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Okay but

Was somebody going to tell me that C and A were like Captain and Assistant Captain or was I just supposed to figure that out as I wrote the 20 questions thing? -C

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20 Questions Tag

Rules: Answer 20 questions and tag 20 people you want to know better. I was tagged by @seggstars.

Sorry this took us so long to get around to! First jobs and college prep respectively are stressful as hell.

In case yall didn’t know, there’s two of us: Caitlin (C) and Aidan (A). So double up on answers!

1. Nickname-Cait or Catie, Catie-bug, Star Thot so lovingly bestowed by Aidan (C), Spazzatron among friends and family or Hockey Hoe among Caitlin (A)

2. Zodiac Sign-On the cusp of Virgo-Libra, and can go either way depending on what chart you’re using (C). Cancer, a crabby boi (A). (We don’t know anything else about Zodiac don’t hold it against us)

3. Hogwarts House-I think Ravenclaw, but I’ve been kinda on the fence about it for a while now. Think I might be borderline Gryffindor (C). Ravenclaw. Duh. (A).

4. Height-5′7″ish (C). 5′9″. Just like Marcel Dionne (A).

5. Last thing I googled-”smirk synonyms”. I dislike using the same words repeatedly when I write unless it’s purposeful (C). Chinese food order for lunch (A).

6. Favorite artists-ACDC, Jon Cozart, Thomas Sanders, lots of Broadway stars who aren’t exactly artists but deserve recognition for being amazing like Sierra Boggess, Alex Brightman, Jeremy Jordan, and Ramin Karimloo (C). Queens of the Stone Age, Deftones, Blur, and Soundgarden (A).

7. Song stuck in my head at the moment- Literally all of Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. The Whole “Being Dead” Thing from Beetlejuice the Musical. Black Wedding by In This Moment. The Queen of the Night aria from The Magic Flute. My brain is pure chaos (C). And Give the Mule What He Wants by Queens of the Stone Age. God that’s a long name (A).

8. Followers- 93

9. Following- 12 (I swear it’s not because we don’t like people we just don’t come on here enough -C)

10. Do I get asks- Not really. Please don’t be afraid to jump into our ask box, we’re totally open to conversation, suggestions, requests, and new friends!

11. Amount of sleep- Depends on the night. I usually don’t get much sleep because I stay up late and wake up early or can’t get to sleep. I just moved from a quiet neighborhood to the downtown district of a big city, so I’ve had issues with sleep lately (C). 3-6 hours normally. Currently running on 2 hours and a coffee (A).

12. Lucky numbers- None. I like numbers that are easy to deal with in math like 2, 5, 10. I’m not a superstitious person though (C). 33. Some of my favorite all time players wore it (Chara, Henrik Sedin, Roy, Kris Draper) and it’s just a number that’s stuck with me (A).

13. What am I wearing- Black pants, maroon long-sleeved shirt with “London” on the back and blue and white stripes at the elbows. I would still be in PJs if I didn’t have church (C). Black cardigan, black t-shirt, jeans, and socks (A).

14. Dream job- Singing or performing. I’ve done a lot of musical theater and choir in the past seven years and really want to do something with what I’ve worked on for so long but it’s looking like I’ll be a paralegal (C). NHL General Manager or Head Amateur Scout (A).

15. Instruments- Does voice count? Choir teacher says it does. Also dabble in piano but only self-taught. Haven’t had amazing experiences with piano teachers. My dad also tried teaching me some guitar but I can’t remember the chords between our mini lessons (C). I own a piano and guitar, but really only play the guitar (A).

16. Languages- Took Spanish in school and don’t remember much. Started German and Russian on Duolingo but my phone has limited space so I ended up having to get rid of it (C). A small amount of Russian from family members (A).

17. Favorite song- Don’t make me choose, I’ll probably combust (C). Either Elite by Deftones or Thomas by A Perfect Circle. I can’t pick between the two (A).

18. Random fact- I’m 100% the mom friend and moving away from my hometown for college makes me miss all my children/good friends I’m very sad (C). I’m a registered storm spotter in two states (A). (He can also name every first overall pick back to 1999 and every Cup back to 1989 shhh don’t tell him I put this here he thinks it’s a sign he has no life and it’s actually amazing -C)

19. Aesthetic- Candles, Paris (does that count? I say yes), blankets, beaches, untouched snow, calligraphy, dimly lit stages, crop tops and high-waisted jeans (C). Closet lumberjack (A).

20. Dream Trip- Europe. Just all of Europe, but especially Italy and France (C). Newfoundland (A).

We tag: @retrocelly, @puckinginsane, @rosyharts, anyone else who feels up to it

PS I ate a whole family sized can of chicken noodle soup while I was doing this because I got distracted... -C

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Bruins fans going back to Boston knowing what happens when they play the Leafs in game 7s

-A

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Can't wait for the Blue Jackets to get clapped by Tampa Bay

-A

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Seguin making his best imitation of Stars legend Patrik Stefan

-A

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The Bench

Pairing: Adam Lowry x Reader

Word Count: 804

Warnings: None (seriously what is wrong with me)

Summary: The reader and Adam mess around in between periods.

Reader’s POV

I never asked how he got me here. All I knew was that I was sitting right behind the bench, watching my husband and the rest of his team completely destroy the Oilers.

Already having screamed myself hoarse within the first period, I was sitting, not so patiently waiting for the second period to start. I jumped probably a foot in the air when an arm wrapped around my waist. The deep chuckle that followed prompted me to smack blindly backwards, triumphant at the aghast gasp that followed. “Adam, honey, don’t sneak up on me,” I whispered, voice cracking even at the low volume, causing me to wince.

Adam rounded me to sit on the bench in front of me, taking my hands into his. “Aw, baby, did you lose your voice again?” I knew better than to take his voice at face value. While he seemed sympathetic, I could tell with a single glance at his eyes that he was using his baby voice and trying not to laugh.

Rolling my eyes, I hit him again. “Shut up,” I whispered yelled at him, only making him burst into giggles. Pouting now from my humiliation, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned so that I could put my heels on the bench beside me.

“Aw, babe, noooo, I’m sorry,” he pleaded, reaching across the distance to stroke my cheek gently.

Wrinkling my nose, I leaned away slightly. “Ew, you’re sweaty,” I complained.

Which I really shouldn’t have done, because Adam really enjoys goofing around. Smiling, he lunged over the bench over me. I scrambled back as quickly as I could, but didn’t even get my legs fully over my bench to the safety of the other side before he was squishing me against him in a lopsided bear hug. “There, now you smell gross, too,” he commented, satisfied with himself as he returned to his own bench.

I gagged as I smelled the jersey I was wearing. “Dude, you reek. We might need to take you in to see the doctor. You might have some condition.” Adam was chuckling before I even got to the second statement.

“I’m a hockey player. I’m supposed to stink. It’s my man musk,” he defended, still grinning widely.

Rolling my eyes but unable to keep the smile from my face, I scooted away from him on the bench. There was a beat of silence before he sighed, standing again, taller than usual in his skates. “I should probably head back into the locker room. Someone is probably making a compelling speech right now that I’m missing.” Throwing me a quick wink, he headed towards the locker rooms, then paused, looking up at the big screen before turning back to me. “So much murder and not one single joke. I have to admit, I’m rather disappointed in you.” My gaze followed his up to the screen, where it was replaying all the hits that had happened in the game. It was quite a few, and I realized while watching that he was involved in at least half of them.

When I turned my eyes back to where he was, I was surprised that he was still there until I realized that he was waiting for my response. I rose an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t know my husband was so violent. I want a divorce,” I joked, drawing a laugh from him.

“Oh, please, you like cuddles too much to be alone,” he retaliated.

Snorting, I stood, making my way over to him. “Well, who says I would be alone?”

His eyebrows shot up, almost to his hairline. “Who are you gonna cuddle with?”

I pretended to give it some thought as I gently looped my arms around his shoulders. Adam’s face split in a smile, settling his hands on my waist. “Brandon looks pretty pacifist. I’ll take him.”

Adam gasped. “No way, he’s mine!” At that, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and he quickly joined me, his facade cracking easily.

We came down from our giggling fit and stared at each other. There was a beat of silence before he leaned his forehead against mine. “You know I really love you, right? And I’m so glad that you’re my wife.”

Nuzzling my nose next to his, I murmured back, “I love you too.” We stayed like that for a bit before I prodded his side gently. “They’re missing you in the locker room,” I whispered, not wanting to break the moment too harshly.

Groaning, he leaned away, trudging away. Grinning, I darted in, tapped his butt, and danced away before he could grab me. He playfully glared at me as I giggled. “You’re gonna pay for that later.” He growled, pointing a finger at me.

