#going from the bottom of the table to getting into the playoffs in just a year is huge

[emeraldcitynerdfighter]

Ali Krieger getting the retirement sendoff from her club -- and advancing through the playoffs -- that Ash didn't and so desperately wanted is giving me L I F E

[silovsmenot]

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs (Part Two)

PART ONE | PART THREE

SUMMARY: A few months after your reunion with Artūrs, you're an official item. A surprise is ruined and Arty gets his call up to the NHL Playoffs. WARNINGS: This is pure, 1000cc fluff straight to the heart. I'm not sure if this baby goalie is capable of anything else. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: I never expected the first part of this to be so popular, so a big thank you to everyone who enjoyed it. Just beware, if this one is as popular, this might get a 3rd and 4th part... If you want more parts, let me know! WORD COUNT: 2067

Two months had now passed since your reunion with the grinning Latvian goaltender — it was to nobody’s surprise that the two of you become an item soon after. Your partner saw it coming from a mile away, and from the way he always gravitated to you at the end of their training sessions, a few of his teammates had their suspicions. A weight was lifted from both of you when he finally came clean to those who asked, full of pride when he first called you his girlfriend.

After a few visits, your flatmate knew him well enough to simply open the door without question at the sound of his knock, and you’d made a few visits to his place in Abbotsford. It was all still very new, but it was all so right. You were happier than you had been for a while now, his smile able to instantly cheer you and brush away any tensions you had from a bad day.

And you did the same for him. He was always a quieter one, hesitant to complain about a bad training session or a stressful game, but he’d come to you for reassurance. You knew there was a lot going on in his head with the rumours of Demko being injured once more, combined with the pressures of the AHL playoffs. Even you were stressed with it all.

But there was one thing that took your mind off everything — your best kept secret from Arty.

It was a Saturday morning. You’d kissed him goodbye that morning as he left your apartment for training, your hand pulling him back to you for one more kiss before he could escape. He walked out of the room, grinning from ear to ear as he’d pause at your door to simply look at you. And as you turned over to get a little more sleep, he watched for a moment with a soft sigh of contentment. He was happy, happier than he had been for a while now.

You knew you had some hours before he’d return from his training session in Abbotsford, plenty of time to get back to your secret. It was going to be a surprise — you thought you’d chucked out those Latvian language textbooks that your ex had bought you, but with a quick visit to your parent’s house, there it was. It now hid in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, beneath the makeup wipes and emergency chocolate.

So, with a cup of coffee, your comfort clothing on, you’d sit at your kitchen counter with a pencil and work through your pages for the day. You were still nowhere near able to speak with him in Latvian, but you were doing your best and you wanted to surprise him with your hard work.

You’d whisper each word and phrase as you filled in the blanks or drew on each special character or circled the right verb. Occasionally your flatmate would quiz you on what you’d done, having no clue what they were saying but you appreciated the help.

Deep in your daily lesson, you were fairly oblivious to the front door opening and closing, simply attributing to your flatmate who often slipped out without a word. Not even the following silence alerted you to anything different, until…

“A Latvian textbook, huh?” The familiar voice of your boyfriend whispered in your ears, hands quickly upon your waist as he knew you’d flinch in surprise. You jerked away in surprise with breath failing and pencil almost thrown across the room as hands tried (and failed) to hide the book.

It took you a moment to glance around with shocked, if slightly annoyed, eyes, which only made Art laugh more as arms snaked around your waist from behind and pulled you into him.

“Stop looking at it… Why aren’t you at training?” You snapped, finding your smile again as leaned back into his chest.

“I just got a call —”

He didn’t need to say anymore, you were immediately rising from your chair with an awkward turn in his arms to embrace him.

“I’ve got to get over to Rogers in an hour.” He finally whispered into your ear as he squeezed your tight. While you hoped that Thatcher was alright and they wouldn’t need an EBUG, you were beyond thrilled for your boyfriend. And it meant so much to you to hear him this happy.

But happiness would put on hold for a moment as your felt his arm moving behind your back, knowing all to well that he was up to mischief.

“Kā iet tavai latviešu valodai?” Artūrs teased with the book raised behind your back, he was awkwardly flicking through the book with one hand and struggling.

“My Latvian is going fine, it was supposed to be a surprise.” You replied, tone deflated as you glanced over your shoulder at the open book. A frown was at your lips, and he saw it immediately.

Stepping from the embrace, he dropped the book upon the counter and held you at arm’s length with one arm, the other came to rest upon your cheek. He just grinned at you — fuck, you loved that grin. You would melt instantly at the sight of it.

“It is a surprise, y/n, and if you’ll let me, I’ll help you.” He spoke softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss upon your forehead.  

Game one went passed without a hitch, Vancouver setting up with a 1-0 lead in the series with Arty sat comfortably and without disturbance as the EBUG. Game two, however, would see him promoted. With Demko out once more with undisclosed injury, your boyfriend took his place upon the bench as the Vancouver backup. He’d see no action that game, but you still watched on with greater concern than before.

As his bags sat by your apartment door, you kissed him goodbye on the morning of the 25th of April. The series taking them to Nashville for two games, you’d be forced to watch from Vancouver. He’d spent the last few nights at your place, favouring your room over the flat that the team had quickly given him next to the Rogers Arena — which he noted lacked blackout curtains. You’d told him to simply raise it with the team, but he didn’t want to be awkward.

He peppered your face with soft kisses as he knelt beside the bed, early in the morning, the flight to Nashville leaving in a few hours. You quiet laughed with each kiss, doing nothing to move away from them as you knew you’d miss him.

“Uz drīzu tikšanos — and keep up with your Latvian lessons.” Arty whispered with a final kiss upon your lips, his slowly growing playoff beard brushing against your chin.

“You can test me when you get home.” You replied in a quiet tease as he began toward the door, the grinning goalie glancing back at you and nodding his head without another word. You heard him leave and missed him immediately.

He’d text you as soon as he landed in Nashville, and you kept yourself busy for the day as you normally would with your work. The Canucks were away, but there was always something to photograph.

As was always the case with away games, all of the partners congregated at the Miller household to watch together and celebrate together if the boys won. You’d grown quite close with several of the partners, often more talkative than Artūrs, they’d come to you for plans instead of him knowing that you’d be more in tune with events. Game three ended with another win, and you enjoyed your night with the ladies.

Artūrs called you every night that he was away in Nashville. It was still so early in your relationship; the honeymoon phase was in full swing and neither of you enjoyed the distance. He was a private guy with everyone but you.

It was midday when you started hearing the buzz and getting cryptic texts from your partner — rumours coming out of Nashville were that Desmith would not be starting tonight. Vancouver would be running with their backup goaltender, who himself was being cryptic when you asked him.

You arrived early to the Miller household, somewhat relieved to be with Natalie as you avoided the texts from your colleagues as they begged for an insight into what was happening that you did not have. You were waiting for Tocchet’s announcement as much as everyone else. And you almost jumped for joy when you got it.

They announcement Arty would be starting barely an hour before the game, Natalie Miller was quick to embrace you in celebration. The game tonight would be entirely different as you sat, with a drink, your heart pounding in your ears.

Your grin was wide as you watched him skate onto the ice — in that sea of yellow, you wondered how he was feeling. And with every shot that he faced; you held your sleeves that little bit tighter.

In just three minutes, Boeser opened the scoring and Vancouver were up 1-0. There was a breath of relief from all the wives and girlfriends, each wearing a smile as there was a familiar confidence. The smiles, however, would quickly dampen as a shot from the point, tipped just in front, would even the score.

You could see the frustration beneath the mask, even from the couch in Vancouver. But with each shot that he saved; you watched his confidence build back up.

A fresh drink in hand in time for the puck drop the second period, you found yourself sitting in the closest chair to the tv as you watched with eyes full of worry. He could do it; you knew he could, but you were worried that he’d let his head drop. Watching an unlucky 2-on-1, the dragging puck flicked into the net just above his glove. Arty skated the line in the familiar frustration and you silently whispered to yourself.

‘You’ve got this, Arty… Come on.’

There would be no more scoring in the second period, Art saving everything that came his way with a few expert glove saves that made a number of the partners go ‘ooo’.

The third period opened with a loud shout from all the partners as a goal from a skate would sneak into the net. You all looked on in disbelief as it wasn’t disallowed for kicking, but there was little you could all do but complain. None more so than you.

But you watched him keep his head up, and you were so proud of him. They chanted his name, however poorly they pronounced it, and as time trickled down, Tocchet pulled him for the extra attacker. He’d done his part, now it was time for his teammates to do theirs. And Boeser answered the call with another goal putting Vancouver were back within one. And then another goal with 6.2 seconds to go, making it even and a tasty hattrick on the road. He’d received one hat on the ice, eliciting a small laugh within the Miller living room.

You went into overtime with your eyes hidden behind your sleeves, you couldn’t watch it. You were so desperate for them to return to Vancouver with another win — you listened to the sounds from the tv, and the sounds from the wives and girlfriends until you heard it. The shouts of celebration within the room, and your eyes opened. Elias Lindholm waiting patiently in front of the net and slapping it in before anyone even noticed he was there.

You watched with the biggest grin as Soucy and Šilovs were shown in the growing centre of a team hug, every player giving your boyfriend the taps on his helmet as he leaned into them. He’d won his first NHL playoff game, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him.

He wouldn’t look at his phone for some time and you knew that, but you wanted him to open his phone and to smile … More than he already would be.

It was a simple text, one you sent with your own grin on your face…

‘Es ļoti lepojos ar tevi, Arty.’

It was a few hours before you got a response, equally simple and sent with a bigger grin on his face as he sat with the boys in Nashville.

‘Es mīlu tevi.’

Uz drīzu tikšanos = I'll see you soon

Es ļoti lepojos ar tevi = I'm very proud of you

Es mīlu tevi = I love you

[zegrasdrysdale]

please write some matthew knies smut, there’s not enough of it on this app i swear

like just some good old love making yk after a long game he just comes home and hassss herrrrrrr

[ winner ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : an upset Matthew comes home to his Toronto apartment after a rough game 4 loss versus Boston and his girlfriend helps him feel better, and set him up for a successful game 5 in Boston

warning(s) : smut ! but it’s more like love making, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex

author’s note : clearly i didn’t start writing this until after playoffs started lmaoo (update: leafs are out :(( so sad)

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She watches the whole thing unfold from their shared apartment. She watches as the Leafs back themselves against a wall and go down 3-1 in the series. It’s not as if they had a bad game, but Boston just had a better game than they did.

Still, it breaks her heart when she watches the clock hit 0:00 and the Leafs leave the ice with their heads down. 23 is briefly shown on screen and she notices how sad Matthew looks.

It isn’t going to be pretty when he comes home from the arena. She isn’t ready to see how sad he really is about going down in the series and now facing elimination.

There’s an hour or so before he comes walking through the door so she has an hour to prepare for sad Matthew.

She grabs some of his favorite snacks and puts them out on the coffee table for when he gets home. She knows he’s a snacker when he has a rough game.

What kind of snack he wants when he gets home is always uncertain though. Sometimes he doesn’t want food.

The door opens about 90 minutes after the game ends. She looks over the back of the couch to watch Matthew walk in. He hangs his jacket up by the door then walks into the living room. He lets out a heavy sigh and she gets up to go greet her boyfriend.

“Hi, handsome,” she says as she quickly walks up to him. She wraps her arms around his torso. “You played great.”

Matthew presses a kiss to the top of her head. “It wasn’t enough tonight,” he mumbles into her hair. “It hasn’t been enough and now we’re facing elimination.”

She frowns and looks up at him. “Teams have come back and won a series after being down three to one,” she tells him. “Florida did it last year. Against Boston. I know you guys can do it too.”

He cups her jaw and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbones. "I love the enthusiasm and optimism, but I think it's going to be another first round exit for us," Matthew replies. "That's fine, as long as we put up a fight next game."

"Matt-"

"It was a long game, baby," he interrupts. "Can we just ignore hockey for a little bit? Please?"

With a nod, she asks, "Do you have any ideas?"

Matthew's tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. "A few," he says with a smile. "Come here."

She tilts her head up and a six-foot-three Matthew has to lean down to press a soft kiss to her lips. Her fingers curl around his shirt to keep him close. The kiss starts out slow and soft, but quickly turns needy.

His fingers slide from her jaw into her hair. He holds the back of her head as his fingers curl in her locks. She smiles and Matthew can't help but kiss it.

"This is your idea of forgetting about hockey for a bit?" she questions between kisses.

Matthew hums in reply without breaking the kiss. She laughs and rests her hands on his torso. She pushes him gently toward their bedroom. He kicks off his shoes as they stumble their way to the room.

He leans down after a second to pick her up. She squeals and laughs. "Matt!" The kiss breaks and she looks at her boyfriend as she wraps herself around him.

"It's just easier if I carry you," he tells her as he enters the dimly lit room. "Want to be inside you already."

She smiles as Matthew moves his hands to the back of her thighs to keep her from sliding down his body. She rids herself of the shirt she stole from his side of the closet. His eyes are on her bare upper body since she decided to be comfortable and not wear a bra under the Leafs t-shirt.

Matthew sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he takes her in. She smiles and connects their lips again in a heated kiss. Her fingers trace his jaw as he crawls on his knees on the bed. He lays her on her back and hovers over her between her knees. She smiles into the kiss that follows.

Very slowly, she manages to get him out of everything but his boxers. He doesn't want to stop touching her long enough to get naked. She almost literally has to force him to take off his clothes. Especially since she's completely naked underneath him.

As Matthew finally pulls off his boxers, she rolls over and grabs a little foil package from the drawers. Matthew pulls her back and she smiles up at him. "Come on," he whines. "Condom?"

"No mini Knies running around just yet," she laughs. "Hurry up and put it on because I need you, baby."

He smiles and grabs the tiny package out of her hand. She watches as he rips it open with his teeth and slides its contents onto his dick. She stares up at him and notices how much more relaxed he looks. He didn't look this relaxed when he walked in the door a little bit ago.

She thumbs at his swollen lips from the amount of kisses they've shared and stares up at him. When he looks back at her. he raises his eyebrows in confusion. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," she tells him as she pushes his longer hair out of his face. "I was just admiring you. You look pretty. Relaxed."

Matthew grabs her wrist and presses kisses to the skin. "Well, coming home after a rough loss to my beautiful girlfriend helps me relax," he replies. "Being in bed with said beautiful girlfriend is the best feeling."

"I love you," she reminds him. "In case you needed to hear that."

He leans down and captures her lips in a soft kiss. It's a welcomed change from the heated, needy kisses they've shared over the last few minutes. She lifts her hips and the tip of his cock runs through her soaked folds.

"I love you too," Matthew mumbles against her lips. "So much, pretty girl." She smiles and he dips the tip of his dick into her. She hums in response to his movement.

She wraps her legs around his waist as Matthew slowly buries himself in her. The familiar stretch is welcomed as he bottoms out in her. She hums into the kiss that follows.

When he begins to thrust, the kiss breaks and Matthew rests his forehead on hers. She movements are slow, but he can move deeply inside her because of the angle. She doesn't expect tonight to be any rougher than this because he did just play an intense playoff game a few hours ago.

Their lips barely touch every time he thrusts into her. They share an occasional eskimo kiss every so often. The softness of the touches and how slow his movements are make her smile.

The tip of his dick hits her favorite spot and she gasps. "Matt," she sighs. "Right there. Fuck, baby."

"I have you, pretty girl," he tells her.

He slams into that spot over and over again. Her body arches off the mattress in response. Soft moans pass her lips as Matthew presses a few kisses to her chest and breasts while he moves. He hooks an arm around her waist to hold her up.

