#devils hockey

"It's nothing I have seen and enjoyed before." Jack states following y/n around as he tries to talk her into giving into how he wants to start their day, or even end their day, maybe even have a midday shower.

"I have to have an everything shower, Jack and that's not something you should ever see. It's not pretty. In fact I have to shower just to shower off from the everything shower." Y/n sighs as she gathers up her laundry.

"Baby, there's a drought...in California."

That even earns Luke's attention from the kitchen.

"We live in New Jersey...and there is no a drought." Y/n points out trying not to laugh while Jack groans in frustration.

"Can you just get in that shower? Please?" Jack pouts but y/n only moves to the laundry room and Jack moves with her unwilling to relent.

He just wants to see his girlfriend naked in the shower. He's not sure why he has such a need for it for it's all he can think about

"I'm going out! Feel free to use that opportunity so I don't have to hear anything when I'm back!" Luke exclaims through the apartment while y/n jut about curses him for his exit. Not that she blames him, no one wants to hear their sibling getting at it with their partner.

"I'll handle the laundry. You get in that shower." Jack states making y/n sigh at him fighting a smile before Jack pecks her lips and manages to grab a handful of her ass. "Come on...what can I promise you so you let me get my way?"

Y/n laughs at the fact Jack doesn't bother trying to sweet talk her, mainly because he knows y/n is going to give him what he wants in the end.

"Please? Pretty please?" Jack pouts kissing her between each word while y/n practically rolls her eyes into the back of her eyes.

"Fine, but you have to deal with the fact I'm in my most unattractive state." Y/n sighs before he kisses her again.

"You don't have an unattractive state. But whatever you say, so long as it gets your ass in that shower." Jack states giving her ass a tap. "Go go. I'll put the laundry in."

"You're such a nerd."

Y/n laughs as she rushes to the bathroom and Jack makes no secret of his celebration that he's getting what he wanted.

Jack rushes the laundry throwing it in with some detergent before he rushes to the sound of running water and practically feels explosive with excitement. He'd been pestering her for near on an hour.

The California drought was really a fight for anything he could think of.

"Oh you are so gorgeous." Jack groans seeing y/n holding her hand under the water waiting for it to warm up a little bit, completely naked and exposed to his gaze.

"Are you coming in?" Y/n asks as she finally steps in and he doesn't waste time pulling off his own clothes before he gets in with her.

"How did I end up with the most perfect woman on the planet?" Jack sighs happily as his hands hold her waist and he begins kissing her. "I wish there was a way to tattoo seeing you like this in my head."

"So you can get hard in the middle of a game." Y/n laughs before being pushes till she's pushed back against the cold shower wall making her hiss a little and try to arch her back away. "Christ."

"You are so special to me." Jack whispers making her hum before she accepts a deep slow kiss.

His kisses move down her wet skin, teeth grazing and catching her ski before finally he's finally low enough to slide his hand up her legs up her leg, hooking up her knee to lift it onto his should, kissing her inner thigh while y/n's chest heaves with anticipation.

Suddenly y/n's priority of her everything shower is a distant thought.

The moment Jack's tongue dives into her and y/n bites her lips to muffle her moan.

"Jack." Y/n moans making him smile against her pussy but he doesn't stop for a second. "Jack..."

His name is like a keep going button every time it rings through the room. His fingers come up to join his tongue, his fingertips brushing the spongy walls of her pussy with each stroke making y/n moan out, the leg still supporting some of her weight begin to tremble at her orgasm approaches with furious speed.

Jack looks up just in time to feel it rush over her, a wetness practically splashing his face as y/n moans loudly, back arching and head dropping back as her chest rising and dropping at as she rides out the high, her hips grinding down onto his face.

Only after y/n has slowly came down from the high, Jack remains with her leg over his shoulder and one hand on her other thigh just to keep her from toppling over though eventually he pulls her down to sit with him close to the running water while y/n lies against him.

Jack gets to work washing her hair having to somewhat drown himself in order to lean back and wash the shampoo from her hair before he puts the condition in letting it sit a bit.

"You ok?" Jack asks softly hoping enough time has passed for her to just deal with it.

"After that I'm so good, might need to just have the everything shower tomorrow though...we can stand up right?"

"I only kept us sat because you were so quiet and didn't fight me about it." Jack laughs while y/n smiles lightly at him before he gently sits her up and moves to his feet then pulling her with him.

"So was this what you wanted from the shower?"

"Yes. Exactly what I wanted." Jack nods with a proud grin while y/n just shakes her head.

Eventually they're scrubbed clean and as cleaned up as they're going to get before Jack jumps out wrapping himself in a towel then grabbing one for y/n and wrapping her in it.

"I don't think we helped with any droughts with that shower." Y/n comments making Jack turn red a bit. "You're so cute when you're needy."

Jack doesn't bother to deny it since honestly, y/n knows she can be pretty clingy when the mood suits her too so it's really just him reciprocating the behaviour in his won way. Even if he's a little relentless. Some women might not like it, but it's not a boundary crossed for y/n. Really she was just putting off the shower because she had plans for it today and as it came to be, he ruined those plans in the best way.

But now the mental prep has to restart for the everything shower tomorrow.

"I'm hungry." Y/n mumbles after they've dressed.

"I'll text Luke to grab something on his way back. Unless you want something specific? We can go out and grab some food or go to the store." Jack states making y/n look at him for a beat. "Sorry, too many options. I should know better. I'll just get Luke to grab us something, he's on his way back anyway."

"Clearly he knows us too well if he's timed it that perfectly...You two stalking each other whenever you're out the apartment is always going to be so funny."

You froze halfway through tying your lace. “The what?”

He smiled softly. “The WAG section. By the ice.”

You straightened slowly. “Why?”

“I just want you closer,” he said. Simple. Casual. Like he wasn’t completely rearranging your brain chemistry. Your heart started beating harder.

“Nico,” you said carefully, “that’s for, like… girlfriends.”

He shrugged, trying to act relaxed, but you saw the tension in his shoulders. “I know.”

You stared at him. He held your gaze for a second longer, then leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead like that somehow explained everything.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, grabbing his bag. “Text me when you get there, okay?”

And just like that, he left. You stood there in the hallway for a full thirty seconds, absolutely stunned. The second you got into your car, you opened the group chat.

GUYS.

Immediately:

WHAT. WHY ARE YOU YELLING.

You didn’t even bother easing into it.

NICO JUST ASKED ME TO SIT IN THE WAG SECTION.

Three dots popped up from everyone at once.

NO HE DID NOT. THAT IS GIRLFRIEND TERRITORY. ARE YOU A WAG NOW.

You stared at your phone.

I ASKED HIM WHY AND HE JUST SAID HE WANTS ME CLOSER AND THEN LEFT.

Your friends lost their minds.

HE LEFT??? THIS MAN. BABE, HE BASICALLY PROPOSED.

You pulled into the arena parking lot still shaking.

You followed the usher to your seat, hyper aware of everything. The quieter section. The polished smiles. The way a couple of girls gave you knowing looks. You felt wildly underprepared for this. You texted again.

I AM LITERALLY SITTING NEXT TO SOMEONE’S WIFE I CANNOT DO THIS.

Warmups started a minute later. Nico stepped onto the ice and immediately scanned the crowd. His eyes found you. His lips curved into a small smile, just for himself. Your heart flipped.

Throughout the game, he kept looking over. After strong shifts. After faceoff wins. Once after he took a hit and popped right back up. Every time, his gaze landed on you, and every time something in his expression softened. You knew he noticed the jersey too.

When he scored in the first period, you jumped up, screaming like you always did. He turned toward your section right away and smiled openly this time, biting his lip before skating back to the bench.

You sent another message.

HE JUST SMILED AT ME AFTER HIS GOAL I AM UNWELL. THIS IS CINEMA.

The Devils won, and Nico played like a man possessed. When the buzzer sounded, you clapped until your hands hurt.

After the game, you told your friends you would meet them later and made your way toward the tunnel, nerves crawling back in. You stood by the wall, replaying everything in your head. Was this his way of telling you something? Or were you reading too much into it?

Nico appeared a few minutes later, duffel bag over his shoulder, hair still damp. His face lit up when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.”

He kissed your cheek like usual, but this time he let it linger.

