#jeremy swayman x oc

[ladylooch]

Messing Up a Good Thing - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy and his best friend have been in love with each other since college. With a new, secure future on the horizon, suddenly taking this new leap seems as inevitable as them.

Word Count: 4.5k

Main Trope: best friends to lovers

If there is anything I’ve learned about life in the 26 years, I’ve been on this Earth it’s that life really is all about timing. 

Both the right time and the wrong one. 

Since I met Jeremy Swayman, we’ve always seemed to fall into the latter category. 

Jeremy and I met at the University of Maine our freshman year in college. I was the quiet, reserved wallflower and he was the athlete running into our literary class at the last possible second. He sat down next to me and immediately asked to borrow a pen and piece of paper. I took one look at his Maine hockey jacket and resisted an eye roll.

Another athlete skating his way through a college degree on his way to the NHL.

But the next class, Jeremy brought in my “borrowed” pen and a piece of fresh, notebook paper.

“I know you have college ruled notebooks, but I only have wide so… let me know if you want two pieces.” He said as he tossed his own notebook onto his part of the table. I stared down at the two, torn sheets of notebook paper, unsure what to do with them or him as he pulled out the chair to sit next to me again. The room was still mostly empty.

“Um, there’s more spots open. You don’t have to sit here.” I point out to him.

His hazel eyes had stayed on me for a beat too long and then he shrugged. 

“Why mess up a good thing?”

Our “good thing” extended out into being partners for any small group discussions or projects. Jeremy would have the most ridiculous takes on the dystopian novels we suffered through that had me belly laughing so hard I was crying. Then when the professor would call on him, he would present this wildly accurate portrayal of literary themes. He would get kudos and I was left breathlessly in awe of how funny, smart, and talented he was. 

I don’t think I really need to say this, but yeah, I fell in love with him quickly. 

Through college, we never even got close to dating. I pined after him agonizingly for the first year we were friends, but he did what college athletes do and built up a decent roster of prettier girls than me. Rather than compete with that, I took my place by his side as the friend. It’s a place I’m more comfortable in anyway. Jeremy had a girlfriend or two throughout college. I had a few boyfriends, but between the two of us, nothing really stuck.

After his junior year, Jeremy turned pro. The distance sucked but we made it work. Whenever I could, I dragged myself up and down the East Coast. But more than that, we FaceTimed every single day that we were apart. We still do now, even though we live in the same city again. As I was wrapping up college in Maine, my entire job search focused on Boston. I ended up getting a job at a local engineering firm in an entry level position right as I graduated. Jeremy came to cheer me on and gifted me the most gorgeous Louis Vuitton brief case as a token to my hard work.

Although it’s never been spoken between us, I’m smart enough to know that we’ve both had more than friend feelings for each other over the years. It’s just never been the right time. One of us was in a relationship. Or Jeremy was too busy. Or he was going to turn pro. Or I was contemplating a move oversees to London with my company. 

The timing has never fit. As I go through another swing of being hopelessly in love with him, his contract situation is the latest road block. What if it doesn’t work out between him and the Bruins? Am I going to uproot my life for someone who isn’t even mine? I hope it doesn’t come to that, but the longer this drags out, the less it feels like Jeremy really has control in this situation.

I rub at my eyebrow as I work through editing an important, department wide email about a new process change. I pick at a few stray eyebrow hairs above my eye lid, trying to ignore the consistent thump of a tennis ball against the wall. 

Thump. 

The ball pops off the neutral paint to my left and my dog, Grizz, rushes after it. He snaps his teeth a second too late then runs back across the room to try to catch it before it hits Jeremy’s hands.

Thump.

Grizz’s paws scratch against the floor. 

Thump. 

“Jer?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you not?” I ask without removing my eyes from the screen.

“Is this bothering you?”

“Yes.”

Thump.

“Does it make it hard to work?”

“Yes.”

Thump.

“If I keep going will it mean we get lunch sooner?”

“You really need to go back to being employed.” I mutter to him.

“Hey! I’m trying here… they’re being obstinate.” He huffs.

“You’re trying?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow and looking over at him.

Thump.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve picked up the phone and talked to them?”

“No.. Lewis said I shouldn’t.” He speaks of his agent that I worry is playing more hardball for his own interest and less for Jeremy’s.

“I think you should.”

“Are you saying that so I stop throwing the ball?”

“Yes.”

Thump.

I grab a stress ball from my desk and whirl it at him. He catches it as effortlessly as he catches 99 mph slap shots. 

“Get out.” I point towards the front door to my apartment.

“No! I can’t be alone!” He wails dramatically, falling to the rug. Grizz bolts over to him and begins lapping at his face aggressively. His tail whips and flails at Jeremy’s bent legs. “Ow! That thing is a weapon!”

With the ball discarded away, I am able to go back to editing my draft communication memo. In a few clicks, I send it off to my manager to review, then lock my computer screen.

“Lunch?”

“Yes. See what happens when you let me work? I get done faster.”

“I’ve learned nothing from this.” Jeremy says from the floor where Grizz is still licking his face.

“You know he licks his butt right?”

“Dogs mouths are cleaner than humans.” Jeremy insists.

“I know what that dog eats. There is no way.” I shake my head, then head over to the door to grab Grizz’s leash. He’s a great patio dog and will be happy to come with us to a dog friendly spot down the block. “Let’s go. I have to be back by 1 for a team meeting and you’ll have to decide if you can be quiet enough to stay or if you’ll need to go back to your place.

“Booooo.” He wails. I throw him a look to silence his complaining. “I’ll take a nap with Grizz in your bed.” 

My stomach flip flops at the thought of Jeremy in my bed. He’s been there plenty of times, both with me and without. The thought of sliding into those sheets again tonight and inhaling his lingering scent has a low buzz forming in my body.

“We need to get this contract done.” I mutter. As much as I love having Jeremy around more, he has been incredibly distracting the last week. It’s been hard for me to avoid my feelings with his constant presence. He’s been paying for all my meals, ordering groceries for us, taking Grizz out for walks, and doing odds and ends tasks around my apartment. It’s like we are a couple. Except we’re not.

Nothing reminded me of that faster than when he was showing me different hydroponic herb gardens and his Raya notifications kept blowing up from some girl named Ava. That’s such a hot girl name. Ava. Ugh.

With Grizz leading the way, Jeremy and I head down to a lunch spot with good soups, salads, and sandwiches. It is a hidden, unknown spot in a quiet part of the city so our chances of being bombarded by fans is slim. I head up to the counter to order for us and Jeremy sits with Grizz on the patio. Grizz loves all things patios, sunshine, and Jeremy, so his happy, signature smile takes over his whole face as he lazily lays sunning himself on the concrete. The man holding his leash looks equally as adorable with his black sunglasses, tightly trimmed beard and dark hair. 

From beneath those dark lenses, I can feel hazel eyes on me. They watch my approach in a way that has my palms starting to sweat. Moments like this, I wonder if we could ever be more. What it might be like to sit across from him as more than just friends. But then the worst case scenario smack me out of fantasy land. 

I’d rather have Jeremy as a friend than lose him to circumstances or realities of how difficult relationships are for professional athletes.

“Did you get my son his bowl?” Jeremy asks.

“Your son?” I snort.

“He’s practically mine too.” 

“Yet you’re never around when he’s suddenly barfing at 2:00am after giving him too many table scraps.”

“Alright. Fair. I’ll sleep over every night I’m in town so we can co-parent this dog.”

“I doubt Ava would like that.” I purse my lips the second the words are out of my mouth. Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“Ava?” He asks, shaking his head slightly. “Who is that?” 

“Seriously, Jer?” I whine back slightly. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what? Who is Ava?” He holds a confused hand up, palm lifted to the sky.

“The girl who was blowing up your Raya inbox the other day.” 

“Oh.” He shrugs as a staff member comes to bring our meals to us, Grizz included. He starts scarfing it down quickly. “I’m off Raya again as of yesterday. Guess I don’t remember that one.” 

“He’s off Raya again, folks.” I make a joking type announcement to the patio. 

“It doesn’t seem to have what I want.” Jeremy says with a shrug after a bite of his turkey sandwich.

“You’re picky.” I point out to him.

“Okay, what’s your excuse?” He asks as he chomps on a chip.

��I’m career driven.” 

His eyebrows shoot up and he laughs.

“You try to quit every other week.”

“I could too if Grizz’s food wasn’t so expensive.” Never mind the rent in Boston.

“Ah. Blame the perfect dog. Mama is so mean to you.” Jeremy scratches between Grizz’s ears. “Dad would never.” He whispers to Grizz who licks his chops after demolishing his bowl. 

“You’re weird.”

“We have a connection. Also you only have this dog because of me. So I feel like I get to claim half of him.” It’s true. My first winter in Boston, I struggled. Jeremy helped by encouraging me to look at dogs for companionship. It helped for the lonely nights and to make friends at dog meet ups, pet stores, and neighbors in my apartment building. 

