#he keeps sitting close to my friends and he came to ice hockey and he makes me act fucking weird bc I don’t know what to do with it

[exopelagic]

why am I haunted by this fucking guy from first year

[sturnioloszn]

ICE BOUND (2) - M.S

summary; you go watch one of matt's games, which he loses, and you allow him to take his frustration out on you, but what you didn't expect was underlying feelings to be revealed.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex (don't do it ho), oral (eating pussy), dirty talk, praising, leaving hickeys.

a/n; this is part 2 to my most recent fic, so I recommend reading the one before this (ill have it tagged below). also, feel free to send thru any suggestions for future fics, i'd be more than glad to hear them and try to write them!!

ICE BOUND P1

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

3 - 3

They were tied. It's been a close game, and there were now five minutes left of overtime.

I was sitting on the furthest bench away, surrounded by people. This was the first game of playoffs, and it meant that many people were here to support their family and friends. I was here to 'support my father', but in reality, I was here for Matt.

Ever since me and Matt hooked up that one time after practice, it had become a regular thing. At first, he'd come over after practice or games for blowjobs or sex but then the visits became more frequent. He started coming over to watch tv and eat together. We even went out to lunch once. Of course, my father doesn't know about this. He'd kill us both.

We aren't anything official, but if you were to ask me whether he didn't mean anything to me, I wouldn't be able to answer you.

So, I was currently watching Matt glide on the ice, keeping his focus on the puck. I had to admit watching him play was a huge turn-on. They way he'd get all sweaty or even how he was visibly angry each time the other team scored had me soaked.

I watched the timer count down the seconds left, and my heartbeat sped up, hoping that someone on Matt's team would score. With ten seconds left, the other team had possession of the puck, and they flawlessly scored the winning goal.

My eyes flew to Matt to see his reaction, and it was just what I'd thought it'd be. He swung his hockey, stick at the ground, and pulled his helmet off as he skated off the ice. Matt had a tendency to a bit of a sore loser, especially considering this was the first game of playoffs.

I stood up to go search for him, hoping that I won't find my father instead, but he should be preoccupied with talking to the team.

I leave the rink and head to the locker rooms. I find him stuffing his skates into his bag and mumbling under his breath. I walk up to him and place my hand on his shoulder. He looks up at me to acknowledge my presence before going back to what he was doing.

"You played well," I reassure him, even though I know he won't care. He scoffs before turning back to me.

"If we played well, we would've won... I can't believe we lost to those fucking amateurs," he says, speaking the last part under his breath. I watch as he pulls his jersey off and heads to the showers. It's best if I just wait outside and let him cool down.

It's been about half an hour since I left the locker room, and I finally see him exit with wet hair, fresh clothes on, and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He has a frown on his face as he walks over to me.

"So what y'doing now?" He asks, looking me up and down. His hair was dripping onto his blue hoodie. Fuck, the way that hoodie made his eyes look even colder did unimaginable things to me.

"I don't know, I don't really have any plans..." I reply, trying to keep my composure. "...we could go to yours?" I continue. He squints his eyes at me before replying.

"Didn't you come here for your dad? What would he think if you just randomly left?" He says, raking his eyes over my body again.

"I'll text him saying something came up," I say, already thinking of an excuse.

"Yeah. My dick," he grins. What an idiot. I roll my eyes, and we make our way to his car.

The journey was pretty tame until he dropped his heavy hand onto my thigh. His thumb caressed the inside of my leg as he kept one hand on the steering wheel. I tried to sneak glances at him, but I was far from subtle. He was driving me insane.

We eventually reached his apartment, and we just about got through the door before his hands were already on me. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled my mouth onto his. The kiss was rough and sloppy, to the point where our teeth clashed together.

"Let me help you," I offer, pulling away from the kiss just enough to speak.

"Help me with what?" He huffs, a confused look drawing on his face.

"Take your anger out...on me," I say, looking into his eyes. A smirk plays on his lips as he moves his hands to under my thighs, lifting me off the ground. Our kissing resumes as he walks us over to his bedroom.

He kicks the door open and sets me down on the bed, never breaking our kiss. He lifts my sweater high enough to place a few delicate pecks on my stomach before pulling it off completely. My jeans and bra follow until I'm left almost bare infront of him.

He's between my legs with his head pressed to my collarbone, leaving sloppy kisses all over. I feel his mouth latch onto my neck and start sucking but I pull away almost instantly.

"You can't..." I whisper, pulling his head away. He looks up at me with confusion. "My dad will find out if you do," I clarify.

He's annoyed by this, but regardless, he doesn't continue. He peppers kisses down my body until he reaches my clothed pussy. I let a sigh of relief out when he places a kiss right on my clit, and a whine when he continues moving down.

He reaches my thighs and throws my legs over his shoulders. He's so close than I can feel his breath on my skin.

"He won't find them here," he smiles slyly, before attaching his lips to the soft flesh of my thighs and sucking. I moan at the feeling of him sucking bruises into my skin and marking me.

I watch him work his mouth, leaving hickey after hickey on my legs. He eventually looks up at me before pulling my panties down, drinking in the sight of my pink, wet pussy infront of him.

He wastes no time bringing his tongue to my folds and licking up my wetness. My hand flies to his now damp hair and my moans become louder.

He's eating me like I'm his last meal, and he's trying to savour every moment. His tongue laps over my folds and his teeth graze my clit causing jolts of pleasure to run through my body.

"F-uck Matt, don't stop," I moan, and just as those words leave my lips, his mouth stops moving. I whine and buck my hips at his face for him to keep going but he pulls away, letting my legs drop from his shoulders.

I watch as he slips out of his clothes, revealing his thick and hard cock. He then brings his lips to my ear before speaking, "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name, pretty girl,".

With no warning, he shoves his cock into my hole, filling me completely. He begins to rock his hips into me harshly, forcing me to grab the sheets for support.

"Fuck, s-slow down," I stutter but his thrusts just become harder and harder.

"No fucking way, y'wanted this you slut, and now you're going to fuckin' take it," he grunts, pounding into me roughly. His large hands were gripping my hips so hard it felt as though they'd leave bruises.

I moan louder, his words pushing me closer to the edge. He looks down at my stomach and sees his cock fucking me from the outside.

"Fuck, look at that, you're taking my cock so fucking good," he growls, pushing his hand onto the bulge on my stomach, feeling his own dick.

"I'm s-so so clo-se Matt," I fumble my words. He was literally fucking me senseless. He then lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder again, reaching even deeper.

His cock was striking my g-spot over and over again and I just couldn't hold it anymore. I let myself go. I screwed my eyes shut, and I screamed at the pleasure coursing through my body. Matt continues to fuck me, chasing his own high.

"Fuck, fuck, yes, you're so perfect," he says, throwing his head back. I gained my vision again, coming down from euphoria, and saw he was close to coming. I squeezed myself around his cock and that tipped him over the edge.

"FUCK, I love you so much," He grunts, letting his hot cum fill me. My face drops. He didn't just- I was hearing it right?

His thrusts slow down, and he lowers his head to look at me. I try to conceal the shock on my face as he's looking at me. Did he even realise what he said?

His forehead drops to mine as we both recover from the intense sex we just had. I look into his mesmerising eyes, looking for a sign that he knows what he just let slip.

He eventually lifts away from me and goes to his bathroom to get a towel to clean both of us with. He comes back and wipes the cum spilling from my pussy.

I threw his jumper on, and he changed into clean boxers. We laid in bed together, enjoying eachothers silence, but my head was a mess. He just claimed he 'loved' me during sex. I wonder if he even heard himself say it?

The questions are eating away at me, and I can't keep it together anymore.

"Hey, do you remember what you said before?" I ask, shifting on his chest to look at him. He meets my eye contact before answering.

"No, what did I say?" He asks. Fuck. He doesn't even know what he said. He doesn't feel that way. There's no point asking.

"Nothing," I mumble, turning my head away from him. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Why was I upset? I don't care if he doesn't love me. We aren't together. I don't love him either.

Except.. I do. Without even realising it, I fell for him. Each time, he bought me my favourite takeout or cuddled with me after giving me the best dick of my life or even when he'd look at me while he was playing hockey and wink. It all made me fall for him, and I didn't even realise.

"No, something is up. What's wrong, pretty girl?" He asks, forcing me to look back up at him.

"It's just... while you were coming, you said that... you loved me..." I say, hoping that I don't scare him away for good. His face blushes red and he seems embarrassed.

"Well... it's how I feel," he admits. My jaw drops open, but I close it quick enough so that he doesn't see. "I'm sorry if that ruins things between us, I know we're jus-" I cut him off with my lips crashing into his. He hesitates for a moment before kissing me back.

"I feel the same..." I whisper, pulling back slightly from his lips. He's staring deeply into my eyes, trying to test if this was some kind of joke, but it wasn't. I truly felt that way, and it felt good to admit it.

After a few moments of us silently staring at each other, he speaks up, "do you want to give us a chance?"

I feel a smile take over my face, "more than anything,"

The rest of the day was spent being wrapped up in each other and uttering the words "I love you" every other sentence.

We didn't know how this would work, considering his coach was my father, but we weren't about to give up. Even if that meant more sneaking around...

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; woooo, done! also guys, ...200 followers?!?!?! what the fuck. that's insane. thank you, everyone, I can't begin to express how much it means to me. i am so beyond thankful to everyone who follows, reposts, and likes. i am so so grateful. love you all. 💙

Taglist; @idrk2292 @mattsfavseason @aalicats87 @045696

[sturniolo04]

Caught- All

Bf!Nate x Brother!Matt x Brother!Nick x Brother!Chris x Sls!Fem!Reader

Where do we even begin, It basically started in high school, you were always living in the shadow of your older brothers Nick, Mat, and Chris but they always made sure it didn't feel like that especially when you started highschool. Nate was both your brothers best friend as well as yours, you guys practically grew up together and if you where being honest you always had a crush on him and thought he was super cute considering you always spent time with him because he was always around your brothers for hockey.

Junior year of highschool is when it all started though. All the sneaking around behind your brothers back dating your brothers best friend. You would have told them that you two were dating if they didn't tell you, due to their overprotectiveness, you shouldn't date right now because they think you are too young so god forbid you tell them you are dating your guys family best friend out of all things.

"what's good nate how have you been"

matt greets him as you slowly made your way to the kitchen area where they all were hanging out.

"good hey Soph"

he greets you subtly which was completely normal.

"hey goofball"

you giggle ruffling his hair his hair is so soft.

"you guys want to go to get Mcdonalds or something"

chris suggests

"actually we should go to the rink to get some practice in what do you think"

matt asks the group even though Nick and you would be going for the pure fun of it.

"fine by me"

nick shrugs finally averting his attention away from his phone.

"sounds good im going to the bathroom before we go"

you slyly state making your way to the bathroom upstairs since your room is upstairs.

"thats a good idea i also forgot my hat in matt's roomso I will grab that before I get'

he makes up to head upstairs with you.

You finally make it upstair with nate following you as you two moved into the bathroom to close the door behind you both so you wouldn't risk getting caught by your brothers.

'hey"

he casually says as you sit on top of the bathroom counter as he places his hands on your thigh sporting a pair of black leggings with the fresh love hoodie that he actually left in matt's room yesterday.

"hi youre hair looks really good today"

you compliment him running your hands quickly through fixing the strays and out place hairs in the process, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips.

By this time you guys were only a couple months into your relationship and Nate was a year older than you which your weirdly enough liked and adore about your guys relationship.

"okay lets go before matt or chris come up here wondering where we are"

he states as his hands have moved to a comfortable to spot on your hips as you two got distracted with sharing a continuous passionate kiss.

"ugh fine"

you groan as you place one last kiss on his lips as he helps you down the countertop.

"what the fuck took you two so long"

nick complains as you two climb into the back of the van.

" i was helping him find his hat"

you shrug

"did you guys find it"

chris asks.

"no i have no idea where it is maybe it is back at my house and I'm tripping"

Nate adds on.

The whole ride to the rink was filled with sly thigh grabs from Nate and a couple of sly cute whispers in my ear making you giggle and blush at the simplicity of it. once you guys arrived at the rink nate had practically ditch your brothers and was doing his own thing with you on the ice.

"yo nate you want to play two v two "

matt shouts across the ice as you guys are at the other end basically

"fuck off matt in a minute"

you groan out simply just wanting your boyfriends attention and to be fair they had just done a series of hockey drills before he came over to hang with you, so you response is warranted.

"soph its not like yall are dating he's our best friend too"

chris chuckles out skating towards you two.

"yeah you and i can keep score soph of the two v two game"

nick suggests picking up on your nonverbal movements already believing that you and Nate were dating on the down low.

"fine"

you groan out.

" let's go"

nate exclaims out as his picks up up by the hips to spin you around on the ice.

"nathan stop put me down"

you scream out gripping onto his forearms wrapped around your waist as he chuckles setting you back down on your skates and letting go before you had your balance fully yet resulting in you landing on your ass.

"oh my god soph"

nick exclaims as he covers his mouth trying not to laugh like matt and chris along with Nate as his body is frozen in the late position he was in to attempt to catch your arms before you hit the ice.

"oww"

you exclaim dragging out the 'w'

"holy shit soph"

chris exclaims as him and matt laugh.

"thats not funny that fucking hurt"

you playfully sob out as nathan helps you up.

"ba- bud im so sorry"

nate corrects himself as nick raising an eyebrow.

"i quit you guys play your stupid two v two"

you huff out skating off of the ice to head to the benches to put your shoes back on.

You guys finally made it back to your house and your brothers decided to go get Mcdonalds and bring it back to the house so you guys can watch a movie or something, leaving you and nate at the house in the kitchen.

'how are you"

nate chuckles out referring to the incident that happened at the rink earlier that afternoon.

'im not talking to you you let me fall"

you pout turning your head away from him as he makes his was over to your standing figure leaning against the counter, placing his hands on your waist.

"come one you cant stay mad at me forever"

he teases you placing a sweet kiss on your temple as you snap you head back to face him raising an eyebrow.

"you want to bet"

you taunt as he huffs out.

"baby i swear i didnt even see you getting ready to fall it caught me off guard"

he chuckles rubbing small circles on your hips as you let out a small pout.

"it really hurt babe"

you whine out as you reach and wrap your arms around his neck.

"i dont know how you have all 'dat as protection"

he chuckles placing couple loving pats to your ass.

"natee"

you squeal nuzzling your face into his neck.

'you want me to make it up"

he slyly states as you slowly nod your head as he lifts you up to sit on top of the counter you were leaning against. Nate links your guys lips him locking you into a hot makeout. He threads his fingers into your scalp pulling your head slightly to make the make out most hunger and aggressive.

You guys were so caught up you didn't even hear your brothers come back with the food into the kitchen.

"WHAT THE FUCK SOPH! NATE!"

matt exclaims him being the first one to walk in on the pair with chris and nick following.

You two break away from the kiss exchanging a similar look of panic.

"fuck"

nate whispers out running hand through his messy hair

"REALLY WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN"

chris exclaims not sure whether to feel happy for his sister or angry at his best friend.

"matt chris i- we "

you stutter out hopping off of the counter.

"when did it happen you better start explaining"

matt calmly huffs out.

"this year- before your guys hockey and my dance practice"

you sigh out fidgeting his your silver rings on your fingers.

"I KNEW IT"

nick shouts as matt and chris turn to him with shocked expressions painted on their face.

"and you didnt say shit nick"

chris huffs out.

"well i didnt want to say anything because I didnt know for sure"

he shrugs out.

"are you mad i know you guys told me not to date yet but nate and i-"

you ramble out

"whoa whoa we arent mad just shocked"

matt states

"yeah in fact i trust nate alot more than any other guy you know"

chris casually states hugging you as you let out a sigh of relief.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @spicymuffins03 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @emely9274 @stayingstromboli

[avatar-anna]

Please Anna 😭 Write a part 2 of ice hockey harry and skater YN (possibly longer if you cank)

the part two to my hockey harry fic that only a couple people asked for. enjoy!

You knew you shouldn't have been jealous, you were the one who put all these strict rules in place about keeping the arrangement you had with Harry from being anything more than it was. Harry followed along of course, but it always felt like he was just amusing you, like he knew something you didn't.

But despite how good he made you feel, he still infuriated you. He was still the cocky asshole who considered himself the best athlete on campus. And you'd made such a big showing of being indifferent to him, of not being charmed by him that you couldn't see him as anything more than a good fuck. You wouldn't.

So why did seeing him flirt with someone else make your blood boil all of a sudden?

You'd seen Harry at parties before. Sometimes he would sneak you away to a bathroom with a lock on it or a room no one would enter, but in most cases you both minded your business, sometimes sharing snarky remarks if your paths crossed. Tonight was the same, though when your eye snagged on him and some girl that looked nothing like you, you gripped your plastic cup a little harder than usual.

You and Harry weren't dating each other, but you were also keenly aware of the fact that neither of you went out or hooked up with anyone else. You told yourself that it was to reduce the risk of STIs, but did Harry want to explore other options? Were you not giving him enough satisfaction? Why was he leaning in so close to her?

Then, almost as if he could sense you looking at him, Harry turned and met your gaze. His brow raised the slightest bit as if to say, Your move.

He was doing this on purpose. Harry was intentionally flirting with some random girl to get a reaction out of you, to see what exactly that reaction would be. He probably wanted you to storm over there and get between him and the girl, and...What? Claim him? Make sure everyone at this party knew Harry wasn't as available as people thought?

Well, you were not going to do that.

The smart thing to do would've been to just ignore him, to not play his little game at all. But intelligence and good sense seemed to fly out the window when Harry Styles was involved.

You didn't go over to Harry, though. You stalked off in search of more alcohol and your friends. The bass of some rap song pounded through the speakers as you pushed past people. You found yourself in the next room over, searching for a place to sit and people watch.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Turning, you saw someone approach, and your eyes lit up, but only because of the opportunity that was presented to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry enter the room holding hands with that girl. Smiling to yourself, you looked up at the guy in front of you. "Hey, Evan. We have metaphysics together, right?"

Evan and Harry were virtually opposites. Similar on paper, but completely different otherwise. He played baseball, was the team captain, and was handsome, so so handsome. But he was sweet too. He didn't strut around or make crude remarks. Evan had a quiet, understated kind of confidence. He was the one you should've gotten all flustered around.

"Yeah. I saw you and I thought I'd say hi. I don't normally see you at parties."

You weren't the kind of person who flirting came naturally to, but you did your best. "Yeah, I came with my friends, but I'm glad I ran into you."

Evan's eyes glanced down to his arm when you placed your hand on it. Unable to help yourself, you glanced to your left. You fought the smile that crept on your face when you caught Harry shooting daggers at you. Before he noticed you noticing him, you turned back to the boy in front of you.

"Really?"

You nodded. "I mean, like you said, we have a class, we sit next to each other, but we've hardly said two words to each other."

His eyes squinted as he grinned, then bent down to whisper in your ear. "Or are you glad that someone as good-looking as me is here to make Styles over there jealous?"

Well, shit. "I'm sorry," you said, a blush forming on your cheeks. "He's just being an ass, and I thought I would—I don't even like him, but he's such an asshole—"

"You mentioned that," Evan said, but for some reason, he didn't seem to be mad at being used. "I don't really care what you think of the guy, but I'm always up for a bit of light teasing."

"Really? What's in it for you?" you asked. This was not the reaction you were expecting.

"Help with studying for the midterm? I'm not gonna lie, I'm totally lost in that class."

You thought about it for a moment. Harry really wasn't worth going to all this trouble for, right? With another glance out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry completely ignoring whoever it was he'd been flirting with to piss you off, and that was satisfying to say the least.

"I...I don't like him like that," you said. You felt like you had to say it.

"No judgment here," Evan said, raising his hands in mock defense. "I just need to pass an exam. I'd technically be using you just as much if you think about it."

"Five minutes, ten tops, and I'll help you study for the test," you decided. "I don't like him, but I like the idea of ruffling his feathers."

Evan grinned. "Well then. Better make 'em count."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was fuming, you could tell. It shouldn't have brought you so much satisfaction, but it did. He just always got under your skin all the time with his teasing and heckling during practice, it was nice to be on the other side of it.

And you'd made a friend out of Evan. To everyone at the party, it looked like you and Evan were flirting heavily with his arm draped over your shoulder and the casual touches between the two of you, but you talked about your class mostly. And the sports you played, but mostly school. It turned out you were both kind of lost in class and were going to need to clock a lot of hours in the library if you were going to pass the upcoming midterm.

And Harry was there in your periphery, looming in the corner of the room you were in while you talked to Evan. You told yourself he was doing this to himself because if he'd just come over, he'd realize it was all a ruse.

When he finally did, you and Evan were sitting on a couch, your legs were across his lap while he told you about some tournament the baseball team had next weekend. "You should come," he said. "There's food and music, it's a big party, really. The baseball team knows how to have a good time. So if you ever find yourself out of that little ice rink of yours—"

"She has plans already. Thanks."

You tipped your head back to see Harry standing over you and Evan. His arms were crossed and there was an adorable little scowl on his face. You knew he was pissed, but it was cute because he was so jealous.

"I do?"

Harry just glowered down at you, and you stared right back, your arms crossed just like his were.

"I'm gonna—I think I see some friends over there."

Evan gently put your feet back on the ground and stood up. He clapped Harry on the back the way all guys did as they sized each other up, which you found both ridiculous and amusing. You quietly waved goodbye to your new friend, then looked back to Harry, brows raised the same way he'd done to you a little bit ago.

"Can I help you?"

Muttering under his breath, Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, dragging you off until he found an empty room, some office that was converted into a room with a pool table, a dart board, and a bunch of other games. Before you could say a word, his hands were on your hips and lifting you up onto the pool table. He put his hands in your hair, gripping the back of your head harshly as he pulled you to him for a searing kiss.

You almost didn't want to kiss him back, just out of spite, but there was just something about Harry that got to you. Even when you were training and he was teasing you from outside the rink and you were pretending you hated it, hated him, you felt like you had a magnet in your navel dragging you to him against your will. Harry drove you insane, and on principle, you should have hated him. He was cocky, arrogant, had an ego the size of Texas, and yet...

Your legs wrapped around his waist and drew him closer to you. His grip on your waist was hard, almost painful, but it felt good too, deliriously so.

"Harry—I want—Can we—"

"I don't really care about what you want," he seethed, un buttoning the cropped sweater you were wearing. "What the hell do you think you're doing out there, huh?"

You quickly put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a bit. "Me? You started it! And last time I checked, we weren't exclusive."

"Bullshit! We—" he stopped and stepped away, not meeting your gaze. Looking at him, you realized he was really hurt by this. Angry, for sure, but it felt like he was using it to mask something more.

"Harry, we—we agreed that this was just—"

"Just sex, I know. I know," Harry said, stepping back. "I shouldn't have flirted with that girl tonight. I was just hoping—I mean, I—I thought you would react differently, I guess. My mistake."

You were left speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You didn't know what to say, you thought you and Harry were on the same page.

As you continued to struggle for words, Harry stepped away from you even more. "I, um, I know what we agreed on at the start of all this, and I'm—I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore."

"Harry—"

"No, it's my fault. You held up your end, I couldn't hold up mine. I'll leave you to get to know that guy. On the baseball team, right? I've met him a few times. He seem like a nice guy."

Harry left soon after that, his head bowed. You were still frozen, perhaps in shock, sweater still half unbuttoned.