You swallowed. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

He set his bag down and led you a little farther away. You crossed your arms.

“So… the WAG section.”

He smiled. “I confused you.”

“Yes,” you said. “A lot.”

He stepped closer. “I just wanted you close tonight.”

“But Nico,” you said quietly, “that section means something. And I care about you, but we’ve never actually talked about… us.”

He went still. Then he reached for your hands.

“I talk to you every day,” he said. “You come to my games. You steal my hoodies. I look for you in the crowd every night.”

Your chest tightened.

“I guess I thought it was obvious.”

You shook your head gently. “Not to me.”

He took a slow breath, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I didn’t want you sitting there unless it was real,” he said softly. “So I figured I should stop avoiding it.”

He looked up at you, eyes warm and steady. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart stuttered.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, Nico.”

Relief flooded his face. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close, forehead resting against yours.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

You kissed him right there in the hallway, and for once he didn’t care who might see.

Later, walking out of the arena hand in hand, you opened your group chat one last time.

UPDATE: HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS GIRLFRIEND.

Your phone exploded.

You smiled to yourself and squeezed Nico’s hand as he kissed your temple. No more confusion. You were his, and he was yours.

The locker room was loud. Music thumped through the walls, guys laughing and shouting over each other, the sound of skates clattering against the floor echoing down the hallway. You hovered just outside the door, suddenly shy now that everything was official.

Nico noticed you immediately.

He was halfway through talking to Jack when his eyes flicked up and landed on you. His whole face changed.

“Hey,” he said softly, already walking over.

Jack followed his gaze and grinned. “Well damn. Took you long enough, captain.”

Nico shot him a look but couldn’t stop smiling. He reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Guys,” Nico said, voice steady but proud, “this is my girlfriend.”

Your heart did a little flip. A chorus of whistles and fake gagging followed.

“Finally.”

“About time.”

“You owe us drinks.”

You laughed nervously, cheeks warm, as Nico squeezed your hand.

“This is Y/N,” he added quietly to you, pointing people out. “Jack. Jesper. Dawson.”

They all greeted you warmly, Jack throwing an arm around Nico’s shoulders.

“We’ve known longer than you,” Jack stage whispered.

You leaned closer to Nico. “Did they?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Apparently.”

He guided you to his stall and draped his jacket over your shoulders when he noticed you rubbing your arms.

“You cold?”

“A little.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Here.”

The simple intimacy of it made your chest ache in the best way. You watched him pack his bag, still buzzing from the game, still glowing from the win. Every so often he would glance over at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were there.

At one point he walked over, cupped your face in his hands, and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Jack made dramatic gagging noises.

“I hate love.”

Nico didn’t even look at him. “You’ll live.”

After Nico finished changing, he pulled you back into his side and led you out of the arena. The cold air hit your cheeks as you stepped outside. Nico immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into him.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “I just… that was a lot.”

He smiled softly. “Good lot or overwhelming lot?”

“Good lot.”

He kissed your temple. “Good.”

You walked in comfortable silence for a moment, your head resting against his shoulder. Then he spoke again.

“I was really nervous asking you.”

You looked up at him. “You were?”

He laughed quietly. “Yeah. I’ve played in Game Sevens with less anxiety.”

You smiled. “You didn’t show it.”

“I tried not to.”

He stopped walking suddenly and turned to face you, hands settling on your waist.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told you quietly. “I’ve been in love with you for a while. I just didn’t want to mess it up.”

Your throat tightened.

“You didn’t,” you said.

He leaned in and kissed you slowly, sweet and unhurried, right there in the parking lot.

Later, curled up together in his car while waiting to leave, you pulled out your phone.

GUYS HE INTRODUCED ME AS HIS GIRLFRIEND TO THE TEAM.

Your friends lost their collective minds.

Nico peeked over. “Are they happy?”

“They’re planning our wedding.”

He laughed, pulling you closer. “Sounds about right.”

You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arm snug around you. After a minute, he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“So,” he murmured, “my girlfriend hungry?”

You smiled against him.

“Very.”

He grinned. “Good. Captain’s treating.”

And as he drove you home, hand resting on your thigh, you finally let yourself relax. No more wondering. No more guessing. Just Nico and you, and a whole lot of soft smiles, stolen kisses, and hockey wins ahead.

The next morning you woke up slowly, wrapped in warmth. For a moment, you didn’t know where you were. Then you felt Nico’s arm around your waist, his chest solid against your back, his steady breathing tickling your neck.

Right. Nico Hischier. Your boyfriend. Your lips twitched at the thought.

You shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but Nico stirred anyway. He tightened his hold on you immediately, pulling you closer like his body had memorized you overnight.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning.”

He pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, then buried his face in your hair.

“You slept okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Mmhmm.”

He kissed your neck softly. Once. Twice. You rolled over to face him. His hair was a mess, eyes still heavy, and he looked so peaceful it almost hurt. He smiled the second he saw you.

“Hi,” he said, like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“Hi.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his thumb. “My girlfriend looks cute when she wakes up.”

You blinked.

“My what?”

He smirked.

“My girlfriend.”

Your cheeks warmed instantly. “You’re going to say that all day, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

You laughed, burying your face in his chest. He wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.

“I like saying it,” he admitted quietly. “Feels real.”

Your heart melted.

Eventually, hunger won.

You both dragged yourselves out of bed, you stealing one of Nico’s hoodies while he pulled on sweatpants. He noticed immediately.

“That’s my hoodie.”

You slipped your arms through the sleeves. “Correction. It’s your girlfriend’s hoodie now.”

His smile was immediate. “Exactly.”

In the kitchen, Nico started coffee while you leaned against the counter, watching him move around like this was already routine. He handed you a mug.

“Here,” he said. “Made coffee for my girlfriend.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing it again.”

He shrugged innocently. “Just stating facts.”

You took a sip, trying not to grin. He opened the fridge, staring inside like it might offer guidance.

“What does my girlfriend want for breakfast?”

“You don’t have to call me that every sentence.”

“Yes I do.”

You laughed. “Eggs are fine.”

He nodded seriously. “Eggs for my girlfriend.”

You shook your head, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

Halfway through cooking, his phone buzzed. He checked it and groaned.

“Team group chat.”

You smirked. “What are they saying?”

He held up his phone.

Captain finally made it official.

Jack had added about six celebratory emojis.

Nico rolled his eyes. “They’re unbearable.”

He typed back quickly.

Yeah well my girlfriend likes me so.

You nearly choked on your coffee.

“You did not.”

He showed you the screen, completely unapologetic. Jack replied instantly.

WE GET IT YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.

Nico just smiled.

Breakfast ended up eaten on the couch, legs tangled together, a lazy playlist playing quietly in the background. Nico kept pulling you closer between bites, kissing your temple, your cheek, your nose. At one point, you leaned against him and sighed happily. He looked down at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just… comfy.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Good. My girlfriend deserves comfy mornings.”

You groaned dramatically. “Nico.”

He laughed, low and warm. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

You curled into his side, tracing idle circles on his chest. He grew quieter then, arms tightening just a little.

“I like this,” he said softly.

“This?”

“Waking up with you. Making coffee. Saying girlfriend.” He smiled down at you. “Feels like something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Your throat tightened. You kissed him slowly, deliberately. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“Lazy day?” he asked.

“Lazy day.”

He nodded. “Perfect. My girlfriend is not leaving this couch.”

It’s really obvious that Luke likes her more than a friend, but Y/N doesn’t notice because her eyes are always on Jack. Luke tries not to get jealous when he sees Y/N with Jack especially when he knows Jack doesn’t feel the same way, but why can’t she look at him the way she looks at him.

What does Jack have that he doesn’t have? Luke always has his eyes on Y/N, but her eyes are always on his big brother.

--------------------

Now in high school the crushes are still there. Y/N was over at the Hughes house doing homework in the kitchen with Luke. They were sitting at the kitchen table. Luke has all of his focus on his homework, but Y/N kept getting distracted by Jack playing catch with a football with three of his friends outside.

This is Jack’s final year of high school and then he’s off to the NHL and it will just be Luke since Quinn, the oldest brother, is already playing in the NHL for the Vancouver Canucks. Don’t get Luke wrong, he’s going to miss Jack when he leaves, but maybe with him gone Y/N will start to have eyes and attention on him.

