding your shoulders lightly before letting go, “you didn’t take out Team USA’s hockey roster captain before the Games even started.”

“I feel like that would’ve been a terrible headline.”

“Definitely.”

Your snowboard shifted under your arm and his eyes dropped to it.

“You’re competing?”

“Yeah. Slopestyle.”

Jack nodded slowly, the way someone does when they are pretending, they understand something.

“Right. Obviously.”

“You have no idea what that is, do you?”

“Not even a little.”

You laughed despite the nervous knot in your stomach.

The strange thing about the Olympic Village was that fame worked differently there. In any other place you might have felt awkward talking to someone like him, but here everyone was an athlete who had spent years chasing something difficult, and that made conversations feel oddly equal.

He leaned casually against the wall beside you as if he had nowhere else to be.

“When do you compete?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Nervous?”

The question made you exhale.

“Yeah. A lot.”

Jack nodded like that answer made perfect sense.

“I think everyone here is,” he said, glancing around at the athletes passing through the walkway. “Anyone who says they aren’t is probably lying.”

There was something reassuring about the way he said it, simple and honest rather than dramatic. Then his expression shifted slightly, like he had just remembered something.

“Have you been to the dining hall yet?”

“Yes?”

“Then you know it’s chaos.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Come on,” he said, pushing away from the wall. “I was heading there anyway.”

You hesitated for about half a second before following.

The Olympic dining hall felt less like a cafeteria and more like a small city that had been packed inside a single building, with long rows of food stations, tables filled with athletes speaking dozens of different languages, and the constant clatter of trays and chairs that never seemed to stop. Jack grabbed two trays without asking and slid one toward you.

“Trust me,” he said, “if you hesitate in here you’ll starve.”

You moved along the food stations together, and the conversation came surprisingly easily, drifting from training schedules to travel stories to the weirdness of suddenly being surrounded by the best athletes in the world.

At one point he leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “Important rule of the Olympics.”

“What?”

“Never walk into this place with someone famous.”

You gave him a look.

“You are the famous person.”

“Exactly my point.”

As if on cue, someone across the room shouted his name. Jack closed his eyes briefly.

“Too late.”

You laughed as he quickly steered both of you toward a quieter corner table. For a few minutes it worked.

Then a voice cut through the noise. “JACK.” The tone carried the unmistakable confidence of a sibling who enjoyed embarrassing someone in public.

Jack’s shoulders dropped instantly.

“Oh no.”

Two guys approached your table, and even if you hadn’t known their faces already, the resemblance would have given it away immediately. The first one had an easy grin and the calm presence of someone used to leadership. The second looked younger, energetic in a way that suggested chaos followed him wherever he went. Jack gestured tiredly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The older brother looked at you first.

“You must be the reason he disappeared.”

Jack rubbed his forehead.

“Quinn, please don’t start.”

Quinn looked far too entertained. You introduced yourself, and before the conversation could settle, the younger one leaned forward with immediate excitement.

“You’re the snowboarder, right?”

You blinked.

“Uh… yeah.”

“That’s so cool,” he said quickly. “I watched a video where someone did like four flips and—”

Jack pointed at him.

“This is exactly why I avoided bringing you.”

Luke ignored him completely. “Do you do the rail things too?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s insane.”

Quinn sat down like he had fully decided to stay.

“So, when did you two meet?”

“We bumped into each other,” Jack said quickly.

Luke looked between both of you. “Literally or—”

“LUKE.”

You couldn’t stop laughing. It was impossible not to. The dynamic between the three of them felt like stepping into a family argument that had probably existed their entire lives.

Quinn smirked.

“Jack’s been watching snowboard videos all afternoon.”

Jack nearly choked on his drink.

“You did WHAT?” you asked.

“I was researching.”

“You typed ‘cool snowboard tricks,’” Quinn said calmly.

“I hate both of you.”

Luke grinned.

“You love us.”

Jack pointed at the door.

“Leave.”

Neither of them moved. You had a feeling this was going to happen a lot during the Olympics.

That night the village was quieter, though not completely silent, and the air outside carried that crisp cold that made every breath feel sharp and clear.

You couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t surprising considering your competition was only hours away, so you wandered down to the courtyard wrapped in your team jacket.

Snow fell gently under the glow of the lights.

“You know,” a voice said behind you, “I’m starting to think you appear everywhere.”

You turned to see Jack walking over, hands in his pockets.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you asked.

“Not a chance.”

He sat beside you on the bench, the nervous energy from earlier replaced with something calmer. For a moment neither of you said anything. Then he looked at you.

“You’re going to do great tomorrow.”

“You’ve never seen me ride.”

“I’ve seen enough interviews to know you care about it,” he said.

“That’s your scouting method?”

“Pretty solid one.”

You were about to reply when a loud crash echoed from inside the building. Jack closed his eyes immediately.

“That’s my brothers.”

Inside the hallway a small crowd had formed around Luke, who was holding a massive bag of Olympic trading pins while several athletes argued over them in different languages. Quinn stood nearby laughing like this was the greatest moment of his life. Security looked confused. You stared.

“They started an international pin war?”

“Sounds about right,” Jack said.

“Your family is chaos.”

“I know.”

But when he looked back at you, smiling slightly, the chaos didn’t seem to bother him much.

The next morning the mountain felt alive with noise. Music blasted from speakers, spectators waved flags, and cameras followed athletes preparing at the top of the course.

Your heart pounded as you strapped into your board, forcing yourself to focus on the snow beneath you rather than the thousands of eyes watching. At the bottom of the slope, three familiar figures stood out immediately. Luke had somehow acquired a massive USA flag. Quinn was filming everything. Jack was shouting encouragement loud enough for half the mountain to hear.

You covered your face briefly, laughing despite your nerves. Then you pushed off.

Speed built quickly beneath your board as the course rushed toward you, every jump and rail appearing exactly where you had imagined them during months of training.

For a moment everything felt quiet.

Jump. Spin. Land clean. Another feature. Another trick.

When you crossed the finish line the roar of the crowd crashed back all at once.

And down the hill, Jack looked like he had just witnessed the greatest moment in sports history. Luke was jumping. Quinn was shaking his head in amusement. You couldn’t stop smiling.

That night the Olympic Village felt like a celebration that stretched across every building and pathway, music echoing through the cold air while athletes relived their events over and over again.

You slipped outside for a moment of quiet, letting the cold settle your racing thoughts.

“Gold medallists shouldn’t hide at parties.”

You turned to see Jack walking toward you again.

“You watched the entire thing,” you said.

“Of course I did.”

He stopped a little closer than before.

“You were incredible.”

“You’re biased.”

“Very.”

For a moment neither of you moved, the lights from the village reflecting softly in the snow around you. Then he spoke again, slightly more hesitant.

“When all of this is over… would you want to go on a real date?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully.

“Maybe.”

He laughed softly.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

You smiled.

“How your game goes tomorrow.”

Jack shook his head, grinning.

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Motivation,” you said.

And somehow, in the middle of the Olympic chaos, something new had quietly begun.

Snow fell steadily over the Olympic Village the evening after your event, soft flakes catching in the glow of the tall lights and settling over the walkways that had been worn smooth by days of athletes moving between buildings. The place felt different now that your competition was finished, the pressure that had followed you for weeks finally easing enough that you could breathe without replaying every movement in your head.

Your medal still felt strange around your neck. You had taken it off three times already just to check that it was real.

Inside the main recreation building, the atmosphere was louder than usual. Music played somewhere near the far end of the room, athletes gathered around long tables trading pins and stories, and the kind of excited energy that only existed at the Olympics buzzed through the air.

You stood near one of the couches, talking to another snowboarder who had competed earlier that day. He was tall, blond, still wearing his national team jacket, and he was animatedly describing the moment he nearly missed a landing on the final jump.

“…and I swear I thought I was about to eat it in front of the entire world,” he said, laughing. “But somehow I saved it.”

You laughed with him, shaking your head.

“That’s the worst feeling, when you know mid-air that something’s wrong.”

“Exactly. Your second run though?” he said, pointing at you. “That was insane.”