Her fingernails dig into the skin on his back. She feels bad knowing that his teammates are going to make fun of the marks if they see them, but tomorrow is a travel day before they play again in Boston so maybe the marks will have faded by the time he has morning skate in a few days.

Matthew's thrusts get sloppy and her legs her shaking. They're both so close to their climaxes.

"Matt," she pants. "Please."

"You don't need my permission to come," he tells her with a smile. He's out of breath as he talks. "I want you to come on my dick, pretty girl."

His words shoot right down to her core. The knot in the bottom of her stomach tightens, and with one more deep thrust, it comes undone.

She cries out his name as she comes on his dick. Her entire body shakes and her vision goes white for a second as she hits her climax.

Matthew doesn't stop though. He fucks her through her orgasm until he reaches his own. As she melts against the mattress, he shoots into the condom. He collapses on top of her and presses lazy kisses to her collarbone. She runs her fingers through his hair.

"You better score in game five and win," she pants. "I just gave you all the good luck in the world."

He laughs and shakes his head as he discards the now used condom. "Anything for you."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Overtime in a possible elimination game is the worst. She's wearing all the Leaf gear she can put on her body, including her WAG jacket that was made for her for playoffs. She's on her feet as overtime starts.

She's never been more nervous in her life. A 1-1 game in game five is the worst possible score.

Tavares shoots the puck at Swayman and it rebounds. The puck ends up on Matthew's stick and he puts it in the back of the net.

"There you go, baby!" she shouts as she jumps up and down to celebrate her boyfriend's girl and a Leafs win. "There you go!"

The Leafs celebrate on the ice in Boston. They stave off elimination for tonight. They'll come back to Toronto in a few days to force a game seven.

She sends him a text a few minutes after the game ends.

to knisey ♡ - 10:29 pm knew you could do it. get home asap so we can celebrate

from knisey ♡ - 10:46 pm calling you in a minute because i can not wait

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[montrealmadison]

Tater 27 please ?

i have never written tater before - ever! - so this was incredibly fun! thank you so much for the prompt and for helping me stretch my writing muscles a little bit ❤️ the only things i know about patater are inspired by a frankly shocking quantity of sidgeno rpf so make of that what you will

27. tater + i’m so tired by lauv & Troye Sivan for @shygryf

Strangers, killing my lonely nights with strangers And when they leave, I go back to our song, I hold on Hurts like heaven, lost in the sound Buzzcut season like you're still around Can't unmiss you, but I need you now

Tater’s letting some girl he doesn’t know shoot tequila out of his belly button when he gets the text.

Kent Parson: you awake? Kent Parson: sorry know it’s late

It is late, three or so, and the club’s fun but the idea of not being here is just as good. Maybe it’s rude, but he doesn’t care; he props his elbow on the table for better leverage and sends back, yes, and then ok?

Kent Parson: no Kent Parson: popped my achilles Kent Parson: we're out

Shit. That means the end of their playoff run, which in turn means about five hundred other things. He doesn’t even have the chance to formulate a response before Kent adds, will you come?

A cold thing settles in Tater’s chest, a weighty purpose that he doesn’t stop to examine. Maybe it's the shots making this seem like a good idea; of course he will, and that’s the end of it. There’s something about clambering up off the table, tequila soaking down into his open fly, and shouldering his way to the exit without a word that makes him feel about a thousand feet tall.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

Kent lives in a nice building. Not nice enough for the security guy downstairs to make any real effort to stop Tater from getting in, but then, Tater is six foot seven and built like the desks that lesser men hide behind. He hits the button for the elevator and zips upward, chewing on his lip, watching the numbers tick higher.

This is stupid. This is an absurd way to spend a thousand dollars and God knows how many days, catching a frantic red-eye to Vegas like he’s going to be able to do anything the Aces’ trainers haven’t already tried. It’s more absurd that he stands in the hallway with his fist poised to knock on Kent’s front door for at least five minutes, wondering if he should have brought food. Does the kid even eat? He’s awfully tiny.

He finally gets over himself and knocks. There’s a voice from inside at once: “Open.”

Tater does.

The apartment is nice, modern. It’s also a complete fucking mess. There are ostentatiously dirty shoes scattered all over the entryway, possibly-related scuff marks up the bare white walls. Tater has to do this dainty hop through a minefield of Yeezys just to make it to solid ground, and is very glad that no one can see him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Parson?”

“In the living room.”

Tater drops his bag in the kitchen and heads for the voice. The close little hallway seems much more inviting than it did in the dark last time he was here, and the living room is spacious and airy without a couple hundred bodies packing it. There’s a big TV on one wall, running something trashy. In the middle of the room is that ugly couch, brown suede and covered with cat hair, and in the middle of the couch is Kent.

Relief spreads through Tater at once, numbing the tingle in his hands. Okay, so maybe he spent the whole five-hour trip picturing the worst-case scenario. Guys in their line of work are not, as a rule, great at handling their injuries, especially later in the season; Tater only has to look at Jack for proof of that one. But Kent’s eyes are clear, if tired and a little wet-looking, and he’s sprawled out comfortably with his hand in Kit’s fur and his wrapped ankle carefully supported by a pile of throw pillows. He’s wearing ratty old sweats, white socks gone gray on the bottoms, a couple days’ worth of scruff that marks his sorry excuse for a playoff beard. 

“Shit, man,” he says, seeing Tater in the doorway. “You came.”

“You call.” 

It’s not quite that simple, but somehow, faced with the fact of Kent’s obvious, boneless relief at having him here, it feels like the right sentiment.

“I did,” Kent says. He sounds croaky, exhausted. The deep shadows under his eyes make them look more green. Tater wonders if he’s slept, or how much. “Thanks.”

He has this weird impulse to poke the bear, which maybe isn’t fair to Kent, but it’s all he knows how to do. 

“You miss me?” he asks, slouching further into the room. Kit lifts her head imperiously to watch him settle a polite distance away on the couch. “That why you ask me, not teammate?”

This is the dynamic they built at the bar, in the darkness of Kent’s bedroom: push and pull, catch and release. Things are still too new, too fragile between them; they’ve never implied a sense of belonging to each other, or at least not the kind that prompts something like this. 

As it stands, Kent doesn’t play along with the teasing, and that’s what finally gives Tater a sense of how shitty he feels. 

“Let ‘em grieve, right?” he says listlessly, tipping his head into the back of the couch. “Shit game. Didn’t wanna bother them.”

You were okay with bothering me, Tater thinks but does not say. A guy you’ve hooked up with twice who lives across the country. What the fuck does that mean?

He knows what he wants, what he wants it to mean. It’s part of what caught his eye in the first place: this kid is so, so young to be a captain, to bear this weight. The Aces are out of the playoffs not because they played their hardest, but thanks to a non-call and an injury that’ll have Kent in PT all summer. Now he’s curled up on the couch in his disaster of an apartment with only the cat for company, his teammates pushed away or otherwise nowhere to be found. It’s incongruous with the spitfire who finds a reason to drop gloves every time they share the ice, who likes to have his wrists pinned down and kisses with too much teeth and, holy hell, called Tater in Providence when he got hurt.

“Bother me anytime,” Tater says before he can bite down on it. He scoots a little closer, clasping his hands briefly between his knees. “Poor Parson. Need friend when teammates being sad.”

Kent’s laugh turns into a cough and Kit scrambles off his chest, affronted. 

“Is that what you are?” he asks. “My friend?”

“Maybe,” Tater hums, pretending to consider. “Well. Maybe not yet.”

“Not yet,” Kent echoes. He sounds puzzled. “Okay?”

“We not really know each other,” Tater says. Maybe it’s mean, the way this is lighting him on fire. Kent likes to bottom, but never to lose control; even in bed he runs his mouth like everything that comes out of it is gospel truth. Opportunities to catch him on the back foot are few and far between, and—well. Tater likes to take care of his people, likes to show them love, and above all likes a challenge.

“We don’t—”

Tater decides to take pity on him. “Sex not knowing, Parson. Think maybe you think that way.”

Okay, yeah, this is definitely mean. Kent’s breath is coming faster, and the line of his jaw is set and trembling. But Tater wants to push him a little bit, get his money’s worth for the flight, the worry; Kent can pay him back in kind, and will. Tater just has to help him get there.

“So what if I do?” Kent asks. His laugh is tiny. “Man, I’m confused. Not like we’ve had much more time to figure each other out.”

And yet you asked me here, Tater thinks, and decides to play his trump card.

“It’s summer. You not play, I’m not play.” Tater spreads his hands wide, goes for broke and scoots in close to curl a hand slow and sinuous around Kent’s good ankle. “Need rest, someone to take care. Seem like good time to me.”

Kent’s breath catches in his throat. He smells sweaty and kinda gross, but his smile is soft, a fragile thing, and Tater knows he’s gotten it right. 

“Captive audience,” Kent says, barely a whisper.

“Yes,” Tater agrees, and leans in to meet his mouth.

[arrowofcarnations]

“that’s it-fuck-that’s a good boy” or maybe “spread your legs, baby” ; tbh my favorite from you is honesty your mixnmatch pairings for lack of a better term lmfao, coops/oknutzy twosome or threesome? if you’re not in the mood, dealers choice lol

Thanks for the great prompts! I went with the second one, and picked Finn/Sirius for the pairing :)

Special thanks to @fruitcoops for helping me decide which boys the spicy roulette wheel would land on.

(Rating: M)

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Sirius liked the way Finn kissed. He poured all of himself into it, like there was nothing else he'd rather be doing—even if it was leading to sex, even if he'd been hard for ages. He was just plain good at it, too; he'd tipped Sirius over the edge more than once with a well-timed kiss, and watching Leo, Logan and even Remus chase his mouth for more was a common occurrence when they all played together.

Finn was kissing him like that now: soft lips and clever tongue, strong arms keeping Sirius against him on the couch in a loose hold as his hands wandered absently on Sirius's bare back, touching just to touch. He seemed content not to speed things up, as though he'd forgotten they were still in their boxers and hadn't made it to the bedroom yet—as though he'd forgotten there was an offer of much, much more on the table.

Finn kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, and Sirius felt so wanted, so special, that his heart thudded with it.

"Harzy," he murmured at last, breathing hard.

He watched Finn blink some of the haziness out of his eyes and run his tongue over his kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Hm?"

"Going to take me to bed?" Finn had seemed keen, more than keen, on doing just that when they'd arrived at the house.

He watched the splash of pink on Finn's face darken, and rubbed a thumb across one warm cheek. "Sorry," Finn laughed. "Got sidetracked. The beard's really working for you."

Sirius felt a pleased flush heat his own cheeks. He knew Remus liked when he let it grow out for playoffs, but this was the first he'd heard about it from someone else. "Oh?"

"Mhm. The beard, the longer hair..." Finn said, sitting up slowly and guiding Sirius backwards as he went. "And these," he added, giving Sirius a few playful squeezes along his shoulders and arms. He used his leverage on Sirius's shoulders to push him down until he was flat on his back, then settled right in on top of him. "Playoffs look good on you. Spread your legs, baby.”

The way Finn boxed him in made heat pool in Sirius's belly; his boxers felt more restrictive than they had a minute ago as he splayed his thighs wider to accommodate Finn. “Merci," he said, copping a shameless feel of Finn's strong back, the cut of muscle by his hips, the swell of his ass. "Toi aussi."

"Merci," Finn replied, his pronunciation purposefully a little off. Sirius's breath hitched at the press of a thumb to his lips. "Wanna kiss you some more. Ouais?"

There was that thud of his heart again, that warm, cherished feeling that'd been totally foreign to him before Remus and that still took him by surprise with anyone else. He knew Finn liked him, knew there was desire there—it'd be absurd to deny that after all the times he and Remus had ended up in Finn, Leo and Logan's bed—but he hadn't really known Finn wanted this with him. Just holding, just kissing, without trying to get somewhere in any sort of hurry.

Sirius cupped Finn's face in his hands and brought their mouths together just for a second. "Ouais," he whispered, because he wanted that, too.

[lecpenni]

LEC RETROSPECTIVE: ASTRALIS

Man, this one's just sad.

So Astralis have had a very unfortunate history in LEC so far. Rebranding Origen, which wasn't the most successful after 2016, qualifying to worlds in 2015 and making it to semifinals with that early Niels/Mithy botlane, before losing it to G2 and floundering around the bottom of the table until being demoted in 2017, and then being accepted as a partner org for LEC franchising.

After 2019's "superteam" lost in spring finals to the G2 actual Superteam, 2020's "superteam" (also featuring Upset, natch) performed basically ok then went 10th in summer, and rebranded to Astralis heading into 2021. Signing an all new roster going into 2021, they floundered around the bottom of the table, going 9th, tied 7th, then 9th and 10th in 2022. But the rosters always had flashes of brilliance with endearing players like Zanzarah, WhiteKnight who had arguably a top 3 lee sin in the world during that cursed Lane Sin period, and Kobbe who was a reliable rock looking for a team to finally step out of the shadow of his prior glories on Misfits and Splyce and his 2020 on TSM which was a disaaaaster. Well going into 2023, Astralis actually kept a surprisingly consistent core of Dajor in Mid, Kobbe in Bot, and Korean support Jeonghoon, previously known as Execute, who made a strong impression early in 2022 on Pyke and Bard, despite being on bottom CL rosters beforehand. In addition, they retained the same coaching staff, which while not the top tier of LEC coaches, you could do a WHOLE lot worse. The new additions were Finn in top lane, who had a... odd history prior to this. Debuting in 2019 Summer as a sub for Rogue, who had a fairly weak roster at that point, before making Worlds with a similar roster in 2020, and utterly flopping as the EU 3rd seed, moving to NA and joining CLG during their worst years ever, then coming back to EU and joining Excel during their most successful year, and missing out on worlds by getting reverse swept by a Fnatic who had a fair amount of promise. And in the Jungle, 113. I think most people would say he's probably one of the worse jungle prospects in the ERLs, and he certainly didn't impress while on KCorp, often dragging his team down. But, with a good coach and team around him, he could maybe impress. Early on, not many hopes were had for Astralis, who were often placed bottom 2 or 3 alongside SK in tier lists and power rankings, due to the slightly underwhelming pickups of 113 and Finn, Dajor's mostly amateurish gameplay and Kobbe and Jeonghoon probably being elo helled again due to this topside.

But against all odds, Astralis managed to not completely shit the bed in Winter! Overall they went 3-6 in winter, which did qualify them for Groups, barely. Losses to a new G2 and Yike on a carry jungler, vs Heretics with a brave ass Fiora pick, Vitality who actually did well in Winter overall, and BDS left them very unoptimistic going into week 3, but grabbing a win over Excel meant they were at least guaranteed a chance for top 8, with an incredibly dominant Lucian/Nami, and on Week 3, a clutch Gangplank from Finn snatched victory from the jaws of defeat dropping absolute gorgeous barrels that completely annihilated an MVP level Exakick on Lucian, and then the game that would decide if Astralis could make it to groups, vs a slumped Fnatic that would end up missing playoffs for the first time in their history. Astralis, against almost all odds made it to groups. You could argue it was off the back of Excel looking completely lifeless and horrendous, and Fnatic having a ridiculously poor season in a meta that hated them, but nonetheless, Astralis overcame them and a rising SK to make it to groups. Let's Goooo!!!! And in groups they shit it goddamn it. A 2-1 loss to MAD Lions, who ended up being Astralis' bane this season, with a genuinely unique and surprisingly strong Cassio/Twitch botlane (it lost anyways), and a monster performance from Dajor and the Botlane in Game 2, followed by getting a win over BDS who hadn't come into their winning ways just yet, anchored by a Kled from Finn, his previous one-trick, and a really damn good Varus from Kobbe, carrying them through to one last try at Playoffs. Who's their opponent MAD fucking lions goddamn it all.