Luke’s mechanical pencil just ran out of lead which made him curse silently. “Hey Y/N do you- “Luke started to ask but cut himself off when he noticed Y/N looking out the glass door at Jack.

She looked at him with a lovestruck like stare. Luke glanced out the door at Jack who was lifting his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. Luke looked back at Y/N, whose face was completely flushed.

 “Y/N!” Luke said in a stern tone. “Yeah.” Y/N said without taking her eyes off Jack. “Do you have an extra pencil or pen?” Luke asked, trying his best to hide his annoyance.

Y/N ignored him as she watched Jack catch the football and throw it back at one of his friends. Jack started to laugh at something one of his friends said. “Y/N!” Luke said, raising his voice a little which got Y/N’s attention. “Oh, yeah! Hold on!” Y/N said.

She picked up her book bag off the floor and sat it onto her lap. She unzipped the front pocket and got out a mechanical pencil. “Here.” Y/N said handing him the pencil. “Thanks.” Luke said taking the pencil as she zipped back up the pocket and put her book bag back down onto the tile floor.

They went back to doing their homework till the door to the back yard opened. It was just Jack. His brunette hair was damp from his sweat and his cheeks were red from all of the running he was doing.

“Fuck! It’s hot out there for an October day.” Jack said as again he used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Y/N couldn’t help but get all fluttered by the sight of Jack’s stomach. “Hey Jack.” Y/N said in a flirty like tone. Luke couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes. “Hey Y/N.” Jack said with a kind smile. He was already outside with his friends when Y/N showed up.

“What do you want? We’re trying to get some homework done!” Luke said before Y/N could do anymore flirting. Luke looked at Jack with annoyance. “Relax Lukey boy!” Jack said, which annoyed Luke even more. “I just came in to grab the boys and I some water.” Jack told him. “I’ll get them for you.” Y/N said quickly standing up from the chair she was sitting in. She almost tripped on another chair on her way to the fridge, but she quickly recovered.

Y/N probably knows the Hughes house better than her own since she spends most of her time at the Hughes’s than her’s. She grabbed four water bottles and walked back over to the brothers.

“Here you go.” Y/N said handing the water bottles to Jack with the biggest smile. “Thanks.” Jack said taking the bottles from her as he returned a smile which made Y/N’s heart melt. Besides Jack watercolor eyes, his smile his what Y/N loves the most. “You’re welcome.” Y/N said as she played with the end of her ponytail. Luke knew that when Y/N played with the ends of her hair it was a sign of her flirting. That’s how well he knows her.

“Can you leave so we can get back to work.” Luke said to his brother in a snappy tone. He wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his jealousy. At least this time. “Okay, dorky.” Jack said nudging Luke with his elbow which earned him a glare. Y/N let out a flirty giggle.

Once Jack was back outside Y/N took a seat back down at the table. When she looked at Luke, she could tell something was bothering him as he glared down at the paper in front of him.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked with concern. “Nothing, just stuck on this one question.” Luke lied.

 Of course, he didn’t have the courage to tell her the truth. Why can’t he just get the confidence to tell her the truth. Tell her how it drives him up the wall when she flirts with Jack. Tell her that he wants her to have eyes only for him. Tell her that Jack doesn’t feel the same way she does. But how could he tell her that without hurting her feelings. Y/N has had this crush ever since the first day she met Jack.

“Oh, do you need my help?” Y/N asked him. “No, I think I got it now.” Luke answered. “Okay well I’m here if you need me, Lukey.” Y/N told him picking her pencil back up and went back to working on her geometry homework.

Luke hates it when people call him by his childhood nickname but when Y/N calls him it warms his heart.

--------------------

Now adult’s Y/N and Luke do completely different careers. Luke plays hockey for the New Jersey Devils with Jack, which is one of the best things ever while Y/N is a wildlife rehabilitator. She helps nurse animals back to life and then send them back into the wild once they are healthy.

Even though they went into different paths they continued to stay in touch. But recently Y/N moved to New Jersey to work for the local zoo rehabilitation center. She told Luke that she will be attending his game that is happening tonight.

Luke was in the locker room getting ready. He was trying on his skates when Jack walked up to him. “A little birdie told me that Y/N will be at the game.” Jack said with a smirk on his lips. “Maybe tonight will finally be the night to tell her how you feel.” Jack added, which earned him a shrug from Luke.

“What’s the problem?” Jack asked as his smirk faded away. “What if she’s still hung up on you?” Luke asked as all of his attention was on making sure his skates were tight enough. “Then I’ll let her down easy.” Jack told him.

Jack took a seat right down next to him. He wrapped an arm around his brother which made Luke stop what he was doing with his skates, but he still wasn’t looking at him.

 “Luke, you’ve been head over heels for this girl for years. Ever since you two were teenagers.” Jack told him. “She deserves a guy like you and the only one that can make her realize that is you.” Jack added.

 Luke knew he was right, but he still didn’t have the confidence to tell her. Jack always has confidence when it comes to talking to girls or telling them how he feels about them. Jack can just walk up to a girl and smile at her and she’s like putty in his hand. Maybe that’s why Y/N always looked at him the way he looks at her.

“Okay.” Luke said with a nod looking over at Jack. “That’s my boy.” Jack said patting Luke on back a couple of times which made him jerk forward.

 Jack stood up and walked back over to his cubby so he could continue to get ready for the game.

--------------------

Luke was on the ice doing his warmup routine. He was skating around the ice hitting pucks into the empty net. The Devils are playing their rivals, the New York Rangers. The Devils and Rangers have been rivals for decades. Anytime these two teams face off it’s always a very physical game.

Luke went to gather all the pucks out of the net when he heard a voice call him by his nickname. He looked over behind the Devils bench to see Y/N in the front row with both her hands flat on the glass.

She has on a red Devils jersey with black jeans on. Her hair was up in a high ponytail so when she turned around Luke could see that she was wearing his name and number on. When Luke saw that she was wearing his jersey his heart rate sped up. This is the first time she’s worn a jersey with his name and number on it. Seeing her wearing that has made Luke feel confident.

He smiled as he gave her a wave once she turned back around. “Good luck!” She mouthed to him with a smile. “Thank you.” He mouthed back to her. She gave him two thumbs up and then took her seat.

When the game finally started it only took three minutes for Luke to score the first goal of the game, which he had never done before. After getting mobbed by his teammates he looked up into the crowd to see Y/N jumping up and down with excitement as she clapped her hands.

Every time Luke was on the ice he was everywhere. The Rangers players couldn’t stop him. Luke had the best game of his professional career. The final score was 6-1 and Luke scored two of those points and had two assists.

Y/N gave him confidence during the game. He’s hoping to keep that confidence so he can finally tell her what he’s been holding in for years.

--------------------

After the game was over Y/N joined Luke and Jack at a bar with some other Devils players to celebrate the big win. Luke was at a standing table with Y/N while Jack was at the bar with their teammates.

“You kicked their asses!” Y/N said with excitement pouring out of her. Luke let out a chuckle at her excitement as he took a sip of his beer. Y/N was drinking a cocktail.

 “You know what? I’m buying us a couple round of shots.” Y/N told him. “You don’t have to do that.” Luke told her. He’s not that big of a drinker like Quinn and Jack who can sometimes go all out. Jack is usually the one that can get crazy, especially after a big win.

“C’mon Lukey!” Y/N said in a whiny like tone. “You were the player of the game! It’s okay to let loose!” Y/N added. She looked at him with a puppy dog like look which he always falls for. “Okay but only one round.” Luke told her which made her let out a squeal of excitement. “I got you!” Y/N told him with a wink as she grabbed her purse off the table and made her way to the bar.

Luke shook his head as he took another drink from his bottle. When Y/N got to the bar Jack was there but instead of ordering the shots she immediately started talking to Jack.

Luke knew that they were probably just saying hi to each other since they hadn’t seen each other in years but as time passed Y/N continued to talk to Jack. It looked like Y/N had completely forgotten about ordering the shots and started to flirt with him. At least that’s what it looked like to Luke.

He at first thought he was just overthinking till Y/N put her hand on Jack’s shoulder as she laughed at something he said. Luke immediately felt jealousy burn through him.

“Fuck this!” Luke hissed having enough. He chugged the rest of his beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table which made it shake. He surprisingly didn’t break the glass bottle.