You felt your face warm slightly.

“Adrenaline helps.”

“Seriously though,” he continued, “that grab on the third feature—”

Across the room, someone stopped walking. Jack had originally come into the building looking for you, though he probably wouldn’t have admitted that out loud. His hockey game earlier had been intense and loud and exhausting in the way Olympic games tended to be, and somewhere during the bus ride back to the village he had decided he wanted to see you.

He spotted you almost immediately. You were easy to find. Mostly because you were laughing. But also because you were standing very close to a guy Jack didn’t recognize. Jack slowed slightly. Luke, who had been walking beside him, noticed the sudden change in pace.

“What?” Luke asked, following his gaze.

“Oh,” Luke said after a second.

Jack didn’t answer. At the table nearby, Quinn looked up as well and immediately understood the situation. The snowboarder said something else that made you laugh again. Luke grinned slowly.

“Uh oh.”

Jack shot him a look. “What?”

“You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The staring thing.”

“I’m not staring.”

“You absolutely are.”

Quinn leaned back in his chair, watching with clear amusement.

“This should be interesting.”

Jack exhaled slowly. It wasn’t like he had any claim over you. You’d known each other for barely a few days, most of that time spent in chaotic Olympic hallways or joking conversations at meals. Still, something about the way the other guy leaned closer while talking made an uncomfortable feeling settle in his chest.

Luke nudged him.

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You’re jealous,” Luke repeated, clearly enjoying this far too much.

Jack ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m going over there.”

“Oh, this is going to go well,” Quinn muttered.

Meanwhile, you were still mid-conversation.

“…and then the judges took forever to post the scores,” the snowboarder was saying. “I thought my coach was going to lose his mind.”

“That sounds about right,” you said.

“You riding again tomorrow for the practice session?”

“Probably,” you replied. “I want to try something different on the last—”

A familiar voice interrupted.

“Hey.”

You turned. Jack stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, expression casual but just slightly tighter than usual.

“Oh,” you said, smiling immediately. “Hey.”

The snowboarder looked between the two of you.

“Hey,” he said politely.

Jack nodded once. There was a brief pause that felt longer than it actually was.

You gestured between them.

“This is—”

“Yeah,” Luke’s voice suddenly appeared from behind Jack. “We know who she is.”

You closed your eyes briefly.

“Of course you followed him.”

Luke stepped forward with a grin.

“Just observing.”

Quinn walked up a second later, clearly having no intention of missing this moment. The snowboarder blinked at the sudden arrival of three hockey players. Jack spoke again, trying to sound normal.

“How long have you guys been talking?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Like… five minutes?”

“Cool,” Jack said quickly.

Luke looked delighted. Quinn tried very hard not to laugh. The snowboarder glanced at you again.

“Well,” he said, sensing the strange energy forming, “I should probably go find my team.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said politely.

After he walked away, you turned back to Jack.

“…What was that?”

“What was what?” Jack asked.

“The weird interrogation vibe.”

“I didn’t interrogate him.”

Luke made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

You crossed your arms.

“Jack.”

He sighed.

“I just came to say hi.”

“While glaring at another snowboarder?”

“I was not glaring.”

“You absolutely were,” Quinn said calmly.

Jack turned toward him. “You are not helping.”

Luke leaned toward you slightly. “He’s jealous.”

“I am not jealous.” Jack groaned.

You looked at him for a moment, trying not to smile.

“Jack Hughes,” you said slowly, “are you jealous of a snowboarder.”

“I play in the NHL,” he said defensively. “Why would I be jealous of a snowboarder?”

You shrugged lightly.

“Maybe because he was talking to me.”

Luke slapped the table behind him. “Oh, that’s definitely it.”

 “Stop encouraging this.” Jack pointed at him.

Quinn stood up, stretching.

“Well,” he said casually, “I think our work here is done.”

Luke nodded immediately. “Yep.”

“Don’t leave,” Jack said.

Too late. Both of them were already walking away, laughing. The room suddenly felt quieter without them. You looked back at Jack, who seemed both embarrassed and slightly annoyed.

“You know,” you said, “you could’ve just come over normally.”