You'd never seen Harry...like that before. Things were always playful between the two of you, and you were always purposely pushing each other's buttons. You thought that was what was happening tonight, but apparently you'd misread the whole situation.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You're staring."

You jolted in your seat at the dining hall, looking away from Harry and his friends and down at your barely-eaten sandwich. "I wasn't."

"You were," Kate said. "It's okay to be upset, you know."

You looked at your friend, trying to act confused but couldn't muster the energy. "How did you—"

"You think I didn't notice when you were in such high spirits out of seemingly nowhere? And then the moping since last week? Give me some credit," she said, a small grin on her face. "So, did you like him?"

Looking down at your sandwich, you said, "It wasn't like that, we were just—" You sighed. "It wasn't like that."

Kate snorted, which made you look up at her. She was looking at you amusingly, like she was in on a joke that you weren't. "What?" you asked.

"It's okay to have feelings for him."

"I don't," you insisted, but even to you it sounded like you were only trying to convince yourself.

"What happened between you two?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said.

Standing up from the table, you took your lunch and walked over to the trash cans to throw out the sandwich. Kate followed, but didn't say anything. As you left the dining hall, you had to pass the table Harry and his friends. The grip on your backpack tightened, preparing yourself for the unavoidable interaction. You hadn't seen Harry since the party. He didn't come by the rink while you practiced anymore, and you never saw him when your training sessions overlapped. Sometimes you wondered if he went back to taking the bus, and in those moments, you missed him the most, if only because you didn't know if he was safe or not.

He was avoiding you, you could tell, but you didn't really know what to say to him if you were given the chance. He made it clear that he had feelings for you, and you...Well, you—

"Kate! Off to class?"

Zayn, Kate's boyfriend and Harry's teammate, smiled as she walked by. You half expected her to want the two of you to sit with him and Harry and their friends, but she didn't. Apparently because she knew you and Harry had had a falling out.

"Nope," Kate said. "Y/n and I are both done for the day, so we're gonna go shopping at the mall a couple towns over. Wanna join?"

Shooting your friend a look, you elbowed her and tried to tell her that was a terrible idea. Zayn didn't think so, though, and agreed. "H, you coming?"

"Uh..."

"Great. I think my car will fit all of us. Meet us within the next half hour?" Kate asked, dragging you away shortly after. When you were out of the dining hall, you smacked her arm.

"What the hell?"

"He likes you, Y/n. And you clearly feel something for him. What the hell is wrong with that?" she asked you, walking down the path that would lead to the dorms. "He's, you know, he's Harry, and he's a cocky bastard, but he's harmless. Kinda sweet in that goofy, lovable idiot kind of way."

"I know."

Kate pinned you with a look. "Did he do something? Did he say something that made you hate him, or—"

"Nothing. He didn't do anything. We just—We had an agreement, and he—"

"Aw, and you were so good he fell for you," she cooed, laughing when you frowned at her. "Do you like him?"

You frowned at her. "What?"

"Do you like him like that too?" she asked again, hands on her hips and everything.

"I—It doesn't matter. He probably hates me now anyway," you told her with a shake of her head.

Eyes lit up, she looped your arms through hers and began walking again. "We'll see about that."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Walking around a mall with Harry was not your idea of a good time.

Almost five minutes into the trip, Kate and Zayn disappeared with the rest of the group you came with, leaving you and Harry alone to walk awkwardly side by side. Neither of you said anything, just walked aimlessly past store after store. You were itching to say something, anything, to break the obvious tension between the two of you, but you couldn't come up with anything to say. You and Harry were never the types to have small talk, and now certainly didn't feel like the time to start.

So you snuck glances at him instead. You peeked at him, at the same baseball cap that he always wore, the same scuffed up pair of sneakers, the sleeves of his shirt that clung to his arm tightly, the spot just below his collar where his skin was a tiny bit paler because it didn't see as much sun. You took note of all the little things you took for granted when you had the luxury of seeing him all the time. You wondered if he was doing the same when you looked away.

"I...I'm sorry that Kate forced your hand," you finally managed to say. "I didn't know she was going to spring that on you and Zayn. I'm probably the last person you want to hang out with right now."

"It's fine," he said, still not looking over at you. You understood why, of course, but you found yourself really wanting him to look at you.

"And I'm—I'm sorry about that night at the party. You...You took me by surprise, that's all."

Harry chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You don't have to try and make me feel better about it, Y/n. I already told you it's fine. You're off the hook."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a family restroom. He protested as you locked the door, and for a moment there was some light pushing and slapping of hands between the two of you, but you finally managed to shush him and put your hand up so you could collect your thoughts.

"I—I don't want a nice guy."

"What?"

You paced the small bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest. "At the party, you said Evan was a nice guy, and he is, he's very sweet—"

"Y/n, I really don't care about what kind of guy Evan is—"

"Will you shut up?" you interrupted. Harry raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't say anything. Your hands were shaking, but you took a deep breath and continued. "He's nice, but I don't want a nice guy. I want—I want...you."

Harry was quiet for a moment, leaning against the bathroom door. His head was bent, but when he lifted it, he had a small grin on his face. "Wow, that was some speech. You really know how to make a guy feel good."

"Yeah, well, you're no poet, either," you grumbled, crossing your arms.

"Um, no. Nuh-uh. That's not how this is gonna go," he said, stepping closer to you. "You are apologizing to me. That doesn't involve you insulting me. I am nice, by the way. So you'll have to apologize for that too."

"Oh please. We're both assholes," you muttered. You kicked at nothing on the tile floor, waiting for your nerves to settle. You'd never been all that good with words, which was why you loved skating. You could express yourself through each performance much easier than talking. "I'm confessing, not apologizing. There's a difference."

"Really?" he asked, stepping closer, settling his hand on your hip. Your breath hitched, and Harry's grin widened when he heard it. "Because I'm not taking you on a date until you apologize."

"A date? I didn't say anything about a—"

"You'll want to. Once I tell you all about it," he said, pulling you straight to his chest. Your hands itched to touch him, but you kept them at your side. You knew Harry pretty much had all the power, but a proud part of you was still hanging on, not giving in. "And you're definitely not getting into bed with me until we go on a date. I know you're practically aching for it. You're just too stubborn to do something about it."

"Excuse me? You—"

"You said you didn't want nice, baby. I can be that for you, and so much more." Harry leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You just have to say yes."

"Fine. Yes, now will you—"

"No. Like you mean it."

Your brows furrowed even more, but Harry was in your space for the first time in a week. He was grinning and making your heart leap, and if you took two seconds to think about it, a date did sound nice. Going to his games in his jersey and him watching you perform, holding hands, study dates, kissing him whenever you felt like it.

"I...I hated seeing you with that girl. I was practically seeing red," you said, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his jeans.

"Yeah?"

"I want to sit on your lap at parties, I want to be your partner at beer pong, I want you to make sure I make it home safe at the end of the night and make sure I get my shoes off before going to sleep," you said, tilting your head up at him. "I want to wear your jersey at your games so that those girls who always come to your games know to back the fuck off. That good enough for you?"

Harry caressed the side of your face and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. "I mean, that wasn't really an apology, but—"

"Oh shut up."

You leaned up and kissed him, pushing him backward until his back was against the door of the bathroom. Harry tried to put his hands on your waist, but you pinned them down, kissing him harder. You knew he definitely could've resisted, but he wasn't, he was letting you do your thing.

It had only been a week, but you'd missed him. You missed gripping your fingers in his hair and tasting his skin and watching him react to the faintest touches. And yes, you missed the in-between moments too. You didn't talk much to each other much, but you liked waking up next to him and hearing him mumble in his sleep. You liked how Harry spooned you right after sex and always had a fresh towel for you to shower with, and how he always gave you space on the bed when you asked for it. You liked how gentle he was with you when he went a little rougher than usual in bed and how even though you were always exchanging jabs and casual insults, he always had the gentlest voice when he cleaned you up and brought you back down from the cloud you were drifting away on. You liked how he randomly kissed the birthmark on your rib cage and how he pushed you harder than anyone else did when you were training. You liked how he understood how competitive you were, that he did because he was just as dedicated an athlete as you were.

You could have that again, and so much more, just like he said.

"This is my apology," you said, kissing him while undoing his belt buckle. "I'm gonna have bruises on my knee for days, and my throat is gonna be sore, but you're not gonna tease me about it because this is my grand apology, got it?"

"Well, I don't know if I couldn't help myself from one little joke."

"I will walk out this door and leave you hard and alone," you said, letting go of him.

Harry raised his hands up, surrendering. "Okay, okay, shutting up. I'll behave, I promise. I could get used to these kinds of apologies."

Grinning, you got back to unbuckling Harry's belt. You kissed him once on the lips before sinking to your knees, the cold tile biting your skin.

You could get used to these kinds of apologies too.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"God, Harry is so hot."

"I know. The things I would do if I had a moment alone with him."

"I heard he has a girlfriend now."

"So? He's not married. That's fair game to me as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh my God, Monique. You're terrible!"

"Mm. I just know what I want," the girl, Monique, shrugged, tying her hair back with a clip. "And I mean, he'll want it too. You'll see."

If fake flirting when you technically weren't together had driven you crazy, then listening to some girl you didn't know talk about your boyfriend like he was hers for the taking? Your blood was boiling.

You glared at the girl and her friend standing a couple feet in front of you, crossing your arms and tapping your foot rapidly. Harry was supposed to come out of the locker room any minute now, but now it felt like he was taking his sweet time while you listened to Monique and her friend talk about stealing your boyfriend. "Where the hell is he?" you muttered, pulling your phone out to text him.

A minute later, and the doors to the locker room opened, all the members of the school's hockey team flooding out. You strained your neck looking for Harry, not caring if that made you look desperate. The minute you saw him, you were going to make it clear to Monique that she would not be getting what she wanted this time.

He spotted you first, green eyes lighting up when he saw you waiting for him. He was dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a dark gray hoodie, his baseball cap fitted on his head like it always was. There was a flash of confusion when he saw your pissed off demeanor, but it was wiped away when he saw you rush over to him.

"Hey, good game, right? Did you see when I—mmph."

You kissed him, perhaps with more force than was probably necessary. Harry didn't seem to mind, though. He held your face with one hand and rested the other on your lower back. He tasted like mint, just like he always did after a game. Apparently brushing his teeth was just as important as showering once he got off the ice. His perspective confused you, but you didn't question it.

"While I love the enthusiasm for our win today," he mumbled, nipping your bottom lip. "It is out of the ordinary. You hardly ever know what's going on during my games."

"I'm learning," you said. Harry pinned you with a stare, like he was waiting for you to say more. Finally scoffing, you told him, "Fine. Those girls over there seem to think that you might have a wandering eye. I'm letting them know you don't."

"Me? Never," he agreed. Harry pulled back enough to kiss the tips of your fingers. His hair was still damp and extra curly around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, but the rest of him was warm, solid as you wrapped your arms around him. "But since we're both suckers for showing each other off, should we go to the party tonight or just head back to your place? Or mine. I'm good with either."

"Mm...No party tonight," you said. "Dinner and back to my place. That girl was a little too smug for my liking."

Harry took your hand and walked to the parking with you. As you passed Monique and her friend, you looked over at them and gave Monique a pointed look over your shoulder. She shot you a dirty glare, which only made you smile. Harry, who was fully aware of everything taking place, pinched your side and kissed the top of your head.

"Careful there, love. People might think you actually like me," he said, and you didn't have to look at him to know his grin was smug.

"Good."

He slung his arm over your shoulders, his hand still laced with yours until he had to put his gear in the trunk. You wrinkled your nose when you caught a whiff of the smell and immediately went for the driver's seat so you could be as far away from it as possible.

"Oh now you don't want to be anywhere near me," Harry said, pulling you back to his chest by the waist.

"You're lucky I let your shit stink up my car. That should tell you everything you need to know about my feelings," you said, giggling as he peppered the back of your neck with sloppy kisses. "Come on, Harry, I'm hungry. Let's go."

Harry stayed exactly where he was. "It's not like your stuff smells any better. Sweaty, smelly gear is sweaty, smelly gear. It's all the same," he mumbled.

"I wash my gear regularly and keep disinfectants in my bag," you said. "I thought I told you to get some."

"I'll get on it. Kiss?"

You turned around and frowned at him. "Promise?"

"Are we really talking about this right now? What happened to being wildly jealous and kissing in front of my adoring fans?"

"Bite me."

"Gladly. But not in the parking lot, so let's get out of here, yeah?"

"You're the one pinning my ass to your crotch like a desperate fool—"

"Car. Now, please," Harry said. When you turned around to face him, his usual cocky grin was back on his face, dimples on display and eyes squinting with glee. Now that you could take the time and allow yourself, you realized you thought that smile was endearing. Too sure of himself it made you want to smack him, but endearing too.

"Menace," you muttered, but got behind the wheel anyway.

"I think that's what you like best about me," he called as he shut the trunk and came around to the passenger seat.

"Yeah," you sighed. "I think you might be right."

[diorsluv]

infrunami (lh⁴³)

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

wc: 5.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially Luke.

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

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

If only you knew. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You missed it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was too difficult.

It was so stupid.

It wasn’t fair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“We believe in you.”

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

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

Not that he didn’t already know, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it did.

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

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

It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.

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

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

— diorsluv 2024

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ christmas in michigan ] l. hughes

day four of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Luke Hughes x jack bsf!reader

summary : (Y/N) is forced to get along with Luke when Jack invites her to the Hughes lake house for Christmas

warning(s) : heavy makeout, some sexual content, some angst

author’s note : i have been wracking my brain to write something for luke and i have been waning to write something angsty for the fic marathon so this is how this came to be. enjoy :)

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The last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was spend Christmas at the lake house because she knew he was going to be there too. Then Jack said that he wanted her there and she can never say no to her best friend.

That's how she ended up sitting on a plane from Newark to Detroit after the Devils game between Jack and Luke. It isn't a very long plane ride but she doesn't like how close Luke is sitting to her. She tries to keep all her attention on Jack and tries to ignore Luke, but sometimes the youngest Hughes makes a comment or two because he can't seem to keep his mouth shut when (Y/N) is around.

It's not that she has something against Luke, but it seems like he does.

When he came to Newark after his Michigan season ended last season, he made his presence very known. Luke would interrupt her and Jack's hangouts or invite himself to things that they were doing. He always had a snarky comment when she was around.

(Y/N) has no idea what she did for Luke to act like this when she's around. She's just his brother's best friend. That's all she's been since Jack was drafted in 2019.

When Luke gets up to use the bathroom, she is relieved that she gets a few moments of peace. Jack decides to disrupt that peace though.

"Can you do me a favor for the next few days?" Jack asks. She knows what's coming but she looks over at her best friend. "Can you try to get along with Luke while we're at the house? I don't like when my best friend and brother fight. Makes me feel like I'm caught in the middle."

"Because you are," she replies. Jack raises his eyebrows with an 'are you kidding me' look on his face. "Fine. You owe me big time. Maybe get your little brother on the same page too. He's the one that has an issue with me. I have nothing against Luke but he has some vendetta against me when I did nothing wrong."

Before Jack can say anything else, Luke sits back down in his aisle seat. "What are we talking about?" he questions as he looks between his older brother and (Y/N).

"Nothing that concerns you," she retorts.

Luke smiles and asks, "Then why did I hear my name come out of your mouth? Miss me that much when I went to pee?"

"In your dreams, Baby Hughes," she replies. (Y/N) knows he hates being called 'Baby Hughes'.

He rolls his eyes and looks at something on his phone. He puts in his AirPods and she feels a sense of peace.

It doesn’t last very long because as soon as the plane lands at a little past one in the morning, Luke practically pushes (Y/N) off the plane.

She can’t wait to go back home to Newark.

Jack slowly drives them to the lake house because of the layer of snow and ice on the ground. (Y/N) fights Luke for the passenger seat and loses. She has to squeeze in the back seat with a bunch of bags and she is not happy at all.

Maybe she does have something against Luke Hughes. It isn’t just because he’s Jack’s annoying younger brother either. Who lets a guest sit in the backseat with three heavily packed bags because the trunk is filled with hockey gear?

Luke. That’s who.

The lake house is dark when Jack, Luke, and (Y/N) pull up. She knows that Jim and Ellen will be getting in later with Quinn since his game just ended a little bit ago. Tonight, it’s just the three of them in this house.

Jack better get his referee shirt out because it’s going to be a long few hours until Quinn, Ellen, and Jim get in.

As predicted, Luke just grabs his things and goes to his room. (Y/N) is stuck with Jack outside in the snow. She sighs and looks at the middle Hughes.

“What is his fucking problem?” (Y/N) mutters under her breath. “He’s ridiculous.”

She pulls her bag out of the car and Jack says, “He does this every time. He grabs his own stuff and leaves us out to dry. Quinn and I don’t like it either but we deal with it.”

With a light sigh, (Y/N) follows Jack into the house. The door closes behind them and the long few days begins.

“So, the guest bedroom is upstairs across from Luke’s room,” Jack tells her. She opens her mouth to object but Jack keeps talking before she gets the chance to. “I’m aware that sucks for you and I’m sorry. I know being here is the last thing you want to do because Luke is here with his stupid vendetta against you but I want my best friend here. If he causes such a problem for you, can you try to ignore him? I don’t want the two of you to fight.”

A frown forms on her face because she can tell how frustrated Jack is getting with the two of them. The last thing she wants is to upset Jack or make him pick sides between his younger brother and best friend.

“I’ll go talk to him when I’m settled, okay?” (Y/N) tells him. “Maybe you can go get food and drinks while I do that just in case a fight breaks out. I don’t want you to get in the middle.”

Jack nods and the frown on her lips is replaced with a smile. (Y/N) walks up the stairs and down the hallway to her temporary bedroom.

A door closes down the hall so she assumes Jack is in his room. Before she can close her door to unpack, she hears Luke’s voice coming from his room. A very curious (Y/N) presses her ear to Luke’s door.

“… what I’m going to do, Rut,” he’s saying when she begins listening in. He probably on the phone and Rutger McGroarty is most likely on the other side of the line. “What am I supposed to do? She has something against me when I want to pin her against something, dude. It's killing me that she's right across the hallway right now and I can't go over there and just fuck her into that mattress.”

Her eyes widen when she realizes that he’s talking about her. Quickly, she retreats across the hall and shuts her door as quietly as she can so she doesn’t alarm Luke to the fact that she heard what he said. She leans against the door with a sigh.

Confusion floods her body. If Luke wants to fuck her then why does he constantly act like she’s this a person when he can just … fuck her? He constantly pushes her away or says something that annoys her.

She isn’t blind. He’s atttactive and she wouldn’t be totally against it. It just never occurred to her that he would want to sleep with her considering the way he acts when she’s around. The way he’d completely cover her since he is so big and she’s so tiny. How he could probably get her to come with just-

A door shutting downstairs brings her out of her head before that thought could get away from her. She blinks a few times when she realizes what she was about to think about. She hears a car pull out of the driveway and watches the lights disappear down the street.

Frustration floods her entire body when she can't understand why Luke keeps acting like this when he feels completely different. She charges across the hallway to get answers.

(Y/N) pounds on Luke’s bedroom door. “Luke Hughes!” she shouts. “Open the door.” She doesn’t care if he’s still on the phone with Rutger.

"I'm on the phone," he calls back.

She pushes open the door and her eyes fall on Luke, who lays on his bed. "You are the most confusing and irritating person I think I have ever met," she spits at him. He looks at her with wide eyes when she bursts into the room. "I mean, why can't you just man up and tell me exactly how you feel instead of treating me like shit whenever you're around me? It's exhausting."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're not quiet when you talk on the phone," she tells him. "I heard you on the phone with Rutger when I came upstairs to unpack." She watches his jaw drop and eyes practically pop out of his head. "Yeah. I heard what you said to him. Something about how you think I have something against you, when I don't by the way. What else did I hear you say? About how you wish you could've come across the hallway and fucked me into the mattress. Yeah. I think that's what I heard."

Luke quickly hangs up the phone and sits up. "Who said I was talking about you?" he questions.

"I'm the only one across the hallway from you, dumbass," she retorts. She runs her fingers through her hair with a deep sigh as soon begins to get out of bed. "If you want to fuck me, then tell me. Be a big boy and put on your big boy pants and-"

As she talks, Luke stomps over and cuts her off by crashing his lips to her in a rough kiss. His hand is on the back of her neck and his fingers curl into her hair so she doesn't go anywhere.

It's a wet and filthy kiss from the beginning, but it catches her off guard so she has to push herself away from him so she can wrap her head around what just happened. She doesn’t get very far because of his hand on the back of her neck.

Fear flashes in Luke's eyes for a split second, but she is so close that she was able to see it. She feels guilty that she pushed him away like that. “If you didn’t want me to do that, I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she snaps. She takes a sharp breath. “Just give me a second, okay?”

He nods and loosens his grip in her hair so she can back away if she wants. She doesn’t move though.

She stares up at him and thinks about how bad of an idea this would be. Sleeping with her best friend’s younger brother is a terrible idea, especially when Luke has been nothing but rude and annoying toward her.

That just means that no one will probably know what has happened between them.

(Y/N) licks her bottom lip before she gets on her toes to bring their lips together in another hot kiss. Luke seems surprised by this kiss but he does hesitate in returning it.

Her heart races in her chest. This was the last thing she thought would ever happen between them.

The two of them have been at each other’s throats for years. Now they’re kissing like it’s what they’ve wanted to do the entire time.

Maybe it has been the entire time for Luke. She can’t say that she hasn’t had a thought here or there about getting with the youngest Hughes brother. If anything to break the obvious tension between them.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, (Y/N) grasps at the t-shirt Luke is wearing. She pulls him flush against her body and she feels something poke her upper thigh. A small smile forms on her lips.

“You got a hot dog in your pocket or something?” she asks between kisses.

“Shut up,” Luke snaps. “I don’t carry food in my pocket, you asshole.”

“Then you really must’ve wanted me.”

“You have no idea.”

Those words cause her heart to jump in her chest while Luke leans down and picks her up. He’s nearly a foot taller than her so it can’t be very comfortable for him to kiss her. She wraps her legs around his waist.

She attaches her lips to his jaw and carefully kisses the sensitive skin. “You better not leave a mark,” Luke warns her. “I don’t want to explain to my brothers that you turned into a vampire or something.”

To spite him, (Y/N) softly nips at his jaw. Luke turns and drops her on the mattress. She stares up and finds that his swollen lips and wide does just does something for her.

“Get down here, Hughes,” she tells him. “Need you.”

Almost like he was waiting for her to say that, Luke crawls into the bed and hovers over her. Their lips reattach in a filthy kiss that almost causes her to plead for more.

He pulls away and looks down at her. She finds herself chasing his lips. “You’re okay with this?” Luke asks. “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“Luke, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, I’m going to get out of your bed and go across the hall to do it myself,” she tells him. “Fuck me like you hate me.”

A sly smirk forms on his face and she knows she’s in for it until Jack gets back.

༺═──────────────═༻

Three orgasms in less than two hours had to be some kind of record. Her body still shakes as Luke cleans her up. She’s completely spent.

He definitely fucked her like he hated her. She’s worried that she might not be able to walk in the morning. The only reason there wasn’t a fourth orgasm was because she heard Jack pull into the driveway.

“If you need to stay for a few minutes, you can,” Luke tells her. “I can go distract Jack until you leave.”