He angerly made his way out of the bar which Y/N noticed. She excused herself from Jack and his teammates as she quickly made her way outside. “Lukey!” Y/N called out to him. “Leave me alone!” Luke snapped as he walked towards his car. Y/N was taken a little back from his shift in mood. What the hell happened while she was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked really concern about him. She’s never seen Luke like this before. Luke came to an abrupt stop which made Y/N almost run straight into his tall figure. Luke has always towered over Y/N but ever since college he has really grown tall. He is taller than both his older brothers.

“I thought you were getting us shots?” Luke asked, turning around to face her. “I was.” Y/N told him which made his scoff. “Really because it seemed like to me you were flirting with Jack.” Luke said with frustration. “Obviously nothing has changed.” Luke snapped. “What the hell is your problem?” Y/N snapped back.

Why is he acting all mad towards her all sudden. She couldn’t help but start to get pissy by this sudden change in mood.

“Nothing.” Luke said, shaking his hand as he looked anywhere but her face. “No! Something is bothering you because you wouldn’t be acting like this for no reason!” Y/N told him in a stern tone.

Luke didn’t give her an answer as he clenched his jaw. She knew he was hiding something and she’s not leaving him alone till he tells her what has happened to make him all mad.

“Luke!” Y/N said again in a stern voice. She was starting to lose her patience. “I’m your best friend, you can tell- “Y/N said but before she could finish her sentence Luke finally spoke. “I’m fucking in love with you alright!” Luke confessed with anger and frustration looking at her. Y/N could feel her whole body go into shock.

“Y-you love m-me.” Y/N stuttered since she was in shock. “It doesn’t matter.” Luke said shaking his head. “Yes, it does!” Y/N said taking a step towards him. “No, it fucking doesn’t.” Luke hissed as he clenched his jaw so tight he felt like he could break his teeth.

“For fucking years I’ve had these feelings for you, but you always had your eyes for Jack.” Luke added finally just letting all of his feeling out.

All the jealousy and annoyance were coming out of him. If this was a cartoon, he would have steam coming out of his ears. It felt good to get all of this out, but he knows he’s kept it in for way too long. Instead of this confession making him feel better it only made him angrier.

Y/N felt the opposite as tears started to appear in her eyes. She felt like she’d been a shitty friend towards a boy who has been by her side ever since the day they met. Whenever Jack was around, she would ignore Luke and have all of her attention on the middle brother.

She meant to say hi to Jack but instead she got caught up in the conversation that Jack was having with his teammates and then the teammates were asking her questions, and she was just being nice. She knew she just fucked up big time.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wear his jersey.” Luke mumbled as he unclenched his jaw. “Lukey!” Y/N said with a sob as tears started to pour down from her eyes. “Don’t call me that.” Luke said, turning around to his car.

Y/N knew she just fucked up her whole relationship with him. Once he got into his car she wiped away her tears and walked back into the bar.

Luke watched her walk back into the bar from his side mirror. He sighed as he started his car up and drove out of the parking lot.

--------------------

It’s been a week and Luke has ignored Y/N’s calls and texts. When he got home to his apartment after their fight he couldn’t help but feel like a total dick for snapping at her like that.

That’s not how he wanted to tell her how he felt about her. It’s his fault he spilled his anger and jealousy out on her. He knows he just ruined his chance with having anything more with her. Jack is wrong, she doesn’t deserve a guy like him. He just told her how he felt way before this he wouldn’t have gotten all angry.

The Devils are away for tonight’s game. The team is in Montreal playing the Candiens. Y/N got home from the zoo just in time for the game to start. In between commercials she heated herself up some leftover pizza. Since Luke has been ignoring her watching his games is the only way she can see him.

 A fight broke out during the game which didn’t surprise her but what did was Luke started to fight with an opposing player which was really out of character for him. He’s the one that tries to stop the fights or just stays out of them.

She couldn’t help but feel like Luke is pouring his anger out on the ice. She’s the reason why he’s been so angry this week and now it’s effecting his game on the ice.

When the game was over Y/N decided to send a text to Jack asking when they were going to be back home and Luke’s address since she knew if she texted Luke, he would’ve just ignored her. She gave up on texting him a couple days ago.

It took Jack a little while to text back but when he did, he gave her the answers she wanted. The team should be back by the early hours so she decided that she would stop by Luke’s place after she gets off work tomorrow.

----------------------

For the first time in her life, she felt nervous to talk to Luke. What if when he answers the door, he just slams it in her face. What if he tells her to go fuck off and tell her to never talk to him again. If he does any of that she won’t blame him.

When she got to Luke’s door she immediately knocked on the door. She decided to just rip the band aid off. When the door opened there stood Luke. He had bags under his eyes, but it didn’t look like he had any bruises, or he was in any physical pain. When he fought that player, he was the one that was doing much of the punching and hitting.

“Hi.” Y/N said with softness in her voice. “May I come in?” Y/N asked, again just ripping the band aid off. Luke answered with a nod as he let her walk inside his apartment.

 Y/N took a seat on the couch while Luke closed the door. “I want to talk about the other night outside the bar.” Y/N said as Luke sat down next to her. “We don’t have to.” Luke said with a tired sigh as he ran a hand through his dark and messy curly hair. “Yes, we do.” Y/N told him in a stern voice. Luke let out another sigh as he gave her a nod.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you growing up.” Y/N said with sincere. “Yes, my crush on Jack was crazy and out of control but I promise that the crush is far gone.” Y/N told him. “I got distracted when I said hi to him because of what he was talking about with both of your teammates and then they were asking me questions just trying to get to know me, but I can totally understand why you thought I forgot about you.” Y/N explained to him the whole misunderstanding.

“The main reason I moved here was because I wanted to be with you.” Y/N added as she played with the end of her ponytail twirling it around her index finger. “What do you mean?” Luke asked.

“The time we spent apart made me realize that I have feelings for you.” Y/N confessed as Luke’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Y-you like m-me?” Luke said stuttering the same way she did when he told her about his feelings for her. “Yes.” Y/N said with a nod. “I wanted to tell you the other night, but I couldn’t find the words.” Y/N added.

“You know what.” Luke said taking one of her hands. “Let’s just forget about that night and start over.” Luke told her. “Okay.” Y/N said with a nod.

trevorzegras: the way buddy’s CHOWING on his foot is crazy

_quinnhughes: you managed to convince jack to go outside?? on a hike?? in the sun?? in the outdoors??

jackhughes: why r u such a hater

trevorzegras: no. 1 opp fr

userone: PICKLES (Y/L/N)!!

jackhughes: despite nearly dying on this hike, i actually enjoyed myself. thanks for taking me out ig babe

usertwo: the most monotoned comment i have ever read

youruser: “thanks for taking me out ig babe” boy, do you want to rephrase that comment?

lhughes_06: ooohh, rowdy’s in trouble!

jackhughes: thank you so much for taking me out on a hike babe! i enjoyed spending time with you 💗

youruser: of course bb!! 🤭

trevorzegras: jackhughes WHIPPED 🫵🏻

lhughes_06: remember when he didn’t even want the cat & complained nonstop about him & all the fur he left behind?? no?? just me??

userthree: not luke calling out jack lmao

usertwo: but pickles is so cute!! how could he NOT like the cat 😭

userfour: pickles being an outdoor cat just makes sense to me. like, he just gives off those vibes

nicohischier: jack wouldn’t go near pickles for MONTHS after (y/n) got him

tmeier96: wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole at first

pally_18: but when (y/n) had to rush him to the vet for an emergency, you bet he cut practice early & left luke stranded at prudential while he rushed to the vet

jackhughes: opps. all of you.

jackhughes just posted!

liked by elhughes, lhughes_06, & others

jackhughes: for all of you who doubted my tolerability of pickles

tagged: mister.pickles & youruser

( loading comments ! )

youruser: the last pic of him as a kitten just brought tears to my eyes, they grow up so fast 😭

lhughes_06: you sure he tolerates you? you get more scars & bruises from the cat than you do on the ice

userone: 😳

nicohischier: jack hughes, cat dad & professional hockey player

usertwo: i like how he put cat dad before the fact that he’s a professional athlete 🤣

elhughes: see, i told you you’d come around!