“I did come over normally.”

“You looked like you were about to challenge him to a duel.”

Jack huffed out a small laugh despite himself.

“I didn’t.”

“Little bit.”

For a moment neither of you spoke.

Then he glanced at you again.

“…Were you flirting with him?”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“I’m just asking.”

“You walked across an entire room to ask if I was flirting with someone.”

“I didn’t walk across the room for that,” he said quickly.

“Why did you then?”

Jack hesitated just long enough to give himself away.

You smiled slightly.

“Oh.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one where you realize you’re winning the argument.”

“I’m not arguing,” you said.

“You kind of are.”

Your smile softened a little.

“For the record,” you added, “I wasn’t flirting with him.”

Jack looked relieved before he could hide it.

“Good.”

You tilted your head. “Were you hoping I wasn’t?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

The honesty in that single word made the teasing tone fade slightly. You stepped a little closer.

“You know,” you said, “there are easier ways to get my attention.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

You shrugged.

“Just asking to hang out.”

Jack smiled a little at that.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I’m still learning.”

From across the room, Luke’s voice suddenly shouted: “HE WAS DEFINITELY JEALOUS.”

Jack closed his eyes.

“I’m going to tackle him.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the busy Olympic Hall, and somehow the jealousy that had started the entire moment turned into something much lighter.

The next morning the Olympic Village woke earlier than usual, the quiet pathways filling quickly with athletes heading toward buses, training facilities, and breakfast lines that seemed to stretch forever. The Games had a rhythm to them now—competition, recovery, celebration, repeat—and even though your own event had already passed, the adrenaline still hadn’t completely left your system.

Winning a medal did that. It followed you everywhere.

You noticed it when people glanced at the ribbon around your neck. When volunteers congratulated you in hallways. When other athletes gave you a quick nod of recognition like you had joined a club only a few people on the planet could enter.

What you didn’t notice immediately was the camera pointed in your direction.

Across the courtyard, a small group of media members had gathered near the pathway where athletes often crossed between buildings. Normally they were there for scheduled interviews, but the Olympics thrived on unscripted moments just as much as official ones.

And right now, they were looking directly at you. Specifically…

At you and Jack.

Jack had jogged across the courtyard to catch up with you, still half awake, his Team USA jacket zipped unevenly like he had thrown it on while running out the door.

“Wait up,” he called.

You turned, slowing.

“You know there are easier ways to say good morning.”

“I tried texting you,” he said.

“You sent one message.”

“That counts.”

You laughed, falling into step beside him as you walked toward the dining hall.

The moment looked normal to you. To the photographers across the courtyard, however, it looked very interesting.

Jack reached out without thinking and lightly grabbed your sleeve, so you didn’t walk straight into a group of passing athletes.

“Careful,” he said.

You looked up at him. And someone snapped a photo. Then another.

Inside the dining hall the noise swallowed the moment completely.

Luke spotted you first.

“There they are,” Luke said loudly.

You immediately knew that tone meant trouble. At the table, Quinn was scrolling through his phone while eating, looking far too relaxed for someone sitting across from Luke.

Jack dropped into the chair.

“Why do you sound like you’ve discovered something?”

Luke’s grin widened. “Oh nothing.”

That was never a good sign.

You grabbed a drink and sat down just as Luke turned his phone around and slid it across the table.

Jack frowned.

“What—”

Then he saw the screen.

Your walk across the courtyard. His hand on your sleeve. Both of you smiling. A headline already forming underneath.

Jack groaned immediately.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

You leaned closer.

“Oh my god.”

Luke looked thrilled.

“That was fast.”

Quinn took a slow sip of his drink.

“Welcome to the Olympics.”

Jack pushed the phone away slightly like it had personally betrayed him.

“How does this already exist?”

Luke tapped the screen.

“Internet works quickly.”

Another notification popped up. Then another.

You stared.

“That’s… a lot of people.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair.

“Fantastic.”

Luke leaned back in his chair like he had just been handed the greatest entertainment possible.

“This is going to get so much worse.”

“Stop being excited about that,” Jack said.

Too late.

