#but only for ice hockey teams that my mutuals are into

[you-will-return]

Seeing my sports mutuals post sports always makes me so insanely happy even though I have no idea what they're talking about, like: they sure are on the ice again tonight, huh?

[hearts4hughes]

WASHING MACHINE HEART | JACK HUGHES

fem!reader x jack hughes

summary: in which your entire heart was never enough for jack. (4.5k words)

author note: this is one of, if not my longest, writing pieces. it is very loosely based on washing machine heart by mitski. this took like two weeks to write and forgive me, i am NOT proofreading!! this is incredibly angsty so buckle up!

"jack?" your brows furrow, eyes squinting in confusion. "what are you doing here?"

he never showed up unannounced. did you miss his text or call? who are you kidding? you’d never dare to miss one of his calls.

you were in love with jack hughes. every single ounce of your body was drowning in your love for the brunette boy. you memorized every facial feature, mannerism, and breath he had. nothing about him went unnoticed to you.

if only he held mutual feelings. he loved you, he truly did. but not in the way you yearned; not in the way you craved. while your eyes followed him, it seemed like he followed every other girl.

you and jack met in the ninth grade. he was failing in every class possible (besides physical education) and you were excelling in every class possible (including physical education). in jack’s mind, he didn’t need school or an education. he was going to the nhl in a few years, so why did it matter if he was smart or not? the only iq that mattered on the ice was hockey iq.

the only problem was school rules and regulations. if he wanted to continue playing on the high school hockey team, he needed to step it up academically. with a stubborn attitude, he signed up for tutoring and was assigned you as his tutor.

you were roped into becoming a tutor by both your parents and your teachers. the school was running low on anyone willing to sign up for after—school tutoring, and you needed a little extra cash.

every tuesday and thursday, you went to jack’s house and studied with him for hours. however, as days passed into weeks, you began going over to his house every day. with his charming personality and your shyness, you quickly fell into the best kind of friendship. it only took two months before you fell in love with your best friend, and you’ve held those feelings for nine years.

"y/n, i’m sorry i didn’t call before," he apologized, his face flushed. "i have a problem," he huffed out, taking a seat on your couch.

"what are you talking about?" you scratch your neck in confusion. "and did you run here?"

when you and jack both moved to new jersey, it wasn’t a surprise when you moved into apartments within six minutes of each other.

"yes, i ran here," he answered. "but that doesn’t matter. i ran into lola at a coffee shop this morning.”

lola was jack’s most recent girlfriend. that was until she broke up with him because he wasn’t mature enough. he was heartbroken and devastated, and like the good friend you are, you held him during the hard nights as he cried and ranted about how he missed her. you ended up helping him move on after a month or two, but what made him stronger only destroyed you more.

you sighed, "jack, i don’t want to hear this—"

"no, i promise this is going somewhere," he interrupted. "i saw her and we began talking about my cousin, natalie’s wedding. she’s known natalie since high school and is attending the wedding. when she said that, i got nervous and said i was also going and i was bringing you as my date."

your heart plummeted. "what?!" your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

he squinted his eyes, lips pressed tightly together. “i’m sorry.” he said with doe eyes. he knew exactly how to make you fold. “you know how she is. she was all over me and acting flirty, like she wasn’t the one to break up with me. she thinks that i’m still not over her.”

“well, are you?”

“i think so.” his voice was unsure. “will you help me, please?”

“i don’t know—”

“before you say no, remember when i drove over here at 2am with ice cream?” he says.

your shoulders slouched. “yes,” your voice was quiet.

“remember how i said you owe me one?” you shook your head as you replayed the past interaction in your head. “well, consider this me officially cashing in my favor.”

you rested your head in your hands. “what does this entail?” you asked.

his eyes lit up like a child’s on christmas day. “you pretending to be my girlfriend for a day.”

you exhaled loudly. every bone in your body was saying— screaming— no. your brain knew it wasn’t a good idea. it would only draw you deeper into jack’s web when you were beginning to unravel from it. but your heart said otherwise.

“fine.” you said as you rubbed your temples.

jack shot to his feet with a bright smile on his mouth. “yes!” his voice was an octave higher. his arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. your stiffened body molded around him.

“fuck, i love you so much for this.”

he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him to, but you’ve learned to ignore the twinge in your heart when he says those magic words.

you don’t realize how fast your heart is beating until he pulls away from the hug. your body aches for him as he removes his arms from around you.

“since, i’m already here movie night?” he asks, his brow quirking upwards.

a giggle escapes your slouched body. for the first time since he got there, you smile— genuinely. he seems to notice as well because he mirrors your features, allowing his tense shoulders to drop.

you nod, plopping down on your couch with him. you hand him the tv remote, allowing him to put on whatever action/mobster movie that he usually did. your head rests on jack’s shoulder, an intimate action that meant more to you than it did to him.

this is what you wanted. this is what you’ve wanted since ninth grade. you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted. does it matter if your relationship with him is real or not? the more you think, the bigger the pit in your stomach grows. you ignore all impending thoughts and enjoy the feeling of your head resting against the love of your life’s shoulder.

you fall asleep against jack, soft snores falling from your pouted lips. when you wake up, you’re tucked in your bed, your alarm clock reading 2:30am, and a note with jack’s sketchy handwriting on your bedside table. you smile, a content feeling masking your earlier anxieties before you fall back into a deep slumber.

~

after an hour of painstakingly going over wedding details and weaving elaborate fake relationship stories, a dull ache pulses behind your temples, and the confines of your clothes suddenly feel suffocating.

“are we done yet?” your voice was whiney as you dramatically sat back in your chair.

jack giggled. “who knew that relationship talk would bore you?” you rolled your eyes. “if my family wasn’t so nosey, this would be a walk in the park,” he begins, “but they are and that means we have to tie up every loose end before they ruin our entire plan.”

you groaned. “we have enough chemistry for them to believe it, jack.” you said pointedly, your leg bouncing up and down under his dining room table.

“i guess.” he shrugged a smirk on his face. “but what we have is platonic chemistry. we need romantic, honeymoon phase chemistry.”

your fingers picked at the skin around your painted nails. blood pooled in your cuticle but you paid no mind to it, subconsciously wiping it against the denim of your jeans.

every muscle in your body tensed. platonic chemistry— the only thing you and jack possess. the subtle comment twisted your stomach— the contents from the meal before threatening to spew out.

“i, uh, have to go to the bathroom.” you blurt out, quickly leaving the seat and entering into his bathroom.

his brows furrow at your abrupt exit. “ok…”

his bathroom was cold and plain. you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you swallow harshly.

why were you doing this? why put yourself through the emotional turmoil only for jack to pretend to be in love with you? were you this desperate?

you raked your brain for any coherent answer—one that you would never find.

turning on the faucet, the icy water coated your shaky hands. you splashed some water on your flushed face—good thing you wore waterproof mascara today. quickly, you patted yourself dry, hopefully appearing more relaxed than before.

as you walk back into his dining room, jack’s faint laughter fills the room. it bounces off of the walls in a symphony of beauty. you crave his laughter like a bee craves honey. jealousy courses through you as he isn’t laughing at your joke.

he sits at the table, his phone in hand as he types on his screen. his lips are pulled upwards into a boyish grin, a pink color coating the apples of his cheeks.

his gaze adverts from his phone to you as you awkwardly stand, almost as if you were waiting for his approval to sit. “sorry, it’s just lola.”

your shoulders slouch.

you’ve met lola before. she never seemed humorous to you. she couldn’t have possibly said something that funny that he’s laughing out loud.

then it all became clear. you were merely a scheme to get her back. he wasn’t over her— he never was.

“can i ask you something?” you said while sitting in the chair beside him.

“mhm.” his attention isn’t even focused on you. silently, you scoff.

“you know what, i’m just going to head home.” you said, your voice sharp. immediately, jack put down his phone.

his forehead was creased from the furrow of his brows. “are you ok?” he mirrored your actions, standing up alongside you.

you mumbled in response, collecting your things and heading towards his front door. his hand clasped against your wrist, halting your movement. you huffed, looking back at him.

“did i do something?”

“no, jack.”

“then why are you acting like this?”

“i didn’t sleep well last night. i just want to take a nap.” you said simply. his face contorted. you were never the best liar.

“worm,” the nickname rolls off of his tongue like silk, but pierces your skin like shattered glass. it was short for bookworm— something classmates would teasingly call you. you never liked it when people said it, not until jack did. “just tell me what’s wrong.”

“are you using me as a pawn to get lola?” his face paled as the words left your lips. his hands clasped into fists and he cleared his throat.

“no.” his eyes avoided yours. “why would you think that?” he asked.

“i just want to make sure that we’re still going to be friends after this.” you spoke. “after all, i don’t think lola’s going to want me to be close with you after this.”

“good thing we aren’t together anymore and it will stay like that.” he mustered up the fakest smile. “see you on saturday, yeah?”

you sighed, “yeah.”

~

kissing wasn’t something foreign to you. your first kiss was in tenth grade with jake hopkins. he had blue eyes, curly brunette hair, and a similar name to jack. your kiss with him was enough to distract you from jack’s newest conquest with gina— an eleventh grade blonde who resembled a real life angel. she was older, which jack didn’t always like, but he made an exception for her.

kissing was something you were used to doing. you hadn’t been in a lot of serious relationships, but you kissed people often. however, the thought that you and jack might kiss today made your stomach do a somersault. suddenly, you knew nothing about kissing. it was as foreign to you as an alien to earth.

swiping on the darker shade of lipstick, you hoped for a confidence boost. you don’t usually wear this lipstick shade. holly, your best friend and roommate, convinced you to buy the overpriced makeup a few weeks ago. she said it would make you look sexier, more mature. you wondered if jack would like this shade. lola often wore darker lipstick. it looked good on her plump lips, but maybe a little less once left on jack’s cheek. it always made you cringe when she would press her lips against his, leaving a smudged lip print. jack knew it was there and he didn’t mind. if wore it proudly like a badge of honor, not caring what teasing remarks his teammates would make.

“i can’t believe you’re doing this for him.” holly said. she was clad in your pajama bottoms and sweatshirt, sprawled out across your bed.

“well, he is my childhood best friend.” you reply as you grab towards your perfume, spraying it across your body. you stood up, looking at yourself in the full length mirror.

you wore a maroon, silk, maxi dress. it accentuated every curve on your body, fitting you like a glove. the deep colored dress was captivating with a slit going up your lower body, showcasing your legs.

holly mutters something incoherent under her breath— you can’t quite hear what she said, but you can only imagine.

“you look like a fucking goddess.” she stood next to you, holding your arm up and twirling you around. giggles escaped your lips. “i just wish you were going out with a guy who actually appreciated you. not one who used you like this.” the corners of her lips turned downwards into a frown.

you turn to respond to her, to defend jack, but as you do, the doorbell rings.

“that’s him.” you waste no time running towards the door and opening it for him. he wore a maroon tie that matched perfectly with yours, his hair touseled, and his face clean shaven.

“hi.” you smile, your eyes trailing up and down his body. he looked godlike. “you look great.”

“thank you.” his cheeks blushed red. “you look beautiful, worm. i mean it.”

your entire body felt warm. you hadn’t even touched him and yet sparks traveled through your body. he knew you were beautiful— he even thought it— but he still didn’t want you.

holly trailed behind you, watching the interaction from the kitchen. she shook her head before returning to her room.

“we should get going.” jack clears his throat.

"yeah, we should," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

jack leads you to his car, a black range rover that’s evident he takes proud in. he opens the passenger door for you, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter, and then quickly hops into the driver's seat. as he starts the engine, you can feel the tension in the air.

"so," jack begins, glancing over at you, "let's go over the details one more time."

you nod, pulling out your phone to check the notes you had made earlier. "okay, so we've been dating for six months. we’ve always had feelings for each other,, and it was kind of a whirlwind romance," you start, reading off the fabricated history you both had created.

jack smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "right, and we decided to keep it quiet because we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"exactly," you continue, "and we've spent a lot of time together, just not always in public. but your family knows me very well, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince them."

he nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "and we're really happy together," he adds, his tone softening. "like, really happy."

your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice. a part of you feels it’s real— though you know it's all part of the act. "yes," you agree, trying to keep your voice light. "happier than i've ever been."

jack glances over at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "you're a great actress, you know that?"

you laugh, a sound that feels both forced and genuine at the same time. "thanks."

in a way you were an actress— well, most of the time. in your everyday life with jack you played the part of a best friend who only held platonic feelings. you had mastered that part. here, now, however, there is no acting. you are entirely devoted to jack. anything you say, any touch you bestow, will be a look into your heart.

the rest of the drive, you both fall into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts. the gps guides you to a large, elegant house adorned with white ribbons and flower arrangements.

"we're here," jack says.

you take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. "okay, let's do this."

jack steps out of the car and quickly comes around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. you take it, your fingers curling around his as you step out of the car. his touch is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, you allow yourself to savor the feeling.

as you walk towards the entrance, jack squeezes your hand gently. "ready?"

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "ready."

the moment you step inside, you're greeted by a flurry of activity. guests are milling about, chatting and laughing, the air filled with the sounds of celebration. jack's family members quickly spot you and rush over, their faces lighting up with genuine happiness.

"jack! y/n!" ellen exclaims, pulling you both into a warm hug. "it's so good to see you two together!"

you smile, slipping into the role effortlessly. "it's great to see you too," you reply, squeezing her hand.

as more family members gather around, asking questions and showering you both with affection, you can feel jack's hand on the small of your back.

throughout the evening, you and jack move seamlessly through the crowd, sharing inside jokes, laughing at shared memories, and playing the part of the perfect couple. there are moments when you catch his gaze, and for a split second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be more than just an act.

but then you see lola, standing across the room, her eyes locked on jack. her presence is a stark reminder of the reality of your situation. jack's smile falters for a moment when he sees her, and you can see the conflict in his eyes.

it’s not long before lola stalks over in your direction. she stands tall in a yellow maxi dress, matching with the rest of the bride's maids. the color makes her tan skin shine. she’s the epitome of sunshine.

she greets, “jack.” her gaze lingers on jack, the corners of her lips curving into a devilish smirk.

suddenly, he drops your hand. you suck in a sharp breath, looking down at his hand besides yours. his hand is flexed. you attempt to steady your breaths.

“hello, lola.” he replies. her name slides off his tongue so perfectly. he says it seductively and yearningly. his eyes brighten and cheeks gain more color. he stares at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “you remember y/n, don’t you?”

as he says your name, neither the glimmer in his eye or the blush on his cheeks intensify. it falls off his tongue in a casual way, with no clues or cliffhangers left behind.

she chuckles, the sound bouncing off of the walls and reaching your ears like both a blessing and a curse. “i remember her very well.” she doesn’t leave it there. “though, last time i saw her, she was your friend and i was your girlfriend. funny how the tables turn.”

as if on cue, both of your bodies stiffen, the action obvious enough for her to stifle out a laugh.

“calm down, i’m just joking.”

“it’s nice to see you again.” you say, ignoring the burning sensation in your stomach. she looks you up and down, a look of indifference placed on her perfect face.

it’s almost like she can read you. she looks so majestic, you wouldn’t put it past her to behold a supernatural ability.

“it’s a pleasure to see you always, y/n.” she grins. in the background, the dj changes the upbeat music to a slower, romantic song. the atmosphere around you shifts to the music. “slow dances are starting! i want to see you love birds on the dance floor.” her comment comes out snarky, but jack is too captivated by her to notice.

lola’s small figure disappears in the sea of people on the makeshift dance floor.

“wanna dance, worm?” jack asks with a sly grin. his hand picks up yours again.

“i thought you’d never offer.”

he tugs at your hand, pulling you towards an open spot on the dance floor. as you step onto the dance floor with jack, the soft melody of lover by taylor swift fills your ears. jack's hand feels warm and reassuring in yours, but as you glance up at him, you can't shake the thought of how he dropped your hand.