userthree: jack’s just being exposed in everyone’s comment sections 😭

jackhughes: mommm

yourbestie: don’t be fooled. it took pickles & jack MONTHS to actually like each other enough to sit in the same room together

dawson1417: just a reminder, i am free to cat sit WHENEVER needed 😊

yoursibling: the cutest cat ever!! 🫶🏼

youruser just posted!

liked by nicohischier, njdevils, & others

youruser: jack totally loves the cat. don’t let him tell you otherwise

tagged: jackhughes & mister.pickles

( loading comments! )

userone: i knew there was no way that jack didn’t cuddle pickles. he’s too cute not too

usertwo: we love the character development

trevorzegras: told you he just needed to accept his role as cat dad

userthree: there’s no way 😭

_quinnhughes: pickles looks pissed that jack’s holding him in the first pic lmao

lhughes_06: he looks more concerned that its jack holding him rather than (y/n) lol

userfour: poor jack catching heat left & right 😂

njdevils: jack hughes, the best cat dad there is

jackhughes: mister pickles is a decent cat, i suppose

youruser: oh, please. you literally cried yesterday because he hissed at you for the first time in weeks while you were trimming his nails

jackhughes: it was RUDE

trevorzegras: dude, he’s a CAT

He sighs, tilting his head back against the headrest for just a second before refocusing. “Yeah. One of those nights.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. It’s always one of those nights when he calls you. When he shoots you a text—Can’t sleep. You up?—and you tell yourself you shouldn’t answer. That you shouldn’t slide into the passenger seat of his car at 1 a.m. That you shouldn’t let him drive you through the city like you’re something fragile he doesn’t quite know how to hold.

But you always do.

The streets are mostly empty this late, just the occasional cab or someone stumbling out of a bar, but Nico keeps driving, like there’s somewhere he wants to go but hasn’t decided yet.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to take you home.

You steal a glance at him. He’s still in his post-game suit, tie gone, top buttons undone. There’s a hint of exhaustion in his face, but his hands on the wheel are steady, strong.

“Did you even shower after the game?” you tease, trying to lighten whatever this is.

His lips twitch. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No,” you say, even though there’s a trace of sweat, cologne, and something distinctly him lingering in the air. “Just wondering how desperate you were to get out of there.”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Didn’t feel like staying.”

He doesn’t say why.

But you know.

You press your head against the cool glass, watching the lights smear against the dark sky. “You played well.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah. You always do.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifts gears, and the low growl of the engine fills the silence. You swear his fingers tighten on the wheel again.

“Not always,” he mutters.

You turn to look at him, but his gaze is locked on the road, jaw tight. There’s something unspoken in his words, in the way his grip flexes, in the way he won’t meet your eyes.

You know this version of Nico—the one who carries the weight of a whole team on his shoulders, who never lets himself falter, who never gives himself enough credit. You’ve seen him like this before. But every time, it makes something twist in your chest.

The car hums beneath you, the city stretching out in every direction. Neither of you say much, but that’s always how it is. Nico isn’t the type to fill silence just for the sake of it, and you’ve learned to be okay with that.

But something about tonight feels different.

He drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting against his thigh, fingers tapping lightly—like he’s working through something in his head.

You shift in your seat, pulling your coat tighter around you. “Where are we going?”

Nico exhales, glancing at you briefly before turning back to the road. “Nowhere. Just… driving.”

It’s not an answer, but it’s the truth.

You watch the way the streetlights reflect in his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw when he clenches it. He’s tense. Maybe from the game, maybe from something else. You wish he’d just say it—whatever’s on his mind.

Instead, you ask, “You ever gonna let me drive this thing?”

His lips twitch. “Not a chance.”

You smirk. “What, don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone with my car,” he says, side-eyeing you. “Especially not you.”

You place a dramatic hand over your heart. “Wow. I’m offended.”

His low chuckle fills the space between you, something warm slipping into the tension. It makes your chest tighten. Because this is how it always goes—this push and pull, this unspoken something between you.

You wonder if he feels it too. If it keeps him up at night the way it does you.

You turn toward him, studying his profile. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His jaw shifts, fingers flexing slightly against the wheel. “Yeah. Just—” He exhales sharply. “Long night.”

You nod. You know what he means, even if he won’t say it outright.

There’s something about Nico—something about the way he carries everything so quietly, so carefully. Like he doesn’t want to let anyone see the cracks. Like if he lets go for even a second, everything might come apart.

And maybe that’s why he called you tonight.

Maybe that’s why you came.

The car slows as he pulls off onto a quieter street, the glow of the city fading behind you. You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Why’d you stop?”

His hands tighten around the wheel. “Just—don’t wanna take you home yet.”

And god. You shouldn’t feel your pulse jump at that.

But you do.

Your breath catches for half a second.

It’s not like he hasn’t said things like this before—things that toe the line of something more. But tonight, it feels different. He isn’t smirking, isn’t teasing. He’s just looking at you, fingers still curled around the wheel like he’s trying to decide if he should let go.

You shift in your seat, watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “Okay,” you say softly.

He nods once, as if settling into the decision. Then he cuts the engine. The sudden quiet is deafening.

For a moment, neither of you move. The streetlights cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. You think about how many times you’ve been in this car with him—how many times you’ve told yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

But sitting here now, the air thick with something unspoken, you can’t lie to yourself anymore.

“You ever gonna tell me why you call me when you can’t sleep?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Nico’s fingers flex against his thigh. His gaze flicks to you, then away again. “I dunno,” he mutters. “Just… easier.”

“Easier than what?”

He shifts in his seat, one hand raking through his hair. His jaw clenches for a beat before he exhales. “Than being alone, I guess.”

Your chest tightens.

It’s an admission, but not the one you want.

You glance at the city outside, at the blurred neon signs and empty sidewalks. “That’s all this is?” you ask, hating how quiet your voice sounds.

Nico doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches for the dial, turning down the music that had been playing softly in the background. The quiet stretches between you, heavier than before.

And then—

“I don’t know what this is.”

The words are barely more than a murmur, but they hit you like a punch to the ribs.

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? This thing between you has never had a definition. It’s late-night drives and stolen glances. It’s his hand on the small of your back when no one’s looking. It’s a text at 1 a.m. and an empty passenger seat that’s always waiting for you.

It’s nothing.

And yet it’s everything.

“You wanna figure it out?” you ask, pulse hammering in your throat.

Nico turns then, really looks at you. His gaze is darker now, more intense. His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers tighten around the gear shift, like he’s grounding himself.

Like he’s trying to stop himself from doing something he shouldn’t.

But you don’t think you want him to stop.

The air inside the car is suffocating now, thick with everything neither of you are saying.

Nico’s fingers tap against the gear shift—once, twice—before he exhales sharply and drags a hand over his face. “You know it’s not that simple.”

Your chest tightens. “Isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares at the windshield, his jaw locked, something unreadable flickering across his face.

And you get it. You do. He’s Nico Hischier—captain, leader, the guy who carries more weight on his shoulders than anyone realises. He can’t afford distractions, can’t afford complications.

But you’re right here. And he’s the one who keeps pulling you closer.

You shift in your seat, suddenly restless. “You always do this,” you mutter, shaking your head.

His gaze snaps to yours. “Do what?”

You let out a humourless laugh. “You call me in the middle of the night. You pick me up. You drive me around like you don’t wanna let me go—but then you sit there like this is some impossible thing.”

His jaw tightens. “You think this is easy for me?”

“I don’t know, Nico. You tell me.”

Silence.

A muscle ticks in his jaw, his fingers curling into a fist against his thigh. And then, suddenly, he moves.

Not away from you. Closer.

His hand lifts, just barely grazing your knee before stopping. Like he’s not sure if he should. Like if he touches you for real, there’s no taking it back.

Your breath catches.

“You think I don’t want this?” His voice is low, rough. Nothing like the careful, measured way he usually speaks.

Your pulse thrums against your skin. “Then why—”

“Because if I start something with you, I don’t know if I can stop.”

His words crash into you like a punch to the stomach.

Because this is it, isn’t it? The reason for all the late nights, all the stolen glances, all the times he’s looked at you like he’s already thinking about regret.

He’s been holding back.

And now, you’re not sure if he wants to anymore.

