There's something about jack drury that just tells me he's not as sweet and innocent as he seems. Boy is a FREAK in the sheets and I'll stand by that
nsfw content below
jack kisses like he speaksâsoft, careful, like heâs worried you might break under his hands. but when you shift in his lap, pressing closer, his fingers tighten on your hip. not rough, not yet, but thereâs something there, something wound tight under all that golden-boy sweetness.
you test it. move again, just a little grind, andâoh. his breath hitches, barely more than a whisper against your mouth, but his grip clenches, and when he exhales, itâs a slow, shuddering thing.
âfuck,â he murmurs, like heâs scolding himself, and his hands are already smoothing down your back, settling on your ass. not squeezing, not pushingâjust holding, feeling.
you want to tease him, make some crack about him being shy, but then he shifts under you, and you feel it. fuck. not shy at all.
his lips are back on yours before you can say anything, and itâs different nowâhungrier, mouth parting, tongue slipping in to taste. still careful, but not in the same way. not because heâs timid, but because heâs taking his time. like heâs savoring it. savoring you.
his fingers flex on your ass, just a little, and he hums against your lips. âbeen thinking about this all night.â
his voice hasnât changed. still soft, still sweet. but his hands start to move, slow, dragging over your thighs, slipping under your shirt, his palms warm against your skin. he doesnât rush, just traces, like heâs mapping every inch.
his breath brushes your ear when he speaks again. âyou donât mind if i take my time, do you?â
your hands bury in his hair, and you donât care if it messes up that perfectly tousled blond mop. âplease,â you breathe, and you feel him smile against your jaw.
his fingers dip lower, teasing at the waistband of your pants. âgood,â he says, still so gentle. still so fucking polite. and thenâthen he yanks your hips down, grinding you against him, and the sound you make is embarrassing, but he just groans, quiet but wrecked.
his other hand comes up, slides under your chin, tilting your head back just enough so he can kiss down your throat. open-mouthed, slow, a tease. his teeth scrape, but he doesnât biteânot yet. heâs playing with you.
his fingers work your button open, then your zipper, the whole time moving so fucking unhurried, like youâve got all the time in the world, like heâs perfectly content to just sit here and ruin you inch by inch.
his voice is still so soft when he asks, âyou gonna let me have you right here?â
summary: caught between your love for jack and your father's strict rules about dating players, you find yourself navigating the thrill and weight of a secret romance.
warnings: secret relationship, forbidden relationship, reader is coaches daughter + teammates sister, pretending that skylar isn't with the ahl team in chicago and is on the roster.
wc: 3.80k
notes: jack drury fic! i don't know a ton about him off the ice so i hope this is good. thank u to the anon who requested!
As everyone knows, the last thing you ever want to do is cross Rod BrindâAmourâa fact you understand all too well as his daughter. Thatâs why itâs a surprise, even to you, that you ended up in a relationship with Jack Drury, one of his players, breaking the strict âno fraternizing with the teamâ rule heâd always imposed on you. You would feel bad for disobeying your father if it werenât for the fact that you were head over heels for Jack.
Keeping the relationship under wraps wasnât easy, but you both agreed it was for the best. The risk of your dad finding out â and the reaction that you knew would result from that â was enough to keep you both cautious. Growing up, you'd heard countless stories from your dadâs former teammates and players about his fierce dedication and unwavering standards. Those standards extended beyond the ice, especially when it came to you and Skylar.
It wasnât that Jack wasnât good enough. Far from it. He was everything your dad would probably want for youâloyal, kind, respectful, with a work ethic that rivaled your fatherâs own. But the idea of dating someone on the team went against every guideline Rod had set, a boundary he made clear for you and Skylar growing up.
Despite the careful hiding, sneaking around brought a thrill you hadnât expected. Late-night meet-ups after practice, stolen kisses in hidden corridors, and text messages that had to be deleted as soon as you read them were all part of the secret that bound you and Jack even closer. And, to your surprise, you found that these stolen moments made you fall for him even more.
