#if I get one with a piece of game worn jersey...

[eightfourone]

added 50 billion hockey cards to my christmas list. I will be so easy to shop for

[kitteninabunker]

" lucky charm ! "

contains— female reader, spit, creampie, multiple orgasms (reader), sixsome, full nelson, double penetration, oral sex (m & f receive), anal, unprotected, toji calls a girl a bitch, toji being soft, mlm scene between geto & gojo, reader masturbates, mind breaking, nanami cameo, reader has a belly piercing, no penetration from geto this time

a/n— since u guys and i personally love dork!reader x jjk football team, i decided to write another one! prequel here you'll probably have to read that one first for this to make sense, also do not come for me because i have no clue about what goes on during football >.< this is also kinda rushed, let me specify that this is a college au too

word count— 9.1k… i apologize in advance

the whole football team is truly convinced that dork!reader is their "good luck charm."

ever since that night, when they all took turns with you in the locker room, fucking you until you were a babbling mess, they haven't lost a single game since. and now, with tonight being the night of the championship, and the team's reputation on the line, they aren't taking any chances.

it started out small, toji letting you wear his football jersey to cover up after they tore your outfit to pieces, the oversized fabric swallowing you up as he smirked at the sight. gojo carrying you on his shoulders, letting you wear his football helmet and laughing each time it fell over your eyes with any little movement you made, and geto sneaking you into games for free, so you can be in the stands, cheering for your favorite boys. they loved it, loved knowing their favorite girl was always there, watching, supporting them, belonging to them in a way nobody else could.

oh, and as for their girlfriends? well, the way you were just a bit too loud for their boyfriends whenever they scored a point earned you more than a few nasty looks, not that you cared. they definitely notice you, the way you're always at the football games, always getting their boyfriend’s attention, and they hated it. not because they actually love their boyfriends, but because the idea of some dorky girl stealing their spotlight was unbearable. the truth is, you are pretty, just as much as they are, and worthy of attention. but you're shy, kept your head in a book. it took a hit on your social life, sure, but that didn’t matter. because their boyfriends‘ didn’t seem to mind at all.

the stadium lights burn brightly against the dark sky, a sharp contrast to the biting cold air that nips at your bare legs. the crowd buzzes with excitement, fans bundled up in thick jackets and scarves, but here you are, shivering in your too-short miniskirt and your cropped top, stubbornly refusing to cover up. you'd spent so much time getting ready, doing your makeup, making sure you looked cute for them, and now, standing at the edge of the field, you wonder if you should've picked something less revealing. but it's too late for second guessing, especially when you hear a familiar voice call out—

"there's our girl."

warm hands settle on your shoulder as geto leans in, his lips brush against your temple before he moves over in front of you. the others aren't far behind—toji, sukuna, gojo, and choso—following closely behind, surrounding you with their broad, towering frames. their presence is overwhelming in the best way. "tryin' to look extra pretty for us tonight, huh?" geto murmurs, his thumb wiping off some of the smudged gloss at the corner of your lips with his free hand, he's clutching his football helmet tightly in the other. it's true, you wanted to look pretty for the guys today, glossy lips, cute little outfit, your hair worn down instead of pulled back into your usual ponytail, but with the weather being practically freezing since the sun isn't out anymore, you look silly in your white miniskirt, to anyone that isn't gonna fuck you, anyways, that barely reaches where your thigh and ass meet. but when you catch the way they're all looking at you, as if you're the only thing worth staring at, drooling like starving dogs, it felt worth it.

still, a tiny feeling of self-consciousness bites at you. should you have worn a different outfit? something that wouldn't draw so much attention to you? wouldn't make you feel so aware of yourself? “o-oh, do i offend?” you innocently ask, raking through your hair with your fingers and smoothing down the back of your skirt. "you wouldn't let us go into the biggest game of the season without a little extra luck, would you?" geto asks, mock sadness in his voice as he pouts. you fidget with the ends of your hair, dropping your head to stare down at your shoes on the dark green grass only to notice just how much bigger the guys are than you as they stand around. "don't go all shy on us, y/n." toji chuckles from beside geto, his hand finds your chin as he places a gentle finger beneath it and tilts your head up so you're looking right at him. his gaze holds nothing but affection, and it makes the heat burning your face and the tips of your ears worse.

he's close enough that you catch the faint scent of cologne and sweat on him, his jersey clinging to his broad shoulders. the soft warmth in his gaze makes your stomach twist, and suddenly, you feel too seen, too small in the midst of them. gojo chuckles from beside toji, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in, eyes scanning over you in a way that makes your stomach flip. “what’s with the face, princess?” he teases. “you were all confident a second ago."

your fingers twitch, and you can't stop your hand from moving to your face as you slip your glasses off, tucking them away as the insecurities settle in. maybe you'd look better without them—prettier, like the girls they're usually seen with. but the moment your glasses come off, your vision becomes hazy. toji's handsome features you were just staring at go blurry. you can feel your eyes crossing and you blink, squeezing your eyes shut as if that'll help. before you can fumble for them, sukuna, who’d been watching with a smirk, walks over and plucks your glasses from your hands with an amused scoff. "nice try, sweetheart." he mutters, carefully sliding your glasses back onto your face again, adjusting them.

the moment your vision clears and your eyes go back into focus, choso whistles lowly from his spot beside sukuna. "much better," he coos, ruffling your flat-ironed hair before tilting his head with a dramatic sigh. you open your mouth to protest, you'd rather sacrifice your sight if that meant knowing you looked good, but gojo beats you to it, his usual grin stretching wide as he leans in. "honestly, i dunno why you even tried that, you’re already gorgeous.” he says, “don’t hide this pretty face from us."

heat sizzles on your cheeks, but before you can process gojo's words, sukuna swoops in and wraps his muscular arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him until your chest is pressed against his abs. “m’ so happy our girl came to see us.” he murmurs, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, he drops his head so your foreheads are pressed against each other as the tip of your noses touch. you smile up at him, cupping his face with your hands. "alright, alright, that's enough." you hear toji say as he and the rest of the guys crowd around you two, toji makes the first move, leaning in as he starts kissing your cheek, gojo nuzzles his nose against your neck before latching his lips onto your skin, geto stands behind you as his large hands explore your waist, choso presses soft, lazy pecks along your shoulder, while sukuna smirks and tilts your chin up, stealing a quick kiss right from your lips.

you feel your heart skip a few beats as you pull back from sukuna's lips, his eyes locked onto your flushed face as he stands straight up, allowing everyone to get a good look at you. "look at 'er." toji drawls, his voice laced with amusement. "all dolled up, looking cute as hell." his green eyes drag down your body, lingering just long enough on your smooth thighs and the hem of your miniskirt to make your thighs press together. "almost too good to be true."

sukuna huffs a low laugh beside him, reaching down to toy with the edge of your skirt. "you wore this thing just for us, baby?"

"mhm!" you proudly declare, nodding your head and lightly pinching the fabric of your skirt. your lips tighten in an upside-down smile, you twirl a lock of your hair around your finger and slightly sway. even though you're shy, you crave this kind of attention. and just like that, the insecurity gnawing at you starts to fade. maybe you don't fit in with the cheerleaders, maybe you aren't as loud, as confident, as perfect as they are, but these guys don't seem to mind. in fact, they love it.

"you cold, y/n?" toji's smug expression fades into something softer, pure concern in his voice. his brows knit together as he shrugs off his jersey, pulling it over your head without waiting for an answer, the fabric heavy and warm as it falls past your knees. "there, don't get sick trying to be cute. you already are."

sukuna smacks his lips, watching toji with an amused look. "man, look at you," he drawls, shaking his head. "all soft for her like some lovesick puppy." gojo snickers, elbowing sukuna. "never thought i'd see the day when the big bad toji fushiguro gives up his jersey and his dignity in one move." toji grunts, adjusting the jersey on you like he didn't hear them. "shut up." his hand lingers on your shoulder, tugging the fabric into place, and yeah, they all see it.

"aww, she's blushing." choso calls out, smiling and patting your shoulder.

before you could respond, a sharp, piercing whistle cuts through the air. "enough." coach nanami's voice is flat, unimpressed as he walks up to the huddle with his arms crossed. his usual stern expression is set in place, brows furrowed as he glares at the group. "get your asses in gear. now." the guys groan, shaking their heads as they start to ready themselves for the game. geto sighs dramatically, stepping back. "guess we'll have to pick this up later."

"but don't go anywhere." choso gives you a pointed look, his fingers briefly squeeze your wrist before he lets go. "we wanna hear you cheering for us."

gojo smirks, reaching out to tap your chin. "loud and clear, yeah?"

"yeah," you breathe, barely registering your own voice.

you watch the three of them take off towards the middle of the field, but before sukuna follows, he quickly crouches down until his lips are at your ear. "cheer the loudest for me." his voice a raspy whisper, then he's gone, running after the others, leaving you grinning to yourself. you turn your attention back towards toji who's already staring at you. "aren't you gonna go?" you ask, nodding your head towards the field. "yeah, yeah.” he mutters, but makes no effort to leave. instead, he lets his gaze sweep over you, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “just let me admire you a little longer. you’re so damn cute wearing my jersey.”

before you can even think of a response, nanami's sharp voice cuts through the moment.

“fushiguro!”

you whip around to see coach nanami, arms crossed, his sharp eyes snapping over at you in toji’s oversized jersey. “what the hell is she doing with that on?!?!”

toji sighs, dragging a hand down his face before stepping back, but not before he tugs the fabric into place, making sure you're covered properly against the cold air. "relax, coach,“ he drawls, already jogging off toward the locker room. “i’ll grab another one.”

coach nanami exhales hard, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. his clipboard slips from his grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud. "dealing with college boys is a fucking nightmare."

he mutters something under his breath again as he bends to grab his clipboard, shaking his head like he's this close to losing it. but you barely notice it, your focus lingers on toji's retreating form, the warmth of his jersey still heavy on your body. it smells like him too, like worn leather, faded cologne, and a hint of sweat, and you fight the urge to bury your nose in it.

"you're unbelievable," coach nanami sighs, dragging you out of your thoughts.

"what?" you blink up at him with giant eyes thanks to your lenses, feigning innocence.

his tired gaze flicks between you and the team warming up on the field, then back to you, deadpan.

"just... stay out of trouble," he mutters, turning on his heel.

the stands are already packed with students, alumni, parents who think their kids are going to make it to the NFL, and locals all gathered for the championship game. the energy is buzzing. you should be focusing on that, but instead, your attention shifts to the sidelines, to them.

sukuna is the first to notice you watching, he smirks, throwing you a wink before rolling his shoulders like he's showing off. you watch how the muscles in his tattooed arms flex, and it gives you a shameful heat between your legs. geto catches on next, and even from this distance, you can see the teasing glints in his eyes. gojo, of course, takes it a step further, making a big show of blowing you a kiss. choso's stretching on the field, his eyes locked onto your figure with intense concentration.

you step onto the bleachers, slowly and quietly walking to an open spot with your cherry slushie and ketchup and mustard covered hotdog from the concession stand—your favorite. as you walk, you notice how the sound of conversation starts to die down, not all at once, but as if everyone you walked by went silent, finding staring at you to be a lot more interesting than whatever they were talking about. you keep your head down, pretending not to notice, but you can feel it. the weight of everyone's eyes on you, the murmurs passed between groups.

by the time you take a seat on the silver bleacher, it's clear, the excitement of the game or the players making their entrance, none of that is what gets people talking.

it's you.

wrapped in toji's jersey, oversized and undeniably his.

"wait, isn't that toji's?"

"yeah... why does she have it?"

"does she know him like that?"

you hear the whispers behind you, feel the stares burning into your back, some confused, some sharp with irritation. your stomach twists, a knot tightening deep in your gut as you clutch the jersey in your fist, gripping the fabric like it might somehow shield you from their scrutiny. you shift your weight, fighting the urge to shrink into yourself and disappear into the crowd. you nervously take a bite of your hotdog even though the energy you feel around you just killed your appetite.

cowering away isn't an option anymore, the cheerleaders have already seen you. and judging by the way some of them are glaring, they're not glad to see you. one of them makes a sharp scoff you can hear since your standing behind her on the bleachers, and it makes your heart sink. their boyfriends are the stars of the show, they should be the ones getting all the attention, but here you are. tucked away in an oversized jersey, the one that belongs to another girl's man, stealing glances and soft smiles that belonged to them. you don't miss the way they're eyeing you, how their perfectly manicured fingers tighten around their pom-poms, how their lips curl slightly.

"god, she's always here," one of them mutters to another under her breath, but it's loud enough for you to hear.

"it's pathetic," another sneers. "she's not even that pretty."

you swallow hard, fingers twitching at the hem of the jersey.

you knew this was coming, they've never liked you. always had something to say about how you looked, what you wore. they picked you apart about everything, and this moment brings you back to memories you'd rather forget. the worst part is, they aren't wrong. you aren't like them. you aren't a cheerleader. you don't have perfectly styled hair or expensive clothes, or the confidence to walk across campus like you own the place. you're just... you.

"focus!" coach nanami barks at the team, blowing his whistle. "game starts in five!"

you squeeze the jersey tighter in your fist, finger's twisting into the heavy fabric. okay, maybe this whole thing was a mistake. maybe you should've stayed home, watched the game from your dorm, spared yourself the humiliation—

"oi."

your head snaps up at the sound of a voice, deep and rough, cutting right through the chatter. the whispers die down almost instantly, and suddenly toji is right there. standing in his newer jersey he ran off to retrieve.

he's not looking at the crowd, not sparing the cheerleaders a glance, not paying attention to anyone except you.

"toji?" you ask, craning your head up as he reaches out, his rough fingers grazing your thigh as he tugs at the hem of his jersey. he's making sure it's still snug on your body and doing its job to keep you warm. "aren't you gonna go play?"

"yeah, i am." he mutters, but his eyes don't leave your face. his jaw tightens, turning his head to the side just for a second before he scoffs. "just didn't like the way those bitches are ogling at you." it takes you a moment to realize who he's talking about, so you shift slightly, leaning past toji's broad frame, and sure enough—you see the cheerleaders. their glossy lips are curled into little sneers, arms crossed, their eyes locked onto the two of you like they're barely restraining themselves from marching over. yeah, the loser nobody hangs out with gets to wear a football player's jersey, so what? you want it to be a silent flex that you took their man. but the practical part of you takes over, and you quickly duck back behind toji. your fingers curls around his sleeve as you press yourself against his chest.

"that's cute," he huffs out a laugh as he feels the top of your head on his abs, shaking his head. "you gonna hide beneath me all night?"

"no..." you, admittedly, felt safe hiding beneath him, as if he were a shield for everyone's current awkward staring.