You shift, the space between you suddenly too small. “Then don’t,” you whisper.

Nico swears under his breath, his head tilting back against the seat like he’s at war with himself. His fingers flex again—like he wants to touch you, like he needs to.

And then—finally—he does.

His hand slides over your thigh, slow and deliberate, fingertips pressing into the fabric of your jeans. Not enough. Nowhere near enough.

Your breath shudders out of you. “Nico—”

His name on your lips is all it takes.

The next thing you know, his hand is cupping your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek. He’s close now, so close you can feel his breath against your skin. His eyes flick to your lips, dark and unreadable.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t even hesitate.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I’m sure.”

Nico doesn’t waste another second.

The second Nico closes the space between you, it’s like something snaps.

His lips press against yours—firm, searching—like he’s trying to make up for all the times he’s held back. His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss.

And god, you feel it everywhere.

The slow drag of his mouth. The heat of his palm against your skin. The way his other hand tightens against your thigh, fingertips pressing in like he’s anchoring himself. Like if he lets go, this whole thing might disappear.

You reach for him without thinking, fingers curling around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging him closer. He lets out the faintest sound—a low hum against your lips—and something about it makes your stomach flip.

Nico pulls back just enough to look at you, his breath uneven. His forehead rests against yours, eyes dark, searching.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs.

Your fingers tighten around his jacket. “Then why didn’t you?”

He swallows, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “I don’t know. Because I’m an idiot, maybe.”

His voice is quiet, almost like he’s confessing something he shouldn’t. And you feel that—feel it in the way his fingers linger against your skin, in the way he looks at you like you’re something he’s afraid to lose.

But there’s no hesitation now. No more unspoken words, no more pretending. Just the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his touch, the heat building between you.

Your hand slides to the back of his neck, fingertips brushing against the soft hair there. “I’m not gonna go anywhere, you know,” you whisper.

Nico exhales sharply—like you just made a decision for him. And maybe you did.

Because the next thing you know, his lips are on yours again, hungrier this time, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing bare skin. A shiver rolls down your spine, your breath catching as he presses just a little closer, his body warm and solid against yours.

This is new, but it isn’t.

It’s every late-night drive. Every lingering glance. Every time his fingers brushed against yours just long enough to make you wonder if it meant something.

And now, you know.

Nico’s lips move to the corner of your mouth, then lower, skimming along the edge of your jaw. His breath is warm against your skin, sending a slow, burning ache curling through you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs against your neck.

Your breath stutters, fingers tightening in his jacket. “Then show me.”

His grip on you tightens. “Careful,” he warns, voice rougher now, lower. “I don’t think you wanna test me right now.”

But god, you do.

You tilt your chin, letting his lips drag lower, just enough to make your pulse trip. “Maybe I do.”

Nico groans softly, his forehead dropping to your shoulder for half a second, like he’s trying to rein himself in. But then he exhales, pressing one last kiss to your skin before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

His eyes are darker now, his expression unreadable.

“Get in the backseat,” he says.

Your breath catches.

He watches you for a beat, waiting. And then—slowly, deliberately—he leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

“Now.”

And you don’t even think about hesitating.

Your pulse hammers in your throat as you move, the quiet click of your seatbelt unfastening echoing through the car. Nico watches you the whole time, his gaze heavy, unrelenting. There’s something electric in the air between you—something charged, buzzing under your skin.

You push open the door, stepping into the crisp night air for only a second before sliding into the backseat. The leather is cool against your legs, but the temperature shift does nothing to settle the heat curling low in your stomach.

And then—Nico is there.

The door shuts behind him, sealing you both inside this space that suddenly feels much smaller. The city outside is nothing but a blur of neon and darkness, but in here? It’s just him.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you—the kind of look that makes you feel like you’re the only thing that exists. His jaw is tight, his breathing a little uneven, like he’s still deciding if he should let this happen.

Like he’s still holding on to that last shred of restraint.

But then you shift slightly, the movement pressing your thigh against his, and that’s all it takes.

Nico moves.

One hand finds your waist, the other tilting your chin up before his mouth crashes against yours. This kiss is different—desperate, all restraint gone. His hands tighten against you, fingers pressing into your skin like he needs to feel you, needs to prove that you’re real.

You let out a soft gasp, and he takes advantage of it, deepening the kiss until your head is spinning. His body is solid against yours, warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt, and god, you want to be closer.

Your fingers find the buttons of his dress shirt, tugging the fabric loose, and Nico exhales sharply against your lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice rough, strained.

You smirk against his mouth. “Good.”

His answering groan is low, barely audible, but then his lips are trailing lower—along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing bare skin, and you shiver, your breath stuttering.

Nico pauses, just for a second, his lips hovering over your collarbone. His breath is uneven, his grip on you firm but careful. Like he’s giving you a chance to stop this.

Like he needs to hear you say it again.

You tilt his chin up, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “I want this,” you whisper. “I want you.”

That’s all it takes.

Nico’s restraint snaps completely, and he’s on you—lips, hands, everywhere. His mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, and you lose yourself in the feeling of it. The heat, the urgency, the way he touches you like he’s been waiting for this forever.

And maybe he has.

Nico kisses like he plays—all in, completely focused, like there’s nothing else in the world but this. But you.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingertips dragging over bare skin, slow and deliberate. He’s not rushing—he’s taking his time, like he’s memorising the way you feel beneath his touch.

And god, it’s almost too much.

Your back hits the leather seat as he leans into you, his weight pressing against yours, warm and solid and so damn good. His lips trail lower, grazing the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, and you feel the shiver roll through you before you can stop it.

Nico notices.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. His tone is somewhere between teasing and concerned, but the way his fingers tighten on your waist tells you exactly what it does to him.

You exhale sharply, your hands fisting in the fabric of his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Not my fault you’re—” You break off with a gasp as his lips press just below your ear.

Nico smirks. “That good?”

Cocky.

You roll your eyes, tugging him down into another kiss, letting your teeth scrape against his bottom lip just enough to make him groan. “Shut up, Hischier.”

His laugh is low, rough. “Make me.”

Challenge accepted.

Your fingers push the rest of his buttons undone, dragging the fabric over his shoulders. His skin is warm beneath your hands, his muscles tensing slightly under your touch. He lets you explore for a moment, but then his hands are on you again, gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And damn, he’s strong.

Your head tips back against the seat, breathing uneven, and Nico takes full advantage, his lips finding the curve of your collarbone. His hands slide lower, thumbs brushing just beneath the waistband of your jeans, and a sharp gasp escapes before you can stop it.

The sound of it goes straight to his ego, because he lifts his head, his lips ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver sparking through your body. "You make the prettiest sounds," he murmurs, voice a low rumble that sinks right down into your core.

You open your mouth to retort, but the only thing that comes out is another gasp as his hand slips lower, fingers skimming along the inside of your thigh.

Your head falls back again, and he takes advantage, pressing his lips against the exposed skin of your throat. He’s barely even touching you, and it’s already making you lightheaded.

“Nico,” you breathe, your fingers finding the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer.

“Hm?”

Nico smiles against your skin, his thumb rubbing small, slow circles against the sensitive skin on your thigh. Not quite high enough to give you what you want.

Tease.

Your hips shift involuntarily as his touch skirts higher, and he chuckles softly, ducking his head to press his face against the side of your neck. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the way his body is still barely touching yours, and somehow, it’s already driving you crazy.

“You’re not getting impatient already, are you?” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

"Shut up," you mutter, but the words come out more breathless than you mean them to. You can feel him grinning against your skin, and goddamnit, you hate that he’s smug about this.

His thumb rubs another lazy circle just at the inside of your knee, his lips skimming over the hollow of your throat. It should be impossible that he can make you feel this much with so little touch, but his fingers are setting your nerve endings on fire, making your thoughts blur together around a single word: more.

"Patience is a virtue, you know." The smirk in his voice is evident, and you have half a mind to smack him for it.

"I’m not exactly known for my virtues," you retort, but the words falter as his hand skates just a little higher up your leg, and god, you’re sure he’s playing with you now.

"Clearly."

His lips move to the other side of your neck, nuzzling against the sensitive skin just below your ear. You shiver when his body presses against yours, sending a slow, burning ache coiling through you.

His thumb teases over the seam of your jeans, tracing mindless patterns as he hums against your neck. "You always this impatient?"

