cailinsblog

[cailinsblog]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[cailinsblog]

macklin Celebrini

Protecting Her Hear | macklin celebrini

[cailinsblog]

Protecting Her Hear | macklin celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

It was a crisp December evening in San Jose, and the SAP Center was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands for the Sharks’ home game against the Chicago Blackhawks. Among the sea of fans in the lower bowl, one face stood out. Y/N, wearing her favorite Macklin Celebrini jersey, was settled into her seat, a smile lighting up her face as she watched her boyfriend skate out onto the ice. The young NHL star was having an incredible season with the Sharks, and every game felt like a new chapter in their story.

Macklin had grown close to Y/N ever since their high school days, and even though his hockey career had launched him into the public eye, he always made time for her. She was his constant, the calm in his otherwise hectic life. They had spent so many nights at games, watching his teammates and feeling the rush of the crowd, but tonight was special. It was their first time attending a Sharks game as an official couple, and Y/N couldn’t have been more proud.

As the game progressed, Y/N found herself engrossed in the action, her eyes glued to Macklin, who had already made a couple of incredible plays. She was cheering and clapping along with the rest of the crowd, completely unaware of the man who had stumbled to her seat.

The man was probably in his late twenties, and from the faint smell of alcohol, Y/N could tell he had been drinking for a while. At first, he lingered in the aisle near her, watching the game without much attention to her. But then, he began leaning closer, and Y/N noticed him trying to strike up a conversation.

“Hey there, you enjoying the game?” he slurred, his voice far too loud for the crowded arena.

Y/N gave him a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene. “Yeah, I’m here with my boyfriend. He’s playing tonight.”

“Oh? You’re with him?” The man seemed to squint as if it was hard for him to fully process the information. “Which one is he?”

“Macklin Celebrini,” Y/N replied, gesturing toward the ice where Macklin was skating along the blue line.

The man’s eyes flickered toward the ice, then back to Y/N. He leaned in closer, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol. “You know, you’re way too pretty for a guy like him. You could be with someone better. What are you doing with a hockey player? They’re all the same.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, her discomfort starting to rise. She wasn’t sure what the man was getting at, but his presence was beginning to feel overwhelming. She shifted in her seat, trying to subtly create space between them. “I really don’t think that’s something I want to talk about,” she said firmly, hoping he would take the hint.

But the man, clearly not catching on, continued to stand too close, his words becoming more inappropriate. “You don’t have to be so uptight, sweetheart. It’s just a game. No need to be all serious.”

At that moment, Y/N felt her anxiety spike. She could feel her hands tense up, and her heart began to race. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she also didn’t want to just sit there and take it. She stood up, trying to move toward the aisle, but the man blocked her path.

Before she could say anything, she felt a presence behind her.

“Macklin, please!” The man said, raising a hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m just talking to your girl.”

But Macklin’s face was a picture of intense focus as he skated toward the bench for a quick line change. His eyes immediately locked onto Y/N and the man in front of her. He could see the discomfort in her expression. He had been scanning the crowd between shifts and had noticed the scene unfolding. In an instant, his protective instincts kicked in, and he pushed off from the bench, his skates slicing through the ice as he rushed toward the exit.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw Macklin’s figure approaching the stands. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she also didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. However, Macklin had already seen enough.

The moment he reached the barrier separating the stands from the ice, he hoisted himself up effortlessly, his hands gripping the railing. He made his way directly to Y/N, his gaze laser-focused on the man who was still standing too close to her.

“Hey,” Macklin’s voice was calm, but it held an unmistakable edge. “Back off. Now.”

The drunk man blinked, his brain taking a moment to process the situation. But when he saw Macklin’s face, his expression changed. He had clearly recognized the player, but the alcohol still clouded his judgment. “What? Are you gonna tell me what to do now? I’m just talking to your girl,” he sneered.

Y/N could feel the tension in the air, but she was grateful that Macklin was there. She took a step back, not wanting to escalate things further, but also not wanting to be in the middle of it. Macklin’s gaze softened as he turned toward her.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his hand reaching out to hold hers. His eyes searched hers, full of concern. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone with him. I should’ve been more aware.”

Y/N nodded, a small, shaky smile on her face. “I’m fine, Mack. Thank you for coming over, though. I… I didn’t know what to do.”

Macklin squeezed her hand, the warmth of his touch grounding her. He turned back to the man, who was now visibly shrinking under Macklin’s glare.

“I don’t care what you’ve had to drink, but if you don’t leave my girlfriend alone, we’ll be having a much bigger problem,” Macklin said, his tone firm and unwavering.

The drunk man staggered back, his bravado faltering as the reality of the situation set in. Without another word, he turned and stumbled away toward the exit.

Macklin turned back to Y/N, and his expression softened. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing but now filled with gratitude. “I’m okay. I’m just glad you were here.”

Macklin smiled, his hand still holding hers. “I’d never let anything happen to you, Y/N. You mean the world to me.”

They shared a tender moment, the chaos of the situation fading into the background as Macklin pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go back to our seats. The game’s not over yet, and I think we could use some popcorn,” he said with a wink.

As they made their way back to their seats, Y/N leaned her head on Macklin’s shoulder, feeling safe and cared for. The rest of the game continued, with Macklin playing as if nothing had happened, but Y/N knew better. She knew that her boyfriend would always protect her, no matter what.

And as the final buzzer sounded, signaling a Sharks victory, she felt a sense of warmth, not just from the win, but from the love and protection that Macklin had shown her. She was lucky to have him in her life, and she knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would face them together.

[cailinsblog]

what's mine is yours | c. keller

-> pairing; clayton keller x fem!reader -> request; Hi!!! Could I get a Keller with “is that my hoodie?” Prompt pleaseeee!! He always dress so boyfriend material, that it just crossed my mind☺️ (Love your work! Mainly that you are one of the fews that write about him😭) -> 2088 words -> notes; basically a blurb. but cute either way <3 *** You have a serious problem.