Sitting back down, I winked at him. “Counting on it.”

[seguinshands]

Scott Mayfield looks like SpongeBob in that episode where he gets round and normal and no one can convince me otherwise.

[seguinshands]

Not My Scene

Pairing: Tyler Seguin x Reader

Word Count: 2071

Warnings: Swearing, partying?

Summary: The reader is not thrilled to be aboard a yacht on her Friday night. She would rather be reading, and who knew that none other than Tyler Seguin would be able to help her?

A/N: I am. So so sorry it’s been so long. It took longer than anticipated to get back on my feet after that musical. So here’s a long ass story to hopefully make up for it!

Reader’s POV

“Oh, sorry.” I stumbled away from a couple, just trying to find a quiet place to take my Kindle out from my purse and read a few chapters. But it seemed that every inch of this goddamned yacht was taken up by some unwholesome activity. People were doing shots at the bar, making out in the corridors and-wait, did that girl at the bow have her shirt off?

Shaking my head, I glanced around, feeling more panicked and fidgety as time went on. It's not that it was my first time at a party. But I could always get away. Here, the only away was the cold, swirling black water that the edges of the yacht were cutting through.

Not my idea of a good time.

And Chloe had been whisked off to who knows where. I was never going out with her ever again, the traitor.

A couple bumped into me, wrapped in a fierce embrace, heading for the cabins. I almost gagged. This entire scene made me feel sick. I wish I had stayed home with my Netflix and bookshelves.

I could barely breathe. People were pressing around me, somehow still shoulder to shoulder despite the number of people that had disappeared in pairs. Clutching my purse tighter against my hip, I wriggled through the crowd, trying to find the bathroom, because there, I could at least hole up until we docked.

But there was no way in hell that I was finding the owner of the yacht, and finding them would be near impossible.

“Hey,” a voice suddenly spoke in my ear. I jumped, turning on my heel to stare up at the guy who had spoken. A guy stood over me, with longer blonde hair, slicked back, and a cocky smirk, handsome features. His arms and slim figure made it blatantly obvious that he was an athlete or worked out a lot. He looked smart in a clearly pricier suit, but clearly still a party outfit. “You look lost. Get on the wrong yacht?” He leaned closer, making eye contact with light brown orbs.

I cleared my throat, leaning away at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “I wish. I just lost my friend and um. I’m looking for the bathroom?” It’s not like I wanted my voice to be quiet, but it came out as normal volume if not less. The guy leaned closer, and I at first leaned away before realizing that he was trying to hear me.

Unfazed by my behavior, he nodded. “Yeah, I can show you. C’mon.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me through the crowd. I was almost affronted at the action, but grateful once I realized that the chances of me getting through this crowd on my own, let alone trying to follow someone, were slim to none.

There was a line for the bathroom and the guy who was helping me out huffed. “Alright, c’mon, there’s another one down below.”

But I was starting to get a bit antsy. I had only just met this guy, didn’t even know his name, and now I was going somewhere with him where we might be in a less populated area. “No, wait a second. I can wait,” I blurted out, slipping my wrist from his grasp and getting into line before he could even turn back towards me.

We stared at each other for a beat before he sighed. “Look, I can’t make you do anything. But I think whoever is in there is praying to the porcelain gods, and you’ll be waiting forever. Trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He held out his hand, keeping the same intense eye contact that I usually shrank away from.

There was a part of me that desperately wanted to trust this guy, but there was a voice in the back of my head telling me to be cautious. I didn’t have much of a choice anyways, I actually was starting to have to go to the bathroom, and the line was quite long. “Alright, fine.” I took his hand quickly, before I had time to regret it. There was pepper spray in my purse if I needed it, and it wasn’t like he could run away on a yacht.

The guy tugged me along, and as the groups of people got more sparse, I started to feel a bit more uncomfortable. I slid my hand out of his grip and he looked down at me, then sighed. “You still don’t trust me, huh?” I sheepishly nodded. “Well, then I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel more at ease. My name is Tyler. What’s yours?”

Clearing my throat, I adjusted my purse a bit. “Y/N.”

He grinned at me. “Well, Y/N, welcome aboard.” He stopped in front of a door and dug around in his pocket for a moment before emerging with a set of keys. “There we go.” He grabbed one and unlocked the door, and I stood there frozen for a moment when I realized that it was a bedroom.

Uh oh. I dipped a hand into my purse.

“Bathroom is right through there.” He pointed towards the back corner of the room as he entered, rolling his shoulders to stretch them out.

Sure enough, there it was. I sighed in relief, slipping into the room behind him. “Thanks. Uh, you didn’t like. Steal those or anything, right?” I stuttered out, untactful as ever.

Tyler laughed heartily. “No. God, no. I own the yacht, doll face. Don’t worry.”

Embarrassed at my own assumptions, I retreated into the bathroom without another word.

When I had finished, I half expected the room to be empty, but Tyler was sat at the edge of the bed, Instagram up on his phone. He turned as I entered the room. “Hey,” he greeted lamely.

I waved, trying not to look as awkward as I probably looked. “Hi.” God, why do I sound like such an idiot?

Laying back on the bed-no, wait, his bed, he sighed. “It’s nice to have a place on this boat that I can come to when there’s so many people up there. It’s why I keep it locked. Also because if I don’t, my sheets smell like sex by morning.” He was rambling, just talking into space. I almost felt like I was interrupting a private moment, like he wasn’t even talking to me. But then he sat up a bit and looked over at me lazily. “You can hang out here for a bit if you’d like. All that doesn’t really seem like your thing.” He gestured at the ceiling, and I realized dazedly that we could still hear the music down here. It had seemed so peaceful that I almost forgot about the raging party right over our heads.

“Right. Yeah.” It wasn’t like I trusted this guy, at least not on the surface, but I was just looking for a place to read my book. It was just getting good when I left off. Spotting a couch across the space and desperately needing an escape from the alternative of sitting beside a man I barely knew on a bed, I headed over to it.

It took a few minutes to get comfortable, but I pulled my Kindle out as soon as I could, eating up every sentence greedily. I receded into my own world, forgetting about my surroundings.

So when Tyler plopped down beside me, I dropped my Kindle and gasped in genuine surprise. He looked over at me for a second before starting to laugh at my bewildered expression. A deep blush settled in my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry. I asked, like, three times what you were reading, and I’m actually interested in the answer. Figured you couldn’t ignore me when I was right next to you.” He shrugged as I picked up my Kindle and examined it for scratches.

Trying not to get too irked, because judging by his face, he really did mean well, I flipped the Kindle to show him the screen. He rose an eyebrow at the title. “What’s it about?” he asked, edging closer, face open and vulnerable. He almost looked like a child. Even without knowing him, I had a feeling that he didn’t make this face often.

Deciding to indulge, I told him what I had read so far, of the mystery that the author was weaving and the characters and what I thought was going to happen. And the thing was that he listened, really listened. Most of my friends gave the front that they were listening, but then started talking about themselves, sometimes without even letting me finish my sentence.

When I finished, Tyler nodded. “That sounds like a great book.” He flashed me a smile, and I knew instantly that my knees might’ve gone too weak to keep me standing at that point. “You seem in your element here. This is the first I’ve seen you actually excited since I met you.”

Shrugging, I turned my attention back to the screen of my Kindle, now black. “Well, that isn’t my scene. The dancing, the people. I’d rather just read.”

He nodded. “Reading isn’t my thing. I’m more of a learning by ear type of guy.”

“Why don’t you listen to audiobooks?”

Tyler bit his lip, messing with his fingers. I stared at his hands for an embarrassing amount of time as he talked. “I don’t have the attention span, I guess. I need stimulation from something else, I dunno.” He huffed in frustration.

I thought it over for a minute before opening my Kindle again. I didn’t bother asking before I started to read aloud tentatively. Tyler looked over at me, clearly surprised, but said nothing. As I went on, he seemed to relax more, which made me become more outgoing. Soon, I was adding inflection on my sentences and voices to the characters. I didn’t really notice that Tyler had his head on my shoulder until I took a break at the end of a chapter. But I didn’t tell him to get off or anything. He seemed so peaceful, at rest. It was endearing. “You want a turn?” I whispered to him, not wanting to break the moment.

Turning his head, he stared up at me, hair slightly tousled. I reached over to fix it without thinking, then blushed as I realized what I was doing. “Oh, sorry, I just…” I trailed off as I realized that he wasn’t making eye contact, he was staring at my lips.

And leaning in.

I didn’t have any time to react before his lips were against mine. Not that I would’ve leaned away. Even with the time allotted, I probably would’ve just sat there like a statue, indecisive as ever. But his kiss gave me more courage than I thought I had in me.