"Only around you, apparently," you grumble, your grip on his shirt tightening as he chuckles softly.

The sound of it rolls over you like a wave. You hate that you love it—how affected you are just by his touch, his voice, his goddamn proximity.

His teeth graze the spot just below your jaw, and a sharp gasp escapes you. You can feel the smirk against your skin, the way your body reacts to his, and you just know he’s enjoying this.

"That so?” His voice drops an octave lower, sending a shock of heat down your spine. “Guess I should feel honoured then, hm?"

And goddamnit, he’s cocky. You want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but all you can manage is a muttered curse as his thumb moves again. It stays there, just teasing, and you swear you almost whine.

He hears it—of course he does—and he chuckles again, the sound of it rumbling against your skin.

"You know, if you want something, you should ask nice

Your retort dies on your tongue when his thumb finally starts moving again. His lips are on your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses that are somehow too much and not enough all at once.

You’re barely holding it together, and he knows it. You can hear it in his voice, see it in the way his gaze keeps darting to your face, like he’s just waiting for you to crack.

“Ask nicely for what? This?” You mutter as you press your hand against the front of his dress pants to palm at his already hard cock, teasing him back.

His hands tighten against your waist on reflex, a low sound escaping him. The smirk finally disappears, replaced by a look of pure heat. It only makes you want to tease him more.

"Tease," he mutters, his grip on you tightening as you push him back against the leather seat. You brace a hand against the headrest, trapping him there, and his eyes darken as your thighs slide into place on either side of his thighs.

"You’re playing with fire," he says, but the warning is half-hearted at best. You watch a muscle in his jaw twitch when your hips shift, grinding down against him.

"Maybe I like it that way."

You lean down, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when his breath stutters at the contact. Then he’s kissing you, his hands sliding down your thighs, gripping with enough force to make you moan against his mouth.

He groans at the sound of it, and you can feel him growing harder beneath you. You press your hips down on purpose this time, and his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you flush against him.

You’d give anything to see his self-control break for good.

This time, you can’t even hear his words in the rush of blood in your head. You’re all too aware of his hands on you, the way his body is hot and taut beneath yours, how he’s reacting to every tiny movement of your body.

But then he’s shifting, flipping you suddenly so you’re on your back, back pressed against the leather seat. He’s on top of you now, his body pinning you down, and you let out a little sound of surprise.

You open your mouth to speak, and your breath catches as he grinds his hips against yours—hard and deliberate. You’re fully aware of how he feels, of how much this is affecting him just as much as it is you.

"Are you gonna keep being a tease," he murmurs, his lips finding your jaw, "or are you gonna take what you want?"

He drops his head, lips dragging down your throat, and it takes all of your self-control not to arch up into him.

“Are you?”

You can feel his smile against your skin, smug, confident—cocky. He shifts slightly, grinding into you again, and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.

"You wanna find out?"

“Yeah,” you can’t help but breathe out.

The smirk is back on his face, growing wider as his fingers skim beneath the hem of your shirt. You inhale sharply at the touch, goosebumps sparking across your skin, but he doesn’t stop there.

He tugs the fabric up, just enough to expose your stomach, and then his lips are on your skin—slow, teasing kisses across your ribs.

You shiver, your head tipping back against the leather. You can’t seem to think straight with Nico’s lips on you like this, his body pressed against your as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin of your ribs.

Your hand slides into his hair, gripping the strands, earning a low groan against your stomach. He looks up then, his gaze dark and heavy, and god, you’ve never wanted anyone more.

He’s hovering just above your hip now, his nose skimming along the skin as his fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. The feel of it makes you shiver, but he’s being too damn careful, his movements deliberate, like he’s trying to be good.

You don’t want him to be good.

You want him to crack.

You lift your hips slightly, desperate for any friction against your skin, but Nico’s hand presses you back down, a barely audible “patience” escaping him.

He’s still teasing, and you’re slowly losing your mind.

"You’re not being fair," you say, and his low laugh vibrates through you. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin as he tugs gently at the button of your jeans.

"Not being fair would be me leaving you like this," he murmurs, teeth scraping over your hip bone. "You know, see how much longer you’d last."

You bite back a curse, your pulse racing at the thought. He hasn’t touched you where you want him yet, but every graze of his fingers has you reeling.

"You wouldn’t do that," you tell him, your breath catching despite your best efforts.

He hums noncommittally, his fingers undoing the button of your jeans now. He slips them off your hips just enough to expose a thin strip of your underwear, and this time a curse actually does fall from your mouth when his thumb skims along the edge.

His breath is hot against your skin. “You sure about that?”

You open your mouth to argue, but your words dissolve into a strangled gasp as his thumb brushes against your clit, and god, you swear your brain short-circuits for a minute.

He’s always had this kind of effect on you, but here in this car, barely hidden from the outside world, it’s more powerful than ever.

He murmurs something you don’t quite catch, and then his mouth is on your hip again, your hands grasping at nothing now, looking for something to ground you to reality.

His thumb presses back against you, a little firmer this time, and your breathing is almost too unsteady now. You try to form a coherent thought, but it’s impossible when he’s everywhere, lighting up every single nerve ending in your body.

His other hand grips your hip, holding you in place as his thumb moves in maddening, lazy circles, and you’re pretty sure he’s torturously, painfully aware of how much you want him.

“You’re already so worked up for me,” he murmurs, shifting to mouth at the spot just below your navel. “So goddamn sensitive.”

“Shut up,” you manage, but the words come out more strained than you mean them to, and you’re pretty sure he can tell.

He chuckles again, low and smug, and you want to wipe that stupid look off his face. But then he presses his thumb down against you again, just a little bit harder this time, and your thoughts go blank, replaced by a string of half-formed curses.

He’s driving you insane on purpose now, his thumb still moving in those torturous circles. You want to press against him, to relieve some of the desperate ache building inside you, but he’s still pinning you down and he’s not letting you.

The worst part is, he’s enjoying this, the cocky bastard. He’s doing it on purpose.

“Please,” escapes your mouth, and to your horror, it comes out as a whine.

He laughs softly against your stomach, and the sound of it makes you shiver all over again. This is borderline cruel, and he obviously knows it. “Please what, sweetheart?”

You bite back a frustrated curse, your hips involuntarily bucking up, searching for more.

“You know what,” you say, and this time your voice is more strangled, raw with need. “I swear, if you don’t—”

“If I don’t what?” he responds, feigning innocence as he nips at your hip again. His thumb is still moving maddeningly slowly, and you swear you’re going to combust if he keeps this up.

“Jesus, Nico—”

“What if I want to just tease you all night?” he murmurs, his mouth on your stomach again. “See just how desperate I can make you before you lose it completely?”

“Don’t really have time for that in a fogged up car parked in an abandoned car park,” you gasp out, tugging at his hair again.

He chuckles again, and the sound of it makes your shiver. He’s enjoying this far too much.

“True,” he concedes, but the deliberate motion of his thumb doesn’t change. “And it’s damn cold out here.” He tugs gently on your jeans. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

“Absolutely not,” you scoff. “I swear if you don’t get inside of me soon—“

Nico goes still for a second, his fingers tightening on your hip. Your words take every last bit of his self-control away.

“That what you want?” he asks, his voice dark and low.

“You already know the answer to that.”

“I wanna hear you say it.” It’s a command, but the words are ragged, edged with a desperation that surprises you.

“Yes, it’s what I want.”

His hands tighten, and he’s suddenly everywhere, all at once. He lifts his head, looking down at you. Your breath is uneven, and you’re sure you look a mess.

“You’re sure?” He asks again, his gaze flickering over your flushed face, searching.

“Nico…please—“

He doesn’t need any more than that.

Everything happens fast, the sounds of unzipping and clothes being pulled off almost too loud in the cramped space. He shifts, pulling you onto his lap, and you shiver at the feel of his skin against yours.

Nico’s hands are on your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh, and the position you’re in makes your breath hitch. You’re straddling his lap, your body pressed flush against his, and it’s too damn much.

His mouth is on your collarbone now, his teeth scraping at the skin, and you can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your mouth.

You’re pressed so close that you can feel every movement, every breath. You’re hyper-aware of the way he’s reacting to you, the way his fingers curl into your thighs with enough force to leave bruises.