"this song... it reminds me of lola," jack murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “it’s stupid, but this song was playing when we met, so it’s always resonated with her.”

you nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "yeah, i can see why. it's a beautiful song," you reply, trying to mask the ache in your chest.

it was like the universe was playing a prank on you. lover was your song, not theirs. the second it was released you fell in love with it. it was the very song you listened to when you still had hopes of a relationship with jack.

as you dance, jack's gaze keeps drifting towards where lola dances. she sways back and forth with the groom’s best man. everytime she laughs, jack’s jaw clenches.

you try to push aside the rising tide of emotion, focusing instead on the feel of jack's arms around you and the gentle sway of your bodies. but with each passing moment, the resentment grows, threatening to consume you from within.

“jack, can you at least pretend you want to be here with me?” your voice was sharp.

pity spread on his face like a wildfire. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s fine.” you mutter through your teeth.

he didn’t respond, although the dim glimmer in his eyes revealed his guilt.

from the outside looking in, this seemed like a romantic, loving dance between the perfect couple. but that couldn’t have been more wrong.

as the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull away from jack, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of hurt and anger. "you lied to me, jack." you accuse, your voice barely above a whisper.

jack's expression softens, his eyes clouded with regret. "y/n, i'm sorry," he begins, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

"i don't want to hear it," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "i thought... i thought you cared about me. the only reason i’m here is to make her jealous.”

jack reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away, your heart heavy with disappointment. "i know," he says softly, "and i'm sorry. i just... i can't help how i feel."

you take a step back, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. "i understand," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.”

“you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me, y/n. we’re only friends.”

the words hit you hard because it’s the truth. you and jack are only friends.

with that, you turn and walk away. you hear jack yelling your name as he races after you, but you ignore it. you get as far as the parking lot before his hand clasps around yours, pulling you back into his chest.

“what do you want?” you shouted. “what do you want from me, jack?”

“i don’t know.” he admits.

“exactly.” you point your finger at him. “you don’t know what you want, so you play with my feelings; you manipulate me; you flirt with me, tell me you love me, but then somehow remind me that we’re only friends.”

he stands there, speechless and guilty. his gaze stays glued to the concrete.

you let out a sharp, bitter laugh, your eyes flashing with anger. “you’ve known this entire time that i love you, and you still invited me here.” your eyes are dark with rage. “you have known your motive since before we got here and completely disregarded how it would break me.”

“worm,” he softens his voice.

“don’t call me that.”

“c’mon, don’t be like this.” he says. his hand reaches out to intertwine with yours, but you pull away.

“jack, i would do anything for you unbiased to my feelings because i thought you cared.” your voice grows weaker. tears flood your eyes and stream down your face. “but now i’m seeing the real you and it fucking sucks.”

you step back from jack, tears streaming down your face, as he stands there speechless, his guilt palpable in the air. the weight of his actions hangs heavy between you.

"i hope you're happy now because you have finally pushed me away," you choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. “goodbye, jack.” with that, you turn and walk away, leaving jack standing in the parking lot, his mouth hanging agape.

as you make your way to the street, you pull out your phone and quickly hail an uber. the car arrives, and you climb in.

as the car pulls away from the curb, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. you did the unthinkable.

you untangled yourself from jack’s web.

[estapa-edwards]

RIVALS - J. HUGHES

paring: jack hughes x reader

word count: 2.3k

requested? yes - jack falling in love with his rival player from the rangers and the media and everyone alwyss comparing the two and they like to tease each other back and fourth and people think they are enemies but really they have been friends since they both moved away from their families to jersey and york, they ended up living in the same building and became good friends despite the rivalry, they just love to tease each other on the ice and making everyone speculate, something important goes on and jack brings her as his plus one and he is like she’s been my gf for years didn’t you know?

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

As I lace up my skates in the familiar locker room of Madison Square Garden, I can feel the buzz of anticipation coursing through me. Tonight, like every other night when we face off against the New Jersey Devils, the media will paint our matchup as an epic clash between bitter rivals. They'll hype up the drama, the tension, the supposed animosity between me, Y/N, of the New York Rangers, and Jack Hughes of the Devils. But what they don't know is that behind the scenes, Jack and I are actually good friends.

It's funny how things work out sometimes. We met shortly after we both moved away from home to pursue our hockey dreams. Fate seemed to have a sense of humor when it placed us in the same apartment building. At first, we were just acquaintances, nodding at each other in the elevator or exchanging small talk in the lobby. But as time went on, our friendship blossomed.

Jack is one of those people who's impossible not to like. He's got this infectious energy, always cracking jokes and keeping everyone around him in high spirits. And despite being fierce competitors on the ice, off the rink, he's one of the most genuine and down-to-earth guys I've ever met.

--

From the moment we stepped onto the ice as rookies, Jack and I knew that we were destined to be compared and contrasted by the media. They loved to pit us against each other, to scrutinize every goal, every assist, every move we made on the ice. And as much as we tried to brush it off, it was hard not to feel the weight of those expectations.

But amidst the chaos of the rivalry, Jack and I found something unexpected: a genuine friendship. It started with small gestures – a friendly nod during warm-ups, a quick word of encouragement after a tough game – but it quickly grew into something deeper. We discovered that we had a lot in common, both on and off the ice, and that despite wearing different jerseys, we shared a mutual respect and admiration for each other's talents.

As our friendship blossomed, we found ourselves gravitating towards each other more and more, seeking refuge from the pressures of the rivalry in each other's company. We'd sneak away from the prying eyes of the media and our respective teams' management to grab lunch together or hang out at one of our apartments, swapping stories and jokes like old friends.

Of course, we knew that our friendship had to remain a secret. Our PR managers made sure of that, reminding us constantly that we were supposed to be bitter rivals, not bosom buddies. But in a strange way, the secrecy only made our bond stronger. It was like we were in on this big, inside joke together, sharing a secret that no one else knew.

And so, we became experts at playing our parts. We'd exchange playful jabs during interviews, making sure to throw in a few subtle digs to keep up the facade of animosity. We'd celebrate our victories against each other on the ice with exaggerated displays of triumph, all the while exchanging knowing looks behind the scenes.

---

As rookies, stepping onto the ice for the first time felt like stepping into a pressure cooker. The weight of expectations hung heavy in the air, fueled by the constant comparisons and contrasts the media loved to draw between Jack and me.

"Hey, Y/N," Jack called out as we lined up for warm-ups before our first game against each other. His voice cut through the tension, and I turned to see him flashing a grin. "You ready to show the world what we're made of?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his infectious enthusiasm. "You bet, Jack. Just don't expect me to go easy on you out there."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a playful wink.

And so it began – a friendly rivalry that would soon evolve into something much deeper. As the games went by, Jack and I found ourselves drawn to each other, seeking solace from the relentless scrutiny of the media in the comfort of each other's company.

"Rough game out there, huh?" Jack said one night, catching me in the hallway outside the locker rooms after a particularly grueling match.

I nodded, grateful for the chance to decompress with someone who understood the pressures we faced. "Yeah, tell me about it. I swear, they're never gonna let us live this one down."

Jack chuckled, clapping me on the back in a show of solidarity. "Well, at least we can commiserate together, right?"

And so our friendship blossomed, forged in the fires of competition and camaraderie. We'd steal moments away from the prying eyes of the media, grabbing lunch together or hanging out at one of our apartments, swapping stories and jokes like old friends.

"Man, I can't believe we have to keep this friendship a secret," I grumbled one day as we lounged on Jack's couch, watching highlights from our latest game.

Jack shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Eh, adds to the intrigue, don't you think? Besides, it's kinda fun having our little secret."

I had to admit, there was something exhilarating about sneaking around like a couple of teenagers with a forbidden romance. It made our bond feel even more special, like we were part of some exclusive club that no one else could join.

Of course, playing our parts as bitter rivals wasn't always easy. We'd exchange playful jabs during interviews, throwing in a few subtle digs to keep up the facade of animosity.

"Y/N, what do you have to say to Jack Hughes, who claims he's going to outshine you on the ice tonight?" a reporter asked during a post-game press conference.

I shot Jack a knowing smirk before turning back to the camera with a smirk of my own. "Tell him he can try, but he's gonna have to get past me first."

Jack laughed from his seat beside me, the tension in the room dissipating as we shared a private joke

--

As much as we excelled at maintaining the illusion of rivalry in public, it was behind closed doors where our friendship truly flourished. Away from the prying eyes of the media and the expectations of our teams, Jack and I could be ourselves without reservation. We'd spend hours talking about everything and nothing, sharing our hopes and fears, our triumphs and struggles.

There was a comfort in knowing that we could let our guard down around each other, free from the pressures of being seen as rivals. In those moments, it was easy to forget about the intensity of the rivalry and just enjoy each other's company. Whether we were binge-watching our favorite TV shows, cooking dinner together, or simply lounging around, every moment spent with Jack felt like a welcome reprieve from the chaos of our professional lives.

And yet, even as we reveled in our friendship, there was always an underlying tension – the knowledge that our bond had to remain a secret. It was a constant balancing act, navigating the delicate line between friendship and rivalry, always mindful of the consequences if our true relationship were to be revealed.

But despite the risks, our friendship only grew stronger with each passing day. We became each other's confidants, sharing our deepest thoughts and feelings with a level of trust and understanding that went beyond words. And as much as we cherished our time together off the ice, there was something uniquely special about the moments we shared on it.

On game days, when the arena was buzzing with excitement and anticipation, Jack and I would find ourselves locked in a silent battle of wills. We'd exchange knowing glances across the ice, each one a silent reminder of the bond we shared. And when the puck dropped and the game was underway, it was like we were playing our own private game within the game – a subtle dance of friendship disguised as rivalry.

But no matter how convincing our performance was for the outside world, there were moments when our true feelings would slip through the cracks. A shared smile after a particularly well-executed play, a quick pat on the back after a hard-fought battle – these were the moments when our friendship shone brightest, illuminating the darkness of the rivalry that surrounded us.

--

The locker room is quiet, the only sound the faint echo of distant celebrations filtering through the walls. I sit alone on the bench, still basking in the afterglow of our victory over the Devils. It had been a hard-fought battle, but in the end, we'd come out on top, securing another win for the Rangers.

I'm lost in my thoughts when I hear the door creak open, and I glance up to see Jack standing in the doorway, a hesitant smile playing at the corners of his lips. Everyone else has already left, leaving us alone in the quiet solitude of the locker room.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," I reply, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with your team."

Jack shrugs, taking a few cautious steps into the room. "I needed to talk to you."

My curiosity piqued, I gesture for him to take a seat beside me on the bench. "What's on your mind?"

He hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering uncertainly as if searching for the right words. And then, in one swift motion, he crosses the distance between us and takes my face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips against mine.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as the world falls away around us. I'm too stunned to react, too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions coursing through me. But as his kiss deepens, I find myself melting into his embrace, the weight of our shared secret finally lifting from my shoulders.

When we finally pull apart, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, I meet Jack's gaze with a mixture of surprise and longing. "I didn't know you felt that way," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

Jack smiles, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I've been trying to tell you for months," he admits, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my cheek. "But I never had the courage until now."

I reach out to take his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together with a sense of newfound clarity. "I'm glad you did," I say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Because I feel the same way."

-- 

As the seasons passed, Jack and I found ourselves navigating the complexities of our newfound relationship with a sense of cautious optimism. We were no longer just friends who shared a secret bond; we were now a couple, bound together by love and mutual respect.

But as much as we reveled in our newfound happiness, we couldn't escape the ever-present shadow of the rivalry that loomed over us. Our teams, our fans, and the media all seemed determined to keep us apart, to maintain the facade of animosity that had defined our relationship for so long.

We knew that our relationship had to remain a secret, at least for the time being. Our PR managers had made that abundantly clear, reminding us constantly of the consequences if our true feelings were ever to be revealed. And so, we continued to play our parts, keeping our love hidden behind a carefully constructed facade of rivalry and competition.

But as the years passed and our relationship continued to flourish, it became increasingly difficult to keep our secret under wraps. We longed to share our love with the world, to finally break free from the constraints of the rivalry that had kept us apart for so long.

And then, one day, an opportunity presented itself that we couldn't ignore. Jack had been invited to a prestigious event, a gathering of the league's top players and executives, and he had been given the chance to bring a guest as his plus one.

As we stood outside the doors of the grand ballroom, Jack turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

I nodded, my heart pounding in anticipation. "I'm ready," I replied, squeezing his hand tightly in mine.

And with that, we stepped inside, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As we made our way through the crowd, heads turned and whispers followed in our wake. But Jack didn't seem to notice, too caught up in the moment to care about the opinions of others.

And then, when we reached the center of the room, Jack turned to me with a smile that lit up his entire face. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice ringing out clear and confident. "I'd like you to meet someone very special to me. This is Y/N, and she's been my girlfriend for years. Didn't you know?"

The room fell silent, the air thick with shock and surprise. But as I looked around at the stunned faces of our peers, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. We had finally broken free from the shackles of the rivalry, and nothing – not even the expectations of others – could hold us back any longer.

As Jack wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, I knew that our love was stronger than any rivalry, stronger than any obstacle that stood in our way. And as we danced together in the center of the room, surrounded by the whispers of our peers and the glow of the evening lights, I knew that we were finally free to be ourselves – together, forever.

[diorsluv]

infrunami (lh⁴³)

❝ in which you’ve always been in love with your childhood best friend, but he would always be the right person at the wrong time ❞

wc: 5.8k

warnings: god there’s so much angst, reader is kinda inconsistent, mentions of blood/injury, mutual pining, idiots in love, running away from “rejection”, reader is touchy with jack and besties with quinn, no use of y/n, if i missed any lmk!!

notes ) when i tell you this took me WEEKS and WEEKS just to compile a simple 5k fic.. i think it’s kinda obvious where i stopped and started back up but i tried to blend it in as best i could!! this will be a two parter simply because i was draining myself trying to drag it on, so stay tuned (might take a while)! AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST thank you to my wonderful, amazing, supportive wife @dior-roses for beta reading this (i was terrified)

As a kid, you always moved wherever the Hughes moved—it was something about the bond between your fathers that couldn’t keep your families apart for more than a week. Regardless of how many times you moved, you never felt alone. You and Luke were in the same grade, and Quinn and Jack were always looking out for you two, so isolation was never a concern for you.

Although you were inseparable with Luke, Quinn had always been your best friend. The four-year age difference between the two of you was almost invisible, and throughout your youth, you would always find yourself in his room, staring at the ceiling as you talked about everything. 

You would tell him about your silly school girl crushes, and he would ramble to you about hockey and all the petty drama that happened around him. In fact, he was the reason you learned hockey in the first place. Your father could never keep your attention on the sport for over five minutes, but the way Quinn talked about it so lovingly was what motivated you to step on the ice. 

Your love for hockey spurred your relationship with not only Quinn, but also Luke and Jack, to grow closer than ever. Every day in school, you and Luke would gush about the games you had watched the night prior, and every day after school, all four of you would head off to practice for your respective club teams. If you weren’t already inseparable from the way your families were bound together by an invisible rope, then you were forever connected through hockey. 

You quit after a few years to pursue more academic routes, but the sport never left your spirit. There were many occasions where the boys would refuse to play if you weren’t there, simply because your presence was the only thing to motivate them to get on the ice, especially if they were having a bad week.

Somehow, though, along the way, you caught feelings. Feelings that were far too heavy to have just surfaced from the depths of your heart. No, what you felt for Luke seemed to have always been creeping just between the line of what was certain and what was unknown. There was no other explanation as to why you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him without being on the verge of exploding. There was no other reason as to why you could spend months on end with either of his brothers but couldn’t last one minute sitting beside him. 

As soon as you came to that revelation, you were done for. It was over. You would rather die than acknowledge the feelings you caught for the boy that had been by your side since you were born. Because of that, you spent all your time with your best friend and his younger brother, and both your families sensed the shift as soon as it happened.

Especially Luke.

Oh, the poor boy, his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized you were avoiding him. You held your breath every time he stepped into the same room as you, let alone when he tried to stand remotely close to you. You diverted your attention away from him as much as you could, and the boy you once knew as your other half now seemed to be universes away. 

It was your doing, but in a way, it was his. How dare he make you fall for him? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, and definitely not to him. It wasn’t fair how he could make you fold in seconds with the way he looked at you from the other side of the room but simultaneously have a girl wrapped around his arm trying to take all his attention away from you. He was the only boy on your mind, but he always managed to push you to the darkest parts of his brain, putting you on hold when the more important girls were right in front of him. 