"wait... are they actually—"

"what? since when?"

toji smirks, knowing exactly what he's doing, he wants them to see. "there," he murmurs, giving the fabric one last tug before letting it go. you blink up at him, lips parted, unsure of what to even say. he just grins, reaching out to ruffle your hair before turning back toward the field.

"don't move," he calls over his shoulder, voice teasing as he jogs to join the rest of the team. "gotta win this game for our girl, yeah?"

you've been holding your breath the entire time.

watching as toji plows through the defenders, and sukuna stiff-arming a smaller player on the opposing team so hard he hits the ground. "too slow, dumbass." he sneers before launching the ball across the field to geto, who catches it effortlessly, barely breaking his stride. choso is calm, his eyes narrowed as he watches the other players. the moment he sees geto launch the ball into the air towards him, he sprints. weaving through the players with percussion and catching it before tossing the ball to gojo.

you can't look.

the pressure it too much, the pounding of your heart against you ribcage is deafening in your own ears as you swallow thickly and squeeze your eyes shut.

then—

the stadium buzzer blares, the announcer screaming into the microphone, "TOUCHDOWN SCORED BY GOJO SATORU!"

they won... your boys won!

the stadium erupts, a deafening mix of cheers and screams shaking in the air as everyone jumps up, hugging and celebrating. on the field, the players swarm each other, a chaotic mix of bodies clashing victory. you catch a glimpse of the opposing team, some shaking their heads, others already trudging off the field in defeat. their coach looks like he's about to lose his mind, throwing whatever was in his hands to the ground before gripping his hair in frustration.

"yes!" you cheer, arms flying up as you beam at the celebration around you. the energy is overwhelming, everyone’s screams ringing in your ears. without thinking, you immediately rush down from the stands and onto the field. to no surpise, gojo is already rushing towards you. your feet barely hit the ground before he grabs you first by your waist, lifting you up effortlessly. "did you see that?! we won!" he laughs, spinning you around.

"i saw!" you giggle, clinging onto his shoulders. the second he sets you back on the ground, sukuna swiftly grabs you next, pulling you into his chest as he smirks against your ear. "cheered the loudest for me, huh? knew you would, sweetheart." his usual smugness is dripping from his voice.

"delusional," geto scoffs, pushing sukuna aside as he wraps his arms around you, hugging your head and inhaling the scent of your strawberry scented shampoo that still lingers in your hair. "i knew you wouldn't let us lose."

choso pulls you in next, his arms are tight but warm as he lays his head on the top of yours, murmuring a quiet, "our good luck charm."

you don't spot toji anywhere as you turn your head to scan the field, then he appears right behind you, tugging you out of geto's grip and spinning you around to look at him.

he's soaked in sweat and breathing hard, but his grin is wide and all for you. he hugs your waist tightly, "we won, baby." his voice is low, warm.

"i know, congratulations!" you breathe, grinning so hard your cheeks ache.

"don't congratulate us, sweet thing." gojo says, playing with a strand of your hair. "we owe it all to you."

"and you looked so damn cute watching us do it." toji adds, his hand squeezing your waist

before you can even roll your eyes, he yanks you up off of your feet. you gasp, legs dangling as his lips crash against yours.

the kiss makes your head full fuzzy, heat and hunger forming in your core. toji's hands are gripping your waist like he can't stand the thought of letting you go. your fingers twist into his jersey—well, his other jersey since you're still swaddled in his old one.

you forget about those lingering stares, the whispered remarks, the cheerleaders who looked at you like they wanted to murder you, the jealous glances thrown your way. the world around you slowly seems to go silent, no crowd, you judgment, nothing—just you and your boys.

"hey, don't hog her, old man," sukuna grunts, yanking you from toji's arms and into his own. his sharp grin is wicked, his hands wandering down to your plump ass and he gives it a rough squeeze,

“sukuna!" you yelp, giggling.

"sukuna," choso warns, but the way his grip on your wrist tightens betrays him too, doesn't want to let you go.

"what? can't help it." sukuna shrugs, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of toji's jersey draped over you, flipping it over your skirt as the cold air kisses your exposed skin. sukuna sharply inhales your scent, hugging you close as his whispering voice sends a sharp jolt through you. "not my fault she's so sexy."

your breath catches, but the guys don't miss it. they never do.

"getting shy, sweetheart?" geto teases, stepping behind you. "you were so confident screaming for us just a second ago."

"s'not fair," you mumble, suddenly aware of the way they're all looking at you with hungry stares. the boys who just won the biggest game of the season and only want one thing to celebrate groping you in front of everyone.

"no?" gojo tilts his head with faux innocence, "then what is fair? 'cause i think we deserve a proper reward, don't you?"

“alright, that’s enough of this,” toji grunts, he hauls you up and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. "let's show her what we really want."

“toji—?!” you squeak, your hands immediately gripping the back of his jersey as you lift your head, turning it to look at him.

“relax, sweetheart,” he says, giving your ass a playful smack that makes you jolt and kick your leg. “time for the real celebration.”

the others don’t even question it, if anything, they’re laughing, trailing closely behind as toji strides off the field with you in tow. you were always meant to end up like this, a girl in her skimpy little outfit being carried like a sack of potatoes on a man's shoulder.

“what makes you special enough to have her all to yourself?” choso huffs, his jaw ticking as his dark eyes lock onto yours. he drags his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate. with that, you remember how his cock felt in your mouth, the weight of him on your tongue, the warmth of his cock stretching your mouth, the way he groaned when you took him deeper. heat floods your face, your breath hitching at the memory. you swallows hard and immediately advert your gaze which makes him chuckle.

“well, she is wearing my jersey.” toji smirks, gripping your asscheek again as you wiggle in his hold. you feel his arm tightening over you, “keep squirming, and we’ll handle you right here.” he warns, his voice is smooth but you don’t miss the promise.

that shuts you up, you slap your hands over your face even though you wouldn’t mind if they took you right here, on the field for everyone to see.

you turn your head back around just in time to watch the last of the crowd start to clear out—parents, students, faculty leaving the stands and off the field until it’s quiet, until it’s just you and them. the atmosphere is still heavy with the buzz of the win, but none of that matters now. it’s just you and your boys alone on the field, their footsteps are slow behind toji, trailing you both across the field and toward the locker room doors. you can feel their eyes burning into your body. winning the championship wasn’t enough for them, toji’s carrying the real prize on his shoulder right now, anyways.

you know exactly how this night is gonna end.

toji carries you inside of the locker room, arms snug over your lower back. the humid air thick with sweat, musk, and testosterone floods your senses, dragging you back in time. “can you take dick, pretty girl?” your breath catches in your throat as your brain goes back to the first time you were ever here, pressed against sukuna’s muscular body, clawing at his broad shoulders and struggling to hold yourself together as you got your guts rearranged and pounded. your thighs press together as the throbbing between your legs returns, your chest rises and falls too fast, fingers tangling in toji's jersey.

“you’re quiet all of a sudden,” gojo murmurs behind him, looking at you. “what’s wrong?”

you look up at him, head titled slightly with your lips caught between your teeth.

sukuna leans in close, his grin sharp. “she remembers," he clicks his tongue. "don’t you, baby?"

of course you do. how could you forget? it was your first time getting fucked, your first time getting your poor virgin cunt stretched open by huge athletic dick and they didn't even bother to go easy on you. you remember the way you sobbed, begging for the break you never got.

how could they forget?

“she’s getting all shy,” geto teases, reaching out to brush his knuckles down your arm as you cling onto toji’s back.

“actin' like we haven’t seen every inch of this pretty body,” toji chuckles, squeezing a greedy handful of your ass as he shifts his hold, cradling you in his arms bridal style before he lowers you down so you can sit on the bench.

you sit in front of them, shrinking beneath their gazes, surrounded. everywhere you look is a tall, horny body that's already had you and wants you again. deja vu settles into you as you swallow thickly, looking up and giving them doe eyes.

choso steps forward, fingers curling around your waist, thumbs pressing lightly into your hips. he bends to your height, his dark eyes stare into yours as he tilts his head with a soft expression. “do you remember how it felt?” he whispers, voice ghosting over your lips. “right here, on this bench? you were shaking so bad.”

your eyes soften as you nod, slow and shy, lips parting just slightly.

"aww," gojo coos, grinning at you as he crouches beside you. "she's nervous. you're not scared of us now, are you?"

"i'm not," you whisper, voice small.

you say you aren't nervous, aren't nervous for another around of five dicks taking you again, that sounds amazing in your mind, in fact, but your body language gives you away. your fingers twist at the hem of toji's jersey, and your breath stutters when choso's hand grazes your shoulder, his palm warm against your skin.

“she’s remembering how good i felt inside of ‘er,” sukuna chimes, his voice dark with amusement as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. “bet her cute little pussy’s already making a mess in those panties.”

“i think she liked it too much last time,” geto hums. his fingers slip beneath jersey, dipping into the waistband of your skirt, he tugs the fabric off of your belly gently, letting it snap back against your skin. “look at her squirm.” you gasp slightly, feeling geto’s fingertips trace patterns across your stomach.

toji’s hand returns to your thigh as he takes a seat on the bench next you, thumb drawing lazy, possessive circles just beside the edge of your panties. “still so soft,” he mumbles. “you want it again, don’t you?” he’s looking at you, green eyes trailing over your features. “you wanna feel our dicks streching every opening you have out?”

truth is, you’re not shy because they’ve fucked you before. you’re wondering if they’re noticing the acne dotting your cheeks, if they think your braces make you look juvenile, if your glasses—those stupid, ridiculously thick things—make your eyes look comically big. you glance away, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“hey,” toji murmurs, voice dipping low as his hand catches your chin, turning your face gently back to him. “don’t hide. you look so fucking cute like this.”

you glance over at him, lips parted and your breaths shallow. there’s no hiding it right now, they read you an open book. the heat in your chest spreads all the way to your core. a smile curls across your face, right now you’re just a shy, but eager thing. “yeah,” you breathe. “i do.”

“see? there’s our smile.” toji grins down at you, pinching your cheek playfully before standing upright and steppiing back. “hmm,” sukuna hums, already stalking closer. “you’re still wearing too many clothes.” his fingers tug at the hem of the oversized jersey still draped over your body, his jaw ticks, eyes narrowed. “you should be wearing mine.” he mutters beneath his breath, a smug look curling his lips.

“strip.”

the single word cuts though the air. you immediately snap your head up at sukuna as his words cut through the air. your heart skips beats as your lips part. you blink, pulse thudding in your own ears. they—they want you to take your clothes off? right here, in front of them? by yourself? you hesitate for a bit, and the air around you grows hot and still, five sets of eyes are locked in you now, and they all look like they’re about to pounce on you.

“uhmmm,” you scratch your head, blinking. “you… want me to get naked?”

“duh.” geto says, smirking as he crosses his arm. “you’ve got two hands for a reason.”

the others chuckle lowly, the kind of laugh that sends heat crawling up your neck. your eyes flick between each of them, choso watches you with that quiet, shy, pink-colored blush across his cheeks, he’s patient. toji leans back with a knowing smirk, like he’s already seen this play out in his head. sukuna looks like he’s gonna tear those damn clothes off of you himself, his jaw tight. gojo’s gaze is steady and unreadable, but you know he’s growing impatient as well. and geto? he’s already palming his heavy, budging cock through his uniform, shameless and nearly shaking with arousal.

“hm, okay!” your fingers curl beneath the hem jersey as you pull it over your head, gently placing on the bench behind you. you pull your shoes off then your socks, leaving you in nothing but your crop top and your miniskirt. the cool air in the room brushes your exposed skin, hardening your nipples beneath your shirt. you slowly begin to lift your top, rolling the fabric up inch by inch, reaching the soft swells of your breast. their gazes don’t waver, if anything, they darken. then comes your skirt, you hook your thumbs under the waistband, shimmying down your hips, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. now, you’re standing before them in nothing but your magenta thong.

“fuck,” toji exhales, his eyes darkening as he looks you over. “you look even better than i remember.”

they can see the outline of your cunt, the thin strip of your soaked thong barely covering anything. the shiny jewelry in your belly button catches the light, drawing attention to how it glistens so perfectly against your skin. choso silently moves toward you, gently spinning you around until your back rests against his chest. he leans down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. you follow suit as you move your arm to cup his face with your hand. his palms glide over the soft curve of your belly, squeezing your waist before one hand snakes down past the band of your panties.

you gasp into choso's mouth as your tongue laps around with his, his fingers sliding between your slick folds. you feel their hands all over your body, tracing your hips, brushing your arms, tugging the thin band on your panties that could easily rip. the way you feel so open, right there and available makes you hornier than ever. gojo's in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed his bulge onto your barely cunt through your thin lace thong. your eyes fly open as you feel it, the pulse right beneath you and begging to feel your warm walls gushing around it when you cum. someone's lips are on your neck, their teeth gently scraping your skin. you can tell it's geto's breath brushing against the shell of your ear, his hands palming your soft, plump sss as his fingers curl into the plush of it.

choso pulls back from the kiss, a line of spit connects your lips to his as he stares down at you. "you gonna be good for us, pretty girl?" he huffs, catching his breath after kissing you. "bet that mouth of yours could make us all see starts." before you can even answer, gojo presses his twitching cock through his uniform harder against your wet cunt, feeling your juices start to leak out and seep through the fabrics. "you remember how good we made you feel last time, hm? how sweet you sounded with your mouth full?" he laughs softly as he feels you tremble, pressing a kiss on the side of your face.

choso slides his hand along your waist, eyes soft but dark with lust. "you can handle us," he murmurs. "we'll go slow. or not." his fingers hook beneath the band of your panties as he tugs them down until they pool around your ankles, leaving your cunt exposed for all of them to see. he picks you up, carrying you back to the bench, your back pressed against his back. "spread it, show everyone how much you want it." he whispers into your ear. you spread your puffy cunt apart, showing off your glistening pink insides. "like this?" choso keeps your legs up by locking his arms around the back of your knees, making sure you're absolutely on display and vulnerable.

"fuck, she looks so delicious and innocent." you hear someone murmur. you watch toji crouch down between your legs, licking his lips and staring at your leaking cunt. "been thinking about how sweet this pussy tastes since last time. "aaah!" a whimper slips out of your mouth as he lowers his head and licks a long stripe up your slit. the moan that rips from your mouth is cut short, because sukuna grabs your jaw and turns your head towards him.

"you're not getting off that easy, open up and let me feed you this dick." he doesn't wait for you to nod, his twitching cock is already thick and heavy in his hand as he pressed it against your lip. "and don't use your teeth, we can't have those braces getting in the way, can we?" your body jolts as toji's tongue flicks against your clit, hot and relentless, and you part your lips on instinct, letting sukuna slide past your tongue. the stretch burns, but you moan around him anyway.