Sighing into him, I let my eyes fall closed. His hands cupped my face and I melted into him, sliding my fingers through his hair languidly, now. It was the most I’d felt for anyone during my entire life.

When we finally broke apart, we were both panting. “You’re good at that,” I blurted out, then quickly ran a hand through my hair to ground myself before I could say something even stupider.

Tyler smirked at me. “Don’t sell yourself short.” He looked around. “We’re docking.”

A quick panic shot through me at that. Already? But I could feel the telltale pull and knew that he wasn’t wrong. “Well.” What a poet I am. If only I could get more than one word out, that would be fantastic.

Sensing my discomfort, Tyler smiled at me. “Think I could get your number?” he asked, sliding closer, so close that our shoulders and knees were brushing.

Probably redder than a stoplight, I nodded, plugging it into his phone when he handed it over. As I stood to go, he caught my wrist. “No, wait, that didn’t mean that I wanted you to go.” Surprised, I turned to see him smirking again. “Think you could stay a bit longer?”

Gnawing at my lip, I thought it over. I didn’t have work the next day, and I could get an Uber home… “Aw, what the hell.” I plopped back down beside him.

Tyler leaned closer. “Good.” He pressed another kiss to my lips.

[seguinshands]

Chin Up

Pairing: Drew Doughty x Reader

Word Count: 894

Warnings: Swearing, innuendos, fluff and cuddling

Summary: Drew lost a game, but Y/N hates seeing him beat himself up.

Reader’s POV

Packing after an away loss was hard. The room felt heavier, the air thick with disappointment and frustration. And you couldn’t just walk away, because even the best hotel rooms were tiny compared to a house, where you could just slip into another room and avoid them.

Drew was throwing his clothes violently from the ground, where he had thrown them the night before, into his suitcase. His face was guarded and I could tell that his teeth were clenched by the tick in his jaw. Usually when he was like this, I wasn’t with him. I tended to steer clear of him when the lost a game, because he once got so angry that he broke the vase in the entryway to our house. By the next day, he was generally back to his usual self, but the time directly following a game lost…

Swallowing, I cautiously rounded the bed and set a hand on his shoulder. “Honey. Please don’t blame yourself for that loss,” I whispered as tenderly and calmly as I could.

He huffed and shrugged me off, and I instantly withdrew my hand, almost in a flinch. I didn’t mean to, but I was always jumpy around him when he got like this. Even without looking at him, I knew that he had paused. “You… are you afraid of me?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, Drew, of course not.”

A beat passed between us. “Could you please look me in the eyes?” His fingers gently landed underneath my chin, lifting my head.

Staring up at him, I sighed. There was a dark bruise around his left eye, courtesy of a fight that he’d gotten into the night before. “I’m not afraid of you,” I affirmed, meeting his gaze evenly. His eyes searched mine for a moment before he sighed, shoulders slumping.

Hands cupping my cheeks, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “M sorry, doll. I know I get different after losses…” I shook my head.

“Don’t apologize, honey.” I examined his face again, hand coming up to cradle his cheek. “I wish you wouldn’t have fought, though. You know I get so worried about you when you do.”

Drew rubbed a hand up and down his face. “I know. I was just… so frustrated. We should’ve won that game.”

“I know, sweetie.” I reached up to kiss the tip of his nose. “You’ll get em next time. I know you will.” Beaming up at him, I caught sight of a shy little grin. “But really. You could’ve lost another tooth. You can be such an idiot,” I teased, smiling up at him.

Laughing, he pulled me closer, fingers falling to catch my belt loops and bringing me so close that our chests were pressed together. “For the most part I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something.”

I let out a little scream as he picked me up and rolled onto the bed with me. “Hey, I just made this!” I pouted, looking at my ruined perfectly made bed. “You’re gonna pay for that!” I reached for him and he batted away my hands, looking amused. Groaning in frustration, I faced my back to him and threw my arms over my face. His arms wound around my waist and pulled me back to him.

Giggling, he kissed the back of my head. “What’s the matter, doll? Were you trying to do… this?” Holding me still with one arm, his free hand tickled at my neck. I squeaked loudly.

“Drew, no!” I laughed, squirming and trying to get away.

“Drew, yes!” he held me tighter, expanding his assault to my stomach. I screamed in laughter, hitting back at him. “Ow! You meanie!”

A knock came at the door so suddenly that we both jumped. Drew’s smile fell. “What time is it?”

Glancing over at the night table, I gasped. “10:30!”

“Shit!” We both scrambled off the bed, and I only had an instant to mourn the loss of the perfectly made bed before Drew opened the door.

Jeff was standing on the other side, one corner of his mouth raised slightly in a smirk. “You two busy?” He gave us both time to blush a bright red before going on. “I don’t wanna know. But thought I should interrupt you considering we leave in five minutes. If you absolutely can’t wait the five hour flight back home, I can arrange for you to rent out the bathroom for-”

Drew hit the back of his head. “That won’t be necessary, thanks,” he said dryly before shutting the door.

As soon as it was closed, I burst into giggles. “That was hysterical,” I justified at his strange look.

Rolling his eyes, he zipped up his bag. “Finish packing up, hooligan.”

Smiling so wide it hurt, I did as he asked, even having time to straighten the bed out a little before we had to leave. As we were on the way out, Drew caught my hand. “Hey.” I looked back at him, smiling his half-smile. “Thanks for helping me feel better. It means a lot.”

We both jolted as Jeff yelled down the hallway. “Yeah, we get it, you fucked!”

Our response was in unison. “Shut up, Carter!”

Pressing a quick kiss to my lips, Drew closed the door behind us.

[seguinshands]

I Couldn’t Not

Pairing: Connor McDavid x Reader

Word Count: 1337

Warnings: Swearing, married dude with no ethics

Summary: Connor and the reader go out to a club, but nothing is as it appears.

Reader’s POV

Slipping my high heels on, I called into the apartment, “C’mon, Connor, we’re gonna be late!”

The sound of Connor’s laughter filled the small space as he rounded the corner, looking great as ever in his suit and tie. “We are not going to be late for clubbing. Clubbing is a continuous thing,” he pointed out, grinning widely.

God, he was so handsome in those clothes. Really, he didn’t have to dress up so much for clubbing, but I wasn’t going to start complaining. Ignoring his comment, I blurted out the first thought to come to mind. “You look good.” I took a step closer, but didn’t dare with another. We had been best friends for years now. I couldn’t ruin a good thing. What if I got into his head and fucked up his concentration during a game or something? That’s his livelihood. I couldn’t put him through that. He didn’t deserve it.

Connor smiled, and my stress melted away. “You too.” He didn’t mean that in any way more than friendship, of course. He was always saying things like that, because he was honestly just a truly good person who liked making other people happy.

Crossing to the front closet, I grabbed my leather jacket and shrugged into it. “Ready?” I asked, looping my purse around my shoulder.

When he didn’t follow, I turned back to look at him. He had that huge smile on his face, that one that said I know what you’re up to. “You’re gonna start some chaos tonight, aren’t ya?” he retaliated, finally trailing after me.

Knowing that my eyes were already twinkling with mischief, I simply replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then, unable to keep the smirk from my face, I led the way from my apartment.

It was packed, as always. To even get into the club was a hefty bill, but everyone knew that it was the best way to find celebrities that were looking for at least someone to talk to, usually someone to go home with. People saved money for months for one single night there. As for me, Connor always paid the way in, refusing to take any money from me. One time, I had paid in advance with my credit card. I found the exact amount in a crumpled wad of cash on my couch the next morning. When I called Connor about it, he had said, “Oh, that? It’s just some spare change, you can keep it.” Spare change my ass.

Connor kept a hand on my arm, guiding me toward the bar amongst the thick press of bodies. “Usual?” he yelled over the pounding bass. I nodded and he broke through the line of people waiting for their drinks to order ours.

A hand landed on my arm and I jumped, turning toward the person grabbing me when they didn’t let go, ready to pry their hand off if need be. But when I saw them, my jaw dropped. This guy was probably on the cover of some magazine. He had dark chocolate eyes, strong jawline, stubble, sexy hair. I felt my knees go weak when he smiled, revealing rows of perfect teeth. “Let me buy you a drink?” he asked, voice a low growl that turned me to mush.

I squeaked as a strong arm wrapped around me. Connor was standing there, jaw clenched, pulling me into his side so strongly that I was getting squished. “I’m already buying her one. Thanks, though. Go try and get in some other girls’ pants.” The way he said it took me completely off guard, but he wasn’t my dad. He didn’t have a right to act like it.

Pushing away from him, I folded my arms over my chest. “Connor, cut that out.” I turned to the guy, who was starting to look a little weary. “Don’t mind him. He’s an old friend. Always acts like my big brother, ya know?” The ease that I had infused my voice with seemed to be working, as the guy’s shoulders relaxed and the grin was back on his face.

