How these NHL players react to there S/O being hit on
Quinn Hughes, Jack Hughes, Luke Hughes, Clayton Keller, Will Smith, Macklin Celebrini, Sidney Crosby, William Eklund, Juraj Slafkovský, Cole Caufield, Connor bedard, Trevor Zegras, Adam Fantilli, Kent Johnson x F!Reader
Warnings - Jealousy / possessiveness, Mild emotional tension, Brief mentions of flirting, Light physical touch (hand on back, arm around shoulders, etc.), Soft angst but overall fluff
A/N - first reaction fic in a hot minute and of the new year so apologies if it’s not amazing but I hope you all enjoy 💕💕
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Quinn Hughes
Quinn notices before you do. He’s leaning against the counter, half-listening, when someone steps a little too close to you. Too familiar. His jaw tightens—not angry, just… aware. He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t glare. He waits. And when you finally turn back toward him, he steps closer, shoulder brushing yours like it’s accidental. His hand rests at the small of your back, grounding. “You ready?” he asks calmly. But his thumb presses in, just enough to say mine without ever saying it out loud.
Jack Hughes
Jack clocks it instantly and hates how casual the flirting feels. The laugh. The lean-in. He slides in beside you like it’s nothing, arm draped loosely over your shoulders. “What’re we talking about?” he asks, grin sharp but playful. The other guy backs off immediately. Jack looks down at you, smirking. “You okay?” It’s teasing, but his fingers tap against your arm like he’s checking you’re still there. Later, quieter, he admits he didn’t love seeing someone else make you smile like that.
Luke Hughes
Luke freezes a little when he sees it. He’s not great at jealousy yet—it hits him all at once. He watches you laugh at something someone else says, and his chest tightens. He doesn’t interrupt right away, just waits, fidgeting. When you come back to him, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath. “Were they bothering you?” he asks softly. When you say no, just flirting, he nods… then reaches for your hand anyway, like reassurance for both of you.
Clayton Keller
Clayton stays polite. Too polite. He smiles, chats with someone else nearby, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. When the flirting gets obvious, he finally steps in, wrapping an arm around your waist with practiced ease. “There you are,” he says warmly. His grip tightens just slightly. Later, when you tease him about it, he admits it bothered him more than he expected. “I trust you,” he says. “I just don’t love sharing your attention.”
Will Smith
Will’s reaction is quiet but intense. He watches from across the room, unreadable, jaw set. He doesn’t rush in. Doesn’t interrupt. When you finally meet his eyes, there’s something heavy there—hurt mixed with restraint. He pulls you aside gently. “Were you okay?” When you say yes, he nods, but his voice drops. “I don’t get jealous easily,” he admits. “But seeing someone else look at you like that? Yeah. Didn’t love that.” His hand lingers in yours longer than usual.
Macklin Celebrini
Macklin tries to be mature about it. He tells himself it’s nothing. Still, he drifts closer, listening in, inserting himself into the conversation just enough to shift the dynamic. When the flirting fades, he relaxes. Later, he laughs it off—until he doesn’t. “I didn’t think it’d bug me,” he admits, quieter now. “But I didn’t like feeling like I could lose you.” He looks embarrassed, honest. “Guess that means I care more than I thought.”
Sidney Crosby
Sidney notices instantly—and handles it smoothly. He joins the conversation with calm confidence, redirecting without confrontation. The flirting stops almost immediately. He keeps things light, respectful. Later, when it’s just the two of you, he admits it did register. “I don’t mind people noticing you,” he says evenly. “I just like being the one you come back to.” His hand squeezes yours, steady and sure, like he never doubted it—but still wanted to say it out loud.
William Eklund
William’s reaction is more emotional than he expects. He tries to joke about it, but there’s a flicker of insecurity he can’t hide. When you rejoin him, he leans into you, resting his forehead briefly against yours. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says softly. “I just…” He shrugs. “Didn’t like how easy it was for someone else to imagine themselves with you.” His smile returns after—but it’s gentler now, more protective.
Juraj Slafkovský
Juraj’s jealousy shows in his body language. He straightens, crosses the room in a few long steps, and stands beside you—tall, solid, unmistakable. He doesn’t say much, just places a hand on your lower back and meets the other person’s eyes calmly. The message lands. Later, he grins when you tease him about it. “What?” he says. “I wasn’t mad.” He leans closer. “Just reminding them you’re not available.”
Cole Caufield
Cole’s reaction is half teasing, half sulky. He pouts exaggeratedly when you come back, earning a laugh from you. “Oh, so that’s your type now?” he jokes. But later, when it’s quiet, he admits it bothered him. “I know it’s dumb,” he says. “I just don’t like feeling like I have competition.” He relaxes when you kiss his cheek. “Okay,” he smiles. “Worth it.”
Connor Bedard
Connor doesn’t know what to do at first. He watches, heart racing, feeling something sharp and unfamiliar. When you return, he’s quieter than usual. You notice immediately. When you ask, he hesitates, then admits, “I didn’t like that.” It’s simple. Honest. He looks almost embarrassed. “Not because of you. Just… because I care.” He relaxes when you reassure him, shoulders finally dropping like he’d been holding tension the whole time.
Trevor Zegras
Trevor reacts instantly—dramatically. He slides in with a grin, arm around you, charisma turned all the way up. “Sorry,” he says to the other person, smiling sweetly. “They’re taken.” Later, he laughs it off, but there’s an edge beneath the humor. “I trust you,” he says. “I just don’t trust anyone who looks at you like they’re already planning a future.” He kisses your temple, playful but sincere.
Adam Fantilli
Adam’s reaction is subtle but heavy. He watches the interaction, jaw clenched, hands shoved into his pockets. When it ends, he exhales slowly. “That guy was flirting with you,” he says, not accusing—just stating a fact. When you agree, he nods. “Yeah. Didn’t love that.” He steps closer, voice quieter. “Not because I don’t trust you. Just because I don’t like the idea of someone else wanting what I have.”
Kent Johnson
Kent tries to pretend he doesn’t notice—but he does. He makes a joke when you come back, something light, but his eyes search your face. Later, when it’s just you two, he admits it caught him off guard. “I didn’t think I’d care,” he says softly. “Turns out, I do.” He smiles sheepishly. “A lot.” He reaches for your hand, fingers lacing together like a quiet promise.