"that's it," sukuna growls, one hand tangled in your hair and the other cradling your jaw as he starts to fuck your mouth slowly. "fucking perfect." toji groans between your legs, fingers spreading you wider as he licks you open. "she's dripping," he growls. "tastes like she's been waiting for this."

above you, gojo chuckles, cock already out and twitching in his hand. your lips are stretch around sukuna's dick gojo grabs your hand and sticks his cock inside, you instinctively stoke it as gojo reaches down to your cunt to gather your slick and spread it all around his shaft. your hips twitch against toji's face, trying to grind down and he answers with a rough suck to your clit that makes you moan around sukuna's dick as he grabs a handful of hair from the back of your head and forces your head against his pelvis.

"she's close," choso says as he watches, feeling your body jerk against him as he moves one of his hands to play with your boob. and that's when you feel another tongue making laps around your clit alongside toji's. your eyes fly open as you pull sukuna's cock out of your mouth to watch geto and toji licking your pussy like it's the best thing they've ever tasted.

"guys—aaah!" you whimper, grinding harder against both of their faces and you feel it, you feel yourself squirt as the move move to watch it. "good girl!" toji praises as him and geto lap up your juices, geto moves a bit lower to clean up the mess you just made that's leaking down into your tightest hole. your jaw aches, throat raw from taking sukuna so deep, and your arm burns from how tightly you're stroking gojo, but you don't stop. you can't stop. not when toji and geto are making you see stars with their tongues, their mouths warm and wet, taking turns sucking and licking until your thighs twitch uncontrollably.

and through it all, choso keeps you steady in his lap, hands soft on your tits, fingers rubbing your nipples until they're painfully hard and sensitive.he's murmuring against your temple, saying things you can barely hear over the moaning and slick sounds around you.

then, slowly, the touches start to fade.

toji pulls back from between your legs first, his mouth wet with your slick. "look at you," he pants. "fucking wrecked already." you whimper as geto presses one last kiss on your clit before rising to his feet, eyes dark and hungry. gojo huffs a soft laugh, grabbing your chin and making you look at all of them standing over you now.

"who's taking her first?" sukuna grunts, still stroking his cock lazily in his hand. "she's soaked."

"i'll do it," toji says without hesitation, already peeling off his clothes, his cock thick and hard as it bounces free. "i need to feel that tight little pussy gushing around my cock." choso eases you off his lap and helps you lie back on the bench, legs still trembling and glistening. your limbs feel like jello, but you arch your back on all fours, aching for more.

toji steps between your legs, his hands rough as they grab your hips and drag you toward the edge. he spreads you open with his thumbs, groaning at the sight of your dripping hole. "still so fucking wet," he mutters. "you want me to stretch you out, baby?"

you nod helplessly, tongue still thick from sukuna's cock. your voice comes out soft and ruined. "yes... please." you arch your back deeper snd sway your ass, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing and begging to be filled up to the brim. you look back at toji with glossy eyes as your cheek is pressed against the bench

toji holds the base of his thick cock, dragging his fat mushroom tip between your slick folds as it bumps your clit with makes you mewl. "mmmph, p-put it in already!" you softly beg, which makes the guys chuckle. "she's so cock drunk already, dumb little whore." gojo teases. toji lines himself up and pushes inside, slow at first-but he's big, and you feel the burning stretch all the way to your lungs. your back arches with a cry ripping from your throat.

"fuck, she's tight," toji groans, hands bruising on your hips as he starts to thrust, steady and deep. you feel his tip pushing so far inside of you, poking your gut as you wrap your arm around you belly, feeling the shape of his dick bulging through you. he lands a glob of spit onto your asshole, rubbing it around your little hole with the pad of his thumb as he starts to slowly slip it inside.

the others circle around, watching, stroking themselves, eyes locked on where tojl's cock disappears into your soaked cunt over and over and dragging out covered in a thick sheet of your slick. "look at how she's gripping him," gojo murmurs, his hand sliding down your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw. "bet she's gonna cum just from getting filled."

"won't last long," sukuna smirks, fisting his cock. "not when she's clenching like that."

toji grins down at you, sweat dripping from his brow. he watches as a white ring of your arousal bubbles at his shaft, his cock starts to leak precum which makes it easier from him to slip in and out of you faster as he picks the up the pace. your plush ass jiggles against his abdomen as he yanks your free arm behind your back. "you gonna cum for me first, sweetheart? show them how good i fuck you?"

your body answers before you can. the orgasm tears through you suddenly, violently, your legs kicking, cunt pulsing around toji's cock as he growls and fucks you through it. you're barely holding on, legs trembling, body slick with sweat and spit and cum. tojl's still panting above you, cock twitching as he pulls out and lets your pussy drip down onto the bench, but not before he buries himself until his red tip is flush against your cervix, releasing his own load of hot, stick cum as it squirts out in thick ropes. he licks his lips as he looks at your raw, pink hole—all stretched open and used :( you think maybe they'll let you rest, after they all watched you get fucked like that, there’s only so much a girl can take.

they don't.

"you didn't think we were done, did you?" sukuna laughs, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over like you weigh nothing. you squeal, dizzy, arms trembling as you brace yourself on all fours. choso is already lying back on the bench, thick cock standing straight up between his legs. "come here, baby," he murmurs, pulling you toward him. you straddle him instinctively, thighs trembling as you lower yourself onto his length, your cunt already dripping and eager as his tip starts to split your entrance open. he groans, head tipping back with his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady. "fuck—just like that."

sukuna's behind you again, his cock resting heavy between your cheeks, "hold her open," he barks, choso's hands slide to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and holding you open wide for sukuna's gaze. your breath catches. "you ready to take both?" choso groans, lining himself up beneath your drooling pussy while sukuna's cock rests against your tight, untouched hole. he spits, the filthy sound echoing in the locker room as lands on your hole. sukuna rubs the head of his against your rim, letting his precum smear around your hole with the spit. "she's shaking." choso breathes, looking up at with, concerned tangled with lust.

"she can take it," sukuna grins, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "she's our little toy, remember?" you breath catches, then turns into a scream as sukuna pushes histhe first stretch making your whole body tense. choso pushes into your soaked cunt at the same time sukuna starts to press into your ass, both of them groaning low as they stuff you full from both ends. it hurts-it burns-but it's so much, too much, and your body starts to melt into it.

"fuck, she's tight," choso hisses. "gripping me like she was made for this." sukuna moans against your back, lips brushing your spine. "she's squeezing me too," he pants. "she's fucking perfect." their thrusts start slow but get brutal fast. they pound into you like they're competing, their cocks dragging over every sensitive spot until you're screaming, drooling, babbling nonsense. you feel like you're going to break apart. choso’s hand slide to your hips to give your movement, “you’re taking us so well…” he whispers.

gojo's in front of you again, stroking his cock lazily. "look at her," he laughs. "fucked so dumb she doesn't even know what hole is getting filled."he grabs your face, slaps your cheek lightly, and taps his cock against your lips. “open up, baby.” you do, instantly, and he slides it into your mouth. you moan around him as sukuna slams into your ass and choso drives his cock deeper into your dripping cunt from beneath you. drool drips down your chin as he gojo feeds his fat cock to you. "good girl," he breathes, both hands holding your head steady as he starts to fuck your throat. "that's it. choke on it."

your body jolts with every thrust, stuffed to the brim, brain melted into nothing but desperate moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. you're just a hole for them now, for everyone, used and filled. behind you, sukuna bites into your shoulder and growls through his teeth. his thrust grown sloppier as he chases his high, you feel both of their cocks throbbing in both of your holes and your body jerks from the force of it. choso’s breath is hit against your chest, his moans muffled by your bouncing tits. the bench creaks under all of you. their bodies slapping into yours. then, they both cum at once, sukuna spilling into your ass, choso filling your pussy to the brim. as sukuna buries himself to the hilt in your ass and groans through his orgasm, choso bucks one last time into your soaked pussy and spills everything he has inside you. your body sags, twitching under the weight of it all-cum leaking from both holes, drool sliding from your lips.

you moan around gojo's cock as the hot rush of it floods you, leaking down your thighs instantly. a creamy mess of white oozes out from both your holes, slicking your thighs and pooling on the bench beneath you.

"fuck," sukuna hisses. "you're ruined."

"nah," choso murmurs, feeling his own cum start to force his cock to slip out of your pussy. "she's perfect."

"our perfect little cumdump," he breathes, reaching down to rub your clit with slow, lazy circles. "still twitching."

"and she's gonna take more," gojo growls, snapping his hips hard. "hold still." he groans as he slips is cock from your mouth, slapping it on your puffy lips before sukuna pulls out of your asshole, choso lifts your hips up as his own cum forces his cock to slip out.

you barely register the shift, feel strong arms hook under your knees, yanking you upright with shocking ease. your legs are bent, spread wide, and your arms are suddenly pinned up over your head, trapped behind gojo's neck as he locks you in place.

gojo groans, still fucking your cunt . he pulls out just long enough for geto to kneel between your legs, licking at your clit while gojo pushes into your pussy, still wet and dripping with choso's cum.

"full nelson, baby," gojo breathes against your ear, lips curling. "you ever been fucked like this?" his cock grinds between your slick folds, nudging your overstimulated clit. you can't respond, your voice is caught in your throat. your body bounces in his hold, tits jiggling, cunt clenching around him, already soaking wet and leaking down his shaft. he fucks up into you mercilessly, using you like a fleshlight while you whimper and twitch. "nah, didn't think so. let me show you how it feels to be completely helpless."

you can't even speak, then he trusts up into you, hard. your whole body jolts in his grip, helpless and suspended, your cunt stretched again and again as gojo fucked uo into you mercilessly. your tits brunch, spit and tears streak your face and your pussy drools around his cock, dripping everything choso left behind. "so full," gojo groans. "tight little hole milking me."

geto crouches in front of you, watching your ruined face with a hungry smile. "still drooling," he murmurs, before leaning in to suck your clit between his lips, his hand sliding up to cradle gojo's balls, massaging them gently. "fuck, look at her, gojo pants, snapping his lips harder. "can't even talk."

you can't. not when geto's tongue flicks your clit and gojo's cock hits that spot so perfect inside of you. "g-gojo! m' gonna cum..." geto crouches in front of you, watching your face twist with every thrust. "look how fucked out she is," he says, licking his lips. "still drooling." you look down at geto who's already looking up at you, making eye contact as you watch his tongue move so fast on your clit it's almost a pink blur.

he leans in closer, sucking your clit into his mouth with a rough pull that makes your eyes roll back. he doesn't stop there, his hand slides to cup gojo's balls, massaging them while gojo pounds you like he's trying to rearrange your guts. "still so fucking tight," gojo huffs, snapping his hips up hard. "you're gonna milk another load out of me, aren't you? greedy little thing."

your moan rips out of your throat as he lifts you higher, thighs trembling. his cock pushes in slow, stretching you open, making you feel every inch as he sinks into the mess choso left behind. you can't think. geto's tongue on your clit, gojo's cock pounding into your stuffed cunt, your body jerking from overstimulation and pleasure that borders on pain. "she's full," geto groans, tongue circling your clit while his hand reaches up to massage gojo's balls as they slap against your ass. your moans come in helpless little sobs, your body shaking as another orgasm crashes down on you.

"fuck, i'm close," gojo groans. "you feel that? gonna fill you up too, baby. you're gonna be dripping with all of us." gojo grunts as he buries himself deep and cums inside, warmth flooding you all over again, hips stuttering, and geto groans as he sucks at your clit until your whole body convulses. he laps up gojo's cum and your squirt as it leaks down his ballsack. gojo pulls out, putting you down and laying you back on the bench in the old cum.

when he finally lowers you down, your thighs are trembling, your holes leaking and fluttering.

they leave you there for a moment, gasping, twitching.

then toji grabs your chin and lifts your head. "show us."

you blink, dazed. "h-huh?"

"show us your pussy," gojo grins, sweat-slick and panting. "show us how messy you are."

they help you onto your back, spreading your thighs wide. you reach down with trembling hands, spreading your pussy lips apart to show them how absolutely ruined you are. thick, creamy cum leaking from your holes, glistening, sticky and shiny with sweat and spit.

your shaky fingers are still between your legs, holding yourself open, letting them stare at the mess they've made of you-every fold glistening with slick and cum, leaking down your thighs and soaking into the bench.

"don't close 'em," sukuna warns when your legs start to tremble. "keep it spread, slut. you wanted this, remember?"

you nod weakly, your face burning, throat too raw to speak.

"good girl," gojo grins, ruffling your hair like you're some dumb little pet. "now show us how much you love it. c'mon—play with that messy little pussy, make it nasty."

your breath hitches, but you obey. fingers dipping into the warmth leaking out of you, smearing it over your clit. your legs jerk instantly, the overstimulation sharp and brutal, but you keep rubbing slow, wet circles, cunt twitching as they all watch.

geto crouches beside you again, brushing a thumb down your cheek. "look at that," he murmurs.

"you're so ruined, and you're still getting off. are you proud of yourself, little cumrag?"

"say it," choso mutters, hand wrapping around his half-hard cock again. "tell us what you are."

"i'm-i'm your c-cumrag," you whimper, eyes filling with tears as you keep touching yourself. "just your-fuck—just your hole. i like it. i wanna be used. i wanna be filled-again—"

"she's close again," gojo says with a laugh. "what a filthy fucking girl."

you cry out, hips jerking as you rub yourself harder, the pressure bubbling too fast-your whole body shaking as another orgasm slams through you, muscles tensing so tight you nearly collapse.

"fuck, you're so cute when you break," sukuna huffs.

you go limp, breath ragged, your fingers still slick with their cum and your own.

then, finally, someone lifts you up.

"alright, you did good," choso says softly. "let's clean you up." he carries you into the showers as the others follow. you barely register it, too dazed to move on your own, but warm water starts to rush down your back. you're in the locker room shower, pressed to gojo's chest as he holds you upright while the others wash you off gently, soap slides over your sore body, rinsing away all the filth, but their touches linger-soft, teasing, affectionate.

"we'll get you dirty again soon," geto promises, brushing your hair back from your face with a kiss to your temple.

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤshield ! reader ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤpart one !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBITTER REUNIONS.

summary soldier boy's first stop in his grand return is to collect his suit and his shield, only to find out just how different & bittersweet things have become in his absenceㅤㅤㅤwarnings feminine rage, discussions of trauma, hurt/hurt because there's no comfortㅤㅤㅤword count 2.5k

ㅤㅤㅤTHE FLATSCREEN TELEVISION SCREEN CRACKLES IN THE LEGEND'S LIVING ROOM SPACE. on it, a basketball game, two teams that you've never given a shit about, but it's what the legend likes to watch, and so you sit on the worn-out couch and do what you've always done: endure other people's shit, and bite the hand that feeds you.

you would think by now that he knows you better than this. that you pick a fight every single time he flips through the channels with the device he won't tell you the name of, lest you figure out how to access the internet and learn how to use it. that you have smashed three of his televisions in your time with him.

frederick vought warned the legend before he'd handed you over. his words were slurred, tired, defeated — but they were clear enough to still be used against you, repeated by many who encountered you.

she is a cruel one, that shield i've reconstructed.

cruel, indeed.