“I understand. Wanna dance?”

We were dancing for nearly an hour, arms around each other and lips connecting every once in a while. It wasn’t until he held his hand out for mine, wanting to lead in some ridiculous ballroom dance probably, that I realized that there was a ring on his finger.

Yeah. That finger.

Recoiling instantly, I stumbled back a few steps. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re married?”

He was coming closer, that same smile on his face now seeming more predatory. “Not for long. Soon, I’ll be pampering you instead. Don’t you want that, sweetheart?” He was right there, face inches from mine, eyes roaming my body. I felt sick to my stomach.

Shaking my head, I yanked my hands away from him. “I’m not going to help you cheat on our wife,” I snarled, stomping away before he could defend himself.

Approaching the bar, I sighed, elbows resting against it and head in hands. I couldn’t believe that I had just done that. “Hey, are you okay?” a familiar voice asked.

I turned my head to see Connor, looking tired but relieved. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around his waist and face-planted into his chest. “God, I’m such an idiot. I just helped that guy cheat on his wife. What kind of person am I?”

Connor held me to him, and I felt his chest heave up and down with a sigh. “You didn’t know,” he said, but even from his lips, it sounded so lame.

Groaning, I leaned back. “Let’s just go home,” I grumbled, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, leading me out of the club. As we made our way toward the car, he squeezed my shoulder lightly. “Thanks,” I whispered, rounding the car to slip into the passenger seat.

The car ride was silent. However, two blocks from my apartment, Connor pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. I turned to him, a bit surprised. “Connor, what’re you doing?” I asked, tilting my body slightly towards him to give him my full attention.

He was gripping the wheel, taking deep breaths, and I could see his leg bouncing with pent up nerves. The silence stretched on for so long that I nearly asked if he was okay, but then he spoke. “Do you know how hard it was watching you go off with some other guy?” My brain slowly turned over this new information, but before I could formulate a response, he was plowing on, volume rising steadily. “He had his hands all over you, he didn’t respect you. You deserve so much more than that, Y/N, so much more.” There was a beat of silence before he lunged forward, lips crashing against mine. I gasped into him, then relaxed, eyes fluttering closed as I pulled him closer by the lapel of his jacket.

Finally, lungs screaming for air, I leaned back, back of my head gently hitting against the seat. After a moment, I gasped, “Goddamn, you’re better at that than I thought you would be.”

Connor rose an eyebrow at me, smirk picking up the corners of his lips. “You’ve thought about me?” he teased, also breathless.

“Duh.” I grinned. “Have you met yourself?”

Laughing, Connor wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to press his lips to mine again. “I was so scared you would hate me for that,” he confessed, breath ghosting over my lips. “You’re my best friend, but I want more from you. Because I like you, Y/N. Hell, I might love you.” My heart was beating so fast in my chest. “Give me a chance?” The vulnerability in his voice softened me.

I smiled and nodded. “Of course, Connor. Of course. I couldn’t not.”

He returned the smile and kissed me again, happiness radiating from him as butterflies erupted in my stomach.

[seguinshands]

Trust

Pairing: Tyler Seguin x Reader

Word Count: 1417

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: The reader and Miro have been best friends since high school prom, but everything changes when one of his teammates decides to butt in on their reminiscing.

Reader’s POV

“Oh my God, Miro,” I laughed, reaching down to nurse my toe. “Do you have two left feet?”

Miro smiled at me sheepishly, shrugging. It was the same shrug he'd given me when we'd first met, four years ago in high school. At first, I had a huge crush on him, but he was always destined to just be a friend. “I’m not too good at this. You should know. I think I broke at least three of your toes at prom.”

Prom night didn’t have nearly as much drama as I had been told it would. I strayed away from the people notorious for that sort of thing and ended up having a great time. Miro and I had done more talking than dancing because of his two left feet, and we had been best friends ever since.

As we danced, he hummed slightly along to the tune. After a bit, he commented, “I’ve heard the guys talking about you.”

I stared up at him, not comprehending what he was saying. “What do you mean? Did I have something in my teeth last game? You told me that I didn’t, you-” It was a bit of a struggle keeping my voice down to the point of decency, even though it was completely fabricated anger.

Shushing me, Miro giggled lightly. “Not like that. I mean that they were asking for your number, what you like, if you were single…” he trailed off, leaving me time to mull over this, which I most certainly needed.

A bunch of famous hockey players were thinking about me? It was hard to believe, but I knew by the look in Miro’s eye that he wasn’t lying in the slightest. “How? What?” I shook my head up at him, a bit speechless.

Laughing at me again, he slowed our three step to a two step that was admittedly more awkward but saved my toes. “There’s one in particular who will not shut up about you,” he added, and I returned his gaze, mind racing. Not only was a hockey team into me, but one guy was seriously into me? A lot has changed since high school.

Somebody tapped Miro’s shoulder and we broke eye contact, surprised. My breath caught in my throat as I made eye contact with who had interrupted us.

There, just standing there like he wasn’t that big of a deal, was Tyler Seguin, grinning as he eyed me up and down. A shiver ran down my spine. “Can I cut in?”

Miro cast a look down at me, a slight Is this okay? that I could only nod in response to. Cautiously, he stepped back, letting Tyler sweep in and take me in his arms.

He danced us away from Miro, but I didn’t let myself worry about it too much, really just glad my toes were still attached to my feet. “Hey, Ty,” I greeted with what I hoped was an easy smile.

We hadn’t met too long ago, probably at the end of Miro’s first practice. We had ran into each other outside the locker room, me waiting for Miro. He had actually assumed that I was with Miro until I corrected him, saying that I simply was his roommate.

Tyler smiled down at me, and the childish nature of it turned the corners of my own mouth up even more. “Hi, Y/N,” he responded, sounding a bit… nervous?

No, Tyler Seguin was many things, but he was not nervous. I spun slowly before falling back into step with him, an easy waltz that he handled surprisingly well. “So, why did you steal me from Miro?” I teased, fingers playing with the tiniest string at the seam of his sleeve just for something to distract me from the extremely attractive man just inches from me.

Grinning again (I was starting to realize he did that a lot), he tightened his grip on my hand just barely. “Well, you looked like you were being tortured. Rookie isn’t the most graceful.” He gave me a winning smile, one that made me weak in the knees. “Good thing for you, I am.” He spun me again before pulling me back in, and I could swear that we weren’t this close before.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “You are a cocky one, aren’t you?” I prodded, not breaking eye contact, because Miro said that was my tell. If I was even just looking at a guy I had feelings for, my eyes would drop and my cheeks would heat. Chuckling, Tyler pulled me a tiny bit closer, sending my heart off at an erratic pace and a heat to start prickling at the back of my neck.

Now, I didn’t have anything against Miro. He was my best friend. But dancing with Tyler was different. So different. I felt like a princess, floating across the floor and dress swishing with each movement. The conversation, too, went in the stops and gos of the dance steps, Tyler nearly speaking in rhythm at times. All at once, his eyes lit up, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in someone’s eyes. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“I have an idea,” he whispered before leaning closer. So close that our foreheads were nearly touching. “Close your eyes.”

I blinked up at him. “T-Tyler, are you-”

He cut me off, gently. “Yea, I’m sure. Just close your eyes. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“I don’t really know you. What trust do I have to go off of?” I asked incredulously.

Chuckling, he pulled me in firmly. I squeaked at the unexpected movement and my hands went to his arms. I knew that he had to be strong to play hockey, but I was still a little shocked by the muscles underneath his suit jacket. Staring up at him, I caught the edge of one of his smirks. “I promise I won’t do anything without asking you. For now, we’ll just dance. C’mon,” he coaxed softly.

Normally, I wouldn’t agree. I was always cautious, always careful. But it felt right, so I let my eyes fall closed.

To my shock, it felt no different. Tyler still guided me subtly, with a slight angle here or a tightening of his grip there. I felt the heat radiating off his body before I heard his voice. “Relax,” he murmured, most definitely closer than before. “I’ve gotcha. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I realized with a start that I was stiff in my blind state. My cheeks were reddening, I could feel them, and I was trying not to panic, because how would he know my tells, anyways?

We danced for what felt like an hour, conversation occasionally flowing, but mostly just the push and pull of bodies in motion, communication never ceasing. Eventually, we started to slow, naturally stepping closer as we descended into a more leisurely sway.

I started when I felt his hand on my cheek, eyes finally blinking open again.

His eyes were close, even closer than before, and held an intensity I was sure that I’d never seen before. “Shit, I just got up the courage to kiss you,” he breathed. His cheeks were a rosy shade of pink that flattered him, made him seem more humble than his persona. “But your eyes. They’re the best part of you. They’re even prettier than before, and now I’m too chicken.”