If only you knew. 

Quinn bounded down the stairs of your lake house, which was conveniently right next to the Hughes’, with an old framed photo in his hand. “Hah! I was right!” His exclamations took your attention away from the pasta you were cooking as you now turned to his self-righteous figure. “You would never let go of that stupid plushie.”

The two of you were arguing over what (and who) you were and were not inseparable with just prior to his search for the picture, and he claimed there were multiple photos of you hugging your favorite Elmo plushie. There was a mutual agreement that Luke was one of the things—or rather, people—you couldn’t fathom to be away from, but neither you nor Quinn had to verbally confirm it. There was no need. 

And, to be completely honest, Quinn had barely spoken about his youngest brother throughout the time you’d been spending at the lake houses. A few years back, you had reluctantly told him how you felt about Luke, and ever since then, he’d made it his mission to make you feel the most comfortable you could possibly be whilst sharing a connected lake house with the boy you’ve loved since you were children. The eldest saw the way you tensed up when you recognized his brother’s footsteps creaking down the stairs when it came time to eat breakfast, and he sure as hell saw the way your eyes blew wide whenever you accidentally made contact with him. 

It scared you how much Quinn seemed to notice about you, especially since he and his brothers were all busy with their demanding careers that left little to no time to be tending to some childhood friend who was stuck with a crush on the most recently debuted boy. Yes, he was still your best friend (that much hadn’t changed since your childhood), but all you could do was FaceTime each other, and even then, it was difficult to find time. It was the same with Jack; sometimes, they would be too tired for practice; other times, they would be exhausted from a home game and possibly frustrated had they lost; and most of the time, they weren’t even home, so the time difference, albeit miniscule, was still difficult to navigate considering you were a busy person too. 

That meant that you met up as much as you could and you stuck by each other’s side until you were forced apart by the demands of being a professional hockey player. All that time together when you were younger meant you struggled to be without each other as you got older—maybe your parents should’ve realized that, but then again, it was probably their intention. 

“Okay, I did let go of it. Multiple times, actually,” you refuted with a small frown, the expression on your face practically meaningless as your best friend laughed. It only egged him on further, evoking a complaint from your lips. “Quinn! It’s not funny!” 

“I mean, it kinda is.” He struggled to stifle his laughter as he rounded the kitchen island to stand beside you. Your hand mindlessly dragged the wooden spoon through the soft noodles floating around in the boiling hot water, and he wondered how your skin wasn’t burning. Gently removing your hand from the utensil and replacing it with his own, the eldest Hughes boy continued his teasing once he looked at your still-upset face. “You’re such a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head in annoyance. Quinn always said that to you. Always. He never failed to address you as ‘kid,’ and no matter what you did, he always managed to bring it back to how you ‘were such a kid.’ You huffed, “You’re so fucking annoying, Quinny. I’m gonna go piss off Jack. Keep cooking, and if you burn the house down, you’re paying for all of it.” 

“You’re forgetting I’m a millionaire.” His laughter filled your ears once again, and your only response was the finger you lifted at him over your shoulder.

After walking out of the kitchen of your own lake house, you took a few strides over to the sliding doors that led to the connected portion of your two homes. Your father and Jim had built it together, way back when all four of you were far too young to understand what normal lake houses were supposed to look like. It was essentially a screened-in sunroom overlooking the absolute beauty of a lake out front. They managed to hook up a large, flat-screen television on the wall, throwing a couple bean bag chairs and a rug into the room. The rest of the furnishing was left completely up to you and the Hughes brothers, so the furniture would change up every few visits. 

Oftentimes, you would find Luke there, just sitting against the one wall that had a bit of a bump-out. He liked the way it felt against his back, like it actually supported him compared to the fluffy chairs that laid in the middle of the room. Whether he be on his phone, playing video games, or reading a book that was required for summer class, he would always be in the sunroom. The floor directly before the bump-out was much more worn compared to the rest of the room, the discolored wood showing just how often the youngest Hughes would find himself in the confines of the area.

There were many times when Luke would flee to the sunroom in his times of need, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. If anyone were to try to enter the room and speak to him, he wouldn’t respond. He would only ever talk to you. You were the one and only person to talk him out of his thoughts, the only one who could convince him to leave the room. Those nights were comprised of him refusing to leave your bed and whining if you got up in the middle of the night. 

You missed it. 

But you weren’t kids anymore. And, again, it was your fault you weren’t close anymore. You deliberately distanced yourself from him. 

After pulling yourself away from your own thoughts, you tugged the Hughes’ sliding door open, the smell of freshly grilled shrimp welcoming you into the cozy house.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ellen’s soothing voice called out to you, smiling at you from her place at the kitchen sink. “How’s the pasta going?” The sound of the running water could barely be heard over the hockey game playing on the television, your father entertaining Jim and his youngest son with light chirps towards the losing team. 

You could feel Luke’s eyes set on you. Shrugging, you replied, “I told Quinny to take over and not burn the house down.” 

This was a regular occurrence whenever you came back to the lake for the break. You, your mother and Ellen would split up the food duties so that there was a lot of food but didn’t take too much time to cook everything. Quinn and Jack would help out a bit, but they would only ever take on the physical tasks. Luke used to help out when you were children, but ever since the distance you wedged between the two of you, he stopped helping out as much. 

You looked around for Jack, trying your hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze in your search for his older brother. Ellen had now returned to her cooking, and the fathers were too invested in their conversation for you to intervene. Your eyes were darting everywhere but at your ex-best friend, and as soon as you made eye contact, you couldn’t look away.

It was too difficult.

It was so stupid.

It wasn’t fair. 

His hazel eyes were too pretty. The way he looked at you made it hard to deny him the satisfaction of giving him attention. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon, but you couldn’t see that. You were blinded by your abundance of self-deprecating thoughts to notice. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice being drowned out due to the other activities occurring throughout the house. You mouthed the same word back, fighting the urge to walk over to him and apologize for avoiding him, apologize for distancing yourself from the one person you know you could never live without. If you allowed yourself to break, you would never forgive yourself. He doesn’t like you back, you told yourself. You can’t embarrass yourself.

So, instead of going with your heart, you went with your brain and made your way upstairs. If Jack wasn’t downstairs, then he had to have been upstairs doing God knows what. 

“Jack?” You called out, running your hand along the railing of the staircase once you neared the top. 

“In here!” His muffled voice came through the door to his bedroom, and you’ve seen him in enough compromising positions to the point where you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be cautious. Once you opened the door, you were met with four gazes planted straight on you. You suddenly felt exposed despite your thick pajamas and only felt some sort of reassurance when you found Jack’s eyes. “Look who finally came up here!”

All four boys sat on Jack’s bed with controllers in their hands, the game on the TV now paused as their attention focused solely on you. You knew Trevor, Alex, and Cole, but you hadn’t seen them in so long that it felt awkward. “Oh, uh, hey. Quinn’s probably gonna burn my house down and I didn’t wanna be down there with Lukey, so,” you trailed off, pursing your lips. 

“You’re still on that?” Alex questioned with furrowed eyebrows, placing the controller in his lap. You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what the boy was talking about. He continued, “I thought you got over him, like, months ago.”

Right. You had forgotten all about your accidental drunk confession the last time Jack’s friends were over. Last summer, your revelation was fresh on your mind, and you and Luke were still as inseparable as ever. His friends had also visited the lake house at the same time everyone else was staying over, so it made for a ton of chaos and little to no privacy. 

Luke and his friends had left the house to go out, and for the first time, you stayed behind. Trevor and Cole were sitting at the fire pit outside, beers in their hands as they discussed the upcoming camps they were to attend. You were on your fifth drink, and although Jack was keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t noticed how you had accidentally walked into the bathroom while Alex was in the process of throwing up. 

In the midst of your tipsy daze and the fact that it just so happened to be Luke’s bathroom, you called out for him. “Luke? Is that you? You know I’m always telling you not to drink that much, stupid.” You used your foot to shut the door behind you as you placed your drink onto the counter. 

Alex, confused but sobering up, looked up at you with puffy eyes. Only then did he notice how you were much more than tipsy. 

Your gaze was blurry and your words were beginning to slur, “If I didn’t like you so much, maybe I would be more mad at you. I don’t know why I like you, anyway. You’re always being so stupid, ‘cause you can’t see that all those girls are only ever using you for your brother or your body. They’re so mean. And I’m your best friend, not them! You always ditch me when you find another girl, and then they say shit about me behind my back. I don’t like them. What do you even see in them? God, what do I even see in you?

“My stomach hurts. I think I’m thinking about this too much. Or maybe I’m thinking about you too much. I hate you so much, Lukey, but I can’t ever hate you. You’re too pretty. This is so unfair and my head is pounding. Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up. Move over.” After your little monologue, which was definitely not directed towards the person on the receiving end, you were quick to fall to the ground beside the toilet and dip your head past the ceramic seat. 

Alex brought his right hand up to flush the toilet so you didn’t accidentally stuff your face in a load of his vomit, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on your back. “‘m not Luke, but you’re safe with me.” He continued his motions throughout the five-minute duration of your illness, bringing his hand up to massage your head once you were sure you were done.

Your head was pounding and your ears began to ring, but you were visibly more sober compared to how you were a few minutes ago. Barely able to lift your head, you thanked your friend with a weak smile.

He only returned your expression and brought you up to your feet, leading you out of the restroom and towards Jack’s room. It obviously wasn’t the best option to bring you to Luke’s room, albeit being the default room after a long night, so his older brother’s bedroom would have to do. 

Alex laid you down onto the mattress and tucked you in, lightly patting your cheek as you thanked him once more. He only chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Anytime.”

And then you were left alone in the confines of Jack’s room.

You chuckled awkwardly at the memory, shaking your head in response. “Nope. Still on it.” Your hands brought themselves up to your thighs, rubbing your palms against your thick pants in an attempt to wipe away the tension in the room.

Trevor and Cole were aware of your feelings as well; you were sure everyone in the house knew. They only shot you sympathetic smiles, their priorities set on finishing the NHL 23 game plastered all over the screen. 

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“We believe in you.”

Their words, no offense, meant nothing to you. They were great people to hang around, but they weren’t the best guys to turn to when you were in a time of need, especially since you weren’t very close to them. They had their own issues that didn’t concern you, and your issues were ever so far from their minds.

After a few beats of silence, the mood of the room began to slowly eat away at you. If you were to open your mouth and bite down, you might as well have taken a chunk out of the thick tension lingering in the room. It was even more awkward knowing that Luke was much closer to them compared to you, and you knew they would let things slip eventually. 

Not that he didn’t already know, though.

The four boys exchanged glances with one another, shrugging in unison before resuming their gameplay. You took it as your cue to stay, seeing as they didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and you were much more comfortable in Jack’s room than you were downstairs. 

Allowing yourself to flop onto the boy’s soft mattress, you fished your phone out from the pocket of your pajama pants, finding solace in the way the friends laughed with each other. You remained like that for about twenty minutes before Jack beckoned you over to the edge of his bed, where he was sitting, to ask you for your opinion on something.

After dishing him your thoughts—which barely seemed to help him—you stayed snug at the foot of the bed, extending your legs out so that they lay atop his. It was one of your more typical positions when spending time with Jack whilst he was playing video games. Whether it be with his friends or with his brothers, you always found yourself comfortably overlapping your limbs with him, and today was no exception. 

You both shuffled around a bit until you found a comfortable position. You sat with your legs resting on his thighs and your head laying on his shoulder; he sat with his forearms resting on your left leg. The others paid no mind to your odd positioning, their minds too preoccupied with the competitiveness flooding through the screen. 

So you stayed like that for a while. For a long while, actually. You only lifted your head when the sound of light knocking echoed against Jack’s door once more, and soon after, you found his youngest brother cracking the door open and peeking through. 

His eyes had yet to land on your figure. “Hey, Mom’s looking for—”

Before he could utter your name, he looked you dead in the eye. 

“Oh.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. Him, of all people, should be the least surprised to see you cuddled up with Jack. “You.”

There was a certain poison in his tone that struck you right where it hurt the most. It was the way he spat through gritted teeth and looked at you with so much indifference. (It was really a façade, but you were too entranced under his gaze to realize that he could never bring himself to hate you.) The whole room seemed to shift uncomfortably with the way the tension flowed between you and Luke. 

No matter how hard you tried to mask your pain and your desperation for him to notice you, you would never be able to hide how you really felt. Not with him. 

“You can tell her I’ll be right down,” you murmured, slowly moving your legs from Jack’s lap, but before you could even finish your sentence, Luke disappeared as quickly as he came. When you looked back in the door frame, all you were met with was a blank wall and the faint image of where the boy stood before.

You could feel Jack lightly pat your thigh, trying his hardest to support you with the little attention he was diverting toward you. With a small sigh, you pushed yourself off the mattress and wiped your palms against the fabric of your pants, reluctantly leaving the room. Alex wished you good luck, but his fleeting words flew straight through one ear and out the other. 

Downstairs, the fathers were still loud as ever, and the sizzling in the kitchen now turned into the delicious aroma of freshly cooked lunch. Quinn’s voice echoed up the staircase, and you could hear how he attempted to entertain his mom as she waited for you to come back down. 

As soon as your feet hit the bottom floor, you could already sense Quinn’s eyes on you. He looked like he was being held hostage, and you could argue that he was begging you for help. He wasn’t the only Hughes boy with his gaze locked on you, but he was the only one you would give attention to.

“Oh, look! Just who you were looking for, Mom,” the eldest boy managed to divert the attention away from him and towards you. You scowled at him just before Ellen turned around, plastering on a smile as you walked towards them.

You gently placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I was just up in Jack’s room. Luke said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, that’s right! Could you grab that fancy set of plates from the cabinet in your house, sweetie? It’s too high to reach for any of us parents, and you know Lukey and Quinn don’t help out with anything anymore,” Ellen spoke, evoking an argument from her oldest son. It only took one glare from her to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his complacence. 

You nodded your head with a grin, still fighting more giggles as you swerved past Quinn. He lunged at you, bringing his hands up to your waist as if he was going to tickle you, but you managed to jump just out of his reach before continuing on your journey to grab the plates Ellen wanted. 

Once you made it back into your house, you dragged a chair up to the counter and climbed onto the cushioned seat, opening the cabinet and setting your gaze on the fake fine china. You only grabbed a few at a time, not wanting to break anything in fear of your mother getting mad at you. Eventually, you had gotten down to the last few plates, and once you had them in your hands, you closed the cabinet and stepped down from the chair.

Perhaps you should’ve been more aware of how high you were, because somehow, the bottom plate smashed against the countertop and shattered in your hands, causing you to let out a small scream. The porcelain had broken into small pieces, cutting into your palms, but you managed to place the reset of the plates down before beginning to worry about the amount of cuts you had on your hands. 

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, looking at the floor to see how many shards were scattered around the floor. Your only form of protection on the soles of your feet were the fluffy socks you were wearing, and the distance between the pieces was far enough to where you could step past them. 

As soon as you deemed it safe to walk normally, you swiveled on your heel to analyze the messy situation you found yourself in. You definitely should have been more careful, and now you had to clean up all the small plate shards with cuts in your hands. Fuck, your hands were still bleeding, and it hadn’t even occurred to you that it was now dripping down your arms. 

All you could do was stand in place, shock still coursing in your veins. The sink on the island was in the middle of the plate murder, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally stepping on something sharp. Before you could even begin to make your way to the half-bath near the kitchen, you heard footsteps bounding through the sunroom. The glass door slid open far too aggressively—so much so that you thought it would shatter, too—and you assumed it was Quinn coming to check on you.

The plate breaking was loud enough to be heard from the other house, especially with the connected room, but you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal for him. You were usually trustworthy enough to not accidentally hurt yourself, but this was a prime example of how you really weren’t.

You didn’t want any questions to be asked, and because it was Quinn, you knew you would get made fun of before being helped. “Don’t worry—”

“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice that spoke up was not Quinn. 

