#get me the fuck off the ice and the media room when that teams on

[fullsundiall]

NHL ALL STAR TEAMS BUT every team is determined by your draft (or would be) year:

Team "Old Men" (2005-2012)

Forsberg - Crosby - Kucherov

Hertl - Miller - Vatrano

Jenner - Trocheck - Wilson

Reilly (solo defensemen, plays 60 minutes a night)

Hellebuyck

Bobrovsky

Talbot

Team "Sassy Bitches" (2013/2014)

Nylander - MacKinnon - Pastrnak

Draisaitl - Lindholm - Reinhart

Oliver Bjorkstrand

NO DEFENSE WE DIE LIKE MEN

Demko

Shesterkin

Georgiev

Team "All Offense" (2015/2016)

Kaprizov - McDavid - Konecny

Boeser - Matthews - Marner

Connor - Aho - Keller

Barzal - DeBrincat

NO DEFENSE OR GOALIE FUCK IT WE BALL

Team "Young'ns" (2017+)

Hughes - Petterson - Thomas

Tkachuk - Suzuki

Hughes - Makar

Dahlin

Swayman

Oettinger

[pomegranatesarchive]

personal assistant | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x assistant!reader

summary: the one where lando norris is dating his assistant.

liked by user1, user2, and 124,730 others!

f1updates: y/n and lando have arrived for the media day at the british gp. y/n arrived about an hour earlier then lando. both arriving in style!

view comments below!

user3: oh she looks so good

user4: IKRRRR THAT DRESS?? HOLY

user5: sometimes i forget y/n went to fashion school until she shows up in these AMAZING outfits and im like YUP! she knows what she's doing

user6: i see y/n dressed lando today...

user7: ofc she did! when lando shows up in something other then team gear then we have y/n to thank

user8: she did such a good job!! he looks so good🤭

user9: why does y/n always arrive earlier 😕 i want to see them walk in together

user10: she's said the thought of arriving late makes her extremely anxious so she rather just arrive earlier then everyone else 😭

user11: i get her. she is me. i am her. we are one.

user12: y/n dating someone who loves to sleep in while she's the complete opposite is so?? 😭

user13: yns so pretty

user14: i wish i was y/n. or lando. idk i just want to be famous

user15: does anyone know where he shoes are from??

user15: guys pls??

user15: A LOT OF YOU ARW LIKING THIS BUT NOT RESPONDING

user15: JUST TELL ME WHERE THE FUCKING SHOES ARE FROM

user15: I HATE YOU ALL

liked by user16, user17, and 62,739 others!

ynandlandoupdates: y/n and lando taking photos with fans after practice today!

view comments below!

user16: is she wearing landos jacket🥹

user17: yea!! there's a video going around of him giving it to her. it was truly adorable

user18: i was there! y/n was so nice and was handing out umbrellas, she was super shocked when people asked her for a photo 😭

user19: pls tell me someone gave her a bracelet or something???

user18: the guy next to me handed her a bracelet with landos name 😭she said she'll never take it off and got super flustered

user20: you guys don't understand how much i love y/n, like handing out umbrellas??? she's for the people!!

user21: people who hate on y/n must be sore losers because how are you going to hate on that beautiful AND KIND woman??

user22: lando with the backwards hat??

user23: what is it with f1 drivers and backwards hats?? max, lando, charles, carlos they always look SO GOOD

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen, and 635,915 others!

landonorris: pre-race date!🧡

view comments belown

user24: race week dates are back!! 🤭🤭

user25: ahhhh so cute

danielricciardo: cute ig.

landonorris: jealousy is a disease, get better soon😝

maxverstappen1: remind y/n that we agreed on playing mario cart at 11 pm tonight.

maxverstappen: please.

user26: lando and max this lando and y/n that. WHAT ABOUT Y/N AND MAX?? ARE YOU SEEING THIS ☺️☺️ so cute

landonorris: she has been reminded!

maxverstappen1: thank you

user27: do you think max is sitting by his tv waiting for y/n to join?

user28: oh he totally is

user29: she looks so good??

user30: she literally belongs on vogue, holy

oscarpiastri: bring me back that fancy ice cream

landonorris: no!

yoursername: lando 😡 wait by your room oscar we'll be there in a bit!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, and 392,947 others!

yourusername: post race date!

view comments below!

user31: lando was so disappointed until y/n came up to him, hope all you y/n haters who think she's not good for him see this and throw up

user32: y/n posting literally NOTHING except date night pictures is truly so cute and funny at the same time

user33: that dress 😍

landonorris: beautiful girl 🥰🥰

maxverstappen1: simp 🫵

maxverstappen1: by the wayyy can y/n play mario cart tonight?

landonorris: yes she can🙄

maxverstappen1: great! ill be waiting

user34: max going from hating to wanting to play with y/n is tooo funny

user35: yns whole aesthetic is so cute

user36: oh to be y/n going on a date night with lando norris after the british gp

user37: y/n and lando running away after the race to go on a date is the cutest thing

user38: SHES GETTING THAT DICK EVERYDAY SHES GETTING THE DICK EVERYDAY SHES GETTING THAT DICK EVERYDAY 😣😣

user39: THAT SHOULD BE MEEE

user40: who do you guys think take these photos?@/maxverstappen1@/oscarpiastri @/ danielricciardo???? who is it 🤨

danielricciardo: i refuse to third wheel.

maxverstappen1: they never like my photos 😕

oscarpiastri: …it's me 🥲

. . .

notes: I'm so sorry if this sucked?? there's like no plot but i wanted to get a lando fic out so here's this!

[cheriladycl01]

Qatar Heat - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Everyone has a hard time at the Qatar GP, most needed medical attention once the race finished, some drivers retired and some continued even though they threw up in their helmets. What happens when the female of the grid, who already struggles with body temperature regulation finishes the race?

It was Thursday, which was media day in Qatar which meant that right now you were walking round the paddock in shorts and your Aston Martin Team top.

"Lance, hey are you okay?" You ask your team-mate. You'd known him since last year as the reserve driver for Aston Martin, Seb wanted you to take his place after retirement.

"Yeah, its just so hot. And Henry's still making me do training" he complains.

"I know but think we got the ice bath's later!" you grin excited to have the ice bath. After a hot day of training it was like a reward. So you did your ball exercises and you did a track run for the media team. Afterwards you were about to lay down on the track ground but it was blistering when you put your hand to it.

"Tires are gonna get shredded" you complain a little out of breath to Jessie your personal trainer.

"Can we go get water and smoothies now?" You ask and Sid one of the media guys who had followed you around today nods. You guys get out of the sun before running into the garage and collecting as many people's orders from the garage as you can.

You bring everyone back what they wanted on a tray. Sid filmed you the whole time, so he could upload it to the Tik-Tok saying that the new Aston Martin waitress is pretty cool. And another one joking that you can always fall back on waitressing if F1 falls through which you found hilarious.

"Okay, Lance Y/N. Ice bath time!" Mike Krack informs you both. You go into your driver room changing into your bikini that'd you'd brought with you. You pull the Aston Martin polo back over, feeling as though it would be odd to walk out the back of the motorhome in a bikini.

You see the cameras on you and immediately smile. You go up very close to the camera.

"Hi guys, i felt awkward coming out in just my bikini so Aston Martin Representation!" you whisper before stepping back and poking your thumbs at your top to show them what you were talking about, as if it wasn't obvious.

Looking to your left, Lando, Oscar, Alex and Logan were also all doing icebaths out the back of the motorhome too.

"Looking good boys" you shout after wolf whistling in their direction, they all laugh having finished their icebaths coming over to you and Lance.

"Come on" Alex gestures you towards the ice bath. You roll your eyes pulling the top over your head and passing it to Alex, he steps back looking at the other three boys who are shamelessly staring at you.

You were the current youngest on the grid. 21 years old, so Oscar, Logan and Lando all took a liking to you, not only because of the age similarities but because of your sense of humor.

"Ready Lance, you ask your team-mate whose shirt was just pulled off and handed to Mike who was helping the social media team.

"Lets make this interesting. First to fully submerge wins"

"That's not exactly fair your from Canada...okay your on" you shout and before anyone can blink your jumping into the ice bath. Your up to your thighs before you watch as Lance starts to sink down. Not even thinking about the cold you just force your whole body down. You can feel the cold all around your hair as it floats up and you can feel the cold water on your eyelids.

You come back up with a gasped breath before looking over at all of them.

"Who won, it was me right?" you say with your eyes blown wide as Lance emerges.

"Yes, but your fucking crazy" Lando laughs looking at the smile that comes across your face.

"Hahaha Suck that Stroll! I win" you say looking over at him.

"Ohhh you know what we should do" you say looking over at the camera that was still pointed at you.

"We should do a thirst trap of me, so people can edit me on TikTok!" you exclaim and Oscar chokes, while Logan and Land laugh as your started to lean back in the bath, running your hands through you hair.

"Y/N how many times have we talked about this" Your PR manager exclaims trying to stop the admins from filming.

"Oh come on its what they want!" You exclaim.

After that night, you went out for food, a healthy meal of course that Lance payed for as the looser of the bet.

Friday First Practice was good, you'd come in 4th just behind the two Ferrari's and Max.

Qualifying was just as good, you were starting in 4th next to Lewis, with George and Max ahead of you for Sunday's race and that was locked in. It was exhausting, you were boiling but you pushed. Lance was angry with the car performance and got angry at Henry, you were shocked to see and hear what happened when you were still driving and scolded Lance, before nearly fainting from being dizzy.

Again, you did the ice bath dinner and slept.

Now to focus on Saturdays sprint. You did well in the first two sprint shoot outs. But ended up retiring the car in Q3, starting in 9th position.

You were so faint for the whole race. Today, it was hotter than all the other days. Your fireproof felt more clingy to your skin than usual and the water in the car was heating up quicker than it normally did.

At one point during the sprint race the water was so disgusting to drink you actually spat it out in your helmet on reflex.

You finished in 8th gaining 1 point for the team who congratulated you. You stayed in the car as you pulled into the garage for a minute before you stripped of in the garage down to tank top and your underwear. You sat on the cold garage floor, head in your hands as you panted, looking for breath.

A team member brought an orange juice up to you, tapping you on the shoulder to which you shake there hand and thank them for the gesture.

You sip it slowly, not wanting to gag like you had before.

"How you doing sweetheart" Mike comes up to you, everyone in the garage had reported to him, how red and beat up you look coming out the car. You look at him and nod.

"It's always been harder for me" you laugh looking up at him wiping the sweat from your forehead before it falls down into your eye.

"What do you mean?" he asks crouching down so he's at a similar level to you.

"I mean, you've probably never checked my medical papers right. And women struggle with heat more than men anyway but my body doesn't regulate its temperate that well... so I've always struggled with being hot in the car but this is next level" you sigh to him.

"Are you going to be okay to race. We can get Drugovich to fill" Mike says concern filling his face as he can tell your struggling from the speech pattern and labored breathing.

"No i promise I'll be okay and I'll bring us home points" you smile.

I'm going to go congratulate Oscar on his Sprint win. You smile before holding you hand out for help. He helps you up and you trot over to Mclaren pulling the taller male into a hug the minute you see him.

"You did amazingly Ozzie" you grin, still holding onto him.

"Hey! I did well as well" Lando interrupts and you roll you eyes before turning to look at the man baby behind you.

"Yes yes, well done on P3 Lando Norris" you grin pulling him towards you and hugging him. He hugs you back before lifting you and squeezing you making you groan at the harshly shown affection that you were used too.

"How you feeling about tomorrow starting P4?"

"I'm hoping for a podium with my boys" you grin, pulling them both in, one arm round each of them.

"With us starting P6 and P10. I doubt that" Oscar groans, knowing he stuffed up Qualifying the other day, along with his team mate.

"Never say never. Tomorrow's going to be a hard race for everyone"

Sunday was the day that everyone struggled as you'd said.

Max actually ended up crashing out, and after coming back on the track, the car didn't have the pace it had from the start of the weekend.

"Come on Y/N, win in rookie season will look amazing. Keep holding. You've got Oscar behind 2.3 seconds gaining and Lando behind him. 3 laps left" you engineer inform.

"Guys the heat's really getting to me" you voice but its barley recognizable through the radio.

"Not long left, just push until the end" the engineer says but his voice waivers, he could tell you were struggling but unlike Logan who retired early on, lap 40 and with only three laps left there was no point especially when you were this close to a win.

"I - I know" you waiver, you control the car, speeding up trying to get this done as quickly as possible.

Martin Bundle - AND IN HER ROOKIE SEASON Y/N Y/L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2023 QATAR GRAND PRIX

"Guy's I need to get out this car now" you cry, tears forming in your eyes.

"Okay copy that"

"I cant move" you cry, the only thing that was able to move from your body was your hands which were shaking.

"We're sending pit crew to help" your engineer says. You see race marhsalls come up to your car, where Oscar and Land pull up alongside you. They both jump out hugging their team who were stood their waiting for them both. They turn to congratulate you thinking you'd be there next to them with the Aston Martin team but see you still sat in the car.

"Oh my god, she's shaking" Oscar says looking closer at you.

"She's in shock, from the heat" Lando says running over Oscar behind him.

"Y/N hey hey hey. Its okay its okay" Lando says flicking up your visor so he could see you. He honestly could have cried at the sight. He saw you looking so exhausted and out of it, the tears in you eyes and the sweat underneath them mixed.