“I guess I should be asking for puppy support then? Mr. Millionaire."

“Send me a bill.” He chuckles around another chip. One hand stays between Grizz’s ears, scratching at him there until he sighs heavily, leaning into Jeremy’s leg. 

Jeremy is the only guy Grizz has really shown interest in my life. Of the few dates I’ve had here or there in Boston that have made it to meeting Grizz, he hasn’t liked a single one. Jeremy is a little too smug about that fact. It adds to his puppy daddy complex.

We continue to banter easily to each other as we finish lunch. Jeremy grabs a refill of his Arnie Palmer then we walk home to my place so I can get back to work. The rest of the afternoon, Grizz and Jeremy disappear into my room. I have to wake Jeremy up at 3pm because his phone has been buzzing non-stop on the kitchen counter where it had been charging. He groggily comes out, hair mused, eyes soft from sleep. 

“Oh! Damn!” He mutters, rubbing at his face as he clicks on his phone, bringing it to his ear. “Sorry I was- yeah?” He stops, listening. Slowly, a huge grin breaks out onto his face. He starts silently fist pumping, giving me a thumbs up and a smile that makes me melt in my spot. 

I love when he’s happy. I love when he’s this happy because I know what’s going to happen next.

After he clicks off the phone, he starts to laugh and cheer excitedly.

“Staying in Boston, baby!” He exclaims, crossing the kitchen to me. I throw my arms around his shoulders and he picks me up. His hands go to the back of my thighs to support my weight. Grizz barks and yelps excitedly, pawing at Jeremy’s thighs. “8 more years here!” He fills me in.

“Wow!” I exclaim with a bubbly laugh. “Wow, Jer… Congratulations.” I rest my cheek on his shoulder as he slows us down to sway together instead of of spin. “I’m so proud of you.” He stops his movements completely, causing me to pull away. We both realize how close our faces are. Yet we don’t move. Our lips hover mere centimeters apart. His part slightly. Our eyes search each other. I blink, looking away first. He clears his throat, releasing my thighs so my feet touch the floor again. 

“I loved fun-employment with you.” Jeremy says as I avoid his eyes by petting at Grizz to calm him down. He still pants happily, jazzed by our excitement.

“I can’t say the same.” I tease for a moment. Then shake my head. “I loved it too. Now, back to reality.” We look at each other. 

I mean it in a few more ways than hockey. Back to the reality of pining for each other and never doing anything about it. Back to sharing him with the world. Back to missing him when he’s all over North America. 

Back to business as usual. 

+ + +

I haven’t seen Jeremy in a few days now. He went right from my place to his place so he could take care of what needed to be done. The next day he was back at the Bruins offices, making social media videos, chatting with the media, and putting ink to paper to solidify the next four years of his life.

He texted, telling me we will celebrate soon. 

I’ve worked, walked Grizz, and tried to push aside this weird, grey sadness that has filled me since. I’m happy about this. I’m happy for him. But something is still missing. His life is molding firmer into all his dreams coming true and I feel like I’m lagging behind… being left behind is maybe a better way of saying it. 

Tonight, Jeremy played in his first game back in Boston. He asked if I wanted tickets - I guess they’re in high demand with the rest of his friends too. He wanted to make sure I could be there if I wanted to be. I said yes. 

He won, but admittedly looked a smidge off on his timing. A few snuck through that he normally would have had easily. It made me nervous sitting in TD Garden, wondering what Boston fans were thinking. Were they blaming him? Were we all moving forward? 

If so, why did it feel like my feet were stuck in cement.

After the game, I waited for him. He had a bunch of other people wanting to chat with him and congratulate him. They were all going out after the game with some of his teammates. I watched from the sidelines, soaking it all in. The way he makes sure everyone feels included. How he makes sure to ask every person something about their life and what they are up to. When he gets to me, he hugs me and exhales heavily. I can feel him relax in my arms. He holds on a few moments too long- we both do- then he pulls away, rubbing my back.

“Are you coming out with us?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I figured. Work.” He murmurs, understanding completely. I’m always tired on Friday from the work week. I’m a much better version of myself on Saturday mornings. 

“Thank you for the invite though. I’ll see you…?” I trail off because I’m not sure. He’s about to head on the road again.

“I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow?” He suggests.

“At noon?” I chuckle, knowing he’ll be out late and unavailable earlier.

“Fair.. I’ll bring you… something.” He chuckles.

“How about you call me when you’re up.”

“Better idea.” He confirms. “I’ll walk you to your car.” 

“No, I’m good!” I park in a special lot garage for families, so there is no need for concern of safety. I don’t even have to go outside. Jeremy frowns, glancing back at the group of his friends then he nods.

“Okay. Text me when you get home.”

“I always do.” I murmur, reminding him of our agreement, no matter where we are in the world to tell each other when we are safe. I toss a small wave to him, then a bigger one to the group who tries to get me to stay as I spit out excuse after excuse. But I do need to get back to Grizz. 

No one is more excited to see me than that fluff ball and he practically takes me out at the legs when I get home. We go outside so he can get his bathroom break and some sniffs in. Then it’s time for the couch and a mindless TV show. I pick Brooklyn 99 and despite the chuckles it pulls from me, I’m falling asleep before I know it. 

I’m not quite sure how long I’m sleeping, but it feels quick when a knock at my door is awakening me. I jolt, disoriented and confused at who it might be. I glance at my phone, blinking the sleep away. I see a few texts from Jeremy, heading to the door, assuming it’s him. 

I look out the peep hole and am confirmed with the sight of my best friend.

“Hey?” I say, opening up the door. I squint at the hallway light, hating how intrusive it is to my sleepy eyes. Jeremy stands on the other side in a jacket, black T, dark jeans and gray sneakers. In his left hand is a bottle of champagne.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” His voice has a huskiness to it. I briefly wonder if he is drunk. My eyes float up to his but they’re clear and sober.

“Um, I fell asleep watching Brooklyn 99 on the couch.” I admit. “Long week.”

“I probably didn’t make it easier.” He murmurs, hazel eyes softening as he takes in my tired face. I shrug in response then move aside for him to enter the apartment. No he didn’t make it easier. But I wouldn’t have traded this week with him for anything. It was magic in the way time with him always is.

“Thought you were going out tonight?”

“I did.” He says, setting the bottle on the counter. He motions to it, asking if I want some. I nod. He leaves the chilled bottle there then goes to the cupboard my glasses are in. He pulls out two stemless wine glasses, then goes back to the bottle. “But turns out, you’re the only one I want to celebrate with tonight.” A small, meaningful smile tilts the corners of my lips up. 

“Mhm.” I murmur as Grizz comes over, tiredly nudging at Jeremy’s hand for some scratches. “You sure it’s not for him?”

“I’m sure. It’s you.” He says simply. 

My heart seems to pause for a beat in my chest then begins rapidly pounding. Jeremy works open the bottle of champagne. 

“Woo!” He cheers at the controlled pop. Then he is rushing through pouring out two glasses for us. “Cheers, cheers.” He murmurs, handing me one. We clink our glasses together and take sips together.

“How did it feel tonight?”

“Good. Thank you for being there. I don’t think I got to say that at the arena.”

“You’re welcome. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Yeah. You’ve always been there for the big stuff. It means so much to me. You know that?”

“I do.” I nod. “Not many people stick together through moves, new cities, new jobs… It’s like everything has changed over the years, but not us.”

“Yeah, not us.” Jeremy echos. “Why mess up a good thing?” He repeats like that second class we had so many years ago now. I nod slowly. That may have contributed to our friendship continuing over the years, but it’s also become my biggest excuse. Maybe his too. 

“Wanna sit?” He asks, flicking his fingers towards the couch. I follow him there, tossing the blanket I had around my shoulders to the side. I click at the TV, turning the volume down on the episodes that have kept rolling while I slept. 

“Do you want to watch something else?”

“No.” Jeremy says. He takes a sip of his champagne, then sets it off to the side. He grabs my cup, doing the same. I frown in confusion. “I got you something.” He informs me, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. He pulls out a black jewelry box, putting it between us on the couch. “As a thank you for putting up with my annoying ass all these years, but especially the last few weeks. This all would have been so much harder without you. Every time I was spiraling, or unsure, you talked me off the ledge. You’ve always believed in me and this feels… as much yours as it is mine.”

“I feel lucky I get to share all this with you.” I tell him honestly. My fingers touch the velvet box, then pop the top open as I pick it up. Hugged by the plush fabric is a necklace with his number. It’s gold with a sleek black filling- Bruins colors- and obviously expensive. 

This isn’t a gift you get a friend. I know this and as I raise my eyes to his, I know he does too. He slides closer to me on the couch. Our legs touch. He reaches for mine folding them into his lap to get us as close as possible.

“What are you doing?” My voice sounds foreign, laced with wonder and worry.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.” He whispers. He hesitantly reaches for my face as I sit stuck to the couch. His fingers brush my jaw and I shiver. My eyes close briefly, trying to absorb the difference in his touch now. I can hear every hitch of his breath as he pulls in a deep breath. “Babe, I’m in love with you…” The last word trails off between us. 