Your phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. You hesitated before picking it up. There were messages from your teammates and friends back home. Someone had already sent the photo with about twelve question marks.

You laughed nervously.

“Well…”

Jack looked over.

“What are they saying?”

“Mostly asking if I’m secretly dating a hockey player.”

Luke nearly choked on his drink laughing.

Jack pointed at him.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

Quinn nodded thoughtfully.

“This is objectively funny.”

You tried to hide your smile.

Jack noticed.

“Don’t encourage them.”

“I’m not encouraging them.”

“You’re smiling.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He sighed dramatically.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Luke leaned toward you.

“For the record, we’re very supportive of this.”

“There is no ‘this,’” Jack said immediately.

Luke gestured between you.

“Suspicious.”

Quinn nodded once.

“Extremely.”

Your phone buzzed again. Another message. Another photo from a different angle.

“Oh wow,” you said.

“What now,” Jack asked cautiously.

“You’re trending.”

Jack froze.

“I hate the Olympics.”

Luke laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

“This is the best day of my life.”

Quinn shook his head slowly.

“You’re never hearing the end of this.”

Across the room, a few athletes had already started glancing toward your table. Someone whispered. Someone else checked their phone.

Jack noticed.

“Oh no.”

You followed his gaze.

“Oh no.”

Luke whispered dramatically:

“Celebrity couple.”

“We are not a celebrity couple,” Jack said.

Quinn stood up, grabbing his tray.

“Well,” he said calmly, “the internet seems to disagree.”

“Don’t leave me with this,” Jack said.

Quinn shrugged.

“You did this to yourself.”

Then he walked away. Luke stayed. Of course he did.

He turned toward you.

“So,” he said casually, “when’s the wedding?”

Jack buried his face in his hands.

“I’m transferring countries.”

You laughed again, and despite the chaos building online and around the room, Jack looked up at you with the same half-amused, half-helpless expression he always seemed to have when things spiralled.

The energy in the stadium is palpable, the thrum of excitement and anxiousness reverberates throughout the corners of the arena. Every fan is standing, leaning forward against the seats in front of them, yelling incomprehensibly at their favorite players flying across the ice.

It’s the Canucks versus the Blue Jackets, 1:00 left in overtime with a tied score of 3 - 3. The players are locked in on the play, hoping to score and win their team the game. The thrill of an overtime win is at your team’s fingertips, you can feel it. Standing against the glass, your head whips back and forth as the opposing teams fight for the puck, passing to their teammates, only to be knocked into the glass in front of you.

“Come on Quinn!” You yell, banging on the glass with an open hand. He doesn’t hear you though, you know how focused he gets, tunnel vision and determination visible on his face.

You look up at the time left, seeing 0:30 on the clock, anxiety creeps into your veins, begging for a win sooner rather than later. One of Quinn’s teammates passes the puck to him, you realize he has an open shot! This could be it, he could end the game here and secure the win for the team.

You watch him line up the shot, he reels his stick back and tries to slap it in, but gets deflected by the goaltender. A collective groan is heard throughout the arena, you cringe at the sound, knowing how much that must hurt when directed at him.

The Jackets quickly snatch up the puck and take it across their blue line, a breakaway and a slap shot later leads to final goal with 0:10 left on the clock. The buzzer sounds and the game is finished 3 - 4, your team had lost.

You see the dejected look on the boy’s faces, OT losses are the worst, so much hope gets squashed so quickly. What’s worse? You know Quinn will be blaming himself. Especially with how it ended.

As each player leaves the ice, you catch a quick look at his face, and he yours. As you make brief eye contact, you mouth ‘I’m sorry’ to him with a sad look on your face. Instead of replying, he defeatedly looks down at his stick and continues walking out.

You sit back down in your seat and take a breath, mentally preparing for the rest of the evening with a hockey player fresh from a loss.

The fans slowly leech out of the stadium, when the cleaners start walking the aisles looking for trash, you know it’s time to depart. The halls are mostly empty with exception of a few stragglers, you make your way towards the locker rooms.

You see many of the players with their gear slung over their shoulders heading towards the exit. The usually talkative bunch is now quiet, just wanting to get home to rest after such a rough end to a game.

