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zegrasdrysdale · 2 months ago

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[ oh captain, my captain ] q. hughes

day 2 of kinktober (captain kink w/ quinn hughes)

➾ paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

➾ summary : Quinn’s girlfriend calls him "Cap" after hearing the nickname come from his teammates, and Quinn reacts totally normally

➾ warning(s) : smut !! captain kink, light dom!quinn, nicknames during sex, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it)

➾ author’s note : i am Not gonna lie … this has been living in a word doc unfilnished for months so i thought that this would be the perfect time to finish it and let it out to see the light of day. enjoy :)))

kinktober schedule

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When her boyfriend asked her a few weeks ago to accompany him to an event that the Canucks were holding, she was not looking forward to it at all. It's a very private event that the Canucks hold at the start of every season for new Canucks to get to know their new teammates and for returning Canucks to catch up. She's managed to be busy on this day for the past two years of their relationship so she didn't have to go, but she can't dodge the event any longer. Especially now that Quinn is captain.

The dress she bought for this event is stunning and she couldn't wait to wear it to the event. It's a sparkly navy blue number that hugs her curves. The thin straps hold up a plunging v-neckline that shows off her cleavage in a way that Quinn loves. There's a high slit in the skirt that goes about halfway up her thigh.

She feels like she could've dressed a little more modestly when she walks into the ballroom and finds that a lot of the women dressed in more high cut and full length gowns. She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover her exposed cleavage.

A couple of Quinn's teammates greet their captain as soon as the two of them walk into the large room decorated in blue, green, and white. She hears the nickname "Cap" thrown around as a few of the veteran Canucks greet him. That's a new nickname that catches her attention immediately.

The significant others of the teammates that greet Quinn greet her. She does her best to hold a conversation with the group of women but her eyes continue to shift toward her boyfriend in his suit. He has on one of his game day suits from last season that doesn't really fit him anymore so it hugs his arms and thighs nicely.

"Your dress is beautiful, by the way," Lexie Demko compliments. She turns her attention to Thatcher's wife. "I mean it. It's stunning. I guess it's to be expected for the captain's girlfriend to sparkle." The group of women laugh and she forces a smile.

Sometimes she questions if she should be the one leading this group of women because she's only 23 and still kind of young. It's one thing for Quinn to lead the Canucks because he's a natural leader and knew he was probably going captain this team one day. He's had a lifetime of experience because he's the oldest of three brothers.

She was kind of thrust into the role of lead WAG with his captaincy appointment last season. Her version of being a leader means being the one that plans the parties and plans the playoff attire. Making sure all the other wives and girlfriends are okay, making sure they catch their flights to make it to whatever city they're following their boyfriend or husband to so she can watch him play. It's no NHL team, but it takes up a lot of her time. Especially party and playoff jacket planning.

Quinn looks over at her and her brain immediately goes blank. He's still surrounded by his teammates, but he's looking at her like that. It should be illegal to look like that.

She excuses herself from the group of wives and girlfriends to approach her boyfriend. She tries not to feel tiny among a group of hockey players, but she is.

"Cap," she teases with a smile. "I'm kinda hungry so can we go grab something to eat?" Quinn's cheeks turn bright red at the use of his new nickname. His teammates snicker around him at his reaction.

All he can do is nod in response to her and grab her hand. He guides her away without a single word, but his cheeks remain tomato red.

She's rendered him speechless. All by calling him "Cap." Maybe she'll have to start doing that more often if this is how he reacts.

They grab a plate of food and head to their table. No one else is sitting at the table but she knows that it's her, Quinn, JT, JT's wife, Brock, Thatcher, and Lexie at the table. Their tablemates are still mingling amongst the players and coaches in the room while they sit and eat.

Quinn leans over to her and says softly in her ear, "I'm going to need you to not call me 'Cap' again while we're here."

"Oh," she breathes out. "So your teammates can call you Cap, but I can't?"

He presses his lips in a line and meets her eyes. "It doesn't sound sexy coming out of their mouths like it does yours," he mumbles. "So, please don't call me Cap or Captain while we're here or you'll find yourself on your knees in the bathroom helping me with my little problem."

A small smirk forms on her lips as she takes a bite of pasta. "It's not a 'little' problem, Quinn," she tells him. "It's a pretty big problem."

Quinn groans and rubs his hands over his face. "You're killing me," he groans. "Oh my God."

She giggles and takes another bite of pasta like the conversation isn't ruining the panties she has on under the dress. Quinn follows suit and begins to eat his plate of food.

Their tablemates join them a few minutes later with their own plates. She converses with Lexie and Natalie Miller while their husbands talk with Quinn and Brock. She laughs with them, but the entire time, she thinks about the little conversation she and Quinn had about calling him Cap or Captain.

She's absolutely trying it when they get home to see what kind of reaction she gets out of him when he isn't surrounded by his friends.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They leave the event once Quinn gives a little speech to hype up his teammates. Tocchet also gives a speech once Quinn was done, but he needed to stay until he was done talking. He orders an Uber back to their Vancouver apartment before Tocchet is even done his speech so they can leave as soon as he's done.

The Canucks applaud their head coach for his speech and they make a break for the door before anyone can stop them. Quinn has her hand in his as they make their way outside. Their Uber is waiting for them when they exit the building.

Quinn slides in first and she follows him. One of her hands rests on his knee and she leans over to say, "You looked good while you were giving your little speech." She pauses for a beat. "Captain Quinn."

His head snaps in her direction. "What did I tell you-"

"Just wanted to see something," she giggles as she glances down at the growing bulge in his already tight pants. "And I see what I wanted to see." Her voice drops a couple of octaves so only he can hear. "Do you like when I call you Captain, Quinn?"

He gnaws on his bottom lip. "You're playing a very dangerous game right now," he warns her. "I'm not trying to ruin these pants."

She leans into him and says against his ear, "Then maybe you shouldn't like to be called 'captain' by your girlfriend." Her lips touch the swell of his ear as she talks. Quinn shivers under her lips before she pulls back to meet his eyes. She finds his usually bright eyes dark with lust.

She's not sure she's going to make it into the apartment if she keeps playing this game with him.

"You are ..." Quinn trails off with a smile and a shake of his head. She grins while he tries to find the words to say. "Something else." His fingers trace the slit in her dress, leaving goosebumps behind where he touches her skin.

The Uber comes to a stop two minutes later. She doesn't risk saying another word until they're in the building. The elevator is probably not the best place to say anything either.

Still, it doesn't stop her from poking the bear though.

"Captain Quinn Hughes," she pretends to think out loud. "Even after a year, it still roles off the tongue. Don't you think, Cap?"

"Oh my fucking God," Quinn groans as he turns to face his girlfriend.

Before she can react, Quinn cups her cheeks and pulls her into a hot kiss. He steps so her back is pressed against the wall of the elevator. She grips his jacket as he presses his chest completely against hers. Quinn shoves a thigh between her legs, moving the dress to the side so his thigh presses against her already damp core.

This is a side of Quinn she's pretty sure she hasn't seen in their two and a half years together. He's very particular about his touches and his movements. Slightly rougher with them as well. She might like this side of Quinn.

The elevator dings once it arrives at their floor. Quinn pulls back and grabs her hand as the doors slide open. "Let's go, pretty girl," he says to her, voice soft. "You need to help me with my not-so-little problem before it ruins these pants."

She giggles as Quinn leads her out of the elevator and down the hall to their apartment. It's a moment before Quinn gets the door open but once he does, he pulls her inside and pins her against the door to shut it.

Quinn holds her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "I hope this dress didn't cost a lot," he says. "Because it might end up torn and on the floor tonight.”

“Quinn Hughes, you better not rip this dress because if you do, you’re buying me a new one,” she warns him. “I mean it too. You better not.”

He grins and hooks his fingers around the spaghetti straps that sits on her shoulders. “I guess I’ll be nice,” he sighs as he pulls the strap off her shoulders. Quinn's eyes fall to the fabric that he pulls down to expose her breasts.

There's about one second between when the fabric pools around her waist and when Quinn crashes his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their lips mold against each other and his hands cup her breasts. She groans into the kiss and he takes full advantage to explore her mouth with his tongue.

She pulls his suit jacket off his body and it falls to the floor with a light thud. She pushes him toward their bedroom without breaking the kiss.

In the very short trip from their front door to their bedroom, she loses her heels and dress in the hallway while Quinn's tie ends up on the living room floor and his button up gets unbuttoned and untucked as they enter their bedroom. She jumps and wraps her legs around his waist. He kicks the door shut and walks toward their bed.

"What do you want me to do, Cap?" she questions between kisses.

"You know, every time one of my teammates calls me Cap, I'm going to think of you and it's going to end in endless teasing for me," Quinn points out as he sits on the mattress. He pulls back to look at her. "If my teammates mess with me because I get hard after one of them refers to me as Cap, it won't end well for you since it'll be your fault."

She feigns being hurt. "Ouch, Quinn," she says. "I guess I'll never call you Cap ever again."

"I didn't say that," Quinn very quickly replies. "Just letting you know what will happen."

“I’m so scared,” she teases.

“Shut up and get on your knees, pretty girl.”

His stern voice when he says that shoots straight down to her core. She bites her bottom lip as she slides off of Quinn’s lap and to her knees on the carpeted floor below her.

Her fingers work at unbuttoning his dress pants. She pulls them down along with his boxers. His hard dick stands up against his stomach when it’s free from the confines of his underwear. She takes him in her hand and looks up at him. She gnaws on her lip before she says, “Whatever you say, Cap.”

Quinn groans at the same time she wraps her lips around the fiery red tip. She tastes some precome that has leaked as she takes more of his dick in her mouth. His fingers curl in her wavy locks as she hollows her cheeks and sucks. She looks up at him as he throws his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck," Quinn breathes out. The reaction she gets out of him causes her to speed up her actions. Her hands are splayed over his thighs so she has something to hold on to. Not to mention that she just loves his thighs.

She manages to take all of him in her mouth without choking, and Quinn loves every second of it. He gnaws on his bottom lip and soft sounds rise from his throat. It's music to her ears as she takers him completely in her mouth and hums around him.

Quinn can't seem to get enough.

When her knees start screaming at her from being on the carpet for too long, she ignores it. What Quinn wants, Quinn gets. She's done this so many times that the pain doesn't get to her like it used to, but sometimes it .

She hollows out her cheeks and Quinn hums before he pulls her off his dick by her hair. She hums and looks up at her. His thumbs brush her probably swollen lips and she kisses the pads of his thumbs.

"Was that okay?" she questions like she always does after she sucks him off. Quinn raises his eyebrows at her and she grins. "Cap."

He nods and leans down to kiss her. His kiss is softer this time as he helps her back up so she's straddling his thighs. She runs her fingers through his styled hair and Quinn falls so he's lying on his back. His dick pokes her thigh and she wiggles her hips to tease him.

"These need to come off, pretty girl," he mumbles against her lips at the same time he taps the waistband of her panties. "I'm sure they're ruined at this point anyway."

She stands up to push the ruined fabric off her body. Quinn moves back so his head rests on the pillows. She presses her lips together in a line as she crawls back onto the mattress. She straddles his waist and leans over to press a long, deep kiss to his lips. Quinn hums and cups her jaw with his hands so she can't go anywhere.

Without breaking the kiss, she lifts her hips and rests the tip of his dick at her entrance. He slips right in because of how wet she is. A grin forms on her lips as she says, "Wanna ride you, Cap. Please."

"You don't need my permission, pretty girl," Quinn replies between hot kisses.

She hums as she lowers herself onto him. The familiar and welcomed stretch greets her. Quinn's hands land on her waist so she doesn't lose her balance. He bottoms out in her and she allows herself a few seconds to adjust before moving her hips.

The room is quickly filled with her soft moans as she rolls her hips. He helps her keep a steady pace that works for both of them. The kiss breaks but she doesn't go very far. Her forehead rests on his and her lips ghost his every time she moves.

Despite how they got here, she loves when she falls into bed with her boyfriend. No matter the reason, Quinn always focuses on both their pleasure. He makes sure that both of them feel good for however long they go.

Adding a little spice in the bedroom, like this captain thing that Quinn has going on right now, is one of her favorite things too. She's never against trying new things. She's not against this captain thing that he has going on.

Quinn starts moving his hips to match her pace. She groans and pushes herself up so she's sitting on his waist. She keeps her pace though. Her head is thrown back in pleasure and Quinn's hands roam her body.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes out. "You look so good riding my dick, pretty girl."

He moves one of his hands until he's rubbing her clit. She cries out his name and rests her hands on his torso. "Quinn," she gasps. "Oh my God." He stops. "Cap. Captain. Captain Quinn. Don't stop. Please." Those words pass her lips before her brain processes what she wants to say, but her end goal remained the same. Quinn continues rubbing her clit and she hums.

Her movements get frantic and inconsistent as she gets closer to her orgasm. Quinn wraps his arms around her waist and rolls them over so her head is on the pillow. He throws her legs over his shoulders and begins moving his hips.

The new angle has her legs shaking because his dick hits her favorite spot. She grabs his arms and cries out his name. "Oh my- fuck," she gasps. "Quinn, Quinn Quinn. Oh my God." He doesn't stop this time, but he slows down. "Cap, I'm so close. Please."

"Come for me, pretty girl," Quinn pants. "Want you to make a mess on my dick."

It's not very long after that when she comes. Her entire body clenches and she cries out Quinn's name so loud that their neighbors absolutely heard her. Her vision whitens and she's in cloud 9 from how hard she comes.

She's so out of it that she doesn't realize that Quinn pulls out and comes on her thighs. She has no idea that he cleans her up, only that he touches her sensitive core with a wet cloth. Her body melts into the mattress as she recovers.

When she comes to, Quinn is crawling back into bed. She musters up enough strength to turn her head and look at him.

"You okay?" he asks with a smile on his swollen lips. "Lost you for a moment."

She nods and rolls so she's curled up next to Quinn. "You really like when I call you Cap," she teases him. His cheeks turn red. "It's fine, Quinn. You don't need to get all flustered about it. If it's your thing, then it's my thing too. I wouldn't mind doing that again. It showed me a whole new side of you that I think I like."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Then we might have to do that again," Quinn tells her. "But please. For the love of everything, do not call me Cap or Captain around the team. It's going to take me a second to get over tonight, or get used to those words leaving your mouth."

She giggles and throws her leg over his waist so she's laying on his chest. "You say the word and I'll start using your nickname," she tells him. "Cap."

Quinn rolls his eyes, but she knows he loves it.

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lovecla · 2 months ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter six:

➴ chapter warnings: nsfw (masturbation (f. receiving), praise kink, fingering, dacryphilia, overstimulation, softdom quinn).

➴ word count: 4.6k

💌 from me to you: i’m sorry if this is terrible. wrote a line and then took a 30 minute break every time but hey! i’m trying my best!!! also thank u soooo much for 300+ followers i love all of u so much i hope u can feel the forehead kiss i’m giving u rn 😚 enjoy!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

THE ARENA was packed with people, most of them wearing the Canucks jersey.

It was game night, and Quinn made sure you and Victoria had tickets, with the view you had asked for— perfectly near the Canucks players.

“Brock looks amazing,” Victoria whispered in your ear, and you giggled. “No, like, seriously.”

You wanted to tell her that you weren’t looking at anyone but Quinn. He was standing there, wearing his jersey and throwing the puck around while skating with Miller by his side. He looked stressed, but you knew that he always got anxious before a game.

You debated a lot about coming or not, even if Quinn had been the one to invite you and even if you weren’t exactly known for telling him no. But lately, every time he texted or called, you felt your hands getting sweaty, your heart beating faster and your stomach filling itself up with butterflies.

Everything that you swore you would never let happen again.

“Do you think they’ll win?” Victoria asks you, shoving a handful of popcorn inside her mouth.

“They’re on a winning streak so maybe?” You shrug. “I’m terrible with sports.”

“Ain’t that right,” she laughs. “The only thing that makes hockey interesting are the hot players.”

“And the fights,” you add, munching on your Snickers bar. “I love when they take off their gloves and start punching each other.”

“To me that also categorizes as a hot thing.”

“Fair point.” You nod.

The game went by in a blink of an eye, which surprised you. You thought that because you weren’t really interested in hockey, it would suck to sit there for two hours and watch men skating around, throwing a puck here and there. But by the end of it, you were sweaty and tired from all the screams you let out whenever someone from the other team got in the Canucks way.

You and Victoria got out of your seats, chatting about the game and how happy you both were because the Canucks had won 4-2. Quinn had scored two goals and you were ready to engulf him in a bear hug.

“I think they’re changing but we can wait at the VIP section,” Victoria suggests, walking you through the place like she owned, which was one of the things you loved the most about her; her confidence. “I hope they have snacks and hot dogs.”

“It’s a VIP room, baby, not a restaurant,” you laugh, secretly hoping for the same.

“Either way, I hope there’s food there, I’m starving.”

“We just ate a bowl of popcorn, chocolate and a family sized bag of Ruffles.” You point out, patting your belly over your shirt. “Plus the Coke.”

“It was diet, so it doesn’t really count,” she taps her temple with her index finger. You laugh, doing the same. “Girl math.”

The VIP section was, in fact, full of food. And drinks. And players' wives, girlfriends, families and friends. You felt like a fish out of water but sucked it up either way, texting Quinn and telling him you were waiting for him.

It took a while for him to get there, thirty minutes to be precise, but you knew that the games’ after hours weren’t exactly a chocolate covered strawberry, and with Quinn being the captain, he had to answer dumb questions and talk to interviewers.

But then, Garland opened the door and started yelling about the winners being in the area, which made you laugh.

“Hey, there, cutie,” he smiled at you, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. “Missed that pretty face. Did you see me out there? Nailed it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile awkwardly. “Congratulations?”

“Boo, you didn’t even try to sound excited.” He childishly pouts, poking your cheeks.

“That’s because you’re not exciting, C,” Quinn’s raspy voice fills the air, and it’s almost palpable how all the attention in the room immediately goes to him. “Get your hands off her, come on.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” He kisses your cheek before leaving you alone, dragging Victoria with him.

You don’t even think about helping her because all you can see is Quinn standing in front of you, wearing a burgundy suit with his wet hair falling down his face. He looks so fucking good.

Cocking your head, you smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Cap,”

“Hey there, Mads,” he leans down, kissing your cheek lightly.

You think for a second before standing on the tip of your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hand find your waist instantly, like a magnet.

“Congrats on the win,” you whisper, not really wanting to let go. “You played really well.”

“Yeah?” He whispers back, pushing you away just so he could see your face. He smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, letting him go. Looking around the room, you notice that some people were staring at the two of you, and you blush. Right, you remind yourself, we’re not alone. “Hum. Wanna go eat something?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” he shrugs, looking around. “At home, though.”

“You’re inviting me over?” You chuckle, running your fingers through your hair.

“I am, yes.” He nods.

The little Madisons inside your brain start running around, pushing the danger button again and again while yelling “abort mission!” to each other, but you’re still human, and weak in the flesh.

“We can pick Bella up, if you want,” he offers, putting his hands inside his pockets.

“There’s no need to, she’s at my neighbor’s house,” you tell him. “She befriended Buttercup, Mrs. Fernandez cat, and now she asks me to let Bella stay there whenever I have to come home late.”

“Smart girl, isn’t she?” He checks the time on his watch, and makes a tsc noise with his mouth. “If we go now we’ll still catch my favorite pizza place open.”

“Greasy pizza for dinner? Isn’t that all models’ dream?” You joke, watching as he laughs softly.

“Quinn,” someone calls him, making him frown.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he sprints to the other side of the room, talking with another man wearing a suit.

You could see Victoria in the other side of the room between Garland and Boeser, looking like she was having the time of her life. She looked like the ice cream part of an ice cream sandwich, the thought making you cover your mouth with your hand to hide your laugh.

Quinn really didn’t take long, walking back to you and placing his hand on your lower back, like he always does.

The drive to his place was long and tiring, but you managed to make it faster with your remarks about the game. And Quinn listened to you, replying only when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t continue speaking.

Quinn’s house was still the same as the last time you’d been there, which felt like a lifetime ago. The three bedroom house was still only furnished with basic furniture, no pictures besides one with his family from when he got drafted.

“Can I shower while you order the food? I think I’m disgusting.”

“Not really. You still smell like a vanilla sundae to me, but sure.” He answers mindlessly while he taps on his phone, probably dialing the pizzaria’s number.

You shower in the same bathroom you showered the last time you’d been there and when you leave, you find Quinn’s clothes on the bed, also like last time. You smile, putting on his weirdly oversized shirt and boxers, leaving the shorts exactly where they were because you knew that they wouldn’t fit you anyway— and the shirt covered Quinn’s new boxers just fine.

You walked back to the living room, finding Quinn standing in the middle of it, with the TV on, watching the game from just hours ago.