"i do not want to watch," you shout across the empty space, making a furious reach across the sofa to snatch the television stick off of the other side's abandoned cushion. the bell to the door rang ten minutes earlier, and the old man had yet to return.

you glare at the screen, as if you could will it to silence with nothing but your mind. impossible, of course; at least, you hadn't been successful yet. you hated the buzz of high pitched chatter in the televised crowd, the way it crawled into the crevices of your mind through the passages of your ears and nested.

a furious growl leaves your lips, and you rise to your feet, steps away from the bright screen. you are cruel, and everyone thinks so, but you have kindness tucked away in your rage, sometimes. the score is 120-88. you take note of it, shoving the numbers into your pocket, before you slam the remote into the screen.

the shards of glass that embed into your hand don't hurt. your lips twist into an irritated scowl at the sight of them, plucking out each piece and littering it on the hardwood floor. the remote is in pieces, too, crushed in the tight squeeze of your hand.

you release your grip, letting each piece crumble to the ground with loud thumps. fury crackles through you, acid burning in your bloodstream. it is unlike the man you've been stuck with to abandon you to your own devices for so long. it is also unlike him to force you to watch something you do not like in his absences.

you liked jersey shore, and the real housewives. you liked seeing girls like you get to live lives you'd never get to. it was therapeutic and gutwrenching all at once, and that only added to the fuel of your anger, crackling inside of you.

the walk you take down the lengthy hallway into the part of his home that you were strictly forbidden from was punctuated by the echo of your stomping feet. these were the parts of the house that the legend kept locked. the front entrance, the actual living room, and the man's own bedroom. all places that he deemed his, and all places with quick access to the public, meaning exits.

it was not a laboratory. but it was not a home, either.

your fist slams on the wood of the door, right into the indent of it that you'd already created. this was not the first time that you'd broken down this door. it wouldn't be the last, with how many secrets he kept locked away from you, and how much of the world you were forbidden to see.

"open the door, legend, or i'm going to pummel your fucking skull—"

"enough of that." his voice is muffled when it cuts through your threats, close enough that he sounds like he is right on the other side of the wood. you slam your fist into it again, hard enough for the wood to splinter in the center of your indentation. "enough, indy. i'm comin' back."

"you left the fucking game on." you throw your hand backwards in gesture, even though he can't see it. that was easy enough to fix. you punch through the splintered wood, creating a fist shaped hole to the other side. "you know i hate watching men play games."

the legend is used to your antics by now, and so he doesn't flinch at the break. you see enough of his face to note the downward scowl, and the disappointment behind his dark glasses. "you don't much like the women playing them, either."

"because it is not fun." didn't he understand by now? you were a girl locked away, punished for being created and what you were shaped into. you did not get fun of your own, so you needed some kind of outlet to drown yourself into. it was no wonder that you were thought of as a monster. your only glimpses of the sunny skies were in the gaps of the legend's barred off windows. titanium, so it was not impossible for you to bend them, but it was not an easy feat.

he sighs through his nose, smoke curling around his face from the cigar in his fingers. "two minutes, indy." he holds up two fingers, as if he thought you could not fucking count or comprehend how long two minutes was. "that's all i need."

"who the fuck is in there?" another voice asks, deep and rough and familiar. so familiar. forty years was enough time to age someone — you knew this from how the legend looks now, compared to when he'd first had to take you in — and yet...

the legend's eyes dart over to the source of the voice at the same time as yours do. recognition comes in the form of a racing heartbeat. it builds, and crescendos, and suddenly you are shaking as you beat on the door again. "whoa, whoa, whoa—"

each time he got the door redone stronger. soon enough, he'd have a door made of titanium guarding his proper guests from the rest of his house, and from you.

no one could know about you, not when you were the makings of a sick imagination burrowed in an intelligent man's head.

that did not mean you didn't try. it was such a lonely life, locked away in a penthouse with a man that grew closer and closer to dying with each passing year, and no one knowing anything of what you'd become.

the anger flares, flames licking at the electric sparks in your veins. the door crumbles with one harsher hit, and you're standing in the space you're kept from. you've been here before, never permitted past this doorway, always whisked away before you can get a breath of fresh air.

"hi, sweetheart," soldier boy says, one corner of his mouth curled high in an arrogant smile. bold of him to still carry the same confidence he did back when you knew him, when now, he was in nothing but sweatpants and a zip-up jacket almost too small for his frame. his green eyes stay on you as he says over your shoulder, "she's young. can you even fuckin' keep up with her?"

your eyes flare. it's two steps to be in front of him, and the third is just for good measure, when you clock him in the chin. his head snaps backwards, surprise making him stumble backwards a step.

soldier boy rubs at the skin of his jaw, irritation as bright as your anger staring back at you. you know the calm he wears in his expression. it barely conceals a storm, brewing beneath the surface. you know it because you'd often been the weapon he chose in these moods of his. you know it because you adopted that ire yourself.

"that's enough." the legend steps over the broken pieces of his door, grimacing at the splinters littering the ground. "indy, enough."

you glance over your shoulder to eye the man's expression, trying to determine what he was feeling by look alone. he was not capable of hurting you, nothing was, but he knew how to weaponize words when you upset him, all of which only steeled your skin further.

there is not enough damage in the world you can inflict onto soldier boy to make up for the things he did with you. bashed skulls, took bullets, burnt her steel until she glowed vibrant orange. you expected him to be dead. you wanted him to have been dead, if only so you'd be spared from this moment. but you never got what you wanted. no jersey shore, no fresh air, and no freedom from soldier boy.

you raise your arm to deck him again, but his fingers close around your wrist tightly, tugging it harshly back down. his smirk says everything you need to know about how much he knows. he does not know that you've learned all of his weaknesses, and that he often left himself vulnerable in times when he thought he had the upperhand.

you yank him toward you in the same moment as you ream your knee straight into his cock.

soldier boy stutters on a groan, releasing his grip on you like you’d burnt him. you don’t relish in his pain, or the surprise that you could hurt him. it’s not enough.

the legend gives you the same disappointed look you’re used to getting from him, his head shaking in disapproval. “i locked the door for a reason.”

“you always say this.” you turn on your heel, jamming your finger into the center of his chest. you missed the days when he cowered under your anger and attitude, now it only seemed to exhaust him. “you always lock the door for a reason, and then it is just grace. you do not even let me see grace.”

“and look what happened the time you decided to break the rules.” the legend nods behind you, toward the man you do not turn to look at again. his footsteps are heavy as they approach. “this is what i keep you away from. the possibility of this.”

the urge to break every bone on the older man’s face is almost enough to overtake any rational thinking inside of you. he must see it, because he shakes his head again. “stand down.”

“where’s my suit?” soldier boy asks from behind you, and you still in place. he’s too close. every instinct of fight clicks into gear, the safety off as the bullets load up.

the legend nods down the hallway, in the direction of your space. you had so little that you could call your own. the bigger of the guest bedrooms was yours, shared only in the terms of the collectibles he kept in the expansive closet.

you knew soldier boy’s suit was in there. you could smell the tobacco and the whiskey from it, sometimes, from the safety of your bed. you sometimes could catch a whiff of cologne, on days where you let go of the mask that you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. when you wished upon a star outside of your barred windows that just one person would find you again.

“you cannot go in there.” you are already starting down the hallway, eager to reach your room before any of them could.

all of your fury was gone. stand down was an order. a kill switch programmed into you to bury all of the tension that often broke free of your restraints. it was not safe, vought once said to you when you were a child, to have a girl who can’t break without a few weaknesses. a few. some of which you didn’t even know, but your mind did.

there wasn’t any electricity in your veins anymore, but there was bleeding desperation. no, they could not invade your space. it defeated the purpose of having it. it would force the legend to open the rooms he locked away from you, too, and you knew he wouldn’t ever. if you granted either of these men an inch, they’d take a mile, and crush you in the process.

“he needs his suit, indy.”

your nose twitches, fighting against the command still ringing in your head. you grit your teeth, jaw clenched tightly. “he needs nothing.”

“who the fuck is this?” soldier boy asks again, and he’s relentless in his pursuit now, coming for your space with the authority of a man who has never been told no in his life. “get out of the way, sweetheart, or you won’t like how this blows up in your face.”

he had hurt you before. you were not human then, but you remembered all of the aches of it. you knew that soldier boy did not goad before he hurt you, or make bold-faced threats. he was lying.

you tilt your chin up, holding the eye contact. he was an unkind man, cruel in every crevice — but so were you, weren’t you? how evil it was to see yourself reflected in a man you hated, who you wanted to break into pieces and burn so all of the tears you shed fizzled away with him. “you will not like what you see.”

soldier boy cocks an eyebrow. “y’think i’m gonna hold it over your head if you’ve got a pair of panties left out?”

you step back into your room, all clean and panty free, and wait for him to take the step to follow you before you slam the door against his nose. the door rattles in the frame. soldier boy, on the other side, grunts in surprise, before he kicks at the hinges.

“that is enough!” the legend’s voice rips through the expansive space of his penthouse, his cane clicking across the floor. “i am not losing two fucking doors to this childish shit.”

you’ve moved, now. you can’t prevent soldier boy from busting down your door, but you can prevent them from fully infiltrating your bedroom. you go into the closet, to the deeper parts lined with memorabilia that you tried to ignore every time you were in here, and snatch the army green suit off of the hanger.

your eyes catch on the shield, hung up on the back wall. useless now. all of its indestructibility existed within you now, making it nothing but a heavy disc of metal.

tucking it under one arm, you hurry back to your bedroom, the arguing male voices outside getting aggravated enough that you know the door is about to crumble.

you knew soldier boy. you knew he could not help but exert some sort of dominance, if he could, to feel more in control. but you would not be in there when he came in and saw the display left on your bed.

instead, you tucked away in your closet, closing your eyes to try and find any sort of solace in the solitude. as always, it did nothing but squeeze tight around you, trapping you in a cage of your own making.

you can hear the exact moment your door is kicked down, along with the moment that soldier boy sees his things laid out for him. his suit, unwrinkled and unmarred. his physical shield, dented and decimated and as light as a kitchen plate.

and his real shield, hiding away from the reality that your nightmares always seemed to catch up to you.

notes. believe it or not i did not start this with the idea that indy was going to be so rapunzel. but it makes sense </3 there's a lot of lore i'm going to slowly incorporate that is hinted at in here / spawned from this so <3 perfect starting point! cannot WAIT for the boys^tm to meet this lil thing. hope u guys love her like i do my lil evil princess !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz

[estapa-edwards]

can you do a Jack Hughes x reader on their engagement day. Like Jack is awarded with something within the New Jersey devils and takes pictures with family and ends up giving reader a signed game worn jersey asking her for a hand in marriage and reader says yes, he also gets down on one knee and gives reader an big diamond ring. Thanks❤���❤️❤️❤️

ENGAGEMENT - J.HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 1.3k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

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

The night was electric at the Prudential Center, home of the New Jersey Devils. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation as fans poured in, eager for a night of celebration and hockey. It wasn’t just any game night; it was a night dedicated to honoring Jack Hughes, the Devils' rising star. Jack had been awarded the prestigious title of the team's Most Valuable Player, a testament to his incredible season and growing influence in the NHL. But for Jack, this night held an even more significant meaning.

Y/N stood among the crowd, her heart swelling with pride as she watched Jack take the ice. The spotlight followed him, illuminating his journey from a promising rookie to a celebrated player. She knew how hard he had worked, the countless hours of practice, the physical and mental challenges, and the unwavering determination that had brought him to this moment.

As the ceremony commenced, the arena's giant screens played highlights of Jack's best plays. The crowd erupted in cheers with every goal and assist, their admiration for Jack palpable. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness. She had been by Jack's side through it all, his biggest supporter and confidante.

Jack's family was also present, their faces beaming with pride. His parents, Ellen and Jim Hughes, stood alongside his brothers, Quinn and Luke, all sharing in the joy of Jack's achievement. The Hughes family had always been close-knit, their bond unbreakable. Y/N felt a warm connection with them, having been welcomed into their family with open arms.

As the ceremony reached its peak, the Devils' captain handed Jack a trophy, recognizing him as the MVP. The crowd's applause was deafening. Jack, usually composed, had a hint of emotion in his eyes as he held the trophy aloft. He took the microphone, his voice steady but filled with gratitude.

"Thank you all for this incredible honor," Jack began. "I couldn't have done this without the support of my teammates, coaches, and, of course, my amazing family. You all have been my rock."

His gaze shifted towards Y/N, his eyes locking with hers. "And to Y/N," he continued, his voice softening, "you've been my biggest supporter, my partner through thick and thin. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to share this journey with."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. The crowd cheered once more, but all she could focus on was Jack, his words resonating deeply within her.

After the ceremony, Jack was whisked away for photos with his family and team. Y/N watched from the sidelines, her heart brimming with love and admiration. She saw Jack's interactions with his family, the genuine smiles and laughter they shared. It was evident how much this moment meant to all of them.

Jack caught Y/N's eye and waved her over. "Come on, Y/N, join us!" he called, his smile wide and inviting. She made her way over, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The photographer positioned them, and they took several photos, capturing the joy and pride of the night.

As the photoshoot wrapped up, Jack turned to Y/N, his expression serious yet tender. "There's one more thing I need to do," he said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a game-worn jersey, his number emblazoned on the back. The jersey was a symbol of his journey, the sweat and effort he had poured into every game.

"Y/N," Jack began, holding the jersey out to her, "this is for you. It's more than just a piece of clothing; it's a part of my journey, a journey that I want you to continue being a part of."

Y/N took the jersey, her hands trembling slightly. She looked up at Jack, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Jack, I—"

But before she could finish, Jack took a deep breath and got down on one knee. The arena seemed to hold its breath, the crowd falling silent as they realized what was happening. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its brilliance catching the light and sparkling like a thousand stars.

"Y/N," Jack said, his voice filled with emotion, "you’ve been with me through every high and low. You’ve supported me, believed in me, and loved me unconditionally. I can't imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she looked at Jack, her heart overflowing with love. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Yes, Jack, I will marry you."

The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers echoing through the arena. Jack slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger and stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. They shared a kiss, the world around them fading away as they celebrated their love and commitment.

The Devils' mascot, NJ Devil, danced around them, adding a touch of humor to the heartfelt moment. Jack's teammates and family surrounded them, their congratulations and well-wishes blending with the cheers of the fans. It was a moment of pure joy, a perfect culmination of Jack's achievements on the ice and his love off it.