It didn’t hit you until your roommate pointed it out—barging into your room with a look that was equal parts exasperation and disbelief. She was a neat freak, the kind of person who couldn’t focus if even one dish sat unwashed in the sink. The kind of person who didn’t just tidy her messes but occasionally tidied yours. And now, evidently, Clayton’s.

“Whose is this?” she demanded, holding up a black hoodie like it was evidence in a murder trial.

You stared at the hoodie for a beat, furrowing your brow, before stepping closer to squint at the tag without touching it. Designer. Men’s medium. This wasn’t yours, this was—

“Jesus, don’t touch that,” you blurted, snatching it from her hands like it was radioactive. “He’d actually kill me.”

Her eyebrow arched so high you were sure it could have hit the ceiling. “Kill you? I didn’t even know you owned anything this nice.”

“I don’t,” you muttered, clutching the hoodie to your chest. Your mind spun, picturing the way Clayton always scowled when he couldn’t find something in his pristine walk-in closet. “It’s his.”

“Wait—this is Clayton’s?” she asked, tone dripping with incredulity. “Why the hell is it here?”

Good question. A very good question, one you didn’t have a good answer for, other than the very obvious truth: his stuff was here because you kept taking it.

Not that you’d ever admit that. Out loud, at least.

“I didn’t even notice it was here,” you lied, badly.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, the look on her face telling you she wasn’t buying it. “You have an issue, you know that, right? A real one.”

“What? No, I don’t,” you scoffed, but it sounded weak even to you.

“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head toward the closet. “You don’t think I noticed how half the laundry you leave in the dryer isn’t even yours? Or that I’ve seen you wearing shirts that could double as dresses? Babe, I don’t even care anymore, but—” Her voice dropped into a muttered complaint. “I don’t want to touch his stuff. I already have to deal with the auditory trauma of hearing you two go at it like rabbits most nights. My tolerance has limits.”

You sputtered, heat rising in your cheeks. “We do not—”

“Oh, you do. Don’t even try to deny it. I didn’t even know people could be that obsessed with each other.” She rolled her eyes before pivoting on her heel. “Anyway, you’re cleaning this up.”

You wanted to argue, but as she dragged you to your closet, you realized she had a point. Shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, and the occasional jacket—things you’d worn, things you’d forgotten about, things you hadn’t even noticed—all his. They’d congregated like an invasive species, tucked in your drawers and draped over chairs. By the time the two of you piled everything into one corner of your room, it looked like the inventory of a mid-tier luxury store.

Your roommate surveyed the pile with a raised brow before huffing and leaving for the laundry room, muttering something about not being paid enough to deal with this.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the evidence of your theft. It wasn’t really stealing if he didn’t mind, right? If anything, he’d given you most of this stuff willingly—or maybe not willingly, but he didn’t ask for it back. Not directly, at least. And it wasn’t like you’d taken it for no reason. His clothes smelled like him, like clean cologne and something else that was just... Clayton. Wearing his stuff was comforting in a way you couldn’t explain. Besides, it wasn’t your fault he left things behind every time he stayed over.

The knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts. You set your jaw, knowing exactly who it was before you even opened it. There was only one person who knocked like that—like he had all the time in the world but also needed to see you this very second. You pulled the door open, and there was Clayton, standing in the hallway, his expression softening the moment he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle. He immediately pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you, and you melted into him, burying your face in his chest. He smelled like he always did—the smell that lingered on his clothes long after he was gone. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt your heart swell.

“Hey,” you murmured back, looking up at him. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss that had you forgetting, just for a moment, about the pile of clothes sitting in your room.

But then Clayton pulled back, his brow furrowed slightly, and you knew exactly what he was about to say before he even opened his mouth. “Have you seen my black hoodie?” he asked, his tone casual but a little frustrated. “I swear I left it here the last time, and I can’t—”

“Nope,” you interrupted quickly, your heart giving a guilty little jump. You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him back down, kissing him harder this time, more insistent. Clayton made a surprised sound against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist, and you pushed him backward, guiding him until his back hit the wall beside the door.

“Are you sure?” he mumbled between kisses, trying to pull back, but you didn’t let him. “Because I could’ve sworn—”

“Nope,” you repeated, practically climbing him now, your hands slipping under his shirt, fingers brushing over the smooth skin of his stomach. You could feel the way his muscles tensed under your touch, his breath hitching slightly, and you smiled against his lips. “We should just… stop talking about hoodies and have sex instead,” you suggested, your voice dropping to a whisper.

Clayton pulled back then, blinking down at you, his eyes wide. “Are you…” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Are you seriously trying to distract me with sex right now?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his neck, your hands sliding up his chest. “Is it working?”

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze softening, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but he kissed you again anyway, his hands slipping down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You hummed, “You love it.”

“Okay, but…” He trailed off as your hands slipped lower, his eyelids fluttering for a moment before he caught your wrists, stepping back. “What are you—no, wait a second.”

You pouted, huffing as he untangled himself from you, stepping around you toward your bedroom. You watched as he froze, taking in the pile of clothes in the corner of the room—his clothes. The pile your roommate had helped you collect, all of it obviously, unmistakably his.

He blinked, his mouth parting slightly. For a moment, he just stared. Then he turned to look at you, bewilderment written across his features. “What—what is all this?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but your heart pounded, embarrassment heating your cheeks. “Um, well… I may have—”

“You stole my clothes?” he asked, his voice pitched in disbelief.

“Borrowed,” you corrected, crossing your arms defensively. “I borrowed them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Baby, this is half my closet.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. The way Clayton was looking at you—like he was caught between exasperation and laughter—made your stomach twist. Heat rushed to your face, and you shifted from foot to foot, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make this whole thing even more embarrassing.

“It’s not… I mean, you always leave them here, and I just…” You trailed off, biting your lip, avoiding his gaze. The truth was sitting on the tip of your tongue, but it felt too soft, too vulnerable to say out loud.