“You played well,” you start, sitting on his couch with your legs crossed.

“Thank you,” he smiles, pointing at the unopened red wine bottle sitting on his coffee table. “Thought we should celebrate.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we should!” You jump out of the couch, headed to his kitchen cabinets looking for wine glasses. “Uh. I just remembered I don’t know where your things are.”

You open the cabinet either way, mentalizing that it shouldn’t be so hard finding two glasses of wine. Only to hear Quinn’s low chuckle, and his body behind yours— his right hand holding you down by your waist and the other one reaching for the glasses inside the cabinet on your left.

“I like to keep them out of my own reach,” he jokes, but you don’t even think about laughing.

Not when his crotch is perfectly aligned with your ass, his hand hot and steady on your waist, his hard chest brushing your back. It’d been brief, only enough time for him to reach the glasses and pick them up, but it’d been enough for you to feel all over the place again.

“Maddie?” He calls you, and you realize you have been standing there for a few seconds now.

“Oh, right,” you smile awkwardly and walk back towards the living room.

While Quinn poured both of you wine, you contemplated what you should do.

Well, fuck my childhood best friend isn’t a thing I should do, you remind your stupid brain, who sometimes liked to conjure images of what fucking Quinn Hughes would look like for you.

The risk of fucking everything up was high and the risk of falling in love with him was even higher. Quinn wasn’t a hard person to love, and with the way he treated you? The way he was ready to hand you anything on a silver plate? It would be like breathing underwater. Impossible.

Thankfully, your mood didn’t take too long to recover, and after an entire bottle of wine and three slices of pizza, you were back at it.

“The worst thing is,” you started, helping Quinn tidy the kitchen and putting away the dirty dishes. “One of the girls sitting next to us was extremely obsessed with you. I swear, she spent the entire two hours shouting your name even when you weren’t there.” You laugh, remember how Victoria threatened to smash her head against the glass.

“I get that a lot and I already told you, I don’t get the appeal,” he shrugs, placing the remaining pizza slices inside a container and tossing it inside his fridge. “Plus, I’m not interested in puck bunnies. They’re not really my thing.”

You gasp, making Quinn stop what he was doing to stare at you. “Does Quinn Hughes have a type?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You do!” You gently place the wine glasses inside of the dishwasher, closing it afterwards. “What is it?”

He laughs, closing the fridge door. “Madison, I don’t have a type.”

“Of course you do. So that’s why you’re one of the few hockey players I know that rarely makes it to dating gossip websites.”

“You’re being insane.”

You shush him with your hand.

“Let me think,” you tap your chin with your index finger, really putting your brain to work. “Okay. Maybe you’re like Jack who’s into musically inclined blondes?”

“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “And since when does Jack—”

“Okay, then maybe you’re like Luke and like frat girls?”

“That doesn’t even sound legal. I’m twenty five.”

“You’re twenty four, we’re not in October yet,” you remind him, trying to think of other types of girls. “What about redheads—”

He gently places his hands on each side of the counter, locking you in place. He cocks his head. “Why is it so important for you to know who I’m into or who I’m not?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you bite your tongue, contemplating what you were about to say. But fuck it, right? You could blame it all on the alcohol later, even if you weren’t even tipsy. “Perhaps fifteen year old me would like to know if she’d have a chance with you.”

He frowns. “Fifteen year old Madison? Not a fucking chance. You were a child.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes. “If you don’t think I’m pretty just say that.”

He rolls his eyes again, mimicking your action.

“I didn’t say that,” he clicks his tongue, blue eyes looking down at you, moving around your face. “Ask me what I think about twenty-two year old Madison.”

You gulp, tilting your head back and staring at him in the eye.

Danger, mayday, Madison, get the hell out of there.

“What,” you whisper, licking your lips mindlessly. “What do you think of twenty-two year old Madison?”

“I think you’re perfect,” he whispers back, stepping closer to you, forcing your head to tilt back again so you could maintain eye contact. “I still think you’re the sweetest person to ever walk on Earth, and I’m going insane over the fact that you’re this close to me and I can’t fucking move a finger.”

His statement shocks you, making your eyes double in size. “Quinn—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Ever since you got back here, ever since I saw you again after fucking seven years,” he steps away from you, running his fingers through his hair in a frustrated move. “You’re— God, you’re everything and you don’t even realize it.”

“I— Well,” you stutter, not even sure of what you could say. Hey, funny story, I want you to kiss me, like, right now.

“You wear my shirt like you’re proud to, you kiss my cheek every time we say goodbye to each other, you drive me absolutely crazy because I know you don’t care about yourself enough,” he calls you out, and you look somewhere else, embarrassed. “But the worst part is watching other guys lick the floor you walk on and not being able to do anything. The even worse part is looking at your lips whenever you wear those glittery lipstick things and not being allowed to kiss the hell out of you.”

“Quinn,” you breathe, leaving the kitchen like you couldn’t stand there anymore, pacing around his living room back and forth. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. We cannot—”

“We cannot what?” He walks towards you, only stopping when you’re toe to toe with each other. “Tell me you don’t want this, Maddie, and I’ll stop. I’ll pretend I never said anything and we’ll just be friends. But fuck,”

“We can’t do this,” you shake your head. “We’re friends. We cannot ruin everything just because we want to fuck each other.”

He smirks. “I never said anything about fucking.”

You feel your cheeks getting warm, and you bite your lips, hiding a smile.

“This is a bad idea. You know that, right?” You whisper, placing your hands on his chest. “Like, a really bad idea.”

“We’re both grown and it seems that we both know what we want,” he mumbles back, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and holding your chin up. “Do you want this, Maddie?”

Realistically speaking, you’ve been wanting this ever since you realized you could like Quinn as something more than just your best friend. You’ve been wanting this ever since you realized that no one would ever treat you as good as Quinn did. You’ve been wanting this ever since you saw him again for the first time in seven years, looking gorgeous and extremely, dangerously hot.

You do want this, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else. But things could get complicated and… losing Quinn wasn’t something you were interested in doing.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper, watching as his chest goes up and down beneath your palms. “I can’t lose you. If this goes wrong, then, then—”

“Madison,” he kisses your forehead, interrupting you. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” you confess. It was true, and even if you lied, Quinn knew you like the back of his hand.

Or at least he used to.

You weren’t prepared for how his lips would feel against yours. Or how he’d place his hands on your lower back. Or how his kiss would feel urgent and needy, making you whimper inside his mouth. Quinn kissed you like he was hungry for something only you could give him, making your knees weak and your breath quicken, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft under your touch.

You ran your hands through his hair, moaning with pleasure because you had finally gotten what you wanted. And just like your predictions, his hair felt soft, with you gently running your hands through his scalp.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air and resting your forehead against his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumble, inhaling his sandalwood scent. “We’re friends, Quinn.”

“I know. And I still want you just the same,” he grips on your waist, hard. You were sure that it would leave a mark on your skin and just the thought of it made you go crazy. “And there’s no going back now, baby.”

The pet name slipped past his lips, the lips you’d kissed so bruisingly just a few seconds ago, making you whimper involuntarily. The wetness between your thighs was just a tiny hint of how much you actually wanted him.

“Let me help you out, hm?” He kisses your lips again, his stubble scratching your face lightly, making you remember where you were, what you were doing and with whom. “Let me make you feel good, Maddie.”

“Please,” You plead, trying to even your own voice. You sounded needy and helpless, but you had too many things going on inside your head at the same time for you to actually start acting like yourself again.

He only hums in response, showering your face with kisses while he guides you to his huge, brown couch. He sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

“If you want me to stop, Maddie, just tell me, and I will,” seriously, he reminds you, kissing the tip of your finger. “I don’t care how much I’m enjoying what we’re doing, if you want me to stop, you say so.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, nodding with your head.

He mimics your action and moves on with his hands, removing your— his— boxers, slowly pulling them down, until they meet the floor with a soft thud. Then he helps you remove your legs from the holes, the right first and then the left, his big, warm hands on your thighs making you feel wetter.

He pats the spot between his legs, silently asking you to sit there, with your back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

He gives you goosebumps as he slowly trails a path down your neck with his lips, making a wet sound whenever his mouth touches your burning skin. His hands keep going up and down your thighs, slowly lifting your— again, his— shirt to expose half of your belly and your most intimate part for him.

“Place your heels on the edge of the couch, pretty.”

You couldn’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment as you did what he said, sliding your feet apart until your legs were spread wide apart. Sex had always been something boring to you and you preferred to do anything else other than let a guy fuck you.

But with Quinn things were already so different. You felt close to him, not only because you were literally on his arms, sitting between his legs, no. Truth be told, Quinn already owned your heart, and getting him to touch you like this was heavenly, but also extremely embarrassing.

You moan as his right index finger runs up and down through your slit, barely touching your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his whispers, voice filled with desire, making you shiver inside his arms. “Who got you so worked up?”

“You,” you breathe. “You did, Quinn.”

“Mhm, that’s right, aren’t you just so sweet, baby?” He chuckles, inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, only to have his left hand holding them apart. “Do you think you’re sweet all over?”

“Quinn.”

He thrusts his finger inside you, finding your spot almost immediately, the wet sound of sex helping the blush on your face grow. Then, after teasing you for a while, he removes himself from you, bringing his index to his mouth, licking the wetness away.

Your face was burning, you wanted to run away and never come back, and it was even worse when you caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You are,” he whispers, tightening the hold on your thigh and inserting his finger in your hole again, only to take it out after a while. “See it for yourself.”

You were going to die. That was it. Here lies Madison Carter, the girl who thought she could handle Quinn Hughes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he instructs, his raspy tone reaching your ears and making your stomach warm. You slowly part your lips, wrapping them around Quinn’s finger, tasting yourself for the first time in your life. And maybe it was just the power of his words inside your mind, or maybe you were too horny to think correctly but if you closed your eyes and searched inside of your taste buds for a minute, you’d actually see that— it was, indeed, sweet. “Good job, baby.”

You whimper around his finger. Quinn slips two fingers inside your pussy, with little to no resistance with how wet you were. His fingers start up a quick finger fucking that echoes wetly in the living room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cheeks wet with tears you didn’t even know you’d shed.

He’s fast, his palm touching your swollen, needy clit every time he thrusted his fingers into your hole, making you moan loudly, not even caring about the late hours. Your left hand grabs Quinn’s left arm, probably hurting him with how strongly you were holding him but you didn’t care—

You had always been easily overwhelmed and with how much Quinn had teased you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Quinn, I— fuck,” your words get interrupted when you feel a third finger trying to get past your tight entrance, a loud moan coming out of your mouth when it succeeds. The stretch making your pussy hurt so freaking good, tears decorating your face like paintings in museums.

Quinn curls his fingers inside of you, making you slightly lift your hips, surprised with how much pleasure he could give you with just three fingers.

“I’m close, oh my god, Quinn, I’m—” overwhelmed with thoughts of QuinnQuinnQuinn, you sit back on the couch, once again trying to close your legs, and, once again, being unsuccessful.

“You can take it, baby, come on, give me what I want.” He shamelessly opens your legs more, thumb sliding left to right on your clit, making you gasp and whimper incoherent words, babbling nonsense that not even the smartest people in the world could comprehend.

When you came, it was like all of your worries went away, the weight in your shoulder ten, a thousand times lighter. You were crying and you probably looked like a mess, but thinking that Quinn’s responsible for getting you like this only makes you happier.

He didn’t stop fingering you, though, overstimulating your clit until the very last minute; until he had you crying loudly and screaming in his arms.

“Sh, baby, you can take it,” he kisses your wet cheek, slowly stopping his fingers. “Tell me, baby, you can take it.”

You hiccup, trying to hide yourself inside his arms.

“Say it, sweets, and I’ll let you go.”

“I— I can take it.” You whisper, voice hoarse and tired.

“Good girl,” he removes his fingers from your pussy, promptly sliding them inside your mouth, again. You didn’t need instructions this time, you just did what you knew he wanted you to, licking his fingers clean until there was nothing but your saliva on them. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts your head to the side, kissing your lips and brushing his tongue against his.

“How are you feeling, love?” He asks after he breaks the kiss, calmly covering you with your shirt again, wiping your tears away with his left hand.

Love.

“Like I’m made of cotton candy,” you smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder. You can feel his body moving as he softly laughs, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sleep here tonight,” he offers, and kisses your cheek again. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Well, I don’t,” you chuckle, remembering that you had to be up early in the morning. “Besides, I have my daughter waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, nodding. “Fair point. Then let me take you home?”

“Yeah,” you agree, only to snuggle closer to his body. “Let’s go.”

You end up napping for about thirty minutes before he wakes you up and hands you another change of clothes, helping you change before he wraps his jacket around you and places a Canucks beanie on your head.

“You can never be warm enough.” He says before opening the door, letting you leave first.

On your way home, inside the warmth of his car, you thought about what this would mean to your friendship. Friends with benefits sounded childish, icky, and not something you were looking forward to. And you weren’t lying to Conor when you told him that you weren’t looking for someone.

Even if that someone was Quinn.

“I can hear you thinking.” He jokes, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I just— how do we act now?” You finally say, turning your head to the side and watching his side profile.

“You told Conor you aren’t looking for anyone right now.”

“I did.”

“Well,” he starts. “I’m not saying this because I want you to make a decision or anything like that. But,” he sighs. “I’m not the type of guy who will make arrangements to fuck you during the weekends and move on with my life on the week days.”

You frown. “I don't want that…”

He chuckles. “I know you don’t, baby.”

“But I don’t want a relationship now either. I don’t think I’m… ready.”

This wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have inside a moving car, but oh well. It was too late now. Besides that, you trusted Quinn and you wanted things to be as clear as water between the two of you.

“We don’t have to date,” he adds before parking in front of your building, turning the car off. “What I meant is that I don’t share. If you think we’re better off as friends, then I’ll respect that.”

You blink slowly, tired.

“I don’t… I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you you ruined the dating experience for me,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, smelling his cologne on the jacket you were wearing. “I’ve only had two boyfriends before you. And honestly, I’m not interested in sharing either.”

“We can take it slow then, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead, poking your cheek after. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You wanted to tell him that you had been the one waiting all these years, even if unconsciously. But you had already embarrassed yourself enough for the week, so you just gave him the tiniest, shyest peck on his lips and smiled, leaving the car after wishing him a good night.

Later, while you cuddled Bella and talked with her about your day— leaving the naughty parts aside, of course—, you let yourself dream about what a relationship with Quinn would mean.

Even if you knew that if he really got to know you’d become, he would get tired of you in a second.

“One day at a time, right, baby?” You kissed Bella’s head, letting your exhaustion win.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

#quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl x reader #nhl players #hockey #TYPA #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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swissboyhisch · 5 months ago

Text

The Littlest Devil

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: The team were excited to meet baby Hughes. But you got to surprise the team when they come to visit for the first time.

Word Count: 574

Warnings: Babys and fluff

A/N: Shout out to one of my friends on here! My darling mutual asked for Dad!Jack and here it is.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

With the Devils’ season finished it meant your boyfriend could spend time at home with you and your newborn daughter. The little girl was 2 weeks old, and you had spent the weeks tucked in bed with your mother-in-law waiting on you, hand and foot. You were allowed to leave the bed. If it wasn’t Ellen, it was one of the other girlfriends or wives you were close with from the team. They had supported you well while Jack had been finishing the rest of the season.

“Are you sure you want the team to come over?” Jack asked for the millionth time as you got dressed in something other than pyjamas. “We can always reschedule if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You rolled your eyes at Jack’s protectiveness but wasn’t surprised. He was holding your baby girl against his bare chest as you changed. He swayed side to side, pressing a kiss to her head. The two of you stand and admire your baby when you finish getting dressed. She looked so much like you but with Jack’s eyes and a hint of curls on her head. Just like her daddy.

“I want to see my niece,” a voice spoke up coming up the stairs. Luke poked his head in and lit up seeing Jack hold his niece. He immediately held out his arms as he closed in on Jack. “Give her here.”

Jack relented after Luke didn’t take no for an answer. He passed Luke the bub before he moved to hug you once more. The man looked into the mirror and admired you, swaying gently so as to not hurt you.

“I’m out,” Luke chuckles when the two of you hug, taking the bub downstairs to leave you alone for a moment.

The pair of you took a moment to yourself. Jack smiles and twirls you slowly to admire the outfit. Seeing you thrive as a mother was making him love you so much more. The quiet moment between you was broken by the doorbell. You could hear the bell ring through the house.

“Some of your guests are here,” Ellen smiles as she spies you two coming down the stairs.

Jack was so excited to introduce his gorgeous girl to his favourite people in the world. Luke made sure to stay hidden from the team so as to not ruin you and Jack’s moment. Luke passed your little girl back to Jack before going into the lounge room first where the team was gathered. You and your little family took a moment before stepping into the view.

“Looking hot mama,” Nico grinned, going to hug you.

“Thanks Cap,” You smile, accepting the hug.

Nico turned to his best friend and awed when he saw your baby up close. She was the perfect mix of the two of you if you ask him. The cute little New Jersey Devils jumpsuit was the perfect outfit to introduce her to the team.

Jack grinned, passing the babe to Nico, the guy who took him under his wing when he was first drafted, “It’s only fair the captain holds her first.”

“What’s her name? You didn’t tell us,” Dawson asks from his spot on the couch.

“Nicola,” Jack reveals with a big grin, “Nicola Ellen Hughes. Named after my best friend who took me under his wing when I was drafted first to New Jersey just like him.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @linneasblog

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babydollmarauders · 11 months ago

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MARSHMALLOW — JOHN MARINO

john marino x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n and her boyfriend get up to no good at the Devils christmas party

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, alcohol, cussing, extreme domination, heavy degradation, oral (m receiving), p in v (unprotected), i think that’s all? (3.6k words)

notes: welcome to day 4 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this is quite possibly the most degrading smut i’ve written so far, so if you ignore the warnings and go ahead and read it anyways, don’t come crying to me if you didn’t like it <3

“oh c’mon Johnny!”

Jack’s grating voice floats over the rest of the noise that bounces throughout the captain’s apartment, his hands gripping John’s shoulders as he shakes the boy from behind.

“you don’t wanna take a body shot off your smokin’ girlfriend?”

John’s head whips around to look at his teammate, a scowl resting on his face, “don’t call my girlfriend smokin’.”

“is she not?” Jack laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at the older boy.

“of course she is,” John states, shrugging Jack’s hands off his shoulders, “but you don’t get to think so.”

i roll my eyes at my boyfriend’s possessive nature, slinking closer to his figure, which stands besides the empty kitchen island.

“alright, alright,” Jack caves, “but if you won’t take the shot, someone else will.”

i can practically see the gears turning in John’s head, his eyes flickering between me and Jack.

“no, they will not.” i chime in. my hands come to rest on the defenseman’s chest, slowly traveling up to his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

“nobody else’s lips or tongue are coming anywhere near my body, baby.” i assure him, pulling his head down until his lips are mere inches from mine. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay. but you’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

“damn right, i am.” John gruffs, his eyes darkening as he pulls away. he pats the empty counter. “hop up, beautiful.”

a sultry grin pulls at my lips, hastily following his orders and pulling myself up onto the counter.

the kitchen full of hockey players cheer, any wives and girlfriends whistling as i pull my tank top off, leaving me in only a dark red bralette.

John’s hand connects lightly with my collarbone, gingerly pushing me backwards until the heated skin of my back makes contact with the cold marble countertop.

a shiver rolls down my spine, one side of his lips quirking up into a smirk. he takes hold of the ziploc bag of crushed peppermint candy cane from the counter, sprinkling a small bit on my sternum between my breasts.

Jack hands me a mini marshmallow from the bag in his hands, whilst Dawson hands his friend a shot glass of luke-warm cocoa with peppermint vodka.

“THREE!” the crowded kitchen counts down and i stick my tongue out, placing the mini marshmallow near the tip of my tongue.

“TWO!” John readies, shaking out any nerves as he prepares to down the muddy brown liquid.

“ONE!” i blink up at my boyfriend.

“GO!”

John clinks the shot glass against the counter before throwing the cocoa back into his mouth in one big gulp. his head dips down, his wet tongue dragging up my cleavage, collecting the crushed candy cane.

a shaky breath passes my lips, resisting the urge to throw my head back in pleasure at the feeling of his tongue and hot breath against my skin.

his face pops into my view as his tongue presses against mine prior to capturing it between his lips, sucking the marshmallow off of my tongue.

my eyelids flutter closed, eyes rolling back in my head. he releases my tongue, hastily transforming the movement into a deep kiss, his lips locking with mine before he pulls away.

Jack and Dawson shout, shaking their friend around as he smiles goofily.

“fuck yeah, Johnny!”

John rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his friends off. he steps back over to the counter while i sit back up, my legs hanging over the edge of the counter.

his hands wrap around my hips, lifting me off the surface and placing my feet back on the ground. he swiftly grabs my discarded tank top off the counter, shoving it into his back pocket as i press my chest to his.