At first, sneaking around with Jack felt almost like a game. You both laughed about the lengths youâd go to keep everything hiddenâtiming phone calls to avoid your dad, coordinating schedules so you could âbump into each otherâ outside the rink without raising suspicion, and finding creative ways to communicate without leaving a digital trail. Every stolen glance or quick touch that no one else noticed made your heart race. The secrecy added an exhilarating spark, something just for the two of you that no one else could touch.
You joked with Jack about the lengths you went to: how youâd pretend not to notice each other at team events, how heâd throw you a subtle wink from across a room when no one else was looking, and how youâd meet up in empty stairwells of the Lenovo Centre. Jack always kept things light-hearted, his playful grin reassuring you that as long as you were together, it would be worth the risk.
But as the months passed, the thrill started to wear thin, replaced by a longing for something simpler. The constant need to look over your shoulder or keep your voice low when you talked about him to your friends began to feel more like a weight. Youâd catch yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to hold his hand in public or just have him over for dinner without the worry of your dad or brother finding out.
And it wasnât just the sneaking around that was exhausting; it was how much you missed out on. When the team had get-togethers, you couldnât be by his side, even though you wanted to support him. Sometimes, heâd mention a charity event or team dinner, and youâd have to laugh it off, pretending it didnât sting that you couldnât be there openly. As his career milestones came and went, you wanted to celebrate with him, to be the one cheering the loudest. Instead, you found yourself watching from afar, silently, wishing things could be different.
And now not only was the hiding becoming a weight between you and Jack, it was getting harder and harder to manage, and the cracks began to show. You could feel the pressure building, the constant vigilance required to keep everything under wraps growing harder to manage.
There were moments when the secrecy felt like it was taking more than it was giving. Every time you saw Jack after practice, there was a part of you that wanted to shout your feelings from the rooftops. But, instead, you shared a fleeting smile or a brief touch, both of you hyper-aware of every passing moment. Whenever you were at the rink and youâd run into your dad, your stomach would twist in knots, and youâd pray that he wouldnât catch sight of Jack orâworseâmake the connection. The thought of your father, who had built his career on discipline and loyalty, discovering that you were breaking one of his cardinal rules, made your heart race with a mixture of dread and guilt.
But it wasnât just your dad that made the situation complicated. It was Skylar. Your brother, who had always been protective of you, was starting to catch on to your avoidance. The way you always seemed to have an excuse to leave early when he invited you to hang out, the way you deflected questions about who you were spending time with outside of work â Skylar had always been perceptive, and he was no fool. You could see it in his eyes. Heâd give you those knowing glances whenever you seemed a little too distracted, or when your phone would buzz with a text message from Jack and youâd panic, quickly pocketing it before he saw.
The strain was becoming too much, and you were growing worried that it wouldnât be long before one of them, probably Skylar, would piece it together. Every time you met Jack in a secluded corner of the rink or snuck away for a quick coffee, there was a part of you that dreaded being caught. If your dad or brother saw you and Jack together, even for a moment, all your carefully constructed walls would come crashing down.
One night, with your dad out for a dinner meeting with Eric Tulsky and a few of the Hurricanesâ execs, youâd invited Jack over, excited to finally let him into your world a little deeper. Youâd barely gotten him through the door before you were wrapped around each other, muffling laughter and eager whispers as you stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom. For once, he was in your spaceâsomewhere that felt like an extension of yourself, familiar and intimate. Jack looked around, taking in the room heâd only heard about: the bulletin board crowded with photos, ticket stubs, and other keepsakes; shelves overflowing with books and childhood mementos; the whole room exuding a soft, cozy warmth.