A quick 2-0 from MAD, focusing a Dajor who floundered all series, and a fairly disastrous performance from 113, despite Kobbe's best effort on Lucian left Astralis in a maybe not respectable, but certainly surprising 5th place. They scrapped and fought their way up and punched up for most of their victories, demonstrating a style that maybe wasn't unlike some Asian teams, with a toplaner transitioned around the map to generate pressure, a roaming mid-jungle and a strongside botlane who made sure they were the stars. But most of all, they showed 0 fear on engaging and taking every little fight they could, to generate any kind of advantage. That made Astralis genuinely exciting to watch, but there was an obvious weak link on the roster, and that was Mid lane. Going into Spring, Dajor was out, and the rumoured Mid was none other than LIDER, a player who was often considered a dark horse for most inflexible player ever. The narrative was always that the man would and could only ever play assassins, an unusual thing in high level play, as most midlaners since 2016ish stuck to control mages, with occasional assasin picks or poke mages as niche counterpicks. But honestly? That was never true. LIDER did play mages as and when needed, the man just preferred assassins in the game, and he was still capable of your Ryzes, (with the meta changes) your Annies, your Aurelion Sols, even an Azir from time to time. Yes, assassins were his specialty, and mostly what he played, but the narrative that his assassins were his only successful picks? Just untrue. Spring began with a rough first week. FOR ASTRALIS' OPPONENTS, THAT IS. Taking games over KOI, who made playoffs last season, and the Champions G2, with a LIDER Irelia, and dropping a game to SK, with a... unique botlane of Veigar/Pyke that did NOT pay off. Week 2 went rougher, losing to MAD (i told you) and BDS, who came in with a clear gameplan and a perfect plan on how to execute every comp, and then taking a game off of Vitality thanks to a strong LIDER Asol, and a fairly bad game from Bo on the inverse. Week 3 began with a new look again, as LIDER got his Zed, and used it to utterly dominate midlane and carry Astralis through, basically securing playoffs for the team. A win over Excel, thanks to a LIDER Irelia, and a win over Fnatic with another LIDER Zed, a JeongHoon Blitzcrank secured Astralis their first 3-0 week, and a shot at the top couple spots of the season, placing 2nd overall. A damn good finish, if i've ever seen one. LIDER brought so much to the team, and they looked incredibly strong going into the next round. Some things hadn't changed, like 113's ability to be exploited, but overall this roster look shockingly strong, and their playstyle had been solidified, and bright eyes looked forward to groups. We begin the group stage against the one and only Fnatic, a genuinely shockingly close series for what should've been 2nd place vs 8th place, but an odd choice with Illaoi from Finn lost game 2, alongside a misguided Zed pick from LIDER, and a game 3 that hinged on the success of another LIDER Irelia, which managed to finally pull out the win after a half hour slugfest. Astralis, to be frank, were bleeding. They didn't look anywhere as scrappy or exciting as in the regular season, and their next series vs Vitality, to qualify for playoffs, well... Remember yesterday when I said this series was the one that showed the Bo That Was Promised, an insane mechanical hypercarry player who could demolish a team and turn them into a chinese tiktok montage? Yeah, Astralis was on the recieving end of that. 113 and LIDER got absolutely FARMED by a wukong, followed by a Lee Sin, and that was a deathblow for Astralis' mental it felt like. They had beat Vitality already once, like, what was this? Their next series, since they had already won the one vs Fnatic, was vs... MAD FUCKING LIONS. I told you they were their kryptonite this season.

And despite a Cassio and Talon (?) from LIDER, 113 got hard exposed and dominated by the mid jungle of MAD, ending their season, once again, early. This was a sad moment. Astralis had finally begun to reach the heights of the roster that was promised to them, but other teams started reaching their heights much faster than they did, and simply outclassed them. Over the break for MSI, Astralis was one of few roster to make no changes. They had a winning formula, the 2nd place in spring proved that, and the formula and strategy was locked down, scrap everywhere, fight everything, get lane dominant picks and move Finn around to every sidelane to make sure you couldn't do anything without worrying about where he was.

Well... Summer came. And this is where their story goes from hopeful rise of a plucky young adventurer, to a tragedy that ends with the adventurer getting beheaded by the mighty warlord at the end. Summer didn't go well. At all. Week 1 began with a game vs Fnatic, the team that they beat in Spring Groups, however now sporting a fashionable new Botlane of Noah and Trymbi, who proceeded to utterly shitstomp them. A game vs Heretics with a shiny new Vetheo and Flakked, who proceeded to utterly dismantle a LIDER Neeko, but ending the week on a positive note with one of the absolute worst earlygames i've ever had the pleasure of watching in pro league of legends, vs BDS. Nuc simply walks into LIDER for about 10 seconds letting him fully stack Lethal Tempo and nearly 1v2 Adam and Nuc. Please watch it, it's so absolutely pathetic and tragic for how the rest of the game now goes. Finn also helps by RPing Peak Shanji (the OMG toplaner known for his AP tops like Rumble) in the toplane vs Adam, and you know what. It's not the worst. It was a fun fucking game, but the fact that Astralis only won because BDS managed to completely annihilate their ENTIRE early game by doing that wasn't a good sign. Week 2 came by, Astralis were sitting tied with 5 other teams at 1-2, so not that well off, but they could be much worse. Right now they could be Excel still sitting at 0-3! First game, vs MAD lions oh for fuck sake why did they give Nisqy Gragas. That's like rule number 1 vs MAD since winter playoffs, don't give Nisqy Gragas. Well that's lost. Game 2, Vitality well this should be better, vitality look lost and helpless in almost every game now! And Astralis do it! Another Yasuo, with a Gragas for Finn in top handily sweeps the floundering Vitality, and Game 3 of the week pits them vs G2 aaaand yeah it goes about as well as you might think. The game's an absolute snoozer with 10 kills in almost 30 minutes, but demonstrates something amazing about G2 and something really bad about Astralis. Unless they're running the pace of the game, Astralis generally flounder. And G2 are professionals at running the game at the exact pace they desire. Week 3 comes by, and Astralis are a bit worse off. Now they're only tied with 3 other teams, and they could still make it to groups, but few people have high hopes for them. Some of the people they're tied against, they face this week, and BDS they've already beaten. This should be easy, right? Well they beat SK, thanks almost exclusively to a LIDER Azir, giving them one step up on the competition for 8th, now all they need is:

Beat KOI

SK Lose another game

Well, next game vs an Excel who got their first 3-0 week and look decently strong, they lose. No biggie. Would've been nice to win, but all they need now is SK lose (they didn't, they beat MAD) and to beat KOI. That KOI game was an absolute shitshow. Comp pulls out an off-meta Sivir and reminds the world why Sivir was the menace it was just after the rework, with a disasterclass from JeongHoon on Nautilus. Well, their season isn't over just yet! If SK lose to Fnatic, the First place team with a dominant insane botlane, an MVP jungler and one of the strongest toplaners right now, then Astralis qualify! Well they get a tiebreaker. But they've beaten SK before, it's doable again! That SK-Fnatic game was a nailbiter start to finish. From a surprisingly Humanoid Xerath, one of the most terrifying 4/4 Jaxes i've ever seen, and a ridiculous carry performance from Mr Sertussy, it was an end to Astralis' season. 9th place. Where most predicted they'd end in Winter and Spring. Afterwards, it's announced that due to Championship points, it's impossible to Astralis to qualify for Season finals, meaning for Finn, 113, LIDER, Kobbe and JeongHoon, that's it. Their season is completely over. Unlike Vitality who finished last, they're done for now. Following this was some truly heartbreaking posts, especially from Finn, which I'll show here in its entirety:

Finn spent most of the year playing at a high level, being massively underrated on Astralis' roster, and even arguably on Excel, and to lose like this is really heartbreaking. As he says, At the end of the day 2 teams have to miss out, this summer split it just ended up being us. Astralis' future is unknown. Even before the split, rumours were abound that the org was planning on collaborating with KCorp and making the LEC spot a joint-ownership between Astralis and KCorp, but that deal fell through. Most of these players deserve more shots, but most teams won't be shopping around for new players in the offseason until worlds in October/November. I do hope the best comes for this team and these players. APPENDED: I finished this post at around 3:30PM on Friday, and a report has just come out about an hour ago from blix.gg (read here on this link) that Astralis are considering selling their spot again, and negotiations got pretty far with Saudi Org, Falcons, who operate a french CSGO (now CS2 i guess) starring KennyS. Riot apparently blocked the sale, not wanting a Saudi investment firm to get in. Blix also says that some ERL teams are competing for the spot, and if it does end like this, man that's sad. Yeah Astralis weren't the best team but they had heart and their players were likeable as fuck, with genuinely cool plays and players across their history, even in the most dire days of their history.

[seedlessmuffins]

hi, k! since you opened your inbox for hockey asks, here we go...

one you told me your team was the same as ferrari in the sense of the teams' management being harmful to the athletes' performance. could you explain exactly how it happens? i'm curious!

nikka i am kissing you on the forehead because i love this question, but this explanation is also very long so im hiding it under the cut but i hope you enjoy!

k ama: hockey edition!

ok so back story time. from about 2008-2012, the canucks (my team) were a very good team. because of the nhl's salary cap, this means that in order to stay very good and competitive for the stanley cup, they were implementing a strategy called "going all in" which means they were trading future draft picks and spending all their money to make sure the team was good in the present, even if it meant that the team would be worse in the future.

in 2011, the canucks were very very good. one of the best in the nhl. they had won the president's trophy, the award for the team with the most points at the end of the regular season (so the best team in the league, it is the equivalent of a football team winning their league and then going into the cl), and they had so many amazing players. they made a run to the stanley cup finals and lost in game 7 (sports trauma for me as a kid). because they lost though, they needed to trade and let some players leave so they could build up the team to be good again the next year, and have the salaries fit under the cap.

the next year in 2012, they also won the presidents trophy, but they were out in the first round of the playoffs (like the knockout stages of the cl). same as in 2013. now the organization is in a bit of a panic, because they have sacrificed players who could play for them in the future in order to get players who can play well for them now, but the team isn't performing like they expect them to.

this is when the spiral started. the team was playing bad, so a lot of the young players who we drafted had to play on the nhl team too early, before they were ready to, which lead to their player development being stunted when they were playing in the higher leagues before their skating ability and strength had developed. a lot of them were also too young, and having all the pressure of being in the highest league in a city crazy about hockey led to them burning out of the nhl and not filling their potential.

the team also took a lot of bets on players that didn't pan out for one reason or another, either because they were put into a role that they weren't ready for or because they were given too much responsibility, but either way they didn't thrive and sometimes haven't played for a good nhl team, or even in the nhl at all, since they left the canucks. the list is endless juolevi, virtanen, goldobin, granlund, stetcher, macewan, and those are just a few of many.

the team has gone through many phases since 2011, but they have hit rock bottom like three times and still haven't really bounced out of it. the player development thing is better now, but a lot of our superstar players are stuck on a mediocre, mid table team that doesn't seem to be changing drastically to improve. of course i have hope, i want to see hughes and pettersson and demko and the rest of our young star players to win a cup together (and i want to see the city of vancouver get a stanley cup. we deserve it) but realistically,,, we aren't ready and it has been this cycle since 2012/2013.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (370): Thu 22nd Mar 2023

As soon as I woke up I nervously stuck on last nights Lakers game against the Suns, knowing that any loss they suffer from now on could be the one that knocks them out of playoff contention and every shot taken by a Lakers player who isn’t Austin Reaves could signal the start of an embarrassing defeat. Thankfully the Lakers absolutely thrashed the Suns which I was chuffed to see but also kind of baffled because handily thrashing the team that is third in the Western Conference makes their embarrassing loss to the Rockets who are in last place seem inexplicable. The Lakers are now in joint eighth place along with the Dallas Mavericks and the Oklahoma Thunder. The Mavericks next two games are against the Charlotte Hornets which I’m worried about because the Hornets are near the bottom of the Eastern Conference so in theory the Mavericks should smash them easily. Also next up the Lakers are going against the Thunder so I need the Hornets to pull off two major upset victories and then I need the Lakers to thrash the Thunder and after that it should be smooth sailing because their next two games are against the Chicago Bulls who suck.

Checked out last nights AEW Dynamite which started out with footage of the Young Bucks being loaded into an ambulance after an apparent attack at the hands of the BCC. Fuck my bollocks! An actual angle? In AEW? Is Tony Khan feeling okay?

The first match was a trios encounter between Butcher, Blade and Kip Sabian vs Orange Cassidy, Darby Allin and Sting. It was great to see Sting and it breaks my heart that he’s retiring this year but…state of this jacket he came out to ring wearing.  Going from elaborately tailored trench-coats to this is ridiculous. I expected to see this on the back when he turned around

After The Gunns defended their tag titles against Top Flight (with help from The Kingdom), FTR came out and told the Gunns that if they lost to them in a rematch they would leave AEW. The Gunns accepted and afterwards they spit in FTR’s face and the spit was so gooey that there was a long string of it going from Dax’s face to his hand when he wiped it off. It was gross…not Lakers losing to the Rockets gross but still gross.

Next up Jade Cargills lawyer Mark Sterling delivered a cease and desist order to Taya Valkyrie to stop her using the Road to Valhalla as it’s too similar to Jaded.

Hook put up his FTW title against Stokely Hathaway next. This was a nothing squash but a highlight was  The Firm cheering Stokely on to his face but then when he went down to the ring stating to each other that he’s goi to get battered.

Next was a decent match between Jon Moxley and Stu Grayson. Later on in the show as Grayson was being attended to by the doctors the BCC continued the beat down. This was the first time in a long while AEW have done an episode of Dynamite where there was actually a recurring segment that unfolded throughout the night and it wasn’t just one and done. More of this please!

Adam Cole had in ring confrontation with Daniel Garcia who declared himself Coles first challenger since he’d been cleared to wrestle. Cole is a good, passionate promo but like MJF a few years ago he’s missing those sharp lines and disses that get people invested. Hopefully he’ll get better the more he gets the mic.

The main event was an awesome high flying brawl between El Hijo Del Vikingo and Kenny Omega. Luna watched the entire Omega match and was glued to the screen throughout.I was explaining why the wrestlers were doing every move and why they mattered (it was like watching a wrestling match with Vince Russo). The spot she and I loved the most was Vikingo hiring a 630 through a table on the outside and a springboard poisoned rana on the inside. Afterwards the BCC attacked and Hangman Page came out for the save after driving an ambulance back to the arena. However Page accidentally hit Callis afterwards which made Kenny wonder where hangman’s loyalties really lie (and it’s a good thing AEW wrestlers aren’t allowed to watch replays of the show to see what really happened and they just have to base decisions on what they half observed).  

I went to the Roadwise motorbike guys initially to take a lesson so the guys could see if I was at a level where they’d be comfortable putting me in for a test before the end of June when my theory certificate runs out.  However when I got the guy in charge of booking the tests said that they had a slot at the end of May but even if I passed it would only be the Module 1 test (you need to pass a module 1 and module 2 for bike for some fucking reason) which only lasts until the theory test runs out and they didn’t have any module 2 tests available before the end of June so it appears I will have to sit the theory test again. I have attempted to get lessons and a test booked in on and off over the last few years since I finally passed my theory but because of COVID they’ve always been backlogged. I’m dreading the process of having to memorize the entire theory handbook again but it’s got to be done.