He let out a breath, his shoulders dropping as he looked back at the pile. His eyes scanned the hoodies and shirts, the sweatpants you’d stolen for late-night study sessions, even one of his jerseys that somehow ended up there, and you’d never quite found it in yourself to return.

“You just what?” he asked, his voice gentle now, and you could hear the smile behind it.

You took a breath, fiddling with the cuffs of the hoodie you were wearing—his hoodie, too. God, this was mortifying. “I like them,” you mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear. “They’re… comfortable. And they smell like you.”

His eyes softened, his lips parting like he hadn’t expected that answer. He blinked at you, his mouth quirking like he was fighting back a smile. “They smell like me?”

You rolled your eyes, hugging yourself a little tighter, the hoodie bunching up under your arms. “Don’t make it weird,” you muttered, but there was no bite to your words. You were pretty sure your face was on fire at this point.

Clayton let out a soft laugh, stepping closer. He reached out, his fingers brushing under your chin, tilting your face up so you had to meet his eyes. “You’re wearing one right now, aren’t you?” he said, his gaze dropping to the oversized hoodie hanging off your frame.

You hesitated, then nodded, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes met yours again. There was something so gentle in his gaze, something that made your chest feel tight and warm all at once.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your jaw, the touch so light it made you shiver. “I would’ve given them to you.”

You shrugged, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know. It’s not the same if you give them to me. I like… I like taking them.”

He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head, a small, incredulous smile spreading across his face. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but his voice was so full of affection it made your heart ache.

“Maybe,” you said, trying to sound defensive, but it came out soft, almost teasing. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. “Do you… want them back?”

Clayton looked over at the pile of clothes again, then back at you. He let out a breath, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. “No,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “No, I don’t want them back.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “You don’t?”

He shook his head, his forehead resting against yours. “No,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like that you want them. That you want… me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. You reached up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “Of course I want you,” you whispered, your voice trembling just a little.

He opened his eyes, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. “God,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You let out a small laugh, your face heating up again. “Shut up,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

Clayton just shook his head, leaning down to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You melted into him, your hands slipping around his neck, pulling him closer. He held you like you were something precious, something he couldn’t bear to let go of, and it made your heart ache in the best way possible.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breath warm against your lips. “Keep them,” he whispered, his voice so full of affection it made your chest feel tight. “Keep all of them. I don’t care.”

You smiled, your heart swelling in your chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his eyes opening to meet yours. “Yeah,” he said, his lips brushing against yours. “As long as you promise to keep me, too.”

“You’re such a sap,” you mumbled, but your voice was soft, filled with affection, and Clayton just laughed, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair, and you closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours.

[cailinsblog]

imagining Luke as a dad. girl dad? boy dad? what would he be like? I just imagine seeing you as a mom just turns him on so much.

NONNIE bc when I tell you @stayg-0ld and I have had DEEP thoughts into this, I mean it

He'd get to an age eventually where the thought of a mini-you and mini-him running around his legs sounded nice. The idea of having a family of his own with you sounded nice, heavenly even. You as his wife, with two or so kids scampering around, going on day trips and visiting family and the lake. Watching you sit with his child on your lap, taking his child to practice, tucking his child into bed at night, and seeing his child at the glass during warmups. That child being with you, the love of his life, his shoulder to cry on, the most beautiful woman he's ever met, the constant that's always been there for and with him through his career. Yeah, the thought of you being a mother turning him on would be an understatement. It would drive him insane, another set of Hughes kids created from the purest form of love at full capacity.

Girl | Luke would be such a girl dad. His daughter would be his world, and he would spoil her until the end, cradling her when she cried because it pained him too. He'd be the type of dad who plays tea parties and wears tiaras when she puts them on him, teaches her how to skate as soon as he can, holds her little hands in his big ones with encouraging words and is terrified if she falls and hurts herself. If she did, he'd immediately kiss the bumps better and comfort her with cuddles. He'd watch all the Barbie films with her and let her tell him about the lore and which characters he should dislike and like. She'd inherit Luke's wit, use it on his teammates and brothers and always ask him about hockey, to which he would happily answer and explain. Luke would absolutely make it a tradition to take her to the lake over the summer and experience his vision of paradise, he would want to spend as much time with his family as possible before the season started again, letting her spend time with her cousins and uncles.

Boy | Luke as a boy dad would be like him raising a mini-Luke. Always playing some sort of sport outside, rooting for the same teams, always hungry. Although his son would possibly take after his mother more, his son would definitely be a hockey fanatic just like Luke and Luke would feed into it, indulging in long conversations with him about game reflection or players, telling stories from his uni days. He'd be his son's hero and said son would have an immense passion for the sport, naturally gravitating into the defence position and choosing his number as 43. His son would be his little buddy, attached at the hip and he would constantly be mirroring Luke. If his son had a sibling, those two would be thick as thieves as that's the only way Luke knows, he'd encourage his kids to always support each other. Like his daughter, he'd take his son to the lake every summer to spend time with him before the season began, creating valuable family memories.

[cailinsblog]

Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

GOT ME BLUSHING 🤭🤭🤭 @lucedilunax

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Snowflakes and Mistletoe | Matthew tkachuk

Matthew tkachuk x reader

The air was filled with the comforting scent of cinnamon and pine as soft Christmas music played in the background. Y/N adjusted the garland on the banister for what felt like the hundredth time, determined to make everything perfect. Hosting a Christmas party was no small task—especially with a houseful of hockey players—but she loved every moment of it. Matthew Tkachuk had been buzzing around the house all day, lending a hand when he wasn’t sneaking cookies off the platter or making her laugh with his ridiculous Christmas sweater featuring a cartoon reindeer with sunglasses.

“Babe, it’s just our friends. They’re not gonna care if the garland is two inches to the left,” Matthew teased as he leaned on the railing, watching her work with an amused grin.

Y/N shot him a playful glare. “This isn’t just any party. It’s Christmas! And I want it to be special.”

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s already perfect because you’re here,” he said softly, kissing her cheek. She melted into his embrace for a moment before playfully elbowing him.