As he wandered, his fingers traced along your cluttered desk, a slight smile on his lips as he absorbed the details. Then, his gaze landed on a photo pinned to the board, and he plucked it down before you could stop him. âOh my gosh,â he teased, grinning as he held it up to inspect. âYou with glasses, pigtails, and⊠are those sequins on your jeans?â
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you tried to grab the picture back. âIt was a phase. And, anyway, I donât think Mr. âneon-green frosted tips for the playoffsâ has any room to talk about style choices.â
He gasped, mock-offended, holding the photo just out of reach. âHey, that was iconic. This, on the other handâŠâ He squinted at it, chuckling. âI need to know how many days you rocked the bedazzled denim look.â
With a smirk, you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his chest, pinning him with a look that was half-daring, half-teasing. âDo you really want to spend tonight making fun of my middle school fashion choices? Or⊠maybe we could get back to what weâre really here for?â
Jackâs laughter faded, replaced by that familiar, mischievous glint. He leaned down, voice softer, warmer. âAlright, you win,â he murmured, his hands settling around your waist. âYouâre way more distracting than a photo ever could be.â With a gentle smile, he placed the photo back on the board and turned fully to you, and as he drew you in.
Your hands drifted to his shoulders, his fingers trailing up your sides, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. You pulled Jack to your bed, easing him back onto the plush comforter, propping one leg on either side of his hips. Jackâs lips brushed softly along your neck, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling the closeness of him, the quiet thrill of sneaking him into your space. His hands traced under the hem of your top, tugging it up, and you broke apart just long enough to pull off your shirts, casting them aside as you reconnected in a kiss that deepened, stealing your breath.
You were so wrapped up in him, so blissfully unaware, that the sudden slam of a car door outside might as well have been thunder. You jolted, pulling away, and Jackâs lips left a small, bewildered whimper at the abrupt loss of contact. âDid you hear that?â you whispered, heart racing.
âHear what?â he asked, clearly not wanting to hear anything but the steady hum of the moment between you.
You slipped off his lap, crept to the window, and pulled the curtain back just enough to peek through. There it was â your dadâs SUV parked once again in the driveway. Panic clawed at your stomach as you hissed, âShit!â
Jackâs face went pale as the sound of keys jingling met your ears from downstairs. His expression mirrored yours â frozen panic â as he took in the narrow confines of your room, seeming to realize in real time that hiding nearly six feet of hockey player was no small feat.
âCloset,â you whispered sharply, tugging him in that direction. He stifled a laugh, squeezing himself into the cramped space, giving you a look that was somewhere between grateful and bewildered as you shut the doors.
You dashed back to the bed, frantically tugging your shirt back on and running a hand through your hair, grabbing your phone and slipping on your headphones. You quickly ran back to the closet, cracking open the doors. âStay quiet,â you said. âDonât come out until I come and get you and the coast is all clear.â
Just as you returned to the bed and threw the blanket over your legs, the door creaked open, and there was your dad, standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
âHey,â he said, pausing, taking in the sight of you with the unmistakable air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. âWho were you talking to?â
You gave him what you hoped was an effortlessly casual smile, lifting your phone to show you were on a call. âOh, just a friend from school. Sheâs, uh, going through some stuff, so Iâm keeping her company on the phone,â you replied, praying he couldnât hear your pulse thundering in your chest.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it entirely but also not wanting to pry too deeply. âRight, okay,â he said slowly. âWell, Iâll let you get back to it. But maybe keep it down, alright?â
You nodded, trying to look as unaffected as possible. âWill do,â you said with a small, too-casual smile, watching as he lingered for one last beat before closing the door.
As soon as you heard his footsteps fade down the hallway, you practically collapsed back onto the bed in relief. After a beat, the closet door creaked open, and Jack stepped out, eyes wide and lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to laugh.
âOh my god,â he whispered, still grinning, âI thought I was going to get caught.â
You clapped a hand over your mouth, half-relieved, half-ready to burst into laughter at the situation. "I thought we were both done for," you muttered, letting out a soft, breathy laugh as Jack joined you on the bed. He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, eyes still gleaming with barely restrained laughter.
Jack propped himself up on one elbow, glancing over at you. "You know, one day, weâre going to have to tell people. I mean, if I got caught hiding in your closet tonight, I donât think I could ever live it down." He chuckled, but his words held a trace of seriousness, hinting at the future you both knew was looming.
You sighed, the humor fading a bit as reality set back in. "I know," you admitted quietly. "I just⊠I worry about how my dad and Skylar will react. I mean, they know you as a player, as a teammate. But as⊠as the guy Iâm with?" You trailed off, unsure of how to put your feelings into words.