Immediately snapping your head around to look at the boy standing there, frozen, your frown contorted into a grimace. “Luke—shit—hey,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, I was just being stupid and—”

“What the fuck happened? You’re gonna bleed out if you don’t wash your hands and wrap them up.” His heavy footsteps inched closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you, taking your forearms into his calloused hands and inspecting how bad your injuries were. “C’mon, we gotta wash this off.” 

Luke led you to the bathroom as if it was his own house, running the tap and allowing the water to get most of the red liquid off your hands before taking a clean towel and gently tapping the rest off. 

He was unbearably gentle with you. You felt ashamed to think of how fast your heart was beating at such a simple gesture; as if him caring about you meant anything except the fact that growing up together meant you both cared for each other when someone was hurt. Sighing to hide your true feelings, you slowly took your hands away from his touch, “Luke, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to do this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to clean you up if you hurt yourself.” He immediately took your hands back into his and resumed his actions, quickly grabbing ointment from the cabinet above the toilet. Squeezing out a dollop of the cream, he soothingly rubbed it against your wounds with a focused frown adorning his features.

You took the chance to admire him candidly. He was so worried about you, and it was so cute. He wouldn’t even let you take care of yourself because he wanted to do it for you, and he was so serious about it. You had always thought his focused face was adorable, even when you were kids, but as you grew up, it only got cuter and cuter. Fuck, you were so gone for him.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he looked up at you and immediately looked back down at your hands. He cleared his throat awkwardly and questioned, “Does it hurt?” 

“Hm?” You snapped yourself out of your trance, your face heating up with the unexpected eye contact. “Oh, uh, no. It doesn’t hurt.” The pain you were feeling came more from your heart than it did from your body. It hurt to be in such close proximity to the boy you longed so deeply for. The awkward silence floating between the two of you pained you even more. 

Luke nodded and rummaged through the drawers until he found gauze, taking great care to wrap it around your hands without causing you too much discomfort. When he finished, all he did was usher you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back, turning off the lights without so much as a word. 

Only when you entered the kitchen did a small mumble leave the boy’s lips. “Try to be more careful next time, okay? Can’t have you going around injuring yourself and shit, or you’re gonna make me—us worry too much.” He cleared his throat after his slip-up, hoping you didn’t hear what he said. You did. “Oh, and Jack told me to let you know the guys are throwing a party tonight. He said to invite you so you could buy cups and shit, but you’re kinda . . . banged up right now.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go grab stuff from the store later—”

“No!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes blowing wide once he realized how loud he protested your suggestion. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I’ll go get the stuff. You shouldn’t drive with your hands all cut up like that. They don't care who buys what.”

You blinked at him. He was acting so weird; it was almost like he cared about you. But it didn’t matter. The others were throwing a party, which meant there were going to be tons of girls all over him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to get mad if you were the one who caused the rift between you two.

With a shrug, you silently agreed to his proposal and turned to grab the remaining set of plates still sitting on the counter. You couldn’t even take two steps before Luke was already sliding ahead of you and taking the ceramic platters into his arms. “Luke, you really don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, look,” you showed him your hands, front and back, to try and convince him to let you do something. 

“No, you’re hurt. And I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I made you injure yourself more.”

Best friend.

Two very opposing emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, the term ‘best friend’ still sent a pang through your chest, knowing you would never be more to him than just a best friend. But on the other hand, it relieved you to know that he still considered you close enough to be his best friend. 

God, you were such a mess. You were running away from him in fear of rejection, but then you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. What the hell was wrong with you?

Eventually, the two of you made it back into his house, the boy announcing your arrival and placing the plates down onto the dining table. He immediately found his spot back on the couch in between the fathers like before, and you instantly got hounded by both the mothers’ questions being launched at you all at once.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you grimaced. You attempted to pull your hands away from her inspecting gaze, but she brought them right back to her face. “Mom, it doesn’t even hurt anymore! Lukey already put medicine on it and wrapped them up, anyway!” You were growing impatient, and your complaints slowly turned into whines. 

Thankfully, as soon as she heard Luke’s nickname leave your mouth, she dropped your hands back to your sides and grinned widely at you.

“Well, then! I’m sure you’re just fine, aren’t you?”

You sighed begrudgingly. “Yes, Mom.” You were just happy she stopped nagging you.

What you didn’t know was that she and Ellen were in pain watching their two children stay so far away from each other for such a long time. The parents always thought you two would have confessed by the time you graduated high school, but you were in college and Luke was having an amazing rookie season. It clearly didn’t work out the way they thought it would have.

You also didn’t know that Luke’s heart practically exploded out of his chest when he heard you use his nickname so nonchalantly. He always overheard you addressing him as Lukey to his brothers, but you never did it when you knew he was listening. It was almost as if saying it made your mouth run dry. 

And it did.

It finally came time to eat lunch, and your stomach was threatening to growl before you all sat down at the table. Trevor, Alex, and Cole decided to eat at a restaurant instead, encouraging Jack to eat with your families rather than hanging out with them. So he stayed.

There was a specific order in which you sat. There were five members of the Hughes family and three members of your family, meaning there were eight seats total; the rectangular table fit the usual number of people perfectly. The fathers would sit on either end of the table, and the mothers would sit to their right. You and Jack sat next to your mothers, while Luke sat beside you and Quinn beside Jack. 

It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.

Not when Jack kissed you on New Years. He still had to sit opposite to you at the table. Not when you and Luke had the biggest verbal fight in your life, leaving you both with scars on your knees. And especially not when you finally recognized the feelings you had for your best friend.

And as you sat in your spot, with Luke’s thigh pressed against yours, you realized that maybe loving him wasn’t all that bad.

— diorsluv 2024

[misshoneyimhome]

can i make a request for a prompt where someone on the other team says something about willy’s girl on the ice (“i’ll have your girl on her knees for me in no time” or something sexual like that), and willy ends up fighting the guy, which is super unusual for him obv. he wins the fight but gets sent off the ice for the remainder of the game.

reader is watching the game from the stands and is really concerned seeing willy loose it like that, a little pissed off at him for it, and kinda turned on.

after the game willy is pissed and pretty quiet/non verbal, and they argue about it until he ends up telling her what was said. she assures him that nobody could ever “take” her from him and shows him how much she means that and it’s really spicy with dominate/angry willy. 🥵

Of course, you can babe! 🤗 I do always enjoy some riled-up Willy, whether jealous or pissed off, doesn't matter ⚡️

Now I know I didn't end up doing so much angry!Willy during the smutty part, my apologies! But I do hope I captured the essence of your idea - I just thought it was fun to play with the concept of the 'on her knees' part 🙈 Please, I still hope you enjoy it 💕

Tropes & Warnings; William Nylander x reader, established relationship; 18+ smut; oral sex (m recieving), that's really it;

Word count; 3.6K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost @Fortheloveofnylander

➼｡ﾟ

Forever Thine, Forever Mine, Forever Ours | William Nylander

The playoffs were really taking a toll on your boyfriend William Nylander like never before. Although he'd faced this challenge many times in the past, this season seemed particularly tough as the Maple Leafs took on the Boston Bruins.

The atmosphere around the team was tense and filled with anticipation. Each game against the Bruins was a demanding test of skill and stamina, and the pressure was almost tangible. Every match felt like a battle, with each player pushing themselves to their limits in pursuit of victory. And William found himself at the heart of this storm, his usually composed demeanour giving way to a determined intensity that was unprecedented.

William had had an incredible season, no doubt about that. He not only scored goals and made assists, but he also proved to be an exceptional team player, dedicating himself fully both on and off the ice. His commitment showed in his training sessions, the extra hours he put in to refine his skills and physique, and his unwavering support for his teammates. He was undoubtedly a part of the pillar of the team, earning admiration and respect from everyone.

Especially you.

As his girlfriend, even though it was still your first year officially together, your relationship had quickly become deeper and more meaningful than any other. Your bond with William had grown strong, anchored in mutual respect, love, and understanding, while also being filled with fun and excitement.

You cherished every moment you spent together - from quiet mornings to late-night conversations. And the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you, captured each moment perfectly. It was amidst the chaos of the hockey season, your relationship provided a sanctuary where both of you could find peace and comfort.

Yet, as the playoffs advanced, you could see how much it was affecting him. His usual easy-going nature often gave way to a serious intensity, reflecting how much this competition meant to him. The weight of expectations and the physical demands of the games were evident in every move he made and every sigh he let out. So, you did your utmost to support him, to be his rock during this challenging time, yet you couldn't help but worry.

_

On the brighter note, just before game six, you managed to carve out a moment to celebrate William's birthday. Naturally, you had made sure to turn off his alarm before getting to work on preparing his favourite breakfast: traditional Swedish pancakes with all the toppings he could desire. Alongside, you whipped up some scrambled eggs and bacon to ensure he had enough protein ahead of the game the following day. And of course, there was freshly brewed coffee, freshly squeezed juice, and the table was set beautifully.

The aroma of bacon and pancakes filled the air, mingling with the scent of coffee brewing, as the early morning sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm, golden glow throughout the condo. You paused to take in the peaceful scene, hoping it would offer William a brief respite from the mounting pressure of the playoffs.

And after everything was ready, you found William still snoozing peacefully on his stomach. You approached him gently, sitting on the bed before running your fingers over his muscular back and shoulders, and leaned down to place soft kisses on his cheek.

With a light groan, William slowly stirred from his sleep, his soft gaze meeting yours as he smiled. "Well, this is a beautiful sight to wake up to," he murmured huskily, his voice rough from sleep.

"Only the best for my birthday boy," you replied sweetly, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mmm," William chuckled. "And is that bacon I smell?" He turned onto his back, grinning widely at you.

You couldn't help but return his smile, as you admired his gorgeous toned torso. "Yes, indeed. Like I said, only the best for my birthday boy."

William was without a doubt beyond grateful for your efforts. And clad in his most comfortable clothes, his eyes gleamed with love and appreciation as he took in the sight of the beautifully set table filled with his favourite breakfast treats. He then reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You're amazing, you know that?" William said with admiration in his voice.

You chuckled lightly, leaning into his touch. "Hmm, yes, I do know - but I don’t mind hearing it from you."

William laughed softly as he then took his seat. And as you both enjoyed the delicious breakfast, savouring the quiet morning, a deep sense of contentment settled over you. Despite the challenges and pressures outside, everything felt perfect in that moment.

After indulging in the tasteful breakfast, you decided it was time to give William the carefully chosen birthday gift you had prepared for him. Shopping for your boyfriend was never really easy, considering he seemed to have everything he wanted. And naturally, he had even told you multiple times that you didn't need to buy him anything, but you couldn't resist. You wanted to get your boyfriend a gift, no matter how big or small.

So, placing the wrapped box in front of him, you watched William chuckled deeply. "I told you, you didn't have to get me anything, babe."

"I know, but I wanted to. So, hush and just open it," you replied firmly, though there was a playful tone in your voice.

And as he began to open the perfectly squared box, his lips curved into a wide smile upon discovering the watch you had chosen. Although he didn't particularly need a new watch, you thought it would be a way for you to be part of his everyday style. And judging by the look on his face, you believed you'd nailed it.

"Wow, babe, this is amazing," William said, taking the watch out of the box to examine it closely.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride as you watched him. Yet, your heart beat a little faster as you still had to show him your favourite part. So, gently taking the watch from his fingers, you turned it around so he could read the small engraving on the underside of the metal.

"Forever thine, forever mine, forever ours."

William's eyes softened as he read the inscription, his expression shifting from delight to something deeper and more loving. He then looked up at you, his gaze filled with emotion. "I love it," he murmured. "And I love you. So much."

"I love you too, Willy," you whispered softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips.

The rest of the day was spent in a blissful haze. You laughed, talked, and simply enjoyed each other’s company, savouring the rare moments of calm before the storm. And as the sun set, casting long shadows across the city, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination. No matter what the playoffs threw at you, you knew you would face it together.

_

The stands were a sea of blue and white, the crowd's energy infectious, as you sat in your usual spot, proudly wearing a Leafs jersey with Nylander’s name and number emblazoned on the back. The air buzzed with excitement, fans cheering and chanting, their voices merging into a powerful roar that echoed through the arena. You could feel the anticipation building, each passing second bringing you closer to the start of the game.

And as the match unfolded, your eyes followed your boyfriend’s every move on the ice, your heart racing with each play. William was skating with fierce determination, his every move purposeful and precise. The game was intense, and the Bruins were playing aggressively, their aggression palpable even from the stands. As a Leafs fan, it felt downright dirty.

Your heart pounded with every hit, every pass, and every shot. You were on edge, knowing how much this game meant to William and the team. Yet, suddenly, a scuffle broke out near the boards. You squinted, trying to make out what was happening, and you noticed one of the Bruins players got in William’s face, seemingly taunting him.

You could see the tension in William’s posture, his shoulders tensing as the player leaned in, saying something that made his expression darken. To your great surprise, you then watched in horror as William’s fists clenched at his sides. And before you knew it, he had dropped his gloves and launched himself at the player, causing shouting to erupt around you as the two men collided, fists flying.

You let out a gasp.

This was so unlike William. He was usually known for his composure, his ability to stay cool under pressure, but whatever the Bruins player had said had pushed him over the edge. So, you swallowed hard as you watched intensely, heart in your throat, as William dominated the fight.

You were torn between anger that he’d initiated a physical fight—something that seemed unnecessary—and something more primal and lustful stirring within you. Embarrassingly, you had to admit that seeing William riled up and swinging his fists turned you on, biting your lower lip as arousal began to stir. And when William then finally sent the other player sprawling onto the ice, you felt a wave of heat, causing you to clench your thighs together.

However, the referees then quickly intervened, pulling them apart and escorting William off the ice as he was ejected for the remainder of the game, causing a knot of worry to twist in your stomach. This wasn’t like him at all. And as the game continued, your mind was only half on the action, the other half consumed with concern for William.

So, before the final buzzer sounded, you made your way down to the locker rooms, flashing your pass to security. Despite the team being close to a win, the atmosphere was subdued, and you could feel the tension radiating through the Scotiabank Arena.

Then you spotted William, sitting alone in his stall with his head in his hands. You approached cautiously through the locker room, your heart aching at the sight of him so dejected. His usually confident posture was slumped, his broad shoulders hunched over as if carrying an unbearable weight.

“Willy, baby,” you said softly, sitting down next to him. But he didn’t look up, his shoulders tense.

“Hey,” he simply muttered, his voice low and rough. You placed a hand on his arm, feeling the taut muscles beneath his jersey.

“What happened out there?” you asked, trying to keep your voice gentle despite the mix of emotions churning inside you. “That wasn’t like you.”

He was silent for a moment, but then finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with anger and something else – something that made your heart ache.

“Nothing,” he simply mumbled, but you knew that was far from the truth.

“Come on, Willy, I know you better than that,” you pressed on, yet that only made William scowl at you with a hint of anger.

“I said nothing, alright!” he almost shouted as he swiftly rose from his seat. “Now can we just get out of here?”

You were baffled. William had never shouted at you like that before. And what was even more frustrating was that it had nothing to do with you. You hadn’t been out there on the ice; you hadn’t done anything to him. So, this little scene of his was unacceptable..

Standing up as well, you crossed your arms and took a step forward. “Nuh huh, you don’t get to yell at me like that. Just tell me what happened; it’s clearly bothering you,” you spoke firmly, yet kept your tone from shouting.

William let out a deep, frustrated sigh, hands on his hips as he looked at you with a tense expression. “He said something, alright... something about you,” he admitted, his voice tight and still furious. “Something... disgusting. And I just couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of anger and a strange thrill coursing through you. “What did he say?”

William clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing as he pressed his lips together before speaking with spite. “He said… he’d have you on your knees for him in no time. That you could be his if he wanted you. And… maybe if they won tonight… he’d have a round with you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and vile, as you felt a surge of fury on his behalf, but also a deep, abiding love. William had fought, but he had done it for you. He had taken a risk, potentially being ejected from the game, just to protect you. And the thought of his loyalty and the lengths he would go to defend you made your heart swell and something even wilder grow within.

So, determined to end this small argument, you stepped forward and cupped William’s face in your hands, feeling the tension in his jaw. “Willy, no one could ever take me from you. No one.”