"Come on baby lets get you out" Oscar voices, pulling Lando back by the shoulder and leaning down into the car, putting his arms under your knees and the other behind your back before lifting and pulling you out the car.

"Can we get a cold towel over here" Lando shouts which makes your head dizzy. Oscar sits you on the car wheel, pulling your helmet off, and then your balaclava. You were extremely red in the face but he still thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

So did Lando, he had for a while, and he would always flirt with you when you were the reserve Aston Martin driver. But he cared for you, and seeing you like this pulled at his heart strings.

"You did so well today darling" he compliments. He pulls back your hair that was sticking to your face, doing it in a low bun so it wasn't tight but was out of your face and off your neck.

Lando unzips your race suit, pulling it down off your shoulders so your in your fireproof top before laying the cooling towel around you neck.

"Just breath" he smiles at you handing you and Oscar an icy bottle of water than was handed to him by his team. They got you to the cool down room where you sat on the floor with your back against the wall and your cheek resting on the cold marble.

"Great race guys. Said I'd have a podium with my... my boys" you smile, before you feel the urge to throw up. You get on your knees grabbing the bin before spilling the food you'd eaten before the race into the bin. Oscar sits next to you rubbing your back.

"Come on lets go get weighed" Lando sighs. Oscar goes first, the you and Lando watches the figure seeing you'd lost a whole 6 kilograms which meant that you'd lost 9 over the whole weekend. He, Oscar and Logan would all have to go out for a big meal to all put the weight back on.

The podium was amazing, first place and sharing a podium with Lando and Oscar had never felt better. It was a shorter podium as they wanted all of you to seek medical attention. You were eventually declared to have heatstroke and were forced on home rest in a nice a/c-ed room and lost of Peach Ice Tea's.

One thing for sure was you never wanted to race in Qatar as this time of the year again.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[willowsnook]

Wouldn't have it any other way

rye with salami, ranch, and mikes way please and thank you! (idk if i did that right, i've never done this before)

jack hughes x reporter!reader

she isn’t you

——————————————————

Working as a reporter covering the NHL was a childhood dream of yours that came true. You worked your ass off in college, having internships each summer which led to an opportunity at ESPN that turned full-time after you graduated. You were ecstatic when they moved you to New Jersey to cover the Devils. It had been six months and so far you had gotten along well with all the players…well except one.

“Ya we got whacked two games in a row, so the last thing you want to do is stand and talk in front of you guys,” Jack Hughes told the small group of reporters crowding his locker, you included. You rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Something to say, sweetheart?,” he said, eyes honing in on you.

You felt your cheeks flush with anger at his condescending tone. "It's our job to ask questions, Hughes. If you can't handle that, maybe you should find a new career."

The locker room fell silent, all eyes darting between you and Jack. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer.

"And maybe you should find a new team to cover if you can't handle a little attitude," he shot back.

The tension was palpable. You'd butted heads with Jack since day one, his arrogance rubbing you the wrong way. But this felt different, more charged.

"I can handle you," you replied, holding his gaze. "Question is, can you handle the heat when you're not performing on the ice?"

A collective intake of breath from the other reporters. Jack's eyes flashed dangerously.

"That's enough," the Devils’ PR manager said, ushering the reporters out of the locker room. You shot Jack one last glare as you followed the rest of the pool out. You knew you were going to get your ass chewed by your boss but you couldn’t help it. Jack was infuriating.

Unfortunately, your phone rang the second you were out of the arena and you listened to your boss rant at you. The moment was apparently already blowing up on social media and it was not a good look for you or Jack really. Half of the internet said you were too young to be in your job and wildly unprofessional while the other half defended you, calling Jack a dick who needs to respect women. There was another weird fan side of hockey twitter that were now actively shipping the two of you together, claiming it could be a perfect enemies-to-lovers story.

—————————————————————-

Headphones in, you watched workers out the window as they loaded luggage onto your plane. New Jersey to Vancouver was a long flight so you had splurged, upgrading yourself to first class to try maybe and get some actual sleep. The seat next to you was still empty and as the time ticked by you grew more hopeful that it would remain that way but nothing good lasts forever.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” a voice called out next to you and you looked up to meet the eyes of none other than Jack Hughes.

Your heart sank as Jack glared down at you, his tall frame looming over your seat. Of all the people to be stuck next to for a cross-country flight, it had to be him.

“Why aren’t you flying with the team?” You questioned.

“I overslept and missed the flight,” he muttered and you snorted.

Jack huffed as he stowed his carry-on and slid into the seat beside you. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. You both sat rigidly, avoiding eye contact as the rest of the passengers boarded.

As the plane began to move, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Jack. His jaw was clenched, hands gripping the armrests tightly. Was he... nervous?

"You okay there, Hughes? Not scared of flying, are you?" you teased, unable to resist.

He shot you a withering look. "I'm fine.”

But as the plane started to take off his breathing grew more rapid and you started to get concerned. You hit a bit of turbulence trying to level out, and Jack’s hand moved towards yours, gripping it tightly.

“Sorry,” he rasped, but you kept your hand in his, caressing his skin softly with your thumb.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “Just try and breathe.”

“I’m trying,” he snapped and you rolled his eyes. “I need you to distract me.”

“How?”

“Just tell me something about you I don’t know,” he asked looking over at you pleadingly.

“Hockey isn’t my favorite sport,” you said instantly. It felt like your dirty secret being a hockey reporter, but it was the truth.

Jack let out a strained chuckle, “oh yeah, what is?”

“Football,” you replied and he nodded at you to keep going. “I fell in love with it when I was just a kid watching Brett Farve. Him leaving the Packers was my first real heartbreak in life. I like college football more now and while I love the atmosphere of hockey, there is nothing like a Saturday night home game in the palace. The lights illuminating the fields, the smell of popocorn and hotdogs, the fight song playing in the background, and everyone knows that $20 beer tastes better watching your favorite team. What’s more romantic than that?”

If Jack didn’t have the history he had with you, he thought he might have fell in love with you right then and there. His grip on your hand loosened slightly as he listened to you speak, his breathing becoming more even. He found himself captivated by the passion in your voice as you described your love for football.

"I never would have guessed," he said softly, a hint of a smile on his face. "You always seemed so... intense about hockey."

You shrugged, feeling a bit vulnerable having shared something so personal. "It's my job. I take it seriously."

"Maybe too seriously sometimes," Jack muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

The plane leveled out and you both realized you were still holding hands. You quickly pulled away, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Thanks," Jack said, avoiding your gaze. "For, you know... helping me through that."

You nodded, unsure how to respond. This was the most civil conversation you'd ever had with Jack Hughes, and it felt weird. The rest of the flight went by without a spectacle; you were happy to catch some shut-eye, and woke up as you were about to land, Jack nudging you awake. He grabbed your bag for you, and you followed him off the plane, stopping when he turned to face you.

“Back to our regularly scheduled business of hating each other,” he said with a smirk, and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Hughes,” you shot back before heading off.

—————————————————————————

After a long call with your boss the next day, you were very irritated. Since the Devils were playing the Canucks, he wanted a short fluff piece about the Hughes brothers reuniting.

“It won’t be that bad,” Luke said after you tracked him down to tell him about the assignment. “You love me, and Quinn will love you.”

“I’m not worried about you two,” you told him with a look. “I’m worried about your other brother, who makes me want to jump off a cliff.”

“You’re dramatic,” he said, crossing his arms and you huffed. “We are all getting dinner tonight; just come with us. It’ll be a good chance to see us all off the ice.”

Later that night, you find yourself in the lobby with Luke, waiting on his brothers. Dressed down and out of your business wear, you felt more like yourself in a cute white sweater and jeans. Jack stepped out of the elevator and you immediately crossed your arms, already not in a good mood seeing him.

“Why is she here?” He asked Luke, completely ignoring you.

“She is writing a piece on the three of us, so I thought it would be nice to let her see the non-hockey side of things,” Luke explained and Jack groaned. Quinn stuck out his hand to introduce himself, and you smiled warmly at the oldest brother.

“So you’re the one who has little Jack by the balls?” He teased and Jack shoved him while you laughed.

You and Jack didn’t say a word to each other on the way to the restaurant and you luckily ended up being diagonal from him. It was a steakhouse but you weren’t that into steak so you opted for a grilled chicken salad with no tomatoes of course. Remembering that you were here for work, you kept quiet just observing the brothers.

"Remember when Jack tried to dye his hair blonde and it turned orange instead?" Quinn chuckled, earning a glare from Jack.

"Hey, at least I didn't cry when mom cut my mullet," Jack shot back, causing Luke to nearly spit out his drink.

You couldn't help but smile, seeing this different side of Jack. He was more relaxed, his guard down as he joked with his brothers. You caught yourself staring at him a few times, noticing how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

The waiter soon returned with your food and you sighed as you watched your salad be placed in front of you with the tomatoes you had asked to be left out. You were never one to send something back, so you accepted your fate and unrolled your silverware.

“Everything look good?” The waiter asked. You nodded absentmindedly as Jack opened his mouth.

“She asked for no tomatoes,” he said, pointing to your salad. Your head snapped up and the waiter began to apologize.

“Oh it’s okay,” you said, trying to wave him off but Jack gave you a stern look that made you sit back.

“Don’t like tomatoes?” He mused. “Kind of childish, don’t you think?”

“You literally ordered a lemonade,” you shot back and his eyes narrowed at you.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s every kid’s favorite drink,” you retorted.

Jack scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Sophisticated Palette. Let me guess, you’re a black coffee type, right? So edgy.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your soda. “At least I don’t need a sugar rush to get through lunch.”

“And yet, here you are, drowning in soda. Classy.”

You gestured to his plate with a smug smile. “Says the guy who’s been avoiding the broccoli on his plate like it owes him money.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, and he glanced down at the offending vegetable. “It’s not avoidance. I’m saving the best for last.”

“Sure you are. Must be why it’s still untouched and getting cold.”

“You know, you’re a lot braver with your words when I don’t have a hockey stick in my hands.”

You shot him a fake, sweet smile. “And you’re a lot more tolerable when you keep your mouth shut.”

Quinn and Luke were thoroughly entertained as they observed the back-and-forth banter between you.

“You see what I have to deal with?” Luke said, looking at Quinn once you and Jack had finally stopped.

“Jack finally met his match,” he commented, prompting an eye roll from the mentioned brother.

The rest of the dinner passed with a mix of tension and grudging amusement between you and Jack, while Quinn and Luke kept the conversation flowing. As you all left the restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at how quickly you and Jack fell back into your antagonistic pattern.

"So, got enough material for your fluff piece?" Jack asked sarcastically as you walked back to the hotel.

You sighed, "Probably. Though I'm not sure how to write about the Hughes brothers' dynamic without mentioning how insufferable one of them is."

Jack chuckled, surprising you. "Just make sure to mention how charming and handsome that one is too."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "In your dreams, Hughes."

As you reached the hotel, Luke and Quinn said their goodbyes, leaving you and Jack alone in the lobby. An awkward silence lingering in the air between you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked and you gave him a weird look, trying to figure out his angle.

“Where else would I be? I’m always front row waiting for you to mess up,” you joked and he gave you a playful frown.

“Very funny,” he said before bidding you goodbye and going up to his room. Things felt different between the two of you tonight, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

———————————————————————-

The Devils beat the Canucks handily and you found yourself with a couple of other reporters waiting for Jack, who had scored, and a new girl that you didn’t recognize.

“Hi Jack,” the girl called out as he got settled and he looked at her amused. She looked like a puck bunny who had snuck in; beach blonde hair, fake spray tan, low cut top, you knew the type. Jesus, what had gotten into you, you thought, trying to shake off your cattiness.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before,” he commented and she giggled. Literally giggled in response. The other reporters were amused but you kept your lips in a firm line.

“You were so great out there; it’s so impressive how hard you work,” she said and he smiled awkwardly thanking her. “Do you ever get scared when the puck comes at you?"

You couldn’t help but snort out loud when she asked that and Jack looked amused at you.

Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his smirk growing wider before he turned back to the blonde with a practiced ease.

"So," he said, leaning casually against the bench, "you’re new to the media scrum, huh? They usually send someone more…" He glanced at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Experienced."

The girl giggled again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, well, I’m just filling in today. I guess I got lucky getting to talk to you."

"Guess I got lucky too," he said smoothly, his tone playful. "Usually, I’m stuck with—" He cut himself off, letting his eyes flick to you with mock innocence. "Well, people who don’t seem to enjoy the job as much as you do."

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your face neutral, scribbling something completely irrelevant in your notebook to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"So," the blonde continued, practically glowing under his attention, "what’s it like to be so focused all the time? You’re just so… intense on the ice."

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "Takes a lot of practice. But I don’t think I’m half as intense as you just now."

Her eyes widened, and she laughed, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. "Oh my God, stop! I’m just trying to do my job."

"And you’re doing it very well," he replied, his voice low and charming.

You shut your notebook loudly, drawing Jack’s attention as you stormed out of the locker room, your cheeks flushed with anger and... something else you didn't want to acknowledge. You made it halfway down the hall before you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey!" Jack's voice called out. "Where are you going?"

You spun around, glaring at him. "Away from that circus. I have actual work to do."