Smiling, I gently set my forehead against his. “I wouldn’t have minded,” I admitted, staring into his eyes.

When his lips pressed against mine, I melted into him, hands reaching up to play with his ridiculous hair as his arms wound tightly around my waist. God, was he a good kisser. Of course, he probably had a lot of practice.

That thought caused me to pull back, staring up at him. His eyes were still closed, and he bit his bottom lip briefly before opening them again, meeting my gaze. There was a beat of silence before we let out a breathy laugh almost in unison. “Wow,” he whispered, bringing his arm back to run his thumb over my bottom lip slightly.

Desperately fighting down my blush, I nodded in agreement. “You made me feel… like a princess,” I finally blurted, brain wiped clear of any interesting topics by that mind blowing kiss.

Tyler smiled, maybe a bit cockily, and pulled me flush against him, making me gasp. “That’s because you are one.”

[seguinshands]

The Slightly Inept Welcome Wagon

Pairing: Marc Andre Fleury x Reader

Word Count: 1118

Warnings: Swearing, minor injuries, mention of blood

Summary: The reader has been sick while Marc was on the road, and now that he’s back, they’re sure everything will get better.

Reader’s POV

My mug was hot in my hands as I waddled up the stairs, trying with all my might not to trip on my blanket. I realized with a start that I was mouth breathing again and sniffled, trying to clear up my nose to no avail.

Marc was gone for the weekend on a road trip, leaving me home alone to get rid of this awful sickness without any help. Of course, normally I didn’t make him fetch my tea for me, but I have this weak feeling when I’m sick that makes climbing stairs a task that leaves me panting and sweaty. Besides, he insisted, wouldn’t let me move. I had figured that this newest bout of sneezes and coughing would be gone by the time he returned from the road trip, but since he was coming home tomorrow and I still regularly breathed through my mouth, I didn’t see that happening.

I felt myself startle as a loud sound reverberated through the house, but I didn’t realize that I had slipped until my legs crumpled and I hit the stairs. I gasped as the mug of tea slipped from my hands and hit the stair, sending hot tea down the stairs and onto my skin. Going ass over teakettle, I hit stair after stair after railing before hitting the hardwood floor, head first. As I lay there, feeling every ounce of the pain that was now lingering, I touched a hand to my head.

There was a distant pounding, coming closer. That’s probably not good. “Y/N? Y/N, oh my God.” It all suddenly made sense as Marc’s face popped into view, worry creasing the lines in his face. “Are you okay? Jesus, that sounded like a bad fall.”

Groaning and twisting away from him, I took my hand away from my head and gulped. Blood, but not much. Not much. It’s probably just a small cut. Damn railing. “I’m fine,” I blurted, putting the hand back. “I just need a second, that-” I cut myself off with a coughing fit.

Marc’s hands slipped under my shoulders and sat me up, pulling me across the floor so that my back was against his chest. “Baby, you’re bleeding. My God. Hospital.”

Regaining my breath, I shook my head. “I’m not hurt, I promise.” Even in my jarred state, I could recognize the doubtful look he gave me. “Not bad enough for a hospital,” I mended before pressing my eyes closed against the pain. “Where's the first aid kit?”

I gasped as Marc gathered me in his arms, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. “Alright, I’ll help you. Sit still, I don’t want you getting worse…” Pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head, he headed towards the downstairs bathroom, hurrying a bit quicker than a walk. “What hurts?”

“Um, my head, my stomach, my arm, my foot... Not bad, though. My head and stomach are the worst.” I groaned as he shifted me in his arms to set me on the sink.

Marc, now noticing that the front of my shirt was soaked, pulled it up and over my head. “Jesus, it’s still hot,” he gasped, throwing it away from himself and shaking his hand off. “Alright, let’s see your stomach,” he urged as I settled my arms around my bare waist.

Groaning, I unwrapped my arms and settled my palms behind me on the counter. “Damn.” There was bruising my ribs. “That hurt like a son of a bitch.”

The tall man before me was frowning in thought. “Well, I don’t think I can do anything about that. I’ll feel along later to make sure you didn’t break your rib or something.” He took my foot next, peeling off my sock and pressing his fingers into my ankle. Gasping as pain shot up my leg, I kicked at him with my other leg. Marc reeled back as I caught him in the jaw with my foot.

“Crap, sorry. I’m so sorry.” I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I took Marc’s face in my hands and rubbed his jaw. “I didn’t mean to, that just really hurt.”

But he was laughing. “It’s alright, I should’ve given you some warning. I’ve had worse.” He got up and headed toward the medicine cabinet. I watched him cross the room and open the door. “Alright, I think this should help.” He emerged with an ankle brace, smiling as he came back over to me.

Interrupting him, I snatched it away. “I’ll do it,” I snapped, tired of feeling useless. Marc rose an eyebrow, but said nothing. Rolling my eyes, I brought my leg up and slipped the brace on.

He stepped closer and I looked up at him. “C’mere. I’m condemning you to bed and making you soup.” His hands slipped under my thighs and picked me up, pulling me against him. Sighing in relief at the feel of his arms around me once more, I buried my head in the crook of his neck, wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders, and let myself relax.

The soft sway that his footsteps provided stopped way too soon. I grumbled as he set me down on the bed, prompting him to laugh. “I’ll be right back, calm down.” I still whined when he moved away, collapsing back onto the bed dramatically and groaning as it caused my side to ache.

One second I was staring at the off white ceiling, the next into Marc’s worried but slightly amused eyes. “Sit up,” he coaxed gently, and even though I didn’t want to, I obeyed, back slouched pathetically. “Here, I grabbed you this.” He handed me a sleep shirt, one of his old ones, and shorts. Pouting at him, I held up my arms. Eyes crinkling at the corners, he leaned down and pulled the shirt over my head.

“I’ll just keep these on, don’t worry,” I whispered. “They’re not wet or anything. Now, come snuggle with me. I don’t want any more hot stuff except you.”

His laughter loud in the silence of the room, he slid into bed next to me, pulling me close to that our noses were touching and foreheads pressed together. “Oh, I missed you, baby.” He rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “You poor thing.” Kissing my head, he tightened his grip. “There, all better.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, right?” I whispered back, smiling so wide it hurt.

“Yeah. I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

Grinning even wider, I looked up at him. “You missed.”

Marc chuckled slightly as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

[seguinshands]

The Best Things Come In French Bulldog Sized Packages

Pairing: Bo Horvat x Reader

Word Count: 1357

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive comment(ish), fear of dogs

Summary: Bo gets Gus without talking to the reader about it first. Lucky her, he gets the one animal that she is deathly afraid of.

Reader’s POV

“Bo, what did you do?” I shrieked, backing back up into the door, horrified.

Bo was sitting at the table, in his normal around the house attire, boxers and a hoodie. He was grinning, reaching down to pet the-the-

“I just got a dog. Surprise!” He grinned, clearly happy with himself. The french bulldog in his lap grunted, wriggling in an attempt to get off his lap.

Swallowing down my panic, I took a shaky step forward. “I really wish you would’ve talked to me about this first,” I squeaked out, eyeing the canine wearily. He seemed to be minding his own business… for now.

My boyfriend frowned. “What’s the matter? Do you not like him? I can’t take him back to the shelter, I just thought that maybe since we’ve been living together for two years now and the house feels empty when I’m gone or whatever it is you say... Y/N?” At this point, I was backed up into the living room. To my chagrin, he followed, dog in his arms. “Seriously, what’s the matter? I get it if you don’t like him, but you seem scared.” No shit, Sherlock.

Dancing around the couch to be as far away from him as possible, I locked eyes with Bo. “Please don’t bring him near me,” I rushed out in one breath, trying to keep my shaking down to a minimum.

Rolling his eyes, he set the dog down. I was too frozen to make a run for it. “Go ahead, Gus. Go over by your mama.”

And then, like the dog actually knew what Bo was saying, he turned and started coming towards me. I didn’t know what else to do. He was advancing, and I was cornered, and who’s saying that he won’t attack me?

Gus sneezed, but the quick movement startled me and I burst into tears. Bo finally swept in, picking the dog up and taking him outside before he could terrorize me any longer. When he came back, I was sitting on the floor hugging my knees to my chest, sniffling.

I heard him sigh before he sat criss cross in front of me, taking hold of my hands gently. “Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice sounded so concerned, so confused, so worried, and it nearly broke me.

Looking up at him through teary eyes, I whispered, “Promise you won’t laugh or make fun of me?”

Raising my hand to press a kiss to the back of it, he responded, “Of course.”