His eyes searched yours, the anger slowly giving way to something more primal. “I know. You’re mine,” he simply said, his voice low and rough as he leaned down to meet yours, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer to his body. “Only mine.”

“Yes,” you whispered, your lips almost touching his, the words a promise. “Only yours.”

Both of you were beyond eager to close the gap, to taste each other. The kiss you then shared ignited something fiercer between you, a flame that quickly grew. And before you knew it, William had lifted you into his embrace, his strong hands possessively holding your buttocks as he pressed you against the cool tiles of the locker room wall. His anger and desire melded into a fervent, almost desperate need to claim you, to reassure himself of your loyalty. The intensity of his kiss deepened, his touch firm and unyielding, conveying everything he felt without a single word.

Your breath hitched as he kissed you fiercely. But then, he breathlessly pulled away. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his voice rough with need, before briefly kissing you again, lightly biting your lip.

“I’m yours, Willy,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Forever yours.”

He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Damn right,” he muttered, his lips hungrily trailing down your neck, marking you as his. “No one else.”

His touch was demanding, almost punishing in its intensity, but you welcomed it, needing to show him just how much he meant to you. And as he claimed you with every kiss, every touch, the bond between you strengthened, unbreakable and eternal.

Yet, by the time you heard a loud whistle sound, signalling the rest of the team could soon enter the locker room, you were both spent, breathless and entwined. The anger had almost ebbed away, leaving only a profound sense of connection and belonging. 

So, letting out a deep breath, both of you couldn’t help but smile. “You should probably get changed so we can get out of here as soon as possible?” you suggested, a playful smirk curving your lips. And without needing to ask twice, William eagerly agreed, gently putting you down on your feet. 

He then swiftly and skillfully shed his hockey gear, a sight you couldn’t help but enjoy. As he changed into more comfortable clothes, you simply watched him with hungry eyes, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Alright, let’s go,” William commanded, grabbing your hand.

“Willy, the game is almost over. Maybe we should wait so you can finish up with the team,” you protested, though your voice betrayed your desire to be alone with him.

“Do I look like I give a shit? Come on.”

William’s words were nothing but determined, and before you could object further, he was pulling you towards the car park and his vehicle.

Walking through the dimly lit corridors of the arena, the distant sounds of the game fading behind you, your mind raced with the evening’s events. The way William had defended your honour, his fierce protectiveness, and now his urgency to take you away from it all—it stirred a mix of emotions within you.

And while in the car, William’s hand remained firmly on your thigh. His touch was reassuring, his grip steady on the steering wheel as he navigated through the city. Though the journey home was quiet, the tension of the night slowly dissolved yet still palpable as the city lights streaked past. Glancing at your boyfriend, his jaw set in determination, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and love.

Upon arriving at his condo, the familiar comfort of home enveloping you both, William wasted no time, pulling you into his arms again the moment the door closed behind you. His kiss was tender yet fervent, a silent promise of his unwavering devotion, as he allowed himself to taste you once more.

You were in no doubt about his pure intentions of the evening, so as he gently guided you to the spacious sofa, you had something on your mind.

With a confident expression on your face, you then pushed him down onto the cushions, hungrily licking your lips as you spoke. “How about I get on my knees for you? Then you can have me if that’s what you want.”

Repeating the words of the opposing player had William’s eyes darkening with desire, his breath hitching as he processed your words. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, though the raw need in his gaze betrayed his true feelings.

“Oh, but I want to,” you whispered, your voice husky with anticipation. “I want to show you just how much you mean to me, and how grateful I am for everything you do.”

So, before he could protest further, you were already kneeling between his legs, your hands trailing up his thighs. The look of sheer adoration and lust on his face sent a thrill through you, fueling your desire to please him.

As you maintained your gaze with his, you deftly slipped a couple of fingers past the elastic waistband of his joggers and boxers, gently pulling them down to expose his semi-hard erection to the air. William let his lips part slightly, desire stirring within him, and a moan then escaped him as he felt your soft lips on his tender skin.

“Oh yes, baby,” William grunted, his hand finding your hair and gently pulling you closer.

You began to worship him with your touch, taking his length into your warm, wet mouth, relaxing your throat enough to take him deeper. You felt him grow harder on your touch, his hands tangled in your hair as he guided you but still letting you set the pace. The connection between you was electric, every moment charged with the intensity of your feelings for each other.

You breathed steadily through your nose as you moved your lips up and down his shaft, alternating between licking and using your hand to cover what your mouth didn’t. You listened attentively to William’s pleasure-filled noises, his small grunts signalling his climax approaching.

With each suck, lick, and caress, you poured your love and devotion into your actions. His low groans and whispered words of encouragement spurred you on, each sound driving your mind wilder to please him. Taking your time, savouring every moment, you ensured he felt just how much you adored and cherished him.

“Fuck, baby, yes…” he moaned softly under his breath. 

You tried to maintain eye contact as you continued working his member, increasing speed and depth with each moment, saliva dribbling from the corner of your mouth as you hungrily guided him in and out.

“Oh yes… Mmmm,” William moaned louder as you intensified your actions. “Shit, baby… I’m gonna come if you keep going like that.”

And naturally, you wanted to push William over the edge, to give him that peak of pleasure, a rush of euphoria only you could provide. Then as you noticed him closing his eyes, leaning his head back, and lightly lifting his hips towards you, you knew he was on the brink.

You couldn’t help but enjoy the pleasure you could bring him, and as you pumped his shaft a few more times, he then let out a deep grunt before he released himself into your mouth. You always savoured the taste of William’s cum, a blend of sweetness and saltiness. And ensuring to clean him up thoroughly, you coaxed out the last drops.

William’s breathing became ragged, his body tense with pleasure as you gently released him from your mouth. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and desire. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Looking up at him, your eyes brimming with love, you whispered hoarsely, “I’m all yours, Willy,” thick with emotion. You placed a gentle kiss on his cock before slowly rising on your knees to come closer to his face.

And when he finally regained control of his breathing, the look of pure ecstasy on his face was all the reward you needed. William pulled up his sweats and then drew you into his arms, his kisses fervent and filled with gratitude as he tasted the remains of himself on your lips. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your lips. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Me neither,” you replied with a chuckle, your heart swelling with love as you snuggled into his embrace. “But that doesn’t matter.” Gently, you traced the watch on his wrist, a gift from you that he had chosen to wear that day. “Forever thine, forever mine,” you whispered.

“Forever ours,” William finished the quote, prompting you to look up into his blue eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

“Exactly.”

[annieqattheperipheral]

you have to read this in full!!

i gotchu from behind the $wall:

The day Luke Prokop shook the hockey world by coming out, he needed to get away.

And stop looking at his constantly buzzing phone.

It was July 21, 2021, and the right-shot defenseman had just become the first openly gay hockey player under an NHL contract. The Nashville Predators’ No. 73 pick in the 2020 draft was just 19 years old and hadn’t even turned pro yet. He didn’t know how it would impact his future. His nerves were fried.

But one text message was impossible to ignore. He didn’t recognize the number but certainly knew the name.

“Hey, it’s Auston Matthews. I wanted to congratulate you. I look forward to sharing the ice with you someday.”

Prokop was blown away. The Toronto Maple Leafs superstar wasn’t the most famous person to reach out — that honor goes to Elton John — but the fact that so many NHLers, including one of the league’s best and most powerful players, were offering support meant a lot.

Now 21, Prokop still hasn’t taken the NHL ice, but on Wednesday he took a step forward, being recalled by the Predators’ AHL affiliate in Milwaukee. He could become the first openly gay player to appear in an AHL game Friday night for the Admirals in Rockford.

As difficult as the decision to come out was, Prokop told The Athletic in an extended conversation recently that he’s been mentally and physically freed by it. He doesn’t have to hide. He can be himself, on and off the ice. Heck, he can even date.

“It’s been massive,” he said.

Teammates and fans have welcomed him in his journey toward the NHL so far, from Calgary, Edmonton and Seattle of the junior WHL to, most recently, Atlanta of the ECHL. They treated him like he was any other player.

Not that there’s not room to grow. Prokop figured more players would come out after he did. They haven’t, not that he would rush anyone’s decision on that. He’s also been disappointed by the developments over the past few years with the NHL’s inclusion efforts, including the Pride tape “debacle.”

He can only control his own actions, though, and doesn’t regret his decision.

“I’d like to think I’m a realistic person,” Prokop said. “I know hockey is not going to be forever. As much as (when I came out) I would have loved to keep playing, I was OK with not playing any more if it didn’t work out — just being able to live my life the way I wanted, to be myself.

“But now, I don’t want to stop playing. It was definitely nerve-wracking. You never know what the reaction is going to be inside hockey, outside hockey, because no one has done it before. We kind of went out on a limb and hoped for the best. It’s been way more positive than we thought it’d be. You’re going to have some keyboard warriors, which there were a few, but I was expecting more.

“I did not expect the amount of support I got from NHL players. That was really cool.”

- - - - - - -

The Matthews text and Elton John phone call the morning after were memorable, with the gay rock legend welcoming him to the community and offering his email address if Prokop ever needed anything.

Prokop found even more comfort in a moment that came a few days later — the first time he played hockey since his announcement. It was a four-on-four league in Edmonton at Meadows Rec Center, a place where pros and NHLers competed and kept in shape during the offseason.

Prokop was on a team with Colton and Kirby Dach. The other team had Philadelphia Flyers goalie Carter Hart and the Boston Bruins’ Jake DeBrusk. During warmups, Prokop found himself near mid-ice. The first guy to approach him was DeBrusk. The two had met previously through mutual friends. DeBrusk tapped Prokop’s shin pads with his stick.

“Congrats,” he told him. “I’m really happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I didn’t know what the reaction would be,” Prokop said. “So that meant a lot.”

Prokop was returning that year to the Calgary Hitmen (WHL), the junior team he had played for the previous four seasons. But there had been a lot of turnover on the roster and, of course, a lot had changed for Prokop. So he decided to address the team in its first meeting in training camp.

“Everyone knows what I did last summer,” he told his team. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. There might be a lot of media asking you for an interview. If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do them. If you have any questions for me, come ask me. I’m an open book. I just don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable.”

In that dressing room, Prokop had heard plenty of the uncomfortable language that’s not uncommon for any locker room. He even admitted using it. He didn’t want to out himself. He wanted to act straight, be “one of the guys.”

“I heard it, but it wasn’t all the time,” he said. “I also took it from the perspective that these guys don’t know any better. It’s hockey language. It’s how guys talk. They don’t mean it in a harmful way. They use the word ‘gay’ as a filler at the end of a sentence to make something stupid. ‘Well, that’s so gay.’ I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I used it myself. I didn’t want to seem like I was out of the mix.

“Some guys texted me (after I came out), ‘F—, sorry if I said anything to offend you when we played.’ I’d just say, ‘Guys, you had no idea.’ The lesson is you don’t know what everyone is going through. The words you say do matter. Make sure you think before you speak. It’s a silly rule you learn in kindergarten. It applies to life when you’re 22 or 35 and never goes away.

“The way hockey is going with the language, guys are naturally changing their language. I’ve heard a change in language on every team I’ve been on.”

Prokop said that season was the best of his career, both from a production standpoint and a personal one. He was traded to the Edmonton Oil Kings early in the season and had 10 goals and 33 points in 55 games for them, helping them win the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup and advance to the Memorial Cup.

Luke Prokop won the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup with the Oil Kings in 2022. (Courtesy of Oilers Entertainment Group)

Luke Pierce, then an assistant coach for Edmonton and now the head coach, said the staff and management had discussions with the leadership group before acquiring Prokop — making sure they were comfortable with it, feeling out whether their room could handle the attention. Pierce said he asked one of the captains, Blues prospect Jake Neighbours, for his perspective. Neighbours had known Prokop since they were 10 or 11, growing up playing in spring tournaments together. He told Pierce and the staff there would be “zero issue” and he’d be a great addition.

Neighbours said nothing really changed, that Prokop “fit right in” to the team. Pierce at first wondered if players would have any issue with rooming assignments on the road, but nobody blinked. Pierce noted that Prokop would joke about situations and even opened up about his boyfriend coming to visit.

“He put everybody at ease,” Pierce said. “I often tell people, if the outside world could see how the group of men interacted, it would be just a tremendous inspiration on how we should treat everybody.”

Pierce and Prokop pointed out how this generation is more comfortable and equipped to handle LGBTQ+ inclusion issues. Everyone seems to know someone, be friends with someone, or be related to someone in the community.

“I just don’t think guys really care anymore,” Prokop said. “They might be nervous as they have this stereotype version of what a gay guy might look like, sound like, act like. Like me, coming to a team, they think I’ll act a certain way, look a certain way, but they’ll realize three minutes into talking to me that I’m not that.

“Hockey is part of me. It’s who I am. Guys totally forget (about me being gay) when I’m at the rink. They’re not afraid to ask questions. But other than that, it never really comes up. That’s how I wanted it to be. I wanted them to know, but we can all go out and play. I never wanted to be a distraction.”

- - - - - - -

The NHL’s decisions around Pride jerseys and stick tape weren’t a distraction, Prokop said, but he has gotten frustrated about it.

He understood the issue over wearing sweaters during warmups — “jerseys weren’t really their choice” — but lamented that the fact the focus was on the handful of players who refused to wear them and not all the others who did. The NHL’s initial banning of Pride stick tape, then its reversal, was a whole other topic.

“To take away choices from players was really confusing,” Prokop said. “Some of them don’t really care. For some, it was near and dear to their heart. To take it away was mind-boggling. From the players’ side, the support was there. Zach Hyman talked about it, Travis Dermott. I like what they did. They didn’t make a big deal about it before — they just did it. Let fans see the rest, and it’ll take care of itself. There’s a massive amount of support from players in the NHL.”

What do the Pride tape and sweaters mean for someone in the LGBTQ+ community?

Prokop didn’t recall noticing them growing up going to Oilers games. He never got to see someone who was gay using Pride tape on the TV screen. He had to deal with it himself — “jump over those barriers without any help.” But Prokop continued pursuing his hockey career whereas “a lot of people don’t feel comfortable pursuing their career without that exposure, without feeling like they’re being seen.”

“I think with the Pride tape stuff, they were trying to show support for their older fans,” Prokop said of the NHL. “The fans that have been watching hockey for 40-50 years. That’s not how you grow the game. You want to get the younger generation, put these guys in the best situation to promote the game. Sometimes I don’t think the NHL does that the correct way. The Pride tape is one example.”

Prokop has been part of two Pride nights since he came out, one with the Edmonton Oil Kings and another with Seattle. The Oil Kings staff approached him after not having that event on their promotional calendar. They planned it in two weeks and it was a big hit, with around 8,000 fans in attendance.

“Some guys told me it was the most impactful game they’d been in during their career,” Prokop said. “They said they didn’t realize how many Queer fans they had. I don’t think they realize how much my community watches hockey, plays hockey and cares about hockey.

The Seattle Pride night was fan-driven, which made it unique. Thunderbirds fans noticed that other rival teams had a special night for Pride and made a push for their own, making bracelets and T-shirts. Prokop told teammates they didn’t have to wear the stick tape — he knows how superstitious hockey players are. They all wore some, for him.

“I always look at the perspective, the other side of Pride nights — why do you have them if no one on the team is gay?” Prokop said. “The point is that it’s for the fans. For me, it means a lot to play in them to show my community and be a representative on the ice.”

While education is important, Prokop said any real change in the NHL when it comes to inclusion will start with other players coming out. He’s not putting any timeline or pressure on that. He didn’t have one. But that’s when players in the league will see a different perspective, get more comfortable with it.

“Otherwise, it’s always going to be a story,” Prokop said. “I also can see why guys don’t want to come out. Especially in the NHL. They’ve been very successful, so why change? I kind of saw that from the perspective when the whole Pride jersey story came out. My phone was blowing up. I don’t think guys want to have to deal with that. There was a responsibility for me to talk about these topics. I don’t think guys want to do that. I can see it from that side, why they don’t want to come out.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless someone else does. Someone else will step up. It’s only a matter of time. I thought there’d maybe be two, three of us by now. But it hasn’t happened. But I know there’s going to be someone else soon. It’s math. There’s what, 700 players in the league? There’s definitely a few more.”