He jogged up to you, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face. "What's your problem? Jealous?"

"Jealous?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Of what? Your ability to charm airheads?"

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, that's pretty harsh. What happened to journalistic integrity?"

"What happened to professionalism?" You shot back. "Or do you always flirt with reporters during interviews?"

His expression shifted, a knowing smirk appearing on his face.

“You are jealous,” he said confidently and you were about to argue back but he grabbed a door handle behind you, yanking the door open and pulling you in it. It was a smaller equipment closet, but you didn’t have much time to look around before Jack had you tight against his body.

“She isn’t you sweetheart,” he said as your body flushed against his.

Your breath caught in your throat as Jack's words sank in. The closet suddenly felt much smaller, the air thick with tension. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his chest rising and falling against yours.

"What are you doing, Hughes?" you managed to whisper, your voice betraying your conflicted emotions.

His eyes searched yours, intense and unreadable. "Something I've wanted to do for a long time," he murmured before closing the distance between you.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and insistent. For a moment, you were too shocked to respond. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands tangled in his hair as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

The kiss was everything you never knew you wanted - passionate, electrifying, and months of frustration bubbling over. His hands moved under your shirt and up your back as his touch burned your skin. Resting your head back against the wall, he took advantage, latching on to your neck, sucking harshly.

“More,” you gasped. “I need more.”

He pulled your shirt over your head and you unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes glazed over, looking at your chest and you smirked before tugging at his shirt. He lifted it off and you admired his toned body, tracing your finger down his abs. His breath hitched as he watched you and you smirked seeing the bulge against his sweats get bigger.

Jack's eyes darkened as he watched your finger trail down his abs. In one swift motion, he lifted you up, pressing you against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips found yours again in a searing kiss as his hips ground against you, eliciting a soft moan from your throat.

"God, you drive me crazy," he breathed against your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Your hands roamed his broad shoulders and back, relishing the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch. Jack's mouth moved lower, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone to your breasts. You arched into him as he took a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Jack," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair. He looked up at you, a mix of lust and something softer. “I need you in me.”

“Let me savor this sweetheart,” he pouted and you shook your head.

“Not the time or place,” you argued back and he sighed. Pulling down his pants, you spit into your hand before bringing it to his cock, pumping a few times, causing him to hiss. Shimmying out of your pants, you let him lift you against the wall, angling himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“Just this once,” you said and he rolled his eyes.

“We’ll see,” he replied and you started to argue back but he pushed in and your head fell forward onto his shoulder.

Jack began to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. You clung to his shoulders, biting back moans as he hit just the right spot with each stroke. The closet filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the slap of skin on skin.

"God, you feel amazing," Jack groaned, his pace increasing. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, urging him deeper.

"Harder," you demanded, nails digging into his back. He complied, slamming into you with renewed vigor.

The tension that had been building between you for months was finally finding release. Every thrust, every touch was electric. You couldn't get enough of him.

"I'm close," you panted, feeling the familiar tightening in your core. Jack slipped a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he urged and you cried out, his hand coming up to muffle the noise. Riding out your orgasm, you were clenching hard around him and he grunted as he kept up the pace, pounding into you.

As your walls continued to contract around him, Jack couldn't hold back any longer. He buried his face in your neck, groaning out your name as he spilled into you.

For a few moments, all that could be heard was your heavy breathing as you both came down from the intense high. Jack leaned his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. You both took a few minutes to catch your breath before Jack slowly pulled out of you. You winced slightly and Jack gave you a concerned look. He handed you your clothes and you quickly put them back on, refusing to look at him.

“Y/n,” he said softly and you finally looked over at him. His face was flushed, hair all over the place, but the look he was giving you made you want to take your clothes right back off.

“This was just two people blowing off steam, nothing more,” you said and he grinned widely.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I hook up with that other girl next time instead?” He asked and you frowned before quickly morphing into a neutral expression but Jack had already caught it.

“Ugh,” you exclaimed before opening the door slowly, peeking out before you walked out. Jack was right behind you and you thought the coast was clear until you walked right into Quinn and Luke. You froze and felt Jack still behind you as he saw his brothers.

“What were you two doing?” Luke asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

“We were just talking,” you defended, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh yeah? In the supply closet?” Quinn teased.

“It was quieter than the locker room,” Jack said.

“Didn’t sound that quiet,” Quinn shot back.

Your face burned with embarrassment as Quinn's words sank in. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Jack or his brothers, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

"I... I have to go," you mumbled, pushing past Luke and Quinn without meeting their eyes. You practically ran down the hallway, desperate to distance yourself and the Hughes brothers as much as possible.

Once safely in your hotel room, you collapsed onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. What had you done? Hooking up with Jack Hughes in a supply closet was bad enough, but getting caught by his brothers? Your career could be over if word got out.

Your phone buzzed with a text. Hesitantly, you checked it, half-expecting it to be Jack. Instead, it was from Luke:

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with us. But you might want to figure your shit out with Jack ;)”

You groaned, turning over, trying not to think about what happened in the closet or what it meant for you and Jack.

[ricciardo133]

Miami 2023

maxiel, Max in a bikini, light frotting

-

Max walks from the hotel hallway into the dark suite. He flips on the lights to see an inexplicable hot tub. There, just a few yards from the California king in the upscale room, is a marble jacuzzi.

It seems elegant but out of place, plopped in the otherwise normal room like someone was drunkenly designing in The Sims. The entire hotel is quite elegant, but Max wasn't expecting his solo suite to be this fancy.

He looks over his key card's paper pouch while dislodging his phone from his jean pockets. After confirming with his team that, no it was not a mistake and yes this was the only room the hotel had left, he hangs up and stares at the jacuzzi like he would a strange wild animal. He then calls Daniel.

"Mate, do you have a hot tub in your room?"

"What? Like the bathtub with jets?" Daniel asks back, his mirthful tone intrigued.

"No, like a fucking pool hot tub by the bed."

"Holy shit. You got a honeymoon suite? Complete with rose petals and champagne?"

"Sadly just coffee packets and little soaps." Daniel laughs that charming honk that always makes Max smile reflexively.

"I'm sure they can bring some in for ya. Aw, you're a lucky man, Verstappen. Sounds divine. Far cry from our little shared teammate suites back in the day, right?"

Max's smile falls. He bites his lip, thinking of the gentle touches, the hushed friction from back then. Furtive handjobs in darkened rooms, twisted sheets and nervous assurances it was only out of convenience. Daniel's lips around Max's length, then switching spots and swearing that whatever happened in that pocket of time didn't mean anything after. Always 'just for now' and nothing more. Just for now, never, despite Max's silent yearning, bleeding out from the hotel rooms' private universes to something more.

"Hotels are more boring without a roommate," Max says. They haven't done it in so long, but now that Daniel's back with the team? Max snuffs the thought. "Well, it's weird but fine. We won't be at the hotel much anyway."

"Hey, well, enjoy it while you can. A little pre-race soak sounds hella choice."

"I don't have a bathing suit."

"Max, it's in your room. You can use it naked."

Max flushes. "I guess."

"I can bring you a suit, if you reallly want? I'm actually out on the town right now."

"Uh, sure. And one for you. You can use it, too."

"I always pack one, Maxy. Don't have to get ready if you stay ready. What kind you want? Trunks? Speedo?"

Max laughs. "Surprise me," he says. He glances at the tub, picturing Daniel's lean frame in there with him, legs brushing like ice baths back then or past soft contact in hotel showers, knees on wet tub floors. He shivers. "Whatever you want. You know...just for now," he adds, as if the underlining, wordless current of want would somehow be beamed telepathically from iPhone to iPhone.

Daniel doesn't say anything for a moment. "Max, I..." He takes a sharp breath. "Do you remember Spa 2018? When that chick threw a bra on the fan stage?"

Max smiles but then freezes when he remembers getting back to their shared suite that night. That Daniel kept it, cheeks as red as the laced bralette as he handed it to Max to try on, both of them still slick with sweat after qualifying, thighs slipping against one another, Danie's damp hands on Max's cupped breasts.

"Yes, I remember."

"Just for now, right?" Daniel asks, in that soft tone he hardly uses with anyone else.

"Just for now."

"Okay, I'll bring two options."

He hangs up. Max stares at the cold marble and feels heat well in his belly. He lets a nervy breath go and unpacks just to do something to get his mind off the defrosting longing.

He still feels lost in snippets of horny memories as someone raps a little staccato melody on the door. Max darts over, opens it, and resists unspooling immediately.

"Damn," Daniel says as he eyes the hot tub. Max watches his friend stroll into the suite as he looks over the room. He's still in the team kit from some media event he must have been at downtown. Max feels undone seeing him in that shade of blue again. "A nice touch. Floridian elegance," Daniel says.

"I should start the water."

"I'll do it. Here," Daniel says, tossing a bunched up shopping bag into Max's arms. "Whichever you want, okay?"

Max looks into Daniel's big brown eyes and nods. His mind is a cat pawing Daniel's words like a ball of yarn as he slips into the bathroom to change.

The first thing he pulls out is a classic pair of swim trunks covered in little palm trees. He sets them aside, opens the bag further, and peers down at the other two red items at the bottom. He swallows. That throbbing, electric current ups in kilowatts in his heart, thinking that Daniel missed it, too. He wants it again, too. It's a simple mantra he repeats mentally on loop as he shuffles off his jeans and shirt. He puts on the bikini and assesses his reflection.

He wishes he had shaved. He looks from the smattering of facial hair around his full lips and soft cheeks down to his tense, strong neck and further down past his collarbones to his two pecs. His hand-full breasts are held in place by the scarlet triangles of silky fabric, edged with a slight lace design. He adjusts the thin bikini straps over his shoulders, feeling flustered at how defined and full his tits look. They lightly bounce as he lets the straps go, soft flesh jiggling and making his head spin. His hands slip down along his waist, pulling the bikini bottom out and then letting it similarly snap back into his plush love handles that slightly swell over the fabric.

Fuck, he thinks. He wraps himself in a hotel towel. His body is torn between being wildly self-conscious and uncontrollably horny. The latter wins out. Daniel picked this for him. He wants to see Max in this. Max feels whirled again in old, familiar, hot need. He leaves the bathroom.

Daniel has also changed into his own swim trunks, his torso bare as Max takes in the sight of old tattoos he hasn't seen in years. Daniel, thankfully, also seems a bit wound up. He looks up, one hand under the running water and the other clenched around the marble lip of the tub.

"Max," he says.

"Daniel."

"Whatever you want, y'know."

"And for you, too, of course."

"I want this." Daniel stands up, turning off the water. The room is suddenly thrown into a wild silence. "For now."

"For now," Max nods and lets the towel drop off his body.

The hotel air is cold but soon Daniel's warm hands are on him, tracing gentle lines up his arms.

"Holy shit," he breathes. He leans in. Max's hands mirror his lines, running up Daniel's arms, palms resting on ink. "Max, God. You look so good."

"Daniel."

Daniel squeezes Max's shoulders, fingers skating in to dip under the straps of the bikini like Max did just moments ago. "Tell me if it's too much."

"It's not enough."

"Jesus Christ, Max," Daniel says, hands moving back to press down into Max's shoulder blades. He swears and lets his hips roll forward. Max feels relieved at the press of Daniel's already hard cock against his.

"You missed this, too?" Max asks.

"Of course."

"I bet it was just as good, with the others?"

Daniel steps back, shaking his head. "There was only ever you." He looks down at Max. The room is so soundless, he can hear the soft rustle of skin on fabric as Daniel's fingers gently wrap around his tits. He squeezes, tenderly at first until Max's small whines make Daniel's grip harder. Daniel's hands press faster, squeezing Max's tits together as Max reflexively searches for friction, his hips bucking into Daniel's.

"I only ever wanted this with you," Daniel says in a small whisper. "God, I haven't...it's been so long."

"We used to do something like this," Max says. He holds Daniel's bare biceps, spins him gently, and pushes him onto the bed. Daniel's wide eyes meet Max's gaze as the younger man straddles his hips. "But usually we were not wearing anything."

Daniel smirks. "Yeah, not usually clothed for long." He pulls Max down gently by the straps of the bikini, his fingertips dancing along the lace and then under the fabric to squeeze Max's hardening nipples. Max groans. His eyes water as Daniel twists gently. He wants. He needs. He feels his thighs clench around Daniel's hips, his cock pressing against the bikini's bottom and wetting the fabric with a leak of precome.

He lets Daniel maneuver him, moving one of Max's thighs between his legs. Max rolls his hips down, his dick rubbing against Daniel's tattooed thigh. He groans. For a moment, there is a heated rhythm of Max bucking into Daniel's leg and Daniel's hands working into Max's breasts, a dizzying tempo. Max's head swims in the careening pace.

"Daniel," he whines as he pinches harder and twists until Max feels ready to burst. "Daniel."

The other man pauses, watching as Max struggles to keep composure. He sighs.

"I fucking missed this," he breathes.

"You can come by whenever now," Max says before he can think. He stops short of saying more, of saying it can be anywhere, anytime. That it can be more than just for now if Daniel wants that. "Even if there is not a hot tub in the next hotel."

"Oh, yeah, the hot tub," Daniel says. He looks over at the still, clear water. They hadn't even turned on the jets. "Probs too cold by now, you reckon?"