Jack reached over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his expression softening. âThey know me as the guy whoâs dedicated to the team, who works hard. And Iâd be dedicated to you, too. Thatâs all they need to know. BesidesâŠâ He smirked a little, trying to lighten the moment. âSkylar and I have been in a locker room together more than enough. He probably knows more about me than he ever wanted to.â
You laughed, shaking your head. "You donât know my dad like I do. Heâs seen me as his little girl for so long. And Skylar, well⊠heâs overprotective." You glanced down, picking at the blanket as the weight of their potential reactions settled on you. "I just donât want them to think⊠I donât know, that weâre crossing some sort of line."
âWhat? Rod would never overreact to anything!â Jack said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You give him a shove but recognize that Jack would likely know exactly how your dad would react to finding out about the two of you.
Jack let out a small, sympathetic smile, and his fingers found yours, intertwining gently as he looked into your eyes. "Hey," he said softly, "no matter how it goes, Iâm here. Even if Rod loses his mind or Skylar thinks he needs to 'protect' you from me â I'm not going anywhere." His voice was steady, his eyes holding a quiet confidence that made you feel both reassured and grounded.
You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart swell at his words. âYou really mean that?â
âAbsolutely,â he replied, his eyes steady and sincere. âI want them to know that youâre safe with me, that Iâd do anything to make you happy. They deserve that reassurance, and I want to give it to them.â He paused, a playful glint returning to his gaze. âBut maybe not when Iâm sneaking out of your closet at two in the morning.â
You both burst out laughing again, the tension breaking as the comfort of the moment settled around you. Pulling Jack close, you rested your head on his shoulder, a sense of peace washing over you.
âOne dayâ you murmured, almost to yourself. âBut not tonight.â
Jack nodded, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle squeeze. âWhenever youâre ready. Iâll be here.â
As the days went on, though, the secrecy only grew harder. Youâd thought you could keep your relationship under wraps with a bit of careful planning and a few white lies, but you hadnât anticipated how deeply youâd crave being able to share your life with Jack openly. Every time youâd pass him in the halls of the Lenovo Centre having to pass by him like you didnât know him as anyone more than one of your dad's players. Or every quick squeeze of his hand when no one was looking. It was beginning to feel like a delicate balancing act â one slip, and it would all come tumbling down.
Your dad had started to notice your little âdisappearances,â the times youâd claim to be studying with friends or heading out to run an errand but were actually meeting Jack. And Skylar, perceptive as ever, kept teasing you, asking if your newfound happiness was because the Canes were doing so well or if someone was responsible for it. Youâd brush it off with a laugh, but deep down, you knew it couldnât go on like this.
So when Jack suggested a simple date â just the two of you at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant for dinner â you felt a rush of relief. No sneaking, no hiding in closets, just a normal evening where you could enjoy each otherâs company without the pressure of prying eyes. The restaurant was quiet, candlelit, and tucked away, and for once, you almost allowed yourself to believe you were truly alone.
The two of you slipped into comfortable conversation, laughing over the menu as Jack exaggerated his disgust at any mention of seafood, and you felt that familiar warmth, that thrilling ease that made you wish every night could be like this. But as you raised your glass for another sip, you noticed Jackâs gaze shift from your face, over your shoulder, to somewhere behind you, his smile suddenly faltering.
Before you could turn around, Jackâs hand took yours that was resting on the table, giving a gentle squeeze, trying to soothe you as he leaned in and whispered, âDonât freak out, okay? But I think⊠your dad and Skylar just walked in.â
Your heart plummeted, eyes wide as your head whipped around to confirm Jackâs words. Sure enough, there they were, standing with some friends of your family. They scanned the room, not seeming to have noticed you yet, but your carefully secret relationship was now hanging in the balance.
You quickly turned back to Jack, lifting your menu as if it could shield you from view, heart hammering in your chest. âOf all the restaurantsâŠâ you muttered under your breath, feeling the moment's weight settle heavily.