As the night continued, the celebration grew. The Devils won their game, adding to the night's happiness. Y/N and Jack found themselves at the center of attention, their engagement the talk of the evening. They took more photos, with Y/N proudly wearing Jack's game-worn jersey, a symbol of their shared journey.

Jack's parents embraced Y/N, welcoming her officially into their family. "We're so happy for you both," Ellen said, tears of joy in her eyes. "You’ve always been like a daughter to us, and now it's official."

Quinn and Luke teased their brother, but their happiness was evident. "About time, Jack," Quinn joked, clapping him on the back. "You’re a lucky guy, Y/N's amazing."

As the night wore on, Y/N and Jack stole a few moments alone, away from the crowd. They stood on the ice, the arena now quiet and empty. The silence was peaceful, a stark contrast to the earlier excitement.

"I can't believe this," Y/N said softly, looking at the ring on her finger. "It's like a dream."

Jack took her hands in his, his gaze tender. "It's our dream, Y/N. We've been through so much together, and this is just the beginning. I promise to always be there for you, to love and support you just like you’ve done for me."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. "I love you, Jack. I'm so proud of you, and I'm so excited for our future."

They shared another kiss, the cold ice beneath their feet a reminder of where their journey had started. It was on the ice that Jack had found his passion, and it was on the ice that he had found his love.

As they walked off the ice hand in hand, Y/N glanced back at the empty arena. It held so many memories, and now it held one of the most precious moments of her life. She knew there would be challenges ahead, but with Jack by her side, she felt ready to face anything.

Their engagement day was more than just a celebration of Jack's achievements; it was a celebration of their love and commitment to each other. It was a night they would remember forever, a night that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N looked up at the stars. They seemed to shine brighter, reflecting the happiness in her heart. She squeezed Jack's hand, feeling the promise of their future together.

"Here's to us," Jack said, his voice filled with hope and excitement.

"Here's to us," Y/N echoed, her heart full of love.

And with that, they walked into their future, ready to face whatever came their way, together.

[irisintheafterglow]

some bonus hcs about dating volleyball captain!gojo while i finish up the next few parts of end game. hope you enjoyy !!

his lockscreen is of you sitting on his bed wearing one of his jerseys with no pants on

he'd just made you laugh really hard and it's a candid of you smiling

your lockscreen is of him standing in front of a tree that had "penis <3" carved into it with his thumb up

you'd literally teared up laughing when he begged you to take a photo of him with it

his homescreen is of you trying to wrangle megumi and yuuji to take a proper photo without getting distracted (the photo, therefore, being them getting distracted)

your homescreen is a mirror picture taken after you'd run around in the rain and were both soaking wet

he's holding you from behind and burying his face in your neck while you take the photo

if he wasn't protective of you before, he is the definition of protective now that you were officially together

other players that dare to hit on you before a match are humiliated by the honored one beating them at barely half of his full power

he'd blow you a kiss and then serve straight into the net because he's stupid <3

he likes to leave little notes in your pocket with the most OBSCENE things written in them and you have no idea how they got there

"your ass looks incredible today"

"call me mater because i want you"

"kachow i want you NOW"

he goes absolutely FERAL when you wear his clothes, especially his volleyball gear

doesn't matter if it's a jersey or his track jacket or a worn out tee-shirt from training camp

"you look better in that than i do, baby"

"though i do admit you'd look better in nothing at all"

you could wear his SOCKS and he'd get all giddy

if you're wearing it and it's not yours to begin with, he's a smug motherfucker

would unironically get you two those lego piece necklaces that create a heart in the colors of the school (i was thinking black and purple)

he always has to be touching you

doesn't matter the place or the time or the scenario

whether you like it or not, a part of this man's body will always be on yours

leaning against your shoulder, linking a single pinky with yours, touching your thigh with his under the table

it grounds him and reminds him that he's not alone

he love love loves it when you fiddle with his hands

you're laying down together with his arms around your shoulders looking up at the ceiling you'll trace the lines of his palms with your fingers and play with his hands and he literally melts

he's incredibly adamant to mention to eVERYONE that he has a partner including but not limited to: cheerleaders, fangirls, classmates, girls' team players, and other boys' team players (man can pull idk what to tell you)

at all times just

"i have a partner."

"sorry, i'm taken."

"i'm not single."

"i don't want you."

he'd never dream of giving up a love like yours because you see him just as satoru

not the powerhouse captain set to lead your school into its second volleyball golden age

just your best friend first then boyfriend satoru

whose bloodstream probably contains sugary green apple soda that you taste whenever he kisses you

"i taste that shitty fruity energy drink on your tongue again"

"so you admit you like my tongue"

"i just called it shitty, satoru"

"i'll start drinking a different flavor then, and you tell me which one you like"

he still doesn't convince you to call him captain

yet ;)

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: David/Jake; bilateral move

For the prompt: Jake pov marriage and kids discussion - I know he loves David but how does he feel seeing as he would want these things and his partner doesn’t AND

Companion piece to this.

Jake likes kids. A lot. Has liked them since he was a kid himself, always happy to look out for the littler ones, maybe because he was the baby in his own family, Allie and Nat bouncing between treating him like he was a doll and telling him he was too young to join whatever they were doing, quit bugging them.

He likes kids, and he's always wanted them, has for as long as he can remember. Wanted the same kind of family he had, the only thing missing from their happy family in the suburbs picture a dog, because dad was allergic to them.

Some things have changed — he figured he’d have a wife at the beginning, and then he didn’t know, and then it was David. Not ‘a wife’ or ‘a husband’, but David, because David's been it for him since he clapped eyes on him, pretty much. Maybe not that quick, but close.

After that, any daydreams about what the future looked like always included David, and that meant no suburban picket fence with three kids and a dog, meant no proposing at center ice, no matter how sick that would be. And definitely, definitely no romantic gold medal or Stanley Cup or anything. The daydreams stopped sometime around the point where David even looking him in the eye was asking for too much, started to again when they got back together, but at that point they were mostly daydreaming about what they’d do during the offseason, closer, more realistic.

Around twenty-seven or so he quit thinking about the picket fence for good, not because he grew out of it, but because he knew that the things he was thinking about, they weren’t things David wanted. And not just things David didn’t want: increasingly he was realizing that his idle fantasies were David’s worst nightmares.

*

The thing is, Jake retired wearing the exact same jersey he got drafted in, redesign aside. And he’s proud of that. He was never going to win a Cup with the Panthers, not when his career was winding down and the Panthers were going into their second and a half rebuild, the furthest he'd ever gotten with them the second round.

Talking with management before signing yet another one year contract, they said nobody would blame him if he wanted go somewhere else, roll the dice a time or two. But Florida had been home since he was a teenager, Jake had worn that jersey season after season, been proud to wear it, proud of the guys who did — even when they sucked, they were working their asses off, every single night, they were trying.

Jake wanted to retire in that jersey, and not the way Joe did, signing a one day contract to do it, though fuck knows he didn't hold it against him, was just happy to be a part of the ceremony when Joe did retire, because he missed the hell out of him when he was hunting for a Cup his final few seasons, just happy to see him in red and blue again. Proud, but a little envious when Joe's gamble paid off in his final year.

But then, Jake wouldn't take back staying a Panther for anything, not even a Cup. He doesn't regret a single thing. Joe won gambling on a game Jake wasn't willing to play — it'd be like being jealous of someone else winning the lottery when you never ever bought a ticket.

Not that David's a prize. And not that he’s something Jake’s staying loyal to because it’s been so long that it just makes sense to. Jake says he wouldn't have given up being a Panther for anything, but that's not true. If he'd had a shot to play with David, a real chance to play on a line with him, see just how good they are together, not in a camp or an All-Star game or tooling around on a rink in suburban Detroit, he thinks he might have. In fact, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have let them get the entire question out before he said okay.

And that doesn't make sticking with the Panthers any less meaningful. He did stick with them, after all. But there’s hockey, and there’s David, and he knows which is more important, and fuck knows both together would have been a no brainer decision,

It didn’t work out that way, unfortunately. Not that Jake has regrets, because he doesn’t, doesn’t see the point in having them, but that’s one of the things he knows has passed him by. By the time he hits forty, he knows the marriage and kids thing is too. Thinks he knew that a long time before that — at twenty-seven, changing the daydreams, at twenty-five, welcoming David back with two open arms then holding on tight, stunned with how lucky he was. Maybe even at nineteen, kissing David back, feeling like all his dreams just came true, not knowing that they were going to change along the way.

David sitting him down, letting him know that kids aren’t a thing he wants, that isn’t news for him — he doesn’t think David’s right about himself, thinks David would be a good parent, that he’d work hard at it like he’s worked hard at everything he cares about, and he’d care so fucking much. But Jake’s well aware that this isn’t the kind of subject where reasoning beats out emotions, and, whether or not David would make a good father doesn’t actually matter, because he doesn’t want to be one.

The worst thing is that the only reason this comes up is Jake thought he was being helpful. David hates talking about it, visibly freezes up when the topic comes up, so Jake always says something noncommittal and changes the subject as quickly as possible. 

He thought that was the kindest thing he could do, but maybe it isn’t, maybe it just made David suffer for longer. Jake hadn’t known he was suffering at all, but the way David’s talking, somewhere between hesitant and frantic, talking like this is something he expects Jake to hold against him, something he expects Jake to leave him for — 

“David,” Jake says. David looks up, meeting his eye for less than a second before he ducks his head, like he’s ashamed. Or — no. Like he’s scared. Like he’s terrified. He looks down at his hands, and when Jake looks at them too, that’s when he finally notices they’re shaking.

“I’ve been gone for you since we were eighteen years old,” Jake says softly. “What did you think was going to happen here?”

“I don’t know,” David says, very quietly, and it’s that, the smallness, that breaks Jake’s heart.

[hockeylovee12]

Anyone But Him

Chapter One

July 1st, 2021

The summer sun slowly starts to sink casting a golden glow over the cloudless sky, as Luke's sleek white SUV glides along the I-90, following the signs for Massachusetts. His tires hum against the pavement, creating a steady rhythm within the backdrop of passing cars and typical highway sounds. 

Inside the car, the thumping beat of some random ass country song fills the air, and Luke absentmindedly taps his lengthy fingers along the smooth, cool surface of the leather steering wheel in front of him. 

For a moment, Luke's eyes temporarily leave the road ahead, as he glances towards the seat next to him, where Sadie dons a cropped lilac tank top, jean shorts, and a pair of worn-out Hightop Converse, quietly gazing out the window, while a book, a classic piece entitled Mrs. Dalloway rests on her lap.

Over ten hours have passed since they began the long drive from their hometown in Michigan to the small lake town in New Hampshire where Luke's family lake house awaits their arrival. 

Luke's eyes return to the road, and a small smile forms across his lips as he uses the button on his steering wheel to lower the volume of the music, "Excited for freshman year?" Luke asks his voice laced with excitement as he brings up the topic of college-a subject that has been occupying both their minds since they tossed their caps in the air at their high school graduation less than a month ago.

Sadie hesitates, the silence somewhat deafening against the fading music, and shifts in her seat causing the fabric of her tank top to cling to her skin. 

"Definitely" She replies, the word squeezing past the tight feeling in her throat as she forces a smile to cross her lips. 

"Michigan is gonna be so fucking awesome! I can't wait till we start!" Luke energetically adds, his previously small smile broadening into a wide grin

For him the idea of attending the University of Michigan with his best friend is more than just a hope or a silly dream, it's their reality, it's their plan. 

At least it's supposed to be.

"Have you picked your classes yet?" Luke continues, riding the wave of his anticipation.

She bites the inside of her cheek before mumbling "Sort of,"

Her hesitant response holds significant weight to an unforgettable event, eleven days prior, when the possibility of a different future presented itself-one that's not painted in blue and maize, but rather in the scarlet embraces of Rutgers University, a school attended and cherished by her late mother. 

The vivid image of ripping open her acceptance letter surfaces in her mind. 

She applied several months ago after being accepted to the University of Michigan, and with the exception of her dad-seeing as how she didn't wanna have to pay the $75 application fee out of her own pockets-she didn't tell anyone, because even with a 4.3 GPA and a long list of extracurriculars, the reality of actually getting accepted to Rutgers, was always a long shot, and there was no reason to get anyones hopes up or in Luke's case crush them, for something that probably wouldn't happen. 

Except it did happen. 

Rutgers accepted her and now she's faced with making a decision between going to Michigan with Luke or following in her mother's footsteps and attending Rutgers. 

She prepared herself to share the news with Luke the same day she received her acceptance but that same evening another, far more momentous event was taking place: The NHL Entry Draft.

This wasn't just any draft, this was Luke's draft. This was the day that would determine his future, determine if everything he had worked for, everything his family had worked for, his coaches, his teammates, every game, every loss, every win, if all of it was enough to make it to the NHL. 

So when his name was called as the fourth overall pick, to the New Jersey Devils-a team the Hughes family is very familiar with as one of Luke's older brothers, Jack was their coveted 1st overall pick, two years prior-the sheer look of happiness on Luke's face caused a surge of restitance to rush through Sadie's bones. 

And at that moment she thought 'How the hell could she possibly interrupt what is probably one of the most important moments in her best friends life, with news that would absolutely crush him?"

She couldn't, no she wouldn't. So instead she stayed quiet. 

Over the next few days, she probably rehearsed the conversation in her mind over a hundred times, promising herself she would tell Luke before, they left for their annual summer trip, but she didn't and she could lie and say she couldn't find the time, but the truth is what she couldn't find was the courage. 

Now they're two hours away from the lake house, where they'll spend the next eight days with Luke's family and a few of his brother's friends and Luke thinks she's going to Michigan with him, when the reality is she has no fucking clue where she's going yet. 

Sadie glances over at Luke, who has since returned the music to its blaring and probably ear-damaging volume and is tapping his fingers to the beat of a Morgan Wallen song. 

Sadie's mind trickles back to the beginning of their friendship nearly six years ago. 

It all started the same year Luke’s family moved to Canton, Sadie’s hometown. Luke was really nervous about starting at a new school, in a new environment -having previously lived in Toronto-and even more so because this would be his first time attending a school without his older brothers, who were both attending the local high school. 

On the first day of seventh grade, Sadie and Luke found themselves seated next to one another in homeroom. 

They didn’t talk much, or really at all over the first few weeks, both being rather shy, but all that changed when they were invited to a house party by a mutual friend. 

Sadie remembers having to beg and plead with her dad to receive permission to go, but eventually he agreed. 

It wasn’t the typical house party, like you see in the movies, there were no drugs or alcohol-thankfully considering this was a party for twelve year olds. 

However it was a makeout party, something neither of them had ever experienced before. 

People were playing spin the bottle, the PG-13 version of truth or dare, and the infamous seven minutes in heaven. 

Somehow a close friend of Sadie’s at the time, Reagan Arnold, managed to convince Sadie to participate in a round of seven minutes in heaven. 