“Johnny.” i breathe out to grasp his attention. he looks back down at me, his sight ripping away from Jack to find me gazing up at him.

my eyes are dark, pupils blown and breathing heavy as i sink my teeth into my bottom lip.

“baby,” he drags out, voice dropping in warning.

“that was so hot.” i whisper, lust dripping from my words as my hips push against him, his semi-hard bulge pressing against my pelvis; letting me note that the experience was just as sexy for him as it was for me.

“we’re at Nico’s.” he reminds me quietly, his lips grazing my ear.

“he won’t notice.” i state, my head nodding over to where his captain stands, immersed in conversation with Timo.

John scans the kitchen, finding everyone minding their own business, talking amongst themselves and paying no attention to us.

“fuck.” he curses, his hand grasping my own. he yanks my arm, pulling me out of the kitchen, down the hall to Nico’s guest room.

he shoves me into the room, slamming the door behind him. he steps closer, fingers digging into my waist as he spins us around, my back harshly meeting the door. his lips crash against mine, my hands holding onto his shoulders, straining on my tiptoes in order for my lips to meet his.

his tongue swipes across the seam of my lips, one hand sliding down to squeeze my ass, pulling at one cheek and making me gasp. he takes the chance to shove his tongue past my lips, tangling with mine while he uses his grip on my ass to pull me closer, his quickly hardening erection brushing against my heat.

i can feel my dampening panties stick to my core, making me let out a whine at the feeling.

John rips away, red swollen lips brushing against mine. he walks backwards, pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it onto the floor.

i follow after him until he stops near the end of the bed, hooking my fingers into the front of his jeans.

“on your knees, sweetheart.” he demands, taking pleasure in the way i immediately drop down in front of him.

his eyes darken, biting his bottom lip as he stares down at me. his fingers drop down to the button of his jeans, slipping the metal through the hole and unzipping before he pulls them down, his boxer briefs falling down with them.

his cock springs free, nearly slapping against his abdomen, tip red and angry, precum beading at the slit.

my thighs clench together, my mouth salivating at the sight.

“look at you,” he tsk’s, shaking his head. “such a fucking whore, clenching your thighs together.”

his hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back to look into his eyes and drawing a gasp from my lips.

“so horny, just from a fucking body shot.” he gruffs, “bet you’re fucking soaking. aren’t you?”

i mewl, nodding my head shortly.

“that’s what i thought.” he huffs in disapproval. “such a slut, i bet you would get worked up like this if anyone did that shot, wouldn’t you?”

he gives me no chance to answer before he speaks again.

“hmm? you’d get this worked up if fucking Nate did that shot, wouldn’t you?” he yanks at my hair again, my jaw falling open as my eyes roll back, shaking my head. “words, slut.”

“no.” i whimper, “no, no. just you. only you, Johnny.”

he hums in approval, his grip loosening in order to pet my fallen hair out of my face sweetly.

“yeah? prove it.” he croons, “suck my cock.”

my hand wraps around the base of his length, squeezing, and i begin to pump him slowly. my lips fall back open, my tongue lolling out as i lick up the underside of his cock, tracing the bulging vein that rests there.

when i get to his tip, he shoves my head down lightly, urging me to take him in.

“shit.” he curses as i slide him into my mouth, my warm tongue flattening on the underside of him as i relax my throat, bobbing my head. my hand stays wrapped around him, jerking what i can’t fit.

with each bob, his tip hits the back of my throat, coaxing a gag out of me amidst his moans.

the sound of christmas music and loud conversations still float through the crack under the locked door, covering our noise from the world outside of this room.

i peer up through my lashes, finding his chin tilted down, his eyes set on me. his jaw is slack, and i run my free hand over the ridges on his abs, feeling them tense under my fingertips.

a mix of saliva and precum drools from my lips, providing lubrication for his cock to slip farther with each head bob.

i pull off of him with a pop, my tongue darting out to lick his tip before my lips close around it, sucking gently while my tongue swirls.

his gasp is like music to my ears, his grasp on my hair tightening, pulling a moan from my throat. the vibrations travel up his cock, making it twitch, and he lets out a loud groan.

his hand slides around to cup my cheek, forcing me to look up at him again as my hair falls to frame my face.

“you think you can take it all, baby?” my lips leave his tip, my hand still jerking him, and i nod. his thumb traces my bottom lip as he speaks again. “yeah? you think you can be a good girl for me?”

i nod again and he takes my consent. his hand goes back to holding my hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he pushes my head further down, and i relax my throat, letting him thrust in until my nose touches his pubic bone.

i focus on breathing through my nose as he stills, basking in the feeling, but the moment quickly falls when i begin to gag. he uses his grip on my hair to pull me off of him, watching me as tears roll down my cheeks.

“again.” i whisper, my voice hoarse from the abuse of my throat.

“you sure?” his eyes are soft, but as i nod, they darken once more. he guides himself back into my mouth, making quick work of thrusting this time. rather than stilling, he begins to fuck my face.

moans pour from his lips, his head falling back in pleasure.

“you’re so good.” he hisses. “just a cock hungry little whore for me, aren’t you?”

i hum in agreement around his cock and his hips begin to stutter, his guiding of my head quickly stopping as he pulls me off of him for the last time.

i look up at him and his hands lock at the nape of my neck, tugging me up into a bruising kiss.

my body falls against his, my lips parting, and he slips his tongue in, tangling it with mine. my hands explore his body, smoothing along his bare chest and up to his shoulders.

“tell me what you want.” he speaks against my lips, his tongue flicking across them. “you want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?

“you want me to use you for my pleasure; fuck you dumb until all you can scream is my name.”

his words go straight to my core, only making me wetter. a whimper resonates from my throat, a smirk growing on his lips at the sound.

“i need you to say yes, baby.” he lays kisses up my throat, leaving wet marks in his wake, until he reaches my ear. his lips ghost my outer ear as he whispers. “i need to know you want it before i treat you like the dumb, drippy little cock whore that you are.”

a shaky breath passes my split lips, my jaw relaxed as he continues his attack against my neck.

“i want it.” i tremble at his touch; his hands trailing up my hot skin. “i want it so bad, John.”

he pulls away, leaving goosebumps littering my body at the loss of his touch.

“strip for me.”

John takes a seat on the bed, staring at me with watchful eyes, and i’m suddenly insecure under his gaze.

my hands shake as i pull my bralette over my head, my pebbled nipples hitting the cold air and causing chills to wrack my body.

his eyes lock on my breasts for a moment before dragging down my body, watching as i pull my skirt down my body, my panties being dragged down with it.

his hand reaches out to pull me toward him, between his spread legs, and my hands thread into the hair at the nape of his neck.

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my stomach. he trails up my body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. his lips follow a path between my breasts, agonizingly slow until he reaches my neck.

he nips at my skin, sucking and dragging his tongue over the spot before he pulls away, blowing cool air against the spot and making me squirm in his grip.

he stands, twisting me in his arms before spinning us around so my knees hit the edge of the mattress. he gives me a shove, bending me over the bed, and i brace myself on my forearms, my ass brushing against his dick.

“you’re glistening for me.” he remarks.

i jolt as his fingers swipe through my slick folds, spreading my wetness around my cunt, and he chuckles lowly when i cry out as he thrusts a thick digit into me suddenly.

“Johnny.” i sob out, rolling my hips down against his hand.

“god, you’re so fucking needy.” he grunts, pulling his hand away and making me groan in want. “i’m gonna ruin you.”

his hand closes around the front of my throat, his other wrapping around the base of his cock, guiding it through my moisture. my back arches when his tip hits against my swollen clit, a broken whimper dropping from my lips when he shoves into me.

“shhh, be a good girl and take this dick.” his grip on my throat tightens, his other hand grasping my waist.

he uses his touch to anchor himself as he pounds into me, his tip hitting repeatedly against my g-spot.

he swiftly hooks an arm around my leg, bringing it up to kneel on the bed in order to open my pussy even further for him.

tears already prick my eyes but this new angle brings a high pitched moan from my lips, my face falling forward and hair dropping down. my arms feel weak, shaking underneath me.

“this pussy was made for me. made for me to use; to get myself off in.” John’s voice is tight and strained, his hips slapping against my ass as he speaks. “say it.”

“i-it-” i stutter, struggling to speak over the sounds of his cock thrusting into my wetness.

“i-i-i-” he mocks me. his hand from my throat drops down to roughly squeeze my breast, “have i fucked you dumb already?”

“it was made for you.” i squeak out, back arching again as he twists and pinches at my nipple, “my pussy is yours to use.”

he drops down, his sweaty chest pressing against my back, his lips pressing against the nape of my neck before he brings them to my ear.

“good girl.”

he stands back to his full height, hands on my waist, using his grip to push me forward and pull me back onto his dick, moving me with his thrusts; manhandling me like his own personal sex doll.

“touch yourself.” he orders, “rub your clit like the needy little whore that you are.”

my hand dips down between my legs, making my upper half press into the mattress, and my middle finger slowly begins to rub the puffy bundle of nerves.

John gives my ass a harsh smack, coaxing a scream to bubble up my throat, and he hastily leans forward, shoving his fingers in my mouth.

“unless your screaming my name, you shut your damn mouth. do you wanna get caught?” he hisses.

“i- no- i-” i babble around his fingers, and he shoves them slightly deeper against my tongue.

“jesus, i really have fucked you dumb.” he spits, “i said to shut your mouth, do you understand?”

i nod my head as best as i can with it pressed into the mattress.

“good.” his thrusts speed up, urging my finger on my clit to rub faster, and i can feel a familiar pit forming in my lower stomach.

repeated murmurs of his name frantically form in my mouth around his fingers, my eyes rolling back and my body twitching as i clench around him.

“don’t come.” he demands, and i whimper as i try and hold back. “i’m close. don’t you dare fucking come.”

the pressure builds, tears falling from my eyes and onto the bed sheets as i try and hold back my release.

he fucks into me rapidly, losing his rhythm as his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside of me.

“come.” his one word spurs me to finally let go, my toes curling against the carpeted floor and my breath hitching in my throat as i finally release on his cock.

his cum spurts out in ropes, covering my insides and making further squelches as he fucks me through our orgasms. his fingers dig into my waist, surely leaving bruises, and a grunt leaves his clenched jaw.

he thrusts a few more times before pulling out, the empty feeling making me whine.

his hands begin slowly caressing up and down my back in comforting lines.

“hey.” he coos, using his strength to lift my frail figure off the bed. my legs wobble as i stand and he spins me around to face him.

his eyes are soft, filled with love and the familiar sense of home that i’m used to.

“are you okay, baby?” his hand cups my cheek, his thumb dragging to wipe the drool from around my mouth. i hum, nodding my head softly. “did i hurt you?”

i shake my head and he shakes his in return.

“i need words, beautiful. reassurance.” his voice is gentle, and he presses a light kiss to my forehead.

“you didn’t hurt me, Johnny. i’m okay.” i assure him and a small smile plays at his lips.

“how are you feeling?”

“good,” i start before adding, “sticky.”

he laughs and a grin spreads across my face at the melodic sound.

“let’s clean you up, and then you can decide if you wanna go home or go back out to the party.”

he guides me to the en-suite bathroom, gathering a few cottonelle wipes from the pack on the back of the toilet, and i bend over the counter, wiping the mascara smudges from around my eyes as he cleans me up from behind.

“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers, my still bare ass pressing against him as he leans forward to drop kisses along the tops of my shoulders. “i love you. you know that, right?”

i nod, peering back at him with puckered lips. he locks his lips with mine, twisting my body around mid-kiss in order to wrap his arms around my waist, locking them at the small of my back.

“i love you too, John.” i utter against his lips and he pulls away to give me a wide smile. i scrunch my nose at him, his head dropping back down to rub his nose against mine.

“let’s get dressed.” i nod, leading the way back to the bedroom, and we get redressed, John finally returning my tank top from earlier in the night.

“do you wanna go home?” he asks me once we’re fully clothed.

“no.” i shake my head, my hand resting on the wrist of his hand which cups my cheek. “let’s go back out and celebrate the holidays with our friends.”

“and then, when we finally do get home, we can take a bath.” i add, making him nod.

“whatever you want, love.”

his hand slips down to hold mine as he unlocks the bedroom door, opening it up and slipping back out into the still wild party.

“ayo! there you are!” Jack cheers as we find him in the living room, wrapping an arm around John’s shoulders. “was beginning to think you guys left with an irish goodbye to go home and fuck.”

John chuckles with Jack, shaking his head.

“nah, we’ve been around.” he assures his shorter teammate.

he slings his arm around my shoulders, my hand still holding his, and i peek over to look at Nico, who stands quietly next to Dawson, who speaks a mile a minute in his captains ear.

Nico finds my gaze, raising his eyebrows and smirking over the top of his beer bottle. my face flushes in embarrassment and fear that he knew what happened in his guest bedroom, but then his eyes dart to the side towards Dawson and i realize he’s giving me a ‘get a load of this guy’ look.

i giggle, burying myself further into John’s side, who gazes down at me mid-conversation and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“so, y/n,” Luke sidles up next to me, a spiked eggnog in his hand as he escapes the never ending flow of words that come from his older brothers mouth. “have fun?”

my head whips over to look at the young defenseman, a smirk resting on his lips. i tell myself that he’s just making conversation, asking if i’m having fun at the party, but then his eyes flicker between me and the hallway that houses the doors to the bedrooms and blood rushes to my cheeks.

fuck.

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino blurb #john marino fic #john marino smut #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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obaex · 6 months ago

Text

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 2)

summary: with the stakes of your relationship on the line, can rafe pull off the impossible to win you back?

word count: 6k 🫣

a/n: i love you all for the love on this lil' series!! ♡ toxic hockey rafe has me in a chokehold, so i promise this will not be the last you see of him!! apologies in advance, you will basically be attending a full hockey game here, i tried my best to explain all the lingo!

(part one)

The arena was packed even though you were there early, arriving alone because the other girlfriends and wives were always late, which simply wasn't in your DNA.

Your dad was a coach growing up, so you spent countless hours in empty rinks, arenas and stands; his rule for games was that you were in your seat early enough to see the starting lineup and the national anthem, no exceptions. Truth be told you liked being there when the lights went down, when the music amped up, you loved the anticipation of a new game.

You didn't mind sitting in the cold seat, hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate that you got from the same concession stand every time. Hockey players were notoriously superstitious and by extension now you were too; just like they had their pregame rituals, so did you: same parking spot in the VIP lot, same hot chocolate from the same concession stand, same seat in section 106. You were in the lower bowl of the arena, a few rows back from the ice, facing the bench, nearly eye-level with the team.

You let your mind wander and tried not to think about Rafe but it was impossible, this place was Rafe to you; from the feeling of the cold air on your cheeks and fingers, to the damp and crisp smell of the ice and the sounds of the fans and ambient pregame music, all of it was a part of your love story, all of it was him. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt like you thought it would, rather it felt like coming home after a semester at college, foreign but familiar.

You swiped at your phone, a nervous tick, even though you knew there wouldn't be anything there, which was a good thing, Rafe needed to be focused on the game, so you slid your phone into the cupholder next to you and resorted to tapping your heeled foot nervously.

The seats around you filled quickly and sure enough the other girlfriends and wives arrived just as the lights were dimming, offering cheek kisses and sympathetic hugs, well aware of your situation. Your best friend Morgan slid in next to you, pulling you into her side.

"It's selfish, but I'm glad you're here" she said, loud enough to be heard over the music and the announcer as her brown eyes traced your face sympathetically.

"I'm fine" you lied with a forced smile. Totally fine you thought. Not the love of my life who broke my heart then skated over it trying to win me back in the middle of the semifinals.

You decided to keep all of that to yourself, because truthfully it was ridiculous. It was juvenile. And it was never going to happen. And you didn't want it to happen anyway, you reassured yourself. Right?

You shook your head as you turned your attention to the starting lineup as Rafe's name boomed over the loudspeaker, the cheering noticeably louder from the crowd. He was a fan favorite, beloved for his fast and aggressive style of play. He wasn't afraid to two-hand someone when the referee wasn't looking, to stand up for his team, to battle for the puck. He was chippy, gritty, and he's on the first line tonight you thought to yourself, a spot reserved for the very best players, putting them in the best scoring position. But surely that's not in any way related to our deal... you mused.

You stood on your tiptoes to see him over the crowd in front of you. He was standing at center ice under the spotlight, his helmet tucked under his arm as he shuffled side to side on his skates, face unsmiling, focused as he looked between his feet and the empty ice in front of him. Your heart leapt uncontrollably at the sight of him; God he's beautiful you thought as your body hummed in recognition and longing, completely betraying you.

The tension and animosity in the arena were thick. You had faced the opposing team a few times in the regular season and it did not end well.

As in, you'd lost every time.

As in, Rafe left the last game with a five-minute major penalty and a black eye after an all-out brawl.

Now the fans were itching for a rematch and you were simply hoping for everyone to leave in one piece. That was the difference between being a fan and being someone who cared deeply for the boys on the ice, it wasn't a spectacle to you anymore. You watched as Rafe's wingers Nick and Andrew stood beside him, followed by two defensemen and your goalie as the national anthem wrapped up.

Everyone took their seats as the lights came back on and the music came on again too, urging the fans around you to cheer, and for you to resume the incessant tapping of your foot as you leaned forward in your seat, laser focused on the guys lining up for the faceoff.

"Girl, you good?" Morgan asked, taking in your nervous energy.

"Hmm?" you responded distractedly, barely glancing at her. "Yeah, yeah m'fine" you said.

You were always more into the game than the other girls, but that didn't account for the clear tension and anxiety rolling off of you in waves, nor the way you were immaculately dressed, which didn't go unnoticed either.

Rafe skated to center ice, equally sized with the opponent at faceoff as the referee dropped the puck. It had barely clattered to the ice before Rafe had gained possession, shouldering his opponent out of the way and barreling towards the offensive zone with a burst of energy like a gunshot that had the crowd almost immediately back on their feet, pulling you along with them.

"OK, I'm sorry, what is happening here?" Morgan said as she watched him.

He was a man possessed, head down, focused, ignoring his teammates as they called for the puck to set up a play, like he was trying to do it all himself. Like he was trying to score. He flipped the puck towards the goalie, who blocked it and possession shifted as he skated backwards on defense, your heart settling in your chest.

Rafe always played with intensity, but with the way he was playing now, he wouldn't make it through the first period. You thought there would be a reprieve on defense, but he was diving for the puck, playing to steal rather than defending his zone. He looked like a maniac.

Until it worked.

The crowd was back on their feet as he and Nick had a breakaway two-on-one, both of them racing towards the net together with only one defender standing between them and the goalie, the rest of their teammates striding to catch up with them. Nick called for the puck, slapping his stick on the ice, but Rafe deked the defender, faking him out before approaching the goalie and tipping the puck into the small pocket over his shoulder, swishing it effortlessly into the net.

The arena erupted as the goal horn blared and you found yourself jumping up and down, overcome with excitement and emotion. You could physically feel your heart beating. This is totally normal you thought. It's totally fine to score a goal in the first two minutes of the game, on his first shift, against the toughest team in the league.

You watched players pile on him in celebration before they all skated back to the bench, bumping fists with their team before taking a seat on the bench. Your eyes were glued to him, and his were on the jumbotron above center ice, watching his own replay before the coach approached him, grasping his shoulder angrily, and you could imagine why. He had been reckless, he had been lucky. Rafe nodded, but ultimately shook him off and refocused on the resumed play. Players zoomed in front of you and your eyes zipped to follow them before you glanced ever so briefly back at Rafe, who was unmistakably looking at you and smiling.

You swallowed to hide the emotions on your face, not giving him a single inch as you focused on the play.

You loved watching hockey, but it felt different when Rafe was on the ice, like he was a magnet, the only thing you could focus on, and his next shift was no different. He was playing like a madman and within seconds you could hear the coach shouting. Rafe turned up emptyhanded this time and the coach was visibly angry as Rafe skated to the bench, going so far as to yell back at him, which had you holding your breath; you had never seen him do that before.

Nick reached for Rafe's shoulder to calm him down and then they started bickering back and forth. Your attention was now split between the two of them and the action on the ice when you saw Nick physically rear back at something Rafe had said, the motion grabbing your full focus. Nick covered his face with his gloved hands, looking back at Rafe and then repeating the motion before he glanced up at the stands, at you, and shook his head, resigned. Were they talking about you!?! you thought. Had Rafe just told him what's going on?

You were so caught up that you missed the play as the other team scored. The game was tied 1-1. The arena echoed with boos as their bench erupted in cheers. You looked up at the clock: 2 minutes left in the first period.