- - - - - - -

While there have been some derogatory comments coming from the stands on a few occasions, Prokop has been encouraged there have been none from opposing players.

“Zero,” he said.

Most of the feedback he’s received, even on social media, has been positive. And it’s not just the comments like Matthews’ that stick with him. Two high schoolers in Seattle, Kaitlin and Jo, reached out to him over Instagram. They are part of the LGBTQ+ community and were struggling.

“Like everyone, they just wanted someone to talk to,” Prokop said.

Part of Prokop’s pregame routine is usually to hang by the bench and listen to music. On many occasions, Kaitlin and Jo would come by and the three of them would just chat for 10, 12 minutes. They’re the fans that Prokop saw every game above the tunnel on his way to the dressing room. They’ve stayed in touch. Prokop even did a Zoom meeting with their high school class last month. “They have a special place in my heart,” he said.

When, and if, Prokop makes his NHL debut, he says he’ll have a special secret plan for them.

Whether Prokop lives his NHL dream remains to be seen. He’s praised the Predators for their support from the first time he did a group video call with the staff. Former NHLer Mark Borowiecki, now a development coach, has been someone Prokop has leaned on often, not only for on-ice advice but for help getting through things mentally.

Scott Nichol, the Predators’ assistant GM, likes Prokop’s potential.

“Big right-shot defensemen that can skate, move the puck. They don’t grow on trees,” he said. “He just needs to polish up his game in some areas in the defensive zone. He’s got the tools. He’s got the skating ability. It’s just patience and embrace the process.”

Prokop is grateful for his support group, from his parents, Al and Nicole, to his brother, Josh, and sister, Alanna. He’s kept in touch with Heather Lefebvre, who is a specialist in hockey engagement and alumni relations with the Oilers Entertainment Group. They talk almost every day. What sticks out to Lefebvre is how young Prokop was when he came out (19), and while he wears this “trailblazer” cap, he’s still standing alone.

“I think this generation is more ready for it than past generations, for sure,” Lefebvre said. “It says a lot to me that nobody else has come out in the year and a half since he has. He’s the only openly gay player under NHL contract, but he’s not the only gay player under NHL contract.

“That’s where I think we have work to do. Is it great that he’s been accepted and can do his thing? Yes. But he looks at the positives, which makes me really happy for him. But that doesn’t mean there’s no negative.”

Prokop takes the positives in his off-ice life, too. He lives with Alanna in the offseason back home in Edmonton. He’s found teammates to share in his hobbies, like golf (he plays 40 to 50 rounds a year). He loves to read, from biographies to sci-fi. He watches basketball more than hockey and has more than 25 jerseys. He cooks. He got into puzzles during the pandemic and is bullish about doing them on his own.

Prokop also feels comfortable getting out there on the dating scene and not having to hide it from teammates.

“Obviously, the lifestyle of a hockey player is tough for some people,” he said. “I’m trying to find the right person to connect with. I’m a softie, a romantic guy. I love love. I’m always on the lookout for that right person to spend the rest of my life with.”

Prokop doesn’t see the label of being the first openly gay player under NHL contract as a weight. It’s more of a responsibility. He has a platform and wants to use it. He’s realistic, “dreaming about winning the community service award more than the Norris Trophy.”

Making the AHL jump or someday the NHL jump won’t define him.

“One of my main goals when I came out is that if I could have an impact on one person outside of my family and friends in my lifetime, I’ve done my job,” he said. “I think I’ve done that and more. And I want to continue to do that.”

[xiaq]

It’s giveaway time!

I have 2 signed/personalized copies of All Hail the Underdogs up for grabs (shipped to you for free if you’re in the US). You have 2 ways to enter:

1. Like + Reblog this post 2. Make your own post rec'ing one of my books (or fic, if you'd rather) and tag me in it.

Or do both for 2 entries. The contest closes and I'll announce winners on Friday the 6th. There's another contest happening on Instagram as well if you want to improve your chances of getting one!

Also! I ended up having to order more author copies of AHTU since I oversold the first 100 I offered. If you just want to pay ($20 w/shipping) for a signed/personalized one, you can email me at elmasseywrites@gmail.com.

Ok, ok. Here’s the blurb so any unfamiliar folks can be enticed into buying it:

When seventeen-year-old Patrick Roman is offered a scholarship to a top hockey preparatory school, he thinks maybe his notorious bad luck has finally ended. With a hearing for his legal emancipation on the horizon, he dreams of getting scouted and securing a place on a D1 college team. There’s only one problem: Roman has serious beef with his new winger on the team, Damien Bordeaux. They’re supposed to be perfectly in sync on the ice. But Roman, with his buzzcut and tattoos, has nothing in common with trust-fund-kid Damien, his floral scrunchies, and designer T-shirts that cost more than all of Roman’s secondhand hockey gear combined.

When eighteen-year-old Damien Bordeaux starts his senior year, he tells himself he’s going to focus on hockey and school. No more making out in the stacks, no more dorm parties. He needs to decide what his future will look like. Does he pursue his long-held dream of becoming an author? Or stay in his lane and do what he’s good at: hockey. Regardless, he’s not going to let any pretty boys distract him from figuring his shit out. Except his new center, Roman, is possibly the most beautiful boy Damien has ever seen. And his hockey—the way he moves on the ice—might be even more beautiful. Too bad he’s also probably a homophobic, racist asshole.

But their antagonistic beginning turns into an unlikely friendship and then turns into something much scarier for them both. Navigating relationships is hard enough for normal teenagers. It’s a lot harder when contending with lawyers, NHL scouts, and mutual past trauma. Roman and Damien have to decide: What do they really want in life? Are they willing to fight for each other—including fighting against their own pasts and prejudices—so they can have a happy ending?

[puckpocketed]

19/12/2023 Seattle Kraken vs Dallas Stars

The Summer I Fell For Hockey - The Kraken Wagon: How to Stay Silly in the Face of Loss

I’m the asshole on the tram who’s watching hockey on their phone and not paying attention. This is how my afternoon commute home starts. I almost run into at least two people, I definitely trip a guy trying to get off the tram because I’m not looking, and I’m caught scrambling for the door after nearly missing my stop. My walk home is slowed by my unwillingness to take my eyes off the live feed. I’m sweating through an ill-advised sweater vest thrown on at 6 in the morning on my way out the door and my feet sting from the 5 hour shift I just finished — but I don’t care. The Kraken are down 0-2 and it feels like if I stop watching, if I even think about hurrying home through the swampy, muggy afternoon, the game will run away from us. 

“The Kraken are a wagon” is a sentiment I’ve come across repeatedly in my idle googling about my team. They’re a new team, my friend tells me over discord — she fell out of love with ice hockey years ago, some time back when the Kraken were first drafting their inaugural season lineup — and as soon as I hear it I am enamoured with them. A baby team! One that’s still building an identity, trying to figure out its core; and I’m already so charmed by their jerseys — toothpaste red, white, and blue, a squiggly tentacle ‘S’ for Seattle and a glaring sea monster’s eye — but a baby team? That’s the kind of story I can gorge myself on.

So they have me. I’m in and I’m reading primers and checking player stats, and I only find out about the “Kraken wagon” later. My squids have been in free fall all season, I learn this not long after I catch a game (their 0-3 defeat to the Minnesota Wild). This is what I get for choosing teams based on jersey colours, it’s not too late to swap loyalties — my regulars, who have by now heard all about my latent ice hockey obsession, tell me this as I pour their coffees. They don’t get it yet. If I truly didn’t like the Kraken, I’d have given up on them by now. The jersey colours, at this point, are immaterial. The jerseys are a cute bonus.

Here’s the rub: no one ever expected them to make the Stanley Cup playoffs in their second ever season of existence, but they did — or, some past incarnation of them did. The shadow that this playoffs run casts, even now, is where the “wagon” accusations stem from. But I didn’t join them when times were good. I joined them after an 8 game-long skid into the boards.

It’s hard to love something when all you ever see are the worst parts of it, some might assume. Looking through the Kraken tag tells an entirely different story. Loving the Seattle Kraken has come so easily to me largely due to the tiny group of die-hard followers I’ve come into contact with. I have a tab perpetually open on my second monitor at home when I’m watching games, set to the Kraken’s liveblog tag, and each time I’ve tuned in has been the ride of my life. It’s clear from the speed at which we like and reblog each other’s posts that we’re all regularly checking the tag when something happens. It’s like the world’s most intimate Twitch chat section, the world’s least intimate discord call. We’re mutuals and besties, strangers and fellow fans — I imagine if we were in the stands together, we’d look at each other when our Kraken score and cheer together, maybe we’d scream and laugh in half-disbelief.

The Dallas Stars are at the top of the Western Conference’s central division table, and they play like it. In the first few minutes of the match, Duchene and Seguin blast through and slip one past Daccord, no easy feat given he’s been on fire himself recently. Time after time, the Kraken’s power play is wrecked. The Kraken are being given the runaround, having to doggedly chase down intercepted pucks where the Stars’ passes always seem to connect. Recovery from 0-2 might seem impossible from where they are at the end of the first period, but the Kraken bring to the second period the same energy they had for their relentless puck hunting. Matty B and Tuna — Beniers and Tatar  — put us on the scoreboard and keep us in it, even as we lose Canner and Belly to injuries. Recovery from such an early and demoralising goal deficit isn’t impossible, just increasingly unlikely when you’ve got no superstars and are trying to throw off the wagon allegations.

That’s another thing: expectations are low. And not in a way that’s meant to disrespect the Kraken players — it’s closer to how animals might ball up and protect their vulnerable, soft bellies from harm. Losing, to be perfectly candid, fucking sucks. Reminding ourselves that any gains — no matter how trivial — still count as a win is one way to stave off the inevitable heartbreak. Another way we do it is, to paraphrase several Kraken bloggers,  “staying silly”.

If I were to distill the essence of silliness, I’d start with hockey itself. This game is a goofy one, in spite of my past assertions about warrior’s codes and narratives and unspoken honour. On-ice collisions can in fact be the height of slapstick comedy; and today the tension of a potential line brawl was broken with, of all things, the arena DJ playing Mortal Kombat music. As for the people? Even as the Kraken went down two goals halfway through the first period, the posts and memes rolled in. 

Watching sports is meant to be a leisure activity. If the stress of it ever becomes too much for me, stepping away is vital. Having the denizens of krakenblr being silly alongside me is like having an extra layer of armour between us and the heartache of loss. We crack jokes about manifesting wins, about freeing our boys from the penalty box (they’ve never done anything wrong in their lives, ever, and even if they did those assholes had it coming), about our players who are babygirls, about the endless double-entendre made by Forslund and Olczyk. For each time we scored, for each penalty taken, each power play and penalty kill the tone set by everyone was simple: stay silly. 

In the last minute of the third period, the Kraken rally for one final push. With Daccord pulled from the net the 6-man rush is relentless, and they manage to get up in the Stars’ faces. This is the grit that so inspired my admiration. Though the recaps on the news feed might only list one or two names on the assist, the last goal of third period is thanks to everyone on the ice. The Kraken players perform as their namesake implies: as one they are a many-armed leviathan, come to drag you and yours down, down, down, into the deep.

Vince Dunn — Dunner or Vincess depending on who you ask — keeps the puck from the blue line, Wenny snatches it away from a tight spot between two Stars, and everyone works to feed it back onto Bjorkstrand’s tape. Bjorkstrand’s shot cracks down the line and into the crease — and how’s this for poetry: from the same goddamn place on the ice he shot the last time he had to even up a game going into overtime — and the ensuing scuffle ends with Tolvy tipping it past Wedgewood. After a deeply frustrating review from the situation room, the goal is called good and we’re confirmed for overtime. Various posts to the effect of, “No matter what happens, I love you all. We’ll be okay,” flood the tag as I refresh my page. With them, it truly ain’t that serious; and going into overtime, even knowing the Kraken have one of the least impressive OT records in the league, truly cements it for me. The Kraken will be my team for the foreseeable future.

I won’t keep you in suspense, if you’re reading this from the outside looking in. The game ends in a loss. But I’m no heavier than I was when the game started. On the contrary, I’m lighter. The little reservoir of dread that had built up inside me in the early hours of the game has been emptied by a tidal wave of sweetness, of sincere well-wishes and optimism. To the Kraken fans I’ve interacted with so far: thank you all so much for what is possibly the warmest welcome I’ve ever received to a fandom space, thank you for making this game and this team so easy to love, thank you for shielding my tender flesh from loss and making even defeats a little fun.

So what if the Kraken are a wagon? It’s a clown wagon, and we’re riding it together; hand in silly hand.

[anachilles]

🥃☕️ young!bucky and young!gale from the firehouse!au moodboard.

-> assorted ‘growing up’ headcanons under the cut <-

John:

Has two sisters.

Was sort of at a weird crossroad between being a jock and a bit of a burnout in school. Played ice hockey, mainly. He likes baseball a lot and played as a kid but didn’t keep it up because his school team sucked.

He struggled to function as he “should” in mainstream education settings, from incessant restlessness, hyperactivity/attention problems, organisational issues, seeming inability to translate what educators could see as natural intelligence into test scores that reflected that.

It got to the point where he’d fallen firmly into the “wrong crowd”; was drinking more, cutting class more and more. He was naturally clever, got good enough grades but not stellar, just enough to keep teachers and his mom off his back. Looking back on it as an adult, it was obvious his depressive tendencies had always sort of been there.

His dad died before he ever really knew him; was in the military and was killed in action. His picture still hangs in their living room back home to this day. It resulted in a misplaced idolisation of him and how his mom/family spoke about him maybe went some way to clouding Bucky’s vision around the “glory” of serving, made it an easier option to turn to when he was desperate for a purpose and some way to elevate himself than it should’ve been.

His mom cried and begged him not to when he told her he was enlisting right out of school. Now she says the best day of her life was when he told her he was leaving, that he was coming home.

He’s still in the habit of wearing his watch inside his wrist. Has to catch himself and turn it around more often than he’d like to admit.

Gale:

Grew up an only child.

For as far back as he could remember, his father had had a drinking problem. Gambling too, he realised later, when he was old enough to comprehend what that even was. And when he drank, he often got verbally abusive.

When he was around eight his mom went out of state to take care of her mom who was seriously/terminally ill, but then just… didn’t come back. He realises now that was her opportunity to escape and tries not to hold it against her. Unlike his dad, he does check in with her every handful of months.

There’s layers to how it’s all affected him, but primarily it made him very hyper independent. Like he became aware from a young age that he wasn’t getting out of this situation without pulling himself up and doing it for himself. So he threw himself into academics; math and science especially.

Grew out his hair long and “girly” when he was a teenager as a way to silently/non-combatively piss off his dad. He kept it right through his undergrad and a little bit into his masters before cutting it up short again; was very pretty and kept accidentally getting hit on my queer women.

As hinted at in chapter four, when he and Rosie first met as college freshman, they had an ill-fated, whirlwind five week fling that culminated in the mutual realisation that they’d never work romantically but were suited to be really close friends.

Was never allowed an actual pet, but secretly fed stray cats that hung around the back alley near their house on the sly with whatever he could scrounge from their kitchen.

Finds life easiest to navigate as a series of routines and ideas with fairly rigid borders.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Coffee, Tea, or Me? Inspired by the Twitter Post

Summary: As barista at Ross Colton's favourite Starbucks the two of you have formed a rather flirtatious relationship that hasn't gone any further than banter and serving drinks - but Ross finds that he needs to make things right after the social media team leaks his coffee order but associates it with the NHL's favourite coffee partner Dunkin Donuts. Word Count: 976

General Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @wingedwheelprxncess

In Tampa, Ross had more than enough choices of which Starbucks he could stop at on the way to the arena or the airport, and others closer to home when it came to his downtime. Some were much more convenient than others and fell on his direct route, but no matter his destination he was always making the time to make a stop at a certain location. The Starbucks you worked at. 