I’m overwhelmed by the emotions that flow through me. Internally, I’m sprinting for joy. I’m throwing up from anxiety. I’m screaming like I just won the Stanley Cup. Then it all comes crashing to a halt as I realize this is it. He’s taking the leap. We’ll either come out of this together or lose everything. 

Despite that, I know what I need to say.

“I love you too.” My voice cracks a bit so I clear my throat. “I always have.”

“Like a friend?” He whispers back. He hangs on every sound coming from my mouth like I hold the key to his survival from this point on.

“No. So much more than that. But I’m afraid to ruin this.” I admit quietly as his thumb traces my mouth. He watches his appendage go around my lips, his slightly parting before his eyes raise to mine. His bright hazel orbs have a look of finality in them.

“I’m not.” 

Then his lips collect mine in a tentative kiss. That first touch of our lips rocks my world. It explodes planets. It shifts moons and stars across my galaxy until the center of the universe is Jeremy Swayman. His right hand comes up to cup my neck, then he rolls his tongue out of his mouth to taste more of me. 

“Yes.” He murmurs into my lips. “So good. So right.” He pulls me in tighter so I collapse onto his chest, then he lays back on the couch with me on top of him. My knees slide to the sides of his hips. I straddle him confidently and start to kiss him back in the ways I’ve been envisioning for years. His hands wander everywhere on my body. They don’t stay suck on my hips; he takes his purchase of me like he owns me now. 

Fuck, I want him to own me. 

My hips roll against his lap and his run down my back to my ass, taking a hearty squeeze.

“Shit.” He suddenly says as he pulls away. My heart leaps into my throat. “Too fast.” He says breathlessly. 

“How can that be too fast? We’ve been slow burning for seven years, Jer.” He chuckles, looking up at me above him. He reaches up to tuck my hair back behind my ear. His fingers collide with my cheek and he smoothes the tips of them down my face to my lips swollen from his.

“I want to be able to tell our kids in another seven years that I did this right.”

I still, eyes growing wide at the confidence he says those words with. I put a hand on the center of his chest, feeling his wild heartbeat beneath my palm. I swallow thickly, then slowly nod.

“For our babies.” I agree, then slide off his lap. 

He sits up next to me, chuckling as he does. Grizz sits over on his bed, watching us with curious eyes.

“Our first baby doesn’t seem surprised.” The nonchalantness of it all is so Jeremy. It’s so us, really.

“I don’t think anyone will be.” I answer as I tuck my feet under my thighs. Jeremy reaches for the necklace box that fell to the floor when we got carried away with our kiss.

“Probably not.” He finally answers my statement. “Turn, please. Wanna see me on you…” I hum in appreciation, holding my hair up so he can secure the clasp. The weight of the necklace can’t even hold me down as I float on cloud 9 from how right this feels - the resolution of his contract, the necklace, him.

Our dog lazily smiling at us across the room.

Jeremy wraps his hands around my stomach then pulls me back into his body so we are cuddling together. Our glasses of champagne sit forgotten on the coffee table. 

All we care about now is holding each other in this way for the first time.

Jeremey’s hand trails up to my face, cupping my chin to turn it so he can kiss me again. This one is softer, more patient, knowing we have time to explore all of this together. His fingers move from my chin to his number on me. He traces the single digit then quietly whispers. 

“Finally mine.” 

I smile, unwilling to pinch myself to know if this is all real or not.

“I’ve always been yours.” 

The way Jermey beams back at me is all the proof I need to know it is anyway. 

More hockey fics of mine are here for your enjoyment.

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

[jackethockey]

NHL one shot

warnings: heavy smut, sexual content, detailed sex, offensive language

(jeremy x oc)

The moment Jeremy Swayman, the towering goaltender for the Boston Bruins, laid eyes on her, he felt his heart stumble in his chest. She was a vision amidst the bustling city crowd, her auburn hair catching the autumn sunlight and her emerald eyes sparkling with a mischief that made him want to know her secrets. He had just stepped out of the TD Garden after a grueling practice, the scent of ice and sweat clinging to his gear as he navigated through the throngs of die-hard fans. Jeremy had always been good at keeping his cool under pressure, but as he watched her from afar, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee and chuckling at something on her phone, he found himself utterly captivated. She was the kind of woman who could make any man drop his guard, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to play it safe.

The air was charged with the electricity of a thousand whispers as he approached her, each step feeling heavier than the last. He was Jeremy Swayman, NHL star, and she was just a girl with a pretty smile and a love for the game. Yet, as their eyes met, something in that fleeting glance told him that she could be more than just a fan, more than just a girl. She looked up at him, surprise etched into her delicate features, and Jeremy felt his pulse quicken. He had seen her at a few games before, always sitting in the same seat, always wearing that vintage Boston Bruins cap that sat so perfectly on her head. But now, as their paths crossed in this random, chaotic dance of fate, he realized that he had to know her name, had to find a way to make her smile just for him.

"Hi," he murmured, his voice raspier than he had intended, but she seemed to melt at the sound of it. "I'm Jeremy."

Her eyes widened, the green depths swimming with excitement.

"I know," she replied with a shy smile, her cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink. "I've seen you play. You're amazing."

"Thank you," he said, his heart pounding in his chest. "But I'm just a guy who loves the sport. What brings you to the games?"

Her name was Emily, and she was a sports journalist, a fact that only served to intrigue him more. They talked for what felt like hours, about the nuances of the game, the thrill of scoring the winning goal, and the unspoken camaraderie that existed between players and fans. Jeremy found himself drawn to her wit, her passion, and the way she could dissect a play with the precision of a seasoned coach. Emily, for her part, was charmed by his humility and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the ice. It was as if he saw the world through a different lens, one that was frosty and fast-paced, yet filled with a warmth that was impossible to ignore.

As the day turned to night, and the chill of the autumn air settled in, Jeremy knew he had to ask. 

"Would you like to grab dinner with me tonight?"

Emily looked at him, a mix of disbelief and excitement playing across her features.

 "I'd love to," she said, her voice a soft whisper that seemed to echo in the emptying streets.

The restaurant was a cozy Italian place, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, they shared stories of their lives, their dreams, and their fears. Jeremy spoke of the pressure to perform, the weight of expectations, and the camaraderie of the locker room. Emily, in turn, revealed her love for the written word, the rush of adrenaline she got from being ringside at a game, and the quiet solitude of her apartment, where she penned her articles. They laughed, they connected, and somewhere between the breadsticks and the dessert menu, Jeremy felt something shift within him. This wasn't just an innocent dinner; it was the beginning of something much more profound.

Their first kiss came as a surprise, a gentle brush of their lips that seemed to speak of a future filled with passion and promise. It was as if the universe had paused just for them, the cacophony of the city fading into a gentle symphony of their hearts beating in sync. Jeremy felt a jolt of electricity run through him as he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was nothing but the warmth of her body pressed against his. Emily's hands roamed up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his jersey, as if she could feel the power of his love for the game, and for her, through the very threads that made him a Boston Bruin. The kiss grew hungry, desperate, and it was all Jeremy could do to keep from sweeping her off her feet and into the nearest alleyway. But he didn't want to scare her off. He wanted to savor this moment, to etch it into his memory forever, to let her know that she was the one who had stolen his heart, and he had no intention of ever getting it back.

Their relationship grew with the speed of a breakaway on fresh ice, each moment more exhilarating than the last. Jeremy found himself thinking of Emily during games, her name a silent chant that fueled his every move. Off the rink, their dates were a delightful blend of shared laughter and tender touches that grew more intimate with each passing day. They explored the hidden gems of Boston together, from the quiet bookstores she adored to the secret spots where they could watch the sunset without the intrusion of flashing cameras. As their bond deepened, so did their desire for one another, the simmering tension between them threatening to boil over. It was inevitable that one evening, as they stumbled into his apartment after a particularly exhilarating victory, the barrier between them would shatter. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, and Jeremy couldn't resist the urge to claim her lips once more, this time with a fervor that spoke of all the nights he'd dreamed of having her in his arms. Her body molded to his, and he knew that this was no longer a simple infatuation—it was love, raw and all-consuming, and it was about to set their worlds ablaze.