“Nice try, Mr. Charmer, but you’re on snack duty. Go check the oven before Brady burns the pigs in a blanket again,” she said with a laugh.

Matthew groaned but obeyed, leaving her to finish the final touches. Soon, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their first guests. Y/N opened the door to see Brady, Matthew’s brother, holding a massive stack of presents and grinning from ear to ear.

“Ho, ho, ho! Santa’s here!” Brady announced as he stepped inside, followed by his girlfriend, who was carrying a tray of cookies.

“Brady, you brought enough gifts for an army,” Y/N laughed, taking the top box to help lighten his load.

“Well, it’s a house full of hockey players. Gotta keep everyone happy,” he replied, giving her a big bear hug before heading toward the kitchen.

Before long, the house was bustling with people. Matthew’s teammates from the Panthers arrived one by one, each bringing something to add to the spread. There were platters of food, bottles of wine, and more desserts than anyone could reasonably eat in a week. The tree twinkled with lights, and the room was alive with laughter and conversation.

“Okay, secret Santa time!” Y/N called out after everyone had eaten their fill. She handed out the small wrapped gifts she and Matthew had helped organize. The room erupted in laughter as Brandon Montour unwrapped a gag gift—a giant inflatable flamingo—while Carter Verhaeghe received a ridiculous Christmas tie that lit up.

Matthew couldn’t stop smiling as he watched Y/N laugh with his teammates and chat with Brady. She fit into his world so effortlessly, and seeing her so happy made his heart swell. When she wasn’t looking, he pulled Brady aside.

“She’s something else, huh?” Matthew said, nodding toward Y/N.

Brady clapped his brother on the shoulder. “She’s amazing. Don’t mess this up, Matty.”

“I won’t,” Matthew said, his voice filled with certainty.

As the night wore on, the group moved outside to admire the Christmas lights. The Tkachuks’ backyard had been transformed into a winter wonderland, complete with twinkling fairy lights and a fire pit. Matthew and Y/N passed out hot cocoa as the group huddled around, swapping stories and enjoying the festive atmosphere.

“Alright, who’s ready for a snowball fight?” Brady announced, already scooping up snow with a mischievous grin.

The backyard quickly turned into a battlefield, with Y/N and Matthew teaming up against Brady and his girlfriend. Laughter echoed through the crisp night air as snow flew in every direction. Matthew managed to sneak up behind Y/N and scoop her into his arms, spinning her around as she squealed.

“Matthew! Put me down!” she laughed, though she couldn’t stop smiling.

“Not until you admit our team is winning!” he teased, his face inches from hers.

“Fine! You’re winning,” she conceded, her cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter.

He set her down gently, brushing a snowflake from her hair before leaning in to kiss her, the world around them fading for a moment.

Later, as the guests began to trickle out, Y/N stood in the doorway, thanking each of them for coming. When the house was finally quiet again, she turned to find Matthew standing by the tree, holding a small box with a red ribbon.

“What’s that?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

Matthew walked over to her, his usual confidence tinged with a hint of nervousness. “Just a little something I’ve been holding onto for a while,” he said, handing her the box.

Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a tiny hockey stick charm. “I know it’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you,” he said softly.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. “It’s perfect, Matthew. I love it.”

“I love you,” he said, pulling her into a warm embrace.

As they stood by the twinkling tree, the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air, Y/N realized this was the best Christmas she’d ever had—and it was all because of him.

[cailinsblog]

The Long Shot | arber xhekaj

Arber xhekaj x reader

Arber Xhekaj had always been focused on his game. The rink was his sanctuary, where nothing else mattered except the sharp sound of skates on ice and the rush of adrenaline as the puck glided across the surface. But there was one thing—one person—that had started to distract him.

Y/N.

She wasn’t a player. She wasn’t even a fan in the traditional sense. Y/N was a photographer, the one who captured every moment of the Montreal Canadiens’ journey through lens and light. Her job was to freeze the action in time, making sure that every slapshot, every save, every goal was immortalized for fans to relive over and over again.

And every time Arber saw her, he felt his heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t just her professionalism or the way she moved behind the camera. No, it was something about the way she seemed to see the world, the quiet confidence with which she carried herself, and the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. Arber was used to being in the spotlight—he was a defenseman for the Canadiens, after all—but whenever Y/N was near, he felt a nervous excitement he couldn’t shake.

It had started with stolen glances, then small conversations before and after practice. He’d tried to keep his feelings hidden, focusing on the game, but it wasn’t easy. Not when he could feel the warmth of her presence every time she stepped into the rink, camera in hand.

One evening, before a big home game against the Toronto Maple Leafs, Arber finally decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

The team was warming up, stretching on the ice, getting ready for the big match, but Arber had one more thing to take care of. He skated off to the sidelines, noticing Y/N standing by the boards, snapping shots of the players.

Taking a deep breath, he skated over to her, his heart racing as she glanced up from her camera.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, a little more nervously than he would’ve liked.

“Hey, Arber,” she smiled, lowering the camera. “How’s it feel to be back on home ice?”

“Great, but…” he paused, unsure how to phrase this without sounding ridiculous. “I’ve got a small favor to ask.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s up?”

Arber hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice a little quieter than usual. “Would you… would you wear my jersey during the game? Just for tonight.”

She blinked at him, momentarily taken aback. “Your jersey?”

“Yeah.” Arber rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I thought it might be cool if, you know, you wore it while you’re taking pictures. You could show everyone my name. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Y/N laughed softly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Is this some sort of secret fan request, or are you just being sweet?”

“Maybe a little of both,” he admitted, a sheepish grin forming. “But yeah, it would mean a lot to me if you did.”

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze flickering to the ice and then back to Arber. “Alright. I’ll do it. But only because it’s you.”

Arber’s face lit up with a grin. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

Y/N turned to go change, and as Arber skated back to the locker room, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. This was silly, he knew it. But for some reason, the thought of her wearing his name on her back made him feel like the luckiest guy on the ice.