[bananarantanen]

jack hughes, scene one - james dean and audrey hepburn, #4. maybe like u struggling with him being in NJ and things are changing from when u first started your relationship???

word count: 1.2k+

“how the hell did we end up like this?” ► scene one - james dean and audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

he was late.

this wasn’t the first time he was coming home as of late and it never was an issue for you… until now. he’s just been working extra hard at the rink, you remind yourself, trying to ring out the end of the season on a high note whether the devils make it to the playoffs or not. going into the relationship you have always understood the trials that come with dating a hockey player, let alone one of the league’s key stars. but, it doesn’t mean you have to fake smile through the needles that are pricking the back of your mind.

when you first dating jack in high school, life was simple. he would pick you up in the mornings so you could have breakfast together, eat lunch with the rest of your friends while holding hands underneath the table, and would make a night out of every single one of the ntdp’s home games – you two couldn’t stand being apart. you catch yourself reminiscing about those old moments as you scroll through vsco, smiling at oversaturated pictures of you in the stands of usa hockey arena in your “hughes” jersey and some others of you two laying on the dock at his family summer home. the adolescent grins on the screen had no idea the late night jumps into the cold waters of the lake were nothing compared to the dive into adulthood.

back then, there was no rent to worry about and date nights were constantly exciting every time they came around. you still get butterflies in your stomach whenever he’s around. though ever since you moved in with him at the beginning of this season, moments you used to cherish, like cooking together or friday night movie sessions, now just seem like passing-by movements; sometimes almost like a chore.

“hey, y/n. sorry i’m late again,” he drops his bag at the door and drops down to kiss your cheek as you sit on the cold couch. “ty wanted to get chipotle after practice and there was mad traffic.”

“no problem,” you sigh as you stare blankly at the television screen, flipping through the channels.

“were you watching something?” he questions as he scrambles through your cabinets, probably about to make a protein shake. he scours through every part of your kitchen, opening jars and bags and doesn’t even bother to put anything back in its place. you grit your teeth knowing you’re going to be the one to clean it all up later.

“mhm,” you reply through tight lips. you had gone through every shitty romcom you could find on netflix throughout the day and there was nothing that could fill that jack-shaped hole in your heart.

he finishes up his shake and makes his way over next to you and you slide perfectly right into his arms. “so,” he begins. “what’re you thinking for tonight? or did you manage to get ahead in ginny & georgia without me, again?”

you know he was just teasing you but the true response you wanted to get across to him was stuck at the bottom of your throat, leaving you tense while still in his embrace. yeah, you might’ve jumped at your alone time and managed to finish the show without him. but, it’s because he’s not around enough to actually get to it nowadays. or, he’d be too tired after practice or a game to spend time with you.

it made you feel like shit.

“hey, wait, did you actually finish it without me?” he says looking down at you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“i’m gonna go to bed.” you stand up from your laden position and start to head down the hall to your guys’ room. as much as you’d like to finally relax with him, you know the night is just gonna end with him falling asleep halfway through whatever episode you two last left off together.

“you’ve got to be kidding me, y/n,” he groans.

you turn on your heel and glare while he’s sitting in the same position as you left him, shoes not even taken off since he’s gotten to the apartment. he mimics the darkened look on your face and you could feel the burning in your throat from before slowly rising. “what? can’t a girl sleep?”

he stands up straight, walking towards you with light footsteps, feeling like if he moved with more weight, he’d break something in you – he wasn’t sure exactly what but he knew something was up. “hey now, i didn’t mean any harm. i just miss you.”

“well, if you truly meant that you would be here more. or at least on time,” you murmur to yourself, sinking into the sleeves the sweatshirt you had stolen from him during his 2019 world juniors trip.

“what do you mean? i’m right here?”

then that was it. it was a minor comment, though enough to blow fumes from your ears. you knew that if you kept shoving down the fire in your throat, it’d leave a blister. and, that is something you don’t know you could deal with forever.

you throw your hands up. “you know what i mean, jack! you’re never home! and please don’t give me the bullshit excuses of practice or more training or team bonding or whatever the fuck you can muster right now. i don’t want to hear it.”

“but i-”

“but you what?” you taunt, taking a couple steps towards him. “you’re doing it for us? our future? god, how could you talk about such things despite the fact that we’re barely together anymore aside from bed?” you're so riled up at this point you don’t even realize you have dug so far into your palms that the marks of crescent moons were on the brink of bleeding. while you were speaking your mind to jack, excessively gesturing out all your frustrations, your sleeves rolled down to your elbows and he takes notice of the state of your hands.

you stare deeply into his eyes, waiting for a response, and all he does is take your hands into his own and tenderly rubs the marks you’ve made.

you want to be angrier with him right then and there. however you both know that whenever you’re at the point of breaking, he’s also the only person in the world that can calm you down.

his thumbs trace the lines on your palm before properly looking back at you and within that one moment, that one action, you could feel your walls slowly crumbling down.

“listen, i am so sorry if you feel this way,” he coos as he tugs you into his arms tightly. “i should’ve known something was up and i should’ve tried listening to you.”

you sniffle, “i know i’m super upset at you right now because it's mainly your fault but i’ve been pretty bad too. you just said you should’ve tried listening to me but how could you if i never said anything in the first place? sulking doesn't say much.” you shove your face in the crook of his neck as you continue letting the tears drip down your face.

he rests his chin on top of your head and he likely thinks you can’t hear him amongst all the chaos in your head and his heart. yet, you hear him whisper “how the hell did we end up like this?” and your heart takes a hit.

god, you knew loving jack hughes was going to be hard. still, you did it no matter what others had warned you about.

was this the bright red sign everyone was talking about?

-

taglist (click here to join!): @sorryjustafangirl @corneliakatelyn 

lol i forgot i made one so if u read this already and just are getting the notif rn sorry 

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on earth (4)

Chapter: 4. Spy Games

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, unedited asf

Summary: This is an X Reader insert rewrite of the series Outerbanks, following the plots and events of the series, with certain twists to fit the reader into the story and to make things interesting.

A/N: Early chapter! Just want to start off by saying this is not my best chapter, it's also the shortest one by far. Not really proud of this one but I'd like to blame that on stress in my personal life and my rush to get this done on time since I'm not going to be able to post on Friday much less on Thursday, I promise the next ones going to be better. Nevertheless thank you for all the support, comment or send me a message to be added to the tag list :)

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Word Count: 4.5k

Chapter 3 - Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Chapter 5

You all had found the royal merchant but not the gold, the ship was wrecked at the bottom of the ocean but no treasure. All that trouble and for nothing. To make matters worse when docking your boat in your backyard, walking into your home the social worker, Cheryl, sitting on your couch, and a cop standing in the middle of your kitchen with impassive faces. The urge to flee was overwhelming though you knew you should try to see if you and John B could talk your way out of whatever this was first.

By the look of it, this wasn't going to be like how it was when you were sitting in her office.

"You know Cheryl, it's kind of a bad time for a check-in." John sets down his book bag and box of cereal on the dining table.

"Not a check-in, we're here to take you, the both of you." She emphasizes as if you weren't aware.

You walk slowly towards John B, glaring at her in shock "Today?"

"It's just for a few weeks until your hearing," she says. That does not make you feel any better.

"No, no, no. Cheryl look, we're not going to foster care okay?" Your voice is in a slight panic. "We are not gonna go be a part of your little system," You say raising two fingers in quotations.

The cop in your kitchen walks up behind you, Cheryl introduces him "Y/N, John B, this is Deputy Thomas." John B stands up from his chair, you back up with him clutching the sleeve of his jacket. "He works with juveniles for the sheriff's department."

Cheryl rises from her seat at the couch, "Look, I know Uncle T is down in Mississippi working at a casino. He hasn't been here in months," John B scoffs to playoff disbelief then tries to run.

"No, see that's my nightmare right there." He runs a hand through his hair, pacing. "Look, I-I want emancipation."

"Emancipation from who? There's nobody here but you, and your sister."

"Asylum, then?" You ask

"On what grounds?"

"On--on solid grounds, on holy grounds, whatever fricking grounds that'll get us out of this!" You speak frantically.

"Look, this feels like we're being really prosecuted right now by you and-- especially Mr. Big Head over here, what are you looking at, bro? what're you gonna do, you gonna tase me?" John B shuffles to run again. You stay behind waiting to see what the cop does when John B throws cereal on his face and the cop pounces, wrapping John B in a headlock.

"He didn't do anything, Cheryl, Call your dog off!" You yell, your brother was being wrestled by a man way bigger than him. "Let him go, he's a minor! In case you forgot why you're here in the first place!"

"That's enough" She shouts, then says in a calm voice "Relax, John."

You wish you could do what the cop did to John B to Cheryl with the way she speaks to you both.

"Fine, we're going," John B conceded "Let's go pack our stuff Y/N," He motions for you to go to your room.

You roll your eyes huffing, you take out an old bookbag you had under your bed and pack an extra pair of clothes, your book, the stuffed animal your dad won you at a county fair so many years ago, and JJ's hoodie he left since winter.

The cop watches you pack in your room while Cheryl watches John B, you assumed so that you both wouldn't escape. "Fucking creep," You mutter as you shoulder bump him on the way out from your room, he catches your forearm "Excuse me?"

"Don't touch me," You shout out "John B!"

"Let her go!" His eyes meet the grip Deputy Thomas has and he loosens his hold, you tore away from him.

John B goes back to his room, unpinning the picture of your father he has on his bulletin board.

"See this, Cheryl?" He shows her the picture, "Do you know who this is? Yeah, it's our dad, and you know what he wanted? He wanted us to stay here, at home together."

His voice raises, "And, you're taking us away from home, from each other, do you understand that?"

You observe her face as well as the cops who both don't seem to give a damn, "It's the law, John B." She replies as if that's all there is to it.

You're both sitting in the back seat, radiating rage, your foot tapping to control your temper. John B takes your wrist, writing something with his finger, you and John B practiced "writing" on each other's wrist whenever you wanted to say something in front of people without them knowing. Follow my lead, trust me, we run separate ways.

All the anger turned into pure adrenaline, of course, John B would find a way to get you both out of this. The back window was opened a couple of inches, John B stares at the picture pensively then naturally slips it out the window as if the wind blew it away. "No, stop, stop, stop. Please, stop."

"His picture," you catch on "it's the last picture of our dad, please."

"Not gonna happen, kid," Deputy asshole looks back.

"Come on, just stop the car" John B insists.

"Tom, pull over." Cheryl commands, the car rolls to a stop "Thank you," John B gratifies.

The cop walks out of the car and looks at the road you had just passed, "Cheryl, can I help him look, please?"

"He's got it," You watch from the back window, he shrugs as if to say there's no sign of it. "This idiot, he's not even looking in the right place, it's gonna get trashed. Cheryl, please." You plead. "It's our final keepsake of our dad, are you really gonna let that happen?"

"Make it quick," She sighs and unlocks the door. You smile internally, knowing what she just did will screw her over.

"Yes ma'am," You both unbuckle "Thanks Cheryl," John B says lastly before you bolt from the car.

You sprint away from the car, bag in hand, you sling it across your back as you rush to catch up with John B.

"You head to JJ's I'll meet you there!" He shouts almost getting run over by two cars and you run in the opposite direction of where he's headed. You take shortcuts and make sure not to be followed, by the time you made it to JJ's you were gasping and panting. You were sure he couldn't hear you because he was using a teddy bear as target practice. Once you caught your breath you came up from behind him and slipped off his earmuffs.

"JJ!" You shouted into his ear, he whirled around pointing his gun at you. You put up your hands in surrender, "little unnecessary, don't you think?"

"Jesus, Y/N, the hell you sneaking up on me like that for?" He lowers the gun unloading it and putting it on safety.

"Well, excuse me for assuming you weren't going to fucking shoot me while you were murdering a teddy bear!" You defended while stifling your laughter.

"Hey, I'm practicing my bodyguard skills, you're gonna thank me when the time comes to use the gun."

"Just like you used the gun when the groupers invaded my house?" You recalled, He looked at you eyebrow raised and finger-pointing at you. "They just caught me off guard that time, next time I'll be prepared," He posed with the gun pretending to look around for bad guys.

You snorted, "Okay, JJ Bond." You played with the ends of the straps of your bag nervously, "listen, um- do you mind if I crash here for the night?"

"I'd have to make sure it's all clear with my dad but yeah, why, what's up?" He asked earnestly.

"DCS came by to take me and John B away, we ran and John B said he'd meet me here." You bit your lip to hold back the tears that were welling from your brain before they come out, the thought of everything happening in your life becoming overwhelming.

JJ took notice, he wrapped his arms around you, you melted into the hug arms wrapping around his waist. "You and John B are gonna alright, you hear me?" He kissed the top of your head, "They're not gonna take you away, I'll fight of every one of those social workers if I have to."

You giggled at his attempt to make you feel better and at the fact that knowing him, he probably would fight off anyone who would try to get to you. It made you feel special.

The moment was paused by a distraught Pope marching towards the two of you, "Guys, they know!"

JJ let you go and walks towards Pope, "All right, chill bro. They don't know shit."

"Topper knows I sunk his boat," He paces around with his hands on his head.

"How do you know they know?" You ask, "Because Rafe and Topper posted outside of Heyward's and mad dogged me."

"Will you calm down and get a grip, man?" JJ tried to pacify Pope but wasn't actually helping, "They don't know shit."

"They have cameras, they could've seen me," Pope asserts. You counter, "There was no power so they couldn't have seen you."

"It's figure eight, they have power!" He protested, "They don't give scholarships to kids who vengefully sink boats, it's not a good look on my transcript."

"Enough with the regret, bro! They caved your face in," JJ stands and points at Pope's temple where the cut was healing. "They hit us, we hit them. It's the law of the jungle."

Here goes JJ with his law of the jungle bullshit again, JJ gives pope instructions, "Now, if any kooks come up to you and ask if you had anything to do with it; you walk up to em' look 'em right in the eye, and... " he waits for Pope to fil in.

"Deny the living shit out of it," Pope answers.

"That's right. Deny, deny, deny" JJ points at the gun he left on top of a tree stub "but just for safety, we don't go anywhere without protection."

"That's if they give him time to explain before jumping him again," You say aloud without thinking.

"Can you not sike him out anymore?" JJ turns to you and gestures to Pope who began to pace, "My bad, it just slipped out. Pope, it's gonna be fine, JJ has the gun so if they try anything we'll be ready." You try to reassure him, which fails because Pope then goes on a rant about minors carrying unconcealed weapons and licenses and such.