You see one of your good friends Elias Pettersson, someone you know is usually the last in the locker room exiting, “Did Quinn leave already?” You ask quietly.

He gives you a sad smile and shakes his head, holding the door open for you to slip in. You mouth a ‘thank you’ to him and take in the scene in front of you.

Quinn is sitting on the bench in front of his gear with his head in his hands. He hasn’t noticed that you’ve been watching him, but you see his fast breathing and know every thought running through his head right now.

He blames himself, thinking of everything he did wrong, what he should’ve done, and of all the people he believes are disappointed in him.

You walk over and crouch down in front of him, gently touching the hands covering his face. You can smell the sweat still lingering on his skin, understanding that he hadn’t made the effort to shower quite yet. His hair is stuck up in every direction, still damp from being under his helmet. You use one hand to smooth down his head and one to try and pull a hand from his face; hoping that the comforting touch would loosen him up.

You notice his breathing stop for a split second as he recognizes your touch, but flinches away an inch, your hands leaving his skin. You sigh gently and raise up from where you were crouched.

You decide that sitting next to him is your next best move, so you sit there, letting him stew in the silence he obviously craves during times like this.

Time seems to move slowly as you wait for him to move, talk, or do anything. It seems like forever before he finally does.

You almost don’t notice at first, his head slightly leaning to the right, peering at you from between his thumb and index finger.

You hear a noise come from him, a small grunt of acknowledgement, which startles you from your own racing thoughts.

“Hi” you whisper, as if trying not to spook a wild animal.

He groans loudly and sits back in his seat, widening his legs and fisting his hands on the edge of the wooden seat. Knuckles beginning to go white from the grip.

You inhale to say something else, when he speaks up first, peering at you from the corner of his eye, “Stop, I know what you’re going to say,” he says with slight irritation behind each word.

You raise your eyebrow in challenge, fine if he wants to play like this, you’ll bite.

“Sure it’s ‘not my fault’ and I ‘did my best’ right? Yeah well I don’t want to hear it, okay?” He quips towards you, his head fully turning to look at you. Eyes aflame with bottled up anger and resentment that you know is only towards himself.

You hold your hands up in mock surrender, careful with your words, “then I don’t need to say it, you already know,” you say, putting your hand across his tight fist that hasn’t left the edge of the bench, still trying to be supportive.

As soon as you touch him he stands, beginning to pace the room, anger and frustration in his voice, “I had it, it was right fucking there and I fumbled it,” he continues, as if your touch broke the dam that was holding him back.

You stand with him, trying to calm the beast that you just released. “Quinn,” you try, hoping you can get through the wall of anger.

“What?” He growls towards you, rage flaring in his eyes.

“I know you’re upset, but nobody blames you. I certainly don’t. You played so well, the loss isn’t only on you,” you try to reassure him. “You just learn from it and take it to the next game where you’ll do better.”

His eyes soften slightly, but reflame instantly. “I’m the goddamn captain of this team, if I can’t get the play right, what hope does this team even have? They’d be better off with someone who can actually execute the play and win, and obviously that’s not me.” He all but shouts into the empty locker room. His pacing coming to a stop with his back facing you.

You slowly walk up to him and place a hand on his heaving shoulders. He instantly whips around and grabs you by the arms, pulling you into his chest, slamming his lips roughly into yours.

Ah you understand what he needs now, he doesn’t need reassurance, he needs an outlet for his anger. Something you’re very happy to give him.

You wouldn’t admit it to him but times like this really get you going, he’s sweaty, angry, and you’re all alone. He quickly backs you up into the edge of a nearby table, caging you in as he attacks your lips and neck with bites and rough kisses, sure to leave marks in the morning. It’s an easy energy to return as your hands reach up into his messy hair, grabbing and pulling just enough to hurt.

A growl sounds in the back of his throat as he hoists you up onto the table and steps in between your open thighs. His hands wrap roughly around the meat of your thighs, grabbing and kneading with fervor.

He still has about half of his gear on, adorning a black compression shirt on top, you grab a fistful and help him rip it off. His toned chest coming into view, though you can’t admire him for long as he quickly reclaims your lips in another fiery kiss.