Max nods, his tone matching Daniel's mock sobriety. "Oh, definitely. Shame. We can just...stay here in bed instead?"

"Sounds good to me, Maxy," Daniel says. He gives Max's breasts a final squeeze before his fingers lace into Max's hair and pull him down into a heated, urgent kiss. Max melts in fully, losing all sense of space and time. Like years ago, it was just them. Just for now, that's all that matters.

[thebessthingathisparty]

With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.

Oscar Piastri ⋆.⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ˎˊ˗

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Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU! Instagram Edition

The tight-knit college hockey team, the Silver Blades, run by team captain Max Verstappen, isn't just about scoring goals—it's a chosen family. On and off the ice, the team has each other's backs, whether that's through college assignments, throwing awesome parties, or winning the championship together. Follow these overworked, tired, college students as they post through their day-to-day life.

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OscarJP

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liked by AlexandraSaintM, LandoNorris4, and others

OscarJP We took the kids outside

tagged ItsYourname

View Comments

AlexandraSaintM UGH! my queen, thank you oscar, i really needed this today

OscarJP I know what the people need

LandoNorris4 AHH OMG JACK FNQEFE AND BAILEY AWEE SJCJIFOEW (liked by OscarJP)

CollegeHockeyFan we love to see healthy siblings in a loving home (jack and bailey)

MaxVerstappen i need to know they love me

DanielRicciardo you are not their godfather i am therefore they love me not you

MaxVerstappen @OscarJp LITERALLY SINCE FUCKING WHEN??!?!?!!??

OscarJP He literally just made that up??? Our cats don't have godfathers

ItsYourname and even if they did they SURE as hell wouldn't be either of you monsters

DanielRicciardo homophobia (liked by MaxVerstappen)

ItsYourname i am cold (liked by OscarJP)

RandomHockeyFan they 😭 literally 😭 have 😭 a 😭 family 😭 screaming 😭 crying 😭 throwing 😭 up

view all comments!

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liked by CharLeclerc, LilyMuniHe, and others

OscarJP Hockey stuff lately

tagged ChargingSarge and Albono

View Comments

ChargingSarge If Alex shoots one more hockey puck at me I think I would literally crumble on the spot

Albono Oh come on, they weren't even hitting you (liked by OscarJP)

ChargingSarge UHHH I'M PRETTY SURE I WOULD KNOW IF THEY WEREN'T HITTING ME ALEX

RandomHockeyFan I have hopes for better playing this season, seems like they've got a strong team built, even some newbies.

Random Who new has been added? I thought it's been the same players since Lando and Oscar arrived with Logan and Yuki???

RandomFan Franco Colapinto!!!!! He's actually a freshmen, so it'll be interesting to see how this plays out

GeorgeRus Have Jersey in the laundry room by 9 if you want it washed. (liked by OscarJP)

YukiTsunoda22 sorry again osc, i let the blind rage take hold, soup in the kitchen

OscarJP All good Yuki, thanks mate

view all comments!

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liked by MaxVerstappen, Franco43Colapinto, and others

OscarJP 5 years, it never gets old :))

tagged ItsYourname

View Comments

LandoNorris4 WAAHHHHHH 😭🙏 M-MY MY BABBIEESSS 🥹🥹🥹🥹 !!!!!!!

OscarJP Lando we've been dating longer then we've known you

ItsYourname WAHHH LANDDOOO 😭 😭 😭 😭 I LOVE YOU

LewHamilton I love to see it in my feed. (liked by OscarJP)

DanielRicciardo mama y papa?

MaxVerstappen I hope you guys know you literally have the longest, most stable relationship I've ever seen in my life, genuinely.

ItsYourname is this trauma dumping?

ItsYourname AYYYYY PASTA WAS BOMB

OscarJP Is that all you want to say?

ItsYourname AYYYYY dick was also bomb? (liked by OscarJP)

ItsYourname i love you ♡

OscarJP I love you too!

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liked by ItsYourname, LewHamilton, and others

OscarJP Team wins a championship and all of a sudden I'm in a suit (I hope we get invited back next year)

tagged CharLeclerc, GeorgeRus, MaxVerstappen, LilyMuniHe, AlexandraSaintM, LandoNorris4

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ItsYourname OSCARRRR !!!!!!!! LOOK AT YOUUU !!!!!!!! (liked by OscarJP)

ItsYourname my favorite most polite cat in the world !!! 🥹🥹🥹

OscarJp What did I say about calling me a cat online

MaxVerstappen Great work this year Oscar, keep it up. (liked by OscarJP)

OscarJP Appreciate it man

CharLeclerc Proud dad moment 🥹

OscarJP I am not your son Charles (thanks dad)

Albono 4 points up next season, betting it now (liked by OscarJP)

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[sydnikov]

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

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[babydollmarauders]

CHRISTMAS MIRACLE — COLE CAUFIELD

cole caufield x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n gets stuck with her enemy, Cole, and finds out hate can lead to some miracle discoveries

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, long intro, handjob, p in v (protected), sub!cole (ish?). (4.7k words)

notes: welcome to day 10 of my 12 days of kinkmas! we’re in the final stretch of kinkmas and i hope you guys are enjoying it!

this isn’t how i want to be spending the first day of my break.

well, i guess the first hour of my break.

i was just getting ready to head home, dreading driving in the blizzard of a snow storm and taking my time to psych myself up, when an equipment manager called me over. he told me a player forgot his ipad and is asking if anyone would be willing to drop it off on their way home because he’d like to go over plays during the break.

hesitantly, i said sure, i’d bring it to them; but what i wasn’t aware of, and what i’m sure my coworker conveniently forgot to mention, is that the player in question is Cole fucking Caufield.

it’s not necessarily that i hate Cole; on the contrary, i had always thought he was extremely kind and talented.

in fact, when i had originally interned with the Laval Rocket, he was always incredibly nice to me. and in turn, i fell for him a little each day.

but then, he was called up to Montreal, and the following season, i was offered the position of media manager for the Canadiens.

i was excited, i spent the week leading up to my first day thinking about how wonderful it would be to be able to joke around with Cole again. i thought of sketch tiktoks for the team to do, most with Cole as the leading man because i knew he was a fan favorite, and questions to ask as they took the ice for practice.

and it was great at first. Cole was sweet and he was always willing to take part in team tiktoks, always greeting me with a smile. but around a month later, something changed.

no longer was he the kindhearted individual i was familiar with, instead he was cold shouldered and rude; snarky and arrogant. and that’s the way it’s stayed. for the past few years it’s felt like pulling teeth to try and communicate with him, and even worse to convince him to be in team tiktoks.

which brings me to now, standing at the front door of his house, an ipad tucked under my arm as i stand in the blistering cold. snow sticks on my lashes, flurries in my hair, but my toque does nothing to shield me from the cold Montréal air.

if i drove here on the icy roads, my windshield wipers at full speed, just for him to not even answer the fucking door, i’m gonna lose it.

i bang my fist upon the door again, body shivering from the cold, and it takes merely a moment for him to finally open the door.

he greets me with a wide smile, but when he sees that it’s me who stands before him, that cheery facade drops, a cold, blank expression taking its place.

i can hear the news blasting from his living room as the heated air wafts out of the home, blasting my face and making my nose go numb from the sudden cold to warm.

“what?” he asks, voice monotone.

“here,” i shove the ipad into his chest harshly, making him cough from the sudden impact, “next time, don’t leave your fucking ipad at the rink.”

he glares back, taking the ipad into his hands and parting his lips to argue.

“it was an accident,” he sneers, “trust me, if i knew you would bring it to me, i definitely would’ve double checked i had it.”

you.

my body fills with anger, insulted yet hurt by the way he says it. as though he’s repulsed by me.

“ya know what, asshole?” i don’t even get to finish my quip before i’m cut off a loud alarm coming from the tv.

it gathers both he and i’s attention, his head snapping back to look at the screen, while i peer around him to see it.

“with the blizzard picking up and roads becoming icier, officials have reported that all roads will now be closed for the night. stay inside and stay warm. we’ll get back to you when the storm passes.”

the news reporters words echo through my head, forcing me to end my comeback and just turn around.

i take a step towards the stairs that lead up to his door, but i’m stopped almost immediately.

“hey, where are you going?” Cole calls out from behind me.

“home!”

“they just said the roads are closed.”

“exactly,” i huff, “which means i need to get going quick so that if i get pulled over, i can say i was already driving.”

i’m about to take a step down the stairs when a hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me back.

“don’t be stupid, y/n,” he says, “you’re gonna crash, and i’m not living with your death on my fucking conscience.”

i turn to look at him, a heated glare in my eyes, “i’m not staying with you.”

a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he pushes me toward his open door, “yeah, you are.”

i stumble into the warm house, a stark contrast to the weather outside, and i just get my bearing when i hear the door shut, Cole flipping the lock and walking idly past me towards the living room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” i huff, shaking my head as i succumb to my fate, removing my coat and hanging it on a coat hook next to his door.

“my problem?” he looks over at me astonished, “i’m trying not to let you die.”

i roll my eyes, my arms crossing over my chest.

“i would not have died.” but he’s not paying any attention to my words, his eyes locked on something else entirely.

i follow his line of sight straight down to my breasts, inadvertently pushed up from my crossed arms, and my nipples pebbling through my thin dress.

“oh my god,” i hiss, moving my arms to cover my breasts, “fucking pig.”

his eyes snap up to mine before he rolls them.

“get over yourself, it’s nothing special.”

for some reason, i feel offended. not that him looking at them was great, but the way he shrugs it off and implies my tits are average?

“oh fuck off,” i fume, “people would pay to see these.”

he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows a few times, “you saying people pay to see you naked?”

“what? no!” i’m at a loss for words, not an easy achievement for most people, and yet a common occurrence when i’m around him.

“pretty sure that’s what you implied. and i’m sorry to let you down, but i’m not paying twenty bucks to see your rack.”

i gape, blinking at him in shock, “you couldn’t even pay me fifty to see these!”

i’m not even sure why i’m letting this conversation drag on; why i’m even entertaining it.

i sigh, stalking past him and bumping into his shoulder as i make my way to the living room.

“why would i pay when i could see them for free?” he chuckles at my lame tantrum, following behind me.

“what makes you think that?” i sneer, dropping down on the couch, Cole quick to follow.

“well that’s why you took the job, right?” he laughs, “it’s why you were constantly putting me in the spotlight of the team tiktoks and why you were always so buddy-buddy with me? you’re into me.”

i stare back at him in anger, but also frustration. frustration that anyone would think i would take a job just for a man.

“let’s set things fucking straight,” i snap, “i took the job because it was good pay and i grew up here, therefore, the Canadiens are my team and the plan was always to work for them. long before you showed up.

“i put you in the spotlight of the tiktoks because you’re the fan favorite. you have teeny-bopper girls fawning over your nice guy act and for some reason they fucking eat it up. and finally, i was ‘buddy-buddy’ with you because i thought you were a nice fucking guy and you made me believe we could be friends. never would i ever make a career decision for a fucking guy.”

i’m absolutely seething by the end of my rant, one knee bent on the couch and my body twisted to face him.

“sure.”

that one worded response sets me off. i don’t know what it is about Cole Caufield that gives him the ability to get under my skin like nobody else has, but i’m absolutely rageful.

“god, i can’t believe i ever fucking liked you!” i freeze. the words slipped out before i even had a second to process them, and now i watch as a cocky grin paints his face.

“so you admit, you like me.”

“liked. past tense,” i tell him, “i fell victim to your charming, nice guy facade. but never again.”

“you keep saying that!” he grunts, “i am a nice guy!”

“yeah? well, you certainly pick and choose who to be nice to, and for some reason, i’m not on that list.”

i can’t understand for the life of me why i’m suddenly feeling emotional, but i decide in the moment to blame it on pent up frustration. i always have been an angry crier.

“which is fine,” i sniffle, “but god, you didn’t have to be such a fucking dick. i liked you and i thought you liked me; but then all of a sudden you switched up. you started hating me, and i don’t even know what i did!”

Cole seems at a loss for words, shocked by sudden change of emotions. but, he also seems confused, his brows furrowed and a frown upon his lips.

“you don’t know?” he huffs, “i literally asked you out like five times, y/n! and you rejected me every single time!”

now it’s my turn to be confused, “what? no, you didn’t.”

“uh, yeah, i did! i asked if you wanted to go out for drinks after games like five times and every time you said no!”

realization dawns on me, clarity filling my head, and i can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“why are you laughing?!” Cole groans, head falling onto the back of the couch and hands covering his face.

“because,” i giggle, “this is ridiculous.”

“how?” his response is muffled by the palms of his hands, but i can hear the frustration in his voice.

“because you asked me out five times and all five times, i thought you were just asking if i wanted to join the team for drinks!”

his hands fly away from his face, head snapping up to look at me, “what?!”

i nod my head, overcome by a fit of giggles.

“you thought i was asking you…. to hang out as a group?”

“yes!” i cackle, “and i get uncomfortable in crowded bars, so i made excuses! jesus, Cole! we’ve hated each other for years because i misunderstood your idea of a date!”

Cole is silent for a moment, staring off in front of him at the news playing on the tv, before he slowly begins chuckling.

“oh my god,” he laughs, a hand slapping down on his thigh and making me laugh even harder, “so you hate me now, don’t you?”

“oh yeah,” i nod, “you were a dick!”