Jeremy's need for her grew more intense with every second, and he couldn't wait any longer to feel her completely bare against his skin. With a gentle yet firm tug, he removed her sweater and bra, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Her nipples pebbled under his gaze, and he couldn't resist the urge to lean in and take one into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive peak while his thumb and forefinger pinched and rolled the other. Emily moaned, arching her back to offer herself up to him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. His tongue traced circles around her areola, teasing and taunting before he took her nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. She gasped, and he could feel her pussy quiver against his leg. He knew she was desperate for more, but he wanted to savor every moment, to make sure she felt the same all-consuming desire that was burning through him. With a smirk, he slid his hand down her torso, his fingers finding the waistband of her jeans. He undid the button and zipper with ease, his eyes never leaving hers, and slid his hand inside, feeling the heat of her pussy through the fabric. Emily's breath caught as he began to rub her clit, his touch feather-light and maddening. She squirmed beneath him, her hands reaching up to tug at his hair, urging him to give her more. But Jeremy was a master of patience, and he took his time, watching the pleasure build in her eyes until she was panting and begging for release. Only then did he push her jeans down her legs, revealing her to him in all her beauty. He kissed his way down her body, his mouth worshiping every inch of her soft skin until he reached her pussy, already glistening with arousal. His tongue darted out, flicking against her clit as his fingers delved into her folds, seeking the spot that would make her come apart. Emily's hips bucked up to meet his mouth, and she moaned his name, her voice a sweet symphony of need. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit, feeling her body tense with each pass. When she was on the brink, he slowed down, drawing out the exquisite agony, making her beg for release. But he was relentless, eager to hear the sweet sound of her pleasure when she finally shattered for him. And when she did, it was like nothing he had ever experienced, her pussy clenching around his fingers, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. He lapped up every drop of her, savoring her taste, before standing to remove his own clothes. His dick was hard and heavy, the veins standing out in stark relief, and he couldn't wait to bury himself inside her. With a swift motion, he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his dick nudging at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, watching her face contort with pleasure, feeling her pussy clench around him as he filled her completely. She was so tight, so wet, and he groaned with the effort it took to keep from pounding into her. Instead, he took his time, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had her moaning and writhing beneath him. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he felt her climb closer and closer to the edge again. His hand found her clit, and he began to rub it in time with his thrusts, watching her eyes glaze over with passion. Emily's nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper, faster. And when she came, it was with a scream that echoed through the apartment, her pussy milking his cock as he followed her over the edge, filling her with his cum. They lay there, panting and trembling, their bodies slick with sweat, and Jeremy knew that this was just the beginning of a love affair that would burn hotter than any game he had ever played.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Girl

This is my submission for the Eras fic challenge graciously organized by @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston. The song assigned to me was "Getaway Car" I had a really hard time coming up with a player and an idea that I could build on. So for those that might be less familiar with this song (like me), from what I read, the lyrics can be tied to Taylor's relationship ending with Calvin Harris and her romance with Tom Hiddleston. Using this as the foundation, in this fic, the player I chose - Jeremy Swayman will be "Taylor" in the story. The fic itself heavily showcases a Canadian group called City and Colour. When I heard Jeremy sing and play guitar in the Face Off docuseries, I likened him to Dallas Green, the lead singer. This is my first time writing for Jeremy so I hope you like it, and thank you again for organizing such an awesome challenge.

Warnings - none other than profanity. Alludes to a partner cheating. Apologies if I missed anything.

Word Count - approx 6k

For anyone wanting to hear the City and Colour songs noted in the story: The Girl Waiting

Jeremy’s hubcaps grazed the curb as he slowed, squinting at the row of elegant houses lining the quiet street. He double-checked the address showing on his GPS, then shifted his gaze back to the home in front of him. It had to be the right place. His eyes took in the towering Victorian style mansion, its brick work, tan in colour accented by ornate gray-green trim, and he shifted uneasily in his seat. He hadn’t expected anything quite like this—a recording studio tucked away among the historic mansions of Boston’s Beacon Hill neighborhood.

The house loomed over him as he stepped out, guitar case in hand, its weathered charm giving off the look of a travelling musician. He fidgeted and tried to shake off the nerves prickling under his skin. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He should’ve gone somewhere more modern, more professional—or maybe not at all.

Before he could tuck tail and run, the front door swung open. A woman stepped out onto the porch, her loose sweater slipping slightly off one shoulder, her sandy-brown hair catching the autumn afternoon sunlight. She smiled—a natural, easy smile that disarmed him almost immediately.

“Jeremy Swayman - so nice to meet you” she said, her voice light and friendly. “I’m Rowan. Come on in.”

He paused, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Uh, yeah. Thanks for—thanks for squeezing me in.”

She waved him off as if it were no trouble at all. “Not a problem. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As she led him up the steps and through the wide wooden door, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he knew her from somewhere. Her voice, her face—something about her triggered an odd familiarity that he couldn’t quite place. But when she caught him sneaking a glance at her, her expression stayed neutral. If she noticed his curiosity, she didn’t let on.

Inside, the house smelled faintly of aged wood and a light scent of fresh linens. The checkerboard floor in the main entrance lead to a grand staircase, and beyond that was the recording space just down a flight of stairs. The studio was intimate but well-equipped, with a mix of modern gear and vintage touches. Rowan moved through it with an effortless confidence, and Jeremy found himself relaxing despite his earlier hesitation.

“So,” she said, motioning for him to take a seat on the worn leather couch by the wall. “What brings you here today?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It’s, uh, for my girlfriend. Our anniversary’s coming up, and I wanted to do something special. Record a song for her. We’re uh - going through…well, something. I guess I just want something to say that I get how hard her life is sometimes - being with, well - me.”

Rowan’s eyebrows lifted, her lips curving into a smile. “That’s a really beautiful gesture. Do you have a song in mind?”

Jeremy hesitated. “Not… really. I mean, I had a couple ideas, but…” He sighed. “Honestly, my brain’s kind of fried right now. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

Rowan nodded, her expression shifting to something softer. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.” She crossed the room and grabbed an acoustic guitar propped against a corner. “Let’s start simple.”

She sat on the edge of a stool, fingers dancing over the strings as she flipped through a worn catalogue of song titles. “Any particular vibe you’re going for? Romantic? Upbeat? Nostalgic?”

“Nostalgic, I guess,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Something meaningful but… not too cheesy.”

Rowan chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Got it. Let’s see…” She played a few opening chords of ‘Patience’ by Guns ‘n Roses, then another, ‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse, humming softly as she tested the waters. Jeremy listened, but nothing clicked. His mind was too cluttered, too distracted by the pressure of his collapsing relationship and everything else that had gone on recently with his newly signed contract weighing him down.

And then Rowan shifted, her head tilting slightly as if an idea had just occurred to her. “How about this one?” she asked, her fingers brushing over the strings.

The melody was soft, almost haunting, and then she began to sing:

“I wish I could do better by you, 'cause that's what you deserve…”

Jeremy froze. Her voice wasn’t just good—it was incredible. Rich and soulful, with a sweetness that made the lyrics feel like they were meant for this song. He barely heard the words; all he could focus on was her, the way she poured herself into the song as if it came straight from her heart.

By the time she finished the verse, he realized he’d been staring. She caught his gaze, her lips quirking into a smile.

“City and Colour,” she said, breaking the silence. “The Girl. I think the lyrics fit your situation perfectly. I’m sure it’s not an easy balancing act between your career and your lives together.”

He blinked, his voice catching in his throat. “Yeah,” he managed, though his thoughts were spinning.

The song was beautiful—the lyrics were perfect… if only they actually applied to his girlfriend, Aileen. Jeremy had uncovered her duplicity in their relationship, a more troubling side of her personality revealed during his difficult salary arbitration the year before. At a time when he needed support, Aileen’s comments throughout the summer of 2023 had done nothing but highlight her true colors. Now, with his signature inked on an eight-year contract—negotiated publicly at times in the media—Aileen acted as though she were owed something simply for her presence during the standoff between Jeremy and the Boston Bruins.

Jeremy had hoped that doing something to remind her of the times that were loving and fun—rather than riddled with angst and harsh words—might help them get through this low point.

Rowan set her guitar aside, resting it gently against the stool, and tilted her head at Jeremy. “Alright, I think I’ve got a good sense of the style you’re going for. But now, it’s your turn.”

Jeremy blinked, looking slightly panicked. “My turn?”

She smiled, reassuring but firm. “Yeah. I need to hear what I’m working with. No pressure—I just want to get a feel for your range.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his unease evident. “I mean, I play guitar… but singing’s not really my thing. I’m just a goalie, you know?”

Rowan laughed softly, leaning back on the stool. “I think you’re selling yourself short. Dallas Green’s style is about pure emotion, not perfection - even though I think his voice is as close to perfection as they come. Besides, you don’t have to be a pro—you just have to mean it.”

Jeremy hesitated, shifting in his seat. His fingers drummed against his knees. “What do you want me to sing?”

She thought for a moment, then picked up her guitar again. “How about this? I’ll play the chords for ‘The Girl.’ You just follow along. No one’s judging here—it’s just the two of us.”

He gave a reluctant nod, his grip tightening slightly on the armrest before he stood. “Alright… but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As Rowan started strumming, Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The first note came out hesitant, barely above a whisper, but soon his voice steadied. It wasn’t polished, but it was honest and filled with a depth Rowan hadn’t expected. By the time he hit the chorus, his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She was definitely impressed.

When he finished, Jeremy looked up, half-expecting her to laugh or offer some fake version of applause. Reactions that reminded him of Aileen. Instead, she stared at him, her eyes wide and sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place.