Reagan told Sadie to wait in the closet while she chose the guy, swearing up and down she would choose a good guy. 

Sadie was surprised, when Luke, the new kid, opened the door and walked in. 

It was really awkward at first, obviously considering two people who had barely spoken ten words to each other, were now locked in a small, dark coat closet, expected to kiss. 

Funny thing was neither of them had kissed someone before. 

They managed to find a light in the closet, and that’s when Sadie spoke “So do you like movies?” was the first thing she said. The question sorta caught Luke by surprise, but either way he replied “Ya I love movies, I like the Marvel ones the best!” 

“Me too I always watch them with my dad” Sadie had said. They spent the next few minutes talking to one another and they quickly realized they have a lot in common, then towards the end of the seven minutes, they attempted their first kiss, which resulted in their foreheads bumping rather than their lips. They started laughing uncontrollably, and from that day forward, they’ve been practically inseparable. 

Over the past six years, they’ve shared pretty much everything together, memories, secrets, fears, the whole nine yards. 

They’re best friends, that’s what they do.

Best friends talk to each other, they share things, they trust one another, at least they're supposed to. 

A small sigh escapes from Sadie's lips as her eyes drift towards the window, absently watching as an array of cars come flying by. 

It shouldn’t but the thought of telling Luke she might not go to Michigan feels terrifying because how the hell do you tell your best friend of six years ‘Hey I know you’re all excited thinking we’re going to college together, but actually I think I’m going somewhere else. But I’ll see you over break!’

She can’t do that. 

But at the same time, her mom died when she was only nine. Rutgers was a huge part of her life, and if she passes on the opportunity to attend the school that brought her mom so much, joy and happiness, it would basically be abandoning her mother's memory, or surrendering the chance to continue her legacy-it would be giving up on her mom. 

She absentmindedly lets out another sigh, her thoughts returning to the present as a soft touch lands on her exposed shoulder.

Her striking hazel eyes—a mirror of her late mother's—shift towards Luke.

shift towards Luke.

“You alright?” Luke asks, his voice slicing through her brain, like a scolding knife through a block of ice. 

Sadie shakes her head once, a literal attempt to remove the thoughts from her mind, “Ya sorry what’d you say?” She replies 

Luke chuckles before repeating “I asked if you’re excited to watch me play at Yost?!” 

Sadie pauses “Oh ya, definitely…super excited” her voice trying to mimic just enough enthusiasm to make it sound believable. 

Luke glances towards her, the previously lingering excitement in his eyes fading to display a mix of affection and concern, “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem really distracted” he asks 

‘Tell him’ Sadie’s mind practically shouts to her ‘Just get it over with!’

In a moment, Sadie takes a deep breath, forcefully pushing her thoughts aside before responding “Ya I’m just a little tired, you know long car rides” 

Luke nods in agreement, his smile returning “Why don’t you take a nap, we still got like an hour or so before we make it to the house” Luke suggests

“Ya good idea” Sadie replies, as she leans back in the comfortable seat and rests her head on the transparent window before allowing her eyes to close shut. 

***

Sadie's eyes begin fluttering open to the sound of tires rolling on gravel. 

Her eyes lock on the familiar silhouette of the lake house, illuminated, by porch lights. The sight of the lake house, with its weathered cedar shingles and windows mirroring the lake's calm waters, brings an immediate wave of relief to Sadie. 

Luke turns his head towards her, his face painted with a soft smile, before latching on to the key, stuck in its slot, and flicking his wrist, allowing the previously roaring engine to hum into a peaceful silence, "Ready?" he asks. Sadie smiles, and nods, unbuckling her seatbelt.

They exit the car, their shoes crunching on the gravel, as the nostalgic scent of pine and lake water fills their noses bringing the memories of past trips to the forefront of their minds. 

The two exchange a smile, as they step towards the front of the car, when the large wooden door, leading into the house, swings open revealing Luke’s parents Ellen and Jim.

Ellen, with her gentle blonde waves reflecting the warmth around her, approaches Sadie, “Hi Sweetie” Ellen greets, her voice filled with genuineness as she wraps her arms around Sadie in a comforting embrace, “How was the drive up?” 

“It was good” Sadie replies, nestling closer into the hug, finding solace in the normality of it. 

A small smirk, dances across Sadie’s lips as their arms untangle themselves from one another, and Sadie, glances towards Luke, who’s standing, to the left of her, embracing his father in a hug. “Luke somehow managed to get us here in one piece” She teases, eliciting a laugh, from both Ellen and Jim. 

“Careful, there I wouldn’t insult the driver” Luke remarks, with a smirk, as he turns to embrace his mom in a hug, “Remember I’m your ride home” Luke adds

Sadie lets out a playful giggle, knowing deep down, Luke would never leave without her.

"Jacky and Q here yet?" Luke asks his parents

"Not yet they should be arriving any minute" Ellen answers, her blue eyes shifting around the scene as if she's trying to activate her x-ray vision and find their car through all the trees. 

Luke nods and turns to his car, walking towards the trunk, planning to remove his and Sadie's luggage when a loud honking sound startles him. 

“FUCK!” he curses 

Jim raises his eyebrows in disapproval towards his youngest boy, who proceeds to send an apologetic look in response, before rotating his body, to see his older brothers along with two of their friends Trevor Zegras and Josh Norris, arriving in Jack’s car. 

Luke quietly mutters ‘idiots’, before finishing his task of removing the luggage from his car. 

Once finished, he shuts the trunk of his car, and steps towards Sadie, allowing Jack to park his car. 

Quinn is the first to exit, from the passenger side, immediately making his way towards Luke and Sadie and pulling the two teenagers into a hug. 

“Hey guys! How you doing?” He asks, his voice laced with platonic affection. 

Sarcasm creeps into Luke’s voice as he teasingly replies “Doing good, until you showed up and damaged my ear drums”

Quinn retaliates by pulling the taller boy closer to him and ruffling his hair much to his annoyance. 

Sadie smiles watching her best friend interact with his-and basically her-older brother, while the remaining of the group emerges from Jack's car. 

Trevor, always the playful one, practically jumps out of the car with a laugh, his oak colored hair tousled from the drive. Josh follows, calmly exiting and taking a moment to stretch his arms above his head. The amiable smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes hints at the warmth and friendliness of his demeanor, as he makes his way toward Ellen and Jim, politely greeting them. 

Then comes Jack, extracting himself from the drivers seat, with the same blend of confidence and composure, of a team with a 7-0 lead in the dying seconds of the third period. He's the older-at least of Luke-, the mega-talented and undeniably attractive brother, the epitome of charm and charisma. The first overall pick, the ladies man of the group, the ‘golden boy’, the term frequently used by Luke in an envious driven attempt to paint an accurate description of his brother.

Jack steps closer to Luke and Sadie before attacking Luke in a bear hug, nearly knocking the youngest and tallest of the family off his feet. 

"JACK!” Luke shouts, his voice more playful than annoyed-although it still radiates waves of annoyance-as he tries to push the older boy off.

“Ugh get off of me!” Luke continues, clearly struggling, before finally managing to remove his brothers hold.

“Hey Sades” Jack says, a smile crossing his lips, as he turns his attention towards her, his arm lingering around Luke, before resting on his shoulder. 

“Hey Jack” Sadie replies politely 

“I see you’re still hanging around this one” Jack teases with a smile as he playfully ruffle his fingers through Luke’s curls, which causes Luke to send an ‘if looks could kill’ type of glare towards both his brothers, clearly annoyed by the fact that they have deemed it their civil duty to mess with his hair-which it’s not. 

“I'm not that annoying” Luke retorts with a grin, his hand moving to smooth down his messed-up hair.

Luke’s gaze shifts, finding Trevor standing a few feet away interacting with Quinn and Josh, a large smile present on his face, “And besides at least one of us has normal friends” Luke adds, purposely raising his voice enough for Trevor to overhear

“Is he talking about me?” Trevor asks, a sly grin forming, as he steps closer to Luke

Jack’s response comes quick “I think so” 

“You just wait Lukey, this summer Jack and I are finally gonna get you back for all the pranks the two of you pulled on us last summer” Trevor declares, his eyes shifting with unwavering confidence between Luke and Sadie.

Jack nods in agreement, the smile on his face never fading, it’s the kind that reaches all the way up to his striking blue eyes, a similarity shared between him and his brothers. 

Luke and Sadie exchange a knowing glance of confidence with one another, indicative of disbelief at the thought of Jack and Trevor successfully pulling off a prank. 

Sadie’s voice is light as she chimes in “Isn’t that what you said last summer, and the summer before?” she teases, because it is, they say it every summer, and every summer they fail. 

Jack’s cheeks flush red, as he tries to force, credibility into his voice “No” 

Josh who had, finished helping Quinn, unpack the car and is now standing beside him on the outer circle of the conversation, interjects “Uh ya it is”

Jack and Trevor share a playful look, mixing with a hint of embarrassment, their previous expression of confidence disintegrating as Trevor replies “Ok well…maybe…but this summer for sure” 

Luke and Sadie exchange a laugh “Uh huh we’ll see about that” Luke says his voice wavering with skepticism.

Ellen shakes her head, the smile on her face, washing away any accusations of annoyance “Alright guys” she begins “Let’s try and keep the pranking to a minimum this year” 

One last look of mischief and playfulness is exchanged among the group before they nod and begin walking towards the front door.

***

After having a chance to unpack their belongings and settle into their respective rooms-Ellen and Jim taking the master bedroom on the first floor, well the remaining six split between four rooms on the second floor, Jack and Trevor sharing one room as well as Quinn and Josh sharing another while Sadie and Luke, are given their own-the clock creeps towards nine pm, and the group gathers in the spacious living room, to discuss dinner plans, something on everyone's minds and stomachs. 

"Mhm, a burger sounds so good" Luke comments to no one in particular, as he flops down next to Sadie, on the u-shaped couch.

"Eh not really and too much work" Quinn claims, allowing a yawn to escape his lips. 

Jim, who had previously been in the kitchen, walks towards the center of the room with a stack of takeout menus, and raises his voice over the growing chatter. "I was thinking we could keep it simple tonight—takeout sound good to everyone?" 

He's met with an array of nods, ya's and yes's as suggestions start flying back and forth-Chinese, Italian, Mexican-Luke lobbies for burgers again, but after a few minutes and naming pretty much every type of cuisine they could think of they agree on pizza and salad, leading to a discussion on toppings.

It takes another five minutes and a heated debate on whether pineapple belongs on pizza, before Ellen can dial the number of a local restaurant, confirming the mishmash of orders-two large caesar salads, a meat lovers pizza, one with just cheese for the less adventurous ones, a pepperoni one and an experimental half-and-half with pineapple, sausage and olives.

"Thank you! See you in 20 minutes" Ellen says, relaying the information to the rest of the group before hanging up. 

"I'll pick em up, Trev you wanna come?" Jack asks, starting to stand up. 

"Sure man" He answers and with that the two head towards the front door, disappearing into the night air, and leaving behind a fleeting echo of their voices, discussing who's driving, and who's bringing the pizza's in.

Back in the living room, Quinn flops down on the couch "So, any big plans while we're up here? I mean, other than stuffing our faces?"

"Speak for yourself," Luke quips, "I'm hitting the lake first thing tomorrow."

A murmur of approval ripples through the group as plans begin to take shape with talk of wakesurfing and late-night bonfires, until the conversation shifts to the University of Michigan.

Sadie feels a knot form in her stomach, as Josh and Quinn, former players of the hockey team, chime in with their two cents. 

Her eyes trickle to the glass doors leading to the wooden deck, searching for an escape when a wave of emotions wash over her as she recalls her first trip here.

It was the summer after she met Luke, the summer before eighth grade. They drove up with Luke’s parents, Jack and Quinn and two of their friends Cole and Brady. 

Most of their days were spent, swimming in the lake, roasting marshmallows over the bonfire, or all the boys trying to teach Sadie how to play hockey on the driveway-which she’s gotten much better at- but what she remembers the most is sitting on the deck, talking to Luke about her mom.

He was the first person she felt comfortable enough with to open up about her mom’s passing, what it was like to be nine years old watching your mom rot away in a hospital bed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop a disease you barely understood. 

With Luke, Sadie didn’t need to put on a smile and pretend that everything was okay, when it wasn’t, and despite only being 12 at the time Luke didn’t try to fix it either. He didn’t run to his parents or brothers, he just listened. 

Luke was the first person to show her with more than just words, she didn’t need to bury all her thoughts and secrets inside. 

Luke was the first person to show her she wasn’t alone. 

Suddenly her eyes turn to glass as she wonders if everything would change if she chose Rutgers, if she would lose everything she has with Luke?

“You okay?” Luke asks his voice, pulling her back to reality

Sadie hesitates before responding “Ya, I’m fine. I just remembered I forgot to call my dad, so I’m gonna do that real quick” Luke watches as she swiftly stands up and makes her way to the stairs leaving no time for him to respond.

Once her feet reach the top of the stairs, she rushes into her room, her mind too occupied to notice, she doesn't properly close the door. 

Sadie scrambles to unlock her phone, her fingers trembling as she fumbles with the green call button.

Finally her fingers press the button, the loud dial tone filling, the otherwise silent room. Sadie leans against the wall.

“Hey dad” she greets, her voice wobbly.

“Hi pumpkin, how you doing?” Her dad asks

They begin talking about everything and nothing-the drive, the weather, her dad’s job.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the front door swings open. Jack walks in, followed by Trevor, both carrying two large pizzas and a box of salad.

Jack and Trevor set the food down on the kitchen counter, as the rest of the group, crowds around the kitchen sink, preparing to wash their hands. 

“Where’s Sadie?” Trevor asks as he makes his way towards the sink as well.

Ellen motions to the stairs “I think she went upstairs, Jack do you mind telling her dinner is here please” Ellen requests, her clean hands busy gathering plates and napkins from the oak cabinets.

Jack nods, “Got it” He replies as he walks towards the stairs.

He stops in the room shared by him and Trevor, to set his keys on the nightstand, before making his way towards Sadie’s room.

Her voice, seeping through the small crack in the door frame, causes him to slow, pausing as he listens in. 

“Dad, I don’t know what to do! I don't wanna hurt him" 

Sadie’s words spill out like a waterfall, “How do I choose between Rutgers and Luke” Her voice trembles.

Jack instinctively takes a step back, his heart racing as he realizes he shouldn’t be listening to this. He turns his back to the door, his mind screaming at him to walk away, but his body remains in place. 

Every fiber in his being is drawn to Sadie, to the pain and secrecy hidden in her voice. 

And then it hits him-Rutgers. Why is she talking about that? And what does Luke have to do with it?

A whirlwind of emotions swirl within him as he struggles to piece together Sadie's words, when the muffled reply of “Love you too” seeps through the door frame, sending a jolt of panic through his body.