She nods and Luke begins to get dressed. He throws on the clothes he wore when he got here. Her eyes stay on him for a second before she says, “We need to talk about this, Luke. I don’t want this to turn into a fight that we can’t get past.”

Luke looks over as she sits up and secures the blankets under her arms. The tension has broken between them and she doesn’t want something to form after this.

He comes over to her side of the bed that she’s occupying. It catches her very off guard when he leans down and presses a soft yet chaste kiss to her already swollen lips. She raises her eyebrows and looks up at him. She probably looks very confused.

“Hope that explains how I feel,” he tells her as he stands back up. “We’ll talk about it, but right now you need to get across the hall before Jack catches you naked in my bed. I’m not sure I’m ready to explain this to him. I’m sure you aren’t either.”

She shakes her head. “Come across the hall tonight,” she suggests. “We can talk then, yeah?”

Luke smiles and nods before he leaves her alone. There are footsteps on the stairs and voices coming from the living room. (Y/N) sighs and falls back against the pillow that’s under her head.

It would be a lie if she thought that Luke didn’t rock her entire world for the last two hours. He absolutely did, and she wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Maybe not as rough next time.

Very slowly, (Y/N) begins to get dressed. She’s shaky on her legs but she manages to get her clothes in without falling over.

Much to her luck, Jack and Luke are walking down the hallway when she leaves Luke’s room. Jack freezes when he sees her. She forces a smile as she looks between the two Hughes boys. “Hi.”

Jack looks up at his brother. “You hurt her and I will send Nico after you,” he tells Luke. “I swear to God, Luke.”

Her eyes widen and a smile forms on Luke’s lips. Jack definitely put two and two together because of how red Luke’s lips are and the fact that she is walking out of Luke’s room.

Walking is a stretch though. Limping is more like it.

“I’ll never hurt her,” Luke replies. “Again.” He looks at a nervous (Y/N) standing in front of Luke’s room. “I’d kick myself if I ever hurt her.”

The nervousness she was feeling melts away and she smiles.

Christmas in Michigan no longer sounds like the worst thing in the world.

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[nycbaby21]

Imaginary Girlfriend

prompt: the guys tease Mason about his girlfriend, that they don't think exists

word count: 2,972

“Okay, that sounds good baby. See you tonight. I love you,” Mason said into the phone before turning off his car and heading into the rink for practice. “Baby and I love you. Don’t tell me you have a little girlfriend, Mase,” Trevor teases him walking beside him. Jamie is slightly behind the two rolling his eyes. “Not that it concerns you in the slightest, yes I have a girlfriend,” Mason said getting ready to hit the ice for practice. 

Mason and I had been dating for a little over eight months now. We met when he walked in and dumped his coffee all over my white shirt. He quickly stripped his sweatshirt and passed it over to me. He was so cute blushing and stumbling over his words, so when I had to leave I gave him my number to return the sweatshirt. After texting for a week trying to figure out a time that worked with both of our schedules, we met and really hit it off. He was the sweetest guy I had ever met.

My last relationship was terrible. He cheated on me for seven of the eight months we were together. To add salt to the wound, the girl he cheated on me with was my best friend and bandmate at the time. Our group went from five to four when everything came out. I never liked the term famous or celebrity because I didn’t feel like that. I just sang with some of my closest friends and people happened to really like us. Due to my past and the fact my last relationship was so public, Mason and I decided to keep it to ourselves for the time being. 

“So who is the lucky girl who stole our boy’s heart,” Trevor continued his teasing. Mason looked over to Jamie for help, but the older Canadian couldn’t help but also be curious about the girl. He rolled his eyes,” we have been together for about four months. She’s beautiful, smart, hilarious, and the kindest person I have ever met.” Mason smiled talking all about our relationship. “Who is,” Troy asked sitting down near the younger guys lacing up his skates. 

“Mase was just telling us about his girlfriend,” Jamie responded before Trevor could tease their friend again. “Girlfriend? If you have a girlfriend why do you still look terrible when you show up for games,” Cam asks elbowing him. “Haha. You guys are hilarious. Seriously why aren’t you comedians,” he mumbles standing up and walking out of the locker room and onto the ice. The whole entire practice the guys chirped the younger center. He was starting to get annoyed.

Mason was never one to brag about anything. Never about his hockey skills, his awards and accomplishments, or who he was dating. He said he was the luckiest guy in the world to even have a chance with me. I argued with him constantly that I was the lucky one. After being treated the way I was, I was sure I would never find someone who only wanted me. But Mason made me feel like the only person in the world.

“So what does this so-called girlfriend of yours look like,” Z asks throwing an arm around his shoulder when they walked out of the Honda Center. He pushed his friend off and shrugged. “She’s really pretty, she has the sweetest smile and the kindest eyes,” he says proudly. “Geez what romcom did you steal that shit from,” Trevor jokes laughter spreading through the parking lot. “Ignore him Mac, we all do. What is her name,” Troy asked trying to find out more because he knew Dani would have so many questions. The Terry family has become very close to the younger player and Dani has tried to set him up a couple times.

“Her name is Y/n,” Mason says throwing his stuff in the trunk trying to get home and shower before I got there. He always tried to have everything done before we hung out so we could spend all the time together. With our busy careers and traveling it was hard to see each other. We had been on more FaceTime dates than real ones. “Does she not have a last name? Is she like Cher or Madonna,” Cam asks leaning against Trevor’s Bronco which was parked next to his car. “Of course she does. Look as much fun as this is playing 150 questions I need to go. I already don’t see her enough as it is and I’m not wasting any more time with you idiots,” he says getting in the car and driving to his place.

After showering and making the living room more comfortable, the doorbell rang. Mason all but ran to the door. He picked me up and spun me around. My laughter filled the hallway and probably annoyed some of the neighbors. “And here I was worried you didn’t miss me,” I joke placing a quick kiss on his lips when he set me back down. I pull back and go to walk into the apartment but he pulls me back in. His hands quickly find their place on my hips while mine go to his neck playing with the tiny curls. His hands wander down closer and closer to my ass and I pull away laughing. “Mase, as much as I would to continue this let’s go inside,” I smile leading the boy in.

After closing the door his lips are back on mine. This kiss was short and sweet. “You done,” I tease rasing an eyebrow. He leans down one more time and then says,” I am now.” We settled on the couch and dug into to the food I brought over. “How was practice today,” I ask nuzzling deeper into his side. “It was good, fine. So tell me all about the tour,” he changed the subject so I knew something was going on. I sat up and turned to face him. “You okay baby,” I look at him waiting for an answer. “Yeah. It's just the guys are giving me shit about you. I didn’t tell them who you were, so they think I made you up. I can’t tell you how many I have a girlfriend she just goes to different schools jokes,” he lets it all out. Something he found himself doing very easily now.

“Oh, Mase. I am so sorry. This is all my fault,” I say putting my hands on his face. “Hey no it’s not baby okay? Trevor and Jamie can’t even get girlfriends. Troy and Cam actually have wives, but they just don’t understand our situation,” he says wiping the tears that fell, no matter how hard I tried to hold them in. “It’s not fair to you,” I whisper crying more and more. He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “Hey Y/n, look at me okay,” he says and I finally look up at him. “There’s my pretty girl,” he smiles,” if it meant I got to love you I would listen to Trevor go on and on for a thousand years no stop. So don’t be sorry about this. I agreed to keep it quiet too,” his words about his teammate made me laugh.

Mason and I fell asleep on the couch that night, all snuggled up to each other. We both woke up with terrible back pain and he had a small creek in his neck. We spent the whole morning glued to each other’s sides. “I should get going,” I sigh leaning my back against his chest while washing the dishes. “No you don’t,” he says into my neck, his facial hair tickling me. “Mase, I know. I wanna stay but I have no clothes to wear,” I say drying the last plate and turning around facing him. “I mean do you really need clothes,” he says and I swat his chest. He laughs and hugs me tighter.

“I haven’t seen Binx in two months. He probably thinks I abandoned him,” I say thinking of the small black cat I had waiting for me at home. My roommate was taking care of him while we were on tour. “Okay I guess I can share you,” he sighs giving me one last kiss and watching me get into my car and drive off. About an hour later he hears a knock on the door. He opens it to find Trevor, Jamie, and Max standing at his front door. He groans and walks back inside, letting the guys come in on their own. “What’s wrong Mase? Did you spend the night with your girlfriend,” Trevor uses air quotes around the last word of his sentence. “Z leave him alone. Mason please for the love of everything just show him a picture of you two.” Jamie says wanting Trevor to shut up.

“I can’t. We don’t really have any pictures together,” Mason says his face flashing red. “Okay c’mon. You expect me not to chirp him now,” Trev says receiving a small smack to the chest from Max. “Mason, you don’t have any pictures with your girlfriend of eight months, you won’t tell us her last name, and gave us actually no physical description of her. You gotta see where Tweedledumb is coming from,” Jamie says. “I don’t owe you guys anything okay? So just drop it or leave,” he finally snaps sick of being the butt of the joke.

The guys shut up and spent the rest of the day playing video games and goofing off. “Oh, Dani asked me to pass on a message. She wanted you to invite Y/n to the team barbeque at their house on Friday,” Jamie says to Mason as the three guys are leaving. Mason rolls his eyes. “I’m not teasing you Mase okay? If you say you have a girlfriend I believe you,” Jamie says giving his shoulder a squeeze as he walks out. The rest of the night Mason thought about how he wished we could go to the party together.

Thursday came faster than he wanted it to. “Okay, so McTavish you are still bringing drinks tomorrow right,” Troy asks trying to help Dani plan the party. “Yep,” the younger boy responds. “You okay dude,” Troy asks sitting down and patting the spot next to him. “It’s just I really wanted Y/n to come tomorrow. I’m so sick of the guys giving me a hard time. But she has some work thing and her boss told her if she didn’t show up she would be fired. And her job is everything to her so obviously she isn’t coming. I may have overreacted and started a fight with her last night,” Mason explained to his older teammate.

“I just don’t see why you can’t show up for an hour. They won’t tell anyone I swear,” Mason says raising his voice slightly due to his frustration. “Mason you know I can’t miss this event. It’s Good Morning America. It’s not like I’m saying no for a nail appointment. It’s my job,” I sigh tired of having to explain myself again. “Are you embarrassed of me,” his voice cracks. I turn and see tears filling up his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about,” I asked walking closer to him trying to grab his hand. He stepped away from me. My heart broke a little when he did this.

“I mean I’m not some hot rich douchebag actor, which means your management doesn’t want you to be seen with me,” his feelings were hurt when I mentioned management advised me to keep my relationship a secret. They wanted to play the heartbroken angsty idea for better sales. “That is not my fault,” I yell back at him hurt that he brought up my ex. “Well if they know best why don’t I just make it easier for you then. If I’m not good enough in their eyes, why would I be in yours? So I’m leaving,” he says turning towards the door. “Mason no wait,” I rush towards him grabbing his arm.

“Let go Y/n,” he grits his teeth at me trying to hold back his anger. “Don’t do this please,” I cry dropping his hand. “I love you, baby. I really do but I can’t keep making myself feel worthless and like shit because they don’t think I’m good for your brand,” he says kissing my head and walking out of my apartment. 

“Wow, that is a lot to take in,” Troy said looking over at him. “Shit sorry. You have real stuff going on, forget I said anything alright,” Mason rushed out throwing stuff into his bag. “Mase no wait I wanna help you. I just don’t know how,” he says trying to stop my boyfriend from leaving. “I’ll be over around five tomorrow,” Mason smiles and heads home. He cries himself to sleep for the second night in a row.

I wasn’t doing much better than Mason, not that I knew how he was doing. He hadn’t spoken to me since he left me crying in my doorway. “If you keep crying this makeup is gonna take longer,” Morgan says passing me a tissue. She was a nice older lady who was always sharing a story with me. “Sorry, I’m making your job harder. Seems like that’s all I’ve been doing recently,” I mumble wiping my eyes. “Well not that you asked me, but I think if you are this tore up about him, he may just be worth it,” she smiles giving my shoulders a squeeze. “He is worth it and some more,” I say looking at her eyes in the mirror.

“So what’s the problem hunny,” her question makes me wonder. “Management said if I missed today I might as well never come back. And we are up for a contract renewal next month so,” I say trailing off. “Well I know I’m just an old makeup artist but I have been around a while. And if I learned anything, it’s that if you listen to other people your whole life you won’t even recognize your own voice So all you have to do is find your voice in all that voice and listen to it sweetheart,” she smiles down at me when my manager walks in rushing me to the sound stage. As I am standing waiting for our cue to start singing, I start thinking about everything.

When I was a little girl I din’t dream of selling out stadiums and having hit songs. I dreamed of having a love as pure as my parents. A love that was between two best friends. A love that was solely theirs. I had that with Mason and I let all the noise around me confuse me. I look over to my left and see my bandmates all smiling over at me. They nod their heads and mouths go. I say thank you and rush out to the street trying to find a cab. I could hear everyone yelling at me to stop but I could only hear my own voice, telling me to go find Mason.

As I waited to get off the plane in California I looked up some Ducks players on Instagram. I finally found Tory Terry and sent him a message explaining everything. I sent some pictures of Mase and I to prove I wasn’t lying. I got a message back quickly from him sending me the address of his house. I knew Mason was going to the party and I just hoped he would be happy to see me. His phone had been off all day so he hadn’t seen the dozens of news reports and articles about how I ran out today.

The party had been going on for about an hour when a couple guys gathered around and started talking. “Oh my god. Did you guys see that Y/n L/n from that really popular band just walked off stage on GMA this morning? Her management says they have no clue where she went or why she left,” Trevor says pulling out his phone showing everyone the article. Mason froze and snatched the phone from him. He quickly read the article and then pulled up another. “Dude what are you doing,” Trevor asks grabbing his phone back. Mason turned around to leave and try and find me when I stepped out of the back door with Troy and his wife Dani. 

We stood there staring at each other scared to make the first move. “Mase, I am so sorry,” I cry out and he rushes forward pulling me into his chest. “Shhh baby I know. It’s not your fault okay? I said some terrible things and hope you can forgive me,” he says into my hair ignoring all the looks from his teammates. I pull back and nod my head. “Of course I forgive you. I love you Mason,” I smile up at him. “Why did you do this? That band is your dream and you threw it away for me,” he asked wiping my tears away. “That was never my dream Mase. It was just a job. A job that was not worth losing you over,” I say grabbing his wrist with my hands. “If you don’t kiss her I will,” I hear some yell behind us. I laugh and pull him down into a kiss.

We pull apart and Mason introduces me to everyone as his girlfriend. "Told you she was real," he teased Trevor who blushed and stuttered. We both had huge smiles on our faces and didn’t leave each other’s sides for the whole party. My phone was constantly going off but I ignored it all. The only thing that mattered right now was beside me and I wasn’t going to let it slip away.  

[just-dino-maggie]

Hi! Could you do maybe an angsty blurb for Trevor Zegras?

Maybe something like you and him have been friends forever and you’ve always liked him but never told him. Then you decide to finally tell him and he only sees you as a friend.

Just Friends Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Thank you so much for the request, I don’t usually write angst but I hope you like it!

Trevor and I first met in sophomore year of high school. I was in chemistry with him and some other USNTDP guys. Growing up in the Ann Arbor area then moving to Canton, I’ve seen a lot of these guys pass throughout my life. One of my older brothers played U17’s with USA hockey and my other brothers befriended the USA guys when they came to Michigan. A few of them even dated my friends sisters.

I could never escape them and seeing Trevor in class everyday made me realize that I didn’t want to. Alex Turcotte and I got close after I helped him pass Brit Lit and The guys took me in; especially the Hughes. My older brother was great friends with Quinn already so they were happy to have the both of us over.

Eventually I grew close with crew that was Cole, Trevor, Jack and Alex. I went to all of their games, attended every party. Even though I was always their DD I never minded. I belonged and that was all that mattered to me. I fell easily for Trevor. What is there not to fall for? I’ve always been insecure, introverted in a lot of ways. He noticed me and even flirted with me. I never told anyone but I was head over heels in love with Trevor Zegras

When they all got drafted I thought it was the end. That I was some girl they were happy to entertain in high school but not as they got older. For the most part I was wrong. They all kept in touch and I would join them every year in the summers at the Hughes lake house. I would try to visit all of them, Jack the most because I chose a college in Ohio and he lives in New Jersey.

Now at 22 I’m still friends with all of them. It feels amazing. Well besides with Trevor. Seeing him with other girls makes me want to lock myself away. After too long of not seeing him and Alex I decided to take a surprise trip to California.

I started in Ontario (California), Alex was so excited when I showed up at his door. I forced him not to tell Trevor I was coming. He showed me to all of his favorite spots, I met his teammates. It was wonderful but all I could think about was Trevor.

Now I stand at his door and knock. I can hear rumbling inside like someone is running. The door opens and standing in front of me is a freckled brunette. “Hi, you must be Jamie. I’m Y/n, I’ve heard so much about you.” I try to keep my voice low as a shake his hand. “I’m here to see Trevor.”

“Right your Trevor’s Y/n,” he says with a knowing smile. My stomach flips. I’m so nervous and he just called me Trevor’s. “Z someone’s here for you!” He smiles and leaves me standing at the door.

I look down at my feet until I hear a voice, “Y/n?”

“Hey Trev, long time no see.” I smile and he rushes toward me picking me up into a hug. I hold him like my life depends on it, I’ve missed him so much.

After a minute he puts me down and looks at me like I’m not real. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” He grabs my hand, “Come on let’s go catch up!”

We drive to a coffee shop that he goes to every day, or so I’m told. The whole way there the car is filled with the sound of his voice. Talking my ear off and catching me up on everything that’s going on with him.

When we finally sit down at the coffee shop he orders himself a black iced coffee and a hot chocolate for me. He knows that I don’t like coffee. The waitress keeps hitting on him and he is reciprocating. I sink into my seat. I know how this works. I’ve seen all the other guys act like players but it’s so much worse seeing Trevor do it.

When the waitress finally leaves the table Trevor looks at me. “Hey what’s wrong?” He reaches out to grab my hand but I pull it away.

“Don’t do that.” I say, “Please.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Y/n tell me why you’re upset.”

“Trevor you know, let’s not pretend you don’t.” I lower my voice hoping that it won’t feel as real if I say it quietly. “I’ve loved you for years.”

His eyes widen, “Oh.”

“This was a mistake.” I rush out of the booth heading for the door. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and by the time I’ve hit the parking lot I’m weeping openly.

I can hear Trevor follow me out. I have no where to go so I turn around and face him. “I’m so sorry,” he says and places his lips on my forehead. “I’m so so sorry. I’ve wished I could feel that way for you but I just can’t. I hate that I made you cry please don’t cry.”

He’s pleading and holding my face in hands. My sobs keep flowing, I can’t even open my eyes. “I should leave. I need to go home.”

“I can’t lose you like this. Can’t we just be friends like we always have?”

I look in his tear filled blue eyes. They have hope in them, he doesn’t even know that the words he just said were the most heartbreaking part. We can’t go back to being friends “like we always have”. To me he was everything. He was the sun, the moon, and the stars. We were never just friends.

“You’ll never lose me.” I lie, a beautiful lie I’ve been telling myself for years. Postponing the inevitable. I can’t hold on to something I never had, at least not forever. So I simply hold on for a few more hours as we drive back to his place.

He leaves to grab dinner and I beg Jamie to take me to the airport. I fly away from California without looking back. I feel my heart burst as I block him on everything.

Even amongst all this pain I can’t help but think that someday I will find him again and my broken heart will mend. I will finally be whole. Untill then I will remain as I always have, broken and meaningless. For what has meaning without love?

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 52 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Wren Ridley

Olivia was shaking her leg as she sat in the passenger seat of my car while we looked for Landon.

The action reminded me of her brother, so much so that I actively tried to block her out of my vision.

I got flashes of Landon sitting in that very seat, doing the very same thing while we looked for Olivia one time a while back.

The tables had turned and the stakes were higher.

Landon was out there alone and injured.

Anything could happen to him if we didn't find him.

Driving around town seemed to be useless.

We had no idea of how he had even gotten here.

I drove around town slowly, thoroughly checking the streets, the sidewalks, looking into the woods and people's yards.

We couldn't find him and it was making us both irritable and anxious.

"I think we should go check at the Hanson's place," Olivia had said, and so we did.

No one was home.

All the lights were out and when I knocked on the door, no one came to answer it.

I even walked around back to where Landon's bedroom was in the house and there were no signs that he was in there.

I eventually resorted to calling hospitals in the area to see if he or anyone with his description, had been admitted.

"Hello, I'm just calling to see if someone named Landon Reilly has been admitted," I said to the third hospital.

"I have reason to believe he would be seeking medical attention but he has been unreachable for a couple hours now."

Generally, hospitals could give you a yes or no on if someone was there but they wouldn't be able to tell me anything about his condition if he was actually at the hospital.

"We don't have a patient by that name," the person on the line said.

"If I give a description, can you tell me if any unidentified patients match?" I asked.

"We do not currently have any unidentified patients but give me a description and we'll be on the look out."

So I gave her a description of Landon and left my number with her in case he turned up there.

I sighed, feeling discouraged, and I could tell Olivia was feeling the same.

I leant my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, trying to wrack my brain for anywhere he might be.

"Now what?" Olivia cried, causing me to open my eyes and look at her.

"He could be anywhere. He could be passed out. We need to call the police and tell them he's missing so they can search."

"Hold on, let me call one of his friends at school and see if he's there," I told her, grabbing my phone from the cupholder to call Jess.

Jess answered the phone after two rings.

"What's up?" she answered.

I could tell she was at Stella's.

Stella and James were arguing in the background.

"You haven't happened to hear from Landon within the last couple of hours, have you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Aren't you guys, like, not talking?" Jess asked, skeptical.

"I can't tell you that."

"Jess, this is serious," I urged.

"Something happened. I'm here with his sister and we can't find him."

"Wait, what?" Jess asked, sounding alarmed.

"What happened?"

I didn't want to get into it with her.

I had no idea how much Landon had actually told her about his life and I wasn't about to be the one to explain it all to her.

"Look, he's hurt and missing," I said as calmly as possible.

"I need to know if you've talked to him."

"All he said was that something was going on at home and he needed a ride," Jess explained.

"Chris Rojas from the hockey team let him borrow his car."

The name was familiar.

Landon had mentioned him before.

Chris Rojas was the captain of his hockey team, and apparently his friend.

"Can you give me his number?"

"Yeah, hold on, I'll text it to you."

Once I got the phone number, I called Chris.

It rang for a while then eventually went to voicemail.

"Hello, Chris, this is Wren Ridley," I started.

"I'm here with Landon's sister and we're both very worried because we can't find him, so if you could give me a call back and let me know if you've heard from him, that would be great. Thanks, bye."

I let out another long sigh and put my phone down in the cupholder before putting the car back in drive and pulling away from the curb.

"So now we have to just wait for this guy to call us back?" Olivia asked, looking at me with glossy eyes.

"I guess so," I said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"What was even going on tonight? Why was he there?"

I needed more clarity on the situation and I couldn't bring Olivia back there if it wasn't safe.

Olivia let out a frustrated groan, pulling at her hair.

"It's all my fault," she said, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I wasn't being careful enough and stupid Jimmy found out that I had been talking to Landon and told my dad, so my dad took the iPod Landon gave me and texted Landon pretending to be me and tricked him into coming home to confront him."

"It's not your fault your father is a lunatic," I told her through gritted teeth.

It made me so angry that their father couldn't just let the two of them live.