“You’ve got something - I’m just floored here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Got what?” he asked, shifting awkwardly.

“That thing,” she said, gesturing vaguely but enthusiastically. “Your tone, your emotion— it’s beautiful. You might not realize it, but your voice can tell a story.”

Jeremy’s ears reddened. “I don’t know about that…”

“I do,” she countered supportively. “Trust me. We can work with this. If you give yourself a chance - just breathe, you’ll surprise yourself. Plus, then I get to do my job and make any adjustments when I produce the final version.”

For the first time since arriving, Jeremy felt a flicker of pride. He wasn’t sure if it was her words or the way she said them, but something about Rowan made him believe she meant it.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to reply, the soft clicking of claws on hardwood interrupted her. He glanced over her shoulder just as a graying dog ambled into the room, tail wagging lazily. His soulful eyes locked onto Jeremy, who immediately brightened.

“This is Arty,” Rowan said, sliding off the stool to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “He’s an old boy, but he runs the place.”

Jeremy crouched down, letting Arty sniff his hand before giving him a gentle pat. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his voice warm. “You’re a good-looking guy, huh?”

As if on cue, another dog trotted in—this one bigger, younger, and distinctly more mischievous. His tail wagged furiously as he bounded up to Jeremy.

“And this troublemaker,” she said with a laugh, “is Paulie. I’m sort of a Sopranos fan - not sure if you could tell. Arty’s the straight laced guy and Paulie - well, he means well but he’s nothing but trouble.”

“Paulie, huh?” Jeremy chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the floor as both dogs circled him. “You’re not gonna take me out back if I don’t perform well, are you?” He pointed two fingers at his temple as he glanced toward Rowan.

Rowan laughed, her voice light and genuine. “They’re my shadows - I guess the worst that they’ll do is walk out if they don’t like what they hear. But they’ll listen if you don’t want them around you…some people aren’t comfortable around them.”

Jeremy rubbed Arty’s ears, grinning as the dog leaned into his touch. “I don’t mind. This guy’s already my favorite.”

Rowan watched the scene unfold, her heart softening as Jeremy shifted effortlessly into this quieter, more relaxed version of himself. The tension he’d carried in with him seemed to dissolve under Arty’s gentle nudge and Paulie’s playfulness. For a moment, she simply let it happen, the room filled with the sound of paws padding across the wooden floor and easy conversation.

“Alright,” Rowan said after a while, sitting back on the couch. “So, now that you’ve won over my protectors, what’s next? Do you want to keep searching for a song or are we sticking with City and Colour?”

Jeremy leaned back, scratching Arty’s head. “Let’s stick with City and Colour for now. I had never heard of them and I’m already wanting to hear more of their songs.”

“Let’s start there then - you can hear the original…you’ll hear the similarities in your voices. Or, that’s what I hear anyway.”

Rowan queued the song and the now familiar tune streamed through the open space. Jeremy sat silently, smiling as he visualized playing the chords on his acoustic guitar. He loved the lyrics. He loved the sentiment of the song. It was the perfect song to sing for a supportive partner, to recognize their sacrifices as he lives out his dreams. It was the perfect song, just not for Aileen.

—

Throughout the next week, Jeremy found himself back at Rowan’s house, each time with his guitar slung over his shoulder as he climbed the familiar steps. The air had turned colder, the crispness of late fall settling into Boston, but the warmth of Rowan’s home hadn’t changed.

During the time he spent at her studio, he had learned why she looked so familiar to Jeremy. Rowan, formerly known as ‘Shea’ as in her last name, had hit the big time with an epic album released when she was only 19 years old. The record went triple platinum with hit after hit with music that fused together pop/rock and alternative genres. She was slated as one of the most exciting up and coming artists, and then she simply vanished from the scene. There was the usual speculation - everything from substance abuse to affairs with notable celebrities - all of which were wildly untrue. Rowan had been exposed to the seamy underbelly of the entertainment industry and desperately clung onto her sensibilities, squirreling away whatever funds she had access to. She wanted to simply make music but the powers that be saw her only as a physically beautiful commodity. Every party she was told to attend made her die a little inside. This path was not her path and she stepped away broken hearted and jaded. She set about making wise investments, and soon bought her home in Boston, with the hopes of helping burgeoning musicians and singers begin their professional journeys. Jeremy was fascinated as Rowan walked him through her experiences and somehow felt so lucky that he stumbled across her studio in the first place.

Inside, Rowan was already setting up the equipment, her usual ease and efficiency making him feel like this was just another day. But for Jeremy, it was starting to feel like much more. He hadn’t told her how bad things had gotten—not about the Bruins’ lackluster start to the season, not about Aileen’s constant ultimatums—but he suspected she could see it anyway. Somehow, she always seemed to know when to give him space or when to fill it with music and conversation.

“Alright,” Rowan said, looking up from her setup. “Ready to lay down the first take?”

Jeremy hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He sat on the stool she’d adjusted for him, his fingers brushing over the strings of his acoustic guitar. Rowan adjusted the mic stand, stepping back to the mixing board as she donned her headphones.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said softly, her voice encouraging.

Jeremy exhaled, then began to play. The familiar chords flowed easily, but as he sang the first line, his voice cracked slightly. He paused, frustrated, but Rowan didn’t flinch.

“That’s okay,” she said calmly. “Take it from the top. Feel the words—don’t force them.”

He nodded and tried again. This time, his voice carried more weight, more emotion. As he poured himself into the lyrics, he closed his eyes, realizing the person he should have been singing about never came to mind. His crumbling relationship felt distant, replaced by an unexpected feeling of gratitude—toward Rowan. Thinking of her as ‘The Girl’ made everything suddenly click.

Rowan didn’t interrupt, letting him finish the entire song. When the last chord faded, Jeremy looked up, as he tried to gauge if she could see right through him and how he was feeling.

“That,” she said, pulling off her headphones, “was incredible. You’ve got the heart of this song, Jeremy. It’s all there.”

He managed a small smile. If only she knew. “Thanks, Rowan. I just… started to really feel something. I don’t know if I have ever felt…whatever this is inside of me right now.”

Rowan tilted her head, studying him. “I know it’s been a tough go lately with your team. You’re carrying a lot. I can hear it in your voice.”

Jeremy shifted, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, well, life’s been a bit of a mess - not just with the team…but in other areas too.”

She didn’t press, instead she raised an eyebrow and flashed a knowing smile. “You know, the last part of this song has a group vocal—it’s a big moment right at the end. Think you can bring in a few teammates? I don’t want to insinuate anything about your recent - hmmm - play….but maybe you could call it a little team-building exercise.”

Jeremy let out a short laugh. “You think anyone on the Bruins can carry a tune?”

Rowan grinned. “I’ll fix whatever comes out of them - I’ll use some Autotune and work some of my magic and have them sounding like Dean Martin in no time.”

He chuckled - but he warmed to the idea. “I’ll see what I can do. They’re gonna fuckin chirp me to no end for this, though.”

“Yeah - maybe,” Rowan said with a shrug. “But I’m telling you, if you invite Marchand, you better tell him to keep his hands and his tongue to himself.”

—

The sound of voices and heavy footsteps shuffled up the path to Rowan’s front door, growing louder with each passing second. Jeremy pushed open the gate, followed by a crowd of grinning teammates. Rowan opened the door, raising an eyebrow as she took in the scene.

“Uh, hey,” Jeremy said sheepishly, gesturing to the group. “I might’ve brought a few of the guys.”

“A few…Jesus, I see more than a few and see nothing but trouble,” she said wryly.

David Pastrnak stepped forward, offering his hand. “We’re here to make music—or noise - or at least make Sway look good.”

Rowan laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with. Shoes off, no shit-talking or fighting, and try not to knock over the equipment.”

Everyone looked back at Brad Marchand as the usual suspect - who scoffed and offered a subtle “Fuck off” in response.

The guys filed into the studio, some looking around curiously while others settled in, tossing good-natured jabs Jeremy’s way.

“So, what’s the plan, Rockstar?” Charlie McAvoy teased, nudging Jeremy. “You gonna serenade us first?”

“Something like that,” Jeremy muttered, adjusting his guitar. “Let’s just… see how it goes.”

Rowan handed out lyric sheets and lined them up around a few microphones. “Okay, so this is the chorus. It’s pretty simple—just follow Jeremy’s lead and try to stay in tune. I’ll clean it up in post if I have to.”

Marchand, already leaning into the mic with a cheeky grin, said, “Stay in tune? You’re asking a lot.”

“Just don’t scare the dogs,” Rowan quipped, followed by a round of laughter.

As the session began, the guys started off exactly as expected—laughing, chirping, and singing off-key. But as Jeremy’s voice filled the studio, something shifted. His vocals echoed in the studio and immediately grounded the group in the song’s meaning. One by one, their teasing faded, replaced by an intense and silent focus. By the second take, they were all invested, their voices sounding surprisingly sincere.

When the final note faded, Rowan removed her headphones, a satisfied smile on her face. “You guys nailed that. Seriously.”