Before he can force his body to move, run, jump, do anything, the door swings open and Sadie’s small gasp of surprise forces him to turn around. 

Their eyes meet, Jack can see the tears that slipped from her eyes, have been firmly wiped away, and a surge of conflicting emotions swirl inside of him-a feeling of protectiveness and anger at the thought of unknown actions hurting Luke, guilt for eavesdropping, and an overwhelming desire to comfort Sadie, but all he does is stand frozen, staring at her. 

“Jeez Jack you scared me!” Sadie says 

Jack hesitates, searching his mind for a response. Does he confess, does he tell her he overheard her? He wonders. He slightly shakes his head before settling on a response “Sorry, I uh I had to put my keys away, and uh my mom wanted me to tell you dinners here” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there in a second” The previous quiver in her voice is a distant memory, as she replies. 

Jack nods slowly, attempting to regroup himself, before he slowly treads down the stairs.

Jack makes his way to the kitchen, rummaging for a bottle of water.

He finds one and begins taking slow sips, when Sadie, slips into the kitchen, planting her feet next to his, and turning on the sink faucet. 

Jack’s eyes wander in her direction, catching a quick glance. Sadie notices and replies with a friendly smile as she dries her hands on a nearby hand towel, and moves towards the open pizza boxes with a plate. 

She reaches in and places two slices of pepperoni pizza onto her plate, stacking one on top of another, before using the plastic tongs to add a handful of salad. After grabbing a fork and napkin, she walks towards the crowded couch and takes a seat next to Luke. 

Jack remains quiet the entire time, slowly watching from the counter, before following her actions and making his way to the couch, he sits next to Trevor, listening in to the ongoing conversation surrounding college, as he slowly indulges in his dinner. 

Most of the group, with the exception of Sadie, have finished their dinner by the time Trevor makes a controversial comment -in a room full of Michigan and hockey fans- about Boston University, a school he spent two years at. “Listen Michigan is great but BU 100% produces more star NHL players” 

Quinn’s face drops in an exaggerated response, “Jack please tell him to leave” Quinn insists, struggling to keep a straight face. 

Laughter ripples through the room in response.

Quinn manages to pull off a pretty solid poker face as he says “I’m serious” 

“So am I” Trevor remarks with a grin, and a slight shrug of his shoulders

Josh shakes his head, “There is nothing BU can do better than Michigan” 

“Mhm I disagree, hockey, academics, parties” Trevor claims 

Josh opens his mouth to disagree “Michigan parties are legendary” He begins.

“Michigan is better than BU at everything, and out all the options that’s the one you choose” Jack comments, because it’s not like Michigan has been ranked the #1 NCAA hockey program for the last six years, or consistently been in the top 30 for best academics or anything like that. 

Quinn and Josh exchange a playful look, before simultaneously answering yes. 

Ellen and Jim shake their heads, with a small laugh, as Luke rolls his eyes and Jack smacks his lips together in an audible response. 

“You know one time Quinn and I were at this party” Josh begins before being cut off by a somewhat hard punch to the shoulder by Quinn 

“Shut it” Quinn insists 

Most of the group laughs.

“Alright guys I think we’re going to turn in” Ellen tells the younger crew as her and Jim begin standing “Don’t do anything dangerous, and whatever happened at that party Quinn please take it to the grave” Ellen jokes as she walks towards the hallway

Once the parents are completely out of earshot, Josh continues “Can I finish my story” 

“Didn’t you hear my mom she said take it to the grave” Quinn argues 

Luke chimes in “Oh come on I wanna know” 

“Ya it’s funny come on” Josh tries

Quinn looks between his kid brother and his best friend before replying “No”

Luke continues to try and reason with him “Come on, You never tell me” “I’m not gonna tell mom and dad” “Please Sadie and I will literally be there in like two months” 

Jack’s eyes trickle towards Sadie, as Luke mentions her name, her presence somewhat forgotten through the bubbling conversation.

His thoughts are a jumbled mess. Should he confront her about what he heard? Maybe he should try to comfort her instead. Or maybe it's better if he just leaves it alone?

But before he can figure out what to do, Luke loudly grumbles, snapping Jack back into reality.

Another wave of laughter ripples throughout the room, as the conversation shifts seamlessly, abandoning the topic of Michigan, at least for the moment, before they decide to settle down and watch a movie. 

They search through various streaming services, debating between watching, action, sci-fi, or comedy. 

“No more alien stuff, Luke! We get it, you want to meet E.T.,” Josh teases, flicking through the science fiction offerings with the remote, only to be met with playful groans from the group.

"What about 21 Jump Street?" Luke asks 

"Ya no" Jack answers 

"How about a comedy?" Quinn suggests

"21 Jump Streets a comedy" Luke mutters, earning a subtle look from Quinn, before refocusing on the screen.

“Oh, come on, something with some punches!” Trevor eggs on, eyes lighting up as he spots 'Goon' in the streaming library.

"They have Hot Tub Time Machine" Josh suggests 

With each suggestion, counter-arguments volley around the room until eventually receiving majority approval for the hockey-themed comedy Goon, which follows the story of a bouncer who basically turns into a hockey enforcer/fighter. 

"Goon it is," Josh declares, hitting play as everyone settles deeper into their respective cushions and chairs, and an anticipatory silence spreads as the screen comes to life.

The silence only lasts about 15 minutes, because none of them, know how to keep their mouths shut during a fucking movie, like when Doug Glatt stumbles onto the ice for his first practice, Trevor's jab — "Look, it's Quinn!" — is a catalyst for a burst of laughter, Quinn’s mock outrage only fueling the fun.

"Jack can you please make him leave!" Quinn begs

"Fuck no" Jack insists causing the rest of the group to laugh 

"Then just shut up and watch the movie" Quinn huffs toward Trevor 

Or during Doug's first game, when Luke quips "And I thought Bambi on ice was just a Disney thing" 

During a slow-motion sequence of a well-executed check "Figure skater right there"

And so on and so forth, as they're unrestrained voices follow the ups and downs on screen.

At one point the movie reaches maximum goriness when Doug, engages in a brutal fight with an opponent, and the room erupts in a mixture of gasps and chuckles, the line between horror and amusement blurring.

Jack's gaze drifts to Sadie, where she and Luke are whispering to each other in hushed tones. 

He turns his attention back to the movie, trying to shake off the negative feelings creeping up on him.

During another scene, Luke jumps at a particularly raucous fight , "Holy shit! Did you see that punch?"

Laughter erupts, and all eyes fall towards Luke, except for Jack's which find Sadie again, he can't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at him, knowing something about Sadie that Luke doesn't, even if she doesn't know he knows. 

His mind is a silent turmoil for the remainder of the movie, the group’s laughter and heckling fading into a background static against his internal dissonance, until eventually, the movie's closing credits begin rolling and the reaction is satisfying stretches and yawning from the group.

Josh, who had been animated throughout, rises and announces "I'm hitting the sack, guys," his eyelids heavy. The room hums with goodnights as he disappears up the stairs.

Quinn, as always the responsible one begins gathering empty plates, and throws them in the trash before heading upstairs. 

Trevor and Luke, their energy seemingly boundless, launch into a spirited debate about who would make the better hockey player enforcer, even if we know the answer, but their banter echos off the walls until they too concede to the call of sleep, trekking upstairs.

With the room now emptied Sadie and Jack find themselves momentarily alone, the stillness stark in contrast to the evening's livelyness. Sadie lingers around the kitchen, wiping down the counter with a quiet grace. Jack's mind spirals the secret nudging at his tongue, demanding release. He inhaled, ready to break the silence, and say something but Luke's sudden re-entry halts him mid-breath.

"Forgot my phone," Luke says, swiping it from the coffee table. "You coming, Sadie?" 

"Yep, be right there," she replies, tossing the last of her garbage in the trash can

With a final nod and a half-hearted smile in Jack's direction, she departs to the sound of Luke's receding footsteps. The room was silent now, save for the echoes of what had been left unsaid. Jack let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his newfound burden grounding him to the couch.

He was alone. His sigh hangs in the air, a fog of unresolved tension as he stands, flicking off the lights and making his way toward the stairs. The day had ended, they made it to the lake, and now he's going to bed with more questions than he came with. 

Lying there, staring at the ghostly shadows dancing across the ceiling, Jack knows he won't be able to stop wondering about Sadie's secret until he gets answers, and he just hopes whatever secret she's hiding doesn't end up destroying his younger brother. 

A/N I hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me in any asks!

[hischughes1386]

hi this is so random i’m new to hockey and i was just scrolling around and saw your new hockey cards (so cool btw) i was just wondering where you purchase them? how does it work?

thanks so much and have a great night ! (also i noticed you have oilers and canucks cards and as a fellow oilers and canucks fan good luck on thursday.)

hi! I’ve watched hockey forever but I’ve just recently been getting into collecting the cards! I’ll try to give you my best rundown but I’m sure there are people much more knowledgeable about it than I!

so you can go about buying hockey cards in a few ways!

1- you can get unopened boxes or packs of cards. the big brand I know about (Upper Deck) creates new sets for every hockey season. So right now, you can go to Target or Walmart or Amazon and buy boxes of cards for each season. Boxes usually come with a few packs and you have no idea what cards you’ll get from the set. Most of what you’ll get is common base cards which aren’t worth a lot but if you’re lucky you can pull autographed cards or cards with little pieces of game worn jerseys. Those are more rare/valuable.

2- if you know what card you’re looking for you can look on sites like eBay or even Facebook market place to buy cards. You can just search on eBay or even google the card you’re looking for and you should see a ton of options pop up. they range in price due to rarity or demand. the cards I posted about are the 2023/2024 O-Pee-Chee Platinum Retro Rainbow cards. They were all base level cards (as far as I’m aware, don’t quote me on that) so they were pretty inexpensive. I think the most expensive one I bought was like $3.

What’s fun about hockey cards is you can really do it however you want. you can collect cards for a specific player or team, you can try to collect the entire set of cards in a set, or you can try to collect rookie cards or something like that!

Also if you want to get more involved there are a lot of groups on Facebook where you can trade/buy/sell cards. it’s a little overwhelming at first but it is interesting to look through and see what kind of cards are out there and what people like!

I hope this made sense and wasn’t too overwhelming!! If you have any other questions feel free to message me or send another ask, I’m always happy to talk about my hobbies! good luck on Thursday to you too :)

[gawankeundco]

ok ok also though: from a goalies perspective. I love my goalies

goalie perspective talk!!!! that one is sooo self-indulgent because we literally made this ship up with the power of horniness. and i guess it’s also the answer to the age old question: what would happen if henrik lundqvist ever had to provide game commentary with former goaltender turned biggest goalie apologist in the league patrick ehelechner [because he’s on a euro hockey tour or why ever else].

spoilers: love would happen.

it’s a semi-long fic, with lots of moments in their life that i’m still puzzling together to paint a bigger picture. here’s one of them though:

“Please explain to me what I’m looking at.” Henrik is coming into the living room holding a piece of paper in his hand. He’s frowning at it as if it personally offended him, and Patrick stretches his neck to catch a glimpse of it from where he’s sprawled out on the couch. When he recognizes the familiar scene, he grins. “That’s a picture of my Draft Day.” “That I see,” Henke says. He sounds pained. “Why is it displayed on your closet door?” “So I remember.” Patrick tries to shrug it off, but the silence that follows doesn’t let him go back to his work. (He didn’t work on his notes for the game tomorrow for a solid thirty minutes now.) “Alright, gimme that.” Rolling his eyes, he holds his hand out until Henrik hands him the picture. It’s printed on cheap photo paper, just a copy of the original that’s secure in a folder in his office, and the quality isn’t the best, but it still shows enough to recognize the lanky boy shaking hands with a middle-aged man, grinning under the cap they put on his head. “I was disappointed when they didn’t draft me on the first day. Realistically I know goalies don’t usually go very high, but I guess I kind of hoped they’d make an exception for me. – obviously, they didn’t.” After all these years, it’s hard to remember what exactly went through his mind back then. Anger probably, but maybe also shame that his father flew all the way to Nashville with him just for him not to make it on the first day. “I didn’t even want to go back the next day, but ended up going after all, though– Everyone said that you wouldn’t get called up on the stage after the first day, and I was really demotivated and didn’t think anyone would even see me, so I just didn’t wear my suit again. Only worn out jeans and a t-shirt two sizes too big. Comfortable clothes, you know?” He doesn’t even need to look at Henrik to know he’s trying his hardest not to laugh. “And then they started drafting guys and every single one of them went up on the stage for handshakes and a picture, and I started panicking. My dad ran back to the hotel to get my suit while I was praying no one would draft me.” “I assume you weren’t that lucky,” Henrik asks innocently. Patrick shakes the picture – his younger self on a big stage shaking hands with the GM while wearing a Sharks hat that fits his blue jeans with the washed out spots way better than any suit pants he could’ve worn – and laughs. “Absolutely not. They called me up minutes before he was back. I had to walk through rows of players and their families in the most expensive suits. Never felt that underdressed ever again. But the worst part was when I had to go on stage and shake his hand and the GM, I think it was Wilson, leaned down and was like, you don’t have any style at all, do you.” Henrik nods solemnly. “Well, he wasn’t particularly wrong.” “Obviously I’d have dressed nicely if I’d known!” Patrick protests. “But since I can’t change that day anymore, the picture serves me as a reminder to always dress with style no matter where I go.” “I don’t think he was suggesting you buy Hawaiian shirts,” Henrik remarks, but he’s smiling while he says it, and Patrick files it under small victories that were made in the name of colorful prints on shirts. “I can always wear the Crosby jersey Dominik got me,” he shrugs and blinks at Henrik. “Pens jerseys definitely suit me.”

[coffee-at-annies]

🥰 🤠 💗 for the ask game!!

Fic Reading Ask Game // Open

🥰 what tropes do you gravitate toward?

I tend to gravitate to ship tropes first because in fanfic it tends to be short hand for the plot. Like the plot is mutual pining with a side of slow burn and a falls first b falls harder and then at the end they kiss. There might be a grand arranged marriage regency romance or an enemies to lovers space au around that but at its core the relationship and the romance is driving the plot. AUs are worldbuilding set dressing (which I love) but they inform the story they don’t effect the story. So it’s a balancing act for which I’m more excited about. There was a while where I was reading through the idiots to lovers tag because man that’s what I wanted, two people that are just stupid for each other. I’ve also done dives into the non-traditional omegaverse tags, always a different sex, alternate universe - magic, etc etc. I probably do gravitate most towards aus as a high level and then decide based on what the ship is doing cause that’s the plot being pitched to me. I love spec fic. I think it’s so fun. I know omegaverse is a bunch of junk science. I know cisswap gets a bad rap as being transphobic. I know *gestures at hp aus* but like they’re fun. It’s all fun. “What if we took these characters and moved them to the left, what then?” is so so interesting to me. I love when people lay out a premise and then meaningfully think about it. However the shit has to be interesting. I have to care about the ship and what they’re doing. If they’re perfect little robots the entire time, that’s not interesting. It’s a balancing act.