---

The game was electric, the crowd buzzing with energy as the Canadiens faced off against their longtime rivals. The atmosphere was electric, but even in the midst of it all, Arber couldn’t keep his eyes off the sidelines.

There she was, Y/N, snapping photos of the action, her camera clicking away like a machine gun. But what caught his attention more than anything was the fact that she was wearing *his* jersey. It wasn’t just any jersey—it was his #45, the number of a guy who usually had his name plastered across the back of a jersey in bright letters.

But this time, it was Y/N’s back that displayed the name "XHEKAJ."

She looked amazing in it. The jersey was a little big on her, but it gave her an effortlessly cool vibe, and Arber couldn’t stop smiling as he noticed the long letters of his last name stretching across her back. It felt like his heart was pounding in his chest, and every time she clicked the shutter, he felt like she was capturing something more than just the game—something between them.

---

By the end of the night, the Canadiens had won, and Arber’s energy was through the roof. But as the players made their way off the ice, his focus was on one thing: finding Y/N.

When he spotted her, he made a beeline toward her, his heart racing once more. Y/N was packing up her gear, but as soon as she saw him, her face lit up.

“Great game,” she said, smiling brightly. “You were awesome out there.”

Arber stepped closer, his voice suddenly serious. “I meant what I said earlier.”

Y/N frowned slightly, not sure what he was talking about.

“About the jersey,” he continued. “I wasn’t just trying to be cute. I—”

Before he could finish his thought, Y/N cut him off, stepping closer to him with a smile. “Arber, you don’t need to explain. I get it.”

She looked down at his jersey on her, then up at him, her eyes sparkling. “I kind of liked the idea of wearing it. It felt… special.”

Arber’s heart did a little flip. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It made me feel like part of something bigger. Like we were connected, even in the middle of a game.”

The tension between them hung in the air for a moment, neither of them saying anything, until Y/N took a deep breath and added, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but… I think I’m falling for you, Arber.”

His eyes widened, surprised by her words. “Really?”

“Really,” she said softly. “I think I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we talked.”

Arber let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Funny,” he said with a grin, “I think I’ve had a crush on you even longer.”

And with that, he reached out and gently took her hand in his, the connection between them now undeniable. The game, the jersey, the photos—it had all led to this moment.

And as Arber pulled Y/N close, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, sometimes the long shot was worth taking.

[cailinsblog]

Matt rempe

A Christmas to Remember

Love on the ice

[cailinsblog]

A Christmas to Remember | Matt rempe

Matt rempe x reader

The crisp winter air in New York City felt sharp against Matt Rempe's cheeks as he stepped out of the warmth of their car, holding the door open for Y/N. The snow flurries danced in the air, settling on the sidewalk and giving the city a dreamy holiday feel. Matt, his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets, looked down at Y/N with a grin that was all mischief and sweetness.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Y/N said, adjusting the scarf around her neck, trying to keep out the cold as she shot him a playful glance. "Christmas shopping in the middle of a snowstorm."

Matt chuckled, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. "You know it's worth it. Besides, it's fun when I get to spend the whole day with you."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. They'd spent the past few days soaking in the holiday spirit, but today was all about finding the perfect gifts—especially for her sister, who had just had a baby. Y/N had been eagerly waiting to get something special for her little niece, and Matt, of course, was just as excited to play a part in it. Even if he was a little out of his element when it came to baby shopping.

As they entered the warm glow of the department store, the bustling holiday music wrapped around them like a cozy blanket. It was one of those big, over-the-top places where everything looked magical: twinkling lights, oversized ornaments, and beautifully decorated trees scattered throughout.

"Alright, first stop—baby clothes," Y/N said, glancing at Matt. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and hockey-player physique were so out of place in the baby section, but Y/N knew he’d embrace it for her.

"Lead the way," he replied with a grin, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach. She loved how he could make even the simplest things feel special. They walked toward the soft pastel section, rows of tiny onesies and miniature dresses hanging in perfect order.

Y/N's eyes brightened as she reached for a delicate pink onesie with little reindeer patterns on it. "This one," she said, holding it up to Matt with a hopeful look. "It’s so cute, right?"

Matt leaned in, peering at the onesie, his eyes softening. "Definitely cute," he said, his voice unusually tender. Then, his gaze shifted from the onesie to Y/N's face, and a teasing glint sparked in his eyes. "But, uh, I’m pretty sure I’d look better in reindeer patterns than a tiny baby."

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head. "You’re ridiculous." She tried to put the onesie back on the rack, but Matt stopped her, taking it from her hands and holding it up to his own chest, pretending to model it.

The sight of him, towering over the tiny clothes, sent a wave of laughter through Y/N, but it also made her blush. There was something about his playful side, the way he could so easily make her laugh without even trying, that always caught her off guard. And this time, she was absolutely helpless against the way her cheeks turned pink.

"Alright, alright," she said, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across her face. "But don’t start getting ideas. No reindeer onesies for you."

"Just wait," he teased, stepping closer to her, his hand resting on her shoulder as he whispered in her ear, "Maybe next Christmas I'll get one, just for you."

Y/N could feel her heart skip a beat, the warmth of his words paired with his closeness sending butterflies through her. She shifted slightly, trying to hide the smile creeping up on her face, but Matt wasn't making it easy. He was too good at knowing exactly how to make her blush.

"You're impossible," she muttered, but the affection in her tone betrayed her. She turned her attention back to the baby clothes, trying to focus.

Matt stayed close by her side, his presence comforting and familiar. They moved along the racks, picking out soft onesies, little socks, and a fluffy bear hat that looked too adorable to resist.

"Y/N," Matt said suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "What do you think... one of these little sweaters would be too much for a first Christmas gift?" He held up a tiny red sweater with a snowman on it, his brow furrowed in a mock-serious expression.

She turned to look at him, her heart skipping another beat at how cute he looked in that moment. "Oh, that’s perfect," she said, her voice soft. "It’s adorable, and I’m sure she’ll love it. You know, for her first Christmas, it’s kind of special."