Rafe and Nick got onto the ice for their last shift and the second the puck dropped, they were off as a duo, Nick's intensity now matching Rafe's own; they were bodying guys, tag-teaming as they raced into the offensive zone. Nick had the puck and passed to Rafe, and almost immediately Rafe was cornered by two extremely large defensemen who pinned him to the boards as they tried to steal the puck. But he wouldn't relent, throwing his elbows and trying to wiggle free, desperate and angry as the buzzer sounded for the end of the period.

And yet they didn't let him go. The crowd started shouting and everyone was on their feet as Rafe dropped his stick, turned and grabbed them both by the front of their jerseys, shoving them as the benches emptied and other players joined in, piling on top of one another until you lost sight of Rafe in a mess of limbs, equipment and jerseys. You were craning to see over the ecstatic fans, egging on the fight as the referees raced to break it up, pulling bodies off of one another until they reached Rafe.

His helmet had come off and as the referees skated him towards the locker room, he was shouting at the opposing team who skated after him, riling each other up before he yanked himself out of the ref's grasp and marched off the ice through the tunnel.

Period 1: Game Tied. 1-1.

You let out a deep sigh before collapsing back in your seat. You took a shaky inhale before exhaling and you felt a set of eyes on you.

You turned to see Morgan looking at you with an eyebrow arched.

"You're really going to sit here and act like you don't know what's going on? I know that boy texts you his every thought."

You opened your mouth, an excuse, a lie ready before she interrupted you.

"-- And I KNOW you didn't block him like you said you were going to, so don't try me. What the hell is going on?"

You bit your lip at that, glancing between her and the ice where the zamboni was running clean lines across the cold surface.

You gave a halfhearted shrug, "You know how much he wants to win, how much this means to him."

She doubled down her glare.

You sighed, avoiding her gaze before looking back to her.

"I made a deal with him" you nearly whispered.

A few of the other girls snuck by you both, causing you to shift in your seats as she leaned in and whisper-shouted at you:

"I'm sorry what!"

"If he scores four goals tonight, I said I'd get back together with him."

"You're joking" she said flatly. "Please tell me you're joking."

You pursed your lips with a small shake of your head.

"The two of you" she said as she let out an exasperated laugh. "Unbelievable. You can't stay away from each other and yet you’re willing to bet the stakes of your relationship on a game. I can't" she said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

She paused, getting serious for a moment.

"Are you sure you even want to get back with him, is that really such a good idea hun?"

"Morgan, he's never going to score four goals, it's like, impossible."

"Are you watching the same game I am?" she said emphatically. "Cause your mans sure is gonna try and you better ask yourself what you're going to do if he does."

There was a whisper of truth to what she was saying. It was probably impossible, but not completely out of reach. And what would you do? Your heart trilled. You would be ecstatic the devil on your shoulder said. You would be screwed said the angel.

Your phone buzzed in the cupholder next to you and swiped it open.

You grasped at your phone. Rafe never had his phone between periods, none of the players did, it was basically sacrilegious. They had just enough time to get treatment, catch their breath, hydrate and listen to their coach and he was on his phone!? You put yours down and tried to rearrange the smile creeping onto your face as you saw the teams rejoining the ice for the second period.

Just like before, Rafe was off like a rocket, but the other team was on to him this time, doubling his defensive coverage, making it nearly impossible for him to skate, let alone make a play. He had put a target on his back with the fight at the end of the first period, so even when he didn't have the puck, you could see the other players go after him, a stick in his skates, a slash at his side, heads turning to chirp at him as they lined up for faceoffs. But he didn't slow down for a moment, battling twice as hard now, coming back to the bench after each shift uncharacteristically exhausted, heaving with his elbows on his knees.

You watched him and felt overcome with emotions as the realization hit you: Rafe wasn't good at expressing himself, he wasn't a 'feelings' person, he didn't always know what to say, which is why sometimes words came better to him over texts when he had more time to think about it. But hockey? Hockey was his language. He couldn't tell you how sorry he was, how much he wanted to fight for this, but he could show you. He could play for you, he was playing for you, putting his body on the line, trying his all-out hardest, not a single person in the arena could deny that as they watched him tonight. He wanted this. Badly. Which meant he wanted you, badly. You felt a flush of warmth in your cheeks that had nothing to do with your lukewarm hot chocolate as you watched him slide up the bench for his next shift.

You looked up at the jumbotron. There were only 12 minutes left in the second period, and the game was still tied at 1-1.

What were you going to do if he scored four goals?

What were you going to do if he didn't? felt like the more pressing question. He was running out of time. If something didn't happen now, he would have one period left to score 3 goals, and that was simply not going to happen. I shouldn't have made the number so high you thought guiltily.

Your eyes glanced back to the ice as he clambered over the boards in the midst of a shift change. He was skating methodically, not slower, but maybe more strategically and you were sure his energy was waning even if it didn't look like it.

Suddenly, Nick picked the puck off an opponent and Rafe raced to skate with him, crossing into the offensive zone with several of their teammates. Nick had a wide open shot, and he brought his stick back for a slapshot before turning at the very last moment and passing to Rafe who had positioned himself near the goalie. The puck banked off his stick and ricocheted into the goal.

You were on your feet again, jumping up and down in Morgan's arms as the boys piled onto each other. The crowd was alive again as the team took a 2-1 lead, 5 minutes left now in the second period.

Morgan looked at you, shaking her head before shouting something you couldn't hear over the crowd. You shook your head back before she leaned in closer.

"Is Nick in on this shit?" she yelled.

You looked at her, confused.

"Why else wouldn't he take that shot? It was wide open."

The idea of Rafe recruiting his best friend and linemate into this made you lightheaded and giddy. As you looked back at the bench, the two of them were shoulder to shoulder, looking right at you and Nick waved, a goofy little smile on his face for the briefest of seconds before his attention returned to the game.

Period 2: Eagles winning. 2-1.

The period ended and you spent the last intermission glued to your seat as everyone around you got up to get food and drinks, your mind spinning.

One period. Twenty minutes left for Rafe to score 2 goals. It was still nearly impossible, but didn't feel as insurmountable as before and you still weren't sure what you wanted the outcome to be. You were staring into middle space, questioning your entire relationship when your phone buzzed again in your cupholder. You swiped it open.

Two hearts.

Two goals.

You smiled widely, rolling your eyes before giggling like a little girl. You wanted to respond, and your fingers lingered over your screen, but he still had no business being on his phone, and what could you possibly say anyway?? "Nevermind!! Let's get back together despite all the shit you put me through!"

Ugh.

The third period was simultaneously the slowest and quickest 20 minutes of your life.

Rafe was battling, and the other team battled back, getting chippier and chippier as the teams exchanged penalties and breakaways, but the score stayed the same. You could feel the crowd's excitement at the prospect of scraping through this game with a one-goal lead; a good enough result to make them happy, but you couldn't deny the disappointment you felt as you were playing an entirely different game.

As time whittled down you felt yourself getting emotional as the odds were stacked against Rafe, stacked against both of you. Ten minutes. Eight. Five. Three. You could feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes as your foot continued to tap, eyes glancing anxiously between Rafe, the bench, the players and the jumbotron that counted down the time unceasingly.

Morgan reached for you, winding her arm around yours and grabbing your hand, a sad smile on her lips. You both knew this wasn't going to happen. There was just no way. You could sense that Rafe could feel it too, he was getting more and more desperate, scrambling after the puck, making sloppy mistakes that made you feel guilty, the most so when the other team scored… tying the game.

And then what felt like the final twist of the knife: with less than 1 minute left, they scored again, capitalizing on the dashed morale of the Eagles to take the lead 3-2. It was like someone sucked the air out of the arena. Rafe was on the ice, on his knees and all of the players looked so defeated.

Fuck fuck fuck was all you could think as they regrouped with their coach to come up with their last play, their last chance to tie the game. You leaned forward, desperately trying to read lips as if you could somehow decipher the plan. The ref blew the whistle and the coach sent guys on the ice, leaving Rafe behind, and your stomach dropped: he wasn't even going to get a chance.

Rafe argued and you could see him yelling and gesturing wildly as the coach yelled back. The ref blew the whistle again and you knew they were dangerously close to getting a delay of game penalty. A ripple of confusion went through the crowd as they watched the argument unfold and you wished you could sink into your seat and disappear.

The coach shouted something that seemed final before Rafe took one look at him, ignored him and skated onto the ice, swapping with Nick who slid onto the bench, head bowed, ashamed, as the coach berated him.

At this point, Rafe had been on the ice way longer than he should have, he was making mistakes, and now he was putting his career, his contract on the line as he stepped up to take the faceoff.

The puck dropped and the battle ensued as the teams fought back and forth. Their team took a shot on goal that had you holding your breath as the time ticked down.

There were less than 20 seconds left as the puck rebounded towards Rafe and he guided it with his stick, taking off down the ice faster than you'd ever seen him skate; in just three strides he had nearly covered the length of the rink, leaving all of the other players trailing behind him as he squared off with the goalie.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" the crowd shouted.

You were on your feet, grasping Morgan's arm for dear life, certain you were leaving a mark as you continued to hold your breath.

Rafe shot the puck and it hit the goalie's leg pad, but bounded right back to him.

"Three! Two!"

He shot again and the goalie fell forward, but the crowd behind the goalie erupted and the official lit the lamp behind the goal - he had scored.

The puck had slid between the goalie's legs and Rafe exploded with energy, ripping down the ice and jumping into the glass in front of you as his team piled on top of him and the crowd went ballistic as fans threw their hats onto the ice to celebrate his hat trick - three goals scored.

You were jumping and screaming with the other girls, a few tears escaping your eyes in relief and excitement, overwhelmed at the entire situation.

Three goals.

He'd scored three damn goals, a new career record for him. And now they were in overtime.

Period 3: Game tied 3-3. End of regulation play.

"Wait! Wait! What the hell happens now!?" Morgan asked breathless, looking to you as the only girl that knew a thing about the rules.

"Overtime" you huffed, trying to calm yourself. "Another 20 minutes, first team to score wins."

"Was that part of the deal?" she asked.

"It wasn't not part of the deal?" you said. "We didn't really get into specifics" you laughed, rolling your eyes.

You glanced at the bench as both teams hydrated and listened to the coaches. Rafe's teammates were still all over him, smacking his helmet, arms slung around him. The coach said something to him and he put his hands up in surrender as he sat on the bench and his teammates took the ice.

Your eyes were glued to Rafe but unlike before his didn't meet yours and for a second, you didn't know how to take that. You craved that acknowledgement from him, but you also recognized the look on his face; he was totally 100% focused, eyes fixed on the action on the ice. He wants to win you thought. Or maybe his focus was for something else.

Within a few minutes, his line was up and they jumped on the ice. He was playing smart now, conservative, concentrated and gathered, a stark difference from before. He was strong on defense, backing his team up as they played perfectly off of each other, which paid off when Nick stole the puck and shouted as he passed the puck up the boards to Rafe who sprinted after it, just a stride in front of a defender.

"Oh my god" you heard Morgan mutter as everyone stood to their feet and even though the roar of the crowd was deafening, you swore you could hear every scrape of Rafe's skate against the ice, the clatter of the puck as the play moved in slow motion to the beat of your heart.

Another stride and Rafe was alone in the offensive zone, the defender just a hair behind him.

Was this really happening? Was he about to end the game, to score a fourth goal?

Another stride and he was eyeing the goalie, lining up his shot.

He maneuvered his stick and just as he was about to shoot, the defender dove, thrusting his stick in Rafe's path, causing them both to tumble onto the ice and into the goalie, the puck sliding away, abandoned as the refs blew their whistles. No goal.

Rafe was down for only a second before he stood up, grabbed his stick and swung it with full force, snapping it in half over the boards in front of him in rage and frustration, causing the fans behind the glass to jump and spill their beer on each other.

Two of the refs were frantically skating towards him, waving their arms and blowing their whistles, but your eyes drifted to the head referee who was standing next to the officials box, watching a small computer screen, a replay. Almost immediately he nodded, handed back the screen and raised his fisted hands over his head and crossed them and you let out an uncontrollable shout of excitement as you grabbed for Morgan.

"What! Oh my god! What is going on!!?" she shouted back, and all you could do was laugh and shout as you jumped up and down and pointed to the referee.

"You are the ONLY ONE HERE who knows what that means!" she shouted. "What does it mean!!!?"

"A PENALTY SHOT!" you shouted back.

Your eyes shot back to Rafe who had clocked the same thing and was skating back to the bench. The equipment manager handed him a new stick and now the arena was abuzz with the same information as the announcer explained that Rafe would have the chance to score one on one against the goalie, with all of the other players off the ice. A golden opportunity.

The fans were ballistic. You could barely hear yourself think, could barely process your emotions as you struggled onto your tiptoes again to see over the raised hands and jumping fans as Rafe skated methodically to center ice, alone.

He skated back and forth, side to side with crisp turns like a predatory shark before he stopped at center ice, hands on his stick on his knees, eyeing the goalie before his head turned slowly and he looked right at you. Even amidst the chaos, you could see his signature smirk before he refocused and gathered the puck in his stick.

He was going to score.

You just knew it. You knew by the look on his face, by the stride of his skates, by the confidence in his gait.

"He's going to score" you said out loud, quietly, to yourself, a revelation before you turned to Morgan who was solely focused on the scene unfolding on the ice. You tugged on her sleeve, desperate for her to understand the weight of what you had just said.

"He's going to score, Morgan" you said, louder, matter-of-factly.

"Well SHIT I hope so!!!!" she shouted back without looking at you, now completely wrapped up in the game.

She didn't understand.

He was going to score.

And that meant he was going to be yours again.

Your eyes found the ice and you watched as he approached the goalie, goading him out of the goal, faking him out before wrapping the puck around his leg and tipping it upward.

The goalie dove backwards at the last minute and 15,000 fans held their breath as his gloved hand extended, brushing the edge of the puck, causing it to wobble, but without enough force to change the course of fate as the puck swooshed into the net.

The goal lamp lit up.

The goal horn sounded.

And if you thought the arena was loud before, it reached a new level as fans screamed, shouted, jumped up and down and embraced each other.

You felt realization ripple over you, your gaze stuck on the ice. Stuck on the image of the goalie flat on his back, defeated. Stuck to Rafe who had ripped his helmet off, discarded as he let out a roar of victory before getting bombarded by his teammates who piled on him in celebration.

End of OT. Eagles win 4-3.

Morgan yanked you into her by your shoulders, hugging you and jumping up and down, but an unexplainable calm had settled over you, gluing your feet to the ground.

You should be excited, you were, but instead you felt like you were having an out-of-body experience. What the hell had just happened? Rafe had scored four goals, had led his team to the finals. Had he done it for himself? Of course. But wasn't a part of it for you too?

You turned and looked back at the ice, desperate to catch his eye, to talk to him, to figure this out as chaos rained around you. The players skated to center ice with their sticks raised to salute the fans before skating away, Rafe leading them quickly into the tunnel without so much as a look at you. Not even a cheeky smile or a blown kiss, which you used to get after every game. What the fuck.

Morgan shook your shoulder.

"Babes, now what?!" she asked, excited, curious, anxious.

You looked at her, lost. You had no idea. Did you text him? Were you just back together again? How did this work?

The lights dimmed as the announcer drew the crowd back in to introduce the three stars of the game - recognizing the three standout players of the night. The third star was your goalie, who stopped an unimaginable number of shots and you cheered for him as he skated solo onto the ice in a spotlight, taking a spin around the ice before tossing a t-shirt into the crowd to an excited fan.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, your mind incapable of thinking of anything but Rafe. You grabbed your phone. No new texts. The players were all in the locker room by now. Sure, they were partying and celebrating, but if he had time to text you in the middle of the game, couldn't he text you now??

Nick was the second star of the game and you glanced up from your phone to see him doing the familiar skate around the ice, waving to Morgan who blew him a kiss back, but you glanced back at your phone, willing a text to appear, opening and closing your texts, refreshing the app, messing with your wifi. Surely it was the internet connection you thought, now desperate to hear from him.

"Come on Cameron" you murmured to yourself.

"Okay, what is he doing?" you heard Morgan laugh and you looked down to the ice to see Nick still circling around, backwards, forwards, pumping up the crowd who roared around him as he gathered a t-shirt to throw. You were thrilled for him, really, but you resumed your focus on your phone. Should I turn it off and turn it back on again? you thought.

The lights dimmed further and the deep voice of the announcer reverberated, "Ladies and gentlemen, your first star of the game, with an unprecedented four goals, including your game winner--"

"Uhhh YN" you heard Morgan say.

But you were too distracted, too afraid to look away from your phone in case you missed a text coming through.

"--Rafe Cameron!!!" the announcer said, the spotlight shining on the tunnel, and your eyes shot up at the sound of his name, only to find the ice empty.

You felt Morgan tug harshly on your sleeve and when you finally looked back to her your stomach barrel-rolled and your heart shot into your throat.

Standing unmistakably next to her in the aisle was Rafe, still fully suited in his gear and pads, towering over everyone like a giant, his skates traded for his training shoes. Pieces of his hair were clinging to his forehead and his face was rosy with exertion, sweat dripping down his temple in rivulets.

He was smiling confidently at you, and unlike the last time you had seen him in your car, his eyes were unwavering and transfixed on yours, even when the fans around you turned around and noticed he was there, even when phones were whipped out and shouts and cheers went up, he ignored them; he only had eyes for you.

"How--" you started to say, your phone completely forgotten as he started to nudge his way past the people at the end of your row to walk fully into the seats next to you.

"Ohmygod, ohymgod" Morgan was saying as she clambered out of the way of his bulky frame and suddenly he was towering in front of you.

He was breathing heavily; with how quickly he made it up here it was no wonder he had been sprinting off the ice and into the tunnel. His face searched yours, eyes twinkling, flitting over your lips, searching for a sign, a signal, a hint of how you were feeling. And you weren't sure you could have expressed it even if you could form words.

He leaned down next to your ear and you could feel the sweat and the heat radiating off of him.

"That was four" he said, breathless and husky before pulling back, but not as far as before, his nose brushing yours.

The spotlight was sweeping the empty ice, looking for him as the announcer tried awkwardly to fill the air time, wondering where he was.

All you could do was meet his gaze, staring into his crystal blue eyes.

And all you could see was your Rafe.

Sure, he had his issues, but you knew he was sincere, you knew he was trying and you acknowledged that despite everything he was probably the love of your life.

"We didn't agree on overtime goals" you said loudly back at him to be heard over the crowd.

For a moment you could see fear, panic and a hint of hurt cross his face; if you didn't know him as well as you did you wouldn't have seen it, it was nearly indetectable. But he took one look at your sly smile, your blushing cheeks, your eyes rimmed with tears.

"C'mere" he said roughly, ignoring you as his warm and sweaty hands that smelled unmistakably like his gloves grabbed your face and pulled you towards him as his lips enveloped yours, engulfing you, bold, brazen and completely unabashed as he full on made out with you, chaotically, his tongue slipping into your mouth, even when you tried to wiggle away, more out of a sense of decorum than anything as a feeling seeped through every inch of you like he was mending every wound in your body.

He was sweating all over you at this point, but you didn't care. You could feel it dripping on you. You could taste it in his kiss, mixed with the tang of yellow gatorade and your fingers grasped for purchase on his jersey as you tried to balance yourself against the force of him pressing into you.

The crowd around you erupted, as the flash of pictures being taken lit the two of you. He was unrelenting and you could feel yourself flushing as much from his attention as from the heat radiating off of him. It definitely went on longer than it should have, longer than any right-minded couple would have made out in front of thousands of fans before he paused just long enough, his lips still hovering on yours and said through a growl, "You're mine, baby."

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444, @rafescurtainbangz, @romiiq, @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd, @warriorblu, @ietss, @tiaamberxx, @zyafics, @maybankslover, @saintchxx4, @akirkland, @cameronspecial, @f4ll-for-you, @diduzzula, @user123453226780536, @zizuras, @imabigback, @rowans-posts, @mymultiveres, @drewsphswife, @fangirlwithlou

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #hockey rafe

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barcaatthemoon · 3 months ago

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Hi, I hope you're well. Do you think that I could get a blurb for KK Harvey with the line "God, you are so smart. It's amazing." and a premed!reader please.

trophy wives || caroline harvey x reader ||

your face was buried in your practice test booklet. caroline occasionally glanced over your shoulder before quickly looking away. all of it was confusing to her. you were going for a degree in environmental engineering. caroline thought you could just play hockey, but she loved that you were also building a second career just in case you didn't get drafted.

"can you hand me that textbook?" you asked as you motioned towards the book on the other side of caroline. she twisted and glanced between the four books you had left open. "solar panels."

"god, you are so smart. it's amazing. i feel so lucky to have a girlfriend who is gonna let me be her pretty little trophy wife," caroline said as she slid the book you needed in front of you.

"so, you're not upset that i'm staying instead of declaring for the draft?" you asked. caroline sighed as she took your hands in hers.