He’s leaving marks all over your skin, everywhere his mouth can reach.

“Nico—“ you try to say, but his hips move up on purpose, and the rest of your words dissolve on your tongue as he swiftly, but slowly pushes his cock into you.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth grazing the skin, and you shiver. His hands are on your hips again, moving in slow circles as he guides you to move against him.

He’s driving you out of your goddamn mind, and he knows it. He’s doing it on purpose.

Your head falls back against the window, your breath catching as he repeats the motion, grinding his cock into you again.

“You’re so goddamn sensitive,” he murmurs against your throat. “I could make you cum just like this, if I wanted to.”

The words make your walls clench around him, and my god, he feels it. He groans softly, the sound muffled against your skin.

He’s all over you, hands on your hips, your waist, fingers digging into flesh. You’re already so sensitive and he’s only just started.

You shift on his lap, your fingers gripping his shirt again as you tilt your head, searching for his mouth.

The change in angle lets his tongue slide into your mouth, and you moan against his lips, a sound you’re not sure you even recognise as your own.

He swallows the sound, the movement of his hips growing rougher now, and you swear your head is swimming.

His hand moves between your bodies, making you all too aware of his fingers moving against you, your breathing getting faster, shallower, as he moves against you.

“You’re already so wet,” he says, right against your ear, and the sound of his voice makes your stomach clench. “I bet you’re close, huh?”

You manage to shake your head, not quite trusting your words right now. You’re too far gone, the feel of his body and his hands and his goddamn mouth overwhelming you to the point of not being able to form words.

He can probably tell, judging by the smirk against your throat. “No? Are you sure about that?”

His fingers move again with purpose, thumb pressing down against you, and you can’t help the moan escaping your mouth. Goddamn him and his stupidly talented fingers. He knows exactly what to do, exactly where to touch, exactly how to make you squirm. And he’s enjoying every damn second.

He tugs your earlobe with his teeth, his voice right against your ear. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “let go for me.”

The words almost do you in, but you’re stubborn, and you’re determined to hold out for as long as possible just to make him keep going. “Not yet,” you gasp out, your fingers gripping his shirt.

“Not yet?” He hums softly, his thumb doing an even slower, more deliberate circle. “I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re already squeezing and leaking all over my cock.”

His words make you shiver again, and damn him, he probably feels it. “I’m not that close,” you insist, but it sounds weak even to your own ears.

He’s laughing softly now, the sound low and ragged against your throat. “Liar.” His teeth scrape along the line of your collarbone.

There’s no point in denying it anymore—he probably knows more than you do at this point. You’re right on the edge, your body coiled tight, and he’s enjoying that fact a little too much.

You’re gripping his hair hard now, desperately trying to hold on to some sense of control. His thumb is moving faster, and every tiny movement makes your body shudder. You’re so damn close, the edge of that blissful oblivion within reach.

“Nico—“

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as strained as yours now. “I wanna hear you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

“You…you too…” you manage to practically whimper out.

“You want us to cum together?” He asks, and the low raspy sound of his voice in your ear only spurs you on more. You’re nodding, not trusting your words in the slightest.

His mouth finds yours again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, hot and desperate. He’s holding on to whatever control he has left, his body taut under yours, and you realize he’s already close.

You shiver at the thought. You want to cum together, want to push him over the edge with you. Just thinking about it sends an extra jolt of heat through you, making you gasp against his lips.

“Please,” you manage to breathe out, your voice ragged and broken. “I’m so close, I—“

“I know, sweetheart.” His mouth finds the spot just below your ear again, nipping gently. “God, I know. I’ve got you, okay? Let go for me.”

His thumb is moving again, faster than before, and you can’t hold on anymore. You’re right on the edge, the sensations all too much, your body trembling as you cum hard. You’re saying his name, a litany of broken syllables, and he’s murmuring something against your ear but you can’t quite make it out.

You’re still shuddering through the aftershocks when you feel him twitch inside you, his hands grasping at your body as he cums deep inside you.

You lay against him for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breath, the air in the cramped space heavy and thick.

His arms wrap around you, his breathing slow and steady again, his lips brushing against your forehead. You’re still trembling, your heart still hammering in your chest, but you’re too blissed out to form words.

Nico’s arms tighten around you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “You okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

You manage to nod, your head still against his chest. “Yeah,” you breathe out after a minute. “Just…give me a minute. My brain is still rebooting.”

He laughs softly, and you can feel the vibrations reverberating through to you. “I might have done a number on you, huh?” He sounds unfairly smug, and you pinch his arm in retaliation.

“Don’t get too cocky.” You’re grumbling, but there’s no real annoyance behind the words. He’s right, and you damn well know it.

“Me?” He feigns innocent surprise, his hand slipping down to the small of your back. “Me? Cocky? Never.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re too relaxed to be truly irritated with him right now. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” You press a kiss against his chest, your fingers tracing lightly over his skin.

He hums softly, his fingers sliding up to your hair, playing with the strands absentmindedly. He’s still caught in that lazy, relaxed state, content in the quiet afterglow.

You’re silent for a moment, just enjoying the sound of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “I should probably move,” you say finally. “This car is starting to get cold, but I don’t think I’m quite capable of moving on my own yet.”

He laughs softly, and you feel the sound all the way to your core. “It is getting pretty cold,” he agrees. “We should get out of here.”

He starts to shift, moving to sit up. His hands slide to your hips, gently lifting you off his cock.

You shiver as your bare skin hits the cold air, and Nico grabs his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. It’s a little too big, but it’s still warm with his body heat, and you pull it tighter around yourself as he pulls your panties and jeans back into place.

He pulls his own boxers and dress pants up, his shirt rumpled from where you’d been groping at it earlier. His hair is a little mussed, too, and the sight of it makes you smile. It’s nice to know you managed to wreck his composure, even if just a little bit.

He catches you looking, and a smirk spreads across his face. “Enjoying the view?”

You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.

You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.

The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that you’ve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.

That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.

You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.

Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the team’s rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.

The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.

You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Luke’s own Jersey on your back—another perk of the large donation— while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.

Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.

You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a ‘WAG’ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.

Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.

“Honeybee, I promise it’ll be fine. They probably won’t even focus on us, anyways. They’ll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but it’s likely they’ll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice you’re with me,” Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.

Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.

You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Luke’s BMW, you realized you were wrong.

“I’m just nervous, Luke,” you tell him quietly. “I know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate it’s going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then it’ll feel like I’m under a microscope.”

Luke’s soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.

“I know, sweet girl. But I promise, I’ll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?” he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.

You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You don’t want to be difficult, just invisible.

“No, I don’t want to overcomplicate things. It’s fine. Like you said, I’m sure they’ll mostly focus on everyone else,” you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.

“Well then, it’s time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of it in your future,” he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.

He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.

“C’mon, Honeybee. Go with me?” Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.

Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.

“Only if you hold my hand,” you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.

“Always,” he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.

“Well, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,” Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.

Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.

“Figured it can’t be that hard if you do it all the time,” you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Luke’s relationship.

Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.

On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime there’s a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.

“Oh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Let’s see you do this,” Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.

You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.

“Alright, Jack, that’s enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,” you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.

“Hey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.

“Don’t act like you have to have a reason to show off, it’s just your natural state,” you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

“You got me there,” Jack doesn’t argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.

“Jack! Luke! Over here!” you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.

You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.

Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,” he assures you once he makes sure you’re steady enough to be left alone.

You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that you’re completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.

The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.

You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.

“See, told you there was nothing to worry about,” Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.

“Luke! How about a shot of you and your lady!” the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.

“Nah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,” Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.

“Oh, c’mon, man. The fans will love it!” the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.

“He said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesn’t want her picture taken,” Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.

The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. “Fine, whatever,” the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.

“Thanks, you guys,” you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.

“I told you, no pictures if you don’t want them,” Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.

The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.

Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.

“You cold, Honeybee?” Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly in here. Not that you’d know,” you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.

He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.

“Here, take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold,” he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.

You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.

Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.

“Alright, let’s get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,” he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.

After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.

The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.

You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.

Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.

You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Luke’s teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.

Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.

The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.

The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.

Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldn’t find that anger within yourself.

The pictures showcased yours and Luke’s love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didn’t care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.

All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Luke’s face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.

So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to be taken down, because you didn’t care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.