Matt smiled, genuinely pleased with her approval. "Okay, then. We’ll get that, too."

The next hour flew by in a whirlwind of picking out little clothes and laughing over Matt's attempts to help. He insisted on picking out some "hockey-themed" baby clothes, even though they were clearly for a girl and not exactly practical. "Hey, she'll need to rep the team when she’s older, right?" he said with a wink.

But the whole time, Matt never stopped making her blush. Whether it was a cheeky comment about baby clothes ("I mean, if she looks anything like you, she’s going to need a wardrobe like yours"), or him joking about how maybe he’d get a baby-sized jersey for himself, it was clear that he had a way of turning every moment into something lighthearted and fun.

Finally, after what felt like a perfect day of Christmas shopping, they made their way to the register, arms full of bags.

"You’re going to spoil her," Y/N said, her voice a little playful as she leaned into Matt’s side. "She’s going to have so many clothes, she won’t know what to wear!"

Matt grinned down at her. "I’m just trying to make sure she’s well-dressed for her first Christmas. And hey, it’s not like we get to spoil her every day. Might as well do it right."

Y/N couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his words deep in her chest. She loved how thoughtful he was, how he always made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As they stepped out into the cold again, the soft hum of the city streets filled the air around them. Y/N snuggled closer to Matt, grateful for the day they'd had—finding the perfect gifts, sharing laughs, and feeling the undeniable connection that grew stronger every day.

"Best Christmas ever," she whispered, looking up at him with a smile that made her cheeks flush once more.

"Well," Matt said, squeezing her hand, "the best part is still ahead of us. You and me, Christmas Eve, just hanging out and enjoying the season."

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling a warmth spread through her heart. "That sounds perfect."

And as they walked down the snowy streets, hand in hand, Matt Rempe's grin never left his face, and neither did the blush on Y/N's cheeks. Christmas shopping had never been so magical.

[cailinsblog]

What died didn't stay dead

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

[cailinsblog]

Ethan Edwards

A Hughes Family Welcome for Ethan Edwards

[cailinsblog]

A Hughes Family Welcome for Ethan Edwards | Ethan Edwards

Ethan Edwards x reader

It was a cold Saturday morning, and Y/N was buzzing with nerves as she drove with Ethan toward her family’s lake house. She’d been dating Ethan for a few months now, but between his commitments with the University of Michigan and her own busy schedule, she hadn’t had the chance to introduce him to her family yet. This was the first time she’d ever brought a boyfriend home, and there was a certain pressure that came with dating someone who was, first and foremost, her older brothers’ teammate.

As they pulled into the long, winding driveway, Ethan took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, glancing at her with a reassuring smile.

She sighed, her mind racing. “It’s just… they’re protective, you know? Especially Quinn and Jack. I’ve never done this before, and I just don’t know how they’ll react.” Her hands felt clammy, and she could feel her heart racing, but Ethan’s in calm presence helped her breathe just a little easier.

The front door flew open as soon as they parked, and Jack, her ever-energetic middle brother, jogged down the steps. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the sight of Ethan stepping out of the car and walking around to Y/N’s side.

“Ethan?” Jack asked, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, you’re Y/N’s boyfriend?” He looked almost comically stunned as his eyes flicked between the two of them.

Ethan’s calm smile didn’t waver. “Hey, Jack. Surprise?”

“You’re… Ethan Edwards?” Jack echoed, shaking his head as if to clear it. Y/N laughed, grabbing Ethan’s hand and giving it a little squeeze. “Yeah, he is,” she confirmed, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She was about to add something when Quinn appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He approached them slowly, eyes fixed on Ethan with a mix of curiosity and protectiveness.

After a beat, Quinn broke into a grin. “Alright, Ethan. Guess I don’t have to worry about you on the ice anymore—you’ll be too busy looking out for my sister.” He offered a hand, which Ethan shook firmly. “But really, man,” Quinn added with a warm smile, “it’s good to have you here.”

They all walked up the stairs to find Ellen and Jim waiting inside. Y/N’s mom looked surprised, eyebrows raised as her eyes swept over Ethan. “Ethan Edwards?” she asked, looking at her daughter with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, Mom,” Y/N replied, almost shyly. She didn’t quite know what to expect, but her mother’s approving smile put her at ease.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Ethan. Heard a lot about you,” Ellen said, pulling him into a warm hug. Jim came up next, his smile as genuine as ever. “He’s got my seal of approval,” he said with a nod and a firm handshake. “Not just anyone can keep up with these Hughes boys. But I’ll be watching you,” he teased with a wink, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

The weekend went by like a blur. The family quickly warmed up to Ethan, charmed by his humility, genuine kindness, and the way he clearly adored Y/N. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he instinctively reached for her hand or brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, that left no doubt he was completely smitten.

On their last night at the lake house, they all gathered around a fire pit, with the stars twinkling above them. Ethan had his arm around Y/N, keeping her close as she nestled against him, soaking in the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his embrace. Jack, who had been skeptical at first, finally relaxed and admitted he was glad Ethan was the one Y/N had brought home.

“So, does this mean you’ll play nicer with him on the ice?” Y/N teased Jack with a grin.

Jack scoffed, “He’ll still have to earn every goal against me. But I’ll go easy on him—sometimes.”

The night wound down, and as Y/N and Ethan found themselves alone on the back deck, overlooking the lake, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Not only did her family accept Ethan, but they genuinely liked him. And it was clear he felt the same. He gazed down at her, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “You really do have an incredible family,” he murmured.

“They’re your family too, now,” she whispered back, and he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against hers.

In that quiet moment, with her family inside and the lake stretching out beneath a blanket of stars, Y/N knew she had made the right choice. Ethan was the perfect fit—not just for her, but for the whole Hughes family.