Jack looked at you with steady, gentle eyes. âHey, itâs okay. If they see us, weâll handle it,â he said softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles over the back of your hand. âNo more hiding, right?â
You nodded, dropping the menu back to the table, feeling the words sink in and taking comfort in Jackâs reassuring touch. You both kept your heads down, focusing on each other and praying the waiter would come quickly to take your orders. But a few moments later, footsteps approached, and you knew it was too late to keep pretending.
âHey, you two,â came a familiar voice. You looked up to see your dad and Skylar standing by your table. Your dadâs expression was stoic, with no reaction to the sight of you two showing. Skylar, however, had a shit-eating grin on his face. There was no escaping it now.
With a deep breath, you tightened your hold on Jackâs hand and mustered a smile. âHi, Dad. Hi, Sky,â you greeted, hoping your voice didnât sound as nervous as you felt.
Skylar folded his arms, raising an eyebrow as he glanced between you and Jack. âCare to explain?â he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You glared at your older brother who was clearly finding enjoyment in this.
Jack cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. âSir, Iâd⊠Weâve been seeing each other for a while now, and we didnât want you to hear about it from someone else. We just⊠wanted to be careful with how it might look, with the team and all.â
Your dadâs face remained unreadable for a moment, eyes flickering from you to Jack as he processed. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and you held your breath, waiting for some sign of his reaction. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening slightly as he looked back at you.
âAs long as youâre happy, thatâs all that matters,â he said, his tone calm but sincere. âItâs important that youâre with someone who respects you â someone whoâs going to be good to you.â
A wave of relief washed over you, and you felt your shoulders relax as you smiled. âThank you, Dad.â
You turned to look at Skylar who was now eyeing Jack, suddenly serious. Finally, he huffed, breaking the silence. âAlright, alright⊠I know Jackâs a good guy. But you know Iâll kick his ass if he ever does anything to hurt you, right?â He shot Jack a warning look, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Jack laughed softly, nodding. âUnderstood. Iâll make sure you donât have to.â
A smile broke across your face, and you felt the last of your fears dissolve. âThank you, both of you,â you said, your voice soft with gratitude. âI just⊠I donât want this to affect anything between you guys as teammates or between you guys as coach and player.â
Your dad nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Jack. âWeâll figure it out. Just promise me youâll be open with us going forward, okay? No more hiding in closets or pretending to study at friendsâ houses.â
Your smile dropped, a bright red hue flashing across your cheeks as you remembered shoving Jack into your cramped closet a month ago when your dad suddenly came home. âYou knew?â
Your dad raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through his usually serious demeanor. âIâm your father. Of course, I knew,â he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. âAlso, he left his team jacket on your desk chair. It says Drury on the shoulder.â
Skylar snorted, unable to contain his laughter. âThe closet? Really?â he teased, shaking his head.
âWhat did you want me to do? Tell him to jump out the window?â you argued.
Your dad rolled his eyes but softened, his gaze landing on you both with a newfound acceptance. âJust⊠next time, try a little honesty instead of extreme hiding tactics. Iâd rather know than worry about you sneaking around.â His voice was gentle, a tone he rarely used outside of family moments, and it only reassured you that he was really okay with this.
You nodded, feeling more at ease than you had in months. âI promise. No more hiding, Dad.â
Your dad and Skylar exchanged a look, something unspoken but approving passing between them before they glanced back at you. âAlright, weâll leave you two to your dinner,â your dad said, giving you a warm nod. âBut I expect to see him at dinner on Sunday night and be properly introduced to your boyfriend.â
As they walked away, you and Jack exchanged a relieved laugh, your hands still intertwined. Jack lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. âWell, that went better than expected,â he murmured, his eyes twinkling with both relief and affection.
You smiled, feeling lighter than ever. âYeah, I think weâre officially in the clear.â
Jack leaned in, his voice low and teasing. âSo, does that mean no more closets?â
You laughed, squeezing his hand. âNo more closets,â you agreed.
requesting a jack drury blurb where you and him have a daughter that absolutely despises hockey + jack is sad about it because thatâs his only kid and he wanted to raise another hockey playerđ«¶
a/n: here you go nonnie 𧥠Iâm not the most familiar with Jack Drury, but I hope you still like it!