He had to have control over Olivia, just like he had to have control over Landon when he lived there and now he was angry because he couldn't control Landon anymore but he still tried.

"If I was just more careful, none of this would have happened," Olivia cried into her hands.

"Olivia, listen," I said, gaining her attention.

"This isn't your fault. There is no one to blame for this but your father. We are going to find Landon and he's going to be fine and I know for a fact that he doesn't blame you for any of this."

Olivia sniffled, wiping her face with her hands.

I grimaced.

"I have napkins in the glovebox. Use them," I said.

She rolled her eyes but did as I said anyway.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a few minutes.

"You're going to my house to stay there for the night," I said.

"And I'm going to head back toward Providence to try to find your brother."

"No, I'm coming with you," Olivia snapped, smacking her hand down on the console.

"You can't bench me. I need to find my brother."

"I can't take you to Providence with me. It's getting late and I have nowhere for you to stay there," I argued.

"I don't need anywhere to stay there because we are going to keep looking," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at me like she was daring me to argue back.

I held back another sigh.

It was like talking to my own younger sister.

"Listen, you will be the first person I call if I hear anything, okay?" I assured her.

I couldn't be driving around at odd hours of the night with a fifteen year old girl.

If her parents actually did call the cops that would look all sorts of suspicious and I didn't want to get involved with that.

At least this way she would have a safe place to stay and the cover of it seeming like a sleepover with Fawn.

"I have a sister your age, you know," I told her as she continued staring at me with her eyebrows raised.

"You two are a lot alike. So hang out with her for a bit and I'll come back tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine," Olivia relented, looking down at her lap.

We were quiet for the rest of the ride to my house.

When we pulled up the driveway, most of the lights were out in the house.

The living room light was off but there was a bluish glow from the television.

Fawn's bedroom was right above the living room and her light was still on.

"Come on," I said to Olivia as I shut the car off.

I led her up the driveway and the porch steps before walking into the house.

I walked in the living room to see my parents both looking at the doorway with confused expressions.

"Oh, hello," Dad said with a wave, looking at Olivia.

Mom stood up from the couch and walked over to us.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, her confusion turning into concern.

"This is Olivia, she is going to have a sleepover with Fawn," I said before walking to the stairs.

"Fawn, can you come down here, please."

Two sets of footsteps were heard above the living room and Fawn and Ava came out of the bedroom and stood at the top of the stairs.

"What are you even doing here?" Fawn questioned with a glare.

I motioned for Olivia to come to the stairs.

She came to stand beside me.

Well, she was actually standing a little behind me as if she was scared.

I felt a little bad for her.

She had a rough night but I didn't know how to comfort her.

I was hoping spending time with some girls her age would help her.

"I have a friend for you to add to your little get together, sound good?" I said.

Fawn's glare softened when she saw Olivia and she walked down the steps to meet us at the bottom.

"Sure, we have room for one more," she said, glancing at Olivia.

"Fawn, this is Olivia, Olivia this is Fawn," I introduced, slightly nudging Olivia toward the stairs.

"Wren," Olivia called out, looking back at me like she was wounded.

I put on what I hoped was a genuine smile for her.

"I'll be back tomorrow, I promise," I told her, squeezing her shoulder.

"And I'll have your brother with me."

Olivia nodded and looked back toward Fawn who held out her hand to her.

"Come on, Ava and I were just about to watch a movie," Fawn said, grabbing Olivia's hand.

"You can borrow some of my pajamas," and then Olivia was whisked off by my sister.

"Do you want to explain what's going on?" Mom asked, causing me to turn around and face her.

She wasn't angry but by the look of her she was extremely concerned.

Dad was too but his concern always caused him to shut down a little.

"She just needs a place to stay for now," I said, walking toward her.

"Her home situation isn't good."

"How do you know this girl?" Mom asked.

"She's Landon's sister," I replied, looking down at the floor.

"Landon's hurt and missing."

My mom gasped and my eyes moved from the floor to her.

She held a hand on her chest, her eyes wide.

"It's a long story, I'll tell you some other time," I rushed out, moving toward the door.

"But I really have to go."

"Wren, honey, let us help," Mom said, grabbing my arm.

"You're already helping by letting Olivia stay here," I said with a weak smile.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

I dashed out of the house before she could say anything else.

All my focus now was on finding Landon.

Without Olivia, I could stay out longer and cover more ground without having to worry about getting arrested for kidnapping.

Then once Landon was found, we could figure out what to do about Olivia's living situation.

She couldn't stay there with such an abusive, violent man.

I started my car and backed out of the driveway, continuing my search for Landon.

[hannahsmusings]

Renee

*I had never seen Anthony like this, I had seen every emotion a person could have but this one was new, it was foreign and I didn’t know how to handle it so I was more than happy to walk away, him not necessarily scaring me but it was intense and I knew he needed to figure it out on his own* *I sigh, closing my eyes, all of that bitterness that I carried around with me for so long was finally gone, that heaviness on my shoulders felt lighter now, realizing that I needed to get those words out, I had never expressed them out loud besides to my mom and never to that extent* *I sigh before walking over to the door and cracking it open as I peak out, just wanting to make sure that Ant wasn’t pacing the halls waiting for me, feeling relief as I see the hallway was deserted and I exit, deciding that I just wanted to go home and sleep away this horrible night, feeling utterly embarrassed and just hollow now* *I make my way back to the kitchen, trying to find Aliyah pushing through sweaty drunk bodies* 

*Liam was right by the back door when he saw Anthony all but run outside, his brows furrowing as he watched his friend, his brows knitting together when he sees him throw the glass at the fence, knowing that Ant sometimes held a lot of his rage inside and it came out in this sort of way, it being helpful on the ice during games but not in these sorts of situations when there was liquor involved, figuring that he was just a drunk mess and was going to smoke some and get over it, but he would keep an eye on him until they headed back to the hockey house* *he watched his friend for a while, noticing that he was just sat outside barely moving, seeing the smoke so he knew he was high but usually he rallied by now, but it seemed that his friend was going to wallow all night and that worried him* *he walked over to their other frat brother, Jack, nudging him in the side* Yo, Ant is a fucking mess out there… he just threw a glass so we gotta keep an eye on him, yeah? I don’t know what happened, probably some girl drama.

*I was stood right by two guys in the kitchen as I pulled my phone out, deciding to just text Aliyah and tell her I was heading out, not wanting to be in this too hot and too small house any longer* *my ears perk up when I hear Ant’s name, immediately feeling concerned because he sounded concerned, biting my lip as I turn and see the sliding door right behind us, assuming Anthony was out there and weighing my options, either going out there to console him and make sure he’s actually okay or going home and letting him deal with this shit on his own, closing my eyes, mumbling ‘fucking hell’ under my breath before turning and opening the sliding door, slowly making my way over to the hunched over figure, crossing my arms over my chest since it was chilly and I was just in my dress* You having a fun pity party out here? 

__________________________________

*I was so drunk that rolling a spliff was hard work, hands trembling with all this unexpressed emotion, feeling like I wanted to scream or cry or smash things, hating how that conversation had gone and hating even more that I couldn’t express myself, my thoughts feeling like mud in my head and honestly I just needed to be black out drunk to forget this evening had ever happened* *chugs some more of the whiskey, hissing at the burn before lighting up the spliff and smoking it, immediately knowing it was a bad idea as a wave of dizziness falls over me but I push through, feeling like I deserved to feel this shit as obviously I was a fuck up of a human* *I sit with my thoughts, trying to make sense of things but everything was spinning and I just felt so tired, leaning my head against the wall as I smoke, hearing the door open and slurring out* Go away...*to whoever it was, wanting to be alone and not wanting to deal with any happy people right now, feeling like shit and often retreating when I felt this way* *looks up as I hear your voice, my vision blurred and spinning as I move my head too quickly, wondering whether this was actually happening or whether I’d hallucinated you, fucking hell* Renee? *asks, the hope being clear in my voice even though I tried to hide it* *finally processes your words, frowning and turning away as I shake m head* No. *pouts*

[typical-simplelove]

To Capture a Moment (M. Barzal)

Author's Note: This was a prompt from the ever amazing @thatflyersfan, so thank you for this! The prompt was "taking polaroid photos", and I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, so this is the product! I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you thought either in an ask or in the tags. Enjoy!

Author's Note 2: If you reblog this, I'll send you an ask thank you and mention you in an appreciation post (if I do this!)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, one or two slightly NSFW scenes (but VERY mild), a mention of a breeding kink (literally mentioned in one sentence), marriage, pregnancy, Santa, but the rest is just fluff!

Word Count: 9.3k

Enjoy reading!

If anyone were to walk down the hall of your and Mathew’s hallway of your new home, they would see it lined with polaroid pictures. These polaroid pictures show the relationship between you and Mathew from the young age of five to now sharing your new home, married, and with two children. A hallway that was the epitome of a picture is worth a thousand words.

Age 5

“Mathew, please, just stand next to your sister, please,” Mathew’s mother requests. Her tone was close to begging. Your parents had to deal with a family emergency, so they sent you to the Barzal’s to be babysat. Mathew’s mother decided to take Liana, Mathew, and you to Lafarge Park.

Currently, you are sitting on a bench giggling as you watch Mathew sigh as he gets up from where he was sitting next to you. He groaned as he got up and stood next to his sister. He wraps his arm around her but doesn’t smile. At the touch, Liana screams and begins to cry. It was close to her nap time, and the smallest things were making her fussy. Mathew’s mother sighs and goes to pick up her daughter to try to comfort her. Mathew grins widely and sits back down next to you.

“I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew says bluntly. You look at him but are squinting as the sun is in your eyes.

“You like taking photos in your hockey gear,” you point out.

“Yeah, but I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew emphasizes the word photos as if that were enough explanation. It wasn’t. “You know what I mean?”

“No.”

Mathew gives you a curious look, and you want to point out his hair is getting long, but his mother calls Mathew back over to take the photo.

“But I don’t want to,” Mathew whines.

“Mathew,” she says in a mother’s knowing tone, and Mathew gets up exasperatedly. He stands next to his sister. He opts not to put his arm around her this time and looks at you before the picture is taken. You smile widely at him and wave. Mathew wears a giant grin on his face in response. His mother notices Mathew’s wide smile; she smiles when she realizes you are the reason for Mathew’s smile. She takes the photo quickly knowing that Mathew’s smile is short-lived.

“Yn, come take a photo with Mathew,” she calls to you. You skip over to Mathew. Surprisingly, Mathew doesn’t complain about taking another photo. Then again, though, Mathew never complained about anything when it came to you.

“Mom, can we do the fancy camera? The one that prints out right away?” Mathew asks.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Mathew’s mother says and pulls the polaroid camera out of her purse. Mathew insisted she bring it today, and she guesses this was why. “Smile,” she directs and snaps the photo. Once the photo is printed, she places it in her wallet.

“I’m going to hang it on my wall,” Mathew tells you after the photo is taken and that he did. After he got home later that day from dropping you off at home, Mathew begged his mother for the photo. He tapped it on his wall next to his hockey posters because to him, you were just as important. As Mathew moved around for hockey, that photo always followed him around with a few others. It sat in his wallet, and when he felt homesick, he’d look at it with a wide smile. Now, it sits amongst the many polaroid pictures on your wall.

Age 6

Whenever you and Mathew were together, Mathew’s mother always brought the polaroid camera with her. Mathew always loved taking those kinds of photos with you. In the past year, you and Mathew have taken countless polaroid pictures that lined both your walls and his.

Today, you were sitting in a local hockey arena watching Mathew play. Well, you were watching the empty ice getting ready for warmups. You were wearing one of Mathew’s sweatshirts as you shivered in the cold of the arena. You were clutching the mug of hot chocolate Mathew’s mother gave you in hopes of warming up. When Mathew got on the ice for warmups, you smiled widely. Even at such a young age, seeing Mathew would bring a smile to your face and make you all warm and fuzzy.

You walked towards the glass to get a better look at your best friend. When he skated by you, you tapped softly on the glass to alert him you were there. When Mathew turns to see you, he gives you a giant smile from beneath his helmet. He takes a few moments to stop and looks at you for a moment. Mathew’s mother takes the polaroid camera out of her bag and quickly snaps a photo of the two of you in this exact position.

That photo remains on the Barzal mantle till this day.

Age 7

The annual Christmas Fair was back in Vancouver again, and Mathew was super excited to see Santa this year. He figured that his dream of playing in the NHL would come true as long as he asked Santa for it for every year of his life until it happened.

You were both standing in line waiting to go inside the Fair. Despite being bundled up in your warmest sweater, jacket, gloves, and hat, you were still cold. One would think that after spending copious amounts of time in a hockey arena watching Mathew play, you would be used to the cold, but you weren’t.

“Are you cold, Yn?” Mathew asks concerned. He can see you shivering but trying to hide it.

“Just a little,” you lie.

“Oh, here,” Mathew says and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you in a giant hug to keep you warm. You feel your cheeks warm at the touch, but you, at the age of seven, think it’s just you already warming up. You rest your head on Mathew and wrap your arms around him. “No, keep them in your pockets, so you can keep warm.”

“What about your hands?” you worry.

“Don’t worry, I play hockey; I’m used to the cold,” he reassures you and flashes you his signature grin. Mathew’s mother wasn’t able to capture a polaroid photo of this event, but your mother was able to pull out her phone to capture the moment. Even at the age of 7, Mathew would do absolutely anything for you.

Eventually, yours and Mathew’s families end up inside the fair and in line to see Santa. Now, a hot chocolate in your belly and a warm meal, you were slowly warming up and didn’t need Mathew to hold you anymore. He was bouncing with excitement as you both got closer and closer to the front of the line.

When it was Mathew’s turn to see Santa, he walked up, and you waited in line for your turn. A sudden gust of wind made a giant shiver rack through your body, and Mathew noticed from where he was sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asks.

Mathew looks up at him with worry. “My best friend is cold, and I don’t like it when Yn’s cold. I’d rather be cold instead of Yn.”

“Well, maybe we should finish here quickly, so you can go and make Yn warm. What do you say?”

Mathew nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I like that.”

“So, what do you want, son?”

Mathew looks into Santa’s blue eyes and is about to ask for an NHL career. He then looks at you and sees you shivering. Mathew’s heart stops and realizes that it doesn’t matter if he got the NHL career if you were cold. You couldn’t be cold because if you were cold then you’d get sick. If you were sick, then who would be Mathew’s best friend? “I want Yn not to be sick.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” Mathew nods. “I can’t have my best friend sick because then who would be my best friend.”

“Well, then, I’ll be sure to grant your wish, son,” Santa says. In all his years of doing this, he’s never heard this one before. “Keep Yn close, okay? Yn seems like a special one.”

Mathew always kept those words close to his heart whether or not he remembered who told them to him.

Age 10

For the past ten years, you and Mathew have taken a photo on yours and his birthdays. It was always you on the right and him on the left. Whoever’s birthday it was would be holding the gift the other got them. It was tradition.

It was your tenth birthday, and the day was coming to a close. All your friends had left, and it was just your family and Mathew’s family who were still there. You were on your third piece of cake, and Mathew was trying to convince you to give him a bite, too. He looked nervous.

“Are you okay, Mathew?” you ask after finishing your final piece and giving Mathew a piece.

“I have a gift for you,” he mumbles.

“Oh!” you thought you opened all your gifts.

“Can I give it to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. Mathew gets up to grab the gift, and you throw out the plate in the trash.

“This is for you,” he says and passes the bag to you. You gently take the wrapping paper out of the bag; you set it to the side and pull out the box. You gasp when you see it. You smile and jump up to give Mathew a hug. You wrap your arms around him.

“Thank you for the polaroid camera, Mathew,” you whisper as he wraps his arms around you.

“Of course, Yn. It’s time you had your own, so we could take all the photos we want.”

“Come on, let’s go and get my mom to take a photo of us.”

You and Mathew go and find his mother. When you find her, you take the camera out of the box and hand it to her. You and Mathew position yourself against the wall, and he wraps an arm around you. You hold the box in your hand and smile. Mathew, though, isn’t looking at the camera; he’s looking at you with the widest grin on his face. All that mattered in his life was making you smile. If he made you smile, then Mathew always wore the happiest grin on his face.

Age 13 - Stargazing

Your parents had to go out of town to take care of your grandparents, so you were staying with the Barzals for the weekend. You were both currently laying on in his backyard on a blanket staring at the stars. It was your favorite pastime — laying together looking up at the stars.

You were both lying next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. You turned your head and looked at Mathew, but you looked to find him already looking at you. “It’s pretty,” he says.

“It is,” you agree and turn back to the sky. Mathew, though, remained looking at you.

“Do you have your polaroid camera?”

“Yeah, right next to me. Why?”

“Let’s take a photo,” Mathew answers. He sits up and leans over around you to grab the camera. In the process, Mathew’s arm brushes your stomach briefly, and his face grows warm at the touch. Somewhere, between the ages of 12 and 13, Mathew has developed a crush on you. He didn’t tell anyone because why would he? At this age, Mathew would get teased for having a crush on you, so he didn’t tell anyone. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, too.

Mathew lies back down next to you and rests his head close to yours. He lifts his arm up and positions it so that the both of you are in frame. You both smile, and Mathew presses down the button.

The photo comes out, and Mathew’s heart warms at the picture reflected.

“Can I have my camera? I want a picture of the stars, too,” you ask. He hands you the camera, and his hand brushes yours briefly. You thought nothing of it, but Mathew’s heart was racing. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mathew whispers, and you give him a curious look. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird; you’re acting weird.”

You laugh. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Mathew watched you take a photo of the stars in the sky, and he came to one realization: he never wanted to live in a world where you weren’t there.

Age 16

It was Mathew’s 16th birthday, and you were sitting on a garden chair watching him have the time of his life with his friends. As you both started high school, you both found yourself in different friend groups. That wasn’t to say, however, that your friendship wavered. It just meant that you both weren’t next to each other all the time. You were okay with that new realization. You were okay with it because that meant that you could work through your new found feelings for Mathew. You didn’t know when it happened. One day, you were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, with normal hair and normal eyes and a normal laugh. You were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, who was normal looking. The next day, though, you were eating lunch with Mathew who had the most beautiful smile, the most beautiful eyes, the softest hair, and was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was no longer the boy you grew up with. He was Mathew, and you finally understood what all the girls were talking about. It was difficult for you to breathe around him because you wanted him to hold your hand and love you. It went from Mathew being your best friend to you loving Mathew as more than a friend, and it scared you.

You were sitting there smiling when Mathew caught your gaze. He looked you in the eyes and waved. You waved back and warmth filled you. He excused himself from his friends and walked over to where you were sitting.

“You brought the polaroid camera,” he says as he brings a chair next to yours and sits.

“Well, we’ve taken the same photo for the past sixteen years. We might as well continue tradition, right?” you tease.

“Yeah, tradition,” he whispers giving you a look that makes you melt. He leans his head close to yours with a soft smile. “Can I tell you something?”

You nod trying to suppress a shiver.

“Somewhere in the past —”

“Yn, can I borrow your polaroid camera, please?” Liana interrupts as if knowing what Mathew was going to say. You tell her yes, and you see Mathew, out of the corner of your eye, blush and shake his head while also glaring at his sister.

“Um, you were saying?” you ask hoping to rebuild the bubble you both just had.

Mathew looks at you trying to figure out if he wants to continue. “Um, somewhere in the past five or six years or so, I screwed up.”

“Screwed up, how?”

“I fell for you,” Mathew whispers, a blush overcoming his face.

“But, you’re sitting right now,” you say oblivious.

Mathew laughs his laugh, and you melt into a puddle. “I fell in love with you, Yn.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Mathew laughs again with a bashful smile settling on his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”

“Are you still sorry if I were to tell you I fell in love with you, too?”

“I wouldn’t be sorry, then,” Mathew says and leans his head close to yours. He takes one hand and cups your cheek. He rubs soft patterns on your cheek as he begins to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you beg. Mathew places his lips on yours softly as your hands go to his neck and begin to softly playing the hair at its base. It was a kiss full of fireworks. All the noises around you mellowed out. All the emotions you feel for your best friend come out in one kiss as it deepens. You both pull away when a flash from a camera startles you both.

“Sorry, I just had to,” Liana apologizes, handing you back your camera with the photo printing.

“You didn’t have to,” Mathew grumbles angrily.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” you tell her, taking back the camera. You look at the photo and smile. Mathew was gently holding your face as he kissed you softly. You both had wide smiles on your faces as you kissed each other. “See, we have a photo of our first kiss.”

Mathew kisses your forehead softly. “Here’s to many more.”

Age 18

“Yn, come outside, please?” Mathew begs with a pout on his face. “I want to take a photo with you.”

“But we’ve been taking photos all day,” you groan. It was reaching 9pm at night, and the joint graduation party for you and Mathew was over. You were both lounging on your bed reminiscing about the future. Mathew was going to have this amazing NHL career, and you were going to college.

“I just want this one,” Mathew says as he gets off the bed. He looks at the many polaroid photos sitting on your wall of both your family, friends, and him. He was in most of them. He picks up your polaroid camera and grins at you. “Please? My parents bought sparklers, and we haven’t used them yet.”

You get up because Mathew could get you to do anything as long as he gave you that grin. “Okay.”

Mathew takes your hand and leads you both downstairs. “Liana, can you take a photo of us?”

“More photos?” she asks. Liana was just as fed up with taking pictures, too. “Yn, how do you put up with him?”

You shrug with a smile. “It’s easy when I love him.”

“I love him, too, but I can’t put up with him,” Liana mumbles following you both out the door. Mathew inquires about the sparklers and is directed to his mother’s car. You and Liana stand out in your backyard. “What kind of photo does he want?”

“I’m not sure, but I know he wants a polaroid photo.”

“He’s obsessed with those,” Liana comments as Mathew walks up to you two. He hands the polaroid camera to Liana and ushers you over to where he wants to stand. He takes two sparklers out of the box and hands one to you.

“I want to kiss you as we hold the sparklers,” Mathew mumbles against your skin. His words sent shivers down your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper as Mathew lights yours and his sparklers. He looks at you with a wide smile and wraps the arm that’s not holding the sparkler around your waist. You wrap your arm that’s not holding the sparkler across his shoulder and lean in for a kiss. “Liana, take the photo when we kiss, please.”

Liana makes a comment about how disgusting the two of you are before saying an “okay.”

Mathew leans in with a smile and kisses you. You kiss him back with a smile just as wide closing the space between you two. You see the flash out of the corner of your eye and pull away slowly to set the sparkler out. When they’re out, Mathew pulls you in for another kiss full of love and passion. He never gets enough of kissing you; if it were up to him, he’d kiss you for every moment of every day.

“The photo’s ready,” Liana interrupts, not wanting to watch her brother kiss anyone even if it were you. You both separate breathlessly and observe the photo. He wraps his arms around you and settles your back against his front. He rests his head against yours and holds you tightly against his chest.

“We look cute, babe,” Mathew whispers into your ear. You look into his eyes and break out into a smile.

“We do look cute,” you agree. You were about to say something else, but the flash of the polaroid camera interrupts your words.

“Sorry,” Liana apologies. “You guys just looked really cute.”

Mathew kisses your cheek, and his heart bursts with love. He loved you so much that there were no words. From where they were sitting on the back porch, your parents and Mathew’s parents were looking on with love. You and Mathew were perfect for each other, and they knew that your relationship would stand the test of time.