Your hands roam all over him, nails raking down the exposed skin, finally landing on the edge of his gear still covering his lower half. He bats your hands away and pulls your own shirt off next, kneading your newly exposed breasts with his rough hands. Next are your pants, exposing you almost fully to him. The contrast of his rough gear on your skin adds a whole new layer to the sensations running up your spine.

You tip your head back as you let him work, hands braced against the table behind you. His kisses begin to descend down your body, stopping to nip and bite wherever he can. When he finally reaches the last piece of clothing hiding you from him, he looks up through his long eyelashes and raises an eyebrow in question.

Your legs widen and you lift your hips to help him remove them. With the final green light given, he dives in head first, literally.

Your legs rest on his shoulders as he devours you, his hot tongue leaving no inch unexplored. Your hands return to his damp hair, pulling and tugging in pleasure, moans echoing around the empty room.

He continues to eat you out with animal like determination, fingers biting into your skin. He opens his eyes to look up at you and you’re instantly gone. His name spills from your lips as your body contorts into unnatural angles. Your orgasm coming from seemingly nowhere. You don’t think you’ve ever come that fast in your life honestly.

He finally releases you after your panting begins to slow and the tight grip on his brown locks begins to release. He stands to his full height in front of you once again, not breaking eye contact as he watches you come down from the pleasure.

With eyes half lidded he smiles slightly, and reclaims your lips with a different kind of intensity than before. You reach down to the front of his gear and feel for your target. Even through the thick layers of his hockey gear, you can still feel him hard and straining against the material, begging to be touched.

He reaches to help you out and frees himself from the confines, the tip red and angry for attention. You grab for him instantly, yearning to finally touch him yourself. He once again swats your hands away and leans back.

You furrow your eyebrows in question, not understanding. You can still feel the underlying frustration and hurt in his eyes as he looks back at you. He hikes your legs up around his waist and pulls you in close, his hand skates up your spine and lands in your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling to angle your head to look him in the eyes.

“Not today,” he growls out, looking down at the mere inches left between you.

He reaches down and takes a hold of himself, slowly dragging the tip through your spit soaked folds, eyes closing to savor the feeling. He notches at your entrance and locks eyes with you again. You nod slightly, letting him in. He begins to push forward, your walls instantly swallowing every inch he gives you. Your heart beats quickly, pounding in your chest with love for the man bearing himself to you. You can feel every drop of emotion leeching from his body, the anger, the sadness, the feelings of inadequacy that bleeds into every movement he makes.

Your eyes flutter and roll back in ecstasy, simultaneous groans come from the two of you, finally bathing in the feeling of raw connection and pleasure that being with him always gives. You know you will talk to him about this later, but right now this is what he needs.

He stops at the hilt to savor the moment, it doesn’t last long though, his lingering frustration coming to surface once again. He grabs at your thighs to brace himself and pulls out, just to slam back in with even greater force. Over and over he gives and he takes with every thrust. Your hands grasp at his back, nails sure to leave angry red lines at every angle.

Gasps, grunts, and moans fill the room, the sound of skin slapping muffled by the thick fabric still scratching at your thighs with every thrust of his hips into yours.

You both don’t last long, the combination of infatuation and the risk of the situation make for a quick end. His name is a mantra on your lips, repeated quickly with every shock of electricity you feel as you begin to reach your peak for the second time tonight. Pleasure builds so rapidly between you, his hips stutter trying to hold back his release. You bring his head to your shoulder, wrapping your arms tightly around him, your lips coming to the edge of his ear where you gently whisper, “It’s okay, let go, I got you.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss the side of his head as his final thrust lands deep inside you, aching deliciously from the contact. You can feel the twitches from within you as he comes to his end, the small whimpers he lets out vibrate against the side of your neck. His whole body heaves against you, his breaths coming fast and erratic. You smooth your hands down his back in a comforting touch, sighing in contentment.

“I love you Quinn,” you whisper into his damp hair. His arms tighten against you as you hear a mumble of reciprocation come from his lips.