Hiccuping as I tried to recover from crying, I confessed, “I-I’ve been afraid of dogs since I was eight. My best friend was involved in an accident where two dogs hurt her really badly.” I wiped my face before returning my hand to his. “And I know that it’s irrational and sometimes I want to love dogs so much, but I just… I just can’t get past it.”

Expecting a scoff of disbelief or amusement, I squeaked in surprise when he leaned forward to wrap his arms tightly around me. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I would never have gotten him if I knew that you would react this way. I just wanted to do something nice is all. I can ask my mom if she’ll take him in?” Not answering, I slipped my arms around his shoulders, pulling myself into his lap, nose nuzzled against his collarbone as he traced circles at my hip. “I hate seeing you like this, baby.” He kissed the side of my head, tender as ever. “And I don’t wanna push you, but… Could you please just meet him? I-I grew attached, and I wanna keep him.”

I leaned back to survey his face. Guilt was written in the dip of the frown at the corners of his mouth, clenched state of his jaw, but most of all in his eyes. Biting my lip, I thought it over. Finally, I nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll give him a chance.” I stood before I had the time to change my mind. “But if I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

This time, Bo did laugh, prompting a light smack from me against his shoulder. “What? That dog won’t do anything to you, I promise. If he makes a move, I’ll intervene before he hits any serious arteries.”

“Gee, thanks, babe,” I grumbled, shaking my hands in an attempt at calming my nerves.

Without making a huge deal of it, Bo took my hand in his, squeezing gently. “C’mon. He should be out here.” He led me outside, clearly noticing but not commenting on how I took smaller and smaller steps as we went on, dread starting to build in my stomach.

I never should’ve agreed to this, because if I say no now, he’ll never forgive me for it. He’ll hold it against me. I should’ve just said no at the beginning and it would’ve all been just fine.

Gus came running towards us when Bo whistled for him. Seeing the dog coming at full speed, I stepped slightly behind Bo, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He was too busy leaning down to scratch the dog behind the ears to pay attention to me, though. As I stood there, shifting feet and taking longing glances at the front door, Bo looked up and smiled at me. “C’mon down.”

Taking a deep breath, because honestly meeting a dog shouldn’t even be all that hard, I knelt beside Bo. Gus turned to me, nose twitching as he sniffed around me. I sat still as a statue, barely breathing. Bo leaned towards me. “Relax. And breathe. I’m right here, okay?”

Nodding tentatively, I reached for the dog. He made a jerky movement toward my hand and I recoiled, nearly landing on my ass. Bo looked over, slightly amused now. “He’s just trying to smell you. Here.” His hand grabbed mine again and, before I had time to panic, led it over to Gus.

I was frozen there, hand out with Bo’s fingers around my wrist, legs poised to spring backwards if Gus decided that he would rather have a snack than a belly rub.

But Gus simply walked up, sniffed at my hand and… and licked it. I blinked. Well, he could just be getting a sample of what I taste like or… “He likes you,” Bo grinned, free arm circling me.

The little dog stared up at me, eyes curious, but eager. Slowly, I felt the fear start to change into a different emotion, but I couldn’t quite tell what it was yet.

I stiffened again when Gus plopped into my lap, but he simply rolled around, panting, seeking belly rubs, probably. Remembering that I had read somewhere that the action was a sign of trust, I allowed myself a small smile.

“Ha! Okay, we’re keeping him.”

I looked over at Bo, who was smiling triumphantly. When I took my hands away from him, Gus bolted into the yard. “Hey, don’t act like it was all you. It was the dog,” I teased. “I can’t believe he liked me so much right off the bat,” I added, still a bit in awe.

Bo pouted at me. “You didn’t get that excited when I licked you the first time.”

Shooting him a look, I shoved his arm off. “I’m going inside.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

I blinked down at him before ruffling his hair. “I actually have to pee, but I appreciate your concern.”

Bo laughed and turned his head to kiss my palm. “I’m glad you like him. Now you won’t be alone when I’m not home. Gus will protect you.”

I snorted. “Right. Like Gus will actually do anything to protect me.” I looked pointedly to where he was chasing a butterfly, but it was clear even when he jumped for it that he was being gentle.

Bo stood, pressing his lips to my forehead. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Gus can run around for a bit longer.” Nodding, I led him in, his hand in mine as I thought about how lucky I was to have him to push me through my fears.

[seguinshands]

Hot Cocoa and Cream

Pairing: Tyler Seguin x Reader

Word Count: 1170

Warnings: Swearing, Tyler bein a lil shit

Summary: The reader goes on a shopping spree, the last thing that Tyler wants to do.

Reader’s POV

“I don’t like this,” Tyler mumbled, close enough that I could feel his breath ghosting across my neck.

The mall stretched out in front of us, sparsely populated. The only stores that remained were the cornerstone stores, like Burlington and GAP. It was a wonder that the place was still running. Thankfully, I wasn’t attached to it. However, I had spent two hours looking for a nearby mall to go to that we could go shopping at that was out of the way, and I wasn’t just going to let him step on my toes.

Stopping, I turned to give him a look. “Tyler,” I scolded. “We need to shop, and it was a half hour drive here. We are not wasting gas like that.”

Tyler grumbled, looking remarkably like a pouty little kid. “I make enough money where we can afford that.”

“Yes, I know. But it’s still wasteful. At least let me shop a bit, okay? I’ve been dying to get my hands on some stuff.” After a moment, Tyler nodded, giving in. “Thank you. Now, go mope somewhere else.” He looked at me, frozen for a second. “You heard me, get outta here, tough guy. Unless you don’t want something for Christmas.”

That got him moving pretty fast. Giving me a quick peck on the lips before I could protest, he was gone.

With a sigh, I dug out my phone and looked through the Christmas lists I had patched together for everyone.

The shopping was all done within maybe an hour, and for how uninhabited the mall was, it was insanely difficult to find Tyler. Eventually giving up, I began to look around for a bench to sit on when it came into view. Gasping, I hurried over to the Bath and Body Works, taking a big whiff of the perfumed air. Oh hell yes.

Waving quickly at the employee behind the counter, I started my hunt for a good lotion and price.

I lost track of time as I picked different things off the shelves, putting some back and grabbing others. I had just cycled my way around to the candles when a hand landed on my arm. I jumped about a foot in the air, dropping two of the lotions.

Tyler’s surprised face came into view. “Jesus Christ, babe.” He swooped down and picked up the discarded bottles. “You have, like, $200 worth of lotions. Don’t you have some at home?”

Looking down, I realized that I did, in fact, have a lot of lotions. The woman behind the register was eyeing me up like I was crazy. A deep blush settled over my cheeks. “W-well, a lot of these are seasonal scents, ya know?”

Giving me a skeptical look, Tyler slowly took the candle I had picked up from my hand. “Nuh-uh. I’m cutting you off. No more.”

“But Tyleerrrrrr.” I whined, grabbing the candle again. “Just smell it, it’ll mask the house’s sweaty male smell.”

Tyler laughed loudly, leaning against a table. “Fine, one. I mean that. One. As in singular.”

Plowing through the candles, I got it down to five. “Which one?” I asked. When there was no answer, I looked back. Tyler was sitting on the bench outside, playing around on his phone, one measly bag in hand. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the two candles that I liked best and swept over to the cashier.

$214.84 later, I was exiting the storefront with ten bags in hand, four of them being from Bath and Body Works. “Tyler! Help, I’m getting crushed!” Tyler looked up and grinned, not moving to get up.

“Serves you right.” He finally stands, walking away. “Let’s go, sexy.”

By the time we got out to the car, which Tyler insisted on parking as close as possible, my arms felt like they were going to fall off. Setting the bags against the brand new Lambo, I glared over at him. “Open the door, dumbass.”

He smirked, but his tone was clipped. “Get your bags off my car.”

Rolling my eyes, I lifted them slightly. “Unlock the doors!” I snapped, and he chuckled before opening the trunk for me. Grumbling, I dumped all of it in and stuck my tongue out at him. “I can’t do anything with sore arms, asshole,” I snapped, rubbing my aching bicep.

Tyler rounded the car, grabbing me from behind before I could move. “Hey!” I gasped as he lifted me by the waist. I scrambled, reaching back to hit at him. “Tylerrrr, I wanna go hoooome.” Grinning, he ruffled my hair obnoxiously and set me back on my feet. My fingers instantly combed through my hair, trying to fix the damage. “Not funny!” I slammed the trunk shut and slid into the passenger seat. He was giggling to himself the entire ride home.

Not that his highness could bother himself with helping once we got home, either. He walked into the house without a look back, measly bag in hand.

“Fucking asshole!” I screamed after him, and heard him cackle in return. Humphing to myself, I hauled it all into our bedroom, having to take three breaks on the way. During the first, I ignored where Tyler was sprawled out, playing some dumb video game.