Age 21

You were in New York for the first time during the hockey season. In past times you’ve been in New York, it was either before the season or after the season. This was the first time that your school schedule lined up perfectly with a chance to go see Mathew play on Long Island. You met the WAGs for the first time tonight, and you instantly loved them and them the same. You were currently standing next to Sydney, who took you under her wing, at the glass as warmups just began. You had your new polaroid camera and ready to snap one of Mathew.

“Do you and Mathew have a strong connection to a polaroid camera?” Sydney asks.

You nod with a smile. “Yeah. For as long as I can remember, we’ve always taken photos with a polaroid camera. We have millions of photos together.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them. Mathew displays them proudly across his apartment. He loves them, but he loves you more,” Sydney teases.

You don’t reply except for smiling bashfully and shaking your head playfully. You were about to say something when Mathew interrupted you by bumping into the boards in front of you. He looks at you, and his heart grows a million sizes seeing you wearing his jersey. You smile when you see him and wave. He begins to show off in front of you with his stick handling. You shake your head playfully at his actions, but you use the opportunity to snap a photo of Mathew. It’s of him concentrating on the puck. You tuck it into your purse to observe later on.

“Did you want me to take one of the two of you?” Grace asks, who was on the other side of you and has also taken you under her wing.

“Would you? That’d be great.”

“Of course,” she says and takes the camera from you.

“Can Grace take a photo of us?” you ask Mathew. You were suddenly nervous that he was going to be embarrassed of your tradition.

“That would be amazing,” he tells you genuinely. He leans against the glass on his side, and you do the same on your side, smiling at Grace. Once the photo is taken, you, once again, put it in your purse to look at later. Mathew waves before rejoining the rest of his team.

“You guys are cute,” Sydney comments with a smile.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” Grace comments and both girls laugh. You put the camera in your purse, and you smile as the heat rushes to your face. Indeed, to be young and in love.

Later that night, you and Mathew were sitting on his couch when you pulled out the polaroids from the day. Mathew looks at the polaroid that you took of him without him knowing and blushes. You notice it and kiss his cheek.

“You look good, babe,” you tease.

“Yeah, but this one is better,” he says pointing to the photo Grace took of you. His hold on you tightens as he rests his head on the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you giggle as Mathew’s breath tickles you.

“Because you’re in it,” Mathew flirts.

“Shut up,” you say bashfully as the warmth reaches your face.

“It’s true,” he whispers. “I’m not ready for you to go back to school. I want you here forever.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure. “After I graduate, I’m going to get a job here in New York, and we’ll be here forever together. Don’t worry; you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathew says and places a kiss on your cheek.

Age 22

Mathew is sitting next to your father with a bouquet of flowers and your polaroid camera on his lap. Mathew’s leg is bouncing as he anxiously waits for your name to be called. It was finally your graduation day. You’ve been working hard for the past four years, and it was finally paying off. Mathew was so proud of you, and he was so happy that he got to be here at his super smart, super beautiful girlfriend’s graduation day.

A name a few before yours was called, and Mathew and your family perked their attention to be ready when you were called. In moments, your name was called, and you were walking across the stage. Mathew and your family all stood up to cheer for you. Mathew put the flowers down on his chair and put the camera up to take a photo. He snapped one exactly as you were handed your diploma. He put the photo in his wallet with the same one from when you were five.

As you were walking across the stage, you caught Mathew’s eyes, and he winked at you. You smiled bashfully, and as you sat, you felt the warmth on your face. The rest of the celebration went by quickly as you all threw your caps in the air and cheered. You were done! You finished! You were officially a college graduate! You said tearful goodbyes and congratulations to your friends before making your way to your family and Mathew.

Mathew stood to the side as your grandparents, parents, and siblings embraced you and congratulated you. He could see the impatience in your eyes as you greeted each and everyone of them, wanting to greet Mathew. As you hugged your grandparents after your parents, your mother walked over to Mathew.

“Hand me the polaroid camera. I’ll take a few as she comes over to you,” your mother says, and Mathew hands her the camera.

Finally, finally, it was Mathew’s turn to see you. “Congratulations,” he says to you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“These are for you,” Mathew says and hands you the flowers. You both vaguely notice the flash of the camera as your mother took a photo of Mathew handing you the flowers. You take the flowers and smile behind them embarrassed. One of your siblings takes the flowers from you, so you can properly embrace Mathew. He wraps you in a giant hug and kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I can’t believe that my girlfriend is a college graduate,” Mathew comments as you pull away to look at him. He leans his head down and kisses you softly. You reach your hands to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you. You both deepen the kiss but not too much as your father was right there watching you two. As you and Mathew kiss, you both, once again, vaguely recall a flash of the polaroid camera. It didn’t matter. When you both were together, especially kissing, the entire world faded away. Finally, you both pull away with breathless smiles.

A few weeks later, you were both back home in Coquitlam, and it was nearing the end of your graduation party. Mathew was sitting on the back deck with his parents, Liana and your dad as the night winded down. In your hand, you held the two photos your mother took and wanted to show Mathew.

“Mind if I steal him for a moment?” you ask resting your hand on Mathew’s shoulder.

“Please, he keeps talking about you, and it’s making me sick,” Liana says. Everyone laughs in response, and you take Mathew’s hand and lead him away from the group.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I want to show you the photos from graduation,” you tell him. “The polaroids.”

You and Mathew find a spot in the backyard and sit. Mathew sits first and opens his legs for you to sit in between. You rest with your back against his chest, and his arms reach around your waist to hold you tightly. He kisses the side of your cheek as you show him the photos.

“Here’s the first one,” you say and show him one. It’s the photo of Mathew handing you the bouquet of flowers. Smiles are adorned on both your faces, and Mathew’s eyes are laced with nothing but love for you. “We look good.”

“You always say that,” Mathew teases.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you reply looking at your boyfriend of many, many years.

He kisses your temple. “What’s the next one?”

You flip to the next photo and show it to him.

“Now this one, this one, we look good,” Mathew says, giving you a raised eyebrow. It was a photo of Mathew giving you your congratulatory kiss.

“We do look good,” you comment with a smile.

Mathew was contemplating on whether or not to tell you about the photo he took of you while you walked across the stage. He opted against it wanting to keep the photo to himself for the moment. “This is our thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘our thing’?” you ponder.

“You know, all couples have their thing. This is our thing, taking polaroid photos,” Mathew explains.

“I guess it is,” you hum. “It’s not a bad ‘thing’ to have.”

“It really isn’t,” Mathew says and kisses you. He will be forever indebted to his mother for starting this tradition that the two of you have.

Age 24

On your first night after moving to New York, Anthony and Mathew insisted on taking you out to celebrate. You were tired, though, from unpacking and settling in all day, so you told them you didn’t want to do anything crazy. Why was Anthony tagging along? You didn’t know. He was there to help unpack, and he said you three should celebrate, so here you were.

You let Anthony and Mathew pick what they wanted to do as you showered and unpacked your stuff in the washroom. You walked out freshly showered to Mathew and Anthony having wide smiles on their faces.

“What if we took you to Times Square?” Mathew says. He walks over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. You hum in response, but Mathew isn’t sure if it's from the hug or agreeing with going to Times Square. You wrap your arms around him and breathe in his scent. You missed his scent before you moved in with him. You spent a few years back home with a job before you moved to New York. You wanted to be on your own for a bit before making the trek across the continent.

Anthony clears his throat to signal that you and Mathew weren’t the only two in the room. You both pull away, and Mathew’s face is crimson red as he meets his friend’s eyes. “So, Times Square, yes or no?”

“Sure, but not too late because I’m tired,” you reply. Getting to Manhattan from Mathew’s, no your apartment, Long Island apartment was long. You told them the train would be easier, but Mathew and Anthony would rather drive, so driving it was. The entire night was a blur. You were tired and exhausted, and the ecstasy you felt from being in the City with your boyfriend, finally, was too much to handle. You were over the moon overjoyed.

The three of you stopped for a moment in the main square of Times Square, and you looked around in awe. Mathew was watching you with nothing but love in his eyes as you took in the sight. He spent every night over the past few years wishing and dreaming of the nights and days he’d get to have you by his side. Anthony, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes at his best friend’s love sick nature.

“Did you bring your polaroid camera?” Mathew whispers into your ear.

“Yes, why?” you ask with a smile on your face that makes Mathew melt into a puddle.

“Let’s get Beau to take a photo for us.”

You watch as Mathew asks Anthony to take a photo of the two of you; you giggle quietly as Anthony rolls his eyes but says yes. Mathew walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. Anthony holds the camera up as you and Mathew smile for him. However, instead of looking at the camera, Mathew is looking down at you as you smile at the camera. He’s looking at you, the love of his life and the light of his life. Anthony snaps the photo but rolls his eyes at the lovesickness of his best friend. The photo prints, and you throw it into your purse to look at later. You continue to explore the awakeness of the Big Apple with your hand in Mathew’s. You fell in love with the city, and you were excited to be living in the lively state of New York.

Later that night, you’re getting ready for bed and standing at your dresser in the bedroom. You set your purse on it and take the polaroid camera out. Next, you take the photo out of your wallet and look at it. You smile at you and Mathew in the photo. As you’re looking, Mathew walks out of the washroom with his sweats hanging low on his hips without a shirt on and wraps his arms around you. He holds you close against his bare chest and rests his head on your shoulder breathing in your comforting and familiar scent.

“What’re you looking at?” he asks in a low husky voice that sends chills down your spine.

“The photo from tonight,” you say in a low voice as Mathew pulls you closer into his body. “You didn’t even look at the camera.”

“It’s a waste of time to stare at a camera when the best part of my life is right there,” Mathew flirts. He kisses your neck in between words pulling a soft whimper from you.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teasingly scoff. You rest the photo on the dresser and turn around, so you’re facing Mathew. You rest your arms on his shoulders and feel the expanse of the muscles there. You watch as Mathew’s eyes begin to darken and fill with need and desire.

“How else am I supposed to keep my girl satisfied?” he smirks.

“I can think of a few ways,” you tell him confidently before closing the space and placing a kiss on his lips. Mathew instantly picks you up, and you yelp slightly at the sudden touch. He carries you to the bed and places you down slowly. In between kisses, you tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anyone or anything in the world,” he replies. One day, he knew that he’d be getting Anthony to take a photo of the two of you with an engagement ring on your left hand.

Age 25

Engagement Party

Four months after you moved to New York, Mathew proposed to you. He got down on one knee during a date-night at home. You knew something was up when Mathew was nervous the entire night. You, obviously, said yes to forever with your best friend and the love of your life.

Now eight months later, Mathew’s family was throwing you both a small engagement party to celebrate the engagement about a month before your wedding. It was just both of your immediate families and close friends. You didn’t invite many people knowing the majority of the important people in your life would be flying to Vancouver for the wedding in about a month.

You were wearing a white sundress that made you feel like the bride that all movies and books describe. You were surrounded by your family, but most importantly, you were celebrating getting married to your best friend and love of your life.

It was getting late, and you were sitting on Mathew’s lap. You were resting your head on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped around yours. The steady breathing from him and his warmth led to you falling asleep. He was tracing small patterns on your hip as he continued to talk to the small group of people around you. At some point, you heard Mathew tell someone to grab his sweater, and he threw it over your shoulders. You were so tired and didn’t tell him you were cold, but he just knew.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you just did. No one noticed you were asleep until someone asked you a question, and you didn’t respond. Mathew looked down at you and noticed that you were sleeping. You looked adorable and comfortable in his arms. Mathew’s heartbeat quickened as he realized that he got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms. He got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms who looked so at rest, so beautiful, and so happy.

Liana quietly gets up to grab your polaroid camera from your purse. She knew that you’d want to have this documented.

“Get used to this, Mathew,” your dad began. “Yn will be falling asleep in your arms like this forever.”

Mathew smiled at your father’s words and rested his head against yours. He’d be more than okay with that. Liana didn’t tell Mathew he was going to take a photo. She knew that you’d far rather that the photo was candid and not scripted. Liana approached the group quietly and snapped a photo. Mathew was too absorbed in holding you that he didn’t notice. Liana left the photo on your nightstand where you found it the next morning. You smiled at the photo when you saw it knowing you weren’t making a mistake with who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Wedding Day

You woke up the night after your wedding day curled into Mathew’s bare chest. You opened your eyes and a wide smile erupted across your face. You ran your fingers along Mathew’s stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat when you caught sight of your wedding band on your left finger.

“Morning, baby,” Mathew says in his morning voice that still makes your heart flutter. He runs his left hand across your back, and his wedding band sends chills down your spine.

“Did you know that we got married last night?” you ask sweetly.

He gives you a low chuckle. “Yes, I do know that.”

You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both lay in bed for a while in silence before Mathew says anything again. “Liana gave me the photos she took on the polaroid last night.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. You and Mathew put Liana in charge of taking a few polaroid photos of the two of you knowing she’d be the best one to do so. Mathew also roped in Anthony, but you both had more faith in Liana.

You sit up against the headboard as Mathew gets up and grabs the envelope that Liana gave him before you both left the previous night. Mathew pulls you against him as he rests against the headboard, too, and hands you the photos. You look in the envelope and notice six photos.

You pull out one and smile at it. It was your first dance with Mathew. Liana took the photo perfectly just as the song was coming to a close and Mathew was twirling you with your dress splaying out around you. Mathew had nothing but love in his for his new wife and a giant smile on his;he had tunnel vision when he looked at you. The entire world faded away except for you. You remember Mathew placing a kiss on you just as you reentered his embrace. Your heart was beating through your chest as Mathew and you continued to dance to the remainder of the song.

“We look good,” you tell him, showing him the photo. Mathew grabs the photo from your hand and is careful to only hold the corners. You’ve been on his case many, many times about not smudging the photo.

“You look good, babe,” Mathew corrects. “You always will look better than me.”

You smile bashfully at your husband’s words and smile into his chest. He tightens his grip around you before grabbing the envelope, placing the photo in it, and grabbing another. He smiles at the photo of him and his mother dancing together. “Look, it’s your mother-in-law,” he comments.

You look at the photo and smile. “Indeed it is.”

“Is it weird that she’s officially your mother-in-law?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s different, but not weird. Your mom has always been in my life, so it’s not like I don’t know her. Is it weird that my parents are your in-laws?”

“Yes, absolutely. The amount of stares that your father has given me? He never scared me when we were growing up, but in the past few years, he has.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. He’s just being protective of his child.”

“It better be just that,” Mathew mumbles. You grab another photo from the envelope and smile at the photo of you and your dad dancing together. Both yours and your father’s eyes had tears in their eyes knowing that this was it. This was what you both knew was coming but weren’t ready for. You were starting a life with Mathew and forming your new family, and your father was losing his child to the man who loves you as much as he does.

You put the photo back in the envelope and grab the next one. It was the photo of the kiss after the officiant said, “you may now kiss your bride.” You and Mathew both had wide smiles on your faces as you leaned in for the first kiss as a married couple. You remember how eager Mathew was to kiss you and how much he needed to kiss you. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how he goes on long roadtrips without kissing you. Mathew’s hands were sitting on your waist under the edges of your veil with his gold wedding band reflecting the light of the ceremony’s venue. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders with the light reflecting off your grandmother’s tennis bracelet, your something old, and Mathew’s grandmother’s gold bracelet, your something borrowed. The space between you two was non-existent as you both needed to be as close as possible to kiss. You and Mathew both had a professional photographer at the wedding, but there was something more special about the photo being taken by someone who you loved.

The fifth photo is of you and Mathew giving each other a bite of your wedding cake after biting it. You both opted for a traditional two-tiered cake with white fondant and flowers around the base. Mathew had his left arm on your waist, your veil taken off to preserve it, with his right hand holding a fork close to your mouth. You had your dominant hand resting on his chest with your nondominant hand with a fork in it to feed Mathew a piece of cake. You both were looking in each other’s eyes but midlaugh. You couldn’t remember what he said that made you laugh so hard, but you did.

The six and final photo Liana took was of your send off. To reminisce from your high school graduation party, you and Mathew opted for a sparkler send off. Sure, it was cliche but much of your relationship with Mathew was a cliche. You and Mathew were standing in front of his car as your family and friends held sparklers cheering for you all. Mathew had his hands cupping your face and giving you a kiss with a wide smile on his face. You had your arms in his hair holding him close to you. It was a perfect ending for the day of your dreams with the man of your dreams starting the life of your dreams.

“I can’t wait to see all the professional photos,” you tell him as you put the envelope on the nightstand.

“Who really needs professional photos?”

“I mean, we have all those polaroids from growing up but not many from last night, so we do?”

Mathew looks at you and smiles. “I guess we do.”

The professional photos were exactly what you were hoping for. Each time you looked at them, your heart beat just a tad faster and your stomach did somersaults. Mathew always did have that effect on you.

Honeymoon

After the wedding of your dreams, you and Mathew were off to Paris for a honeymoon of your dreams. Sure, it was very cliche, but, again, everything about yours and Mathew’s relationship was a cliche.

It was halfway through the trip when it dawned on Mathew that you both didn’t have a polaroid photo together. He was shocked to say the least when he realized it. That same day, you and Mathew were heading to the Eiffel Tower, and Mathew figured it was the best opportunity for a photo op, so he threw the camera into your purse and made a mental promise to get a photo of the two of you.

You and Mathew purchased your tickets and took the elevator to the top of the tower. On the descent, you and Mathew got off on the second level to get more pictures opting to take the steps down. You were looking at the Parisian skyline with Mathew holding you against his chest. Your arms were crossed against your chest with Mathew’s arms on top of yours. The metal of his wedding band sending shivers down your spine.

“Can we take a photo?” Mathew mumbles against your ear.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. You aren’t sure why you whispered, but you didn’t want to break the intimate moment.

“I’ll go find someone to take it for us. Polaroid, right?”

You smile softly. “Yeah.”

Mathew asks one of the working attendants to take a photo for you two. You hand the polaroid camera to the attendant. You and Mathew take the same position you were just in; however, now, you were both facing away from the skyline. You smile for the camera, but, as usual, Mathew isn’t looking at the camera but at you.

“Your husband wasn’t looking at the camera, would you like me to retake it?” the attendant asks.

You laugh softly. “No, that’s okay. Thank you.”

The attendant walks away as you look at the photo. “Why don’t you ever look at the camera? We rarely have any photos of us — polaroid or digital — where you look at the camera.”

“I think I’ve said this already, Yn, but there’s no need to look at the camera when all I want to look at is you.”

You smile and shake your head playfully at your husband. “Okay, smooth talker, take a photo of me?”

“Gladly.”

Mathew took way too many pictures of you on his phone, but his words were “it’s important to capture your world in someone else’s eyes” which he did.

Age 27

Three weeks after giving birth to your first son, Isaac, you and Mathew were exhausted to say the least. Being new parents and with the stress of the end of the regular season coming soon, you and Mathew were just plain exhausted.

Mathew was at a hockey game that night. Somehow, despite the exhaustion of being a new father, Mathew was still playing well. He managed to have a four point night; the commentators said something about his new found “father strength.”

The game ended about an hour ago, and Mathew would be home any minute. Finally, finally, Isaac was sleeping and wasn’t crying. You posted a note on the door for Mathew telling him that if he woke Isaac, you were going to a hotel to sleep. Mathew, chuckled to himself, when he read your note. He walked into your apartment, and his heart melted at what he saw. You were sitting on the couch with Isaac sleeping on your chest. You were stroking his back to keep him quiet. Every few moments you’d kiss his head out of love.

You left the polaroid camera on the kitchen counter after taking a few photos of Isaac and your new family. Leaving the camera out allowed for Mathew to take a photo of you without knowing. He puts his stuff down quietly and picks up the camera. He takes it out of the case and snaps a photo. The flash of the camera startles you slightly. When you look over to the flash, you smile when you see your husband. Mathew places the photo facedown on the table and walks over to you. He takes his tie off and rests it on the side of the couch. He sits next to you and kisses your forehead. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

“How was Isaac?”

“He was good,” you tell him. “I’m tired. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through the rest of his life.”

“Hey, we’ll be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out, okay?” Mathew reassures.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Later that night, you put Isaac down for bed and enter your bedroom. You fell asleep easily that night in Mathew’s arms with a soft smile on your face. Yeah, everything would be okay.

Age 28

Shortly after giving birth to Isaac, both you and Mathew were hit with a really bad case of baby fever. Everytime you or Mathew held Isaac, the next immediate thought you both had was “let’s have another baby.” Every time you saw Mathew doing skin-to-skin contact with Isaac, your heart would flutter with love for your husband, your son, and a strong desire for another baby.

Seven months postpartum, you finally felt comfortable with approaching your husband with the topic of having another baby. Mathew was super excited that you brought it up. At first, trying to conceive was slightly painful. You were both patient with the process knowing it would happen when it would happen. You finally conceived after six months of trying.

Five months later, you felt comfortable announcing it to the world. You bought a whiteboard and wrote a message that said, “Baby Barzal #2 coming soon.” Also, you placed the ultrasound photo on the top corner with a baby jersey with “Barzal 02” on it. You took a photo of it to post both on yours and Mathew’s instagrams. You smiled at the messages you received from your friends, family, the WAGs, and Mathew’s teammates. You both opted not to tell anyone except for immediate family wanting to enjoy the news on your own for the time being.

“Mathew, do you know where the polaroid camera is?” you call out realizing that you had a polaroid of the baby announcement for Isaac but not baby number two.

“On the dresser, probably,” he called from Isaac’s room. You could hear the scrunch in his nose as he changed Isaac’s smelly diaper.

“Thanks, babe,” you call back and walk into your bedroom. You grab the camera and walk back to where you have the pregnancy announcement still sitting on the floor. You snap a photo and smile as you place it on the wall.

With baby #2, your heart was full and excited for what would be coming in the future.

Age 29

“Anthony, please?” you beg.

“Why do you guys always get me to take the photos of the two of you?” Anthony whines.

“Because you’re the best at it!” These words do not convince him further to take a photo of you, Mathew, your daughter, Shannon, and your son, Isaac. “What about, if we have another baby, we name them Anthony”

“What? No,” Mathew yells. “No way. No more kids”

“Just give me the camera,” Anthony sighs. You, who is holding Shannon, and Mathew, who is holding Isaac, walk out to the door of your new house. Shortly after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, you and Mathew began looking for a house to live in, figuring an apartment, no matter the size, was too small for the family you both wanted to build.

Mathew holds Isaac in his right arm and wraps his left arm around your waist. You hold Shannon in your left arm with your right arm wrapped around Mathew and look up at him and smile. He smiles back down at you. Anthony knows, after taking way too many polaroids for you two, when to take the photo — when you both inevitably kiss. As he expected, Mathew leans down and kisses you with a wide smile. Anthony holds up the camera and snaps a photo. You both pull back as Anthony hands the photo and camera to you.

“One of your future kids better have Anthony as their middle name or something. Don’t say you’re not having more because we both know the way Barzy is,” he grumbles as he walks back into your newly finished house.

Mathew goes into Isaac’s bedroom to put him down for a nap as you put Shannon down for a nap and grab the tape to put this new polaroid photo on the wall. You put it up and smile at the rows and rows of photos that line the walls. You stand there looking sentimentally at all the memories.

“Hey, you okay?” Mathew asks and rests an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, just look at all the photos from our lives,” you tell him. You rest your head on his chest as you both your eyes trace over the photos. The photos spanned from many different parts of your lives, both together and separately. On the wall, there are many photos of you and Mathew from when you were young, to young adults, to adults living together in New York. On this wall tells the story of how you were best friends from a young age to being lovers to finally being married. The wall tells the stories of you and your friends from high school and college, and it tells the story of Mathew’s hockey career. The wall tells the story of your engagement and marriage. All the photos are a piece of who you both are.