“hey!” he chuckles, “you weren’t very nice to me either! i mean just like fifteen minutes ago you shoved an ipad into my chest!”

“you deserved that.” i point to him, narrowing my eyes.

he shrugs, “alright, yeah, i deserved that.”

the room goes mostly quiet, Cole watching the news, while my sight is drawn to the window, watching the snow cascade down to the ground.

we sit there for at least half an hour, him flipping through channels and me watching the blizzard, before a lightbulb goes off in my head.

“hey, i have an idea.” i announce, catching Cole’s attention.

“hmm?”

“i’m sure we both still have some pent up anger and frustration, we can’t exactly just erase the past couple years of hating each other,” he hums for me to continue, “how about a snowball fight?”

he glances over at me with a singular raised brow, “a snowball fight? what, like we’re six?”

“exactly!” i nod, “we get to pelt each other with snowballs and let out any residual anger towards each other, and then we get to start anew. get a clean slate. whadd’ya say?”

his eyes flicker between me and the window for several moments before he nods, “i say let’s do it.”

with that, we scurry from the couch, bundling back into our coats and toque’s, he even lends me a pair of gloves, and then we’re running out into the thick blanket of snow that covers the ground.

we agree on fifteen minutes to build our shields, hurrying to build snow walls as high as we can, and once i deem the ten minutes over, i’m hiding behind my wall, crafting snowballs into a pile beside me.

grabbing one in my hand, i peer out from behind my shield, watch as Cole does the same, and on instinct my hand flexes forward, throwing the snowball as hard as i can.

obviously not from here, Cole’s shield crumbles upon my third snowball throw, making me cackle as the snow cascades down upon him.

he looks over at me with a glare and i duck down, listening to the pelt of snowballs against my shield, but then it goes quiet and all i can hear is the crunch of snow until suddenly it stops.

my brows thread together as i keep an ear out for any sound, but just as i’m about to peer over my wall, it comes crumbling down, and i look up to find the culprit grinning victoriously.

“hey! no fair!” i huff, throwing a snowball right at his chest. he gapes back at me in astonishment.

“you knocked mine down too!” he shouts, a snowball hitting me in the shoulder.

“yeah, but that was an accident! yours was just poorly made!” another snowball to his shoulder, “mine was made well, you knocked it down on purpose!”

he shrugs, taking off and crunching through the snow as he tries to get away. he stops to pick up more snow and i take my chance to throw, hitting him square in the back.

but he doesn’t even turn around, tossing a snowball over his shoulder. i attempt to dodge it but my efforts are in vain as the snow lands directly on the top of my head, making me scoff in frustration.

“rude!” i yell, taking aim and hitting him directly in the back of the head. snow sticks his hair and he whips around to look at me, but upon seeing me; my hat knocked off and snow covering the top of my head, he starts laughing.

“that’s it!” i call out, stomping over to where he’s fallen onto his butt mid-laughter, his eyes squeezed closed as he chuckles with glee.

towering over him, i hold a snowball in my hand, not throwing it, but instead smashing it upon the top of his head.

his laughter falters, his eyes flying open to scowl up at me as i begin to giggle.

“you’re right, that was pretty funny!” i laugh, but i don’t make it long before i step forward, my foot hitting an icy patch of grass, and i fall forward, a squeal leaving my lips as i land on top of him.

“shit.” i breathe out.

“guess you really did fall for me.” he quips and i roll my eyes, but despite the cheesy line and the freezing cold air, the spots in which his hands rest on my sides are burning.

“that was so corny..” i tell him.

“yeah?” he raises a brow, one hand leaving my side, and i almost mourn his touch, but then a handful of snow is being shoved down my coat and i’m squealing, wiggling on top of him as the snow begins to melt into icy water and trickle down my body.

“oh my god, Cole!” i moan in frustration, my face twisting in discomfort.

“don’t do that.” he stiffens, his hands holding me still on top of him.

confusion pinches my face, but then i feel it, his half hardened cock pressing against my thigh.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a spark running through my body, but i push myself off of him, standing up and brushing off my coat.

“ya know what sounds good?” i ask him, stepping back as he stands as well.

“what?” he grunts, a small glare pointed my way.

“hot cocoa,” i smile, “or… something else to warm us up.”

“i don’t know if i have cocoa, but i have coffee.”

i nod, “that works! it’ll warm us up and wake us up!”

Cole trudges into the house and i follow suit, but despite my attempt to change the subject, my mind is still stuck on him being turned on.

a gust of air blows through as i reach the door, a shiver traveling down my spine, and i quickly step inside, shutting the door behind me.

i shed my coat and gloves before kicking off my shoes, hanging my now damp hat on the coat hook over my coat.

trailing behind him into the kitchen, i watch as he opens cupboards, rifling through them. i hop up on the counter, legs pressed together, sitting silently until he huffs and turns around.

“i-” he trails off and i follow his eyesight back down to my breasts for the second time today, my nipples stiff and poking through my dress from the previous frigid air.

“Cole.” i snap my fingers, grabbing his attention as his eyes flick back up to my face.

“hmm?”

“god, if you wanna see ‘em, all you gotta do is ask,” i joke, flipping my hair over my shoulder as Cole steps forward.

“can i see them?” he asks, a wicked smirk plastered to his lips.

my lips part, my eyes wide as i blink back at him.

is he serious right now?

surely he’s joking, but i call his bluff, my thumbs slipping through the shoulder collars of my shirt and pulling them down.

i pull my arms out, the top of the dress now only covering my chest, but he continues staring at me. leveling him with a raised brow as i pull the top of my dress down.

i have every intention of just slowly teasing him, but the fabric glides too quickly, my breasts fully exposed to the chilly air now.

his eyes widen and he stumbles slightly in his hurried steps toward me. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, watching him admire my naked chest.

“you actually-” he cuts himself off with a chuckle, his hands hover in the air before them as he peers at me, “can i?”

i nod, and when his cold skin meets mine, a chill runs through me.

lightly pawing at my breasts, his thumb and pointer fingers pinch my nipples, making my back arch involuntary at the stinging touch.

“Cole.” i whimper through a quiet moan.

he steps even closer, nudging my legs open with his body, and my hands reach out, locking around the back of his neck.

“can i kiss you?” i breathe out.

“fuck yeah.”

i pull him forward, finding his lips with mine in a long overdue kiss, and what starts out slow and careful, quickly heats up into something intense and messy.

my tongue slips into his mouth, pushing and battling against his as he continues playing with my nipples, pinching and pulling, rubbing them between us.

a moan reverberates from my mouth and into his, causing him to smile into the kiss.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve been waiting for this.” he mutters, his lips brushing against mine.

“probably not as long as i have.” i tell him honestly, earning a light giggle from him.

his lips capture mine once more, but his hands divert their attention, trailing down my body and pushing my dress down as a result.

“yeah, i forgot, you have the hots for me.” he grins as i lift my hips, allowing him to pull my dress down my legs and fling it onto the counter.

i roll my eyes, wrapping my legs around his waist lightly, “shut up and take me to your room.”

“yes, ma’am.”

i’m almost frightened by the way my core dampens from his reply. i’ve never generally been a dominant person in the bedroom, but there’s something about him that makes me want to become one.

when we reach his bedroom, i unhook my legs, my front sliding down his body and rubbing against his hardened length as my feet lower to the floor.

my hands find the waistband of his sweatpants, still slightly damp from the snow, and i peer at him through my lashes. when he breathes out a lust-driven ‘yes’ in approval, i push them down, allowing him to kick them off and free his cock from the restraint. he pulls his shirt over his head in a rush, leaving him naked before me in all his glory.

tight muscles and chiseled abs make my mouth water, a sculpted v-line leading to his thick cock.

well, now i know why he has his nickname.

leaning in until my lips are nearly pressing against his ear, i whisper an unsure demand, “get on the bed.”

Cole swallows harshly, nodding as he pulls me toward his mattress. sitting on the edge, he looks up at me, awaiting approval, but i shake my head.

“in the middle.” i clarify.

he follows my orders, sitting prettily in the middle of the bed. an animalistic sensation comes over me, urging me to crawl forward on the mattress, and when i do, i hover over him.

one hand rests upon his abs, tracing the results of his stern training regime, while the other presses into the mattress, holding myself up.

i can feel him shiver underneath me as my nails graze across his torso before i find myself trailing down, wrapping my fingers around his erection and giving a small tug.

a hiss falls from his lips, his jaw clenching as his hips jerk up into my fist.

“aww, look at you.” i coo. i bring my hand up to my mouth, licking up my palm before spitting into it twice, rubbing my fingers into it to lubricate it well.

gripping his cock once again, i slowly begin flicking my wrist, pumping as i stare down at him.

shaky curses and tight grunts come from his mouth, his body writhing underneath me, and the sight is enough to make my core pulse, wetness dampening my panties.

i take the moment to trail wet kisses up his chest, starting from the top of his abdomen and leading all the way up to his collarbone.

“so good for me.” i hum, backing away to spit on his cock.

my thumb rubs over his tip, the mix of precum and saliva helping my hand pump his dick smoothly, and he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut as his face scrunches in pleasure.

“please, y/n,” he whimpers, his voice cracking, “i’m not gonna last. i wanna be inside you.”

“yeah? you think you deserve my pussy?”

i don’t even know who i am anymore, but i find myself liking the newfound confidence that fills my body.

“yes,” he nods harshly, “yes, please!”

my hand stills, releasing him and flattening against the comforter to wipe off the spit.

“condom?” i question, and he points to his bedside drawer, watching closely as i lean over and grab one.

i open the foil packet carefully, discarding it on the nightstand and pinching the tip before slowly rolling it onto him. my motions earn another huffed out breath of pleasure from his lips.

my thumbs hook into the waistband of my panties, pushing them down and off my legs before i throw them to the floor.

crawling back over top of him, i grasp his cock in my hands one more time, rubbing it through my slick folds. it’s glides smoothly through my wetness, and my head tips back as it rubs against my clit.

“fuck, Cole.”

lining him up with my entrance, i sink down slowly, the tip of his cock penetrating my core and stretching out my walls. the stinging pleasure worsens as i sink down lower, and i begin slowly bouncing with shallow movements until it becomes easier to slide onto his erection.

his hands grip my hips tightly, fingertips digging into my skin, but i can’t bring myself to care as i finally take all of him.

“shit.” he curses through gritted teeth, voice tight.

i slowly begin grinding my hips, my clit brushing against his pelvic bone with every movement, and i cry out as i begin bouncing on top of him, his hips meeting mine with shallow thrusts upwards.

my jaw slackens, breathy moans drifting out as i work my hips up and down, listening intently to the sound of his cock sliding through my wetness as my walls draw him in with each downward motion.

“god, you’re so big.” my words are shaky, my hands clutching at his chest in order to support myself.

soon, my legs begin to tire, shaking in both pleasure and exhaustion, and Cole catches on quickly, taking over the brunt of the work as he begins to pound into me from below.

the intensity of his thrusts sends me falling forward, my tits pressing against his chest, and he takes of the position, capturing my lips with his in a heated manner.

his lips press against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, and it’s a struggle for me not to cry out as the new angle causes the tip of his cock to graze my g-spot with every thrust.

my stomach begins tightening with slowly building pressure, my walls clenching around him with my impending orgasm.

my toes curl, and knowing i’m close, i break our kiss, snaking my hand between our bodies in order to rub my clit.

“fuck, i’m close.” he gruffs, his hips smacking against mine as his thrusts speed up.

i nod my head against him, “me too.”

my fingers circle my clit, pushing me further and further towards the edge, but before i can get there, Cole is one step ahead.

he lets out a harsh grunt, spilling out into the condom as he fucks me through his release, and the feeling of his dick pulsating inside me spurs on my own climax.

my breath hitches, toes curling as i cum around his cock, my fingers slowing down on my clit.

slumping entirely against him, my head lays against his shoulder, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath me.

“what the fuck just happened?” i pant, rolling off of him in favor of burying myself into his side.

his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me tighter to him as he chuckles.

“a goddamn christmas miracle.”

i giggle loudly, a snort escaping me and in turn making him laugh harder.

when we finally calm down, our breathing evening out and our bodies feeling somewhat more relaxed, Cole gets out of the bed, disposing of the condom in his en-suite bathroom trashcan before returning with a wet rag.

i open my legs, my hips jerking as he cleans me up, and i wait patiently as he pulls on a pair of boxers, throwing me a pair and a clean t-shirt.

i pull them on quickly, eager to cuddle more, and when he finally joins me back in the bed, my leg is quickly thrown over his hips, my arm resting on his chest as my head gets buried in his neck.

“you’re a cuddler.” he states the obvious, his hand running up and down my back as i hum in agreement.

“is that a problem?” i question, eyes fluttering shut, and i can feel him shake his head.

he pulls me in tighter, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “just an observation for the future.”

“the future?”

“oh yeah, you’re not getting rid of me now.” he tells me, but i can hear it plain as day; he’s nervous.

i heave out a deep sigh, my body melting into his before i answer, “wasn’t planning on it.”

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey player au! Simon "Ghost" Riley headcanons. Based on the NHL

Note: suggestive of ghoap and ghoap x reader (she/her used)

Goalie. Starter. Tall, large, and most importantly: weird. Goalies are always weird, idk they just are, it's what happens when you spend half the game hanging out alone I guess

The best part of goalie Ghost is his flexibility. Have you seen how flexible goalies are? These huge, muscular men can do the splits. It's very important to me that you consider flexible Ghost, thank you.