"i was upset, but i'm proud of you. you're gonna get your degree, and probably work somewhere big and impressive. it'll be hard for a while, but we'll get the hang of it. then, i can retire and raise our four kids or something."

"four kids?" you questioned. "babe, i love you, but absolutely not."

"it doesn't have to be four. three is good too," caroline said with a small pout.

"give me a few years, and we'll see how one goes."

#answered #woho blurbs #woho fanfics #woho x reader #woho imagine #caroline harvey imagine #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey imagine #kk harvey x reader

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leaentries · 1 year ago

Text

i want you to give in | nico hischier

summary: tension can only build for so long, eventually it will have to snap.

warnings: suggestive themes, swearing

wc: 2.6k+

You and Nico had only been friends a couple of months, but that didn’t stop the growing tension every time you were in the same room.

Becoming close friends with a bunch of professional hockey players was not on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you are, knocking on the door of Jack and Luke’s shared apartment.

You had met Luke at a bar when your so-called “friends” dragged you out for the night, then proceeded to ditch you for some random guys they had run into.

Luke noticed your sunken form at the corner of the bartop, looking as out of place as he felt. He took the opportunity to introduce himself, buying you a drink in the process. After the two of you hit it off, he made sure to stay by your side the rest of the night. When you told him about your friend's leaving, he took it upon himself to integrate you into the tight-knit hockey crowd in the back of the wide room.

You immediately fell into a comfortable conversation with a shaggy-haired boy named Dawson. These boys, along with the select girlfriends and wives, welcomed you with open arms. Only about an hour or so had passed when he showed up.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were drawn to him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself with such confidence, but not enough to seem arrogant. Or, perhaps, it was the way his tight shirt clung to the defined muscles along his torso.

Watching his movements grow closer, you saw a few of the other boys side-hug him, clearly excited by his presence. You leaned closer to Dawson’s side, trying to get a better view of the captivating brunette man. Dawson noticed your proximity, following your gaze to see where your focus had drifted to. He smirked.

“Whatcha lookin' at?” He asked smugly.

Your eyes widened as you realized you had been caught staring. Hard. A warm blush crept up your neck as you averted to look at anything else. “N-nothing, just people watching.” You had hoped he bought your excuse, but the look on Dawson’s face proved otherwise.

��Oh no, no, no. That was definitely not nothing. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at Cap over there.” This time it was your turn to make a face.

“Cap?”

Dawson nodded, “Yeah, that's Nico. Our captain.”

Nico.

Even his name was hot.

But what had you almost on your knees was when a pair of big, deep brown eyes met your own. Your breath hitched as Nico’s eyes raked down your body. If it was any other guy, you’d typically be bothered, but there was a strange feeling of comfort in his gaze.

His tongue darted out to wet his slightly-chapped lips and, if you weren’t so flustered, you could have sworn you saw Nico’s chest begin to rise quicker. Neither of you looked away from each other, not until Jack’s drunk form flung into Nico’s. The moment may have been fleeting, but the feeling Nico had left on you wasn’t.

❥.

You didn’t run into Nico again until Luke had invited you to a Devil’s function at the Haula household. You were nervous, staying silent the entire ride over.

“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice echoed in your ears, snapping you back to reality.

“Mhm, yeah. I’m okay, just a little nervous, I guess.” You bit your lip, looking back out of the window.

“Aw, c’mon, Y/n. You’ve already met almost everyone that’s gonna be there. They all love you.”

You just gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. You had failed to mention your little “encounter” with Nico the week prior. Simply because you felt it was too insignificant to bring up to your new friend, especially with the man in question being Luke’s captain.

When the car finally parked in front of the big house, you felt yourself hesitating. You knew Nico was already inside, as Luke had been running behind on his way to pick you up. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about Nico that made your heart race and knees wobbly, but it was hard to hide his effect on your body.

“You coming?” Luke walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

It was now or never.

You followed Luke into the house, quickly being welcomed by familiar faces. Although the face you were most anxious to see was nowhere to be found. You felt your stomach drop a little bit at his absence but shook off the feeling as Dawson made his way to you.

“Hey, y/n/n! How ya been? I haven’t seen you in forever…” He whined, making you laugh.

“I literally saw you last week Daws, but I’m just fine.” You let your eyes drift over Dawson’s shoulder briefly, still not seeing Nico.

“Ah, I see,” Dawson drawled, making your eyes shoot back toward his, “You’re just concerned with finding “Mr. Pretty-Brown-Eyes,” He mocked.

“Dawson!” You slapped him slightly, “I texted you that in confidence!” You looked around to make sure no one had heard the loud boy’s comment. Seeing as everyone was preoccupied, you let out a relieved sigh.

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! But, you can’t deny it. You’ve looked like a lost puppy since you and Luke stepped through the door.”

“Oh, whatever, I have not.” You pouted.

“Have to- Oh look! There’s Nico!”

You whipped your head in the direction Dawson was looking, only to be met with an empty wall. You turned back, stone-faced.

“Haha, very funny, Mercer. Very funny.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, genuinely starting to feel a little sad that you hadn’t seen Nico yet.

“C’mon, I can help you find him.”

You shook your head in protest, “No, no, absolutely not. Nope.”

Dawson’s brows furrowed, “Why not? You very obviously want to see him.”

“For your information, Dawson, I haven’t ever actually talked to him before.” You turned up your nose, rejecting the idea.

“So you’re delusional?” Dawson deadpanned.

Your jaw dropped, “Well, damn. Way to call a girl out.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m kidding..for the most part,” You gave him a pointed look, “Just come on, I’ll introduce you as my friend. I’ll even start the conversation. It’ll be fine, y/n/n.”

“Not happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the bathroom.”

“Sure, sure, escape just when I give you the opportunity of a lifetime.”

You opted to ignore Dawson as you walked away, heading to the set of stairs that led to the second story. Having overheard someone ask earlier, you knew the bathroom was somewhere upstairs. Turning knobs, you eventually found the bathroom, walking in to do your business.

Once you had finished, you opened the door to leave, not really paying attention to your surroundings. You stumbled back as you ran straight into a hard chest.

“Shit!” Your hand flew to cover the slight red spot on your forehead, “I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” You apologized profusely, still not looking to see who you ran into.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. It was my fault.” The sound of a thick accent made your skin heat up. You looked up slightly, meeting Nico’s eyes. You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t think we’ve met, properly. I’m Nico.” He flashed his dimples.

Oh god.

“I know who you are,” You panicked, “I-I mean, I’m Y/n.”

He laughed, “Well then, I know who you are too.”

“You do?” You peered up at him through your lashes, leaning your back against the door frame.

Nico nodded, eyes slightly hooded. “Yeah, I saw you with Luke at the bar last week. You were wearing that black dress.”

Your breath picked up at his statement. “You remember what I was wearing?” You silently cursed yourself for not being able to muster up any other words.

Nico’s arm rose to rest above your head as he leaned closer down to you, “How could I not remember? It’s kind of hard to forget someone like you.”

Before you could reply, you heard footsteps rushing up the stairs.

“Hey, cap! You up here?”

With your nerves getting the best of you, you took the chance to slip out of his bubble, quickly making your way back downstairs.

Holy shit.

❥.

Your encounters with Nico became more frequent, as you often were with the boys. The little flirty remarks only worsened, except now Nico took a liking to placing lingering touches on your body.

Grabbing your hips to move you over, or slightly pulling your hand to lead you through public places. It felt as if he would find any excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining, but it left your mind hazy. You would like to think he was into you the way you were him, but you couldn’t be sure.

You knew hockey players had “conquests,” and you weren’t really in the market to be one. So, you kept your feelings to yourself, not ready to face the harsh reality of Nico not being serious about pursuing you, at least romantically speaking. Which led you to now, meeting at the Hughes’ apartment for the weekly movie night.

The whole ordeal started after a night out in which mostly everyone got too hammered to get home safely. Tonight’s movie agenda was the entire “Hunger Games” series since Luke has been wanting to go see the newest that just hit theaters.

After Jack let you in the apartment, you made a b-line to the side room off the hallway that held all the blankets. You made sure to get the same one every movie night, refusing to share with anyone else. Curling up in your usual corner, a knock at the door stilled the apartment.

“Who’s that?” Dawson asked Luke, who was making popcorn in the kitchen.

“It’s probably Nico. He wanted to start joining us for movie night.”

You felt your body perk up at the new information, you’d be seeing Nico weekly. Another knock followed after a minute.

“Could one of you please get that? I’m busy perfecting this popcorn.”

“It’s literally just popcorn, Luke.” Dawson remarked.

“No, there is the perfect butter-to-popcorn ratio that I have figured out. Now, please, let the captain inside.”

Dawson, who just sat down, turned to you, “Can you let Cap in, y/n/n?” He smirked, “I’m still trying to get comfortable.”

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, clearly picking up on what he was trying to do.

“Guys?” Luke called, “It’s gonna get awkward if you don’t let him in.”

Huffing, you rose from your spot, “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Luke.”

You gripped the cold metal doorknob, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Whoa.

You felt yourself shamelessly check out Nico’s attire, his muscular form clad in grey sweats and a simple black t-shirt. An action that did not go unnoticed by Nico.

He smirked, gently brushing past you, “Who’s panties are in a twist?”

Goosebumps rose upon your heated skin.

A man that hot should never be allowed to say panties so casually.

By the time you got back to your spot, a certain Swiss male had decided to occupy the once-perfect corner seat. Your shoulders slumped slightly, you felt a whine build up in your throat.

“Nico, you know I always sit there.” You pouted at him, sending a glare his way.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, we can share. My lap still has plenty of room.”

You could have sworn you stopped breathing. The way his brown eyes shined into yours made you almost hopeful that his smooth words were more than just a ploy, but doubt still rang clear in your ears. Before you could respond, Jack and Luke entered the living room, both with bowls full of popcorn.

“Hey Y/n, would you mind going to grab some more blankets for everyone? We have our hands full with this popcorn.” Jack asked you, sending you a grateful smile.

You eagerly accepted the offer to escape. Opening the closet door, you quickly shut it halfway, taking a moment to compose yourself.

In and out, Y/n. In and out.

Once your breathing was semi-normal, you turned around grabbing an armful of random blankets. As you turned once more, this time to leave, you ran into a hard chest.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this, pretty girl.” Nico’s voice echoed in your ears as he quietly shut the door behind him. You scoffed, placing the blankets on the shelf beside you. Crossing your arms, you looked into Nico’s eyes.

“And you really need to stop calling me that.” You slightly cringed at how harsh your words sounded through the small space. Nico’s face fell slightly.

“Why’s that? Hm?” He quirked his head to the side, slowly backing you up until you hit the wall. You did your best to control the raging fire in your chest or the way your skin crawled at his proximity.

“Because you don’t mean it, at least not seriously mean it.”

Nico placed his hands softly on your hips, gripping them into his own. “I mean what I say. I haven’t been playing with you, ya know.” His face now had a pink twinge as he looked down, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks, but every time I say something you run away.”

You looked away from him guiltily. He wasn’t making it up, you did try and find any possible reason to avoid him when he started getting flirty. Only because you knew he wasn't truly into you, or at least thought he wasn’t.

Nico’s hand reached up to turn your head back towards him, your lips only inches apart. You could feel his shallow breaths fanning on your aching lips. It was tempting, being so close to him. He was a drug and you were trying so hard not to get addicted.

“I only ran because,” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because why, schatzi?”

A whimper almost escaped your throat at his choice of name.

“Because I didn’t want to give in.” Your words hung around the both of you. You didn’t know where to look, nervous for Nico’s response.

“I do,” You darted your eyes into Nico’s at his low voice, “I want you to give in.”

“Nico-”

“No,” He cut you off, lips now brushing against yours, “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it.”

I just want to give in.

Your hand reached up to Nico’s jaw, finally pulling him down to crash your lips together. The kiss was desperate, both of you hot and needy for each other. Nico groaned into the kiss, pulling your hips deeper into him. His tongue danced across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Letting him in, you whined at the taste.

You finally pulled away, breathless.

“Wow.” That’s all you could muster. You could feel Nico’s racing heartbeat under your fingertips where your hand rested on his chest.

He rested his forehead against yours, nodding slightly.

“Yeah, wow.”

You nudged his head up, his doe-eyes peering into yours. You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off, once again.

“Before you say anything, just know that I’m serious about you. I think I have been since I saw you at that bar.”

You bit the inside of your lip, “Promise?”

Nico placed a sweet kiss on your nose, “Promise.”

The moment was temporary, being ruined by a loud voice, “Cap and Mrs. Cap! Get your asses out here and quit fucking each other. I am NOT in the mood to be an uncle.”

“Screw you, Dawson!”

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine #nh13 #jack hughes #luke hughes #dawson mercer #njd #new jersey devils #leawrites💋

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tojisun · 5 months ago

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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)

pining for someone in an established relationship sucks, or: hockey player kyle garrick x f!reader, kyle x f!OC (one-sided)

context here and here! major cw that this is me being delusional [thumbs up emote] other cw: fast-burn, time jumps, outside pov // 3.5k words

current timeline: kyle garrick’s second season (pre-injury)

she has always liked garrick—it’s hard not to like him, after all.

he is electric. beautiful, especially on ice. he skates like it comes to him as easy as breathing; like he’s been born with no other purpose but to take to the ice. she doesn’t understand why people called him overhyped when garrick is a beast in his own right—tearing through the space with ease and confidence, overpowering even the ones with legacies longer than his own.

as if there was any doubt that he wasn’t destined for the big leagues.

she’s not really privy to the nuances of ice hockey, oftentimes content with only watching. it was garrick who made her want to learn more about it; who had her scouring through the net about anything and everything because this way, it felt like she could know more about him.

it was pathetic, really, if not a little funny, but she felt vindicated by it. she felt as though she…deserved this much; this sliver of kyle garrick that she can have. this version of him that she can get to know because the real garrick is closed-off to the rest of the world. because the real garrick has a whole other life before him and it didn’t include her.

then, somehow, someway, she finds her way to him.

it starts off with a question—do you want to come?

there is not much to be said about having a cousin in the league—she’s family, yes, but sasha’s so much older than her now. he’s even moved across the country to join his current team, the specgru, where he found his now-wife. so really, she falls under sasha’s radar quite often, which she was fine to begin with.

but things kept lining up, and one thing led to another, and then sasha’s wife, mila, was inviting her over to a party. a specgru party.

it felt like, well, it felt surreal.

one moment she was watching them on ice, from those special boxes for the wives and girlfriends, then the next they’re in front of her.

garrick is in front of her.

he looks beautiful, catastrophically so. there are not enough words that exist that can describe him but if she were to try, she would tell the world how garrick was like the sun—warm and tender, his gravitational pull so strong it has her trembling. aching.

he lagged behind the older members, shy and quiet most of the time, but she couldn’t stop looking at him, her throat constricting as the bubble of her desires razed her.

she needs—

he turns, his eyes meeting hers.

ah, she thinks to herself as the air in her lungs leave her in one swoop. his eyes are a startling hazel.

kyle.

garrick told her to call him kyle. he murmured it to her with a shy smile, and she couldn’t look away from his crinkled eyes, creased in a way that made him look younger. in a way that made him look more familiar and less untouchable.

kyle.

just thinking about his name filled her up with immense giddiness, the butterflies rising from the pit of her stomach to tickle the back of her throat. she repeated his name as much as she was allowed to, murmuring it to herself or calling it out loud because when she did, kyle was always there to look at her with his kind eyes.

he was so patient with her. so understanding of her awe.

he kept her company even when he didn't need to, and a part of her felt bad for monopolizing his time, of course, but kyle had talked to her in stilted murmurs and filled up their bubble with anything and everything, until the awkwardness drained and they were left with aching stomachs as laughter continued to peel from their lips.

she couldn't find it in herself to be guilty; she couldn't find it in herself to wish that kyle should have just left her.

she is, after all, still so very selfish.

and now that she's gotten a piece of what being with kyle was like, she doesn't know if she could ever stop the feelings settling in the pit of her stomach anymore. she doesn’t know if she could ever rationalize herself anymore because this thing she feels for kyle, it seemed to be heading toward a storm.

somehow an easy friendship between the two of them developed. a sort of companionship that had her up late at night, tumbling every message she’s received from him, no matter how sparse and little.

it’s not his fault, after all. the season already started, and she knew that the specgru are out for blood this season—they want to advance to the playoffs, and then win the cup that was snagged from their chest by the lightnings last season.

so she savours everything she receives, from the replies to her morning greetings to the memes he sends her sporadically during the day. she tucks everything into the pockets of her chest, knowing full well that this isn’t ideal. that this is destructive. desperate.

but no man has ever made her feel the way she does for kyle—that sort of feeling that makes someone want to sleep earlier so that tomorrow comes a lot faster, or that feeling that zaps out one’s appetite for no apparent reason, or that feeling that cages one’s mind until all one can think of is them.

until all she can think of is him.

kyle is—

kyle is a wonder. a riot.

he is all that is good in the world. all that gives her joy. she understands that the weight of her feelings must be a burden to kyle if he were to ever find out, but it’s just that, kyle is...

he is amazing. his hockey is amazing. his skills and abilities are amazing. his attitude and fortitude and his perseverance are all amazing.

she understands now why hockey players are called stars. their blaze runs hot and bright, a supernova, something that is almost so religious, and it is all so enchanting that one cannot help but store their dreams—a sort of patriotic need for the cup to come back home—into their cluster.

but stars, they crash. they burn. they sputter, snuffed out of their light, of their wonder.

she wonders why she has forgotten such fate.

she finds out about it through a news article; in a way that hammered into her their circumstances. their differences.

she was unable to watch the game, too caught up in the swirling miasma of her life. everything felt too shaky, like things got ahead of her, and she so desperately tried to catch up. to stabilize herself.

kyle had told her good luck.

she had forgotten to return it.

and now—

specgru defenceman, kyle garrick, out ‘long term’ with reported broken clavicle.

all of a sudden, it is like the ground was ripped from under her and she is left falling, dread and surprise and hurt swirling in her gut.

it felt surreal, like it wasjust a bad dream that she couldn’t wake up from. like the words are a jumbled mess and her mind is just so desperately slotting the pieces together to make sense of it all.

what does this mean for kyle?

she swipes out of the hockey central news and rings sasha, but he would not pick up her calls and mila was only able to recount whatever was broadcasted, but she took it with shaking palms, her worry bloating because kyle has never been so unreachable before. so worryingly absent in her life.

she needed to hear about what happened from someone she trusts. not from the news media, nor the threads of posts made online, but from someone who knew kyle too. not garrick the player, but kyle for the man who he is.

mila said it happened so fast that no one could even fathom the gravity of the situation. she said she saw kyle skating for the puck, another opposing player hot on his heels, almost uncomfortably so, before the two of them just toppled into the boards.

“it took a while for him to stand up,” mila murmured, her voice faint on the other line. “but we knew it was bad when we saw him holding his shoulder. and then they pulled him from the game and we knew then that it couldn’t have been something small.”

“is he—” she paused, not knowing where to even begin. “do you know if he’s—”

“…i don’t know.”

the call ended there. she doesn’t even remember if she replied to mila, too caught up in the worry churning in the pit of her stomach. too caught up with the weight of her doubts crushing her.

what does this mean for kyle, if not some sense of retirement?

she does not get to meet kyle until after the surgery.

(everyday, she finds herself drafting a message to him.

i’m sorry, it begins.

i heard what happened. she deletes this.

i heard you’ll miss the rest of the regular seas—

i heard they’re saying you might have to r—

you’ve had a good career—

i’m sorry, it reads, so soulless and inadequate for the storm in her heart. she scraps it out and throws her phone to her bed.)

sasha had been the one to tell her that he was scheduled for one, his nose wrinkled in confusion at her insistence in being updated.

“i knew y’were close but…” he told her then, almost accusingly like there’s something she’s got to admit.

and she knows she has to tell someone about what she feels for kyle, or even stop dancing around it every time mila asks, but it was too intimate. it was too fragile.

so she shrugged and ignored his narrowed eyes, hoping that he’d drop it. and sasha may be a hulking mass of muscles with only hockey and mila in his mind, but he heeled and told her when kyle was available for guests.

she bought him flowers and it feels so silly because she knows they are only placations. she knows that kyle wants nothing more than the ice—not their ‘i’m sorry’s nor their ‘next time’s nor their ‘get well soon’s. but what else can she do for him besides this?

they’re friends. they’re just friends.

this is the extent of what she’s allowed to do.

these are the things she tells herself as she makes his way to his room, greeting the players loitering outside—they're kyle’s closest friends since he got drafted.

“oh, y’might have to wait for a wee bit, lass,” mactavish says before she could peer into the small window of the private room to check on kyle.

she turns to johnny, frowning. “oh? is something wrong?”

mactavish huffs a soft laugh, and seeing the faint humour in his face eases her worries up a bit.