“Here’s to many more photos on this wall,” Mathew says.

“And to maybe another wall dedicated to polaroid photos,” you add on getting a smirk from Mathew.

“The more kids we have, the more photos we’re going to have.”

You giggle. “I thought you didn’t want any more kids.”

“We make some really great kids, so maybe.”

“And it's not because you have a breeding kink?” you tease, and Mathew blushes at your words.

“Maybe it’s because you look great pregnant.”

“So, maybe more kids?” you suggest with a smile.

“Maybe more kids,” Mathew confirms with a kiss on your cheek.

Despite the wall being 75% filled, you knew that your best days were still ahead of you. You couldn’t wait for the future photos that will tell the story of yours and Mathew’s lives together.

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @boqvistsbabe @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @tysonsjosty @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs @davopuck @thebestoffanfiction @islesnucks (Join my taglist here!)

[matwith1t]

A/N: ‘Tis the season for playoff beards so ‘tis the season for playoff beard fics. Thank you, thank you for the words of encouragement!! They mean the wooorld to me 🌍🌎🌏 !! Wherever you call home, I hope you’re having a great day/night!

Request: Could you maybe write a blurb about the reader being excited for the playoffs beard?

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Allusion to smut  // WC: 2.1K // Fluff

You got the notification just as you finished paying off your tab at the bar. It had come after the blaring siren noise signaling the end of the game, after congratulatory hugs from your friends, and after the players raised their sticks up in appreciation for the fans in attendance.

With a win over the Rangers, The New York Islanders officially clinched the last playoff spot in the Eastern Division.

You had been a fan of hockey long before you somehow ended up with a professional hockey player for a boyfriend. The feeling of your favorite team extending their playing into the postseason always caused excitement. But there was a different sort of pride you felt coursing through your veins as the camera panned to show an exceptionally smiley Mat.

“You know what this means,” one of your friends leaned down to whisper in your ear, a smirk on their face and a devious gleam in their eye, “Playoff beards.”

You sat frozen in your seat as the world continued to move around you. A vertigo sensation caused you to feel dizzy as the words grew with meaning. Again, you had been a fan of hockey before you somehow ended up with a professional hockey player as a boyfriend. You had seen playoff beards before.

But you hadn’t seen a playoff beard on your boyfriend.

Knowing that their words caused you to silently spiral alone in your head, they patted your shoulder as a way of saying good luck.

When the waiter came back with your card, you slipped it back into your wallet, and bid your friends goodbye as you had to pick Mat up from the arena. They all waved goodbye with wicked smirks on their faces.

On your drive to the arena, you blasted music in hopes it would drown out the thoughts in your mind. You wanted a clear head when you talked to Mat about the game tonight, he would no doubt be excited about clinching a playoff spot, and you wanted to concentrate on driving safely. Once you made it to the arena, you parked where you always waited until Mat came out from the players exit.

Sitting alone in your car, with your knee bouncing, you turned the music up louder.

You needed to calm down, it was only the beginning of May and the playoffs wouldn’t start until a few weeks. It was too early to feel this excited about playoff beards. But when Mat texted you saying he would be a little late to your car because everyone was celebrating in the locker room… You succumbed to your desires and pulled out your phone.

New York Islanders playoffs 2020 was what you typed into the Google search bar. And when all you saw were team pictures, you narrowed down your search: Mat Barzal playoffs 2020. And low and behold… You were graced with images that your mind could only conjure up in your dreams.

To anyone, the pictures basically looked all the same: Mat in his New York Islanders gear, skating on the ice. His face was mostly hidden by his helmet, but you could still see him. And you could still see his playoff beard.

You inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nostrils as you continued to scroll.

The pictures ranged from clean shaven Mat, him growing out his scruff, and then to a full beard with long hair when the Islanders reached their furthest point in the Stanley Cup playoffs. You saw different versions of Mat, but the pictures on Google were more of an in your face kind of growth of his facial hair rather than a slow progression. While playoff games were played fairly close together, the press pictures weren’t privy to seeing the official start of his facial hair. 

The media wasn’t granted access to see how his facial hair progressed from the moment he went to sleep to when he refused to wake up in the mornings. But you would be able to see that growth. From the light stubble growing into scruff that would eventually grow to cover his jawline––

A knock on your window startled you and you locked your phone when you saw Mat wave at you through the window. With a smile, you unlocked the door and he opened it.

“Do you mind if we drive Beau to his place?” Mat said as he reached over his shoulder for the seat belt to buckle himself in.

You nodded repeatedly, and when Mat didn’t hear a verbal confirmation from you, he lifted his head at you with raised eyebrows. You cleared your throat and blinked a few times, “Yeah––Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Cool,” he smiled as he texted on his phone, presumably to Tito, “He had to go to the bathroom so he shouldn’t be far behind.”

You nodded your head again as you took in the way his clean shaven face lit up by the artificial lighting of his phone. He felt your stare on him and looked up with a tilt of his head.

“Good game,” you congratulated him and his smile widened. Mat dropped his phone to his lap, wanting to take in all of your words, “It was good, You were really good. Everyone played well and not to mention the playoff spot.” You leaned over the center console to press a kiss to Mat’s soft, clean shaven, face, “I’m proud of you.”

Mat playfully shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he played a good game, “Yeah it was exciting.”

You and Mat fell into a silence as he picked back up his phone, nudging Tito along, and you stared at him. More specifically, stared at his bare face. Your mind wandered from innocent thoughts to how facial hair would make him look older than his age, to more impious thoughts of how his beard would feel across your skin.

The back door opening stopped your thinking and caused you to jump as you and Mat turned your heads to see Tito duck into your car.

“Jeez, turn the music down.”

Bashfully, you turned the volume knob down and took your car out of park, “That was a nice goal you had, Tito.”

“Thanks,” you saw him smile brightly from your rearview mirror, “If only we could start growing out our playoff beards now.”

Mat laughed at Tito’s joke, but your grip on the steering wheel tightened.

The two friends continued their banter, while your mind continued to spiral at the thought of Mat and his playoff beard. And after you dropped Tito off at his place, the silence between you and Mat continued as you drove to his apartment. You parked in the spot that you unofficially claimed as yours and walked into his building hand-in-hand.

Once he unlocked the door, and hung up his suit jacket on the coat rack, Mat circled his arms around your waist and pulled you in close for a hug. You hugged him back just as tight, eyes closed with a soft smile toying at your lips. While Mat played aggressively during games, when he got back to his apartment, he liked to wind down.

Mat nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck and you felt a breath of hot air fan your neck. You felt content standing in the entrance of Mat’s apartment; strong arms around you, as he began to softly press his lips against your neck. His kisses weren’t urgent, they were gentle, and lingering in one spot. His slow pace also clued you into that he didn’t expect his kisses to lead to anything further.

He just wanted to press his lips to your skin to feel you.

“Are you excited for my playoff beard?” Mat mumbled into your neck.

Your whole body froze up.

Mat let out a small chuckle, and with your arms still around him, you slightly leaned back to look at him, “What?”

With one last kiss to your neck, Mat pulled away and looked down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “After the game, the boys were talking about how their wives and girlfriends get all excited for the beards in the postseason,” his smirked widened as he pinched your waist, “And you were very quiet tonight.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to cover yourself as you felt embarrassment brewing in the pit of your stomach, “I––I said you played a good game.”

“Mhm,” Mat hummed with a proud smile, “But after Beau brought up the beards you were dead quiet.”

And just like how you went quiet in the car at the mention of playoff beards, you went quiet now. Because how were you supposed to verbalize your excitement? You knew you could say anything and it would feed into Mat’s ego…But how were you supposed to tell him how unimaginably excited you were to see his playoff beard while also expressing the tiniest bit of disappointment mourning his clean shaven face?

With his clean shaven face he looked so youthful. You could clearly see his smile lines when he tipped his head back in laughter, feel his soft skin on yours when he brushed his cheek against yours, and it was the version of him you fell in love with. Not to say you still wouldn’t love the version of Mat with a playoff beard.

Because when you really thought of him growing out a beard…All you thought about was how the dark facial hair would enhance the strong dark color of his eyes. How he would look more mature. And how the short hairs scratching against your skin would drive you absolutely insane. You would love that Mat just as much, but you had to keep your thoughts in check.

“I am excited to see you grow out a beard,” you breathed out a laugh and broke eye contact with him after you saw his eyebrows raise with enthusiasm. You played with the fabric of Mat’s dress shirt between your thumb and index finger, “I just can’t think too much about it.”

“Oh?”

He sounded intrigued.

You poked his stomach and rolled your eyes, “I looked at pictures of you from previous seasons and it…” you took a deep breath and looked up into his greedy eyes, wanting to hear all of your thoughts about him, “I had a lot of emotions.”

“Care to share those emotions?” He tried to keep his mischievous tone to a minimum, but with the way his smirk widened and his hands crept under your t-shirt, you knew he was losing a battle with himself.

“They’re private.”

Mat tipped his head back in laughter; eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, crinkled nose, with those smile lines you loved so much. He squeezed your hips once more and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. At his close proximity, you let your eyes close at his close proximity; always captivated with the feeling that encased your body when his lips kissed your body.

Still keeping his face close to yours, he dragged his nose across the side of your face until his smooth cheek rested against yours, he breathed in your ear, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Your chest expanded with the deep breath you inhaled. His face was so clean––so soft––as he brushed his skin against yours. There wasn’t a feeling you loved more than his skin on yours. And thinking about the new feeling of his facial hair on your skin sent your body into overdrive.

Your voice slightly wavered as you continued to rub the material of his shirt between your fingers, “I think we need to set a precedent.”

“Oh?”

He sounded like he knew exactly what you were proposing.

You shrugged your shoulders, shyly looking up at him as his eyes darkened with every second of silence that passed. With Mat’s hands placed directly on your skin, his thumbs slowly started to rub small circles on your waist.

“You know…” your small voice trailed off, “To see if I prefer you clean shaven or with facial hair.”

Mat’s smirk transformed into a full blown smile as he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you right up against his body. You felt his chest expand a few times as he let out a confident chuckle, “Say no more.”

After both of you agreed on the proposal you brought forward, and Mat dragged you into his bedroom, the only word you said was his name as he ducked his head under the sheets and began to kiss down your torso.

[blueskrugs]

Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

[ivyglow]

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

A/n: this idea came after we had a very sexy- I mean- Angry* Anthony pushing Sidney Crosby. Barbie and some anons send the good energy and so althought it took me forever here it is *cheers*. A huge thank you for @barbienoturbby​ for sending me some specific ideas (sharpies, choking etc hehehe), putting up w my random messages in the middle of the night or being a insecure bitch, ILY BARBIE! Huge shout out to @sebs-aston​ for proofreading this so fast *you’re amazing, liv!*.  PS. More than ever I’m gonna need your feedback because I’m an insecure bitch and this is my first time writing smut (freddie was thigh riding, I don’t consider it too much). So please just lmk if you like it or hate it <3 

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut, mention of chocke, spitting, oral -female receiving- and all those dirty stuff. 

Summary: after getting angry on the ice, you decide to make Anthony angry in bed too. 

You knew Tito was a dom in bed as soon as you met him: he helped you to sit and to get up on your first date, and he led you to your car with his hand on your lower back. One month into getting to know each other, you were planning a gathering with his friends and he was the one to assign everyone with a task. Some days he would use fewer words and stick with hand gestures or eye contact to tell you what he wanted or what he was silently saying. 

So when you two had sex for the first time and he was on top, you were not surprised, you also weren’t surprised when he asked how would you feel about hair pulling, choking, and tying. And, well, you’d never tried any of this, so you were honest with him, knowing that honesty was the key to make things work. He promised to go slow, and he watched you intently while he did everything just to make sure you were comfortable. You can still remember how it felt when he first stretched you, how your heel went to his back to accommodate his waist better, how this movement gave him the perfect angle to go all the way until the end. 

You also remember the hickeys he left on your skin, mostly on places where your clothes could hide, but some you knew he purposely made for people to see. And people saw, indeed and also heard. He got a noise complaint twice because his old bed would scratch and bang on the wall, and that wouldn’t be a huge problem if it was anyone else, but it was Anthony, a hockey player, at that point -your boyfriend-, and he had the stamina to go for hours. A chug of water, maybe a fruit snack, and less than twenty minutes later he was ready to go again - or he would use these twenty minutes to get you off with his mouth and fingers. So the noise complaint was very much expected. 

Now six months into the relationship, this wasn’t a problem anymore. Tito bought a new bed, and even talked with a friend about the possibility of getting soundproof walls. That’s why you were drinking your water and eating one of his energy bars while watching the game. The dynamic after games was usually very sexual, it didn’t matter if he was on the road or at home, you would find a way to get off, either phone sex or spicy pics. He never left you to your own hands. 

The Isles were playing against the Penguins and you knew he was pissed off because of their losing streak against that team. That made him angry with some specifics players too. When he got home last night, you just cuddled together and went to sleep, he was tired and fuming because of their loss, and he probably heard a handful by his coach. Because of those losses, you knew he was going to skate his way around the ice tonight more than ever, and, especially, that he was angry. 

You were laying on his couch when the game started, the Isles skating around the ice in a way you would have bet was a premonition for another loss, but ten minutes in things started to go differently, and that was the exact moment when you sat and gripped Beau’s shirt before an amazing shot hit the Pens’ net. They kept the rhythm on for the next two periods, although they were pretty much stressful- a handful of times you caught yourself holding your breath or cursing. The last two were also a stage for your boyfriend’s anger. He was pissed in a way you’d never seen before on the ice, and when Sidney Crosby pushed Pulock, Tito had had enough and shoved the opposition’s player on the ice. Torn between finding it hot or funny, you chose the latter letting out a loud laugh. Yet, when another exchange of pushes happened between the Pens’ superstar and Beau you sure felt the heat taking up space inside your body and you shifted on the couch. There was another goal and the game kept on providing stress and anxiety for the fans, but you were stuck on the scene your boyfriend had just put up. 

He was usually like this in bed, but not that much on the ice, and seeing that happening outside the four walls left you with a lingering warmth inside your body, and not the cute warmth you usually felt when he cooked for you or told you how much he loved you. But the warmth you got whenever he bent you on the kitchen counter or held your hand tight while going down on you. 

It was past midnight when you heard the door open and close, the soft click making your heart beat faster. He was home. You heard the thud of his bag on the floor and his steps bringing his scent closer to the living room where you were sitting on the couch wearing only his jersey and his favorite lace.

“Hey you, winner,” your voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and you could see his lips curling in a small smile.

“Hey, babe,” his lips found yours on a quick peck and you looked up for more contact, but Anthony was already walking to the kitchen. 

“Are you ok?” you asked, barefoot padding the floor until you reached the stool.

Your boyfriend was already busy cutting some bananas in a bowl, “Yeah, just a little stressed with the game and hungry,” he answered.

“But you won,” you stated in confusion. 

His eyes scanned you for a second before going back to his task. The silence was everything you needed to know: he really was not in the mood for long talks after the episode, but you were a woman on a mission and you knew exactly what to do to get Anthony riddled up. 

“You guys had a great game…” you began, cautious with your words and actions, hands reaching for a banana on the fruit bowl. “How was playing against Sidney Crosby?”

You saw how his eyebrows raised slightly before pouring honey on his bowl and whipping his fingers with his tongue. You knew the action wasn’t supposed to be filthy, yet you’ve been dating him long enough to know that he knew every action of his could be seen as sexual at some point. 

“It was normal, he’s a normal hockey player like any of us,” his tone is nonchalant. 

You suppress a grin, “he’s not like any of you, he’s Sidney Crosby. Just last night he reached his thousandth game,” Tito’s now chewing on his fruit and you can see how the motion seems tighter after your words, still you keep going, “he’s like a superstar! I would love to meet him any of these days…” you trail off busying yourself on biting the banana you just peeled off. His eyes trained on how your lips wrap around the piece of fruit, your tongue purposely darting out. Your boyfriend chooses silence again and you huff rolling your eyes. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he queries, eyes on his bowl, jaw still clenched tight while biting another piece of his fruit. You dart your eyes in another direction while biting your banana again, this time without so much care on giving him a hard time. “I asked you a question, y/n,” his tone was sharp and his voice low. You shake your head. 

He grabs his water bottle before chugging half of the content, “Cat got your tongue? I swear I just saw you poking it out while eating that banana to provoke me,” he tauntingly  gives you a defiant look. 

Anthony motions for you to come to him and you follow his orders willingly, eager to finally have your way with him. You’re within arm’s reach when he tugs you closer, making you stumble in the middle of his big thighs. In a blink of an eye, you feel the sting on your butt cheeks, his big hands finding it again one more time before grabbing your chin. “You can’t even wait for your man to eat,” it’s a low grunt and he seems more annoyed with your playful smile, and you see the perfect opportunity to tease him a little bit more, “You could eat something else, there’s nothing stopping you…” 

With that Anthony seems to lose his judgment before swinging your body on top of the counter, “you’re being such a brat tonight” his hands grab your butt squeezing it hard, “that’s not how you get the things you want” 

“No? Then why are you about to fuck me?” you mock him knowing damn right that this would only make him go harder on you. 

“Crisse,” (holy shit) his French accent makes your pussy throb. You loved when he talked in French to you.

His big hand pushes you back in a swift motion, the same hand spreads your legs for him, and it’s only a second before you’re fully laying on the counter. Still wearing only a lace thong and his jersey, you know the former is about to be ripped out of you. Anthony drags his fingers from the bottom of your belly to your breasts before gifting you a devilish smirk as soon as he notices you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You think Sidney Crosby is the superstar, but you know damn well I’m gonna be the reason why you’re seeing stars tonight,” he whispers before sitting on the stool and kissing up to your thighs. His lips are sticky from the honey and because they’re cold it sends chills running through your warm body. You stretch your arms to reach his hair and he hums grabbing your wrists harshly, “no hair pulling for you tonight,” his murmurs hit your skin and you let out a small whine. 

In order to play with your sensations, you see him taking a long gulp of his cold water. You know it will make his mouth colder and slicker, and you know he’s only doing it because he’s planning to spend a long time between your legs.

And that he does.

You sigh when his lips finally reach your pussy, the shock it causes is good and you can’t help but close your thighs in an attempt to bring him where you are really yearning for his lips. Nevertheless, that’s not what he has planned for you, and he drags his mouth between your pussy lips long before finally wrapping his lips on your clit and humming in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck,” you let out a whine when his fingers reach for your nipple and twist it hard. His wet tongue flickered on your clit and he dived in deeper, making you feel all of him, from his stubble that was starting to grow to his full lips, you could feel it all.

“Anthony,” you try to form a sentence in the exact moment he pushs one finger inside of you, but your voice comes out as a prayer. A plea for more. 

You were a sinner for him.

“You taste so good,” it’s a pleasure mumble and it comes just before his palm strikes your butt cheeks in a firm slap. “I could spend days here, bébé” 

“Anthony,” you try again and this time he laughs with his lips still wrapped around your clit. The vibrations send shivers through your whole body, your toes curl and you try to reach for his hair again before his hand holds both of your wrists. 

You’re close and he knows it because he adds another finger and curls it. It’s a ‘come here’ motion and from another dimension, you were almost able to hear him whisper the same words in French. 

“Give it to me,” he demands, and you do as said just as another finger hits your right spot. For some seconds the kitchen’s ceiling turns black with dots and your vision goes blurry. Toes curling, the pitch on your belly button finally making its way out just like the curses and moans that leave your mouth. Most of them being his name and how good he makes you feel. 

You’re not even done with your high when his big hands grab your ankles bringing your body to the edge of the counter and making you sit. “Open your mouth,” he demands. 

You moan, eyes rolling back from pleasure, “put your tongue out for me, má chérie,” his hands, now holding your jaw, tighten around you. There’s a whimper of bliss and you part your lips wide bringing your tongue out just like demanded before he spits on your mouth. 

“See how good you taste?!” Anthony hums and you swallow it before poking your tongue out again and licking from his glistering chin to his lips. The action fuels a passionate kiss and it’s seconds before your weak legs wrap themselves around his waist bringing him closer. Your core finds the bulge on his pants and you whimper feeling aroused again. 

Your boyfriend is fast to grasp the underside of your thighs bringing your body close to his before making his way towards the bedroom. You take your time licking and kissing his neck and jaw until your body hits the mattress and he’s unbuckling his belt.

“Take it off” he commands, unbuttoning his dress shirt. You’re fast to obey taking off the jersey you’re wearing, now you’re fully naked in front of him. 

“Hands,” you put both of your wrists together and he fastens his belt around it tight. 

From the way his eyebrows were slightly up to his lips parted, you knew he was about to give you another orgasm, you knew that he wasn’t done and he wouldn’t be any time soon. 

“Do we have a safe word tonight, bébé?” his full lips find your jaw and neck and he nibbles on your ear before sucking harshly on your neck again. 

His purpose is to mark you, not only where people can see, but also where they can’t. Just like your waist is being held with such fierceness, you know it’ll leave prints there. You hum a yes dropping your head to the side so he can have more access to your skin, “use your words, you know I need to hear you say it,” he whispers now bringing his mouth to your nipples and biting it lightly. You whimper, “our safe word is blue.” 

“Perfect,” you can feel his smile on your skin and when you reach for his hair with your hands tied, he pushes them up. His strong arm swings on top of your belly and he takes his time on your breasts before making his way lower. There’s a pitch bubbling on your belly again just with the idea of it and he gives you mischievous grim kissing and licking your thighs. 

“Beau,” you whine already feeling your legs weakening again.

“I told you I was hungry, you were the one who suggested the meal,” the funny remark is accompanied by a flicker of his tongue on your cunt. “Now I’ll only stop when I’m satisfied.” 

You curse closing your hands and trying to bring your waist up. He shakes his head, “huh huh, that’s a bad girl attitude,” he spits on your pussy and you moan loud, “and you know exactly what we do to bad girls in this house, don’t you?” 

You nod and he chuckles.

“Words.” 

“I know, sir.” 

“Now, there’s my good girl,” he praises finding your clit and holding it carefully between his teeth, “now give it to me just like you suggested,” he murmurs before diving on your pussy, his tongue gentle and slow, in contrast with his solid arm pinning you to the bed and his rough behavior. 

It would be a long ride and you would feel every step taken, because each one would bring you closer to the inevitable. You felt urgency though; you wanted him to fuck your brains out already. But Anthony took his time, and you knew he was being good because he let you cum in the kitchen even after you provoked him. When his point finger entered you, your eyes couldn’t focus and you knew you were closer, yet instead of giving you a release, your boyfriend took his kisses to your thighs grinning at you one more time. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he speaks under his breath, eyes trained on your pussy. Yet you don’t feel ashamed, because it’s Anthony, and he knows you like the back of his hands, he knows what to do to make you comfortable and he knows how to make you feel good. He would praise and love your body rightly, so you let him. You spread your legs wider and gave him a lopsided smile. 

“Please,” you plead again that night; however, he follows your request this time. 

Anthony dives in again, licking and spitting, flickering his tongue and using his fingers. Giving you what he got and what he knows you like. Your body is fast to answer, your waist trying to go higher to find his mouth, your toes curling, your head shooting back and your eyes rolling. 

He got you there. Fast.