The room erupted in laughter and high-fives, but it wasn’t until David spoke up that the mood turned reflective.

“You know,” he said, leaning back against the wall, “this isn’t just about Sway’s girl. This song—it’s for all of them. Wives, girlfriends… they deal with a lot, putting up with us.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, nodding. “Can we get some extra copies? As a thank-you to the ladies?”

Jeremy looked around, seeing the agreement on their faces. After feeling pretty low about how things had started this season, feeling like the locker room was against him, all of that seemed to dissolve in that moment.

He glanced at Rowan, who gave him a little wink. “Alright, looks like we’ve got a plan. Let’s make this thing perfect,” she said.

Jeremy slowly packed up his guitar, dragging out the process longer than necessary. The studio was quieter now, most of the guys chatting amongst themselves and seemingly in no hurry to leave. Rowan stood near the mixing board, talking with Brendan Carlo and Andrew Peeke. Her soft laugh carried across the room, and Jeremy couldn’t help but glance over at her.

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that letting himself think about Rowan this way—about how she made him feel—wasn’t fair. Not to her, not to Aileen, and not to himself. She had her own world, and he was just… a client. She’d been kind to him, shared her talent and her time, but that didn’t mean there was anything more to it. Still, the thought of leaving, of this being the last time he saw her, tied his insides into knots.

What would Rowan even think if she knew how much he’d come to rely on these moments with her? How he felt like himself in a way he hadn’t in months—or maybe even years? She deserved better than to be pulled into his mess, and yet, the idea of walking away felt impossible.

He stared at the latches on his guitar case. He knew it was time to go, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. His stomach tightened as he looked at her, so naturally beautiful and at ease. Some of the guys had wandered down the hall, checking out the framed photos on the wall with Arty and Paulie meandering after them, but Jeremy stayed frozen in place.

This felt like it could be the last moment. In the short time since Jeremy had been coming here, it had become his escape, a refuge into music and incredible company with Rowan. Aileen had all but deserted Jeremy, claiming to be visiting relatives but then subsequently being tagged in a group photo taken in Cancun.

After that day, there’d be no reason to come back except to pick up the final version of the recording. He might not see Rowan again. That thought twisted his insides. If he stayed, it meant he was admitting—at least to himself—that he felt more for her than he should. But if he left… leaving felt worse. It felt like closing a door he didn’t want to close.

Rowan glanced over and smiled warmly. “You all set?”

Jeremy nodded, forcing himself to move even though his chest felt heavy. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

But as he walked toward the door, he knew he wasn’t good. Not at all.

Jeremy’s teammates all filed out the door after saying their goodbye’s to Rowan and her two companions, leaving Jeremy still standing at the entrance. He now wished he had driven alone instead of with Peeke and McAvoy.

Rowan smiled at Jeremy. “You sure made the past little while very interesting for me. It was truly a pleasure working with you - I hope you and your girlfriend will like the finished version. I think I can have it ready for you this week if you’re in a rush for it?”

“No - no rush for it,” Jeremy said, all the while thinking that he wasn’t sure he even had a girlfriend to give it to anymore.

Two Weeks Later

The message from Rowan had come late the night before: The recordings are ready. I even had them pressed onto vinyl for keepsakes—hope that’s okay. Let me know when you want to swing by to grab them.

Now, standing on her front steps again, Jeremy hesitated before knocking. His heart felt heavier with the gnawing ache of uncertainty pounding in his chest. The last two weeks had been nothing but chaos—poor games, relentless media scrutiny, and the inevitable breakup with Aileen, who enjoyed the company of another man during and after her trip to Cancun. Although the writing had been on the wall with their relationship, it still broke him to think of the Aileen he first loved versus the woman that turned on him in the end.

Rowan’s message acted like a glimmer of calm amid the noise. He just wasn’t sure what to expect—was it only a pick-up, or was it a goodbye for good?

When Rowan opened the door, she immediately noticed Jeremy’s forced smile and the exhaustion in his eyes. She invited him in, calling for the dogs, who eagerly bounded over, tails wagging. Jeremy crouched to greet them, his hand lingering on Arty’s graying head as if grounding himself.

They talked for a while, their conversation light at first—about hockey, the team, anything but what was really weighing on him. But eventually, Jeremy opened up, revealing the unraveling of his relationship with Aileen. He didn’t go into all the details, but he shared enough for Rowan to understand why the polished recording felt like too much to face right now.

Rowan listened quietly, her heart sinking a little more with each word. She had worked hard on the recording, pouring everything she could into making it perfect. But it wasn’t disappointment in her work that weighed on her; it was the ache of watching Jeremy struggle, his usual steady presence fractured.

As he stood to leave, Jeremy hesitated near the door. “Thanks for… everything,” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

“You didn’t,” Rowan said gently. “If anything, I’m glad you trusted me enough to talk.”

He gave her a small, genuine smile, and she took a step closer. “Before you go,” she said, her voice soft, “I want you to listen to another song. It’s by City and Colour, called ‘Waiting.’ It might… help. Or at least make you feel less alone.”

Jeremy nodded, taking the suggestion to heart. “I’ll check it out.”

They said their goodbyes, hesitant and drawn out, as though neither wanted the moment to end. But eventually, Jeremy made his way back to his car, the recording and her words weighing heavily in his mind.

Once he settled into the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone, searching for the song. The opening notes played softly through the speakers, followed by the first line: “A coma might feel better than this.”

Jeremy couldn’t help it—he laughed, a sound that felt both strange and relieving in the quiet of the car. “She really gets it,” he murmured, shaking his head as the rest of the song unfolded. For the first time in a while, he felt like someone truly understood what he was going through.

Jeremy’s laughter faded as the song played on, the haunting lyrics sinking deeper into his thoughts. He didn’t start the car right away, just sat there, letting Waiting loop again and again. Each line felt like it was all about the life he was living in that moment and it somehow offered him comfort.

The opening words hit harder with each repetition. Jeremy leaned back against the headrest, his hand resting loosely on the steering wheel. The ache in his chest swelled as the next line played: You're weighed down, you're full of something… of sickness, and desertion.

Finally, he started the engine and pulled out onto the quiet street. He wasn’t sure where he was going—not home, not to the rink. Maybe nowhere in particular. The city passed by in a blur of lights as the song repeated, with Jeremy getting lost in lyrics and his thoughts over and over again.

Saying goodbye to love, and holding your head up high… He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his breath catching at the sheer gut punch of it. The words felt like they were ripping apart everything inside him—his failed relationship, the weight of his career, the absolute loneliness he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

As the next verse played, the ache in his chest twisted deeper: All your friends seem like enemies when you’re broken down and empty. The truth of it hit too close to home. Aileen had made him feel that way too—isolated, unworthy, alone. And yet… there was something about Rowan’s presence, her ease and warmth, that had started to chip away at the weight of it all.

Before he realized it, Jeremy found himself turning down Rowan’s street. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. But as he slowed in front of her house, his hands rested on the wheel, and his heart thudded in his chest.

What was he doing? He didn’t have a reason to be here, not again, not so soon. And yet, sitting there in the dark, with her house glowing softly against the night, he felt a pull he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just about the music or the comfort she’d given him. It was her—Rowan. The way she understood him without him having to explain. The way her presence made everything feel just a little less heavy.

Jeremy stared at the house, the song still playing quietly through the car speakers. So say goodbye to love, and hold your head up high… there’s no need to rush, we’re all just waiting, waiting to die. He sighed, his hands tightening briefly on the wheel before he shut off the engine.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but as he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to her door, he realized it didn’t matter. He just needed to see her.

The sound of Paulie suddenly barking from his perch at the front window prompted Rowan to step away from her piano. His low, excited woof and wagging tail signaled something unusual. She moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside. Her eyes widened as she spotted Jeremy standing at the bottom of the steps, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking uncertain but hopeful… maybe?

Without hesitating, she opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “Jeremy?” she called softly, the cool night air brushing against her skin. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He looked up, and she was struck by how different he seemed. The tension that had gripped him earlier was gone, replaced by something raw and alive, as though he had been completely resuscitated. He climbed the steps, stopping just in front of her.

“That song,” he began, his voice low and almost breathless. “It felt like it bore into my soul. How… how did you know? How did you know that’s exactly what I’ve been feeling?”

Rowan blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice and the emotion in his eyes. “I didn’t know—not exactly,” she admitted. “I just… saw something in you. It just came into my head, and it felt right.”

Jeremy let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “In such a short time, you’ve… I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but it feels like you give me everything I didn’t even know I needed. Everything I could possibly want.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Rowan’s heart raced, her breath catching at the weight of his confession, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “Jeremy,” she said carefully, “let’s talk inside, okay?”

Jeremy hesitated for just a moment before nodding. As he stepped past her, the warmth of the house wrapped around him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.

Inside, Rowan guided him to the couch, sitting opposite him. Paulie climbed onto Jeremy’s lap, his wagging tail thumping softly against the cushions, while Arty settled at Rowan’s feet. For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the dogs’ sighs, their lips flapping as they exhaled.