“he’s alright now,” he replies, then giggles again. “we just can’t intrude, yeah? not when his girl’s in there with him.”

he turns to riley, blind to the way her breath got stuck in her lungs. “how long did he say that they didn’t see each other? three years?”

riley’s watching her, his face pinched in discomfort. mactavish pokes him again when he doesn’t reply.

“almost four,” is what riley finally manages to reply, his voice rasping out like a grunt, the words slithering from the cracks of his teeth like he could see her.

like he knows what kyle means to her and what this news, this shocking revelation, is doing to her.

mactavish looks back at her again, smiling, still so unknowing. still so innocently honest.

“i have to—” she fumbles, her fist tightening around the stem of the bouquet she’s carrying. “i’m going to—”

she bolts, her feet thudding against the sterile floors.

pinpricks fill the back of her eyes, raging as they push against her restraint, stinging, until the tears bead, pooling, her eyesight blurring, and then they fall. she gasps out a sob, the cry lurching from the depths of her lungs and tearing through her trachea.

it hurts.

she bites down the sobs that threaten to come out, fighting against the agony until she’s finally back in the comfort of her car.

she breathes, dragging in a wet inhale, then she breaks.

her first feeling was heartbreak. the second was betrayal—how could he not have told her? did he trust her so little?

but just as fast as the feeling of betrayal came, so too did the rationalization. the spark of clarity burning through the anger and the hurt to tug her out of its depths, straining to bring her out of the vitriolic spiral.

mactavish and riley’s words descend to her, heavy but enlightening.

almost four years. kyle has not seen his girlfriend for almost four years.

he was someone else’s person before she and kyle even met.

she finds his socials and digs around, skirting past the guilt of worrying about this more than his recovery.

she scrolls past his recent pictures, past the ones taken with the team or the ones in his juniors, past the brand deals and the ads he’s featured in, until she finds herself deep in his past. she pauses, taking in the pictures of kyle in some north american university, playing for their varsity team.

he is younger here but just as passionate. just as in love with hockey. only—

there, she finds you.

you were startlingly the focus of his page before he moved across the continent for the league. you were there, always by his side or featured on your own, his love overpowering in the way he shares to the world how he sees you.

framed in the sun, melting into the sea, giggling as you lay in the grass where he took you for a picnic date—kyle shared it all.

he shared his life with you to the world—his life with you in your dorms as you two studied for exams, or in a corner store while you two munched on food at three in the morning, or you cheering for him in the stands, slapping at the glass protector in your excitement while you stood beside a man who looks so much like you.

few scrolls in and she learns that that’s your brother, kyle’s lifelong friend.

she realized then, how you and kyle are interwoven together—two beating hearts, twined into one.

how could she have missed this all?

how could she have thought that she knew kyle at all? that the pieces he’s shared with her defined all that he is?

then, she finds one picture that truly captivated her. one that made her sit upright because this showed how you were, are, his cornerstone—you took to the ice, standing beside him in your own gear, the two of you infinitely intimidating as the two of you stared into the camera, hungry for something.

hungry for a win.

you know ice hockey.

(in a way, that single fact explains so much.

kyle needed someone who knew him beyond his story, beyond his fame. someone who knew his hockey before it was muddled by the bets. before the politics of it all.

kyle needed someone who—)

oh, she thought.

oh.

she returns back in the hospital despite the curl of shame and sadness that settled in the pit of her stomach. she returns because kyle is still her friend.

the boys are gone by the time she reaches his private room, but she falters in her steps anyway because there, she sees you.

you are sat by the visitor’s seats, bent over in your exhaustion. it is staggering to truly see the woman whom kyle cares about the most—the very same one she just learned about an hour ago.

you are older now, of course, different from the pictures taken years ago, but you continue to be shrouded in that aching familiarity of being kyle’s person. like it just makes sense that you and kyle are together.

something churns in her heart, but she bulldozes through the weight of it all and ambles towards you.

you look up at the sound of her feet, blinking weary eyes up at her.

“hi,” she greets shyly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment.

“hey,” you reply just as softly, confused, until your eyes fall to the flowers she’s carrying and then you’re smiling, patting the seat beside your own.

“he’s asleep right now,” you say as she sits. “i heard you were here earlier but you had to go because something urgent came up. hope things are alright?”

“yeah,” she croaks out, reeling from the familiarity in your tone, like you know of her, somehow. “had to, uh, take a call. how’s he?”

you hum, rubbing your forearm softly—a nervous habit, she notes. kyle does it too, sometimes.

“stable,” you begin. “it was a quick surgery so there’s that. they said he’ll be fine.”

she bites her lips, hesitant. then, “and, uhm, what will happen to him now?”

it is here that you smile, wide and excitable, and she blinks in her surprise, unable to see where you’re coming from. unable to understand where you find the fortitude to do so. and then, you laughed, the sound of it almost barked out like it came from the cages of your ribs, rattling against your bones to shake you awake. it was raw, booming. it was sunny and bright.

“he will be back,” you finally reply, voice so airy like you are floating on air. “his career’s not over.”

there is a sense of finality in your words. a sense of belief so strong, it sounds reverent.

(later, alone with her thoughts, she will remember the words she almost left with kyle—you’ve had a good career—and she will realize why you continue to be the one he chooses.)

“i’m glad,” she murmurs, huffing out in her relief because she had been so afraid. so muddled with worry.

you giggle, the sound twinkling like chimes, before telling her your name.

i know, she almost slipped out only to bite it at the last minute.

she gives you hers in return.

“i know,” you say, gentle and kind. she jolts in her surprise. “kyle talks about you a lot.”

what could she even say to that? before, she’s sure that her heart would’ve caved in, and she would be filled with butterflies so strong, she’d get dizzy; that she’d feel a flicker of hope burn bright, and it would warm her up and sustain her until she meets kyle again. but not now. not anymore.

so she settles with, “yeah?” in hopes that such a short answer will hide the way she trembles.

“yeah,” you tell her, so genuine it makes her hands clammy. “i’m glad that he’s found his people here, you know? people who see him for himself, more than anything else.”

you sound so grounded—kyle’s cornerstone.

you look at her with nothing but kindness. happiness.

(a part of her knows that you know what she feels for kyle.)

“he’s…wonderful. well, he’s more than that but i think,” she pauses to chuckle. “you know that better than anyone else.”

when kyle wakes up, you tell her you need to grab something for him to eat. the two of you pretend it’s not your way of giving the two of them privacy.

she walks in, her nose scrunched at how wrinkled her flowers are now, but kyle beams at her in gratitude altogether, weak hands curling around the flowers with such tender.

he looks exhausted, pained, still, and she doesn’t even have to ask if it’s less about his injury and more about the fact that he’s made to miss the rest of the season.

“i’m sorry,” she finally gets to say. “i wish you didn’t have to miss anything.”

“i know,” he replies, his smile pinched. then, she watches as he shuts his eyes, breathing in deeply, before his body uncoils, now more relaxed.

“i know,” he repeats, blinking up at her. “but i’ll get it all back next year.”

“yeah?” she asks, not out of doubt but to bring the fire back in his eyes. she wants to see them hardened, resolute.

kyle grins, manically almost. “hell yeah.”

she laughs, feeling something in her unfurl, like a taut string cutting loose.

they talk with the same familiarity, with the same cadence, and she sees how your presence has not changed anything between the two of them. it is all so refreshing. merciful, almost.

and she now knows that it is because kyle has never thought of her in any other way that isn’t just friendly or platonic, but it means a lot to her that she can continue to have even this with kyle.

“oh, lapochka,” mila murmurs, her face crumpling in her worry. mila opens her arms and she dives in them, her choked sobs muffled on mila’s shoulders.

mila holds her for a long while.

notes: i daydreamed this so hard i had to write it LMAO ik it feels so juvenile but pls let me have it. i had to see it come to fruition and i enjoyed writing a fic structured this way!! especially since the OC is just as nameless as the reader so yk one can insert themselves into her too :’3 BUT YEA! thank u for bearing w me and i hope u guys liked it <33

#hockey au #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #kyle garrick x oc #suns

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dejwrld · 1 year ago

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— number 7 on paradis titans hockey team can get a little mean after he loses a game.

( cw ) ⸻ modern au, sports au, profanity, mean dom!jean in 4k hd ultra, female anatomy, her/she pronouns, afab, established relationship (reader and jean are married with a child), reader implied to black, creampie, impact play, oral ( f.receiving), slight spit kink, spanking, breeding kink, pet name usage (good girl, babygirl) he's just a lil salty he lost a game, i promise i ain't showing favoritism to najma lmfao, this fic was second place for the poll i posted week ago, wc: 2.1k, minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dedicated jean baby mother aka @honeybleed

When Jean lost a game, you always seemed to walk on eggshells. The nicely decorated home grows silent as a mouse when your family enters the mansion. Your son seemed to fall asleep during the long ride from the ice rink to the house, and you only tucked him in his bed after stripping him out of his clothes. Neatly folding up the hockey jersey with his father's number on it and placing it away, you placed a loving kiss on top of his sandy brown colored curls before exiting the room. You were sure to close the door behind you since you weren't sure how Jean would react due to losing the game.

When Jean's team lost, he grew quiet. A little too quiet. His interviews with ESPN and other sports outlets weren't as cheerful and confident. You could literally see the frustration and sadness in his light brown hues. The rides home are always silent, other than the questions your five-year-old would ask randomly. As a new wag (an obnoxious term for wives & girlfriends of sports players), you always ask the other partners how exactly they handle huge losses.

Eren's wife, Emilia would only shrug, mumbling about how Eren usually forgets about the loss after a day or two before he's back on the ice, perfecting any screw-ups he made during the game. Connie's girlfriend CJ would make a subtle joke about giving him head after the game to make him forget about the disappointing end of the hockey team's season.

You walked towards the master bedroom of your home, your body leaning against the door frame as you watched Jean tug off the Grey Nike sweatshirt he wore. He tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner of your room, now only in a white wifebeater. His toned arm flexed with each movement he made as he shuffled around the room. Occasionally, his gold necklace with your initials and your son's initials moved with each quick motion he made.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know it was such an important game," Your tone was soft-spoken and came out as if you were whispering.

"Strip." was the only thing Jean uttered as he was undoing the string on his Nike jogger pants.

Your lip gloss-covered lips parted to speak, but in the back of your mind, you were just thinking about making Jean happy. He was going through some wild emotions at the moment, and who were you to object against them. They lost the opportunity to compete for the Stanley Cup, so you knew the man in front of you was seeing complete red at the moment.

"Keep my jersey on, though. Everything else off." He huffed.

You stepped further inside the room, your back backing into the door to close it so you wouldn't wake up your son. Your fingers begin to unbutton the jeans you were wearing, slowly tugging them off your smooth legs. Soon, your panties joined them as Jean's index finger motioned for you to come here. With each step you took, you could feel the cool breeze in your room hit your bare bottom, sending a chill down your spine.

When you were face to face with Jean, he didn't say much. However, you could feel how hot he was. How frustrated he was. One harsh push on your king-sized bed caused your lips to let out a gasp. Your body hit the bed like a fragile little doll Jean wanted to play with. He's grabbing a hold of your ankle that was decorated with the gold anklet with his name on it with a cursive font. His lips placed soft kisses on your ankle, causing you to squirm under his firm touch. You expected him to treat you like a fragile rag doll that had just been snitched up. But boy, was you wrong. In one motion, he had turned your body around so that you were lying on your stomach, mumbling about how he needed you so badly.

"Be a pretty wife and get on all fours, m'kay," He said lowly.

You did what you were told, getting on all fours. The oversized jersey that formally belonged to Jean raised just a bit to be able to see the cup of your ass. A low yelp tumbled out your mouth when you felt Jean's large hands slap at the flesh of your ass before you could feel his hand massage the stinging flesh. A sharp hiss came out of you when you felt another slap on the opposite cheek; Jean once again repeated the process of massaging your ass cheeks. He's teasingly letting a coo tumble off his lips as you can only stutter out his name like a broken record.

"Just want to taste you real quick," His words were soft yet intimidating. He angled your body provocatively so you felt like such a filthy woman. "Just stay like that for me, please," he says before his callous fingertips are traced alongside your puffy lips. The teasing action caused your skin to be littered with goosebumps.

Once again, you desperately coughed up a yelp when you felt him slap at your throbbing cunt that was aching for his attention. The similar motion he did with your asscheek, Jean's multimillion-dollar massage at your pussy. This time, your wetness coated his fingers ever so negligibly. "You like it when I do that, huh?" He asked.

He didn't wait for you to respond before kneeling to taste you. The flat of his tongue collided with your puffy lips to lick up your juices formed just by his spankings. A weak whimper came out of you as you seemed to relax in his touch as he was eating you out. When Jean wanted to taste, he wanted to taste every fiber of you. Practically burying his face in the messiness between your thighs caused your toes to curl.

"Jean." You moaned out as you felt him glide his tongue up your slit. The lewd sound of him slurping up the mess he was making bounced off the bedroom walls. You could feel the sharpness of his nose poking you from the back; the man practically was devouring you at the moment. You were so close to breaking the perfect arch, but you knew what consequences were to come.

"Fuck." You moaned before you reached out, clawing at his sandy brown hair. Your fingers grabbed his hair as you rocked backward upon his kitten licks. Your orgasm was right there; you were so close to the finish line while your knees were growing hazy.

But Jean soon pulled away, letting your body fall limp like a deflated balloon that's lost all its air. Your poor cunt felt like it was pulsing, your orgasm was snatched away from you, and the lump of pleasurable despair disappeared.

"I can't have you cummin' just yet, baby girl," Jean commented. The little facial hair he had was stained with your juices. His upper lip lingered with your scent, and his tongue tasted like you. Maybe that made the man in a complete trance all over again.

His grey sweatpants grew tight at the crotch area. His dick was screaming to be released from the tight compress of his sweats and boxers. Jean quickly pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them like an over-enthusiastic virgin that was about to get a spliff of pussy for the first time. His blood was fuming, and he was still a bit frustrated by the loss. Especially considering the number of penalties he racked up during the game. His cock bulged in the black-colored Ethika boxers (another sponsorship he received for singing a multimillion-dollar contract) before he tugged them down also. His thick cock tapped at his toned torso when his boxers came down also.

Once again, he's grabbing onto you like a doll, dragging your whithering body toward the end of the bed. His hand firmly pushed your lower back to ensure your arch was perfect. It was a wonderful sight to see his beautiful wife completely exposed like this to him. A lovely ass up face-down position just so he can have his way with him.

You were anticipating for Jean to shove his cock inside you. Despite it being the same dick you've ridden, sucked, choked on, and the list goes on, you still found yourself chewing your lower lip off at adjusting to his girth. He was a grower for sure, with a slight curve that could kiss at that spot that caused your pedicures toes to curl. Your favorite part of his dick was his tip. It was a splendid sight when you would climb under the covers to suck him off when he complained about morning wood. It was a nice mushroom shape with a slit that gushed out so much cum when he wanted to.

"You know if you relax. You'll get used to it quicker." Jean suggested. With his slender digits climbing up the jersey, you had on to undo the bra you were wearing.

With quickness, you're removing your bra tossing it to the side with ease. Your hips bucking to receive any form of friction between Jean and yourself, but you could only feel his tip tap at your sopping entrance. "Don't be so fuckin' rude, and wait," Jean uttered as he grabbed a hold of his cock. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. Teasing you bit by bit before he's pooling all of the spit in his mouth and letting it drop down on his cock. His hand stroked his dick quickly before he once again was poking at your entrance.

"You want to make me feel better after that horrible game, right?" Jean questioned.

You only nodded as you were on all fours, your fingers grasping at the sheets below you before your mouth gasped apart, feeling him stretch you out. He didn't even wait until you adjusted to his huge size before he was pushing himself inside you like a madman. His hands grasping at your asscheeks just to feel upon you a little more. His thrusts weren't the usual slow and passionate filled; they were harsher. He was genuinely fucking you like he hated you. It was your fault that the team was two points short of going to the play for the Stanley Cup. You could only let out poor pathetic moans, moaning out for Jean.

"That's a good fuckin' girl; you're taking my dick so well," Jean uttered as his hips bucked forward into the plush of your ass. His eyes glowed excitedly at the sight of your pretty pussy, swallowing him with each thrust. The mixture of your wetness and the spit he coated on his coat was imprinted on your thighs like a nasty masterpiece.

He had one hand holding your back down while the other was grasping at the hockey jersey with his last name on it. He gripped the jersey severely to have some form of control over his brass thrusts. Ignoring your whimpers for him to slow down, or you would cum.

"Don't cum." Jean uttered out.

His words were more like a command, a dangerous warning you wanted to poke at until he exploded.

"Please Jean..." You whined into the pillow, which at this point was stained with your own drool and tears.

"What did I say, hm?" He questioned. His right hand slapped at your ass cheek causing you to let out a whine.

"Don't...cum," You hiccupped between moans.

Jean would only hum in agreement. His hips irrationally bottomed inside your dripping cunt before he pinned your arms behind your back. His tight grip on you caused you to chew at your lip as if it were some chew toy. "We'll cum together like it's supposed to fuckin' be," He commented.

You felt so lightheaded at the intense amount of stimulation upon your body. Your limbs felt like they were screaming for you to relax, and the burning sensation that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was ready to burst.

Jean's hold he had on your folded arms only grew tight with each shove forward into your pussy. He could feel his balls grow heavy each time he tapped at that one spot that caused your eyes to cruise in the back of your head. Jean's eyes were shifted closed as he was so pussy drunk, the harsh groan that grumbled off the back of his neck caused his Adam's apple to move. His thick white cum filled you up to the brim as you moaned through the sensation. Jean brought the ends of his wifebeater up to his teeth, nibbling at the ends as he rocked you on his cock slowly. He could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock, milking him of every droplet of his cum. His brown hues practically glistened at the creamy sight of a white ring around his cock with each slow thrust.

When he pulled out slowly, letting the hold he had on you go and watching you collapse breathlessly on your stomach. His fingers combed through his hair, which seemed to stick to his forehead due to the intense workout.

"I feel much better now, baby, thank you."

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #aot x reader #aot smut #anime smut #anime x reader #black reader #aot x black reader #female reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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zegrasdrysdale · 1 year ago

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[ slip of the tongue ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : after a Devils win, Nico gets interviewed in the locker room after scoring his first NHL hatty. he slips up in front of the cameras and mentions his girlfriend for the first time. it doesn't stop her from showing Nico how proud she is of him though ...

warning(s) : smut ! p in v protected sex, oral (m receiving), pet names during sex, language throughout. possibly wrongly translated german (i'm learning)

author’s note : this plot has been in my head for a while so here i am. pls just indulge me w this bc i was having a moment while writing it

18+ below the cut ! MINORS DNI

༺═──────────────═༻

(Y/N) swears she won't have a voice come the morning.

As soon as the puck went into the net and the goal horn went off for the third time, she's been screaming in the suite with the other Devils wives and girlfriends. Her boyfriend just scored his first NHL hat trick and she couldn't be prouder of him. They're now up 5-2 on the Sabres with less than a minute left in the game.

Jack and Dawson have a goal each along with Nico's three goals. It's a four-point night for her captain boyfriend since he got an assist on Jack's power play goal. She remains standing until the final horn that signals the game is over. The Rock is buzzing as the Devils give Vitek some goalie hugs.

She records when Nico is announced as the first star of the game for his four-point night. The crowd cheers as loud as they did when Nico scored the hat trick. Her lips hurt from smiling for nearly ten minutes straight.

As soon as Nico skates off the ice, (Y/N) makes her way down to the players' lounge room that the wives and girlfriends usually hang out in before and after the game. She hangs out with Vitek and Erik's wives as she waits for the players to come in after they've changed and showered.

Notifications start coming through about a half hour after going to the players' lounge. A lot of notifications. New followers, lots of likes and comments on Instagram. A lot of mentions on Twitter. She has no idea what's going on.

(Y/N) reads one tweet that's in her mentions that has a clip attached to it.

vina @/hischiers i knew there were rumors but nico hard launching his relationship after the game was not something i expected to happen today of all days

She clicks on the clip of Nico in his postgame interview and watches it.

Amanda Stein asks off camera, "Did you have any friends or family present for the game today to witness your first NHL hat trick?"

Nico doesn't hesitate to reply, "My girlfriend came to her first Devils home game today." He smiles and bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, she, uh, this game was really special for me because she's here and she got to witness my first hat trick in person." He blushes and doesn't stop smiling in the clip.

"Oh my God," (Y/N) gasps as the clip restarts.

They never talked about going public with their relationship. They've been dating for about seven months. Nico is one of hockey's most popular players, and (Y/N) has seen how loved he is among the fans. She's basically a no one from Newark dating the captain of a hockey team in the NHL.