"God Poopy, you need to relax." You walk past him calling the boys to follow, reminding them of prior made plans "We gotta meet Kie at the park for the movie."

~~~

"I'm so glad that they're still doing this," Kie says happily as you plod with all your chairs and bags to an empty spot. "Keep calm, carry on, back to OBX life."

If only she knew that the drama has not stopped, "Aren't you guys glad that I made you come?"

"I would be thrilled if I came without people hounding me right now," You look behind your shoulder, hoping not to see Deputy Thomas and Cheryl.

"Ecstatic," Pope speaks sarcastically.

"My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest." JJ claims, "I'd hope so seeing as how I'm sleeping over." You reply.

"You're sleeping over JJ's?" Kie questions, "Since when?"

"Since DCS came to ship me off to the mainland," you scoffed.

"Don't worry Kie, you'll always have a special place in my bed if you want." JJ winks, his comment stung but you said nothing.

"Gross," was all she responded. You set up your stuff in the spot you all chose, you heard Pope and JJ whispering suspiciously.

"We're in the middle of kooklandia, this is the last place I wanted to be," Pope states.

"Both of you," You give them a warning look pinching your index and thumb together zipping pretending to zip your lips to cut them off. "I'm gonna go get drinks," You announced.

Maybe, leaving them with Kie will ease their paranoia a bit. You walk up to the concession stand and order three Pepsis, You hear your name being called from your left. "Hey Y/N," Rafe comes up to you "What's up? How are you?"

You didn't understand why he was acting normal after your last encounter but you played along not wanting to cause a scene.

You look away awkwardly, "I'm fine."

"Good, that's good um, tell your boy that we know what he did."

You feigned your innocence, "What boy are you talking about, Rafe?"

"Oh, you know the one you ended our deal for," He lowered his voice on the last part.

You tightened your lips nodding, "Hm, cool I'll let him know. Is that it?" You grabbed the three cans strategically one in between your thumb, the other between your index and middle tilted so it rests on your palm, and the last drink in your other hand."No, um" He leaned a little closer to whisper "Can we talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about, Rafe" You dismiss turning to walk away.

"Please!" He called out, you continue to walk away flipping him off "Go to hell!"

You hand Pope and JJ their cans, keeping one for yourself since Kie didn't want anything. You take your seat beside JJ keeping your voice low attempting to only let JJ and Pope hear, "They know."

Pope whips his head towards you alarmingly, "What?"

"Rafe cornered me saying 'tell your boy we know what he did, I played stupid." You shrugged, Kie looks at you all confused, "What did he mean by that?"

"Where is he?" JJ asked.

"Right there, but don't look," You said. They did the opposite, JJ and Pope snap their heads to look behind them.

"Great the whole death squad, Ah!" Pope winces when JJ forces Pope's head to the big screen in front of you all. "Don't stare, bro."

"Just warning you bro, if they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay?" You roll your eyes at the notification. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He raises his bag implying the gun that is stowed away in there.

They mutter to themselves comforting words, "You guys are not making this any less suspicious." You tell them, Kie studies you three with her gaze fixed in confusion.

"I'm sorry, JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kiara speaks in a mom's warning tone. "JJ, there are kids."

She had a point, of course, however, the only advantage you would have with these guys was the gun. JJ denies bringing the gun, "No, Kie I didn't bring the gun alright, everything's fine."

"Wow, thank you that's really convincing, I love that JJ." She says sarcastically, "Founding principle you guys, no secrets amongst Pogues. What is Rafe talking about?"

Pope leaned towards Kiara, "Kie, it might go down tonight."

"What does that mean? What did y'all do?"

"It's gonna be fine, y'all are putting out negative energy when we need to be bringing in positive energy." Was your response to the three of them freaking out, Kie shot daggers at you with her eyes. "That did not answer my question," You shushed her, "The movies starting."

~~~

The second film was playing on the big screen, your butt was starting to hurt but the plot was getting good so you didn't want to get up so you shifted your position to sit half sideways in the bendable chairs letting your legs hang over the arm side. "JJ?" You heard Pope whisper.

"What?"

"Gotta take a piss," Pope sounded like a little kid telling his mom that he needed to pee in the middle of a road trip. "I can't hold it, I drank too much soda."

"It's too exposed, they'll totally see us," JJ responded.

"I gotta go," Pope insisted. "They're blocking the bathrooms." JJ peeked over somewhere to the side, "Come here, I know where."

They get up bending over so as not to block the view of the movie, "Stay safe out there guys," You saluted them returning your attention back to the movie.

"Where are they going?" Kie whispered over to you. You took that to your advantage and stole Pope's chair so that other people wouldn't have to hear you whispering over the movie to each other.

"Pope needed to pee."

"What are they gonna do, hold it for each other?" You chuckled at her joke.

"Imagine, think there's something they're not telling us." You checked over your shoulder to find Rafe, Topper, and Kelce no longer in their original position, their chairs empty.

"Uh oh."

"What uh oh?" Kie glanced at you alarming you.

"Kooks are gone," Your nerves strike in your veins. You were all in public with at least a hundred witnesses but knowing Rafe, Topper, and Kelce that would not stop them.

"We gotta go," Kie voices. You nod, "Yeah.

Once you and Kie were out of sight you run up behind the projector screen where you heard the boys all fighting. "Let go of him Topper, you fascist asshole!" Kie yells out, hitting him with the bag that has the gun.

You run over where Kelce is holding JJ while Rafe is delivering blow after blow, "Rafe that's enough!" You attempt to yank Rafe away from JJ by holding the arm he was going to use to punch JJ. He uses that arm to shove you to the ground, Kie jumped on Topper and Rafe goes to take her off him, since you were still on the ground you extend your leg out to trip him. He stumbles a little but recovers, you get up but he's already carrying Kie and tossing her to the ground.

You focus your attention on where Kelce is choking JJ, putting your hands on Kelces forearms using your strength to get him to loosen "Kelce, stop!"

Rafe picks you up and over his shoulder walking a little ways away from the fight then sets you down pushing you against a tree, "Stay out of this, Y/N!"

While he runs back to the fight, you run over to the bag where Kie's looking for something in the small pockets, You go for the gun in the big one. You had it in hand, ready to use it if you had to.

"Y/N, no!" She protests.

"I have to!" You turn the safety off cocking the gun to get the bullet in the chamber when the projector screen gets set on fire.

You set the safety back on quickly tossing it aside, yelling at Kelce who still has his arm around JJ. "Kelce, Get off of him!"

Kelce does as told once noticing the screen was on fire, going to where Rafe and Topper are walking away. You check up on JJ, you put your hands on JJ's shoulders forcing him to look at you. "JJ, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He glances at the screen, "We gotta get out of here."

Pope and Kie walk ahead, JJ rests his arm across your shoulders as you walk to where Kie parked.

She pulls up in front of JJ's house with Pope in the passenger seat, "Are you sure you don't want to sleep over at my house?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay here, left my stuff here plus gotta make sure this one's alright." You gesture to JJ who went inside to scope out if his dad was inside. Your excuses weren't solid but Kie wasn't gonna argue.

She makes sure you get inside before leaving. JJ told you his dad wasn't home and that he probably wouldn't be until mid-afternoon the next day but you and JJ already made plans with Kie and Pope to go to Heywards before then anyway so you'd be in the clear.

You each took turns showering, you packed night clothes and an extra pair of clothes for tomorrow.

You felt relieved to be clean after a long day, JJ was sitting on his bed, legs crossed waiting for you with his red cap over his eyes it looked like he was sleeping.

You jumped on the other side of his bed, startling him, "Tired already? our slumber party just started!"

"Scare me like that again and your sleeping on the couch, young lady" He jokingly pointed at you with a stern expression. You fake pouted, "Just because you got beat up doesn't mean you have to be grouchy."

"Oh, I'm so sorry princess, how can I make it up to you?"He was a breath away, neither of you noticed how close you had gotten. You didn't want it to be awkward so you changed the subject.

"You okay, with what happened earlier?"

"Those fucking kooks, man." He huffed, "And they like to blame everything on us like they weren't the ones start shit."

"Yike, sorry to bring it up," You grimaced. "I just feel like their parents didn't raise them right..."

"I don't understand how even after everything, you still defend them." He argues.

"I'm not defending them, I'm right when I say that they're just big angry products of their parent's expectations. If we were born kooks we'd probably act the same way." You justify your point of view from your past feelings about kooks with your new mixed ones from the information Rafe expressed to you.

"Not true, just look at Kie." He mentions your passionate friend who didn't want anything to do with kook life.

"Kie is a special case," You sniggered. You pretended to just be aware of the sleeping arrangements, "So, am I actually sleeping on the couch"

He cleared his throat, "Nah, I'm taking the couch and you're taking my bed."

"Wow, JJ the gentleman," You fake your shock. "If I remember correctly you were asking Kie to be in bed with you."

"That was a joke, and you're different." He spoke seriously, you felt like the joke you made in slight jealousy, you made the mood awkward. Exactly, what you didn't want to do but now you were curious.

"How?"

"You just are," He raked a hand through his hair.

"Is it because I'm John B's sister, is that it?"  You pushed. You didn't know why or what you were asking, Did you want to know why he never felt the same way? Did you want to know why you were different than Kiara? Why everything was you did was different with him.

"No, maybe," He paused to think. You pulled him out of his thoughts, "It wouldn't make sense if it is. You're always, well, you. I wouldn't be able to tell the difference if it was right in front of me."

He barked out a laugh as if that couldn't be any truer, "That much is obvious."

It became silent for a minute, then he asked, "Speaking of, Where's John B?"

"I don't know, I'm worried about him," You said honestly. "He said he was going to meet me here, but clearly that didn't happen."

The weight in your chest suddenly felt heavier, you didn't forget about your brother but with so much happening you got distracted. Where were you gonna go from here? You couldn't run forever, eventually, DCS will find you. This island wasn't big.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"The same shit, it's been one thing after the other and I don't know how much I can take before it becomes too much."

"Don't go down that hole, Y/N, you're supposed to be the one to say fuck it." He tried to make to you feel better, "You always said fuck life, and you're gonna be the one to control your life, not let it control you. Don't forget about that version of yourself cause then your just gonna end up like me and we both don't want that to happen."

He pulls you closer, you rest your head on his shoulder curling into him. "I meant what I said earlier, they're not going to take you away, I'm gonna let that happen."

You stayed holding each other for a good couple of minutes in comfortable silence before JJ pulled away, "I should be going to my bed for the night."

He slides out of the bed going for the door, before he could step out the door you call out to him. "Wait, Can you- can you stay?"