“Jeremy,” Rowan began gently, her hands resting on her knees, “what you said outside… it’s a lot. I won’t lie—I feel…something too. But this… it’s fast. It’s not logical, and it’s… complicated.”

“I know it’s fast,” Jeremy said, his voice quiet but firm. “But I can’t ignore this. Rowan, I haven’t felt this alive, this… right, in years. Not even close.”

She met his gaze, her heart aching his total vulnerability in that moment. “I’m not saying no,” she said softly. “I’m saying we need to take small steps. You just got out of a relationship. You’re carrying so much, and I don’t want to be….considered like your escape. I don’t want to be your getaway car from everything in your life.”

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged slightly, her words both grounding and sobering him. “I don’t see you that way,” he said earnestly. “I know it’s more than that. I feel it.”

Rowan offered him a small, understanding smile. “I’m leaving for New York tomorrow for a couple of weeks,” she said. “Maybe we can use that time to figure this out—to see if what we’re feeling is real.”

He nodded slowly, taking it in. “And if it is?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll message you when I get back,” she said, her smile softening. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jeremy’s lips quirked into a small, subdued smile. “Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll wait. Whatever it takes—I’ll wait.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, easing into something more hopeful from the expressions on their faces. Finally, Rowan stood, motioning toward the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

As he stepped onto the porch, the crisp night air hit him, but it didn’t feel as heavy as before. He turned back to look at Rowan, her silhouette framed in the warm glow of the house behind her. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

“Take care of yourself, Jeremy,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jeremy walked down the steps, his heart lighter than it had been in months. He didn’t know where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind waiting to find out.

BONUS SCENE

Three weeks later, Jeremy stood on Rowan’s porch again, his heart thudding with nervous excitement. He adjusted the strap of the small bag slung over his shoulder, which contained the vinyl of "The Girl" he’d brought with him. He had thought of her every idle moment during her time away, and when her message finally came, it felt like he could breathe again.

Rowan had kept her word, messaging him as soon as she returned from New York. Jeremy had been on a road trip when it came through, but he had responded immediately, and the moment he could, he called her. Her voice, warm and familiar, had filled him with a lightness he hadn’t felt in weeks.

Now, standing here, he could hardly wait to see her.

The door opened, and there she was, her smile as radiant as he remembered. “Hey,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “It’s good to see you. Come on in.”

He stepped into the house, the warmth and familiar scent wrapping around him like a favorite blanket. The dogs trotted over, Paulie practically bouncing, and Jeremy crouched to greet them, laughing as Paulie licked his face.

“I missed this guy,” he said, scratching behind Paulie’s ears before standing.

Rowan watched him with an amused smile as Arty strolled in after a long stretch. “I think they both did.”

Jeremy straightened, holding up the bag. “I brought something,” he said, his voice softening. “I haven’t listened to the recording yet. I couldn’t bring myself to want to hear it. But when you messaged me….I don’t know…I just needed to hear it for the first time with you. I even made all the guys wait until I heard it first,” he chuckled.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed as she looked at him in slight disbelief. “Well,” she said, gesturing toward the sitting room, “let’s play it, then.”

They moved to the record player Rowan kept in the corner of the room, and she carefully set the vinyl on the turntable. The needle dropped, and the familiar, haunting chords of "The Girl" began to play. Jeremy sat back on the couch beside Rowan, his hands resting on his knees as his voice filled the room.

Jeremy was stunned. He could not believe that was his voice singing, and his guitar playing. The sheer pride he felt was one thing, but hearing how Rowan had perfected every single sound - he was completely in awe of her.

Rowan turned to him. “So, what do you think?” she asked, trying to stifle her smirk, as it was more than apparent what he thought. She stepped toward the player to lift the needle off the record.

But as she sat, the space between them seemed to shrink. Her heart began to race as he reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“My beautiful girl,” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice filled with affection.

Rowan leaned in and kissed him softly - it was the slow and quiet beginnings of something they both knew would be worth waiting for.

[hockeyboysimagines]

So far from the stars

Chapter 4

Warnings: implied sex, some language, angst.

Hello all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always let me know what you think.

Thanks🤍

Courtney didn’t see or hear from Jeremy for almost a week. The weather was beautiful and warm but she felt so cold.

She was sure that her friendship with him, which had been hanging by a thread seemingly before they had sex, was over now. Even when he was in Boston he was still a part of her life and she still heard from him regularly.

But now it was like he never existed at all. No texts, no calls, no contact through friends. Nothing.

And it was entirely her fault.

She felt terrible, so much in fact that she couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror. She was ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted with what she had done and she’d never wanted to be someone else more in her life. She thought Brad had broken her heart, but that was nothing compared to how hard she’d broken it.

Her friends had been texting, calling, and Kasey and Veronica had even knocked on her door on Wednesday but she’d hidden in her bedroom until they left.

She couldn’t face anyone, unsure of what they knew. Kasey and Veronica would probably understand and forgive her but the rest of them were Jeremy’s friends first, not hers, and they would likely never speak to her again. She’d completely dismantled her friend group single-handedly in one fucking day.

She really sucked.

She sighed and tucked a leg under her settling deeper into her spot on her sofa, wondering how things had gotten so bad so fast when she heard a knock that started out soft before it got louder.

“We know your home bitch open the door!” Veronica called loudly from the other side.

Courtney remained seated holding her breath as if they could hear her, but they weren’t going away.

“We’re not leaving till you come out. Don’t make me start harassing your neighbors cuz I will….COURTNEY. Open! the! door!” Veronica was now banging on the door so loud it was shaking the picture frames on the wall.

With a huff, she pushed off the sofa and made her way slowly across the room taking a deep breath before she opened the door. They looked both annoyed and surprised to see her before Kasey spoke.

“WOW. You look terrible.”

Courtney made a face “Gee thanks. Great to see you too, after all this time that’s the first thing you have to say.”

“It wouldn’t have been so long if you’d answered when we’d been here on Wednesday.” Veronica said quirking an eyebrow.

“I must not have been-“

“No. You were home. Do you think we’re dumb?”

“Don’t really want me to answer that question?”

“Whatever. Come on we’re going fishing.”

Courtney leaned against her framed and crossed her arms “You can go. I’m not in the mood and I don’t like fishing.”

“I wasn’t asking. Get dressed I’ll wait. And we’re not leaving till you do it, so you can either sit and sulk all day while we’re here, or you can get dressed and come along. Your choice.”

Courtney huffed again and stomped up the steps to get dressed and then stomped back down, arms folded the whole way to the car and the whole ride to the lake. Once on the canoe and out into the open, they spoke for the first time.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been kinda bitchy all week.” Kasey said handing her an oar and settling herself on the opposite side of the boat.

“I have not.”

“Kinda bitchy?” Veronica chuckled “That’s a nice way to put it. Ignoring us was extremely bitchy. Does this have anything to do with breaking up with your boyfriend?”

Courtney froze, oar in mid air “My what?”

Veronica smiled mischievously and shrugged, glancing at Kasey “Justin told me that you and Jeremy haven’t talked all week. Said he’s real broken up about it.”

Courtney avoided her eyes and made a face “Well Justin should mind his own business.”

“So that’s exactly what it is then.” Kasey said as they began to paddle out “If you and Jeremy are arguing about something I’m sure it can be solved if you just talk to him. I mean it’s Jeremy.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, everything is fine.”

“Yeah it sounds like it. What is the problem if you just tell us maybe we can-“

“Stop. Can you guys leave-“

But she was silenced when the biggest fish she’d ever seen jumped out of the water and into the boat startling all of them. They stood at the same time upsetting the balance of the canoe, as it flopped around on the floor of the boat. They let out a shriek as they fell into a heap as the fish before it bounced back out, and the boat rocked back and forth, nearly tipping. It was the first time Courtney laughed in a week as they untangled from each other, and attempted to settle the boat. Kasey had lost a shoe and was putting it back on wiping the tears from under her eyes, as Courtney pulled her foot out of the bucket they had on the boat, when Veronica spoke.

“Uhm guys…what happened to our oars?” She questioned.

They glanced around to see the oars had fallen off the side of the boat in the chaos and were now floating several feet away on either side.

“Oh what the fuck. Now what are we gonna do?” Kasey said. She leaned out of the boat as far as sh e could without tipping it to try and reach it but it was no good. It had floated nearly ten feet away by now.

“Well someone’s gonna have to go in and get it.” Veronica said looking at them.

“Oh hell no, that water is freezing I’m not going in.”

“Don’t be so selfish.”

“It’s not about being selfish Veronica it’s about hypothermia-“

“Oh stop it’s not that cold.”

“Oh yeah. Well then why don’t YOU jump in and get it.” Kasey said jabbing her with a finger in the arm. Veronica swatted her hand away and crossed her arms.

“Well I can’t. I don’t know how to swim. Courtney. You’re a great swimmer.”