🤠 favorite au genre?

I love AUs. If it’s weird and left of center gimme all of it. I’ve always love a near-canon au which is everything is the same except this one thing. Maybe that one thing is magic, maybe that one thing is Sid is a girl, maybe that one thing is vampires, I don’t care I love alternate universe - this specific change. At the same time I love genre aus. I love these are the boys but they’re in space. I love we’re in a magic urban fantasy town and Sidney is a witch and Geno is new in town. It really really depends. I go through phases with fandoms where I find a niche au and then read everything in it. For example one of my favorite niche aus in dc comics/batfam is reverse robins!aus. Its so edgy and dumb and there’s a lot of delicious angst thrown my favorite character’s way because you get the Tim+Damian hate relationship but flipped to mirror the original Dick+Jason relationship and then you get to give Tim all the angst Jason has of dying and coming back different. Delicious and delightful. For hockey probably my favorite AU is goalie nesting. I fucking love nesting man. I’m hit or miss sometimes on omegaverse but this is technically separate and so so delightful. Bury that goalie in a pile of blankets, sweaty disgusting game worn jerseys, and whichever teammate you think looks hottest on top of him and call it hurt/comfort. Yum.

💗 a fic you’ve reread again and again and why!

Okay so actually I forgot one of my favorite aus is soulmates since I haven’t been in the mood recently. Yeah yeah I know I’m a bad aroace person cause soulmates are inherently amatanormative and reinforce heteronormativity and compulsory sexuality and the idea that it is normative to want to be in a romantic relationship and all that jazz. I just like it. I like the idea of what if two people were puzzle pieces who fit together perfectly. Then also what if they fit together and it wasn’t perfect and they have to work at it anyway because relationships take work. Anyway this is a preface for one of my favorite hrpf fics that I go back to when craving that feeling of home with the old team. It’s SidFlower platonic soulmates, SidGeno romantic relationship set during the 2016 season. It’s so delightful and homey. It’s one of the fics I keep coming back to whenever I want to recapture what I love about hrpf.

[markparrish]

5, 18, 21 for the ask game 💚

oh hell yeah

5. favorite piece of hockey memorabilia you own

oh this one's tough, i have the pride night warmup puck jonny merrill tossed me although the design is super worn off, i love all my jerseys (with special shoutout to my new shawzy one <3), and i've got a wild tshirt and hoodie in particular that i love and think are super cool. big ups to my incoming dog jersey for scout too, i'm very excited for it

18. who would be on your dream hockey team

i'm so attached to so many players you would need at least two teams to get through them all i think. and one of them is basically just the current minnesota wild. i guess i'll hijack this question to get back on my "whisk tyler seguin from the dallas stars like a dragon stealing a princess" agenda. ditto for marner and the leafs

21. do you believe in any hockey curses?

as someone who has been hip-deep in theatre culture, you get a healthy dose of superstition whether or not you actually believe in the curses or not. you don't say macbeth in a theatre. you say break a leg instead of good luck. you leave a ghost light out on stage before you leave for the night. in this i think theatre and hockey circles are the same. all this to say i don't necessarily believe in hockey curses but i also don't not believe in them. hope this helps

[kicksaddictny]

The Nike x Martine Rose Collection Redefines Women’s Football Styling

In fashion and in sport, there are singular moments that are so progressively bold that their arrival creates a clear “before” and “after.” In her latest partnership with Nike, designer Martine Rose has seized a moment for both fashion and sport, launching us all into an “after” world — one that is more inclusive, egalitarian, empowering and inspiring. 

The Nike x Martine Rose Collection dissolves the boundaries of men and women’s football styling with gender-free tailored player suiting that advances sport style and expands the culture of sport for the next generation. Purposefully connecting and merging the moments of “getting off the plane” to “arriving on the pitch,” the collection elevates the look of the elite women’s game and closes the gender gap in considered, crafted tailoring for women’s sport.

“When a woman wears a suit, it expresses strength, resilience and beauty,” says Martine. “I want women to feel powerful in their suits like men do. More than that, although I’m using women to tell the story, there’s no gender attached to the suit. Anyone can wear it. I hope one day we’re not talking about gender in sport and are just talking about the sport. Once everything is stripped back, it’s just the game that’s left.”

Ushering in a new era of women’s football, the collection is meant to meet the moment of this summer’s premier sporting event and to be worn in nuanced and meaningful ways by those involved.

“I love the mash-up that sports and fashion and culture has become, and as an athlete, I’ve always wanted what we wear to stand for more,” says Megan Rapinoe, Nike athlete, United States Women’s National Team member, and a muse for the Nike x Martine Rose Collection. “I think Martine, as a designer inspired by sports culture, is able to pull so much meaning into her work, and for her to be able to express herself through this moment that is so special to us is really cool — and obviously the pieces are just dope.”  

The Nike x Martine Rose Collection features a player’s suit jacket, trouser, trench and shirt; accessories, including stockings, gloves and sunglasses; and the latest iteration of the Nike x Martine Rose Shox Mule MR 4. The shoe’s eye-catching blue and purple colorway nods to the famously vibrant goalkeeper jerseys of the 1990s, while the silhouette acts as a talisman for equity in football, the ever-expanding culture of sport and a signal of what’s to come from Nike and Martine later in the year.

The collection will be available exclusively on Martine-Rose.com July 25 and on SNKRS and at select specialty stores July 27.

[bestshirtcanbuy]

Germany Coat Of Arms Camouflage Custom Baseball Jersey For Fan

Show Your German Pride with Style: The Custom Camouflage Baseball Jersey For the passionate German football fan, this isn't just another jersey. It's a statement. A bold display of your love for the national team, crafted with a unique twist. This custom baseball jersey features a camouflage pattern that pays homage to the German Coat of Arms,representing the rich history and unwavering spirit of the nation. This subtle yet impactful design allows you to proudly showcase your allegiance while standing out from the crowd. Imagine yourself at the stadium, surrounded by fellow fans, but your jersey is instantly recognizable. You're not just cheering, you're making a statement. This jersey isn't just about showing your team colors, it's about expressing your individuality and passion in a way that's distinctly German. Here's why this jersey is more than just a piece of clothing:  Uniquely Crafted: This isn't a mass-produced design.You'll be sporting a one-of-a-kind jersey that reflects your individual passion for Germany.  Built for Comfort: Made from high-quality materials, this jersey is designed for comfort and durability. It's perfect for cheering on your team, whether at the stadium or at home.  Versatile Style: The camouflage design isn't limited to game day. This jersey can be worn casually for a stylish and sporty look. It's a conversation starter and a unique way to represent your German heritage. This jersey is more than just a piece of clothing. It's an investment in your passion, a symbol of your pride, and a statement about who you are.Show your love for the German national team with a piece that's as unique and bold as you are.

Get it here : Germany Coat Of Arms Camouflage Custom Baseball Jersey For Fan

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

Related : https://bestshirtcanbuy.tumblr.com/post/717385261312557056/unisex-fishing-if-i-have-gone-missing-i-have-gone

[elliseleven]

Golden and freckles for the ask game!

Thanks for the ask!!

Golden - favorite stationary product? Freckles - most-worn article of clothing?

Golden - I honestly don't use much stationary anymore... I did used to have this pencil case that was all one zip and you could unzip it so it was all one really long zip and then zip it all the way back up again in a cylinder type shape. So probably that. I don't have it anymore though :(

Freckles - I don't have that many clothes tbh, so I tend to wear the same kinds of outfits every day (I have like 7 identical black t-shirts lmaoo). But I think the one piece of clothing I wear most is this jersey type jacket which is band merch of one of my favourite bands. I've had it for coming up to 10 years now, I think? They don't even make it anymore and I will probably never get rid of it

[giftsforus]

I Love The 49ers Mickey Mouse San Francisco 49ers T-Shirt

The San Francisco 49ers are one of the most beloved and storied franchises in the NFL. With a rich history and a dedicated fan base, it's no wonder why the team has such a strong following. If you're a fan of the 49ers or know someone who is, the "I Love The 49ers Mickey Mouse San Francisco 49ers T-Shirt" is the perfect gift for everyone. This t-shirt combines two iconic symbols - the 49ers and Mickey Mouse - creating a unique and stylish piece of clothing that any fan would be proud to wear. The design features a large print of Mickey Mouse wearing a San Francisco 49ers jersey and helmet, with the words "I Love the 49ers" written across the front. The vibrant red color of the t-shirt stands out and represents the team's signature color. It's made from high-quality materials that offer a comfortable and breathable fit, making it suitable for both men and women. Whether you're wearing it to a game, a tailgate party, or just out and about, this t-shirt is a fantastic way to show off your team pride. Not only is this t-shirt a great fashion statement, but it's also a timeless piece of memorabilia that commemorates the team's history. The San Francisco 49ers have won five Super Bowl championships, and their success throughout the years has created a legacy that fans hold dear. The t-shirt serves as a reminder of the team's achievements and allows fans to proudly display their support. The combination of Mickey Mouse and the 49ers is a nostalgic nod to the team's roots. Mickey Mouse is a beloved Disney character that transcends generations, and his presence on the t-shirt adds a touch of whimsy and fun. It's an excellent conversation starter and a fantastic way to connect with fellow 49ers fans. What sets this t-shirt apart from others is its versatility. It's suitable for fans of all ages and can be worn on various occasions. Whether you're attending a game, running errands, or simply lounging at home, this t-shirt is a comfortable and stylish choice that fits any setting. In conclusion, the "I Love The 49ers Mickey Mouse San Francisco 49ers T-Shirt" is a fantastic gift for everyone. Its combination of the San Francisco 49ers and Mickey Mouse creates a unique and stylish design that any fan would be proud to wear. It represents the team's rich history and serves as a constant reminder of their achievements. With its vibrant red color, high-quality materials, and versatile nature, this t-shirt is the perfect way to show off your team pride, whether you're a man or a woman. So, if you're looking for a gift that celebrates the San Francisco 49ers and brings a touch of Disney magic, look no further than this fantastic t-shirt.

Get it here : I Love The 49ers Mickey Mouse San Francisco 49ers T-Shirt

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

Related : https://giftsforus.tumblr.com/post/721253160912551936/united-states-space-force-space-operations-badge

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

I spent far too long contemplating these

D.A.M.N. Boy Fashion

Damien

Dark academia. He sticks to cool earth tones with flashes of warm colors in statement pieces or accessories. Damien is incredibly fashion forward. His image, just like every other part of him, is carefully maintained. He stays on top of current trends while keeping a strong emphasis on mainstays and signature cuts to his wardrobe.

Damien cinches his waist higher than his natural one, mostly because he likes a slightly feminine silhouette. He only wears a more masculine cut when he’s around his family.

He keeps an eye on K-Pop and J-Pop music videos and concerts since they have a pretty good sway on western fashion these days. He picks trends to emulate very carefully, and usually picks accessories or silhouettes to add into his wardrobe.

Oversized tops are fine, but never pants. All of his pants are tailored to accentuate his ass and hips, flaring slightly around his calves and cinching again at the ankle to make a clean, flowing line. Shorts are always with a five inch inseam to show just enough thigh while still being comfortable to move in.

In the winter, he carries (but never wears, he runs too hot for them) waist length peacoats in blacks, browns, and grays, layered collared shirts and sweaters, and plaid, paisley, and argyle patterns. In the summer, he wears cuffed shorts, pristine white Vans, ironed t-shirts, and sweater vests with nothing underneath.

(As a note, he has Huxley’s letterman. He’s not huge on oversized clothes, but he wears it to all of Huxley’s games.)

Lasko

Light academia with a softboy twist. Lighter, warmer earth tones than Damien. Warm tans and browns that are accented by touches of pastel colors. Lasko has less of an idea of what he’s doing fashion wise, but he does his best. He’s not as good at messing with the color wheel as Damien, so his pops of color sometimes clash with his neutrals, but always in an endearing, almost unnoticeable way.

Baggy is the name of the game. If Lasko can disappear into his clothes, he will. Even his glasses are oversized.

In the winter, he layers to the gods. Light turtlenecks under colorful button ups, corduroy statement pants, and chunky, platform loafers. In the summer, he still wears long sleeves and pants, but chooses thinner fabric. Vertical stripes, soft patterns, and tasteful graphic tees. Light wash jeans only, never black, white, or acid. Chuck Taylor’s that have seen better days.

He carries a worn dark green jansport backpack and a weathered leather computer bag. He wears small, silver jewelry. The occasional delicate necklace over a turtle neck or his D.A.M.N. class ring with an inset amethyst that is fading every so gradually in the sun.

Huxley

Jock chic. He would wear athletic clothes constantly if he could, but Damien insists that he wear nice clothes at least some of the time.

The goals in all of Huxley’s clothes are comfort and functionality. He wants to be able to move and/or sleep in anything he gets put in. He mostly wears, funnily enough, earth tones. Warm, dark browns, tans, and varieties of greens and yellows.

Hux runs hot and his partner is a fire elemental, so he doesn’t have the need heavy winter clothes. Snug, comfortable t-shirts and hoodies, sweatpants, and loose fitting jeans with shoe strings as belts. A jean jacket if it’s cold enough. Hiking boots and ten year old, creased Air Jordan’s, a gym bag that’s become a catch all for anything he needs.

The summer is when Hux really gets to wear what he wants. Flat front and Bermuda shorts. Light linen button ups and tank tops. Vintage graphic tees and faded jerseys. When he’s forced into formal wear, he’s a huge fan of florals. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a blazer.

Gavin

Gavin’s style is the hardest to pin down to a single aesthetic. He borrows from a lot of subcultures, mostly because he doesn’t really get that there are dedicated subcultures that contain rich fashion histories. He sees something he likes and he wears it.

His fashion borrows a lot from glam rock, both the masculine and the feminine. Bright, bold colors on a monochrome background. Heavy patterns and shape wear that gives him interesting and androgynous silhouettes.

Gavin doesn’t have a care in the world for the temperature. He wears what he wants when he wants. Nothing is seasonal.

He wears indecently low cut bottom layers under distressed graphic tees and layered jackets. Heavily distressed, skin tight jeans or flared pants that fall just above the ground. Leather pants and animal print. V-necks that reach his mid chest. Button ups that are almost constantly left open. High neck, pussy bow blouses. Bolo ties and thin, sheer scarves ties so tight around his throat you can see his Adam’s apple jump when he swallows.

Thigh high boots and platform doc martins. Sheer shirts and fishnets. Flowy dresses cinched with a corset. Bralettes or nipple tassels that just peak from behind a loosely tied poet shirt. Religious items and iconography he doesn’t understand. A mother of pearl rosary. A cross on a delicate, golden chain.