Jack had always thought that when he became a father, heâd get to have a little mini-me to teach about hockey. He thought theyâd be able to bond over it, getting on the ice together and giggling about failed shots. When he did finally have a daughter, he was so ready for that to become his reality, but by the time she was big enough to learn to skate, he had to come to the harsh realization that wouldnât be happening.
Evelyn was his pride and joy from the moment you gave birth to her, and as much as he loves you, Jack knew heâd never love anyone the way he loves his little Evie. He introduced into his world as much as he could, but as she got older, she decided she hated hockey. Unfortunately for Jack, that never really went away.
Now, he was dealing with a teenager who not only complained every time she had to attend one of his games but also left the room any time the topic of hockey came up. He didnât understand what brought this hatred on, but it did break his heart. She was his babygirl, his only child. He wanted to share this important piece of his life with her, but it turns into an argument every time he tries. He had told you many times how he felt like Evie hated him, not the sport, and your heart breaks just the same every time. Youâve encouraged him to just have a conversation with her, but he swears it would just make it worse.
Tonight, Jack has a home, a rather important one considering it could determine Carolinaâs playoff eligibility. He wants Evie to be there. You know he does, but you also know Evie will put up a fight. When that fight does happen, just after Jack wakes up from his pre game nap, itâs intense. After hearing her bedroom door slam, you try to comfort Jack, and when you think enough time has passed, you make him go talk to her in her room.
âEvie,â he knocks on her door quietly, âcan I come in sweetie? I think we should talk.â He hears a muffled response from his daughter and takes it as the okay to come in. âIs there a specific reason you donât want to come to my games? Iâm not gonna make you go. I just wanna try to fix this.â
âItâs dumb,â Evelyn trails off, not sure sheâs ready to let her dad in.
âI swear I wonât think itâs dumb. If itâs affecting you this much, itâs important to me.â
The girl sighs, âI just- Hockey takes you from me.â She says it so softly heâs not sure he heard her correctly. After noticing his questioning look, she continues, âYou were gone all the time. You missed so much, and I remember so many birthdays where my only wish was to see you. Not celebrate with you a few days before or after. I wanted to see you on my birthday, but that rarely ever happened, and itâs still rare. I feel like youâve missed out on so much of my life, and itâs all because of hockey. So why would I support that sport when it steals you away from me.â
Jack can feel his heart break seeing his daughter cry, especially knowing heâs the cause of those tears. âOh sweetheart, all you had to do was tell me. Thatâs why Iâve always pushed you into learning more about hockey. I know I have to devote a lot of time to my job, and I hate it as much as you do. Please never think that I enjoy not being here for you or your mom. Thatâs why Iâve always tried to bring you into the hockey world though. I thought it would be a good way for us to bond, to make up for the time I have to miss.â
âWe can bond in other ways, Dad.â
âYouâre right, and I shouldâve thought of that. Iâll tell you what. You pick new ways for us to spend time together. Iâll do whatever you ask, as long as you come to my games more often. I need my lucky charm there.â
âIâm your lucky charm?â
âYeah, kiddo. At the very first game you went to I got a hat trick. Youâve been my lucky charm ever since.â
âI guess you havenât been very lucky lately then huh?â She looks down at her lap.
âIâm doing okay. Iâd just be doing better if you were there,â he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
âOkay. I can do that.â
âYeah?â His heart swells with hope.
âYeah. Iâll go to games as long as I can pick bonding activities,â she holds her hand up for a pinkie promise, just like they used to when she was little.
âThat sounds good,â he connects his pinkie with hers, happy they seemed to work everything out.
While working on an art piece for my other blog, I was looking through assets and saw this skin from Just Dance 2018
Am I seeing things or is that a panda in the moon? Doubt it's meant to be considered canon but the potential lore implications?
Do you guys think it's an in universe myth that there's a panda face on the moon (equivalent to the "man on the moon"), or (and this WOULD fit Danceverses logic) does a Danceverse actually have a moon with Panda's face on it?