Shoving it all into the closet, I grabbed a lotion from the bag, Hot Cocoa & Cream. My stomach grumbled as I lathered up my hands with it. Throwing it onto the bed, I plopped down after it, face in the blankets. I could feel my arms throbbing and I groaned.

A deep chuckle sounded from the doorway, but I didn’t raise my head. “Hey, sexy. You look exhausted. You alright?” he teased.

“I hate youuu,” I complained, throwing my arms over my head.

Tyler came closer, floor creaking under his feet. “Don’t be like that.”

I turned my head to glare at him. “Don’t be like an asshole then,” I retaliated, closing my eyes.

The bed dipped and I whined, lashing out blindly at him. His hand grabbed my wrist firmly enough to keep from striking him.

“Hey, calm down, sexy,” he purred, other hand gently stroking over my back. I relaxed into the covers, groaning as the massage worked out the knots in my back. I could hear the smirk in Tyler's voice as he said, “Hm, there we go.”

Mumbling, I opened my eyes, managing a half-glare at him. “I'm gonna wring your neck, you heathen,” I threatened into the blanket.

Laughing, Tyler plopped on top of me, causing me to let out a long whine of complaint. “I'm warming you up, quit bitching.” I squeaked as Tyler's arms squeezed around me. “Gotcha. By the way, you smell amazing.” His nose nuzzled into the side of my neck and I melted into his touch. “Good enough to eat.” He promptly bit me right under the ear.

“Ow! Tyler, I swear to God!” I twisted, but couldn't get anywhere with his arms around me.

“Aw, you're so cute when you're mad.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

[seguinshands]

Smile, Beautiful

Pairing: Johnny Gaudreau x Reader

Word Count: 1308

Warnings: Insulting from a male specimen, swearing, sexual comment, dude gets punched because he deserves it

Summary: It’s a busy night at the bar where the reader works because the local hockey team has slid into a playoff spot. Who should walk in but the angel himself.

Reader’s POV

Above the bar, the news anchors were all talking about the win against the Tampa Bay Lightning. Again, the rowdy crowd of people wearing Calgary Flames jerseys screamed in approval, stumbling around and clapping each other on the back like they were the team itself. It always got busy when the hockey team won, but apparently this one had just barely squeezed them into a playoff position, so it was a huge deal.

Eric called from the other side of the bar. “Hey, Y/N, get this incoming group, will ya?” His New York accent seeped heavily into his words. He could usually keep it under control, as the Canadians tended to think it was rather out of the ordinary. But when the people in the bar were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and barely fitting, all shoving each other to get their drink first from the meager three bartenders, it was extremely stressful. Besides, everyone was too drunk to care at this point. Or, unfortunately, drinking made them into major assholes. I didn’t know. I only saw them at their very drunkest.

“Hey, bartender with the ass!” some guy shouted down the bar. “If I give you 69, will you get my drinks faster?”

Growling under my breath, I ignored him, instead approaching the big group that had just entered. They all had a similar build, and they all looked familiar to the point where it was right on the edge of my mind, just out of reach. “How may I help you?”

Before the group could answer, somebody grabbed my arm, yanking me into the bar. Gasping, I pulled away, stumbling back. The guy who had called out to me was reaching across the bar for me. “Did you not hear me, you ugly bitch? Me and my friends want some-” My anger rose quickly until I took two strides forward and, before he could react, punched him in the nose.

The bar erupted in noise as the guy was dragged off by his friends as Eric threatened to call 911, now by my side. “We have a lot of witnesses. Don’t come into this bar again. And you can tell any misogynistic assholes like yourself that they can see themselves out, too. You ever threaten my employees again…” He was shaking with rage.

I swallowed, putting a hand gently on his arm. “It’s alright,” I told him under my breath. “He got the message. Go get those guys over there, I’ve got this group.” Eric looked down at me for a moment, salt and pepper hair and aged eyes searching. Finally, he sighed and gave in, going to another section of the bar. I made sure that he went over there and didn’t stop at the phone before I approached the same group, who had now somehow gotten seats at the bar. “Sorry about the wait.” I plastered on a smile. “How can I help you?”

They all ordered fairly easy drinks, nothing too particular. When I got to the last guy, I was struck by how different he was to the rest of the team. Shorter, with wilder hair and a gentler smile. And cute, in a boyish way that the others couldn’t even begin to emulate. Before I could ask what he wanted, he blurted out, “I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

Not that I wasn’t used to that from all the drunk male, and female, patrons in the bar, but… this took me by surprise. It was genuine, serious, and I could tell with a look that he did not say this lightly. I smiled at him, suddenly feeling bashful. “What prompted that?”

The guy before me blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um. That guy. He said that you were ugly. But I don’t think that you are.” His words got steadily quieter, making me lean in closer to hear him.

Grinning, I grabbed a glass from beneath the bar. “Thank you, sweetie. What would you like?”

He shrugged. “I’m the designated driver. Water, I guess.”

Normally, I would’ve said something like, “One beer wouldn’t hurt. C’mon,” just to get them to tip me. Instead, I just got him his water, not wanting to… I didn’t even know. Corrupt him? It wasn’t like he was a little kid. “What’s your name?” I said, making conversation as I set the water in front of him.

“Johnny. Gaudreau.” He smiled sheepishly, and it finally clicked in my mind where I’d seen these guys before, and why they had so easily nabbed the seats closest to the bar. They’re on the Flames.

Wow. They’re like… celebrities or something. Of course. I had been too shaken to realize that half of the girls in the bar were staring down the guys sat along the bar. Clearing my throat, I smiled at him. “Y/N. Y/L/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled back, taking a sip of his water. “Same here.”

The night carried on, and I grabbed drink after drink for everyone who approached me, throwing smiles around and laughing with the customers. By the end of the night, the group of Calgary Flames were the only ones left in the bar, most of them drunk. All but one.

I told Eric that I would close down, promised to stay safe, and he was gone in the blink of an eye. I found myself hanging around by Johnny, having tame conversation with him, one that my great great grandparents would probably think was moving too slow. I couldn’t help it, though. He seemed almost fragile. He had that innocent aura about him, the one that said he’d never done this before, never had the courage to. It was… absolutely adorable.

To the point where I found myself disappointed when they all got up and started leaving. I waved to Johnny and he smiled, beckoning me over from where I was cleaning the bar. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, but I forced them down and headed towards him. He had a pen in his hand. “Could I maybe… get your number?” he asked quietly, confidence clearly having had sank in the short time it took me to walk over to him.

Nodding, I took the pen and wrote my phone number on the back of his hand. He beamed at me and, before I could quite realize what he was doing, kissed the back of my hand. I blushed madly, and I could tell that he was starting to blush, too.

“Hey, Johnny Boy, quit flirting, Treliving doesn’t want us out any later,” one of them hollered, and the others dissolved into laughter.

John’s cheeks reddened even further. “Talk to you later,” he whispered, starting to head away.

Biting my lip, I dashed after him. “Johnny, wait.”

He stopped and turned to stare at me, but I was already pressing my lips to his in my burst of courage. His teammates cheered and I quickly leaned away, breathless and hoping to God that he wouldn’t think I was awful for that.

The biggest smile I’ve ever seen was spread across his face. Before we could get a word in edgewise, however, his group was dragging him away, and then they were just… gone.

I felt my own smile fall as I closed up. What if I had acted too fast? What if he never did text me? I hadn’t gotten his number. He probably thought I was a weirdo or something.

Just as I locked the front door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I brought it out and looked down to see a text from an unknown number. -I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are, inside and out. Would you like to join me for dinner on Saturday?-

There it was again. -Duh.- I responded, smiling widely.

[seguinshands]

The Slightest Inconvenience

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

Word Count: 1209

Warnings: Mentions of broken arm, pain, swearing, innuendo

Summary: The reader doesn’t want to go to the charity event that her boyfriend wants to go to, but he won’t take no for an answer.

Reader’s POV

“I am not going with this thing on my arm.”

Pierre rolled his eyes. “You look fine. Besides, you’ve gone to the grocery store with it on. Why is this different?”

I turned from where I was one-handedly hanging up the dresses I had pulled out as possibilities to give him a scalding look. “Ah, yes. Fancy charity event, grocery store. Tomato, tomato.”

There was a huff from behind me before his arms encircled me, pulling me back against his chest. “Y/N, just because you broke your arm doesn’t mean that you can’t go to the charity event.”

Whining and squirming, I humphed. “Well, I don’t wanna,” I pouted, gently hitting his arm.