Ross found himself there almost daily when they were back in Tampa for a homestead, his order always the same, and his encounters with you just as sought after as the cold brew. The first time you had served him had been such a pleasant experience he had kept coming back - that was what he told you at least. It also helped that he found both your features and personality very attractive. With time and familiarity, you were on a first-name basis, and flirtations were blatant but never went beyond words. Words that he found himself pondering as he walked into the coffee shop for the first time since his 4-game road stint that included games in Montreal, Ottawa, Boston and Carolina. His lips split into a grin at just the sight of you, but before he could let the perfectly crafted line fall from his lips, you were leaning up against the counter with a smile of your own. 

“You cheating on me?” If it had been anyone else making such an accusation his blood might have run cold, but your words were playful and so was your smile. 

“On you? Never.” Ross countered as he came up to the counter in the coffee shop and propped himself up on the counter across from you. Thankfully it was a slow day and there was no line to hold up. 

“Oh really?” you challenged him, your brow raising playfully as you reached your hand down into your apron for your phone. It had only taken you a moment to pull up the picture and offer your phone out to him - and it coaxed a laugh up his throat in an instant. 

The picture had been taken from the Tampa Bay Lightning's social media pages, a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee cup edited to display his favourite coffee order, complete with one of his favourite goal celebrations in the top corner. 

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like,” his words were playfully pleading as a hand reached up and rested over his heart, “you know your coffee is the only one for me.”

You gave him a playful scoff that had him reaching over the counter to return your phone and as he returned it to you the touch of his fingers lingered against your own. “Forgive me, please, I’ll never drink another sip of another coffee-”

“So you did cheat on me!” you were grinning wider now as you threw your head back with a laugh. It had the other baristas starring, but he didn’t mind and neither did you. After his almost daily appearances and the mutual flirtations, they had more than gotten used to your antics. “I don’t know Ross, I don’t think I can trust you with my delicious cold brew.”

“I’ll do anything for that cup of coffee,” his words were desperate as his bright blue eyes held your gaze. 

“Anything?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he proclaimed as you slowly retracted your hand from his hold and slipped your phone back into your apron. 

“I’m going to need to sleep on it, but for now I think I can try to put this behind us just this once - but if I see you flirting with Dunkin again we’re through. My heart’s a fragile thing Ross, can’t have you running around breaking it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ross smirked as he remained leaning up against the counter. From there he watched you prepare the same drink he had ordered from you since the first time he had set foot in Tampa. It was there while he was propped up against the counter he noticed that you had changed the chalkboard that often featured location-specific specials and his smile only grew as it read The Colton in an elegant cursive font. Below it was the list of what he liked to add to his cold brew: almond milk and it was topped with caramel. 

“Alright, Ross, we got The Colton for you,” you smile across the counter at him as you noticed his eyes lingering on the sign. 

“You remembered the caramel swirl?” he cocked his head to the side playfully. 

“Have I ever forgotten?” you tilted your head to match the tilt of his own head as you leaned up against the counter again. From there you tapped his order lazily into the register. 

“No, never,” he nodded and placed cash down on the counter with a generous tip. 

“Ross I can’t accept this-”

“Just one of the ways I will make it up to you,” he winked before he wrapped his hand around his cup and raised it in a toast of farewell to your coworkers who continued to gawk, “see you, tomorrow ladies.”

The door chimed as it opened and closed behind him, leaving you standing alone in the coffee shop with your coworkers. They stood, arms crossed over their chest and smile on their lips. “The two of you just need to fuck already,” one quipped, “I don’t think I can take another day of that banter.”

You squealed out her name, your cheeks red hot as your eyes went wide. “It’s not like that-”

“Sure it isn’t,” her eyes rolled, “when he comes in tomorrow to make it up to you, and he asked what that anything you want is, you better say a date or else I’m saying it for you!”

[hearts4hughes]

hi congrats on your milestone!!!🫶🏻 could i request ❛ seeing you happy is all that matters. ❜ with luke hughes? thank you! :)

nora’s 500 celly !!

-

he watched discreetly as the love of his life walked into the small cafe. his body tensed as he tried to hide behind the small screen of his phone.

should be approach you?

your relationship with luke could be described as right person, wrong time. you and luke were perfect for each other. after meeting at a mutual friends party, you found yourselves chatting in the kitchen for most the night. at the end of the night, luke asked for your number, saying he’d like to go out with you. and that was the start to your love story.

sadly, you started dating during the beginning of his career as a new jersey devil. you went to all of his games and supported him through win or loss. but it wasn’t enough.

luke was constantly under stress and pressure from the team and the hundreds of fans supporting and watching him. they expected him to touch the ice and immediately turn into a hockey star. he was definitely gifted at the sport, but his impact in the nhl was something that would get bigger as his career progressed.

you tried explaining that to him. explaining that he went fresh out of college into a competitive sport, and that no one expected him to be amazing at it his first few games. however, he didn’t listen. he thought your words were out of pity, so he pushed you away.

he was out of the house almost everyday, coming home after midnight and making you worried sick and paranoid. at first, you thought he was cheating on you, but that was never the case. he was at the rink most nights, shooting pucks and skating around, something that he was almost embarrassed to admit.

soon it had gotten to the point when you didn’t care what luke was out doing. all that you knew was he didn’t care for you anymore, or at least he didn’t show it. so when he came clean about what he had been doing for all those late nights, it didn’t matter to you. you already had one foot out the door.

he knew he fucked up. god, he thought about it every night. if he had only showed you the love and care that you showed him, maybe you’d still be there. but he couldn’t turn back time.

fuck it, he thought as he left the comfort of his booth, and made his way over to you.

he stood in front of you, opening his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. feeling the presence of someone, you look up from your phone.

“luke?” you sounded pleasantly surprised. he smiled, still tongue tied. “oh my god, it’s been so long.” he beamed, bringing him into a bear hug.

“yeah, it has been.” he agrees. “i’ve missed you.” he admits as his cheeks turn a red hue.

you smiled softly, “i have too.”

you weren’t lying. you had missed luke like crazy. you missed cheering for him at his games and spending time with your best friend, but you didn’t miss him in any other way than that.

“we should-” his sentence was interrupted by your phone ringing. you looked down at the screen, smiling before excusing yourself to answer it.

his face fell. he knew that look- that smile. it was the same smile you used to give him. the same smile he memorized in his mind because of how happy it made him. however, nothing about that smile made him happy when it was directed at someone other than him.

“hey, babe.” you said, pressing the phone to your ear.

and just like that, luke’s heart shattered. his breathing stopped and it felt like time as well.

your call was short. he found himself blocking out most of it. he couldn’t hear his girl talking to another man the way you once talked to him.

you said your goodbyes into the phone, giggling over something luke couldn’t hear, and hanging up. “sorry about that, what were you saying.” your cheeks were still rosy from the sweet nothings your lover had whispered into the phone.

“um, it’s nothing. don’t worry.” he mustered up his best fake smile, but you could see right through him.

you frowned. “are you ok, luke?”

“yes, why wouldn’t i be?” he answers a little too fast. he smiles once again, but the shimmer that was once in his eyes, was lost. “seeing you happy is all that matters.”

“you can always talk to me, lukey. i want you to know that.” you reassure, comfortingly putting your hand on his shoulder.

he only nods in response.

“well, i have to get going, but it was nice to see you again.”

and just like that, luke watches the love of his life leave- once again.

[kitnita]

Talk Hockey To Me

(tag game)

tagged by @eliooliver83 @oetter & @txstars!! mwah thank you!!!

1. The thing that got you hooked on hockey

i am a lifelong member of the 'being insane about sports' club in that i still have a poster of my baseball team's 2005 roster hanging over my bed & used to get SO pissed in middle school when boys in my class had incorrect college basketball opinions. but hockey was just? never on my radar?? due to the south texas of it all. then i went to college for broadcast in new york state & made friends with some guys majoring in sports broadcast and was like wait ....... there's a sport they talk about that i can't talk about (i loved knowing more about sports than boys so this was a serious blow) (football doesnt count i decided when i was a kid that i didn't care about football therefore its not real) & a friend of mine with whom i watched the world series was like no i've got you i can get you into hockey. i realize now she just wanted an excuse to proselytize about the new york islanders.

but anyway yeah!! i stuck with being fond of them because of her & then added the stars because as a Texan i had to root for them & also tyler seguin hooked me. i was a casual fan until there were absolutely No Sports in 2020 & i accidentally stumbled upon hockeyblr just in time to get hyper mega insane about hockey before the bubble playoffs.

2. Your first ever fandom friend

like any normal well adjusted person i feel weird calling someone my friend even if we're friendly because what if they don't actually like me (again this is normal & well adjusted behavior) that said tanya txstars was the first hashtag mutual i had in starsblr whomst i feel like i talked to via the tags!!

3. The jersey you would most like to own

wait have i ever mentioned that i own a mooterus jersey. it was like eighty dollars off depop because its a) womens cut & b) a size small which means that while it does technically fit, my tits stop it from looking like, you know, a jersey should look on the human body. so i'd love one that i can wear without feeling ridiculous!! through logan stankoven all things are possible!!! i'm generally a jersey thrifter so i do love the $16 tyler jersey i found but im sure one day ill bite the bullet and buy a non-secondhand otter jersey.

4. YOUR player (you only get ONE so choose wisely)

unfortunately goalies are inherently endearing & then on top of that he's also insane in the most confounding way possible so jake oettinger is My Guy whether he likes it or not

5. A pairing that deserves more fic

as someone who has written just over half of the robotter fic out there in the world: please put more robotter fic out there in the world. also i think robo & otter both deserve to fuck otter's goalie partner. also also it's not technically a pairing but i think we as a people need to embrace delly's clear & evident love for throuples and start sticking him in other peoples relationships. it's what he would want <3

6. Your favourite on-ice moment

jason robertson laying flat on his back on the ice after finishing his first career hat trick lives in my head rent free btw. if you even care. it just plays on a fucking loop up there. also the the dellymiro delly's first goal celly. also also that time those flames fans tried to actually curse jake midgame. like on the one hand what the fuck but on the other hand i actually admire that kind of dedication yk

THEN

link someone else's art/fic/etc that you love & think everyone should check out

i'm still foaming at the mouth over @txstars's rule 63 robotter fic!! also i think it's clear what robo ship i've dedicated myself to but everyone in the roboroope trenches is soooo impressive to me. i see the vision. @winningmachine's stats guy robo fic is a foundational text. thank you @starscelly for also giffing insane random things during games. there's so many other fun people in starsblr specifically & hockeyblr generally but see above re: being normal and well adjusted so You Know Who You Are & also I Love Your Work

AND

link something you made & are proud of & want people to see

my magnum opus ............ the robotter primer. linking anything else feels weird BUT please enjoy my unhinged labor of love. i saw someone mentioned it to that gay hockey tournament blog but didnt want to link it?? please link it places. put how unhinged i was/am about them on blast.

tagging @coffeehound91 @moregraceful @hintzy!!! & also idk who has and hasn't been tagged so if you see this & would like to do it please do & feel free to tag me as the person who tagged you because i am a certified nosy bitch & love seeing other people talk about themselves <3

[misshoneyimhome]

Can you write for Trent Frederic? Maybe like telling him your pregnancy or first announcing you two are dating just pure fluff!

Oh babe! I am so so sorry this took forever 🤍✨

But I finally got around to it - Now, I couldn't quite decide on how to go about it... so I just kind off went with it and did both 🙈 Since it's my first time writing for Trent F. I had to do some research ofc; and I know it's a bit short, but hopefully you still enjoy it ❤️🤗

Tropes and warnings; just pure fluff, strangers to lovers, no warnings; pregnancy announcement

Word count: 1.7K

➼｡ﾟ

Next Chapter I Trent Frederic

The morning light streamed through the bathroom window, casting a soft glow over the room, and as you stood there and looked down at the plus sign indicating the result, a small curve slowly crept onto your lips. Your heart raced as you processed the reality of the situation. You knew it was soon in the process, and it had all happened a lot faster than you’d expected—yet, you knew this was a good thing for your next chapter. You felt a mix of exhilaration and nerves, knowing that your life was about to change in the most profound way.

So, over the next few hours, you couldn’t help but contemplate and think back on how everything had unfolded over the past couple of years. The house was quiet, the only sounds being the distant hum of city life and the occasional chirping of birds outside. You made yourself a cup of tea, sitting down at the kitchen table, your mind drifting to the pivotal moments that led you here.

How your life had turned upside down, just like that, in a way you’d never expected.

_

It all started with a friendly pickup hockey game organised by mutual friends back in 2018.

You had always grown up with hockey around you, your father playing all his life and then passing it on to your older brother. Weekends were spent at the local rink, the chill of the ice and the sharp sound of skates cutting through it became a comforting backdrop to your childhood. So, naturally you quickly learnt to lace up your skates and found your way onto the ice, much to the delight of your family.

Of course, your mother first thought you’d be on the ice as a beautiful princess of a figure skater. She had dreams of you twirling gracefully in sparkly dresses, capturing the hearts of audiences with your elegance. However, despite everyone trying to dress you up in tight suits and all that sparkling glitter, you instead always found your way to some sort of hockey gear and a stick to shoot a puck around with. The thrill of the game, the teamwork, and the adrenaline rush drew you in far more than the idea of being a figure skater.

In a way, you were a bit of a tomboy; always hanging out with a solid group of guys as well as other hockey-interested girls. You relished the camaraderie, the sense of belonging that came with being part of a team. And as far back as you could remember, you always preferred to hang out with your brother and his friends. In fact, this bond over hockey brought you closer to your brother, and eventually, to a wider circle of friends who shared the same passion.

Which eventually led you to the group of friends that set up the friendly hockey match during the winter of 2018.

And that’s when you met Trent.

Just another 20-year-old with a passion for hockey, hanging out with his group of friends, who hung out with another group of friends—and so on.

Long story short, you were all a bunch of hockey enthusiasts, joining together on a sunny winter Sunday in Boston, and as a newcomer to the city, Trent had joined his group of friends, which led to you all mingling coincidentally on an outdoor ice rink.

And apparently, your wide smile and vibrant enthusiasm caught Trent’s eyes immediately. So, for hours he thought about how to start up a conversation with you.

Trent wasn’t usually insecure about himself. He knew he was a young, charming lad, with a strong and impressive career. He knew he was a fighter, making his way to the best league in hockey—yet, seeing a girl like you had his stomach turn and he immediately rather wanted to get into a fist fight than trying to flirt with you.

Not that you were intimidating in any way. On the contrary. You were just so open, outgoing, and simply sparkling with joy. You had that captivating aura that just drew people in, and a part of him knew that if he didn’t at least try to talk to you—aware he might get rejected, he knew he’d regret it.

So, naturally, putting on his greatest smile and polishing his confidence, he skated up next to you when you were finally alone, having a sip of your water by the ice rink railing.

"Wow, you're not too bad for a non-pro," he teased, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

"Just trying to keep up with the big leagues, I guess," you shot back, feeling the warmth in your cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. You were used to holding your own among your brother’s friends, but Trent’s playful banter and genuine smile disarmed you in a way you hadn’t expected.

And when the game then ended, the easy camaraderie lingered. As you both decided to stay back and help clean up, Trent found the courage within and suggested grabbing a hot chocolate to warm up. 

One cup then turned into several, and before long, the two of you were lost in conversation, sharing stories and dreams long into the night. It felt natural, easy, like slipping into a favourite jumper. You found yourself laughing more than you had in ages, the connection between you undeniable. Neither of you knew it then, but that night was the beginning of something special.

_

Months into your blossoming relationship, it was clear that what you had with Trent was something special. Yet, announcing it to the world felt daunting - at least to you. 

Though you were used to the hockey world, being with a professional athlete came with its own set of challenges, and you weren't sure you were ready for the spotlight. The media scrutiny, the fans, the pressure of public perception—all of it weighed on your mind.

However, one evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Trent then pulled you aside in the empty rink. His eyes sparkled with excitement, his energy infectious, and you could see the determination in his expression, the way he had set his mind on something important.

"I want to tell everyone about us," he said, his voice full of determination.

But you hesitated, your mind racing with doubts. "Trent, it's a big step. Are we ready for this?" 

The what-ifs and potential fallout played on a loop in your head, but Trent’s presence grounded you.

