nhl imagines

stalker, jack hughes

tw: swearing for this chapter, but an extremely dark-themed series ahead

It was a typical night, shitty, but how his year was going, shitty was usual. He didn't feel like playing, he didn't want to be in this arena, he didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to sit at home and push away every reminder of hockey. That's how shitty his rookie year had been. He was surrounded by people calling him 'pretty boy Hughes.' People constantly doubted him, leading him to doubt himself in every aspect.

It was shitty, he had no motivation to keep playing hockey.

It was yet another game where he was getting thrown into the boards and getting stolen every opportunity of scoring.

He finally lost it. Every comment running through his head, destroying every sense of logic and control he ever had. It all went away, he saw nothing but red. He rammed the defensemen that was riding his ass into the boards. It turned out to be an 'illegal' check and he was sent to the sin bin for roughing.

He was really really fucking frustrated, but he tried to keep his cool. The last time he lost his cool, he broke a stick and it went viral. Let's just say the ridiculing got worse, so he needed to keep it together.

He practically felt the steam and rage rolling off of him. He strategically placed his stick in front of the penalty box camera, he didn't want the public to see this hidden side of him. The fucked up-dark part of him. The side where Jack wasn't Jack anymore. He was just a dark void of anger and bad decisions.

He could see the time slowly counting down to where he could leave this fucking box. He could feel his fingernails slowly cutting crescent-shaped cuts into his hand. His hand was shaking from how hard he was clenching it, but it was the only way to stop it. The thoughts. Because nothing else worked except for blood.

He watched the clock slowly count down to a minute. Then, that minute was the fasted minute he had known in his life. Time seemed to slow down for Jack. Time seemed to stop. A girl. Sitting right next to him. Wearing a Kyle Palmieri jersey. His jaw clenched when he didn't see his number on her arm, his name on her back. Not yet, he thought.

He slowly looked over her side profile as she was watching the game. He didn't know if she was real or if he had lost too much blood in the past couple of days. She couldn't be real because life wouldn't be this nice to him. He felt oxygen enter his lungs again, he felt life coming back into his body. He felt his anger calm down, but his pulse stayed rushing through his ears. He didn't know if he had died, he truly had no clue. It wasn't until he heard the penalty box door open that he was brought back to Earth and begrudgingly looked away from her.

He sprinted out of the box and immediately jumped into the play, the puck being directly passed into his control. A smirk was on his face when he felt the adrenaline flowing through his body. There was nothing that felt better than being totally in control. The entire arena started screaming when Jack got a breakaway and the net was empty.

An unexpected laugh came out of him when he heard the all-euphoric goal horn. The sound of the crowd cheering for him instead of booing him. The feeling of his teammates pummeling him into the boards in proudness. He peeked a look in her direction, she was cheering along with the rest of the crowd, but there was something that stood out. Maybe he could hear her laughter flowing into his ears, he could feel the sound being engraved into his head. The smile on her face was illuminating to him, like a siren calling for sailors. He felt the ache to feel her, to feel her lips on his body, to hear her sweet voice every second of every day. He needed her. And she hadn't even looked at him yet. But she would. Because Jack always gets what he wants. And he wanted her. Unfortunately.

____

A thing Jack always struggled with was his emotions—how he portrayed them, how he coped with them, how he felt none or was overwhelmed by emotion and feelings. He was simply there until a tsunami of rage and anger washed him away. That's the only emotion he felt.

Until right now.

Right now he felt lust, an overwhelming need for the girl, he felt impatience that she wasn't already his. He needed her—he needed to know what her name was, what her life is like, and how he could fit into her life. His eyes gleamed with a foreign emotion when he tried to picture what their life would be like. He would cherish her in her aspect of life and she would love him for who he was. It would be perfect. She would learn to love him and he knew that, whether he needed to make her love him or if she did it herself. She was going to love him.

Slipping on the mask, he knocked on the Digital Marketing Directors' office. His smile, wide and friendly, just how it always was in public.

"Come in!" Jack faintly heard through the door.

He opened the door and the man looked up, surprise etched on his face. He was surprised that Jack Hughes was at his door right now. Usually, when players wanted tickets for other people they just told somebody and they'd tell him.

"How can I help you, Mr. Hughes?" He asked Jack.

Jack's smile stayed wide and welcoming, "Please call me Jack," He charmed the man. "I was wondering if you could find somebody in the crowd for me?" He asked the man.

The man's eyebrows furrowed slightly, it was an unusual request but he didn't see anything wrong with it. "Uh sure where were they sitting?" He asked Jack while pulling up the information of who was at the game tonight.

"Right next to the penalty box, ice level."

After a few clicks of his mouse and there she was.

"On the left side was Robert Adams and on the right side was Jade Wilson," He told Jack. "I'm guessing Jade Wilson is who you're looking for," The man winked at Jack. Jack laughed and rubbed his neck, trying to look embarrassed when all he felt was rage because another man dared to say his girl's name.

"Guilty," Jack laughed, throwing his hands up in innocence.

The man smirked and looked at the computer again. "You know what kid, you won us the game tonight, so I'll do you a favor."

Jack raised his eyebrows waiting for the man to continue.

"She's a season ticket holder and her phone number is programmed in the computer. Interested?"

It was fate, the world is moving so we can be together, Jack thought. His teeth shone as he felt maybe the first real smile develop on his lips. A pretty smile shone in the light, but there was nothing but malice and bad intentions in the dark.

"I'm extremely interested thank you, sir."

That's when the world turned when everything went bad. Jack Hughes walked out of the Prudential Center with a face so evil it could be compared to the devil. He was a devil, he was her devil. He would break her and mend her right back to pieces so she could never leave him. They would be together forever and nothing would break them apart because she's his girl and nothing would ever change that. 

Like a sitting innocent duck, Jade was in her apartment in Jersey City, so so painfully unaware of the unexpected evil looming over her shoulder. Suddenly, she got a text and the end was closer than she thought.

UNKNOWN:

you looked so pretty tonight, little devil.

The end was right on her doorstep.