His arms tightened around me. “Quit acting like a two year old.” I really didn’t want to do what he wanted, but my arm was starting to hurt, the deep ache that returned every once in awhile. Grumbling under my breath, I leaned back into his embrace. “Thank you. Now.” He released me with one arm to grab one of the dresses I had put back into the closet, deep blue that swept to the floor elegantly, lace sleeves that were shockingly comfortable, sweetheart neckline. It probably cost a lot. He’d gotten it for me for what he claimed to be my birthday, even though it not only was months from my birthday, but he also got me another expensive gift that same birthday. I had been hesitant, but he had told me that he enjoyed pampering me.

I eyed the dress up and down nervously. “How am I supposed to get my arms through the sleeves?” I said skeptically.

Pierre frowned. “I’ll help you, of course.”

Scoffing, I reached instead for the one dress that didn’t have sleeves. “C’mon, don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get my arm in, even with your help.” Pierre turned me in his arms and tilted my chin up. I should’ve seen it coming, the irresistible puppy dog eyes. “No way, Dubois. Not gonna happen.” He kept it up, hand that remained on my hip drawing small circles. “Nuh uh. No.” He pouted. “Ugh, fine!” I snatched the dress from him.

Laughing now, he released his grip on me. “Baby, I’ll help you.”

“I’m fine,” I groaned, but it came out really as much more of a whine.

His face turned stern. “I. Am. Helping. You. Now, sit.”

I shot him a look before sitting on the bed, laying the dress out beside me. “Are you sure you want to try and get my arm in the sleeve? It’s gonna take, like, 20 minutes.”

Raising an eyebrow at me, he gestured for me to raise my arms. “You doubting me?” Yes. He could tell by the look on my face. “Well, don’t. I can do this. I promise.”

Just as he finished his statement, the shirt got caught on my arm. “Ow!” I squeaked, wriggling.

“Shit. Sorry, m sorry.” He concentrated on carefully removing my arm from the sleeve, eyebrows coming together and tongue pressed between his lips the slightest bit.

Finally, the shirt was off, but my arm was aching more profoundly now. “Pierre, just leave me at home. I’m hopeless,” I insisted.

He gave me a look again. “I’m not giving up after this much progress. Sorry I hurt you, though.” His voice softened at the last part, face turning regretful.

I reached out to gently touch his cheek. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to. Now, I think I can get my pants off myself.”

At last, his face split in a grin as he pressed my good shoulder back to the bed, hovering over me. “You sure?”

Feeling my face heat up, I pushed at his bicep. “We do not have time for that. C’mon, if we’re gonna do this event, let’s at least be on time.” Knowing that he would be using his full puppy dog eyes, I got off the bed and wriggled awkwardly out of my sweatpants without looking at him. “Okay, now I need help.” I turned toward him, still blushing a bit.

Pierre beamed at me, crossing the room to me. “Okay, which way does this one go on?”

Snorting, I patted his head. “Same way it comes off, bud.”

He was batting away my hand, but his cheeks were reddening. “Grab my shoulders as best as you can.” I obeyed, still giggling at my own joke. Kneeling down, he pooled the dress on the ground, holding the collar. “Step in, please.” Again, I did as he asked, careful to not step on the slick fabric as he pulled it up my body. “Okay,” he said when we were face to face again. “Alright. Now for the tricky part. Please put your good arm into the sleeve?” I nodded, carefully slipping my arm in and thanking him quietly when he tugged it into place. Then his fingers skimmed my other arm. “Now for this.”

Grabbing my arm once I nodded in permission, he tried to maneuver my arm into the sleeve. But each attempt was more frustrating and brought a sharp bite of pain. I squirmed in his hold. Finally, just as impatient as me, he huffed. “Would you just hold still?”

I groaned. “It hurts. Can we please just stay home? Pretty plea-Ow! You asshole!” I yelped as he pulled my arm quickly and untactfully into the sleeve.

Unfortunately, he was out of reach before I could smack him, zipping up the back of the dress. “Sorry. You were complaining even when I was barely touching you. No choice.”

As he stepped back into view, I smacked at his head. “You fucking asshole, that hurt!” I snapped, reminding myself that I had just got the pain in check, and that I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry.

Pierre barely flinched at the hit. “Y/N, you know I was just trying to help you. I’m really sorry that I hurt you.” Even though I could hear the regret in his voice, I still refused to apologize, moving toward the closet to try and find some matching shoes. As I sat on the bed, trying like hell to put the heels on, he leaned against the wall in front of me. “You look beautiful. You really, really do.”

I paused, looking up at him. “Huh?”

He pushed off of the wall and strode over to me. “You look stunning. Absolutely incredible. I’ll be a lot more careful when I’m taking it off tonight, okay?” I hadn’t thought of the statement in the inappropriate sense until he winked at me.

Making a sound of exasperation, I lazily hit at his shoulder. “Why did you have to ruin our moment?”

“Wait, we were having a moment?” Pierre’s face was absolutely priceless, a bit panicked.

Laughing, I stood and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I think I overreacted a bit. It didn’t hurt that bad, honestly.” I shrugged sheepishly.

Grinning widely down at me, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “C’mon. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

“You owe me so big after that,” I grumbled, cut off halfway as Pierre leaned down to capture my lips in his.

[seguinshands]

Massage

Pairing: Tyler Seguin x Reader

Word Count: 688

Warnings: Swearing, hands under shirt, copious amount of fluff tbh

Summary: The reader comes home from a long day at work and Tyler makes them feel better.

Reader’s POV

Sighing heavily, I dropped my bag to the floor beside the shoes. Distantly, I could hear the dogs barking to their heart’s content. My forehead throbbed, prompting me to press a hand to it as I kicked off my flats. It had been a 15 hour day, gone from 5 to 10 due to a malfunction in the software. And the most infuriating part of it was that we hadn’t even solved the problem.

“Hey, gorgeous, that you?” Tyler’s voice accompanied his footsteps creaking down the stairs. “I was getting worried, you didn’t call.” Exhaustion hit me like a freight train at his words and I sat beside my shoes, exhaling slowly and leaning my head back against the wall.

I didn’t realize how strange it would’ve been to an outsider if they saw me like that until Tyler chuckled from above me. “Comfy?”

Picking up my head, I couldn’t even muster the energy to glare at him. I just stared up at him, eyes dull and hair frazzled. He came toward me quickly, bending down. “Hey, sexy,” he murmured to me as he scooped me gently into his arms. “Long day, huh? Let’s get some sleep.” Standing up again, he cradled me to his chest, and I basked in the warmth of his chest, eyes falling shut.

Going up the stairs provided a sweet, slow lull for me to begin to drift off to.

Groaning, I finally strung together a sentence. “Feel like my brain got steamrolled.”

I could feel Tyler’s chest shaking with his deep laughter. “I bet. I’ve gotcha now, sexy. I’ve gotcha,” he whispered, lips pressing briefly to my forehead.

It felt like he was setting me down too soon, and I whined, grabbing for him. He laughed aloud now. “Calm down. I’m taking off my pants because I know you think the denim is too scratchy for cuddles.” A moment later, the bed dipped beside me and his arm slipped around my waist. “There, that wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

Ignoring his dumb question, I buried myself under the covers and burrowed into his arms. My neck complained at the angle, but I ignored it, knowing that I was tired enough that I could fall asleep even with it sore.

And then my back joined in.

At first, I shifted slightly at an attempt at getting my back into a more comfortable position. Then, getting steadily frustrated, I moved around more in jerky movements, rearranging the pillows and twisting and trying my damnedest not to wake up Tyler.

So when he spoke, it scared me halfway to death. “You alright there?” The smirk in his voice was clear, and I’m sure that it only got worse when I jumped and made a sound somewhere in between a squeak and a yelp.

Hitting his shoulder lightly, I groaned. “My back is killing me. I dunno what I did.”

“C’mere, sexy.” He pulled me to him easily, flipping me onto my stomach. “Just try to relax, alright?” Too tired to argue, I nodded and set my head in my arms.

His hands slowly started working out the knots in my back, and I felt myself slowly relaxing as he got to my shoulders. Everything felt like it was releasing from being tensed up for too long.

And then the little fucker slipped his hands under my shirt, rough hands against the bare skin of my back. “Hey, don’t get any ideas,” I grumbled as firmly as I could as they entered lower back territory.

“I’m offended, sweetheart. You really think that I would-?” I turned my head enough to glare at him. “Okay, you might be right, but I respect you and I know that you’re tired.” I didn’t doubt his words, but I did notice that after that, he kept my shirt between his hands and my skin.

I was almost asleep when he pulled my back to his chest and slid his arms around my waist, kissing my forehead firmly. “Get some sleep, sexy. I’ll be here in the morning. Just for you.”

Humming in response, I let myself fall into unconsciousness.