And he made sure to ride you out of you high, this tongue not the least careful with your sensitive bud, while cleaning you up he kept licking it lightly. Full lips brushing it with dedication. 

“Now I want you on all fours,” there’s a dirty smile on his glistering lips and you hold back another moan with the image of Anthony sitting between your legs, face glowing with your cum, “allos y,” (c’mon). You turn your body, holding your hands before supporting your head on the pillows, ass up for him.

There’s the noise of a slap and the sting on your butt cheeks, right before a soft kiss is placed on top of the surely red mark. His hands roam around your body and you shiver when he grabs your hair. “Crisse, tu as l'air si chaud,” (holy shit, you look so hot) Anthony slaps you booty again and finally slips his finger at your entrance feeling your wetness pool around. You’re already ready for him again and he seems pleased with the realization. So pleased it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside of you hitting just the right spot. Your body shots upward and he holds you by your waist keeping your butt bent. 

“Anthony,” you moan loudly when he starts moving ruthlessly inside of you. There’s something hot about how his body is being aggressive and you are taking it all, how his hips are almost knocking your body down, “right - fucking - there,” you whine and he keeps going, this time grabbing your hair and making your body lean towards him. 

“Whose name are you screaming tonight, bébé?” he mumbles bending his own body on top of yours without completely letting go of the position. 

“Yours,” your answer between groans. 

“Let me hear you” 

And you do.

You say his name out loud and clear, and you’re almost sure the neighbors are going to hear it. Yet you do it again and again while the sound of your voice is mixed with the noise of his skin hitting your skin and his feral grunts. He’s big and hard inside you and every time he goes out to get inside again you can feel your pussy stretching out to accommodate him. 

“Beau,” you moan and he chuckles leaning his body down to kiss your back. You see from the corner of your eyes when he finds the black marker on the top of your drawer, you can almost see his head working on ideas, and then he’s grabbing the sharpie you were using to write on your sticky notes earlier today. 

His body is straight up again and his movements are now slower, as he unclasps the marker and you feel its cold material hit your skin. There’s a long up and then down movement, you’re almost sure it’s an M, and then there’s a harsh line of an I, you can hear his grunts louder and he stops himself for a second before shooting his body towards yours again. The sharpie finds your skin again, this time to draw an N, you knew he was doing it big, not only for his eyes, but for you to feel and to know exactly what it was as he wrote the last letter, an E. 

You roll your eyes when he closes and throws the sharpie somewhere in the room before leaving another one of his blows on your butt cheeks. Anthony swings his arm around your torso bringing you up to him, your back hitting his solid chest, “you’re mine,” and that’s what it takes for you to come undone on his still hard cock. Your whole body trembles and your vision goes blurry again, there are tears in your eyes, and this time your moans turn into screams of satisfaction. 

He keeps fucking you through your high and you curse dropping your head back on his shoulder. His hand sneaks in front of your body to touch your sensitive clit, and you hold it sinking your nails on his skin. “Oh fuck,” he grunts drawing his finger deeper. You’re not sure if your body can’t take so much pleasure.

“Let me ride you,” it’s a prayer, a plea, a cry, and you can feel his lips on your neck before your bodies are turned and you’re on top taking him deeper, touching new spots. 

“That’s it, bébé,” he praises you and you roll your hips using your last energies. His hands find their way to your thighs and his short nails dig on your skin bringing you impossibly closer. There’s a deep grunt from him and a small whine from you. It’s hard for your eyes to focus, and you use your body to pin his down and your tied hands find his neck before squeezing it. His hips shot up under you and you scream, tightening your grip on him and squeezing his dick inside of you. 

You can feel another knot on the pitch of your belly, but this time it feels different to recognize this new sensation. That’s when you notice the wetness under you dripping onto his cock to his belly button and in the bed. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “Oh shit, you’re squirting,” his big hands go to your back and he keeps shooting his hips up to meet your pussy, “that’s it, bébé, give it to me once more,” and you’re squeezing him one last time before giving both of you a mind-blowing orgasm. Your body tumbles on top of his and this time things go pitch black instead of blurry. You can still feel his hot body under you and his rapid heartbeat, but your body is fluttering and there’s nothing in front of you. There’s only his body. There’s only your boyfriend existing under you with his cock still deep inside of you. 

It’s seconds before his caresses on your back become some kind of poking, “y/n?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, your voice raspy. He chuckles.

“Fuck, you passed out,” he sounds proud and you giggle. 

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you confess without finding the strength to move your hands and caress him back, but Anthony keeps the tip of his fingers moving softly around your body, “I think I should talk more about Sidney Crosby, huh?” you joke and his hips shot upward making you moan Anthony’s name. Although he just came, he’s still hard and deep inside your soaked pussy.

“What were you saying?” he questions with a smug grin. “I think you were saying something about a certain player, Sidney Crosby maybe?” 

You arch your eyebrows, “who’s Sidney Crosby? I only know Anthony Beauvillier,” and he laughs at your answer before kissing your lips softly. You know there’s gonna be a time for water and a fruit snack later and then he’s going again, because he’s never done until you’re completely wrecked, the only name able to escape your lips being his. 

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[butgilinsky]

there are answers in your silence // mb

warning; language, asshole (kinda toxic ngl) barzy, a sprinkle of asshole tito too, toxic relationship, mentions of cheating, angst- the whole thing is angst, carter hart 

summary; where you and mat are falling apart faster than you can try to fix it. 

word count; 8.3k+

a/n: hi guys! this is a rewrite/continuation of this blurb i wrote. the main pairing is mat x reader but there are a lot of carter x reader themes throughout. there won’t be a part two seeing as i don’t normally write for carter, and i like where it left off. if you have any questions i’d be happy to answer any(: enjoy!

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You loved your job, truly. You loved photography, and you loved the opportunities you’d been given by joining the islanders organization, but you managed to make things messy for yourself. It wasn’t written into your contract that you couldn’t date the players, but it was assumed that you would distance yourself from them. 

Mathew Barzal, however, threw caution to the wind when it came to that unspoken rule. 

You were knee deep in it by the time you realized it was a bad idea. Most days were fine, the two of you were professional in the walls of the rink and you knew how to keep it under control. On any other day, you were capable of keeping it all under control just fine, but going to the rink and smiling at Mat from across the halls was not the same as coming to the rink when the two of you were neck deep in an argument. An argument that had been oncoming for a long time now. 

You couldn’t focus on anything when you were arguing with Mat. You had fallen behind on editing this entire week, and now you were tiptoeing around the rink that you worked at because Mat was everywhere you turned, it seemed. 

You kept your post at the glass throughout the entirety of the game against the Devils, trying to get yourself out of your head when Mat was in your camera’s line of sight. You took pictures of the whole team, you had to, it was your job, but it was hard to do that when Mat was smiling like an idiot after Tito scored, and you had to take a picture of their shared celly. 

Even when he turned towards you and you sent him a gentle smile, the sight of his falling from his lips was heartbreaking. You knew he was mad at you, but the ache in your chest wasn’t able to recognize the fact that the two of you weren’t on the best terms. 

Truth be told, this was anything but out of the blue. Mat had been on edge for a while now, and while you knew it had everything to do with hockey and how he was playing, it wasn’t easy to accept everything he had been continuously throwing at you. You had a lot going on, just like he did, and you didn’t have the time nor energy to exude on this week-long argument. A week long argument that had eventually shifted into radio silence from your boyfriend. 

The next few days proved to be harder than you initially expected, no conclusion being found between the two of you. It was getting out of hand, if you were being honest, and now you had to fly to Philadelphia with the team for two games. You didn’t think all that much about the ride over to Philly until you were faced with your boyfriend happily sitting beside his best friend, not a seat for you in sight. 

You sat at the front of the plane, shoulder bumping against Marty’s while you kept your head low and hopefully out of sight. 

“What’s up with you and Barzy?” you huffed, shrugging gently and telling Matt that he could tell you as soon as he figured it out because at this point, you weren’t entirely sure what the two of you were arguing about either. All you knew was that Mat was mad at you and had been ignoring your calls and texts for the past three days. 

It was confusing to most, given that when you and Mat were on good terms, it was impossible to not see the two of you together. You were both all smiles and giggles when you were around each other, but not recently. You were worried that your spark had died out, that whatever you had built over the last year was fading away with every passing moment, and you were out of solutions. 

You had been lost in the Wells Fargo Center for upwards of thirty minutes when you ran into a boy who seemed like he could be your saving grace. He had a granola bar hanging out of his mouth and his eyes were glued to his phone screen while he walked down the hall in your direction. You weren’t sure who he was, but the Flyers shirt on his torso paired with the backwards hat on led you to believe he was a player and would therefore know the layout of the rink quite well. 

“Hey!” you called out, just loud enough to have him looking up from his phone and over to you. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but I have no idea where i’m going.”

He laughed gently and slid his phone into his back pocket, not overlooking the Islanders logo on your shirt or your name tag that hung around your neck. His eyes were soft and his smile was endearing in a time where you barely had anyone else look at you over the last few days. 

“No worries, though i’m not sure i should be helping the enemy.” you laughed gently, about to make a remark about the Flyers not being your favorite team either, but he spoke again before you had the chance. “Where do you need to be?”

Some time later after you learned that the boy’s name was Carter and he was the Flyers’ goalie, he showed you everywhere you’d need to be over the next few hours. He pointed out different rooms and halls that would be of great use to you and now the two of you were sitting in the middle of the empty seats, looking down on the empty ice. 

“It’s weird, seeing it like this.” Carter whispered softly, more to himself than to you, but it caught your ear nonetheless. 

“Not used to seeing it completely empty?” he shook his head, telling you that there’s usually always someone down there. Whether they’re cleaning or moving things around, there’s almost always somebody down there. 

“Why are you here all alone, by the way?” you hummed softly, letting out a deep sigh with a smile that Carter was easily able to identify as forced. “Don’t you have a hot shot boyfriend that could show you around?”

“And how would you know that?” your voice was light, playful, and it showed in your smile that Carter easily matched. 

“I’m not sure there’s a single person that doesn’t know what Mathew Barzal’s girlfriend looks like.” he tore his eyes away from the rink, looking over at you with a look that had your stomach turning, a lump starting to form in the pit of your throat. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your voice was soft but the silence across the rest of the rink was enough to lift your words up to his ears, the far corner of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly as he registered them. 

“Y/n!” you jumped, startled by the outburst from the top of the section, craning your neck around to lock eyes with your boyfriend. “Where have you been?” 

You groaned, one that resided in the back of your throat and was only heard by Carter due to his close proximity. He sensed the agitation in your body language and the way your eyes fluttered shut while you took a deep breath to compose yourself. 

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming!” you yelled back, muttering a small ‘jesus’ under your breath before pushing yourself onto your feet. “Well, Mr. Hart, thank you for showing me around. I’d be lost without you, literally.” 

He laughed at your joke, though corny he thought it was cute. He shook your hand playfully and watched you climb the stairs to your boyfriend who was glaring at Carter even from his place all the way at the top of the section. 

“What are you doing down here?” 

“So you’re talking to me now?” His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he soaked in your question. He had almost forgotten the two of you were arguing currently, too focused on getting you away from Carter to assess the situation properly. 

“What am i supposed to do? Watch you cozy up beside the goalie I'm about to score a hatty on?” in any other scenario, you’d be laughing, chirping him for claiming that he was going to score a hatty tonight, but you couldn’t do that right now. All you could do was laugh bitterly, focused on the fact that the only reason he was speaking to you for the first time in three days was rooted in jealousy. 

“I wasn't cozying up next to anybody, Mat. I was lost and he had time to spare so he showed me around the rink. That’s all-”

"That’s not exactly how it looked to me just now.” you rolled your eyes and walked past him, ducking around his shoulder and walking in the direction of the room Carter pointed out for you a few minutes earlier. “Y/n! We’re talking!” 

“I’m busy! We’ll talk later!” 

It felt like you were running across the arena during the game, opting to tie your hair back halfway through the first period when you realized you wouldn’t have your own post like you normally would. You were doing your best to get the best shots you could possibly get, but that unfortunately had you breathing heavily and worn out by the time the second intermission rolled around. 

Mat hadn’t scored once yet, and you could tell he was getting aggravated. He was playing rougher than he normally would, and you could see chirps being thrown around the ice, almost always directed towards your boyfriend. He took them in stride most times, only opting for a clenched jaw or maybe a hard hit against the boards. 

When the second intermission began, you were given the okay to take a breather from your job while your boss flipped through the photos on your camera, laughing when you opted to lean back in one of the stadium seats with your limbs spread out around you haphazardly. 

When you were switching sides for the nth time of the night, you ran into Carter again, decked out in his gear void of his helmet, the same charming smile shining in your direction once he saw you. 

“To what do I owe the honor?” he joked, earning a few questioning glances from the few teammates gathered around him, all turning towards you with soft smirks and knowing eyes. They knew who you were, a lot of guys in the league knew who you were. 

Everyone knew who Mathew Barzal was, and his need to show you off to the entire world once the two of you began dating was loud and in everyone’s face. Everyone who followed Mat on instagram or opened up a gossip article every now and again knew your face, knew how you looked tucked under Mat’s arm. It also didn’t help that the boys surrounding Carter had heard about his adventure with you around the rink earlier today. 

“Well if it isn’t Mrs. Barzal.” You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the insult tickling the tip of your tongue and deciding to focus on Carter nudging him in the ribs. 

“Ignore him, he’s not even sure what the word filter means.” One of the taller ones, hair down to his shoulders and bright blue eyes sending you a gentle look, tried to assure you that his friend was anything but thoughtful in moments like these. 

“I guess that’s why they call him the team rat, huh?” Travis, who had no idea you even knew who he was, narrowed his eyes at you just before a small smile stretched across his lips. 

“How’s the game?” Carter’s smile practically hung off of his lips, confidence bursting at the seams as he silently referred to the fact that Mat had threatened him with a hatty not too long ago, and the Islanders had only scored once all night long, and it wasn’t even Mat’s. 

Going into the third period, the Flyers were up 4-1. 

“I plead the fifth.” you said gently, hearing a few laughs erupt all around you. 

“Looks like your hubby’s not getting his hatty tonight.” One of the boys who you didn’t know the name of sent you a gentle elbow into your arm, offering up a smile with his chirp. 

“Looks like he’s not getting a lot of things tonight.” your eyes found Carter, who was already looking at you with a wide smile. You took a deep breath, prying your eyes away from the boy and looking around the small circle that formed in the hall. “Well, boys, if you’ll excuse me-”

“Y/n!” you sighed then, unable to suppress a physical reaction to having your name yelled across the hall for the second time today. You were annoyed, given that this was only the second time Mat was speaking to you today and it had all of the same intentions as his last attempt. 

“Yes?” you turned over your shoulder to see not only Mat but Tito as well, both looking at you as if you’d grown two extra heads. Tito looked to Mat, expecting him to answer your questioning eyes, but he never did. He just stared at you, lips parted but never speaking. 

Truth be told, you needed him to say something. You needed him to say something because he was the one that had left you in the dark this week. He was the one that was going through a time so tough he took it out on you. You did your part, but Mat had yet to do his part, and it was killing you on the inside. 

“I have to go.” you took off in the direction you were originally walking, searching for your next post in the stands. 

You tried to distract yourself, but it didn’t seem to be working. Your hands were shaky while you tried to snap shots as much as you could, and when Mat had a breakdown on the ice, it all went even further downhill. 

Carter didn’t take the brute of it, which surprised you in all honesty, but you weren’t all that surprised when your number 13 was going hit for hit with their 11. Gloves were dropped in the last three minutes of the game, both of them walking away with sore knuckles and five minute majors. 

You weren’t even sure what started it, seeing as you were trying to snap a picture of Tito taking a shot on goal, the other two dropping their gloves on a different part of the ice and out of your view. You couldn’t watch it, instead dug your chin into your chest and tugged on the roots of your hair in frustration. You knew that the Flyers were going to win, given their four goal lead and the Islanders’ inability to get their shit together it seemed. You knew Mat was going to hit a rough practice tomorrow, and it somehow made you more excited to have a hotel room to yourself and the morning off. 

You didn’t see Mat until you got back to your room, shoulders slumped and exhaustion raking through your body. You pushed the door to your room open and jumped a foot in the air at the sight of your boyfriend sitting at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together in his lap and head hung low. He was anxious, you could tell by his posture and the fact that he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

A sick feeling resided in your stomach when a minute passed and neither of you spoke up, both waiting for the other to take the leap. Mat tried to collect his thoughts, despite having plenty of time to do so while he waited for you. He wasn’t even sure how he made it back before you, if he was honest. 

“Where have you been?” it was a bad lead in retrospect, given that he showed no real care as to where you were at any other point in the week. That on top of the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place made for a bad start to a hard conversation. 

“Working, Mat. I do more than snap pictures of the team at games and run back home.” he knew that. He knew because he’d been the one that woke up in the middle of the night to you relentlessly editing things and piecing things together for a deadline. He was the one that woke up to an empty bed, finding you posted up at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee beside you and your head burning from the strain on your eyes. 

You didn’t, however, tell him exactly what you were doing. You were working, yes, but you kept specifics to yourself. He didn’t deserve specifics when he was acting like this. You deserved an apology, an explanation, quite literally anything more than you currently had before you had to give out your whereabouts. 

“I’m sorry this week’s been the way it has. I just- there’s a lot going on right now and I can’t get it all under control.” you sighed, setting your camera bag down on the desk before standing in front of Mat

 “It’s fine if you don’t have things under control all the time.” you set your hands on his shoulders and waited for him to look up at you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite map out. “It’s not fine that you take things out on me when I didn’t cause you this distress.” 

“I know.” he spoke softly, understanding that he was doing something wrong but not entirely providing a solution for it, nor figuring out a way to fix it. “I’m going to figure it out. I’m sorry.” 

You nodded, accepting the soft kiss he silently asked for. You let him stay the night, though you couldn’t fall asleep. You leaned back into his chest, held his arm that was wrapped around you close to your chest, but you couldn’t sleep. You didn’t sleep for more than an hour or two before Mat’s alarm went off and he left for practice. 

You were able to sleep after Mat left, only logging about three hours before your own alarm went off and you had to make it to the rink. The day seemed to be uneventful for a while, but when you finished all of the things you had to do for the day and found a seemingly decent restaurant to stop in on your way back to the hotel, you were met with four smiling faces that you recognized easily. 

“Y/n!” Carter’s voice caught your ear easily, making you spin around in line, seeing the smiling boy give you a gentle wave from the table he was sitting at with the others, all who offered you a similar expression. 

You held up one of your fingers, seeing four boys nod at you in response as they waited for you to order your food. By the time you ordered and paid, grabbing the number that the cashier slid across the counter to you and spinning around, there was a chair at the end of the table that Travis was sitting in, leaving the spot in the booth beside Carter vacant. All four of the boys were pointing at the seat, ushering you into it with wide smiles. 

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” you smiled warmly at the boys as you approached their table, sliding into the seat they vacated for you. 

“You’re telling us.” Carter offered, his smile cutting through you just like it did every other time it was given to you. 

Carter was cute, that much you could admit to. You hadn’t spent much time with him other than the other day when showed you around the rink, but you’d talked to him more than your own boyfriend in the past week so that was saying something. You were grateful for his hospitality, and even if you knew there was something else brewing beneath the surface, it wasn’t anything you were going to acknowledge and you certainly weren’t going to act on it. 

The rest of the boys were nice. Travis was a bit of a pest, but Nolan was able to keep him under control most of the time. They balanced each other out and you were aware of that from the very beginning. Joel was a nice kid, not the loudest in the room but certainly not the quietest either. Overall you had a good time sitting with and talking to them, appreciating the good company in a time where you had felt pretty isolated. 

They showed you a few places around Philly, sticking things within walking distance of the restaurant the five of you came from. It was fun, being able to forget about the chaos going on in your life for once. They even walked you back to your hotel, leaving you with each of their phone numbers to assist you in the rest of your time in Philly, and warm smiles. 

Just as they were leaving, Carter hung back for a bit to offer you a softer smile than the one he was giving you throughout the day, his eyes telling you that there was something brewing in his mind, something he had been holding back about all day. 

“I just wanted to say that you’re doing great. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, that much is obvious, but you deserve better.” he gave you one last smile and told you to call him if you needed anything at all before turning to catch up with his teammates. 

Carter’s words hung in your mind longer than you would’ve expected. They made you rethink everything that had occurred in your life over the last few months, every up and down, every bridge you built both by yourself and with others. You wondered if you were where you were supposed to be, if this is where you were meant to be in life and how long you were meant to be there. 

You loved Mat. You loved him completely, but there were things missing. You weren’t sure what it was, and part of you wanted to believe that you were just in the middle of a rough patch, but a greater part of you knew better. You knew that Mat was going through the thick of it, and your mind couldn’t help but wander over the chance that the time for you and Mat had run its course. 

You went another night without sleep, the stress from overthinking yourself into oblivion making it impossible to get any consistent sleep throughout the night. It showed in the way that your bags were deeper, darker than normal and the way you yawned every few minutes. However, instead of dozing off in your seat or complaining about your lack of sleep, you grabbed a coffee with two extra shots of espresso on your way to the rink and threw yourself into your work. 

You were neck deep in assignments, legs tucked under you and headphones stuck in your ears when a flash of blue entered your sight, prying your eyes away from your laptop and casting them up to the blue eyed boy from Quebec. He was looking at you like you’d done something wrong, like the world was on fire around you and you were holding a match. 

You and Tito were good friends, especially after you started dating Mat. with the two of them being inseparable and Mat making a special place for you in his life, you and Tito naturally spent a lot of time together. You were good friends, honestly, but there was never a time when Tito took your side over Mat’s. Sometimes he passed judgment without hearing every side of every story, but you understood. You knew that Mat needed people to lean on when the two of you were in the thick of it, you just wished it didn’t morph Tito’s opinion on you. 

“What can I do for you, Beau?” he hummed, a noise of disapproval that you had heard from him too many times to count. He sat beside you, not surprised to see you shut your laptop and turn your attention towards him. 

“The two of you need to figure this out soon. You need to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it, and by god you need to get him out of his head.” You could tell his intentions were genuine, that he just wanted his friends to be happy, but he wanted the two of you to be happy together, and you weren’t sure there was any more room for that. 

“I’ve tried, Beau-”

“No, you haven’t. You haven’t tried, because when the two of you try, things get resolved.”

“You’re right. When the two of us try, we fix things. When the two of us work through things together, we come out of it alive. But you’re missing the big picture, Tito. the two of us aren’t trying. I’m trying. I’ve been trying. I try so hard, and he gives me absolutely nothing. He ignores me for days, only speaks to me when we fly out to a different city and he sees me interacting with somebody who isn’t him. It’s not my fault, Tito, and I know that’s hard for you to see because you’re so far up his ass that you can’t see the bigger picture but here I am. I’m here telling you how to see things for once and I’m begging you that you just hear me out.”

He was speechless, but nodded. He didn’t know what to say to you, but he wanted to hear you out because the crack in your voice and the exhaustion that was bringing tears to our eyes was breaking his heart right in front of you. 

“I’m trying, whole heartedly. I ask what’s wrong and I offer solutions, and he takes none of it. He comes into my hotel room with a key, that I'm not even sure how he got, and he tells me he’s sorry but then nothing changes. He stopped coming over after practices, and gets annoyed when I have deadlines I can’t miss. I try and he doesn’t, and if that makes us fall apart then so be it, Tito, because I can’t fucking do it anymore.” your eyes burned, filled to the brim with tears you tried to suppress as Tito looked at you like you were fragile. He looked at you like you were the broken one, like if he even touched you on the shoulder you’d break into a million pieces. 