He walks back in, climbing into the covers with you. "Whatever you want, pretty girl."

~~~

Early the next morning JJ drives you on his motorcycle to Heywards, you bring your bookbag to do some shopping for things you needed at the house.

"Don't even think about it bro, there were three of them and two of us," JJ tells Pope who was expressing how he felt about being beat by Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. "That's typical kook shit right there."

"Hell yeah," Kie agrees.

"What was your thought process, using your head?" JJ continues to ask since Pope was the one to throw the first punch.

"I don't know man, I just kind of acted off instinct." He defended, "I was a cornered animal."

"Right, cause fighting has always been your style, Pope." You commented.

Heyward walked into the store with Shoupe behind him, "Hey Pope, someone here to see you."

"Evening officer," Pope greets.

"I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property," He strides over to Pope. You, JJ, and Pope look at each other knowing exactly why this was happening, the one thing you all didn't want to happen. "Hands where I can see them."

"Young lady out of my way," Shoupe directs at you. Heyward protests asking what he did. The store becomes chaotic with all your questions.

"Take a look at the warrant," Was all he responded with. He states Popes Miranda rights, you're all arguing with the deputy as he puts handcuffs on Pope walking him out. You couldn't imagine how Pope could be feeling right now, you knew he would be thinking of his scholarship and his future. The yelling follows outside where the cop car is waiting to take your friend away.

"It wasn't him!" You turn to look at JJ wide-eyed, "It was me, he tried to talk me out of it," JJ walks forward. "But I was just mad because he'd just been beaten up, I was so sick of those assholes from figure eight that I just lost my shit."

He set his story up perfectly to take the fall, Pope stares at him, " I can't let you take the fall for something I did, you got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope asks.

"For once in my goddamn life, i'm gonna tell the truth." Shoupe looks between JJ and Pope skeptically. "I took his old man's boat too," Pope continues to object. "Just shut up, Pope! Just shut up. He's a good kid, you know where I'm from. This was all me."

"That's the whole truth?" Shoupe verifies. He's looking at Pope so he doesn't see you shake your head.

Pope and JJ are in a short staring match, that JJ won, Pope replies to the deputy, "Yeah, that about covers it."

He threw you one last glance before stepping into the cop car.

Tag List: @deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @siresweeney - @simpingbutch - @obx-pogues-4-life - @mitchloveswriting - @p-prettybitch -@mischiefdz - @quillsandtyposx - @ellallheart - @shay-https - @namacissi - @lyn07 - @caseysalvatore - @mysticmolina - @dangerdolns - @inkandpen22 - @beebeerockknot

(if your name is crossed that means tumblr won't let me tag you)

[im-only-joking]

Do Not Disturb on the Hotel Door Part 1

This fic has been a LONNNNNGGG time coming, based off this edit that @bbbarzal made that I am in love with and have watched probably a thousand times at this point. I mean... can’t go wrong with 2 pretty best friends, right?

https://bbbarzal.tumblr.com/post/650623516756131841/introducing-two-pretty-bestfriends

Warnings: Threesome; mentions of sex in this chapter, but no actual full smut yet; not really infidelity, but like mentions of looking at someone who is not their partner; non-negotiated kinks. ummm think that’s it, but I tried to make it so that it was clear that everything was clear-headed and consensual!

Anthony Beauvillier x Mat Barzal x Reader

Mat’s birthday fell at the perfect time to also celebrate the series win against the Penguins, meaning an even larger affair, more drinks, buttons on carefully pressed shirts being undone to bare muscled chests and dresses’ hemlines were barely covering anything.

 And while your boyfriend was passed around-as the birthday boy was due to be- your eyes wandered a bit in search of conversation.

 Conversation fell into your lap happily, as a drunken Beau tipped onto the couch you were perched on.

 While you talked, you noticed your eyes lingering on his exposed chest, his soft linen green shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, his biceps flexing the material of the rolled sleeves.

 Sydney Martin’s hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and you gratefully accepted another drink from her, but nursed it slowly throughout the rest of the night. Clearly, it was just the alcohol in your veins making you think… things, about Beau. You weren’t a cheater, and you loved Mat more than anything. It was okay to look.

 He was your boyfriend’s best friend though. Looking, even innocently, at him was like high treason, right?

 You deliberated guiltily all evening over if you had been flirty in your conversation with Beau, whether you had been leading him on in any way. You reasoned that he had to know that you were tipsy and didn’t mean it because you were with Mat, but half your brain was telling you WHORE.

 “You’ve been really quiet tonight,” Mat observed, startling you out of another guilty thought-spiral.

 You teased, “I’ve just been trying to let you have your spotlight.”

 Mat chuckled, gathering you in his arms, half undressed. “Always willing to share as long as it’s with you.”

 “Cheesy,” you smiled, nose scrunching as you let him kiss your forehead.

 “Maybe.”

  As soon as you got in the door of your apartment Mat was on you, sucking marks on your neck, hands flying to grip your waist, pull you as close to him as possible.

 “You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mat rasped, playoff beard scratching against your collarbone as he bit down, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your hands tugging his locks.

 “Daddy,” you whined, earning yourself Mat’s harsh grip on your chin.

 “Use your words, baby,” Mat ordered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

 “I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy,” you whimpered.

“Then you’ll need to wait, we have a guest coming.”

 Your brows gathered, confusion taking over your face, making Mat rumble out a laugh.

 “You really think I didn’t catch you looking at my best friend? If you’re so interested in him, why shouldn’t I let him have a little fun with you? Share how good my girl can be when she wants to,” Mat smirked, tucking a hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “You think you can be on your best behavior for him?”

 You shuddered with want, “Yes Daddy.”

 “Atta girl,” Mat murmured, his hand possessive on the back of your neck as a knock on the door startled you.

 “Why don’t you get naked and greet him,” Mat suggested, though his tone made it clear you weren’t to argue unless you were truly uncomfortable with it.

 You gulped, nodded, and stripped to your panties, which were black lace, specifically picked out by Mat for you to wear for his birthday. He nodded, ushering you towards the door as another knock on the door beckoned you towards it.

 You opened the door to see Beau as he had been dressed earlier, his blue eyes darkening as he took in your figure.

 “What a warm welcome, chérie,” Beau hummed, fingers dancing over the lace at your waistline.

 “Mat surprised me with this,” you mentioned, ducking your head a little. “I didn’t realize I’d been caught looking.”

 Beau laughed gently, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Clearly, it isn’t a big deal, and it looks like Mat isn’t going to mind if you did more than look.”

 You breathed out a giggle, hands finding Beau’s and you pulled him into the apartment to find that Mat wasn’t there.

 “He’s in the kitchen, I can hear him,” Beau nodded to the archway that led to your kitchen, where the light was, in fact, on.

 Beau sat on the couch, tugging you onto his lap with a squeal, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize you as you straddled his thighs. His hands explored your skin, running over your lace-covered breasts as you settled into his lap more, rolling your hips gently.

 “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” Beau sniggered, hands sliding to your ass to give it a squeeze, rocking his hips up to meet yours in a dirty swivel. When you didn’t answer, one hand came up to your face to smack your cheek gently. “Mat said you were gonna be good for me. I’d like to hear an answer, doll.”

 “Sorry, sir,” you gasped, rolling your hips down hard to hear Beau groan. “I like being naughty for Mat… and you. I’d like to blow you if you’d let me.”

 Mat emerged from the kitchen then, a couple of bottles of water in hand, which he set on the table next to the couch.

 “Thought I’d let you two get comfortable. I told Beau a bit about what you like to give him some ideas, but I know you’ll ask for what you want anyway,” Mat said, hand on your neck to tilt your face up to his for a kiss. You could feel Beau’s gaze on the both of you as you let Mat claim your mouth.

 “She asked to blow me,” Beau stated, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Mat settled beside him, smirking.

 “Well, give us a show then, darling,” he commanded, and you slipped off Beau’s lap to get on your knees in front of him, your mouth already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth.

  You groaned as sunlight woke you, streaming into the room through the cracks in the blinds, and you tried to sort out what was reality. What you realized was your legs and Mat’s were interlocked, your panties and even your sleep shorts were soaked through from your dream, and your hips were still rocking gently against Mat’s thigh.

 “Well, good morning,” Mat grinned, clearly having woken up before you, and amused by the situation. “Sweet dreams, I guess?”

 “Jesus,” you groaned, your head thumping back onto the pillow as you detached yourself from Mat’s leg.

 “I wasn’t complaining, rather the opposite,” Mat laughed, ruffling your bedhead. “Just curious to know what got you so in the mood so I can recreate it.”

 You froze, guilty again, as you remembered everything about the dream. “Well… it was pretty much like any of the times we get really frisky, you know. Like, you got all… commanding and sexy and stuff.”

 Mat’s brow quirked, “That normally has a pretty good effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before… not from a dream, anyway.”

You bit your lip anxiously.

 Mat frowned. “Is there… a new thing you want to explore?”

 You took a breath, steadying yourself, and sat up.

 “No, not really.”

[tsukishumai]

Your First Fight - Akaashi, Kenma, Oikawa, Kageyama (Setter Squad)

A/N - This was for anon, I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what the heck happened to this post >-< but it’s back, and I fixed the links on the other posts as well!

Ace Edition

Word Count: 2.8k T-T 

I may or may not have gotten carried away with this one  (✿◠‿◠) Buckle up, and I hope u enjoy!  ( ˘ ³˘)

AKAASHI –

You understand why Akaashi wanted to keep your relationship secret. Really, you did. You could already imagine the barrage of overbearing comments, and the teasing that was sure to be a distraction during practice. With Nationals just around the corner, this was the last thing you both needed.

Being the manager of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club, you know better than most just how rowdy the group could actually be. Bokuto may be the loudest one of the bunch, but all the others can be just as provoking.

And to be honest, the sneaking around was kind of hot. You can’t deny you got butterflies every time Akaashi would pull you into the equipment room for a quick make out session, or when he would give your thigh a secret squeeze under the lunch table surrounded by your friends.

But it’s been months now, and frankly, you were kind of getting tired of it. Sure, it may be slightly more convenient for the both of you, but some days you just want to hold your boyfriend’s hand down the hall without having to look over your shoulder.

You’ve only brought it up to Akaashi once before, but he brushed it off by saying it wasn’t the right time, and you were discouraged to try ever since.

You really weren’t planning to bring it up at the Tokyo Representative Playoffs… you really didn’t. But Konoha’s girlfriend showed up to cheer him on, looking so happy and proud in the stands, you couldn’t fight the tinge of envy that started to take over your body.

Akaashi was observant, and he knew you better than anyone. He could see you stealing glances into the stands, could see the tension in your shoulders whenever Konoha’s girlfriend yelled out cheers for him.

He couldn’t stop himself from following you after you told Yukie you were just going to the restroom.

“No good luck kiss?” he called out once the both of you were a safe distance from the team.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to see,” you said bitterly, not stopping for Akaashi.

Akaashi frowned. “Y/N, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, why else wouldn’t you want to tell anyone about us?” you asked, you finally stopped walking, turning around to give him a hard look.

Akaashi groaned in frustration. “Do we really have to talk about this right here? Right now? I told you, it’s just easier this way.”

You scoffed, and Akaashi hated the sound. “Sorry our relationship is such an inconvenience for you.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, quickly entering the women’s bathroom, faintly hearing the sound of Bokuto calling your boyfriend’s name behind you.

Akaashi didn’t blame you for the loss against Itachiyama, but he definitely blamed himself.

“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked Bokuto after the game, but the ace just shrugged, too upset about the loss to really care. The whole team had all gathered their things, ready to make their way out of the gym and you still were nowhere to be found.

Akaashi’s worries were relieved, but quickly replaced with new ones when Bokuto spotted you down the hall, cornered by someone wearing a Nohebi uniform.

“So tell me, do you have you a boyfriend?” Akaashi heard him ask, and you finally noticed the team approach you. The evil gleam in your eye didn’t escape Akaashi’s attention.

“No, actually. I don’t.”

It was one thing for you to deny it to your teammates, but to other men? Akaashi shouldn’t be mad that those were the words that came out of your mouth; it was his own fault for putting you in the situation in the first place. He knows you’re just doing what he told you to.

But he was furious, and there was nothing that could have stopped him from grabbing you by the elbow, turning you away from the dirty little snake that dared to talk to you, and crashing his lips onto yours.

You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting from Akaashi, but it definitely wasn’t this. Though, you weren’t complaining, returning his kiss with equal fervor, ignoring the uncomfortable cough from the Nohebi player, and the gasps and shocked exclamations from your teammates.

All you could focus on when he pulled away was Akaashi, blue eyes staring straight into your soul, the next words tumbling out of his mouth was all you’ve wanted to hear for months.

“You’re mine. I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

KENMA –

You’ve been sitting in the same spot on Kenma’s bed for about an hour now. The room was filled with only the sounds emanating from the TV, and your boyfriend’s fingers tapping on the buttons of his controller.

Kenma always did like falling into a hole whenever he bought a new game; you’ve known this about him since you were kids. It wasn’t something you ever really minded, nor did you think it was something you wanted to change. It was a part of him that you simply accepted.

Normally, you were content with reading a book while he played, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, getting lost in different worlds. You both respected each other’s hobbies, and the fact that you could do them together in the same room worked out so perfectly.

However, you finished your book faster than you anticipated, and in your shortsightedness, you failed to bring with you a second book. You tried to read webtoons online, but the light from your phone began to strain your eyes.

“Kenma,” you whined as boredom got the best of you, and the blonde boy didn’t bother to respond, “I’m hungry. Can’t we get something to eat?”

“After,” he grunted, though there were no specifications to when ‘After’ would be.

You sighed, getting up from your spot on the bed to tinker with his things. You walk around his room, running your fingers along the books lined on his shelf, picking up frames that contained happy memories of his life.

You hear your phone ding, signaling a message and you turned to make your way back to the bed.

“Hey!” Kenma exclaimed suddenly, making you jump, “Could you not walk in front of the TV? I just died because of you!”

You stared at him in shock for a second. You had never heard him raise his voice before “Excuse me? So what, it’s just a stupid game.”

“It’s not a stupid game,” Kenma grumbled, his voice back to his usual soft tone, but still held a slight tinge of anger. “You know I’ve been waiting for this to be released. Can’t you just read your book and be quiet like you usually do?”

Kenma immediately knew those were the wrong words to say, regretting the way you face turned into a pout. He watched you begin to gather your things, a slight panic rising in his chest when he realizes you’re trying to leave. “You know what, let me just leave you alone, since clearly my company isn’t wanted –“

You were cut off by Kenma getting up from his spot, opening the bottom drawer of his TV stand to rummage through it. You eyed him curiously until he finally found what he was looking for; pulling out another controller that he connected to the gaming console.

He quietly took your hand, pulling you down to sit on the floor with him. You sat cross legged and confused, wondering what he was doing until he handed you the controller. You stared at it in your lap, a small smile spreading on your face at his silent apology.

He started the game on easy mode, giving you a quick rundown on the basic controls.

“I’ll order us some pizza,” he said quietly, making you give him a soft peck on the cheek.

“Pizza sounds good.”

OIKAWA –

The booming sound of Oikawa’s serves was something that will never cease to amaze you.

Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile your Oikawa Toru – the one that hides behind your hair during scary movies, and asks you to kill the spiders for him – with Aoba Johsai’s Oikawa Toru. To you, they were just two completely different people.

But when you were watching him practice like this, raw power coming from his usually gentle hands, you can’t help but stare at him in awe.

You don’t usually stay this late to watch him practice; on a normal day, your club activities would end at the same time and Oikawa would walk you home, but on days like today where he felt he needed the extra practice, you left him in the care of Iwaizumi.

You were a little surprised, however, when you found Iwaizumi waiting for you at your club room, claiming he really needed to get his part of his group project done by tonight, and if you could please stay and make sure your boyfriend doesn’t kill himself.

How could you say no?

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times Oikawa practiced his serve, the repetitive sound of the balls bouncing and his grunting becoming a sort of hypnotic rhythm for you. Before you knew it, the sun had BEEN down, and the moon had taken its place in the night sky.

You begin to notice the telltale signs of exhaustion, Oikawa struggling to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down, his form beginning to look sloppy.

“Alright,” you say, jumping down from your spot on the bench, “It’s time to go home.”

“One more.”

“Tsk,” you clicked your tongue, walking around collecting the balls, “It’s been hours, Toru. Rest is also a part of training, you know.”

He ignored you, grabbing another ball from the cart, but you just started taking down the volleyball net.

“What the hell are you doing? I said one more!” “And I said it’s time to go home!”

The ear-splitting sound of the volleyball slamming the floor cut through the gym, leaving you frozen in place. “You wouldn’t understand! You may be satisfied with doing the bare minimum for your practices, but my serves have to be perfect! I have to be perfect!” Oikawa’s voice echoed, glaring at you with red eyes, frustration evident on his face.

You didn’t say anything. You stared at him for a moment, then turned around and began the process of closing the gym. Oikawa also chose to stay silent, brown eyes trained on the floor as he gathered his belongings, silently following you once you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The walk home was quiet; the lack of a reaction on your part weighing more heavily on Oikawa than he expected. He snuck a glance at you, but you kept your head forward, steel faced and neutral.

Each step he took was more agonizing than the last, knowing he shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. Your house was beginning to come into view, and he couldn’t leave the night like this.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and your sharp inhale let him know that you heard him.

“I know.”

“I’m exhausted...” and you know he wasn’t just talking about volleyball.

You finally faced him, and gently grabbed his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders as you snaked an arm around his middle. He felt all the tension his body melt away, half expecting to find it puddled around his feet.

“I know,” you said, “But if you ever talk to me like that again, you’re getting a flying fist to the face.”

Oikawa laughed, drawing one out from your own mouth. He placed a kiss on your temple, and gave you full permission to cut his head off if he ever lashed out at you again. He always appreciated how he never had to tell you anything… you always just knew.

KAGEYAMA –

Kageyama had a pretty good weekend, if you asked him.

He woke up early on Saturday morning to go for a run, then got home and had pork curry for lunch. He figures it’s been a while since he’s brushed up on his basic skills, so he went to the local gym and practiced some drills. On Sunday, he was dragged by Hinata to a study group with Yachi, and admittedly gotten more homework done there than he would have on his own.

It was a nice, productive weekend. He entered his Monday with this positive vibe following him around, even morning practice went by smoothly.

He went about his usual routine of waiting for you by the school gates so he could walk you to class. He only waited about ten minutes until you came into view, and Kageyama subconsciously straightened his posture. He tried to push down the little tickle at the pit of his belly when you made eye contact, not wanting to admit he was excited to see you.

“Good morning,” he said as soon as you approached, but his entire mood completely shifted downward when you simply walked passed him.

Where was his usual ‘Good morning, Tobio-kun!’? Why didn’t you stop to give him his morning peck on the cheek? Why didn’t you let him carry your bag for you on the way to class?

Did he do something wrong?

He was so confused, questions running through his head as he simply trailed after you silently.

“Is everything alright?” He tried to ask once you reached your class, but you just gave him a stern look, turning away from him to enter your classroom and take your seat. He was left there looking like an idiot.