His mask is black and white, matches his tattoos. He's the unshakable goalie, not flashy, never frustrated. Just a brick fuckin wall. If he sees it, he's going to stop it. You cannot snipe on him and score. Also his rebound control is unreal, no second chances.

He never retaliates against opposing players fucking with him because no one fucks with him due to:

His death glare, it's enough to make any and every enforcer or net nuisance shake in his skates

The Incident in the minors where he sent a guy to the hospital with a jab from his blocker and almost got kicked out of the league and banned from the NHL

On the off chance that something untoward does happen on accident, someone else will do that for him. The bond between a goalie and his defensemen cannot be understated. Ok fine. Soap. He's the defenseman, there's the spoiler.

Very superstitious, has his routines and does not deviate. Doesn't ever take his mask off on the ice, except when it breaks. Doesn't even pull it up to squirt water on his face or drink.

The loyalty that his skaters have towards him and vice versa is off the charts. Even if the media and fans don't see it, it's there. Usually guys don't speak poorly of their goalies, but this is on another level. Ferda.

Speaking of, social media people can never catch him. Like seriously where does this guy even walk in the building?? Where does he go during intermission?? Surely he practices at some point right?? He won the Veznia trophy (voted best goalie) and straight up did not show up to the ceremony.

He will go to the children's hospital to do visits with the team and the kids are either terrified or love him. Picturing him giving out the little teddy bears 😭

Caught covid despite his vigilant PPE usage (hockey locker rooms are cesspools like ew), got really sick, and developed myocarditis; ie almost died multiple times, recovered insanely fast and then just showed back up to practice one day at 100% like "put me in coach". No one outside of the trainers and locker room even knew why he was gone to begin with. Wild stuff.

Hockey players tend to tack on an '-y' or sometimes '-er' to a name for funsies but no one gets to call him 'Ghosty'. (Maybe Soap can call him that in private, as a treat 🥺)

Hockey hair status: he shaves his head boooo (not that you'd even be able to tell really with his mask and use of hats and hoods). Won't even grow out facial hair during the playoffs. Maybe if he did then he'd have a cup. Smh.

Roster pic: the meanest mug you've ever seen on a guy

Mic'd up status: everyone thinks he's unmic-able, however he's secretly telling jokes to himself when the puck is in the other zone. But no one needs to know that.

WAG status: if he had one we would never know... Right? He's always in the background of photos that Soap's girlfriend takes and posts of her and Soap? Much speculation.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Note: WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guys significant others. Yes it is heteronormative.

A/N: I'll never actually write fics for this, but I have headcanons. I know a moderate amount about hockey and next to nothing about cod so apologies. Completely unserious. Just some silly little thoughts :) plus letterkenny reference!

Edit for typo

More hockey au: Soap | Gaz | Price

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!

Part 6- here’s the LINK to part 5. Thank you for all your support! Only a small chapter, but 100% more coming, just you wait… When Red Bull fail to establish their dominance in Singapore, it seems nobody can get off of Max’s back, despite the fact he’s happy for Carlos and the McLaren boys on the podium. All the doubting gets to his head and in the end there’s only one person he turns to for support. Leni secretly freaks when she realises her and Max keep getting closer… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24

“But is Max Verstappen really happy for Carlos Sainz, or is that just a cover up?”

“Max- Max how do you feel? Should it have been you up on the podium today?”

“Max how does it feel that the Red Bull dominance has been broken?!”

“We’re sensing some tension lingering around Max Verstappen today in Singapore after he takes 5th place. It was an astonishing race for Carlos, we can’t quite say the same about the man who has been dominating the 2023 season!”

Poor Max. It was no wonder the poor guy just wanted to get out of the media’s eye. He was so happy for his friends on the podium, he was still confident and self-assured, but the media kept portraying him to be some kind of villain that was spiteful for his own close friends. Even Checo, the media harassed to shit, but Max seemed to take the brunt of it.

No matter how happy he was, it wasn’t enough for the press who constantly accused him of being a brat, or pissed off about the race. I was positive there was nothing Max could do to please them, so when he headed back to his hotel in peace, I was disappointed, but not so surprised.

Me on the other hand, after four drinks in I’d twisted my ankle and ended up limping back to my room, the kind receptionist from downstairs offering me an icepack. It was pretty boring sitting alone in my room when everybody else was out, even my whole family was somewhere but I’d drunken too much too quickly and paid for it soon after.

That’s when I thought of Max. He too was in his room, probably asleep after such an exhausting day. In my tipsy mind I lifted my phone up, glancing through our previous texts. I’d not responded to his last message which was just a simple not explanation of why the RB’s didn’t work so well on specific types of circuits. I’d seen him in person and felt too awkward to text when we were in the same proximity.

Snapping a picture of the ice pack over my ankle I sent him a bunch of pissed off emojis, feeling playful.

Leni: don’t drink Prosecco it fucks you over It wasn’t so long later when Max actually responded. I was surprised it was so quick, but god- I wanted him so bad. I felt like having him, especially now, so soon after a break up would be a little sour for everybody around us, never mind that my own dad was his team principle.

Max: wtf Leni how did you manage that, are you ok?

Leni: hahahaha don’t even ask I’m good, are you?

Max: yeah just pissed off with all the media today. I don’t want to see a single person else. I cringed at his words. Yikes. That was my invite gone. Rereading my messaged to make sure they made sense, I sent a simple message of; Leni: I don’t blame you

Max took a while to respond after that. I was actually falling asleep, my eyes feeling heavy until the buzzing of my phone aroused me quicker than I could process.

Max: unless you wanna come chill with for a while “Oh, Max. I don’t know how you deal with them. They make it out like you’re gonna start a war with Carlos just because you didn’t get a podium, once.” I sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to hold the ice pack to my ankle.

“Exactly, and I don’t know why!” He paced from one end of the room to the other. “They like drama.” I pointed out.

“True, but…” Max plopped himself on the hotel bed. “I feel fine for Japan, I’m confident, but when you’ve got millions of people doubting you it gets kinda irritating.” I winced slightly at his words. Max usually didn’t be so open about his feelings with this side of the media, I knew truthfully he never really give two shits what they thought, but when people were constantly at him I was positive he must’ve found it jarring.

“You’ve also got millions supporting you again.” I responded as he smiled gently. “Yeah. I know that.” His voice was gentle, grateful, he sounded humble. It was a side to hum media didn’t like to show, especially in drive to survive.

“I know I will be.” I shrugged, glancing over to see him smiling down to his sweats. It was a miracle to see him something other than jeans. “Thanks, Leni.”

“Or maybe I’ll switch teams completely and start going to the Ferrari garage.” Max threw a pillow at me in response.

“Dick.” I snickered, scooting further up onto the bed to rest against the headboard, besides Max. There was still possibly the largest gap between us that I’d ever witnessed.

“Could you imagine what my dad would say?”

“I don’t think he’d be too happy.” Max smirked. “Neither would I.”

“Really?” I gazed over his expression. He was still smiling, indicating he couldn’t have been too serious. “Yeah, I mean, you’re part of our team. If you’re not there it would be weird.”

Hours passed and soon we’d both retired under the covers, watching the TV in a comfortable silence. The alcohol that once streamed through my body had fallen stagnant and I was feeling more nervous than when I initially arrived into Max’s room. I stole a glance at him, his eyelids were heavy as he watched the movie, something I hadn’t paid attention to in a good hour.

The gap between us had closed slightly, and I felt myself overthinking more and more about how soon it was to be in this position with him. Friends do this, right? As long as there was no physical contact, as bad as I wanted it, it would be fine.

So the minute I felt Max’s hand brush against the bare skin of my elbow I felt myself completely freak, fidgeting my legs and accidentally kicking my bad ankle. “Ow, fuck. I kicked myself.” I pushed myself up, pretending to be completely and utterly blind to how close we were laid previously.

“Are you ok?” Max too, pushed himself up. I pushed the covers off me and glanced at my slightly swollen ankle. “I’m fine, just… hurt.” I winced, lowering it off the side of the bed.

“Oh- you can stay… if you want.” Max muttered, sounding a little nervous. My stomach grew butterflies, my heart felt like it exploded and as badly as I wanted to say yes and jump on him- something was stopping me.

“It’s okay. I better go to bed, thank you though.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“30 seconds down the hall?” I giggled as he shrugged like it was obvious. I realised how rude that sounded, to turn down his offer. “It’s okay, thank you though, Max. I would stay but Blue is there- and if I don’t come back, you know, it looks a little…”

“I get it. Then they all start asking questions.” Max agreed as I offered him another smile. “Yeah. Exactly.” I turned my head a way, hesitating to actually turn around and leave. Max stood besides me at the door and to avoid any other form of intimate interaction I avoided eye contact at all cost.

By the time I’d got back to my bedroom I’d well and truly wanted to top myself. Well done Leni, well fucking done. That could have been one of the most finest moments of my life, not!

[fiapartridge]

catching fire au | the underdog

jack hughes x hockey!player

summary: training camp

warning(s): cursing, jack's an asshole!!

a/n: send in some asks for the au <3 i kinda hate this, but hey im done w/ college apps and am ready to write woo

taglist (send in an ask or dm me if u wanna be on the taglist for this au!): @hockeyboysarehot

THERE’S A REASON no one takes a chance on the underdog. “She’s not fast enough, she’s not strong enough, she’ll get hurt.” But they don’t know Riley Dell. No one knew Riley Dell; of her capabilities, her strengths, her weaknesses. 

But this year, she was going to make a name of herself—no matter what, or who, stood in her way. 

SECT. I: TRAINING CAMP.

Media day was a living hell. The interviews consisted of the same tasteless questions: “How do you feel being the first female player in the NHL?” and “How are you going to measure up to the physicality of the other players in the league?” While everyone else was getting questions about their actual gameplay; how they’ll navigate their weaknesses and hone in on their strengths, Riley was getting compared to every single player imaginable.

And the pictures and videos weren’t any better. The photographers suggested that she layed off on the gloves and stick and instead held makeup—fucking makeup. Why the the fuck would she be holding a mascara wand on the ice? The entire day felt pointless. Not a single person took her seriously, and if she called them out, they would accuse her of complaining. She already got the “privilege” of being drafted, and now she wants to complain? Doesn’t look too great. 

The day after, everyone hit the ice for actual training. Finally, a time where she could prove that she deserved to be there; that she earned her spot; that Riley Dell was a force to be reckoned with.

The training camp roster was split into three groups: A, B, and C. Throughout the weekend, the groups were to scrimmage, playing each team once. Group A was the one to keep your eye on. The goaltenders consisted of Tyler Brennan and Vitek Vanecek; defenseman being Brendan Smith, Colin Miller, Luke Hughes, Cal Foote, Michael Vukojevic, Kevin Bahl, and Joe Gambardella; and forwards being Tyce Thompson, Michael McLeod, Curtis Lazar, Max Willman, Jesper Bratt, Tyler Toffoli, Flip Engras, Tomas Nosek, Jack Hughes, and Riley Dell.

“Lindy fucking hates us,” Jack groaned upon seeing Riley tying her laces on the bench as groups A and B skated around the practice facility, getting ready to battle in their first scrimmage of the training camp. “That’s why he gave us Riley, right? To get back at us for not winning in the playoffs.”

Luke skated around his older brother, watching as Jack eyes Riley. “I don’t know why you hate her so much. She hasn’t even stepped foot on the ice yet, Jacky.”

“It’s more than the ice, Luke,” Jack turned to the younger boy, annoyance laced in his voice. “Once she joins the team, the entire dynamic will be off. What will happen to the locker room, Luke, or what will happen when we celebrate our wins? Is she gonna come to the bars with us? It’s stupid, Luke.”

“It’s one girl, Jack. The locker room will be fine, and what’s wrong with her coming to the bars? If anything’s stupid, it’s you, man,” Luke scoffed. “Now come on, being an asshole isn’t gonna win us this game,” Luke said, skating towards the rest of the team.

Once Riley’s laces were tired, she jetted off towards the ice, landing in front of their star player. “Hi, I’m Riley. You must be Jack,” she smiled softly, hand out for him to shake, but when he never stuck out his, she retracted it quickly. “So, I heard you had a career-high last season. Sounds like a dream.”

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, skating beside her. 

“Um,” Riley bit her cheek, thinking up things to say. Jack wasn’t much of a conversationalist, she thought. “Are you more of a toe-to-heel guy or heel-to-toe?”

Tired of hearing her voice, Jack spun around, stopping Riley in her tracks. “I don’t care that you got drafted to this team. Fitzgerald, and Lindy, and everyone else in this organization are going to realize they made a mistake and send you back to wherever you came from.” Venom pricked his tongue as the words smacked Riley one by one. Even the team didn’t like her. Driving his shoulder into hers, Jack watched her face turn from shock to complete anger. “Hope you didn’t unpack your bags, rookie.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Riley stood there, unmoveable. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, prove everything he assumed about her. She wasn’t going to let him win. Closing her eyes, she breathed in, out, and thought about every way she could make Jack Hughes’ life a living hell. Dramatic, but who knew there were real devils on this team?