[cailinsblog]

A Picnic Under the Stars | Oscar piastri

Oscar piastri x reader

Masterlist

It had been four years since Oscar Piastri first met Y/N. Four years of adventures, laughter, and unforgettable moments—moments that had only deepened their bond. What had begun as a casual encounter, a meeting during an event in Melbourne, had blossomed into something far more beautiful. The young Formula 1 driver had a busy career, and Y/N, with her own flourishing career, had always supported him—through the highs and the lows. But now, with the off-season finally here and the whirlwind of the racing season behind them, Oscar had planned something truly special.

Oscar had always been thoughtful. Whether it was remembering the small details—like the way Y/N liked her coffee or the way she smiled whenever he surprised her with a spontaneous adventure—or the big moments, he was always there, patient and kind. But this moment, tonight, would be the biggest surprise of all.

It was a crisp autumn evening in the countryside of Australia, far away from the noise of the F1 circuit and the busy city life. Oscar had insisted they take a trip to a remote area of the coast, near one of his favorite spots where they could watch the sunset. Y/N had always loved the ocean, and the sight of the vast, rolling waves was one that calmed her, always reminding her of their more peaceful moments together.

The drive was quiet, filled with soft music and the occasional joke or story that kept them both laughing. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why Oscar had insisted on such a “random” trip, but the thought quickly faded as she saw the spot he had chosen for their evening.

Oscar led her to a secluded clearing by the beach, where a blanket had been spread out on the ground, surrounded by soft fairy lights that twinkled like stars. A wicker basket sat neatly beside it, with bottles of wine and a few candles softly illuminating the area. The waves crashed gently in the distance, the salt air filling her lungs.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Y/N breathed, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You did all this?”

Oscar grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to do something special. Thought we could have a nice, quiet night… just the two of us.”

She laughed, taking a moment to look around at the gorgeous setup. The fairy lights sparkled like tiny diamonds, and the stars above were clearer than she had ever seen them, unimpeded by city lights. Oscar had made sure everything was perfect. From the cozy blanket to the wine glasses and the delicious spread of food in the basket, everything had been thoughtfully planned out.

“Come on, sit down,” Oscar said, holding his hand out to her. She took it with a smile, letting him guide her to the blanket. They settled comfortably, the warmth of the picnic blanket against their legs contrasting with the cool air of the night.

Oscar uncorked the bottle of wine and poured them both a glass before passing one to Y/N. They clinked glasses, a soft “cheers” between them. Y/N took a sip, feeling the smooth, fruity flavor spread over her tongue. Oscar reached for the basket and pulled out a tray filled with her favorite food—charcuterie, cheeses, olives, and a few little sweet treats.

“This is perfect, Oscar,” she said, her heart swelling at the effort he had put into making the night special.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied with a smile, his hand brushing against hers as he picked up a piece of cheese. "It’s been a long season, and I wanted us to have some time to just relax and enjoy each other’s company.”

The two spent the next hour talking, laughing, and sharing stories, all while enjoying the delicious spread of food and the peaceful serenity of the night. As they ate, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange, pink, and purple, giving way to a starry night that felt almost magical.

After they had finished eating, Oscar leaned back on his elbows, gazing up at the stars. Y/N followed his gaze, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. There was a certain calm between them now, a quiet intimacy that made her heart feel full. She wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting there, but time seemed to slow in a way that was only possible when she was with him.

Then, without warning, Oscar shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. Y/N turned to look at him, smiling sleepily.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

Oscar’s eyes were focused on her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. He had a softness in his gaze, a tenderness she knew well but had never seen quite like this before. He took her hand in his, holding it gently as he looked down at it, then back up at her.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice slightly nervous, though his words were steady, “you know I’ve always loved our life together, right? I know I’ve been busy with the racing season, but these four years with you have been... they’ve been everything to me. You’re my best friend, my partner, and the person I want to share everything with.”

Y/N blinked, her heart suddenly beating faster. She was aware of how carefully Oscar was speaking, how serious he was in this moment, but she couldn’t quite piece together why. Her mind raced, thoughts flickering like flashes of light.

“I don’t think I could ever express just how much you mean to me,” Oscar continued, taking a deep breath as he reached into the pocket of his jacket. “But I’ve spent every moment I can with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life doing that.”

Y/N's breath hitched, her mind finally catching up. She watched as Oscar slowly got to his feet, then knelt down on one knee in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

The world seemed to pause. The sound of the waves, the rustling of the wind through the trees, all faded as Oscar held her gaze, his hand reaching into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a small, velvet box.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice filled with hope, love, and sincerity. He opened the box to reveal a simple, elegant diamond ring, glinting in the soft glow of the fairy lights.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as her heart swelled with joy and disbelief. She had never expected this—never thought it would come so soon. But the look in Oscar’s eyes, the way he was holding her hand so gently, made her heart explode with a warmth she couldn’t describe.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she wiped her eyes. “Oscar, yes! Yes, I will!”

Oscar’s face lit up instantly, a wide, radiant smile breaking across his features as he slid the ring onto her finger. She gasped as it fit perfectly, the diamond sparkling like a star in the night sky. Without a second thought, she pulled him up and into a tight embrace, kissing him deeply, her heart racing with emotion.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she whispered between kisses. “This is the most beautiful surprise.”

“I just want to spend forever with you,” he murmured back, holding her close, his forehead resting against hers. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I can’t wait for the rest of our lives.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other in the quiet of the night, the sound of the waves and the soft rustle of the leaves creating a symphony of calm around them. The stars shone brightly above, and the world felt as though it had been made just for them.

After a few more moments, they pulled away, still smiling, and Oscar reached for her hand, kissing her ring finger gently.

“Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world,” he said softly.

Y/N smiled, her eyes filled with tears of happiness, knowing that she was about to embark on the most exciting chapter of her life with the man she loved more than anything. They sat back down on the blanket, looking at the stars above, their hands intertwined, knowing that this was only the beginning of forever.