He couldn’t focus in class, trying to wrack his brain on why you could possibly be upset. Did he forget an anniversary? Doubtful, you’ve only just started dating. Were you on your period? Kageyama shook his head. Even he knew that would literally be the worst question to ask.

The bell rang to signal the start of lunch, and Kageyama hurriedly gathered his things so he can go find you.

He didn’t have to look very far, though, because when he exited his classroom, he spotted you down the hall.

The second you saw him, you marched your way over; the dark aura you were giving off had made everyone steer clear of you.

Kageyama gulped, wanting to run away before he remembered that he also wanted to talk to you.

“Y/N –“ “You know, I was going to ignore you the whole day, but seeing you this morning just really pissed me off, and unlike you, I actually can’t stand not talking to you.”

Kageyama blinked, happy to hear your voice, but confused at the words you were saying. “Unlike me? What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “Where the hell were you all weekend?”

Again, Kageyama blinked stupidly. “What do you mean? I was home.”

This seemed like the wrong answer, because now your hands moved to your hips, and for some reason, you were ten times more intimidating like that. “So? You never thought to shoot me a text? Or give me a call?”

“Was I supposed to?” Kageyama asked, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you face palm.

“Did you not want to?” You asked, though there was no hurt behind the question.

“I did.” “So why didn’t you?”

Kageyama thought about it for a moment. “I went to the gym instead.”

You let out a groan of frustration. Honestly, you should have known. It took you three tries before Kageyama even realized you were confessing to him. It took him even longer to realize that he actually had to tell you he liked you back, and that you had no idea that him buying you yogurt meant he was asking you out.

“Tobio-kun,” you said patiently, “If you’re thinking of me, you should text me or call me to let me know.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Even if I have nothing interesting to say?”

You nodded, looping your arm through his and starting your walk to the cafeteria. “Even then. I just want to hear from you.”

Kageyama nodded his head in understanding. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

Your phone never stopped blowing up after that conversation. RIP your notifications.

[miracleonice87]

Begin Again, part two

with Mathew Barzal

a/n: in honor of @kerwritesthings’ birthday (that’s right, go wish her a happy one if you haven’t already!)… Hayden and Mat are back! part one was one of the earlier pieces I wrote, and it was a combo of a reader/oc, which I don’t really like to use in my writing now, but I’m sticking with it for consistency’s sake. title is based on T Swift's song, which I obviously don't own and all that stuff.

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, nothing graphic

word count: 5.3K+

_____

“Hayden!” you heard from across the Coliseum concourse, just moments after you’d stepped through the doors of the main entrance. A stunning platinum blonde with a dazzling smile quickly approached, waving excitedly. Your first instinct was to look over your shoulder to try and determine who the woman was speaking to, since you didn’t recognize her, but she had called your name.

Instead, you forced a small smile and tentatively stepped toward her. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she gathered you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she exclaimed, then stepped back and fanned a hand across her chest. You couldn’t help but notice the rock on her left ring finger, not to mention her perfectly manicured nails and pristine blue silk Islanders jacket, paired with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and snakeskin boots. “I’m Sydney, but you can call me Syd. It’s Sydney Esiason Martin, actually. I’m Matt Martin’s wife, but all the guys just call him Marty,” she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly all the while.

It was all coming together in your brain now, that Mat must have arranged for Sydney to be on the lookout for you, and you nodded slowly, your smile growing.

“I’m Hayden,” you offered, but of course, she already knew that, you thought as you mentally kicked yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Marty, too.”

Sydney beamed, her eyes glittering. “Yeah, you, too!” she said. “It isn’t often Barzy brings a girl around the group. Well, honestly… it isn’t ever, actually,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “You must be pretty special.”

You breathed a chuckle and swiped your tongue along your bottom lip, lost for words.

Sydney must have sensed your unease, because after a beat, she gave your upper arm a light squeeze and nodded her head toward the escalators leading to the suite level.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya where we’re sitting,” she said. “I’m starving. I think I want a pretzel with cheese. Are you hungry? They have the most incredible nachos up there, just wait…”

And as Sydney rambled on about the delicacies to be found in the family suite, your anxieties about meeting the people there suddenly shrunk, and you found yourself thinking that you were going to like this “Syd.”

_____

The game was a blowout.

New York beat Ottawa 6-1, and Mat had a goal and three assists, not to mention the night’s second star. You had held your own in the family box, and Sydney had been the perfect guide — introducing you to the kindest of the guys’ partners and avoiding the ones that side-eyed you standoffishly, whispering in your ear that so-and-so had dated two NHLers in the past, and so-and-so and her boyfriend were constantly on and off, and that Syd didn’t expect them to be around for long, so don’t worry about them. You mostly spent the evening nodding along politely to various conversations, giggling at Sydney’s over-the-top antics, and making small talk with some of the veterans’ wives. They all seemed relieved to know that you were familiar with the hockey world and, therefore, had at least a hint of what you were (potentially) getting yourself into.

But one thing you hadn’t expected? When Syd turned to you a few minutes after the game ended and said, “Oh! Matt just texted me. He said Barzy wants me to bring you downstairs.”

You swallowed your last sip of beer, hard.

“Downstairs?” you asked softly after a long pause.

“Uh huh!” Sydney nodded emphatically, tucking her phone into her Louis Vuitton bag and patting your knee. “He probably wants to introduce you to some of the boys. Don’t worry,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, doing her best to calm your nerves.

You nodded slowly and reached for your own, much less expensive, bag. “O-okay.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the depths of the Coliseum in a lounge across from the locker room, Sydney chatting away about how when playoffs start, you’ll have to join her and the other girls for tailgating in the parking lot before the game, because it’s such a blast, and it’s a lot easier to watch your significant other knock the shit out of someone (or get the shit knocked out of him) when you’re tipsy. You stayed noncommittal, all the while questioning in your mind whether Mat would even want you around once playoffs started.

But you didn’t have long to dwell on that, because a moment later, the locker room door swung open, and two tall, broad, light brown-haired men stepped through it, Mat close on their heels. You could have sworn you heard him sharply whisper “please don’t embarrass me” before they crossed the hallway, but then again, maybe that was just in your head, because immediately after, Mat gave you a huge smile and stepped forward to pull you in for a hug.

“Hey!” he greeted warmly, then completely caught you off guard by pecking your lips, right there in front of half a dozen of his teammates and their partners.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, feeling them buzzing at the unexpected contact. You recovered as quickly as you could and smiled back at him, lost in the way he looked in his sharp grey suit and in how he smelled fresh out of the shower.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

And just as you studied Mat’s appearance, he was studying yours — taking in your royal blue blazer, the way your light-wash jeans hugged your curves perfectly, and, of course, admiring the Manolo Blahniks you’d scrimped and saved for two years to purchase.

“Nice shoes,” Mat commented, winking flirtatiously. You giggled, his words echoing the very first he had ever spoken to you back in the coffee shop. “Seriously, though, you look beautiful, Hayden,” he added.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you glanced down at your feet.

“Thanks, Maty,” you said quietly. “You look great, too.”

With an appreciative nod, he pressed his hand to your lower back and guided you nearer to the men accompanying him, who had already greeted their significant others — Syd kissing Matt, and Grace, you remembered, hugging her husband, whose name you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, Hayd, you know Syd and Grace now, but I want to introduce you to their husbands, Marty and Anders,” Mat said, motioning toward them. “Anders is our captain, and Marty’s like my team dad.”

You giggled at that, glancing up at Mat fondly before focusing back on his teammates and extending your arm.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands.

“You, too,” Anders said. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Yeah, Barzy won’t shut up about you, and now we see what all the fuss is about,” Marty said, laughing at his own joke as Sydney poked him in the ribs playfully.

“What’s this about Barzy not shutting up?” you heard from behind the wall of well-dressed men in front of you, before an icy blue-eyed man stepped forward. Mat rolled his eyes.

“And this is Tito,” Mat said, waving his arm toward the man you knew to be his close friend. “Don’t let him fool you — he doesn’t ever shut up, either.”

Tito smirked at that and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hayden,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to come back — you must’ve been our good luck charm tonight.”

You shook your head shyly. “No, no, I can’t take the credit,” you insisted. “That was all you guys. But yes, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Tito.”

Tito smiled, looking between you and Mat, and before Tito could offer a response, Mat spoke into your ear.

“I got us a reservation at this place nearby,” he said, his low tone making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t wanna rush you, but we should probably get going. Besides, hopefully this is far from the last opportunity you’ll have to hear my friends chirp me.”

You smiled up at Mat, admiring the way his still-damp hair fell perfectly around his sculpted face, and nodded.

“Sure, let’s go,” you told him.

_____

“Okay, favoriiite... NFL team.”

“Seahawks," Mat answered. "Since Seattle’s not far from Coquitlam, you know?”

You nodded. “Plus Russell Wilson and Ciara are everything.”

“Everything,” he agreed dramatically, knocking his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “What about you?”

“Oh, Pats all the way,” you proclaimed, sitting back in your chair. “The day Brady signed with the Bucs was top five worst days of my life,” you added emphatically.

Mat clucked his tongue. “Awww, poor baby,” he said teasingly, throwing you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, your turn. Next question,” you said, reaching across the table for his hand, tracing the veins there with your fingertips as Mat beamed at you, unable to think immediately of another inquiry as he was too distracted by your soothing touch.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, uh,” he began. “How about... oh, what was your favorite movie as a kid?”

A faraway smile spread slowly across your lips as you looked just past Mat, recalling laying on the floor of your den back in Maine, Nick by your side as you watched the same VHS tape over and over again.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” you started, shaking your head. “But, uh, it was called Brave Little Toaster.”

Mat stilled.

“Shut up,” he deadpanned.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled. “What?”

Mat chuckled in disbelief. “Brave Little Toaster was my favorite movie as a kid.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re lying,” you accused.

Mat put up his hands in innocence.

“Swear!” he insisted. “You can call my sister right now. We watched it every day for years.”

You could only grin stupidly. “Us, too,” you told him. “Sequels weren’t that good, though,” you added, taking a sip of your wine.

Mat nodded, looking pleased with that assessment, and thought not for the first time that night about how easy this all felt with you. How right. From the simplest thing to the most important.

“No, no, they were trash,” he laughed. “Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars, and, uh... shit, what was the other one… uh, Brave Little Toaster…”

“To The Rescue,” you finished, Mat echoing the last word before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

“I cannot believe we have this much in common, Maty,” you said when you finally caught your breath.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, right?” Mat said. You nodded as he reached for his gin and tonic. “Feels like I’ve met my other half,” he said.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your shy smile, dropping your gaze to your lap. From across the table, Mat squeezed your hand. Then, a voice piped up from behind you.

“I hate to interrupt…”

You turned in your seat to find the maître d' leaning toward you, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“We’re going to be closing, so I just wanted to ask—”

“Oh, god, did we close the place down?!” you asked apprehensively, glancing around the room to discover that, indeed, you and Mat were the last two in the room.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mat said, flustered. “I didn't even realize. We’ll get out of your hair. I’m so sorry, sir. Really.”

The man shook his head in understanding and left the table as the waiter approached with the bill.

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. You couldn’t even fathom how much two steak dinners and drinks for the both of you would cost at a place like this. You felt guilty for agreeing to come here instead of suggesting something less extravagant, and you braced yourself as you waited for Mat to make some noise of disgust at the number on the check, just like you’d been used to at the end of date nights for so long.

But, it never came. Mat simply tucked a few bills into the fold, and looked back up at you with a smile and a contented sigh.

“You ready?” he asked easily.

You nodded. “I’m ready for anything with you.”

Mat jutted out his chin proudly and came around to pull out your chair. With his hand gently resting on the small of your back, he guided you to the valet station in front of the restaurant while you waited for his car to be brought around. All the while, Mat felt his heart thudding against his ribcage as he contemplated his next move.

Unaware of his internal struggle, you turned to him with a smirk as you awaited the car’s arrival, and you slipped your hands into his jacket pockets as you leaned into his chest.

“My hands are cold,” you explained simply, while Mat nodded, thinking that there was no better feeling than you reaching out for him. He only wanted to be near to you, ever, always, which brought him to finally posing his long anticipated inquiry.

“Hey, uh…” Mat began, clearing his throat nervously. “I was thinkin’, maybe you’d wanna come over to my place, like, maybe for the night? Honestly I just… I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can, especially since we’ve got another roadie coming up. And I’d love to just curl up on the couch with you, maybe watch a movie—“

“Yes,” you answered softly, but firmly. You had never been more certain that yes, you wanted to go home with this person. Right now.

Mat was caught off guard by your confident answer, and he smiled down at you in disbelief.

“You sure?” he asked. “There’s no pressure, Hayd. I know this is moving fast and all.”

You nodded. “It is,” you concurred. “But it feels… good. It feels right. And I wanna come home with you, Maty.”

Mat grinned from ear to ear and grasped your face with both his hands, kissing you deeply just as his car pulled up to the curb. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s go then.”

_____

You did spend the night at Mat's that night, and the next night, and the one after that. But the one after that, Mat wasn’t around, and was instead in Raleigh for the first half of a two-game road trip. So, you were surprised when, while you were watching the game, you heard your doorbell ring. Frowning, you jogged to your door and hit the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Miss Parker?”

“This is she.”

“Got a delivery for you. Says it’s from an ‘M. Barzal’?”

You smirked, tucking your chin to your chest.

“I’ll be right down.”

Seconds later, you were bounding down the stairs to meet the delivery person, who stood on your building’s front steps holding a stout bouquet of full, white peonies. You thanked them as you took the bouquet in your hands, staring down at it wistfully as you closed the door behind you. Not bothering to wait until you were back in your apartment to read the note, you pulled the card from the envelope tucked within the bouquet.

Hayd,

Pretty flowers for my pretty girl. Be home soon. Don’t forget about me.

MB

_____

“Baby sis!”

You heard your brother’s booming voice on the other end of the line three days later, sounding a bit distant. By that and the sound of papers shuffling, you knew he had you on speaker at his office. “What’s up, Hayd?”

You smiled at his eternally effervescent tone.

“Hi, Nicky,” you greeted. “Oh, nothing much.” Lie. “Just wanted to give you a call and check in.”

“Aww, I’m flattered,” Nick replied. “But you know that I know you better than anybody else, right? I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something to say. What’s goin’ on? Lay it on me.”

You bit your bottom lip. Damn him. Even all the way from Boston, he could still read you like a book. You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you as you admitted, “Okay, okay. I wanted to tell you that I, uh... I met somebody.”

You could practically hear his eyebrows shoot up over the phone.

“Really?” Nick drawled, lengthening both syllables dramatically. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but still, you beamed.

“Really,” you confirmed. “Somebody you’d, uh... somebody you’d actually probably recognize.”

“What do you mean? You cop yourself an attorney or what?”

“No,” you responded, fussing with the frayed hem of your cropped sweater. “No, not quite—“

“What, a Yankee then?”

Your eyes widened at his surprisingly accurate interruption. He was more on the nose than he knew.

“Well... not a Yankee, but...”

“Shut up,” he cut you off once more. “A Met? A Jet?”

You bit at the skin around your polished plum fingernails before you spat out, “An Islander.”

Silence. Then, a bellow.

“What?!”

That was Nick. Ever the thespian.

“It’s Mat Barzal, Nicky,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Like something out of a goddamn rom-com, I met him in a coffee shop about a month ago, and we’re… we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” You uttered the last words of your statement with an astonished laugh. It still seemed too good to be true just in your own head — telling someone else made you sound certifiably crazy, even to your own ears.

“I- … how... Jesus! What?!” Nick sputtered. “Hayden! What the fuck! Well, ‘m happy for you, but I’m just… I think I’m in shock right now.”

You groaned with a pained chuckle.

“I know. I’ve been in shock this entire time,” you concurred. “But Mat, he’s… he’s amazing. It sounds so cliché, but he’s just such a normal guy. He’s super polite, funny, thoughtful—“

“Plus he’s an absolute man rocket,” Nick added enthusiastically.

You put a hand to your forehead, rolling your eyes once more.

“Spoken like a true former hockey player,” you commented.

Quickly moving on from your remark, Nick asked, “So, when do Annie and I get to meet him? Seen him on the ice for years but I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my baby sis.”

You smiled warmly at his often-used term of endearment and replied, “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the main reason I wanted to talk to you. He plays the B’s next weekend, on Sunday, at the Garden. The game’s at 1, I think, so… uh… he got us tickets — three tickets. He wants me and you and Annie to go to the game and then he wants us all to go out together—“

“Done,” your brother spoke up firmly before you could even finish. You beamed at his confirmation, despite the fact that he had interrupted you for what felt like the hundredth time in your three-minute call.

“Really?” you asked, scrunching your nose tentatively. “I know you guys are really busy, especially with wedding planning and stuff, and I’d totally understand—“

“Hayden, stop,” Nick spoke sternly. “Seriously. It’s no problem. Sundays are good for us. Besides, even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them for this. Meeting my sister’s new boyfriend is a big deal.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, thank you, Nicky. It means a lot. I’ll let Mat know you can make it. He’ll be so excited,” you told your brother happily.

“Awesome,” Nick replied warmly. “So what about Mom and Dad? They haven’t met the kid yet, have they?”

You snorted. “Nicky, you’re only two years older than him,” you pointed out. “You can’t call him a kid.”

“Sure I can!” he insisted. “He’s dating my kid sister — that makes him a kid to me.”

You sighed, amused.

“Whatever. But no, they have not met him yet,” you said. “That’ll happen soon enough, you know? I mean, you know how Dad can be — he can come off as kinda gruff, even though you and I know he’s a teddy bear. And Mom, she’s just gonna fall in love with him, and I’m not ready for that just yet.” You chuckled as you heard Nick offer a hum of understanding on the other end of the phone. “Besides, he has a lot of respect for you, and you guys have a lot in common. I just think it would be great for the two of you to meet first,” you said.

“What do you mean he has a lot of respect for me?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled.

One of your brows quirked of its own accord and a smirk stretched across your lips. You’d unwittingly skipped over the best part — the best part for Nick, anyway.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you asked smugly. “He remembered you. The first day we met, I told him my brother played in the Q, he asked my last name… and immediately, he remembered you.”

You heard Nick suck in a breath. “You can’t tell me shit like this, sis,” he said. “Annie always says my ego is already too big as it is, and you just inflated it even more.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, amused by his declaration.

“Well, that’s facts,” you replied. “He remembered the injury, but most of all, he remembered how good you were. He was really glad to hear you’re doing well now.”

“Marry him, or I will,” Nick deadpanned. You could tell he was trying to use humor to mask any emotions your statement had stirred up.

“Oh, Annie would love to hear you say that,” you scoffed, then you glanced at the clock above you. “Listen, I gotta get to the Coli, but I’ll—“

“Oh, my god, my name is Hayden, and my boyfriend is an Islanderrr! I have to get to the Coli to watch him playyy!” your brother mimicked ruthlessly.