“Nice job out there, Dell,” Nico smiled at Riley, nudging her shoulder as they bounded into the locker room. “Don’t worry about Hughesy, he’s a softie once you get to know him.”

“If he ever gives me the chance to know him,” Riley sighed. 

The game was a total train-wreck. I mean, their team won, but Riley was practically fighting for her life out there. Every single time she made it on the ice, Jack smashed her into the boards, or stole the puck from her, or never gave her the puck at all. His hate was evident and the entire team, not just team A but the entire Devils organization, could see it. How were they supposed to play an entire season together, when they could barely play one scrimmage?

“Don’t let that asshole win, Ri,” Luke stumbled into the conversation, placing his gear down by hers. Luke’s been playing with Riley for the past two years at the University of Michigan, and while they lost against Quinnipiac at the Frozen Four semifinals and Luke immediately left for the Devils after, their bond never deterred. Coming to the Devils felt like coming home (if home consisted of an egotistical jerk and a sexist media team).

Shaking her head, Riley held her practice jersey in her hands. “Promise me, that’ll be the last thing I do.”

[sweetdispatch]

Hi!!! Matt Rempe x sarcastic and savage reader maybe?

10 🎭

12 🫦

I’m a huge fan of a classic enemies to lovers. Maybe the reader is the media manager and posts social media stuff for the team? Super sarcastic and savage and Matt is annoyed at them bc they always have a witty comeback or something? I’m just spitballing here

i don't know if that is something you had in mind but i tried😭

prompt list

You started working for Hartford’ team as a social media admin. All the guys became friendly to you and stated that you were their favorite. Everyone knew your sense of humour. Everyone except Matt. When you started work there, he was training and playing with Rangers. After a couple games, he was loaned back to Hartford but you felt like he’s the new one and you’re running this building.

Matt couldn’t understand why the boys were so nice with you. He found you rude and sarcastic. Way too sarcastic for his liking. For him, making content for the media with you was like a punishment. It was another day to ask random question to players. Today’s one was: Are you biting or sucking an ice cream? All of the guys laughed after reading this question. The last to record was Matt.

“What a dumb question it is”. He said.

“Just answer and we move on”. 

“Well, I’m always biting them”. He answered. “You?” You looked at him from the phone.

“I’m always sucking them. It’s the best way. The feeling around the lips is great while doing it”.

“Who knew that you’re hiding such a dirty mind”. It took you a couple of seconds to understand his words. When you finally realised, your cheeks turned red.

“Stop it. You know what I meant. Shouldn’t you be on the ice?” You tried to change the topic. Matt just laughed and left you. 

The next day, all the guys laughed when they saw you. You couldn’t understand why but you didn’t really care until one of them joked about sucking. In that moment you realised that Matt had told them your answer. You were fuming at him and decided to confront him. You saw him walking into the building and asked him to go with you. He followed you and stepped into the media room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind?” You screamed at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”. 

“I’m talking about you being a complete idiot. You really had to tell them about our conversation? I get it that you don’t like me but get a fucking grip. You’re acting like a spoiled kid that came from Rangers and thinks that’s better than anyone”.

“Calm down, they’ll forget about it tomorrow”.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. I worked so hard for them to like me and you ruined it”. You said and left him. 

Seeing your reaction, Matt realised the messed up. He just wanted to pay off you for all the sarcastic comments you were throwing at him. Although your comments weren’t that bad as what he did to you. He knew that he needed to fix it. Following morning he showed up with flowers and went to apologise to you. You were taken aback by his action but accept it. This fight changed your dynamic.

Matt saw you in a different light. He wasn’t seeing you as the annoying media girl but as a good friend. You two have been talking more and more each day and quickly fell for each other. It was a bumpy road but two of you started dating after three months since the argument. 

[veryace-ficrecs]

Zosan Modern Au Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

One Heart [For The Two Of Us] by curlystrawhat - Rated T

“Who are you?” Zoro asked, because he really has never seen this guy in his life and he’s pretty sure neither Koushirou nor Mihawk know him, so why the fuck was this guy leaving flowers on Kuina’s grave? The blonde bit his lip and took his time to answer. Zoro was getting impatient, he opened his mouth to say something, but the blonde beat him to it. “I’m Sanji.” he said, staring right into his eyes, “Kuina gave me her heart.” or Two boys, one heart connecting them, a meeting by chance, a friendship by choice. Falling in love along the way? Well, that just happened all on its own.

To Have and To Hold by eflo - Rated T

Sanji just woke up from surgery to see some guy in his room.

A Trip Down Memory Lane by Kaiisan (orphan_account) - Rated G

Sanji recognises a familiar face on the train. ((AU based off of the cute couple sitting in front of me on the train a few days ago))

Minutiae by LibbyLune - Rated T

Normally Zoro would hate to find a stranger picnicking at his favorite secret photography spot, but there's something special about this blond chef.

In Lieu of Payment by Harubo - Rated T

Sanji spends an afternoon trying not to ogle the mechanic fixing his furnace. He does not succeed.

Just Need this Love Spiral by three_days_late - Rated T

When beloved Hollywood star Sanji came back from Bora Bora after three weeks of being off the grid, no media, no paparazzi, no contact to anyone, the tabloids went insane. The fact that he came back with a husband was the icing on the cake. The fact that no one had ever even heard of this husband before was the cherry on top. The one question on everyone's mind: Why?

Two Left Feet by Harubo - Rated T

Zoro is forced into taking dance lessons for his sister's wedding. It turns out better than he expected.

Love You Better by 8ball - Rated M

“What about you?” The cook had asked. “Any BDSM or anything?” Zoro had stared blankly at Sanji, trying to remember if BDSM was the name of a band. It sounded like a fighting style, maybe related to MMA. “I thought you practiced savate and kickboxing?” Needless to say, he’s blown his cover pretty quickly. And thus, the list.

Point and Click by modeoheim - Rated M

Sanji Black, Executive Chef and owner of Le Tout Bleu, successfully defends his restaurant and its customers from aggressive paparazzi one evening with style. A video of the fight goes viral, though, and one of the celebrities in the center of the whole mess develops quite the intense—and public—crush.

Grounded by Hazel_Athena - Rated T

Sanji stares up at the screen that lists all inbound and outbound flights, his heart catching in his throat when he spots the little flag that says ‘canceled’ next to his own.

Double Play by auspizien - Rated T

After a horrible car accident a year prior, Sanji finds himself wheelchair bound and a little lost. When his sister forces him to go to a baseball game, he really isn't expecting much from it; until a certain green-haired baseball player makes it his mission disrupt all of Sanji's carefully thought out plans.

Zoro's Boyfriend, Who Lives In Canada by donutsandcoffee - Rated G

Everyone knows Zoro has the perfect boyfriend—tall, blonde, and handsome. He cooks Zoro’s bento every day, fights as well as Zoro does, and has the clearest, bluest eyes mankind has ever seen.

Wildcat by Harubo - Rated T

Captain of the soccer team Sanji Black gets recruited to be a replacement kicker on Thousand Sunny High School’s American football team. The problem? An unfortunate crush on star running back, Zoro Roronoa. Oh, and Sanji has no idea how this sport works.

Steady, As She Goes by auspizien - Rated E

Zoro Roronoa is a retired black-ops agent suffering from PTSD; after moving to a small town and getting married in hopes of leaving that life behind him, a chance meeting with a smarmy, blond paramedic changes all of that. Thus ensues a summer of tempestuous desires, heart-wrenching decisions, and unforeseen espionage. [Modern AU. ZoSan. Slow Burn.]

blue by adietxt - Rated T

Zoro doesn’t see it, until he does. One moment everything seems normal — Sanji meeting him at the back of the gym building, passing Zoro his bento before the Kendo club starts like usual — and then Zoro sees it, the way Sanji stands with a weird slouch on his shoulder, his body leaning to the side, like he’s favoring his left. Zoro always thought the slouching was just an act, a way for the stupid Love Cook to look ‘cool’ and impress the girls in their school, but a different thought crosses his mind for a second. A different, terrible thought.

keep playing that song (hey mister dj) by adietxt - Rated G

Usopp isn’t scared. The stranger might be a tall, burly dude with one eye, two large scars, and muscles that could rival a god’s, but Usopp is not scared. Nope. Sure, the guy could probably crush Usopp’s head if he does so much as flex, and the scars seem to indicate that he’s trained in some kind of deadly martial arts, and even without all those things he’s still big enough to be able to beat Usopp up into a pulp through sheer strength, and — Okay, so Usopp might be a little scared.

[dogwittaablog]

this ask turned into some insane ramble feeling journal entry dump thing that got away from me im so sorry

i got into hockey last year during the playoffs and had basically no interest in nolpat or the flyers like watching the burner exposé unfold meant basically nothing to me. i didnt even know all the nhl teams much less care about this brain damaged draft bust from a team not even in the playoffs but im currently living that NEET life and ive had time to be bored as fuck and fall down that rabbit hole and get invested. im so annoyed np is attractive (only when hes mostly cleanshaven and with certain hair lengths. his facial hair is nasty i think hes going through twink death) i watched the bo show and was smiling fuck my shit life.

the 1 on 1 nolpat flyers vid (https://youtu.be/UyjbFn2QRXk?si=UgsT637ka3_qFZbO&t=304) the interviewer at the end (like 5:04) asks what he wants people to associate with his name "probably just be a good person. a good teammate. thats kinda the main thing for me honestly......being a good teammate, good person off the ice is one of the most important things" with the knowledge of the burner is soo ironic like that media training is being put to work. i am finding some joy that majority of hockey fans only really remember him is for being an injury riddled bust or one half of a ship of him having gay sex with a teammate. and the burners. plus his biggest fans being people who shipped nptk and kinda headcanoned him as like genderfucky? because of his pretty face and the long hair. i bet he was fucking seething. he's so irrelevant now. i so badly want a front row seat of his life being shit. i want to see him to go through all levels of hell while alive. i hope he fucking hated living in philly. i want him to feel like sisyphus pushing that fucking pointless rock up that hill everyday (AND NOT ENJOYING IT OR FIND HAPPINESS IN THE ACTION). i lowkey need him to go bankrupt and start a gay4pay OF. can everyone please manifest with me. i need him to go through what he was saying about women on the burners. get in a skimpy dress and on the workbench now!!!! god hes a loser do u kno abt those batman 2022 riddler fanart/fics that has like horny incel vibes??

this is a lot and i'm sorry for coming to his grave and defacing it by hate jerking off while everyone is shit talking him.

I live for rambles ngl especially when they're articulate and self expressive mixed in with some good humour and relatableness.

He's stated more than once that he values how people perceives him especially around the locker room and team, but tbh if you read inbetween the lines I think he really was telling us that he mainly just values his friends, families, hockey bro's and his coaches/staff perception of him and not necessarily anyone outside of that. Not saying that's super bad but you can tell that mf is selective af with being genuinely nice to people in general.

STOP the way old videos of him really got us kicking and swinging our feet in the air. The BO show was such a classic gem ugh his laugh is literally engraved into my brain from that vid. Draft him was 10/10 nobody could deny it, he is too in love with the greasy musty look I don't know when we'd ever see him look like that again.

I am unaware of the batman 2022 riddler fanart/fanfics, but I'll jump into the rabbit hole.

[literaryslapshot]

happy new year from sYdney, aus! (Lmao i’m a loser who will never get over that)

i was scrolling thru ur sidney crosby stuff (bc this man has me GRIPPED I’m so embarrassed and obsessed) and I saw some of the teacher!reader stuff and I know most ppl default to like…teacher of young kids but please consider - high school teacher!reader

like yes reader is younger (I’m still thinking of ur age gap!sidney oh lord) but she’s been teaching high schoolers for nearly a decade now. so what if ur 36 and 180cm and a professional goon athlete on the ice. so what if ur shorter than literally all of sid’s teammates. hs teacher!reader has a presence and you WILL listen to her when she tells a room full of adrenaline fuelled hockey players to stop throwing their nasty underarmour clothing at each other for 5 seconds so you can all finish your damn gatorade and HYDRATE, evgeni, you think kidney stones are a joke, do you? or just giving someone the Teacher Look when they’re being a bit too sassy or just casually slotting in to help Dana in the equipment room.

dealing with the media? easy as pie - they’ve got nothing on private school parents who don’t understand why little johnny isn’t in the top class, he just needs to be challenged and extended, don’t you understand that’s why he doesn’t do anything in class, because he’s bored, he’s actually VERY capable! (sidney was shell shocked with a fear boner the first time he hears the tail end of your phone convo to a parent - “unfortunately mr x, i have yet to see any evidence of this, so our decision stands. Have a good day now :)”

the whole hockey schedule? oh lord, reader is a professional at timetable management, don’t you even worry. She’s an excellent coordinator (yes, a shared and colour coded google calendar for her and sidney’s relationship) she understands how both their schedules can be insane, but most importantly understands the importance of work-life balance and setting boundaries for yourself! she helps pull sidney out of his head, reminding him that it’s just as important to take care of himself if he wants to keep taking care of others. she reminds him that it’s okay to be a little bit selfish, and really, that it’s not actually selfish at all to admit to another person how tired and frustrated you are, or to talk about things from years past that you thought you’d gotten over, but no, really, you just buried it for the sake of your team and career.

the whole public persona/reputation vs privacy thing? she totally gets it and understands sidney’s need first privacy. hell, that’s why she so fucking tech savvy - she knows ALL the tips and tricks to keep her socials locked away from prying student and parent eyes. It sparks this sense of safety and security in sidney? like he knows for sure that his privacy is protected, and that he trusts reader so much not to accidentally or not take advantage of his fame and fortune?

uhhhh anyway sidney being in shock-scared-and-horny-awe at your absolute confidence, breadth of knowledge, and commanding yet calm presence despite your age and (comparatively) tiny size. sidney discovers he has a competency kink when you accidentally use your teacher voice on him bc he keeps trying to distract you with kisses and cuddles while ur trying to finish off some marking. like, you stare at him over the top of your glasses and go “sidney crosby, you’ve got two choices right now - you can sit down on the couch in silence and wait literally 10 minutes, or, if you want to continue as you are, one of us is going to sleep in the guest room tonight, so let’s make good choices now, eh?”

he sheepishly goes to the couch and waits for you to sit in his lap after u’re done so you can pepper his shy lil face with kisses, calling him a “ridiculous boy” with such fondness in ur voice it makes him giggle

omg stop i LOVE THIS!!!!!!!