Trent just took your hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. "I love you, Y/N. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want the world to know that you're mine, and I'm yours." His confidence was unwavering, and it gave you the strength to face your fears.

His words simply melted away all your fears. So, with a deep breath, you nodded. "Okay, let's do it."

And to your relief, the announcement was met with nothing but an outpouring of support from fans and teammates alike. The love and encouragement bolstered your confidence, and you felt more connected to Trent than ever before. The world now knew about your relationship, and it felt liberating. So, walking hand in hand, you faced the world together, ready for whatever came next.

_

Now, five years later, the playoffs were in full swing, and the Boston Bruins had just advanced to the second round. The excitement was palpable, but so was your anxiety. You had taken a pregnancy test that morning, and the positive result had left you reeling. The implications of this tiny plus sign were enormous, and you couldn’t shake the mix of joy and apprehension.

Though you knew it could happen anytime - aware of how biology works - it happened sooner than you expected. And with Trent's focus on the playoffs, you were unsure how to break the news without distracting him. So, you decided to wait until the right moment, hoping the Bruins would continue their winning streak.

But then when the team lost and their season ended, you suddenly saw an opportunity to lift Trent's spirits. The defeat was a heavy blow, and seeing your fiancé so despondent tugged at your heart. So, that night, as he sat quietly in your living room, his disappointment evident, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Trent, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice trembling slightly. The weight of your news felt immense, though you had a feeling it was something that could bring light into this dark moment.

He simply looked up, concerned about replacing the sadness in his eyes. "What is it, honey?"

Without any words, you just handed him the positive pregnancy test, watching as his expression shifted from confusion to shock - and then finally to pure joy. You could see the moment the reality of it hit him, his eyes widening in surprise.

"We're going to have a baby," you said, tears of welling up in your eyes, as the words felt surreal, yet so right.

And Trent's face just lit up with the biggest smile you'd ever seen. He swiftly stood up, lifting you into his arms and spinning you around. "Oh fucking yes! This is the best news ever!" he exclaimed, his excitement infectious, the room seeming to brighten with his happiness and the earlier gloom dispelled.

He then gently sat you down, his hands carefully resting on your belly. "I can't believe it. We're going to be parents."

You nodded, the weight of the moment sinking in. "Yes, we are."

Trent then pulled you in for a deep kiss, his joy and love overwhelming, as he allowed you both to sink more into the tender moment, before slowly pulling apart. "This is the perfect way to start the off-season, baby," he said, his voice full of promise. "I can't wait to start this next chapter with you."

And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, united by love and the new life growing within you. The journey ahead was filled with unknowns, but with Trent by your side, you felt ready for anything.

[senditcolton]

happy (early) birthday!! could I request #21 with andrei svechnikov please?

i realized that both of your requests were answered in the latter half and i am so sorry babe, i swear it wasn't on purpose. i hope you enjoy this fwb to lovers with a healthy dose of idiots to lovers.

You're not the only girl to scream my name but the first I can't resist.

When people asked you what the most surprising part about moving to Raleigh was, you always talked about how nice the weather is or how much there is to do in a town that isn’t really seen as a tourism/vacation spot.

While both of those things were true, you knew that in polite conversation, you couldn’t really say that sleeping with Andrei Svechnikov on the regular was actually the most surprising thing that happened.

But that was the truth.

When your new roommate casually mentioned that she was seeing someone on the Carolina Hurricanes, you didn’t expect anything more to come from it except that you might attend a few more hockey games than you originally planned. Instead, the first night you went out with her for a ‘tour of the city’ included a stop at a house party where you were introduced to half the team, Andrei included.

And that was where you hit it off with the star right winger.

The chemistry between the two of you was instantaneous, the night filled with heavy touches, lingering stares, and obvious tension until finally Andrei asked if he could kiss you and you replied by capturing his lips in yours. It continued back to your apartment where Andrei made you fall apart twice with his head buried between his thighs before even entering, the cocky confidence that you had heard he possessed on the ice translating seamlessly into the bedroom, with good reason.

After the two of you collapsed breathlessly against your sheets, you wondered what power there was out there that lead you to find someone as amazing as him in the first month of your relocation. The amazement grew when you two reached a mutual agreement to keep things causal from that very first night. You were busy with work that you didn’t have time for anything that took more energy from your than necessary. Andrei had hockey and was gone half the year anyways.

It made things easier for both of you. Neither of you had to create excuses to leave afterwards, didn’t have to put the effort into finding someone new whenever you had the desire. The two of you were on the same page, mutual booty calls and neither of you minded because that was exactly what you both were looking for.

A month had passed before things started changing between you two.

It wasn’t anything major at first. Andrei sometimes called you randomly to come over late at night and you sometimes you invited him over after practice to have quickie in your shower before he left to get ready for his game. It was still casual, still just about the sex.

Then one night, your roommate asked you to join her, Sebastian, and a few of the other guys to go bowling. You thought about declining when you realized Svech would be there, not wanting to breach any sort of unwritten rule in your agreement and appear in front of him in a public place when he wasn’t the one the to explicitly invite you.

But when you decide to come, Andrei surprised you by pulling you into a giant hug as soon as you approached the table with your roommate. He didn’t seem to mind your presence. In fact, he said that he was ‘happy that you were here’ without a hint of irony in his voice, a boyish grin on his lips. The two of you stayed close together the entire night, his hand finding a place on your lower back or your thigh, your hand occasionally falling on his bicep. At one point, you found yourself perched on his lap, your arm tossed casually over his shoulders as you laughed with the rest of his friends.

Soon, you were being invited by Andrei to any team outing, whether it was to bars or restaurants or even the golf course a few times. You often times accepted his offer when your schedule allowed you to and whenever you did decline, it was never taken as a slight. In fact, the new development in your friendship operated similarly to your already existing friends with benefits agreement; either of you could reach out and you both could decline for any reason.

In fact, the closer friendship that had developed made the sex even better between you two because now, you knew that you could joke around with each other and be honest. The causal relationship became even easier.

It took two months to pass before you started to really think over the dynamics of you and Andrei’s relationship. What used to be just hookups where you left immediately afterwards changed into occasional sleepovers which turned into nights spent wrapped up in Andrei’s arms and his sheets unless you absolutely had to return home because of an early morning the next day.

Spending the night grew into coffee runs before Andrei dropped you off at your place and soon, you were spending mornings with Andrei, the both of you making your own breakfast. And yet, through all of this, your friendship lasted. The only time you seriously thought about ending things was when you witnessed the atrocity of Andrei pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal and you gasped like someone had just scandalized you, causing Svech to laugh and say that it all ended up the same way regardless.

And then, suddenly, it was as if your original friends with benefits agreement had never existed. You still had sex when you two felt like it but it became more of a friendship than anything else. The majority of your time together wasn’t spent after midnight when you both were tipsy; instead, you had dinner at his place before curling up on the couch together, falling asleep before it escalated into ‘Netflix and chill’… which was never the intention in the first place.

There was no lingering fear about the unwritten rules of hookup culture, of crossing invisible lines. Instead, you had a friend that you could vent to, someone who would stroke your hair while you laid across his lap. Andrei had the same thing in you; someone he could talk to after a rough loss and someone who didn’t see him as the hockey superstar Svechnikov but someone who saw him for who he really was.

It was your roommate that confronted you about your relationship with Andrei one day. She was still seeing Sebastian and had seen Svech leaving your apartment enough to know that the two of you were still ‘together’. But she had noticed that the relationship the two of you shared, whatever it was, had turned into something more than just friends with benefits, no matter how much you tried to deny it.

You initially brushed her off, vehemently stating that there was nothing else going on between you and Svech. But the lingering question bothered you more than you cared to admit, soon becoming the source of many sleepless nights.

But no matter how much it troubled you, you never brought it up to Andrei. He hadn’t given any indication things had changed and you didn’t want to risk your friendship by asking him if he wanted something more.

It wasn’t until Andrei breezed into your apartment after a long road trip, a bag of take out from your favorite restaurant in his hands, passing by you in the kitchen with a soft kiss on your temple before placing the food on the counter, returning to you and spinning you to face him.

“I missed you,” he says, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips before pulling away. “I got us Chinese and I figured that we could watch a few episodes of that new reality TV series that you’ve been telling me about… Temptation Island?” He continues, his voice so nonchalant that you thought you must have misread the entire situation.

“What’s wrong?” Andrei’s voice pulls you from your reverie as he notices the perplexed expression painted your face. You shake your head gently, forcing a smile up towards him.

“Nothing. How was the road trip?” you ask, attempting to shift the conversation.

“It was fine. Now, tell me what’s wrong,” Andrei replies, not letting go so easily. You chew on your bottom lip, your eyes breaking away from his before you decide to take the leap.

“What are we?” you ask, hesitance lacing your words as you see Andrei’s face fall. His silent response causes you to launch into a rambling of every thought that had been jostling around your mind for the past two months.

“Like, I know this started as a causal, no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits situation and I was fine with that – still am fine with that. But lately things have felt different. The sleepovers, the breakfasts, the movie nights and now, you come breezing into my house like this is our life, like you’ve always been coming home to me. You say you missed me and you greet me with a kiss and all this domestic intimacy and it’s just… confusing me. I just want to know where your head is at because I don’t want to make the assumption. I mean, if this is all still casual and you want to keep it that way, that’s fine but if you want to date, let me know because I, um, yeah, I just want to know if I’ve completely misread this whole situation.”

You conclude, hoping that you were at least somewhat understandable through your ranting as you looked up to Andrei, waiting for his expression to change, waiting for any indication on what he was thinking. It felt like ages before her finally spoke.

“Is it bad if I say I kind of already thought we were dating?”

“What?” you reply, expecting anything but that to come from his mouth. You watch as a sheepish expression appears on his face and his arm raises to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve always kind of thought that we became something more like… three months ago or so. I didn’t make a big deal out of it because you didn’t and our relationship just progressed so naturally that it didn’t feel like we needed to make a big deal out of it.”

“You’re serious?” you ask, the light-hearted laugh bubbling from your lips before you could stop it.

“Surprise?” he replied, his shoulders raising in a shrug and the laughter comes freely, Andrei responding in kind, the two of you devolving into giggles at the unexpected but completely welcomed turn of events.

“Does that mean that I can start calling you ‘my boyfriend’?”

“I sure hope so because I’ve been calling you ‘my girlfriend’ every time someone asks.”

“So, dozens of people knew we were dating before I did?”

“I don’t know what to tell you babe.”

[gregorygerwitz]

“Are you always this shy?” Gregory/Jay

I'm sorry this took almost a year to get to and also that it's hockey AU. that's just where I'm at this weekend.

The sound of the locker room door opening and closing again made Jay look over his shoulder. It could be anyone - teammates, a coach, someone lost looking for the bathroom, it was a public arena, and it wasn't like their security team was paid enough to guard the locker room when it wasn't even a game day. He'd stayed late after the usual practice, practicing his wrist shot from all different angles on the ice. It probably wouldn't help much when it came to actually playing, but it meant he had an hour of private ice time, and he thought that quiet privacy would extend to the locker room.

Apparently he was wrong.

And then he saw the figure that came around the corner, and an involuntary smile tugged at the edge of his lips. He recognized the grey suit, the green tie that had stood out against the blue of the seats while he was skating in circles all afternoon. It wasn't abnormal, the owner's son lingering around the arena if he didn't have anywhere else to be, and really, it was just so he could report back to his father.

No one had to know that Gregory's favorite afternoons were when Jay stayed late, when it would only be the two of them if he slipped into the locker room for a few minutes. No one had to know what he did or said there, and that was how it needed to be.

Jay watched him glance around, double checking that they really were alone before the space between them was closed. They didn't greet with words, just the briefest press of lips, and it made warmth blossom through his chest. Practice always worked up a sweat, but there was something different that happened with his heartrate when his boyfriend snuck in to see him in the middle of the week.

"Are you always this shy?"

It was easy to keep his voice light and teasing, gentle and quiet as if there was anyone around to hear it at all. It was easy to joke, as if there wasn't an insane amount of risk just spending a few minutes together, as if Jay wasn't risking his career with their relationship and Gregory wasn't risking his entire life.

But the words earned him a small smile, soft and easy, one of the ones that even shone in those blue eyes he loved so much. "I am, actually. Most people think I like to show off for the cameras, but I really hate all the attention. I think we've talk about this."

"Mmhmm..."

Jay couldn't stop himself from grinning, then, leaning in for another short kiss before they had to separate again. They really couldn't linger, not without raising some suspicion, and they did have to leave separately. They didn't need anyone asking questions, even the innocent ones. It meant they got one or two kisses, three when they were lucky, a few whispered jokes, and then they parted, until the next time. When they were really lucky, there was a Blackhawks game they could justify going to together, research for Jay's own playing, but this week wasn't a lucky one. They wouldn't get any private time until the next afternoon practice, and business meetings could come up at any moment, or...

"I'm going to Denver with my dad this weekend, some business brunch. I won't be able to come to your game. I'm sorry..."

"Not your fault." Jay shook his head quickly, ignoring the ache in his chest while he forced his smile to stay in place. "There's always the next one. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Okay..." Each new foot of space between them while Gregory retreated only strengthened the ache he felt, and he knew it was mutual. Those familiar eyes showed that much, and he didn't even have to look that hard. "Score a point for me?"

"Every point is for you."

And then the locker room door opened again, and closed again, and he was back to being alone.

[ question prompts ]

[starry-hughes]

hey Star! I've got a ton of Mooch worldbuilding-y questions for you if that's okay?

1) Mooch is drafted sixth overall to the Nucks and it's strongly implied she's the first (and only) girl in mens' hockey - is there a reason the Nucks draft her in the first round when she's not on anyone else's radars? or is it your classic Nucks Nucking a pick, plus Hughes Heritage?

2) does Mooch keep in contact with any women's hockey players? I'm thinking she could especially be a mentor to someone like Nela Lopusanova.

3) what number does Mooch wear? is she a forward or defenseman? (sounds like she's not a goalie LOL I can imagine her being bullied into goal as a kid though despite mama Ellen's protests and playing EBUG one night when something happens to Demko and being good at it...)

4) is Mooch an enforcer? by the amount of shit she gets up to it sounds like it. or more like a power forward? does she play top six or bottom six? center, winger?

5) I can imagine Mooch being treated by some assholes in the media as a "gimmick pick" and "gimmick player" and "least talented Hughes who starts fights on the ice because she can't play" and "they only play her because she's a girl" and "if the Canucks can't get into the playoffs at least they can promote a gender equal agenda". I can also imagine every goddamn team in the league shutting that shit down reeeeal quick. The Nucks put out a statement from their players, Jack and Luke round up every single Devil to film a video about it too, other players she knows well also start posting stuff about it...

6) that being said, rat Mooch content is something I think the world DESPERATELY needs.

(also tbh I always thought "mooch" was short for "mutual" the more you know!)

🔥

1. she’s a good player but everyone is just kinda nervous about picking a girl. the hughes aspect definitely plays into the fact that the canucks pick her. in a stacked draft, she’s extremely surprised she was taken so high and was not expecting it at all.

2. mooch tries to be as connected with womens hockey as much as she can. she plays on osu’s team before she plays with the canucks. she wants to mentor the young girls who are coming up in the womens leagues

3. she’s a forward and also wears 86 like jack. it’s funny to have all four hughes in the league and that the defensemen of the siblings share a number and the forwards share one.

4. because she’s with the canucks and one of their faster skaters, she’s more of a net-driving winger and top six. she is the fastest and best skater out of the four siblings.

5. it’s definitely hard for her being in the league with misogyny from not only the league itself but also fans. in my head, she was literally changing in a broom closet until it was brought up that she needs her own space to get ready in. but the canucks definitely post about it and other teams begin to post in support of her. and taken other random players from around the league post as well.

6. she’s definitely a bit of a pest, our little rat. just because she’s literally the shortest person in the league and can just shove herself into small spaces and she also knows her team will go to war for her. she picks fights sometimes but she likes it when people actually treat her as they would anyone else. she definitely gets her shit rocked sometimes but she always gets back up.

(also, moot is the mutuals term!!)