“Y/n-”

“I have to go.” you stood up, grabbing your things that sat around your seat and took off in any direction that looked safe enough for you to escape the headspace you were slipping into. 

You’d made it down one hall and around a few corners before you ran into somebody, the impact shaking you enough to have you distracted from the intrusive thoughts you were having. You looked up, met with soft eyes and a look of concern that had your heart sinking further into your stomach than it already had been. His hands reached out, brushing hair out of your face and holding your head back long enough for him to try to piece together what could be wrong. 

“What happened?” your lip wobbled then, enough for your chin to twitch and have you bite down roughly on your bottom lip. 

Carter grabbed your hand, the one that wasn’t gripping onto your laptop, and pulled you into a room not too far from your place in the hall. It was a small room, only met for equipment that had no other home, but it was enough to get you out of the wide open hallway where anyone would be able to see the breakdown you were about to endure. 

He pried the items out of your arms, set them on the shelf beside you so your mind would be at ease with their safety, and wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t know you very well, but he saw the way you reacted to physical touch. He saw the way you leaned into hugs or shook people’s hands for a second longer than most. He made a judgment call within seconds, but he knew he did the right things when you pressed your face into his chest and let out sobs that you’d been holding back for weeks. 

He didn’t pester you nor rush you, just held you in the room that could be classified as a closet and let you get everything out. You clung to him, and he held you softly, hands running up and down your back in a soothing manner while he waited for you to catch your breath. 

When you did, he pulled back, soft smile still as heavy as it always had been. He waited for your cue, something to tell him it was okay to pry. He didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, and he had no idea where the lines were drawn so it was a dangerous game. 

“It’s too much.” you whispered softly, closing your eyes gently while Carter hummed, not entirely understanding your words. 

“What’s too much?”

“Everything. Everyone’s expectations, everyone’s thoughts and opinions. The fact that i’m trying to fix a relationship all on my own and still getting the heat for it not working out. Having a full time job where I can’t run away from problems in my personal life. I wish I was still in college, wish I wasn’t surrounded by these people who are staring at me like I’ve burned down the entire planet when I’m the only one that’s trying to save it.” 

He listened the whole way through, not interrupting nor giving his unwarranted thoughts and while it was just a common courtesy, it was groundbreaking for you. To be able to pour out everything you’re feeling and thinking without someone trying to pick your brain on the subject was refreshing. You couldn’t remember the last time you put everything out on the table like that without seeing it knocked off right after. 

“Hey” you looked up at him, sniffling softly and watching his lips turn up in a smile at the sound. “You’re okay. It’ll all be okay. If you feel invalidated or uncomfortable in the situation you’re in, there’s always an out. Even if it feels like there’s not, even if it feels impossible to claw your way to the exit, there’s always a way out. And if you need help getting there, I know a guy or two who’d be willing to help.” 

Carter had a way of knocking you off of your feet with a simple sentence. His words cut through you like a song you’d never heard before, like lyrics that dig so deep you feel like it was written just for you. Carter was picking your brain in the gentlest way possible, and you were eating up every single second of it. 

You thanked him for his comfort, for his ear and his wisdom. You were sure that there were things you would have to do in the coming days that would be harder than you could’ve ever imagined, but you were sure that they were necessary in order to better your life for yourself. 

You were going to get through this.

All was said and one until the door swung open and you stepped out of the equipment room, locking eyes with the one person on the Flyers bench that didn’t know the meaning of the word silence. Travis meant well most of the time, truly, but that didn’t mean you’d spill all of your secrets to him. 

But he smiled at you softly, noticing your red rimmed eyes and tear tracks on your cheek. He saw the look that Carter gave him from behind you and so he simply put his fingers up to his lips as if locking them shut and tossed the key over his shoulder. It was simple, but effective, and he truly had every intention of keeping the knowledge to himself, until he was standing on the ice face to face with the centerman that dropped his gloves opposite him the other night and well, Tk found an opening. 

You weren’t sure what was said, nor who started it, but you were sure that in the middle of the second period with a tied game, tensions were not high enough for there to be multiple scrums on the ice. 

No other fight mattered until your eyes locked in on Mat saying something, neck vein popping out and spit flying. Whatever he said must have struck a chord with Travis because in an instant, you saw Travis’s lips moving and Mat’s fist flying. It was his second fight in two games and it was highly unlike him to fight this often, but it seemed that he was on edge. 

The tension didn’t boil down for the rest of the game, chirps only growing more intense and penalties being called more often than not. It was a head banger, a nail biter, and you were almost distracted from your work to watch it. 

Mat was enraged by the time you got to him. His body picked up a couple more cuts and bruises, one that landed on his right cheek bone from a high stick in the beginning of the third. His knuckles were bruised from punching Tk and his eyes were darker than the bright blue color you adored. 

You knew it had everything to do with you when the rest of the team sent you careful looks, both of disapproval and warning. You knew something was wrong, something had happened and you were unintentionally standing in the middle of it. When Tito passed you, a scoff dropping from his lips and his shoulder knocking yours gently, you knew it was bad. 

“Beau?”

“Oh I'm not helping you out of this one.” he said softly, a careful look thrown over his shoulder at Mat who was glaring at you from his place against the wall. “You have to go fix that one by yourself.” 

You wanted to shove him away from you, wanted to tell him that he was being ridiculous and unfair, but you didn’t. Instead, you let him grab his back and walk out towards the bus that would take you all to the airport. 

“Mat-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” his voice was low and dark, an animosity dripping from his tongue that you’d never heard him use before. He walked past you, leaving the rest of the guys to let out low whistles and shoot you apologetic looks because in retrospect, they witnessed what happened on the ice. You still had no idea. 

“It’s bad, y/n.” You looked over at Marty who stood a few feet away from you, throwing his bag over his shoulder and shooting you a careful look. “I’ve never seen him so mad.” 

You sighed and thanked him, giving him one more thanks when he said he’d save you a seat on the plane and took off after Mat. he wasn’t too far ahead, but his angry strides took him far enough to send you into a jog through the facility. 

“Mat, wait! Mat! Jesus, Mat just talk to me!” he paused in stride, turned on the balls of his feet and glared into you from his place across the hall. 

“Frankly, I don’t want to hear it, y/n. I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to be round you. I want you to leave me the fuck alone.” he went to turn again, hoping that that was good enough to get you off of his back for now. 

“So we’re just going to ignore it until it blows over? That’s not going to fix anything Mathew!” he dropped his bag, loud and harsh against the tile beneath his feet. He spun around and strode up to, face to face with mere inches between you. 

“There’s nothing to fix. You made your point, you chose your side, and you chose to throw me out to the wolves like I never meant anything to you. So yes, we’re going to ignore it for now but no, it won’t blow over. If you wanted to fix things you shouldn’t be shacking up with goalies in closets.” 

“I wasn’t shacking up with anybody in a closet you douche. I was crying in that closet because you’re too stubborn to talk to me. I’m trying so hard, and you’re giving me absolutely nothing to work with. You send Beau to convince me to fix things but you’re not even trying, Mat! You’re the one ignoring me and I’m supposed to fix things?”

“You’re not supposed to cheat on me!” you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling over currently. You were trying to get through this conversation but it was defeating, and having him yell at you in front of his entire team was not helping. 

“I didn’t ch-”

“That’s bullshit! You expect me to believe you were just hanging out in there for fun?”

“She was crying, dude.” Mat looked over your shoulder at the same time you let out a string of profanities under your breath. Why he was here right now, you had no idea, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to help any. 

“You’ve got some nerve to be here right now.” Carter shrugged, showing no intimidation towards Mat at all. He wasn’t scared, wasn’t backing down, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stand by and watch Mat scream at you for something you didn’t even do. 

“You’ve got some nerve to scream at her like that.” When Mat moved you pressed both of your hands into his chest, steady and hard enough to keep him in his place, not even taking a step towards Carter. 

A silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable like polluted air that clogged your lungs. Everyone could feel it but nobody made a move. Nobody stood up or down, not weighing in to the conversation with a viewpoint on either side. Everyone simply watched, waiting for you or Mat to say something to the other one, or maybe for you to say something to Carter. 

Mat looked down at you, eyes still dark as they were earlier, jaw clenched and breathing fairly regular. He looked angry, angrier than he ever was off the ice. You wanted him to know you didn’t do anything with Carter, nothing more than crying into his chest about problems like the one you were currently stuck in. But then he spoke, he spoke and you felt everything around you wither away. 

“Get on the bus right now, or we’re through.” he picked up his bag and gave both you and Carter one final glance before taking a few steps backwards. He was waiting for you to move, waiting for you to choose your side right here, right now. 

“Y/n.” Carter’s voice was much more gentle than Mat’s, giving you a break from the screaming and crying. It broke his heart when you glanced over your shoulder and showcased red rimmed eyes and wet cheks just like you had earlier. He knew you were hurting, knew you were in a sticky situation that you couldn’t find your way out of, and all he wanted to do was help. 

“Now, y/n.” you looked back at Mat, who had stopped walking by now and was raising his eyebrows in your direction. 

It was harder than it should’ve been. You’d known Carter for just over 48 hours and while you appreciated everything he had done for you in the short amount of time, Mat was your boyfriend. Mat was there in times you thought you’d never make it out of. He knew you, knew how you operated. He knew things about you that you didn’t even know about yourself, and he held a piece of your heart in his hands, even if he didn’t protect it the way he used to. 

You couldn’t walk away from Mat, but there was a hesitation in your movements. Your slow movements as you wiped your cheeks and walked towards him, head hung low and accepting the arm that was thrown around your shoulders. 

You didn’t turn to see Carter’s face, didn’t even look up to see Mat’s. You didn’t want to see either of them, didn’t want to talk to them or hear what they had to say. All you wanted right now was to crawl into your bed at home and cast out the world around you. 

“You made the right choice, baby.” The kiss that dug into the side of your head was anything but comforting, if anything it was degrading. It was his way of showing you that choosing him was the easier path, that he would’ve flipped the world completely upside down if you had turned on your heels moments ago. 

You and Mat didn’t come to a conclusion that night. You didn’t resolve anything nor did you truly talk about anything. Instead, you let him into your bed and you let him drive away the pain that he caused over the course of the last few weeks. You let him convince you he’d be better, that he loved you and he’d do anything to be there for you. You let him convince you that he was the one for you, that nobody could make you feel the things that he did and while you believe all of this at one point, you weren’t sure you still did. 

You added another night to the count of sleepless ones, basking in your thoughts and the ache in your chest after Mat dozed off. Having him just behind you was oddly comforting despite the fact that thoughts in your head were too loud for sleep. 

Another week went by before anyone said anything, despite the few Flyers that were blowing your phone up with messages to check if you were okay and ask why you went with Mat when he clearly didn’t deserve an ounce of your attention. You explained that you loved him, that he was your boyfriend and you owed him a clean break if that’s what ended up happening. You also worked with the Islanders, and you couldn’t just stay in Philly with no way to get back home and hours away from work. 

Carter had been receptive and understanding, though you weren’t sure you expected much else from him. He didn’t expect you to stay, didn’t even expect you to choose him over Mat, but he expected you to do better for yourself. He expected you to be strong for yourself, to offer yourself a better future than the one you were seemingly drawing up for yourself. 

It wasn’t until you got a peculiar phone call that you were even thrown out of the routine of clawing your way through the night and chasing it down with a large coffee and one too many espresso shots. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/l/n?” 

“This is she.” 

“Hi Ms. Y/l/n, this is Chuck Fletcher with the Philadelphia Flyers. I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.” 

You did a 180 after that phone call, pressed with another decision to make and seemingly no time to make it. You didn’t have many people to turn to about the decision, seeing as most all of your friends were biased in their decision making. Your friends loved Mat. They loved Mat and they loved going to Islanders games. 

You called Carter after you hung up the phone, anger bubbling over to the point of tears by the time he answered the phone just to let you rip into him. You accused him of getting you the job as the Flyers’ photographer just to have you closer to him, just to pry you away from Mat and New York as a whole. You accused him of not even knowing your skill level, just using this as a ploy to ask you on a date if you showed up. 

He listened the whole time, waited for a break in your words to ask if you were serious, to tell you that he’d seen your portfolio because his GM brought it over when he noticed Carter had spoken to you. He told you that he had no say in you getting this job offer other than him telling his GM about the sincere interactions he’d had with you. He put in a good word for your personality, but he never made a comment about your skill level. 

Now, you had a decision to make. A decision that would lead to many other decisions, so you thought. You thought you’d have to make a yes or no decision that would snowball into so many decisions you’d be left to suffocate in unanswered questions. Little did you know that by making one decision, the rest were made for you. 

“You’re doing what?” you sighed, trying to find the point in this conversation where you’d be left with a new job and a happy relationship, but it seemed as though that wasn’t in the cards for you. 

“I’m moving to Philly-”

“It’s because of him isn’t it?” you shook your head gently, feeling the weight of the world trying to shove you beneath the surface. It was weighing you down, pushing you further and further until you reached the core of it all. 

“It’s because it’s a better job for me, Mat.”

“How in the hell is a better job for you?” he didn’t believe you. Not after everything that happened. He didn’t think there were possibly any other explanations for your move. 

“It pays more, the cost of living is cheaper in Philadelphia, I get more benefits with the Flyers and I get-”

“A new boyfriend.” you paused, took a deep breath. You tried to breathe through the panic coursing through your body, tried to assure yourself that you must have heard him wrong.

“A what?”

“If you move to Philly, you get a new boyfriend. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You don’t want me anymore, you want him. So he gets you a big new fancy job and you get to leave New York, right? Because you didn’t want to live in New York your whole life so this is the time to get out. This is the time for you to leave your life behind, to start fresh and meet new people. It’s time for you to start looking for studios, right? For you to start booking freelance shit.” 

He comes to the realization too late, when he’s already said enough things to hurt you for a lifetime. He realizes that you moving makes more sense than he wants it to. You never wanted to stay in New York for your whole life. Sure, if things with Mat ended up better than they did, you would’ve stayed for him in a heartbeat. You would’ve gone wherever his career took him because yours can truly be done anywhere, but he knew New York wasn’t your preferred state to live in. 

The Mat you fell in love with, the one that took you on dates to your favorite restaurants and brought you home flowers just because, was finally coming back to the surface. The one that offered you his heart on a platter without asking for it, and treated yours with the gentlest touch. You were seeing him again, for the first time in a long time. You wanted to hold onto him, to open up your heart and make room for him again but the truth was there was no more room. You’d vacated a space for him a long time ago and he threw it away. It was too late for that Mat to come back.

“It’s giving you room to grow right? But the growth is different this time. The growth is away from me, apart from me. The growth is individual now, all on your own, but that’s good. That’s good because you need to grow and I- I’m not right for you anymore.” he started shaking his head, letting the dam of tears that he had kept in for so long finally burst. 

You were there to catch him, to hold him tightly and kiss his damp cheeks. You were there to assure him that he deserves the world, that you tried to give that to him but truthfully, maybe you just weren’t trying the right things. You assured him that he wasn’t a bad person, that he wasn’t good for you but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be good for somebody else. 

You were there to catch Mat when he fell, and you helped him stand back up again. 

Now you were walking away, your head held high and a smile finally living on your lips as you assured him that this was good for both of you in more ways than one. You were going to be okay, and you were sure that Mat was going to be okay too. 

So you moved to Philly. You moved into an apartment not too far from the rink, one with a cheese steak place right around the corner. You started working with the Flyers and seemingly fell right into place with them. You made friends and found your footing, feeling like everything leading up to now was exactly for this. All of the pain and hardships you endured was for this, for you to feel like you had finally done the right thing for yourself rather than for everyone else. 

You made the right decision. 

-

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[zegrasdrysdale]

[ impossible ] t. seguin

day eleven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Tyler Seguin x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) is surprised when ex boyfriend Tyler knocks on the door of her parents’ house on Christmas Day

warning(s) : angsty, but nothing besides that

author’s note : last two fics of the christmas marathon. let’s do this

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She has never been happier to be home in Toronto. (Y/N) loves living in Dallas, but the last few weeks haven’t been the best. Being surrounded by family should help her out of the post-breakup funk she’s been in recently.

Even now as she's sitting in the living room with her family in her Christmas pajamas and opening their gifts, she misses Tyler. She misses her old life with Tyler, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep doing the distance.

He was away more often than he was home. When he was home, he went out with his teammates after games or on off days. She'd often go weeks without seeing him because he'd stay over at a teammate's house.

She wasn't equal with hockey anymore. Not like she used to be. She got tired of it.

She never gave him an ultimatum because she could never make him choose between her and hockey. (Y/N) made her feelings known and Tyler didn't seem to care, so she has been living with her best friend in Dallas and came home for Christmas a week ago. She stopped answering Tyler's texts and calls so she hasn't even talked to him in nearly two months.

Her family doesn't notice that something's wrong. (Y/N) does her best to keep a smile on her face and interacts with her nieces and nephews as they open their gifts. No one has asked where Tyler is and she is very much grateful for that.

As (Y/N) opens a gift from her mom, there's a knock on the door. Her mom goes to answer it as she opens the box that contains a Dallas Stars customized jersey that has her last name above the 91. "Tyler!" her mother shouts from the front door. "It's so nice of you to join us. We didn't think you'd be joining us."

Her head snaps toward the door so quickly that she thought for a split second that she gave herself whiplash. She's very surprised to see her ex standing at the front door of her parents' house in Toronto.

"I needed to go see my parents before coming over," Tyler says as he looks right at (Y/N). "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how insane Toronto traffic can be."

Words cannot express how angry and annoyed she is that he is at the door. She thought that he would've gotten the message that she was done when she didn't talk to him for two months.

Apparently not because there he stands in a Stars hoodie and plaid pajama pants with a bag full of gifts at the front door.

She gets up off the floor and pushes Tyler out the door without a word to anyone. It closes behind her, leaving the two of them alone in the cold Toronto air. Snow is on the ground and she's outside in a tank top, fuzzy pajama pants, and slippers. (Y/N) can't even feel the cold because of the fact that she is fuming.

"You have no right showing up," she spits at him. "We haven't spoken in two months and you show up at my parents' house."

Tyler blinks and says, "Last time I checked, you're the one that stopped talking to me. I don't remember being told that I wasn't allowed to come to Christmas because you stopped answering my texts and calls."

"We're done, Tyler," she tells him. "In case that wasn't clear."

"You're done," he retorts. "I'm not. I don't understand why you just up and left."

"I told you why!" (Y/N) practically shouts. "You're gone for weeks at a time, Tyler. The only time I get to see you is when we're separated by a thick piece of glass while I'm sitting in the stands and you're on the ice. You used to spend off days with me, you used to come home to me and we'd watch a movie on the couch or in bed. Then you decided to go out after every game or go out on off days."

He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I am a leader, (Y/N). I was never around my team. I needed to show them that I am still a leader and I couldn't do that when I was cooped up at home with you. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating and all of a sudden, you can't handle it anymore?"

Anger courses through her veins. Her blood is boiling to the point where the snow might melt around her. "No," she retorts. "I can't do it anymore. You used to make time for me and now you're a ghost. I was living in a shell of our past life together while you seemed to be moving on. I was alone in that apartment. It was like I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal if I left."

A look of hurt flashes on Tyler's face. "Of course it would be a big deal if you left," he softly says. "I love you. I miss you."

She shakes her head and does everything she can to keep the tears from spilling over to her cheeks. "You didn't listen," she tells him. "I told you how I felt and you still went out that night after the game. I made the decision to leave because I knew that if you went out after I told you how I felt, you'd keep going out. I couldn't do it anymore."

Tyler frowns and says, "I went out to tell the guys that I wasn't going to be going out as much with them after games and on off days. That is the only reason I went out. I was gone for thirty minutes. When I came back to the apartment and you were gone, I realized that I didn't tell you that I'd be right back."

"I- you-" she cuts herself off when she realizes that if she had just stayed around for an hour, he would've been back. "Why didn't you just text that to me?"

"I thought that you'd be back," he admits. His eyes fall to the ground. "I didn't think you'd ignore me for two months. I didn't think it would take you a half hour to pack a bag and leave. I should've told you that I'd be right back."

A tear slips down Tyler's cheek. Her own tears begin to fall when she sees Tyler's tears. "Tyler, I'm so sor-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupts her. "Don't you dare apologize. We wouldn't even be in this situation if I had just realized how lonely you were or if I had just told you that I would be right back. I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have come up here to try and fix things but I couldn't let you spend Christmas thinking you did something wrong when you didn't."

She takes a few steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso. Tyler's free arm wraps around her shoulders as she buries her face in his chest.

They've both done a lot wrong the past few months, but all they can do now is acknowledge what they've done wrong and move past it.

Hopefully Tyler's season can recover too because despite not being together, (Y/N) did keep an eye on his stats. He really began to fall apart a week after she left the apartment and has never been able to get it together.

That's all on her.

"Sorry your season has gone to shit," she sniffles as she looks up at him. "You can blame that on me."

Tyler shakes his head and cups her jaw with his free hand. "I'll never blame how good or bad a season is going on you," he tells her. "That will never be on you.'

A gust of wind blows and she shivers. Tyler wraps his arm back around her shoulders and holds her close to him. "I'll blame myself enough for both of us," she says. "Can we go inside?"

"As long as you're not done," Tyler replies. "I came up here to fight for us and I won't go inside unless you tell me that we can go back to how things were, minus my going out all the time."

(Y/N) looks up at him and nods. "I'm not done," she practically whispers. "Even when I said I was done, I don't think I actually was. You're impossible to move on from, Tyler Seguin."

He smiles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. He hums and pulls back. "God, (Y/N)," he says. "Your lips are so cold. Let's go."

She lets out a light laugh and walks into the house with Tyler in tow.

Everyone looks at the two of them as Tyler pulls off his hoodie and pulls it over (Y/N)'s head since they were outside for fifteen minutes talking in freezing temperatures. "Everything okay?" her mom asks. "You guys were outside for a while. I thought I heard yelling."

"Everything's okay," she assures everyone in the living room. She goes back to sitting on the ground and Tyler sits next to her. He takes her hands in his so they warm up. She leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. "We're okay."

That was more for Tyler than anything. He kisses the top of her head before he starts to hand out the gifts that he brought with him for (Y/N)'s parents and siblings. She watches them open their presents with a smile on her face.

Then Tyler holds a little present in front of (Y/N). She slowly takes it and looks up at him. "What is this?" she asks.

"Now that would ruin the surprise," Tyler teases. "Open it and find out. I know technically we weren't together when I bought this but I knew I wanted to buy it for you."

She unwraps it and opens the little black box. There's a silver ring that sits inside with a 91 in little diamonds on it. Her jaw drops and she looks up at her boyfriend. "You really went all out even though we weren't together," she gasps.

Tyler grabs it out of the box and takes her right hand. He slides the ring on the ring finger. "Wanted to make sure that everyone knows who your boyfriend was when we got back together," he replies. She admires the ring on her finger and Tyler kisses the ring.

(Y/N) smiles and leans against him to watch the last few presents get opened.

It finally feels like Christmas now that Tyler is here. It didn't feel like it until he got here because they have spent the last three Christmases together.

Despite being angry that he showed up, she's very happy he's here now.

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