[kyojirokagenuma]

The Lost Twin Chapter Three

“At least it can’t be worse than last year.”

-Sam Giddings, 9:07 p.m.

  -March 2nd, 2014

Emily Davis was just waking up. She had slept in late that day. It was nearly noon. She yawned, shielding her eyes from the sun shining in on her face through the window. She threw off her blankets, heading for the shower. She passed her phone on the nightstand, which had been set to vibrate all night. After turning the water on, she stripped out of her night clothes and stepped into the tub. Just a short shower to start the day. Her hair didn’t need washing. She let out a long sigh as she felt the hot water rain down like tiny bullets against her skin. After a quick wash, she turned the water off, stepped out, and grabbed a towel. No one was home to see her naked, so she dint even bother wrapping body after drying it off. She still had a towel over her head, rubbing her brown hair, when she stepped back into her room and picked her phone up from the nightstand.

“Ten missed calls? What the hell? Who’s calling me at 3am?” she asked herself, scrolling down the list.

Josh three times. Sam twice. Josh again. Mike twice. Jess twice.

Weird. Did something happen, she thought? She would have to call one of them back and see what was going on. She finished drying her hair and tossed it on the chair in front of her desk as she scrolled through some of the morning news. She was hardly paying attention to them as she passed them by.

“Fuckin’ great, more cold?” she thought with a frown, placing a hand on her bare hip as she passed by the weather. “Politics, boring,” she sighed, combing past a story about the president. Next was something about sports. “I think that’s the team Mike likes. I wonder if he’d like a jersey or something for his bir-.”

BREAKING UPDATE: Miracle on Blackwood Mountain!  Daughter of Hollywood Mogul Found Alive!

Emily froze. Her mind just stopped working for a few seconds. Then her hand began trembling uncontrollably.

“No fucking way,” Emily said out loud, quickly clicking on the article.

She held her phone with both hands, her whole body shaking while she waited for it to load. Of course her internet had to suddenly crash now.

“Fuckin’ come on! Hannah or Beth?”

Suddenly she was shivering, like she had just gotten out of an ice bath instead of a hot shower. Finally, the page loaded. She read the first few lines of the article.

In what can only be described as a miraculous turnabout, the once grim case of the missing Washington twins has had a stunning breakthrough after nearly an entire month, when younger sister Elizabeth was found alive late last night by Blackwood forest rangers.

Underneath the paragraph was a picture of a ragged and injured Beth, a selfie that must have been taken with one of the ranger’s phones. She was smiling.

She was okay.

“Holy fucking shit!” Emily all but screamed. She clicked off the article and flew right over to her contacts.

There was no way Beth still had her working phone after missing a month. Josh was probably busy as hell dealing with all of it.

She called Sam. She picked up on the first ring.

“Emily, finally!” came her excited voice from the inherent end.

“Sam, I just saw the news!” Emily asked while hurrying to her wardrobe. She held the phone between her chin and shoulder as she started to get dressed. “Have you talked to her yet?”

“No, not yet. It’s a media frenzy over here. Only family can get into see her right now. She’s in the hospital. But she’s alive! She’s really alive!”

Emily pulled a pair of jeans on over her underwear. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this shit!”

“I know, it doesn’t seem possible.”

“Where are you? Right now?”

“I’m at the hospital. It’s St. Mary’s.”

“I’m on the way.”

“Alright, see you.”

Emily hung up and shoved her phone in her back pocket, then picked a clean bra out from her wardrobe. Once she was finished dressing, she hurried down the stairs and out the door. It took her until she jumped into her car to come to a sudden realization. She stopped, and turned off the car. She just sat there, sitting in her seat for minutes on end. A deep, troubled frown had replaced her once exhilarated expression. She took out her phone again and dialed Sam back.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, it’s me again. I . . . I just had a thought.”

“Yeah?”

“What if Beth doesn’t wanna see me? Or the others? I mean, the whole thing was my idea.”

“Emily, we talked about this. You couldn’t have known what would happen. Yeah, it was mean, but-.”

“Yeah, I know. You told me,” Emily said with a sigh. ”But, but I can’t shake it! I thought it would be funny. I told myself she deserved it for wanting to get with Mike, but don’t know if Beth will see it that way. What if she’s mad at me?”

“Well, she might be at first, but I also think she’ll probably forgive you if she really thinks you’re sorry. She’s not vindictive like that, and I know you’re really sorry.”

“Yeah, I am,” Emily said, her eyes falling. “You’ll tell her I am, right?”

“Of course. It’s your boyfriend that I’d be worried about.”

Emily’s frown deepened. She said nothing.

“He hasn’t changed his tube, huh?” Sam asked, noticing her silence.

“No, he still hasn’t even said sorry to Josh. He says we shouldn’t apologize just cause Hannah overreacted and went nuts. Says it’s her fault.”

“Asshole. No offense, Emily.”

“Whatever,” Emily deflected, not even having the energy to get angry.

“Emily, just come over, okay? We can figure this out when you get here.”

Emily pricked her lip, but nodded. “Yeah, okay,” she said, restarting the car.

“You’ve really surprised me on this Emily. You’re actually pretty sweet when you want to be,” she said in an almost teasing manner.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, cut out. I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up her phone and pulled out onto the road. The hospital was a good half-hour away, right in the heart of LA. Beth must have been doing alright if they transferred her there already. Emily wanted to get there as soon as possible, so she got on the expressway. She was approaching her exit when she got another call. Caller I.D. said Mike. She hit answer and brought it up to her ear.

“Hey babe, you heard about Beth, right? I’m headed there now.”

“Yeah, I heard. That’s, uh, that’s not why I called though. We gotta talk, Em.”

Her car rolled down the exit ramp towards an empty intersection. No one was at the light.

“Well, can it wait? I’m kind of driving to-.”

“Emily, I wanna break up.”

Emily's eyes shot wide. Her mouth fell halfway open just of shock. “What? What did you just say to me?”

“Sorry, Emily, but things just aren’t working out. I asked Jess out today, and she said yes. It’s over between us.”

Emily’s world was suddenly crumbling. Jess was her best friend. Why would she do this?

Emily didn’t even notice the light in front of her turn red, or that she was speeding up. This was about to get loud.

“What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? You prick!”

“See, that’s part of the reason we’re breaking up, Emily. You’re also so nasty, even to me.”

Emily was clutching the steering wheel so tight it was hurting her hand. She was flying in that little car now, the speedometer was going wild. Every ounce of blood in her body was burning red hot. “So you ask out my best friend? You fucking, you motherfucker! That’s why she’s been ignoring me! Fuck her! And fuck you! Sam was right about you, you piece of-.”

It took a blaring horn to finally break her focused rage. Her head twisted around to see an eighteen-wheeler on her left, barreling right at her through the intersection. Her heart stopped, her eyes wide.

She pulled the wheel as far right as it could go.

The truck slammed on the breaks.

The semi struck the front of her car. The whole engine block was ripped right out, her BMW torn in half. Emily screamed. Louder than she ever had before. What remained of her vehicle was spinning like a runaway tornado. Emily's head whipped side to side, trapped in spiraling metallic coffin. She caught a glimpse of what looked like a telephone pole as she spun across the intersection.

Emily finally came to more than an hour later. Her eyes fluttered open, her world totally out of joint.

“Emily?”

The voice sounded as if she were underwater. Emily was still swimming, about to break the surface. The light was so close.

“Emily?”

Emily found herself blinded by the light shining down on her from the ceiling. She tried to bring up her arm to shield her eyes, but found it restrained.

“Unhhhh,” she groaned.

“Emily, can you hear me?”

The brown-haired girl turned in the direction of the voice, the woman’s figure slowly coming into focus. A young blonde woman. She looked scared.

“Sam?” Emily finally said, managing to recognize her.

“Thank Christ you’re awake,” Sam sighed, a relieved smile forming.

“What the fuck happened?” she asked weakly, still unaware of her surroundings.

“You ran a stoplight and crashed into a huge truck. That’s what the doctor said anyway. Broke over a dozen bones.”

It was then Emily realized her arm was in a cast. So was her left leg. It was all coming back to her. The pain was coming back to her, and not just from her broken body.

“Oh, fuck. My car?” Emily frowned, already knowing the answer.

“Totaled. They said there was pretty much nothing left of it. You’re lucky to be alive, Emily. You really had never scared.”

A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Wait, is this the hospital Beth is at?”

“How do you think I got here so fast?” Sam snickered. “Don’t tell me you almost killed yourself trying to race to the hospital.”

Emily looked away. “No, that wasn’t it,” she said.

She bit her lip, feeling tears coming on fast. “That son of a bitch.”

“Em? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, tilting her head.

Sam rose from her seat and came closer as Emily began to cry. “H-he broke up with me. Over the phone.”

“What? You mean Mike?” asked a stunned Samantha.

Emily nodded weakly. “He asked out Jessica, who’s supposed to be my best fucking friend, and guess what? She said yes! So yeah, he called me on the road and he dumped me!”

Sam put the pieces together quickly. “He made you so upset you crashed your car?”

Emily said nothing. Sam made fists with her hands.

“What a bastard. I’m so sorry, Em.”

Emily didn’t offer a response, she was just sobbing. Sam looked to the open door, then stood up.

“Em, I’m gonna find a doctor. Tell them you’re awake. I’ll swing by later, okay? After you’ve got some rest.”

Emily managed another nod, but said nothing back. She watched Sam leave with a smile and a wave.

Emily faded back out shortly after.

By the time she woke up again, she had no idea what time it was, but the sky was dark. She had passed out for who knows how long. She lifted her head, looking out into the darkened hall. The was a light on somewhere out there. She didn’t see anyone though. There was a few empty chairs at a reception area outside. The hospital was dead quiet. All she could hear was the fan going from the vent on the ceiling. Must have been pretty late. She turned her head the other direction. just enough for her to barely make out a shrouded figure sitting in the chair. Someone was in there with her? She had a visitor this late?

“Sam? Is that you?”

Suddenly Emily heard the sound of helicopter propellers outside. Must have been someone being airlifted to the hospital. The chopper’s light shined bright overhead, illuminating a small streak across the room. Her visitor’s face was lit up for just a split second. Long enough for Emily to at least spot her dirty, ragged brown hair. Eyes cold and dead. Her once lively olive skin was badly decomposed. She wore a pair of mangled glasses. An unnerving smirk lay painted on her maggot-infested face. She rose to her feet, stepping out into the dim light. 

Emily’s visage twisted with dread. She just kept coming. Emily was immobile. She could do nothing but watch as the dead twin advanced, until she was looming over her hospital bed. A deafening shriek echoed through the emptied halls.

Emily shot upwards in her bed, drenched in sweat. Sudden agony shot through her system from straining her broken body. The brown-haired girl fell back against the bed, groaning and writhing in pain and discomfort. Her eyes darted about the room. It was day now. The next day? Or the same? She wasn’t sure.

“Fuck, was that a dream? Fuck me,” she said, short on breath.

She slumped her head back on her pillow, trying to get a hold of herself. That was new. That had never happened before. She hoped it never would again.

“Christ. What the fuck? That sucked.”

A nurse came to the door, having heard her cries of pain. “Miss Davis, you’re awake again. That’s good,” she said with a smile, coming to her side.

“Yeah, yeah I am,” said a breathless Emily. “What day is it?”

She gave Emily a drink of water before answering. “Friday,”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “D-did I pass out for two days?”

“Yes, you did. Your body needed the rest. Your parents were here yesterday, but you were asleep. Two other women came to check on you. The nice blonde girl, and that woman from upstairs, the missing one they found.”

Emily blinked. “Beth? Beth came to see me?”

“Yes,” said the nurse, fluffing her pillow and doing a few other things Emily wasn’t sure of. Checking all the nonsense that was attached to her no doubt. “Would you like me to tell her you’re awake? She seemed very interested in speaking to you.”

“Uh, yea, sure,” Emily said, an anxious feeling taking over her.

“Okay, I’ll let her know. I’ll go get you some food in the meantime.”

Emily tried her best to relax after the nurse left the room once more. On top of being stabbed in the back by both her best friend and her boyfriend and a victim of a major car accident, now she had nightmares to deal with. Emily sighed in exasperated disbelief.

“Fuck my fucking life.”