[cailinsblog]

a Nico fic where he is dating a famous model and the devils win the Stanley cup and they all go out to party and they are at the club drinking and they stay out till 5am and she gets really drunk and Nico is also drunk but not as drunk as her and when they are walking out of the club together there is some paprizie and Nico I helping her walk and has a arm around her waist and is helping her to the car and her hair is all frizzy and her face is flushes red and when they get home he is helping her get ready for bed

Oooo I love this thank you so much for the request

Celebrating Victory, Together | Nico hischier

Nico hischier x reader

Masterlist

The city was alive with celebration. The streets of New Jersey were filled with the hum of excitement, honking horns, and the sounds of people cheering. The Devils had just won the Stanley Cup, and for Nico Hischier, it was a dream come true. The young captain had led his team to the ultimate victory, but that night, the true celebration wasn’t just about hockey—it was about love, passion, and the promise of a new chapter.

Nico’s girlfriend, Y/N, was everything he had ever dreamed of. A world-renowned model, her beauty was unmatched, but it was her heart, her spirit, and her undying support that had captivated him from the start. She’d been there for him through thick and thin, standing by his side even when the road got tough. And now, after the biggest victory of his career, she was here to celebrate with him, her laughter mixing with the cheers of the crowd as they poured out of the arena and into the night.

The victory party was one of the most anticipated events of the year, and it didn’t disappoint. The venue was packed with players, coaches, staff, and even some celebrities. Champagne flowed freely, and the music was a blur of beats and bass that kept the energy electric. Nico and Y/N arrived together, her arm wrapped around his as they made their way through the sea of people.

Her outfit was breathtaking. A sleek black dress that clung to her curves, sparkling with a subtle shimmer under the club lights. Her long hair, usually so perfectly styled, was slightly undone from the excitement, waves of it cascading around her shoulders. Nico couldn’t help but smile when he saw her, his heart swelling with pride. She was his, and tonight was going to be unforgettable.

They were showered with congratulations from friends and teammates as they settled into the party. Nico’s teammates, his brothers, slapped him on the back, holding their beers high in the air, celebrating their shared success. Y/N, ever the social butterfly, made her way through the crowd, laughing and chatting with everyone, but her eyes always returning to Nico, her rock.

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed a little more freely. The energy in the club grew louder, more chaotic. Nico, although a little buzzed, remained focused. He didn’t want to get too drunk—not when he had her by his side, not when tonight was meant to be special. He kept an eye on Y/N, who, after a couple of rounds of cocktails, was starting to let loose more than he’d expected. Her laughter echoed through the space, her face flushed from the alcohol, her cheeks pink like she’d been kissed by the warmth of the evening sun.

“You okay?” Nico asked, leaning in close as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m fine!” Y/N giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Just celebrating with my favorite hockey player.” She playfully poked his chest, and Nico couldn’t help but smile. There was nothing like seeing her so carefree, but he knew her limits.

A few more rounds of shots later, and Y/N was definitely more than tipsy. Her steps were a little wobbly, and she had to lean into Nico more than usual to stay upright. The club had become a whirlwind of bodies and flashing lights, and she seemed to be caught in the middle of it all.

“You sure you’re good?” Nico asked, his voice a mix of concern and affection. Her face was now flushed red, and her hair—usually so sleek—had started to frizz out of control, waves falling over her face.

“I’m perfect,” she slurred, a goofy grin spreading across her face. “I’m just... so happy, baby. You won!”

“I did,” Nico said, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “And I’m glad you’re here to celebrate with me.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

But Nico could see she was starting to get more unsteady on her feet. He helped guide her through the crowd toward the exit, his arm securely around her waist as she leaned into him for support. Her heels clicked against the floor as they made their way outside, and the cool night air hit their faces. Nico’s breath was warm as he pulled her closer, helping her stay upright as she swayed.

“Okay, let’s get you to the car,” Nico said, his tone protective. He glanced around at the cars waiting nearby, his hand steady on her waist as they made their way through the parking lot.

Y/N’s hair was a mess, strands sticking out in all directions, but she didn’t seem to care. Her flushed face was an adorable mixture of embarrassment and happiness. She giggled every time she looked at him, her eyes glazed but still bright with affection.

“You’re so strong,” she whispered, looking up at Nico through half-lidded eyes. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over...”

“Don’t worry,” Nico replied softly. “I’ve got you.”

They reached the car, and Nico helped her into the passenger seat, closing the door behind her before walking around to the driver’s side. He could feel the weight of the night’s excitement settling on him as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hands slightly unsteady on the wheel, but not nearly as much as Y/N’s. The drive home was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine as Nico kept glancing over at her. She had her eyes closed, resting her head against the window, her lips curved into a content smile.

Once they got home, Nico helped Y/N out of the car, his arm around her waist again as they made their way up to the door of their apartment. She stumbled a little, but Nico’s grip was firm, guiding her every step of the way. He unlocked the door with a quiet click and led her inside.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” he said gently as he guided her toward the bathroom.

“I can’t believe we won...” Y/N murmured, her voice full of exhaustion and happiness. “You’re a champion, Nico. My champion.”

Nico chuckled softly, helping her sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?”

With the patience he’d learned over the years, Nico helped Y/N out of her dress, carefully unzipping the back and slipping it off her shoulders. Her skin was warm, her movements sluggish as she tried to help, but Nico made sure to take his time, making sure she was comfortable. He couldn’t help but smile as he noticed her frizzy hair, the way it seemed to have a mind of its own now, and how her face was flushed with a mix of alcohol and excitement.

Once she was in her pajamas, Nico guided her to the bed, where she collapsed with a soft laugh, her eyes fluttering shut. “I love you, Nico,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too,” Nico replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s another day.”

He kissed her forehead gently, tucking the blanket around her, and stayed by her side, his hand resting on her waist as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

The night had been one for the books—a night of celebration, love, and memories. As Nico lay beside her, he thought back on everything that had brought him to this point. The Stanley Cup was a great achievement, but the true victory, the one that mattered most, was right there beside him.

[cailinsblog]

Mini hair flips collection because Maggie is a hater