The players begin to make their way into the lounge area. They make their way to their wife or girlfriend or really whoever they invited to the game. Her eyes are on the door as she waits for Nico to come in.

Jack and Luke walk into the room with Nico five minutes after the rest of the team does. They're deep in conversation but she can't help but run over to her boyfriend and basically jump into his arms.

Both Hughes boys both laugh as Nico catches her and she wraps herself around him completely. He wraps his arms around her torso so she doesn't fall.

"Congratulations, baby," she says against his hair. It's still damp so he recently showered. "I'm so proud of you."

"Guess you're my good luck charm," he laughs in reply. (Y/N) pulls back so she can see his face and he looks genuinely happy. "I play a lot better when you're in attendance."

She shakes her head and smiles. "I think that's bullshit," she tells him. "There's a reason you're one of the league's best players since you came back from your injury. It's not because of me."

"I think you should come to more games anyway," Nico says. "Clearly I like when you come to games."

(Y/N) laughs and rests her hands where Nico's shoulders meet his neck. "I'll come to games whenever you want," she replies. "You like to show off when I come."

He smiles and nods. "I gotta show off for my girlfriend," he retorts. "Especially when she looks so good in my jersey."

"Flatterer," she laughs before she leans down and captures his lips in a soft kiss. Nico laughs into the next kiss before she pulls back and looks at him. "By the way, did you know you told the entire league and it's fans that you have a girlfriend during your postgame interview?"

"You saw?"

"It's all over social media, Nico. People are saying you hard launched our relationship."

She lets her legs drop and Nico lowers her to the ground. "There were rumors anyway," he replies. "It was bound to come out. Did it bother you? It just kind of came out when I was asked and I wasn't really thinking about the fact that we never talked about it."

"I just would've liked a little heads up," she tells him with a smile on her face. "Are you ready to go?"

He nods and begins to make the rounds to say goodbye to the Devils. She never lets go of his hand as he says goodbye to his teammates. It's his job as captain to tell the team how good they did so he doesn't forget about that. He congratulates Jack and Dawson on their goals before they finally head to the parking lot.

Nico drove them to the Prudential Center in his car so she sits in the passenger seat of the car so Nico can drive them to whoever's place is closest. Which is Nico's apartment.

As they leave the parking lot, Nico stops and says hi to some fans. Pictures are taken where (Y/N) is definitely in the background but at this point, she doesn't care. Nico already told the entire world that he had a girlfriend that was at the game.

He signs some jerseys and pucks, takes some pictures, and gets more than a few congratulations on his hat trick before Nico finally pulls out of the parking lot. He looks over at (Y/N), who gives him a small smile as they stop at a red light.

"You played really well tonight," she tells him. "I'm not just saying that because you had a four-point night but you played really well. I'm so proud of you for getting your first hat trick tonight. I can't believe that I was able to watch it happen in person."

Nico laughs and says, "I told you that you're my good luck charm. The first game you come to after we start dating and I score my first NHL hat trick. It's not a coincidence."

She shakes her head with a smile on her face and looks out the window until they get to Nico's. She plays with her thumbs under the sleeves of her too big jersey that Nico gave to her a few weeks ago.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the arena, Nico pulls into his apartment building parking lot and parks in his usual spot. Her car is parked next to his. They get out and begin the trip up to the top floor of the building where Nico lives.

The building is ten stories tall so it takes a minute for the elevator to get up to the tenth floor from the first floor. Their fingers are laced together the entire time.

(Y/N) follows close behind as Nico unlocks the front door to his penthouse apartment. She wraps her arms around his torso as he unlocks the door and presses her front to his back. "You can't wait until we get inside?" Nico asks as the stupid door finally unlocks.

"Nope," she replies, popping the "p". "I wanna show you how proud of you I am."

He laughs before he pushes the door open. (Y/N) stumbles inside after her boyfriend. She closes the door behind her and Nico presses her against it with his hands on her waist. She stares up at him like she’s challenging him to do something.

Nico looks her up and down. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you looked good in my jersey,” he tells her. His voice is deeper and accent thicker than it normally is. “I love seeing my name and number on your back. Knowing you’re mine. It’s so hot. You're so beautiful.”

“Do something about it.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper. She is absolutely challenging him at this point.

He leans down and captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her heart leaps in her chest when their lips touch. Her back hits the door with the force of the kiss and her fingers grasp at the collar of the jacket Nico is wearing. (Y/N) pulls him as close to her as she can get him.

He presses himself completely against her and slots a thigh between her legs. She has to resist the urge to grind up against his thigh to give herself some relief from the pressure that's building between her legs.

"Off," she mumbles as she pushes Nico's jacket off his shoulders. He helps her out and shrugs the fabric off. He kicks it to the side when it hits the floor and grabs her by the waist.

She pushes her waist off the door and they stumble toward the master bedroom where Nico sleeps. Their shoes are kicked off by the door and Nico's jacket is abandoned on the floor. He loses his tie in the living room and his button-up is lost in the hallway.

When Nico falls onto his back on the mattress, all he's wearing is his suit pants. Even they're unbuttoned and the belt is on the floor. (Y/N) looks down at her boyfriend on the bed and gnaws on her bottom lip.

Sometimes she doesn't know how she got so lucky. She fell in love with the most beautiful and loyal guy. He's captain of a NHL team but still manages to find time to see her whenever he can. He's a talented hockey player that fell in love with her.

She can't believe this is her life. Being able to fall in love with Nico has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. Being able to be loved by Nico is an honor.

"You okay?" Nico asks as he sits up. His hands run up and down the back of her thighs. "You look deep in thought."

"Just thinking," she tells him as she crawls onto his lap. She straddles his waist. "I don't know how I got so lucky to love and be loved by you. You could've fallen in love with anyone but you fell in love with me."

Nico smiles up at her and wraps his arms around her waist. "I fell in love with you because you are the most incredible and beautiful woman I have ever known," he replies. "You're so supportive of me despite my crazy schedule. I don't know how I got so lucky."

Her face gets hot as she smiles. "I'm proud of you, Nico," she says. "I am so happy that I get to see you grow as a person and a player." She leans down and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Gonna show you how proud of you I am."

She slides down to her knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her fingers work on unzipping his pants. She pulls Nico's pants and boxers off in one pull. His hard dick pops out of its prison and stands against Nico's stomach. (Y/N) throws them to the floor and kisses up the inside of his leg from his knee.

After placing a soft kiss to his hip bone, she takes him in her hand and gives him a few slow pumps. Nico grabs a pillow and uses it to prop his head up so he can see her without straining his neck. She smiles up at him before she takes him in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck me," Nico breathes out as (Y/N) moves her head up and down on him. "That mouth of yours feels so good, liebling."

(Y/N) loves it when Nico uses German nicknames on her, especially when they're in bed. They sound ten times hotter when her mouth is on him or when he's inside of her. There have been times when (Y/N) has been in control and Nico has been reduced to speaking his native language.

She'll never get enough of it.

One of her hands makes up for what can't fit in her mouth while the under snakes into the leggings she's wearing under the jersey. Her own fingers run through her folds and work her toward her orgasm. She lets out an occasional hum, which drives Nico crazy. She knows it drives Nico crazy by the way he squirms under her touch every time she does it.

Then she does the one thing she knows gets Nico to come almost as soon as she does it. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks before she swirls her tongue around the fire red tip.

"(Y/N), baby," Nico pants. "Gonna come in about two seconds if you keep doing that."

With a pop, she pulls off his leaking dick. She uses her tongue to get a bead of precum that was on the corner of her mouth. "We wouldn't want that to happen so soon now would we?" she asks as she stands up.

Nico's eyes widen as she begins to undress. The leggings come off first. She reaches down to pull the jersey over her head and Nico sits up quickly. "Uh uh," he says. "Jersey stays on."

"If you come on it, you better get me a new one," she tells him as he slides back on the bed. "I'm not walking into games wearing a jersey you came on." He laughs as he reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a foil package.

She finishes getting undressed but leaves the jersey on. Nico slides the rubber contents of the packages onto himself as (Y/N) straddles his thighs. He sits back against the pillow and headboard. She leans down and captures Nico's swollen lips in a tender kiss. He matches her pace and slowly kisses her back. He puts a hand on the back of her neck. His fingers curl into her hair.

All of her emotions are poured into this kiss. Her hands are on his jaw so he can't go anywhere. Not that he could go anywhere since she is sitting on his lap.

(Y/N) begins to move her hips slowly. She hums as Nico's dick slides through her folds and against her clit. A soft moan falls from her lips into the kisses she exchanges with Nico.

One of her hands leaves Nico's jaw and she positions him at her entrance. She presses a long kiss to his lips and leaves them connected as she slowly sinks down onto him. A whimper comes from her as the familiar pressure fills her. Nico takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth before he pulls back to look at her.

"You feel so good, schatzi," Nico tells her. "So good for me. You take me so well, you know that?" She replies with a soft hum as he completely fills her.

She allows herself a moment to adjust before she begins to roll her hips. Nico's hands fly to her thighs before sliding under the jersey to her waist. "Fuck, Nico," she breathes out as he moves in and out of her while she rolls her hips. Her hands are on his torso to keep her balance.

Slowly, she begins to pick up her pace. Moans fall from her lips the faster she moves.

One of the best things about being with Nico is how intimate these moments are. It feels amazing to be physically connected to him like they are one person. She wouldn't trade this for the world.

They fit together like two puzzle pieces. His hands fit perfectly on her waist. Their lips mold together every time they touch. The way his nose fits perfectly above hers when their foreheads touch is her favorite thing. She molds against his body every time they lay in bed together.

It's like they were made for each other.

"(Y/N), liebling," Nico breathes out. His eyes are on her as she rides him. "Ich liebe dich so sehr."

This is what she means. It's like he's forgotten how to speak English when they're in bed together. She loves it.

"I love you too," she pants because she's slowly been learning simple phrases and knows what Nico said. He tells her he loves her all the time in German. "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you. Fuck. You're amazing."

One of Nico's hands slide to the back of her neck and he pulls her down so their foreheads rest against each other. Her nose brushes his every time she moves. Her eyes close and Nico's thumbs brush her cheeks. "Open your eyes, baby," Nico tells her. "I want to see them. Please."

Her eyes open back up and meet Nico's big brown eyes. He smiles and she leans down to kiss him. She breathes hard into the kisses that are exchanged between them.

Nico takes advantage of the distraction and rolls them over so he's hovering over her. She smiles up at him until he begins to thrust hard and deep inside of her. A pornographic moan passes her lips and she arches her back to get closer to Nico.

He reaches between them and his fingers find her sensitive clit. She gasps when he touches the bud then whines when he begins to rub her closer to her pending orgasm. "Holy fuck, Nico," she cries out. "Keep going. Fuck."

Nico throws her legs over his shoulder so he can get a new angle and move even deeper into her. She has to bite her lip to keep from screaming his name as he begins to slam into her g-spot over and over again.

"Let me hear you, liebling," Nico says. "Don't hold back."

His pace quickens and she has to grab on to something. She chooses his hair when her hands slide up into his locks and her fingers curl. "I'm gonna come, Nico," she warns him. "Fuck, I'm close."

He keeps the same pace and uses his fingers to bring her over the edge. She comes so hard she sees stars. Her vision goes almost white and Nico's name passes her lips along with a string of curses. Her legs shake as they hang on his shoulders and she cries out as she has one of the most intense climaxes of her life.

Only Nico could ever get her to come like that. No one has ever made her come like that. No one besides Nico will ever get her to come like that.

There's a weight on her chest as she comes to and she realizes that Nico is lying on her chest. They're both panting messes as Nico gets off of her after resting for who knows how long. He ties off the used condom and tosses it into the trash can by the bed.

(Y/N) pulls off the jersey and takes off the bra she's wearing because she's sweating before she crawls under the blankets to cover her naked and spent body. Nico joins her and she rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes are on his the whole time. She traces little shapes on his belly.

"I think I got a little carried away," Nico admits. "I blame the jersey."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Good to know you have a thing for me wearing your jersey," she replies. "I'll have to remember that when you're having a bad day or you have a rough game."

Nico smiles and brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I really do love you a lot," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to the game tonight. It meant a lot to me that you were there to watch me score my first hat trick."

"Thank you for inviting me," she says. "I had a lot of fun watching you score your first hat trick. It was incredible."

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

Their night is nowhere close to being over. Nico has a day off so she is going to make sure she takes care of him and gives him whatever he wants for the rest of the night. All because of that hat trick.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #hockey smut #nico hischier #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier smut #nico hischer x reader

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lovesickhughes · 7 months ago

Note

Could you write about the reader comforting bedard about not making it to the playoffs

a/n: of course 🥺i hope you enjoy !! (not edited)

tags: connor bedard x reader

warnings: none ! just fluff

word count: 0.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you were stood outside the locker rooms alongside the other wives and girlfriends of the players, with few remarks being made amongst each other. usually, even if the hawks had tallied a loss to their record, conversations were still made, however with the team losing in overtime against the kings for their last regular season game, it was a different atmosphere.

you were able to hear the celebrations from the opponents from a distance as you all anticipated the departure of your significant others. you checked your phone absentmindedly to see if it would pass time, but you knew the coaches were making their final remarks as they reminisce their season. and disappointing loss. for the someone you waited eagerly to see, you knew it would be especially difficult for him, having it be his first national league season without making it to the stanley cup finals. of course he excelled in junior hockey, but for connor it was different now. his hobby, turned career was what he had worked for his entire childhood, and even though he had a great career ahead of him, it was inevitable for him to doubt his ability.

the players started rolling out of the guest team locker rooms, and the wives, girlfriends and other close members to the players gathered to console them, knowing it was a tough loss.

you grew impatient as you waited for connor to exit, but the familiar eyes caught yours as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, visibly sighing and letting his shoulders relax. you gave him a sorrow smile, with a downturn of the corner of your mouth as he came up to you.

"hey," you said softly, but before connor had the chance to process your greeting, he pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms tightly around your arms, embracing you as you instinctively hugged him back. his face fell into the crook of your neck and you felt him inhale your scent and his body relax, pulling you closer into him if it was even possible.

you then pulled away as he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed in disappointment. meeting your sympathetic eyes, he gave you what would barely be considered a smile, and you brought your hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his soft skin.

"i'm so proud of you, babe," you spoke in hopes of clearing the distraught look on connor's face. without speaking, he pulled you into a kiss that felt so intimate, so compassionate, filled with lust and desperation. you pulled away and immediately brought him back into a hug, letting him engulf your smaller size compared to him. when you pull away again, wanting urgently to make your way back to your hotel room, you rub up and down his arms, feeling the stiffness of his bicep muscles from under the fabric of his suit.

"let's go back to hotel, and we can order room service and find a good show to watch." you suggested as you nodded your head to the side in the direction of the exit.

connor nodded in agreement, not being able to find words as his reality settled.

the pair of you made your way to the rental car, hand-in-hand as you entered the arena's underground parking, and when you were situated in the vehicle, you immediately intertwined your hand with connor's again, not letting go the entire drive to the hotel.

you efficiently made your way up to your hotel room, swiping the key card, and flipping the lights on, while your boyfriend followed you sadly, like a puppy.

you took off your jacket that you had been wearing for the evening, and hung it on the hook near the door to your apartment, and turned back to find connor laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, with his hands tangled in his hair.

you walked over, placing yourself on the bed next to your boyfriend, and placed a consoling hand on his abdomen, which caused connor to meet your gaze with teary eyes.

"oh, babe," you cooed, leaning forward to attend to the saddened boy in front of you. you laid on his chest, having his arms fall from his hair, to wrap around your shoulder.

"it just sucks, y'know? i want to be the best i can possibly be, and it was just a tough loss today." connor confessed, you felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest up against your ear, and you nuzzled yourself closer to his warm body.

"i know, connor. but you've already made it to this point in your career and have been so successful at such a young age. one loss is only a step closer to success, and you have so much ahead of you." you responded, hugging him tighter.

"thank you, i know," connor spoke, placing a kiss on the top of your head, into your hair.

you sit up and look down at the boy beneath you, and smile, "why don't i go start the bath and we can have a nice, relaxing night?" you suggested, which earned a nod of a response from connor.

"you deserve it."

#connor bedard #connor bedard fic #connor bedard x reader #connor bedard imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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generalllimaginesss · 10 months ago

Text

Here’s a little piece based on Megan Moroney’s song Reasons to Stay.

Warnings: angsty bf! Jack, toxic relationship (you can usually tell if I’m depressed or not based on what I post lmao), but like this is really really toxic so don’t read if that’s a trigger for you. I think I made myself go crazy while rereading it.

Reasons to Stay

I asked Jesus for a sign

And today I haven’t cried

It’s only 2 p.m. but that beats yesterday

So I guess that’s a reason to stay

The status of having an NHL boyfriend was alluring to a lot of girls. The fame was something that always felt new, thousands of people, strangers, screaming the name that you hold near and dear to your heart. The money eased the fear of bills and gave a freedom the average person would never experience in their lifetime. The influence that you hold as a WAG always playing in the back of your mind anytime your finger hovered over a button to post a picture, wondering if the caption was classy enough to hold your status.

The truth is that looks can be deceiving. The girls that threw themselves at Jack made for a constant state of insecurities to pool in your brain, sloshing around anytime Jack was home late or turned his location off. The money bought things that made you smile, a Louis Vuitton here, a Mercedes there, but the feeling of being in debt to the man that let hate spew from his mouth anytime you accidentally stepped out of line pulled at your being, anxiety grasping at the freedom, one not capable of being present without the other.

Was it really freedom?

Was it the price of freedom?

Maybe.

Maybe the price was the amount of tears that flowed when he rejected an outfit for you to wear.

“You’re not leaving in that. I don’t date sluts and that makes you look like one,” his reasoning rang, slicing through your ears and bouncing around anytime you bought clothes.

Today was a good day, though.

He had kissed you goodbye, asking if you would be making dinner tonight.

He’d be home tonight, you thought, willing yourself to think positive and fighting against the urge to dwell on the fact that he had come home with a hickey the night prior. He insisted it was a hickey, but you weren’t too sure about that.

But he’s yours tonight, that’s all that matters. That keeps you going; the possibility that tomorrow he will be yours is your driving thought. So you went about your day as if the life you were living were a dream and that you were living the life as the girlfriend of a famous hockey player who made millions.

Maybe it’s normal to have to be small. Maybe you just have to compensate for the huge platform that he had. He had earned it after all.

Seriously, what did you do other than keep the house tidy and go to his games? That’s normal….right?

You just had to tell yourself that it would be ok. It would be harder and messier to leave than try to push through.

And when you’re drunk at 3 a.m.

You don’t call your ex-girlfriend

It’s been a couple months since you

Brought up her name.

So I guess that’s a reason to stay.

The guys had gone out after a win, guys only. No girlfriends or wives. That’s what Jack said, at least. They were celebrating the guys achievements, some records broken, and it was just for them.

That was fine with you. He had an amazing game: his second hatty of his career. He needed a night to let off some steam and just be a boy.

The picture of him and Nico with Jack’s ex looming in the background was just a coincidence, yeah? Jack said she was a puck bunny, so she’s probably just going from guy to guy.

As soon as he walked through the door, the smell of bourbon wafted through the air, attaching itself to every air molecule in the apartment and meeting you like a familiar friend. This wasn’t the first time he had come home in this state. It wasn’t even the 5th or 6th.

“You’re up,” Jack’s words were slower than normal, the effort to produce the words coherently proving to be more tasking than normal. He took in the view of you curled up in an Ugg blanket on the plush cushions of the couch, noticing the lines that the tears had been drawing for the past hour. He took note, but not responsibility. He told you where he was and what he was doing, no harm no foul.

“Just couldn’t go to sleep,” Your voice was weakened, something you despised about yourself. You used to view yourself as strong and independent. Sticking up for what was right was was something you took pride in, but being in a relationship with Jack had slowly chipped away at that, so nonchalantly that you were the skeleton of who you once were before you could do anything about it.

Jack’s balance teetered from the left to the right, making a ship at sea during a storm look like a walk through the park. He stumbled as he tried to take his shoes off, a cue that you learned meant you needed to help him.

He did so much for you, so would it really be awful to just help him out?

As you slipped one AirForce off, you took notice of the bruises that feathered his legs, probably from the intense game tonight.

You could feel courage bubble, coming to a boil before you made your next statement, “I noticed your ex in a picture that Nico posted…what’s that about?”

“Baby,” He slurred, attempting to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear but pulling it instead, kissing your forehead after you winced at the tension. “You’re the only one that matters,” And with that he sucked you right back into his intoxicating blue eyes. They held a secret confession of his love for you. One that only you could see and he could feel.

But you don’t try like you used to

You don’t look at me the same

You used to say you’re sorry, now

Whiskey’s what you blame

How much can a heart take

‘Til it’s really your last chance

I’m a giver, but I’ve given all I can

We both know that I ain’t one to walk away

But I’m runnin’ out of reasons to stay

Things hadn’t always been like this.