You growled at Nick’s playful mocking of you and spat, “Hey, you want these B’s-Isles tickets next weekend or not?”

Immediately, Nick shaped up.

“Just kidding, my darling baby sister! I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you next weekend,” he said.

“Deal. I’ll call you once Mat and I go over the details and stuff,” you promised.

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to ya then. Hey — one more thing,” Nick said hurriedly.

“What’s that?” you inquired as you swung your handbag over your shoulder and grabbed your jacket from the hook in your entryway.

“Are you happy?” Nick asked, his voice more solemn than it had been throughout your entire conversation — more solemn than it almost ever was. Your lips stretched into a slow grin.

“Honestly, Nicky…” you began, a dreamy sigh leaving you as you paused pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m super happy.”

You could hear Nick smiling as he replied, “Good. I can tell. You deserve it, Hayd.”

“Thanks,” you answered softly. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nick retorted knowingly. You hummed in agreement and he added, “Alright, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, baby sis.”

“I love you, too, brother,” you replied. “Bye.”

You tapped the red button on your screen to end the call and slipped your jacket the rest of the way over your shoulders as you headed for the door. Just as you reached for the knob, your phone dinged with a text alert.

MB 😍: See you after the game, beautiful. Sushi and sleepover at my place tonight? Up to you. Just let me know 😘

You felt your cheeks warm as a smile stretched across your face, grinning like an idiot at your phone as you had every day for the last month — not that you cared. In fact, it was a welcome change from the sighs and eye rolls you used to emit when reading texts from your last significant other. You felt grateful for this new beginning, this flood of long-dormant feelings you didn’t know you’d ever feel again.

Your fingers flew easily across the keyboard as you typed your response: Sounds perfect. Count me in. Good luck, baby 💋

Within seconds, as you pulled the door closed and headed for the parking garage, his reply lit up your screen.

MB 😍: 🥰

Yeah, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

_____

The next weekend after dinner, Nick stood with his arm wrapped around Annie’s shoulders, waving goodbye as he watched you and Mat turn and walk down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant hand in hand. Annie squeezed Nick’s waist as he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Annie asked with a soft smile.

Nick shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Absolutely nothing is the matter. That kid is… I mean, he’s somethin’ else, huh?”

Annie chuckled thoughtfully.

“He really is,” she agreed. “I’ve known your sister since she was a kid, and I’ve never seen her so giddy as she was today with him.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick said, his voice sounding far away. “I feel like… I dunno, I feel like this might be the real thing. I know it sounds crazy to say that already.”

Annie grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s crazy,” she said. “I think they’re really in love.”

Nick breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Who woulda thought? My sister and an Islander. Shit.”

_____

“Don’t freak out,” Mat spoke, an anxious smirk on his face as his eyes glimmered.

“Maty!” you whined. “You’re scaring me. What the hell is it?” you asked, your eyes landing once more on the white box tied with a blue satin ribbon.

“Just open it,” Mat instructed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as you studied him cautiously.

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he was up to, but pulled the ribbon to loosen the bow nonetheless. You pulled the top of the box off and peeled away the tissue paper beneath to reveal a denim jacket, the name “BARZAL” and the number 13 embroidered in blue and orange on the back, along with an Isles logo, a blue heart, and plenty of gemstones.

You silently looked toward Mat, who gazed at you expectantly.

“It’s a WAG jacket,” he explained. “You’ve probably seen some of the girls wear them to games.”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of even a single-word response. You knew what it was. You just couldn’t believe it was yours.

You looked back down to the jacket, then finally back at Mat. He moved from his seat on the couch to sit beside you on the loveseat, taking your hand.

“Listen, I know it’s still really early on, but, I… it just felt like a no brainer to me, Hayd,” he said, his words rushed. “You totally don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to — there’s no pressure. But with the playoffs coming up, Syd asked me if I wanted to have one made for you, and I said I did. I didn’t know if I should clear it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you with it, so I—”

“You… you want me to wear this to games?” you interrupted, your brows furrowed.

Mat’s own face contorted with confusion.

“Y-yeah… yeah, of course I do, baby,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want people to know it.”

You tried to hide your unsureness under a tight smile as you ran your fingers along the decals adorning the jacket, trailing your touch down the seams. You weren’t sure if you would ever get used to being someone that your significant other was proud of and wanted to show off to the world. Past that, you couldn’t believe that Mat had purchased this for you on his own, with no strings attached — just by looking at the custom item, you knew it had been far from cheap. Every day, Mat made you feel like the most special person in the world, and sometimes you weren’t sure why he bothered, or why he’d chosen you when he could have literally anyone else.

But instead of voicing what your insecurities and your past traumas were screaming at you, you simply decided to take Mat at his word — something you’d been working hard on since the start of this relationship. You flashed a million dollar smile and threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Maty,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gently caressing your back. “This means so much to me.”

Mat smiled over your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“It means everything that you wanna wear it,” he told you, pulling back. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

You beamed and glanced back down at the garment.

“You want me to try it on?” you asked excitedly, like a little kid just home from a back-to-school shopping spree.

Mat nodded, smiling. “I would love for you to try it on,” he assured.

You wasted no time pulling the jacket from the box and lifting it up. You put one arm into the first sleeve, and Mat guided the other arm after it. Upon closer inspection, you could see your own name embroidered into the wrist of the left sleeve, along with a date in matching script on the other sleeve.

“What’s this?” you asked, smoothing your finger along the thread as you held out your arm to Mat.

The corners of his lips ticked upward into a smile. “The day we met,” he said simply.

You met his eyes and immediately leaned in, grasping his face in one hand as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his constant thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” you repeated, and Mat only nodded. He took your hands and squeezed.

“Stand up, show me,” he insisted.

You giggled and obliged, doing a little spin with your arms outstretched as Mat laughed.

“Wow, baby, it looks great on you,” he said, in awe. “I absolutely love it. Do you like it?”

You nodded, biting at your bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” you said, smoothing your hands along the fabric. “I’m definitely wearing it to the next game.”

Mathew nodded, pleased to hear your declaration, and crooked his finger, inviting you closer. You stepped forward, rested your knees on the couch on either side of his lap, and looped your arms around his neck. Mathew began to peck at your lips, jaw, and neck playfully.

“You look,” kiss, “so good,” kiss, “with my name,” kiss, “on your back,” kiss, followed by a mischievous squeeze to your butt.

You felt heat rise from your chest, up your neck, to your face, and you leaned back to rid yourself of the jacket and carefully toss it onto the back of the couch, causing Mat to pout his lips.

You shook your head, placing your index finger to his pucker.

“For what I have planned to say thank you, I’m not gonna wanna be wearing anything nice,” you told him, removing your finger to kiss his lips.

Mat raised his eyebrows and hummed his approval.

“How about not wearing anything at all?” he asked, cockiness in his tone as he tugged at your t-shirt. Following his cues, you removed it from your body and tossed it onto the floor.

“Whatever you say, Barzal,” you said, though Mat was too focused on your lacy bra to think of a response.

Instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder as you squealed with laughter, hauling you to the bedroom and leaving the denim jacket to be worn another day.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Ours | Charlie McAvoy

Requested? Nah

Warnings? Nope

Summary: You and Charlie won't let anything get in between the two of you

Word Count: 1,588

Italics means flashback :)

You rock slowly back and forth on your feet, anxiously awaiting for this staff meeting to be over. You slowly make your way over to the gymnasium where the rest of your coworkers sit just as impatiently as you. Your eyes scan the room, deciding on climbing the bleachers to the back before taking a seat.

You didn’t hate the school you worked at, you actually loved it, and loved your students. However, you weren’t extremely fond of your coworkers. You got along with a few of them, consistently trading daily pleasantries back and forth but often didn’t exceed that. You were the youngest staff member with ease, and with that came gossip as it always does.

The minute they found out you were dating the famous hockey player Charlie McAvoy they wouldn’t leave it alone. They wanted to know every detail, wanted to have a say in your relationship, wanted to judge it or take advantage of it.

As you looked around the room you couldn’t help the quiet snicker let out at the vacant stares of your fellow staff.

“He looks like he has elevator music playing in his head,” Charlie whispers making you giggle and press your face into his shoulder.

“He usually acts like he does,” you joke and now Charlie is giggling right along with you.

You both look around the room, pointing at people as they zone out during the fancy dinner and pretend like you know what these people might be talking about. You and Charlie had gotten quite good at making boring and fancy events fun for two young people. You both had millions of dinners and events and meetings you needed entertainment for.

“Darling?” Charlie calls and you look up at him.

“People are staring.”

You ignore him pressing a long kiss to his lips and you feel his smile against yours.

As you sit and smile absentmindedly thinking of the memory, you hear someone call your name. Your face falls before picking back up into a fake smile as your coworker comes to sit by you.

“Hi Becca,” you greet.

“Hey! How is everything? How’s your little boyfriend?”

You can’t help but think about how insanely quick the mention of your boyfriend comes, but you shrug it off as you answer.

“I’m good, we’re both good,” you smile and she returns it, her face scrunching as if you gave her an answer she didn’t want before she turns back around.

You practically race home after your meeting, excited to be released from your coworker’s claws and into the loving arms of your boyfriend. You step through your apartment door, dropping your keys and kicking off your shoes. Charlie’s head pops up from his position on the couch and your smile appears.

Charlie makes grabby hands at you and you head over, letting him pull you into his lap as he runs his hands up and down your back. You rest your head on his chest sighing at the calming contact of your boyfriend.

“Rough day?” he asks knowing your habit of coming in full throttle to tell him all about your day.

“Not too bad. Becca asked about you and me again,” you mention and Charlie nods in understanding.

“What’d you say?” he asks.

“That we’re madly in love,” you respond dramatically, making Charlie smile.

“Don’t worry about her or anyone else. You’re the one for me,” you remind him.

You prop your chin on his chest, gazing up at the brunette who stole your heart for the better. A tiny smile appears on your lips before you pucker your lips making Charlie giggle before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You wrap a hand around Charlie’s bicep as he leads you through the room, grabbing a drink from a waiter as you walk and your boyfriend chuckles lightly. Team events always make you nervous. You loved the team and they loved you, it was the execs and the donators, and family members that made you anxious.

You had gotten off on the wrong foot with some of them and swore you were never going to recover at this point. You still tried no matter what, knowing you would always be here to support Charlie at these things for as long as he would have you.

As you walk, you spot a girl who looks familiar in the way that makes your stomach drop. Charlie follows your gaze, the two of you in sync the only way best friends and soulmates can be. His jaw drops and he heads over to the girl, effectively dragging you along with him.

“Hailey! Hey!” he greets warmly, pulling himself from you to hug the girl.

She returns the sentiment, smiling brightly at your boyfriend as she lets go of him. Charlie instantly turns to you, re-introducing you to the girl you already knew as one of Charlie’s exes. You smile fakely towards the girl, her lip glossed lips forming into a grin herself. Charlie and her exchange pleasantries, how they’re both doing now and what’s been going on since they last saw each other. Your grip on Charlie tightens as he talks and he casts a glance towards you, knowing instantly what’s going on with you.

“It was nice seeing you Hailey,” he says and she nods before you both part from her.

You walk around, Charlie glancing at you every once in a while before you finally come to a stop at a table.

“You’re jealous,” he says and you turn towards him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Hm?”

“Baby,” he says placing his hands on your hips effectively turning you towards him.

“I love you,” he reminds you and you search his eyes, a brief smile appearing on your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your hands sit interconnected over the console as Charlie drives, he’s your calm in the upcoming nerves that pound against your heart. The drag of his callouses against your palm brings comfort to you like nothing else can.

When he parks the car he turns towards you, and you refuse to meet his eyes. You let go of his hand, flipping it over and tracing the toughness of his palms with your fingers. You feel his eyes trail from your face to your hands, cupping both of your hands in his and making you focus again.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says and a tiny smile shows up on your lips.

“I should be saying that to you,” you tell him and a grin splits open on his face.

Your eyes wander up to Charlie’s toothy grin and you feel your smile widening at the sight of it. You had always been a sucker for a good smile, and it was no doubt the first thing you noticed about the boy in front of you. You pull one of your hands from his, reach up, and running your thumb over his bottom lip making him lean into your touch.

“You ready to go?” he asks and you nod quietly.

You and Charlie get out of the car together, his hand finding yours instantly and your nerves still for a moment at the contact. He takes a step forward and your confidence is slightly renewed with your love beside you.

You step into the restaurant, spotting your family immediately and you make your way over to them. You offer hugs to your parents while Charlie gives a handshake to your father who seems to be already frowning at your boyfriend’s presence.

You take your seat’s and the awkwardness fills the restaurant. It’s not that your parents didn’t like Charlie, they just weren’t his biggest fan. You were pretty sure the minute you told them you were dating a hockey player, and then a Bruin, and then one of the most famous Bruins, they were wary from the start.

“So Charlie,” your dad starts and you look towards him. “Still playing for a losing team?”

“Dad!” you snap wondering how long he’s been holding that one in.

“Actually sir we’re headed to the playoffs soon,” Charlie responds with ease.

As he talks his hand finds its way to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before rubbing slow circles with his thumb to calm you down.

“Well so are the Islanders,” your dad responds and Charlie laughs only making you smile lightly.

“That is true sir.”

Charlie and your dad glance at each other for a moment before they break and you grin unknowingly at the action. Charlie had always been amazing like this around your parents, patient, kind, and loving, you couldn’t get over it.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear and he smiles looking down.

“Of course.”

The rest of dinner passes, with a few more passive-aggressive comments to you and Charlie. You and Charlie head out, this time his arm wrapped around your shoulders and yours around his waist as you make your way to his car.

He leads you to the passenger side and you lean against the door and look up at Charlie. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and he slots himself between your legs. You look up at him through your lashes and Charlie’s eyes search yours.

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone says,” you start. “This love is ours.”

“Ours huh?” he asks leaning down closer to you.

“Always and forever.”

He smiles at you before ducking down and pressing a long kiss to your lips one you smile through and Charlie returns.

[sakiyo]

━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae​ i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!” 

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning. 

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time], 

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you. 

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh. 

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times. 

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?” 

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion. 

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around. 

“i’ve already said—” 

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty. 

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place. 

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest. 

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking. 

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest. 

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect. 

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room. 

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale 

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale 

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale 

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale 

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale 

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it. 

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams. 

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends. 

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other. 

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue. 

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin. 

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other. 

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped. 

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24​ and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor. 

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs. 

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else. 

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing. 

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy. 

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight.  I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade. 

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works. 

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place. 

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton. 

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet. 

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me. 

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down. 

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes. 

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs. 

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little. 

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

 “Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead. 

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me. 

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head. 

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face. 

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor. 

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting. 

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed. 

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan. 

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless. 

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs. 

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing. 

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response. 

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me. 

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises. 

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on. 

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

 “Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps. 

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them. 

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living. 

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car. 

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks. 

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.   

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

 “So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again. 

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van. 

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me. 

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep. 

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed. 

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us. 

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either. 

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

 “No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch. 

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again. 

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me. 

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out. 

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?” Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I. 

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic. 

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands. 

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me. 

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new. 

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head. 

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions. 

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed. 

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another. 

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena. 

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?