Jack hadn’t always been like this.

He used to surprise you at work with two dozen roses, or wrote sweet love notes on sticky notes and stuck them to your vanity. He used to put in effort.

He used to want you.

What were you thinking, of course he still wanted you. He wouldn’t be in a relationship with you for the whole world to see if he didn’t want you, right?

He hadn’t bought flowers in a long time, though, and the sticky notes had slowly made their way to a drawer for safekeeping, none there to replace them. The vanity was bare, loneliness radiating from it every time you passed it, the feeling resonating in your soul.

It was as lonely as you.

Jack had come home drunk again last night, the smell of the liquor laced the words he shot at you with a poison that made them burn when they hit you. Everything that came out of his mouth felt like lashes against your skin.

“You’re so fucking boring, Y/N! You think you’re so perfect and you’re not! You think you’re better than everybody around you, but you’re not! You’re a fucking bitch, you cunt!”

He went on like that for at least an hour, going on and on about how he deserved better, how he could have anybody he wanted but settled for you.

It hurt even worse because it was so untrue. You battled with yourself for years because you compared yourself to those around you constantly. Jack knew this. He had been there for your breakdowns when your family had made you feel like a disappointment, or when you never thought you would be as pretty or talented as the other girls in the hockey scene.

Did he just forget this?

How were you going to smooth this over with him?

It felt like all you did was make excuses for him just to be able to live with him.

Why?

How did he completely change you? Wreck you? He had gutted out who you once were and left the bare beams that held you up. He had conditioned you to allow him chance after chance, no matter how bad he had fucked up.

And you just let him.

As the sun played a game of peekaboo through the curtains, you had made up your mind that you couldn’t justify the way he was treating you anymore. It was wrong.

The smell of bacon and eggs lured you into the kitchen to see him shirtless, standing over the stove as he busied himself with making breakfast. His back muscles flexed as he maneuvered about the stove. He looked perfect, as if he hadn’t verbally assaulted you and your character last night.

Before you could say anything, he had sensed that he was being watched, catching a glimpse of you as he turned his head slightly to the left.

“Morning. Didn’t wake you up, did I?” His voice was raspy, probably from partying for most of the night, but it sounded like he cared. It was refreshing.

“N-no. Um, I just felt like I should get up,” Reassuring him felt like an attempt to just keep the peace. Don’t say anything to set him off, don’t be combative. He’s cooking breakfast for you, so everything’s ok.

“Good. Hey, about last night…I’ll be honest I don’t remember what I said, but if it was bad it was just from me drinking too much. The boys may have gotten me to drink more than I normally do…” he trailed off as he plated the breakfast he had made for you, placing it on a placemat at the bar and pouring a cup of coffee for you, 3 creams and 2 sugars.

He remembered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You walked to the bar taking a seat.

The morning consisted of the two of you genuinely enjoying the presence of the other, catching up on what’s going on in each other’s lives and promising to not let it get this way anymore.

Before Jack left for practice, he had placed a kiss to your lips ever so gently, “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sweet.

How was this the same Jack from last night?

You were sure that you had to be going crazy.

If I go find somebody new

I’d lose your mom and sister too

You know me and how much I hate change

So I guess that’s a reason to stay

And I ain’t perfect either, we all make mistakes

But that don’t change

The Michigan sunset was absolutely breathtaking. The orange and purple hues painting a picture so perfect that it could never be replicated on a canvas. The distant sounds of the guys on the lake could be heard in the distance, the chill of the wind carrying the hoots and hollers from the water to you and Ellen, sitting on the deck attached to the back of the house.

The smell of the deck and the sound of the hundreds of frogs from the water felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.

“Jack would probably kill me if he heard me say this, but I really hope you two get married soon. I’d love to have you as my daughter, you know? These boys are a lot sometimes…” Ellen chuckled as she nodded to the boys in the distance.

The comment caught you off guard, a response in favor felt forced, but how were you supposed to tell her that her son was making your life a living hell?

“You’d have to take that up with him,” You smiled at her, not revealing the relationship that was slowly eating away at you.

“I promised to never pressure them to do something that they weren’t ready for, so I’ll let him choose the right time. I just know we all love you. Anytime the other two call home they always ask how you’re doing. I know they talk to Jack about you, too. We didn’t think he’d ever be ready to settle down with a girlfriend, much less one as amazing as you,” She went on, pulling her jacket tighter around her as the absence of the sun left goosebumps on her skin.

“It’s getting cold out here, let’s head inside and you can help me make dinner. I believe we have some wine if you’d like some,” She stood up and headed to the kitchen, waiting for you to follow suite, you smiled.

It was almost a sad smile, grateful that even though Jack wasn’t the man he should’ve been for you, his family loved you. They made you feel safe and loved. They were a safe haven from the toxic tendencies that Jack had taken up when the two of you were in New Jersey.

“I’d love that, Ellen.”

The sound of bare feet padding rapidly against the blades of grass that ran from the dock to the deck made you and Ellen turn your heads towards the window, watching on as Quinn, Luke, and Jack were racing towards the house.

Luke won, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage against his shorter counterparts. Quinn came in second as Jack has tripped over himself.

“What’s for dinner?” Luke panted, reaching for a water bottle out of the fridge and attempting to sit on the couch.

“You’ll find out after you change out of your wet swim trunks,” Ellen gave him a stern look, him raising his arms in defense as he left to go to his room for dry clothes.

You felt an arm snake around your waist, the smell of lake water and sunscreen following behind it. At first you jumped, worried that you had done something wrong.

He chuckled at the sudden movement, not realizing that he was the problem.

“Jumpy, are we?”

You smiled, trying to not cause an issue with him.

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you to be so cold,” You felt nasty as you lied through your teeth.

After a few minutes, he finally decided to retreat to the shower to wash the day off of him. You took in your surroundings while he was away.

Quinn and Luke played the Xbox while Ellen prepared the vegetables for dinner and Jim smoked the meat outside. You had been loving this family for years now. You and Ellen had become so close, easily somebody you loved as if she were your own mother.

Jack wouldn’t be the only person that you would have to let go of if you were to leave. As much as you loved his family, it was only natural for them to take his side, something that you understood and admired. You could only wish somebody would take up for you no matter what, and he had 4 people willing to do that for him.

You couldn’t imagine the thought of having to start over with somebody new, having to meet their parents for the first time and being disappointed that they weren’t Ellen and Jim. Being disappointed that their siblings wouldn’t pay the extra money when they accidentally forgot to keep your Snapchat streak going since it was almost 4 years long. Quinn and Luke texted you almost as often as they texted Jack. You were like their sister.

The thought of starting over was enough to have tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. Whatever Jack had done, you couldn’t expect him to be perfect. He’s human, after all. You’d stay if it meant you could keep the Hughes in your life.

I'm runnin' out of patience

Damn, I hate to say it

I'm runnin' out of patience and grace and at the end of the day

Findin' last resort reasons we're okay

Ain't a good reason to stay

“Jack you have purple bruises all on your fucking neck! How stupid do you think I am?!” You barked at him as he sat on the couch facing you.

“Stupid enough to think this is the first time this has happened,” His smug smirk and body language made you want to hurt him. You wanted to hurt him as bad as he’s hurt you for so long now.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you, Jack Hughes. You are the most disgusting person I have ever met and I hope your life becomes a living hell that you can never get out of,” The words came out calmly despite their harsh meaning. It was eerie, making the hairs on Jack’s neck stand up.

“Where do you think you’re going,” He watched as you made your way to the shared bedroom, hearing the sound of a suitcase zipper open.

He jumped up, heading straight for you, but froze as he watched you throw clothes into the suitcase. When that one became full you found another one to shove your clothes into, until the only things left were things you didn’t normally wear.

“What are you doing?” He spat, realizing that the grip he had on you was being relinquished.

“What does it fucking look like? I’m done. I’ve gone crazy trying to love you and I want out. I can’t do this anymore!” You tried to yell, but your throat constricted as it tried its best to sob. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that, though. He had put you in this state of survival long enough.

“You’re going to regret this…” He trailed off, following you as you threw everything into your car.

“Maybe so, Jack. But I will never regret it as much as I regret falling in love with you. You are an awful person, and I hope everybody will see that one day,” You slammed the door shut and put the car in reverse.

As you made your way down the driveway and street, Jack’s figure became smaller and smaller. Nobody would ever make you feel this way ever again, and you felt sorry for whoever fell into the trap that is Jack Hughes after you.

HAHA IM SO SORRY!! Also this in no way reflects who Jack is in real life because I, obviously, don’t know him personally. This was so bad though, so I’m actually really sorry.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #jh86 #toxic relationship #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #megan moroney

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

Text

All For Us - Nico Hischier & Jack Hughes

summary: when Jack walks in on you and your boyfriend things that a turn when he is invited in to join.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem and male receiving), swearing, mild use of degradation (slut mentioned once).

word count: 2.71k

authors note: this was an idea I’ve been working on for days and I loved it. If nobody asks for that bucket list part I might actually cry… Kei this is the full thing of what I’ve been showing you! Part of me thinks I’ve forgotten how to write smut so if this was shit I’m sorry!

Nico swore you were his little goddess.

It seemed like everything he threw in your direction you succeeded at, and this was no different. With the team making playoffs Nico felt like it was his job to host the celebration for it.

And who better to be in charge of planning than his girlfriend of eight months, you. Luckily for Nico it was a job that you always did well at but tonight you seemed to hit it out of the park “you did so good baby.” Nico mumbled into your ear as his lips nipped at your neck.

The two of you were stood in the back of your shared apartment watching as his teammates interacted with their girlfriends, wives and other teammates “stop it Neeks.” You warned sending your boyfriend a serious look as he wrapped his hands around your waist.

You had been on your period for the last week and the week before that the boys were away for ten days. So to say that Nico felt deprived and horny “nobody would notice if we just went back to our bedroom.” The captain pointed out tracing his fingers on your stomach as it sent shivers up your spine.

It made you shiver “behave,” you shook your head pulling his arms off of your stomach as you stepped away “hi Jacky.” You smiled locking eyes with younger hockey player as he walked back inside of the apartment.

Jack tried to hide the fact that he had a crush on you “h-hi,” he stuttered cheeks turning pink.

The boy never said that he was good at hiding that. But in Jacks defence he was actually the one who introduced you to Nico when you were still in college working as a bartender in your free time “baby don’t punish me!” Nico groaned watching you wrap your arm around Jacks.

You turned your head to face your boyfriend as you stuck your tongue out at him “so what have you been up to?” You asked giving the Hughes boy your attention once more.

Part of you would have been proud to say that you lasted two hours before Nico’s advances came out on top “don’t you want me to make you feel so good?” Nico proposed digging his thumbs into your sides causing you to let out a whimper “you think you can get through this in twenty minutes?” You shot back scratching his jaw as you leaned against the counter.

It made the boy scoff “I could make you come in two.” He mumbled into your ear as you pushed off of the counter “gonna hold you to that.” You wanted to hate how Nico could get you feeling horny but as he pushed your buttons you knew you loved how well he knew you.

Nico smirked as you locked your hand with his “not a word,” you grumbled shaking your head as you pulled him in the direction of your room.

You sent one final look to your friends who were all so focused on themselves “think you can be quiet?” You asked making your boyfriend laugh.

His hands were on your hips as he pushed you past the door letting it shut behind you “you’re the one who is going to fucking scream.” Nico’s warning made your thighs clench together.

As you both made your way into your bedroom you dropped to your knees grabbing at his belt “uh uh baby,” Nico clicked his tongue as he took your hands in his “said this was for you.” The hockey player mumbled placing his hands on your shoulders giving you a soft push before your knees hit the corner of your bed forcing your upper body to land on the mattress with a bounce.

Nico took in the sight of your body as he smiled letting his fingers dance over the waist of your shorts “don’t tease me Neeks,” you begged getting cut off as his lips hit yours.

He swore he was going to melt tasting your cherry lipgloss on your lips “so fucking pretty.” Nico gasped pulling away as he went to focus his attention in your shorts.

You didn’t know what to grab as he hooked his finger in the band of your shorts taking your panties with it letting the fabric drag along your legs “so pretty.” The hockey player repeated blowing warm air on your slit as he went face to face with it “don’t make me wait.” You whined trying to drive your pussy in the direction of his face.

The hockey player rolled his eyes wrapped his arms around your thighs pulling you closer to him “don’t start thinking you’re in charge all of a sudden.” Nico warned not giving you enough time to argue back before he let his tongue lay flat against your slit as he licked the line from your pussy to your clit.

You gasped locking your fingers in his hair “oh god,” your eyes went wide as he sucked at your sensitive nub “it’s just me baby.” Nico spoke against your core sending shivers up your body.

That accompanied by his fingers that began to thrust into your pussy made you moan “don’t stop.” You begged grinding your hips against his face.

The sound of him sucking on your clit was like music to your ears as it was accompanied by his gaze that you felt in your soul “want you to look at me.” The boy mumbled punching your clit with his other fingers so you’d look at him “fuck Neeks.” You cried only begin able to watch him for a few seconds when his tongue went back to working on your clit.

After only a few weeks of being sexually active with you Nico learnt that the way to get you to your high the fastest was to have you watch him eat you out. There was something about having him stare back at you that made you come so much quicker “they can’t hear you over the music baby.” He reminding you as your hand slapped over your mouth.

As much as Nico wanted you to go all night he knew he only had a few minutes before someone would start thinking things “I’m gonna come.” You announced driving your head into the mattress as your hands gripped at the sheet beneath you.

It made Nico smile “let go for me baby,” his words were like music to your ears as you cried out in pleasure with your body shaking as you came.

Like always Nico helped you through it before you pulled his head up from between your thighs “you did so good baby,” he cooed capturing your lips in a kiss as you moaned teasing your release on his tongue.

The moment was one of many that you two usually shared after sex “oh shoot,” the door to your bedroom opened causing you both to whip your heads around to see Jack stood at your door “I should call you back.” He added quickly hanging up the phone as you two locked eyes with him.

It didn’t take Jack long to see that you weren’t wearing panties making his cheeks grow red as he froze with fear “you want him to stay for round two?” Nico asked turning his attention back to you.

Nico wasn’t one for sharing usually so it surprised you “really?” You cocked your head as he smirked “know you wanted a threesome for a while now.” Nico let his lips move down your neck “who better than to have it be the boy with a crush on you?” His words sent a chill down Jacks spine.

He had been caught.

You sent Jack a smile “why don’t you shut the door and come in?” You cocked your head being all friendly as Nico got up “you can suck him off.” Your boyfriend explained as he pecked your lips “this pussy is off limits,” he explained cupping your core as you gasped.

Jack almost felt jealous seeing how your boyfriend didn’t have to try hard to make you feel as good as he did “you’re gonna work for your second one tonight.” Nico’s words made you smile. You were getting your second favourite position tonight.

Reverse cowgirl was arguably one of your favourites as he had you bouncing your ass on his lower stomach as his fingers dug so hard into your sides you swore you were going to have bruises the next day.

As Jack walked closer you pulled him down by the collar of his shirt as you kissed his lips. It was softer than what you were used to with Nico but you also thought that the boy was probably holding back because your boyfriend was watching you “help him get undressed baby.” Nico ordered from behind you as he now lay naked on your bed.

You got off of your bed as you smiled “not fair having so many items on now is it?” You asked batting your eyelashes at him “fuck no.” Jack grunted as your hands undid his belt.

There was minimal lipgloss left on your lips but it had now been replaced by your come that Nico had on his tongue “you’re so hot.” The younger boys confession made you smile as his boxers hit the floor revealing his cock that hit his torso. From behind you the sound of Nico’s soft grunts could be heard as he obviously found this situation hot.

Jacks shirt was the last thing to go as you threw it across the room before he cupped your cheeks pulling you into another kiss “think you’re in too much now.” His voice was low as you raised your arms letting him pull your shirt over your head leaving you in your red bra that Nico loved “my dirty little slut knew she was gonna get fucked didn’t she?” Nicos voice reminded you that he was there.

You nodded letting out a whimper when Jack used one hand to undo your bra “fuck me.” His eyes went wide seeing your pierced nipple.

It was a surprise for Nico during one of the road trips “she loves getting her nipples sucked.” Nicos words shot to your core as you rubbed your thighs together watching Jack lower his head to wrap his lips around your nipple “fuck Jack,” you moaned tugging your fingers in his hair.

His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak letting the taste of the titanium bar linger on his tongue before he decided that he had enough “go sit on your boyfriends cock f’me.” He ordered taking you by surprise.

Nico let out a grunt when you didn’t move “listen to him princess when he tells you to do something.” Your boyfriends words made you turn around to him as you nodded making your way back over to the Swiss man on your bed.

You swung you leg over his torso bringing his cock up to tease your clit before you let your warm pussy sink down onto his cock swallowing it whole “fuck baby.” Nico moaned digging his fingers into your hips as you began to bounce on his cock.

Jack watched the situation in awe “c’mere Jack,” you whimpered opening your eyes as your hands gripped at your boyfriends thighs beneath you.

The Hughes boy made his way to you stopping between his captains legs “you think it’s hot watching your captain fuck his girlfriend?” You asked barely getting the words out before a moan left your lips hearing Nico grunt from behind you.

You ran your hand over his cock palming it as you waited for an answer “so hot,” he gasped when you removed your hand “don’t tease me,” Jack warned at your little kitten licks at his cock.

A smirk on your face was short lived when Nico landed a smack to your ass “when he asks you to do something baby you do it.” Nico ordered causing you to nod “sorry Neeks.” You mumbled letting your lips form a pout.

Your boyfriend laughed “don’t apologise to me,” he shook his head “apologise to the boy you’re about to suck off.” His coarse voice made you clench around his cock.

Jack ran his fingers through your hair as they formed a makeshift ponytail at the base of your hair “‘m sorry Jack.” You frowned continuing to bounce on your boyfriends cock “you know how to make it up to me pretty girl.” Jack voice had your pussy squeezing around your Nico’s cock as your lips wrapped around Jack’s.

The Hughes boy let out a grunt “see how lucky I am Jack?” Nico asked turning his attention to his teammate who was enjoying how your mouth took his cock.

Jack nodded seeing how you looked through your eyelashes “makes me feel spoilt knowing that I get this everyday.” Nico smirked as your moan was swallowed by Jack’s thrusts that went deeper into your throat “whenever I want.” He added clearly wanting to remind his teammate that you were still Nico’s and that he was sharing you for the night.

You honestly had to make a mental note to make Nico jealous sometime if he was going to talk like that as he fucked you as dirty talk was a totally new territory for you two “would have kept her a secret.” Jack confessed as you swirled his cock around with your tongue.

Nico let out a laugh “had to give my girl what she wanted.” Nico found your sex bucket list a month into your relationship and he decided that he would spend the rest of it helping you tick things off. The next thing on the list was sex in a public space and he had just the idea for that.

Both boys went quiet shortly after that as it was clear you were getting close as you were still sensitive from your first orgasm “you getting close baby?” Nico grunted feeling you clench around his throbbing cock.

Your head bobbed Jack’s as you nodded letting out a whine “just a little bit longer,” Jack was getting close but it seemed that neither boy wanted to come before you.

The air in the room was hot as the sound of skin slapping and male grunts bounced off of the walls “fuck baby.” Nico groaned hearing your gurgles around his teammates cock.

Neither boy thought that they could last much longer “I’m gonna come,” you cried feeling your vision go blurry.

Jack took over thrusting his cock into his hand “come on my face.” You barely got those words out coherently as Nico practically fucked you into oblivion.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck as your body shuddered “shit baby,” Nico was right behind you as your pussy clenched around him squeezing his cock as he shot his release into your pussy.

That finally gave Jack the green light as he shot his hot ropes of release spurting it onto your face with most of it landing in your mouth “swallow it baby.” Nico ordered smiling as you listened to him before you stuck your tongue out to show both boys that you had listened.

Nico slid his cock out of you placing you onto the bed as he got up “I’m gonna put you in the bath tell everyone you weren’t feeling well.” Nico explained seeing as your fucked out look was no state for you to be interacting with your friends.

You nodded sending Jack a smile as Nico picked you up “have a nice night Jack.” You send him a salute as Nico made his way to the bath tub that sat in your bathroom.

It had been about twenty minutes since Nico went back outside that he then came back into your bedroom “you have fun tonight?” Nico asked crouching down next to your bath.

Often times when he came back from road trips he’d sit by the tub catching you up on whatever the team did “thanks for letting that happen.” You nodded puckering your lips as you signalled that you wanted one “for you I’ll complete that list in a heartbeat.” Nico listened to your request as he pecked your lips.

“So what should we do next then?”

#nico hischier smut #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #amber writes fics

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sydnikov · 1 year ago

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Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

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