“Me?? I didn’t even want to come on this trip. It was your idea and you do know how to swim, Queen of skinny dipping, so you get the oar.”

“Bitch I-“

“Alright alright enough enough. Let’s just call someone-“ she was patting her coat pockets and frowned “Not me though. My phones in the car.”

“I have mine but no service.” Veronica held the phone out and waved it around trying to catch a bar but she shook her head “Nothing.”

“I have service. Let me call Justin.”

But he didn’t answer. And neither did Corey, or Mike, or anyone until there was really only one option.

“Well no one answered so I don’t know anyone else.” She put the phone back in her pocket and looked up to find Veronica staring at her with a frown.

“We all know someone who is not busy and a 40 minute drive from here, and who you didn’t even attempt to call.” Veronica leaned around Kelsey and stared at Courtney waiting for an answer.

She made a face and shrugged “Don’t look at me, I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Courtney.” Veronica said leaning forward.

“I don’t want to.”

“Courtney.” She said more firmly.

“What?” Kasey asked looking between them “What are-“

“Courtney is going to call Jeremy to come and get us.”

She shook her head “I’m not calling him.”

“We are STUCK in a boat in the middle of this lake. Now if you have a killer backstroke that can get us out of here then let’s do it. Otherwise call him to get us out.”

Courtney let her head fall back “Fucking fine. But if this backfires I’m pushing both of you overboard.”

Jessica waved her off and Courtney pulled out her phone glancing at them “What-what do I say?”

“Oh give it to me.” Veronica snatched the phone and held it to her ear. It rang a few times before he answered.

Veronica perked up “Jeremy. What? Nevermind why I have her phone I need your help. What? She’s fine listen. We’re stuck in the middle of a lake and no one is answering their phone. Can you come get us? I don’t know how you’re gonna do it but you’ll figure it out. Don’t be an idiot alright just come get us. And hurry it’s fucking freezing out here. Great. Bye.”

She handed the phone back “The guys are all together that’s why they didn’t answer. He’s coming.”

“Fantastic.” Courtney mumbled putting the phone back in her pocket and stuffed her hands in with it.

The wind had picked up a little bit and grey clouds had stared to roll in over the mountain surely signaling rain. It was about 10 minutes until Kasey broke the silence.

“So what happened between you guys anyway?” Kasey asked as she pulled her hood up and stuck her hands in her pockets “Must have been pretty bad if you won’t even call him.”

She looked at her feet “If I tell you guys, can you keep it to yourselves please? I’m already on thin ice with him, the last thing I need is him hearing I’m telling people business that isn’t theirs.”

“Come on. Who are we going to tell?” Veronica asked waving a hand around at the empty lake and outer lying areas.

“I mean like keep it to yourself. Don’t repeat it to anyone.”

“You know we wouldn’t do that.”

Courtney sighed and cleared her throat “We went out for drinks one night, and I guess-I don’t know I guess I kissed him and then passed out.” Veronica’s hand flew over her mouth as she continued “And then he finally told me last week after we saw Brad at the bar and I followed him out and we…you know, and then I just left while he was asleep, and now here we are.”

“You had sex with Jeremy?!” Veronica screeched causing a flock of birds nesting in a tree nearby to take flight, squawking loudly at her from overhead. Kasey didn’t say anything just stared at her open mouthed, letting out a breath “Woooooow.” She breathed out “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah.” She said looking at her feet. It felt good to tell someone about it, but reliving it felt worse than the first time.

“Jesus….so it was great right?”

Kasey coughed to cover her laughing and Courtney rolled her eyes “Really? I tell you all that’s and you ask me how good it was.”

“I mean.” Veronica shrugged and grinned “It’s a fair question no? Plus the guys been in love with you for years so I’m really not that surprised I guess.”

“Well I am. I don’t think he had it in him to make a move like that.” Kasey said giggling.

“Shutup.” Courtney said and kicked at her foot “Did everyone know this except me?”

“I think so but I’m not sure how you didn’t know this. I’ll give you a grace period after the whole Brad thing, but I mean really it never occurred to you that maybe he liked you a little bit more than friends?”

“No. And I mean that really.”

Kasey pursed her lips and closed one eye in thought “I kind of get it. I mean it’s easy to friend zone a guy. Especially one you wanna try and keep in your life as much as possible, but I think you read the signs wrong. He made it pretty obvious, and maybe you don’t see it that way but we all did.”

“I just feel…really bad. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well. I’d start with an apology and then maybe explain why you did it.”

“But I don’t know why I did it.”

“Yes you do. You did it because you like him and you freaked out.”

“Maybe.” Courtney shrugged and closed her eyes as a light breeze swept across the water and she shivered “But what if he hates me.”

“Nah.” Veronica waved her hand “He could hate us, but he could never hate you. No matter how upset he was.”

The minutes ticked by while Kasey and Veronica talked her through how she should handle seeing him for the first time and she felt mostly prepared. That was until she saw Justin’s truck pull up next to Veronica’s car parked by the dock part of the lake. Even from their spot in the boat they could see him laughing as he and the other guys, Jeremy included, hopped out.

Justin gave them a large wave and held his hands around his mouth “Hey! Fancy seeing you guys here!”

Veronica gave him the finger and yelled back “Don’t be an ass! Just come get us we’re stuck.”

“That’s no way to talk to a guy who came to save you, and your the ass who got stuck in the middle of a lake!” He yelled back.

Courtney could see Jeremy hang back as the others got in the boat and rowed out to them, retrieving the oars as they neared the boat.

“So what did we learn?” Justin asked as he handed them to Kasey chuckling.

“Don’t look at me, it wasn’t our fault. It was the fish.”

“The fish?”

“It attacked us and that’s how we lost our oars. It’s true!” She said as they began to paddle back. Courtney felt like she was going to throw up as they neared the shore. Jeremy was leaning on the front fender of Justin’s truck, hands in his pockets, looking at his feet. He didn’t even glance up as the boat beached and she got out. In fact he turned away from her and made his way back to the passenger door as they approached.

“Glad we could have this little gathering because we’re having a party at Mike’s house. You guys in?”

“N-“ Courtney started to say but Veronica slapped her arm and cut her off “We’re in.”

Jeremy paused and half turned looking at her for the first time since he’d gotten there. She looked at him apprehensively and they’d stared at each other for a second before he opened the door and got in the truck wordlessly.

Justin pursed his lips and looked at her apologetically, as they shuffled into their respective vehicles and made the trip to Miles. Kasey and Veronica didn’t bug her in the ride over and she was glad. She’d had so much to say until she saw him and then suddenly she couldn’t find the words. She was not mentally or emotionally prepared to see him after all this time and having to acknowledge what she’d done.

When they reached Mike’s house she stepped out and found herself face to face with him. It was now or never.

She cleared her throat and looked up at him “Thanks.” She said looking down at her feet “You didn’t have to come out and get us.”

He sighed “I wasn’t going to leave you in the middle of a lake Courtney. No matter how upset I am.”

She nodded and blinked a few times tears stinging her eyes “Well I appreciate that.”

He looked so good. Tired, indifferent to her, but good. She wanted to reach out and hug him, but she wasn’t sure he wanted her to do that so she stayed where she was.

“It’s good to see you Courtney. Even if it is a bit weird.” He gave her a half smile and walked ahead of her.

She let out a long breath and followed the group in. He stayed away from her in the house leaving her with Kasey and Veronica. It had hurt her to not see him for a week, really bad. But to see him now and how he wanted nothing to do with her was even worse. She didn’t blame him but it was upsetting none the less.

The rain they’d watched come over the mountain earlier, was now coming down in buckets, and everyone was scattered through the house drinking and having a good time except Courtney, who was pouting in the living room, and Jeremy who was nowhere to be found.

She wondered idly if he left because she was there, until Justin kicked her foot and sat down across from her “What’s wrong? I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from the kitchen.”

She shrugged “Nothing really.”

“He’s still here somewhere. Do you wanna tell me what happened with you guys? He’s been off all week.”

Courtney shook her head and looked at her lap before she looked back up at him. Understanding spread across his face like a lightbulb turning on and he leaned back “Ah. I see.”

“He hates me doesn’t he?”

“I don’t think he could hate you. I think he’s just confused is all. You gotta talk to him.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me Justin. If he did he would have.”

“No.” Justin shook his head “I just think he thinks that you don’t wanna talk to him. Just find him and have a conversation with him. Seriously. I promise you’ll feel better.”

He left her to think over a while until she couldn’t think anymore. She needed some air. The inside was too suffocating, too loud, too many people and coupled with the thoughts in her brain it was making her sick to her stomach to be inside. She slipped out of the living room without being noticed, or so she thought and made her way outside rubbing her arms through her sleeves. Fog had covered most of Mikes back and side yard as she made her way to the beach on the back part of the porch, and turned the corner to find Jeremy already seated on it.

Her heart lept into her throat and she stopped mid-step just as he looked up “Oh sorry I didn’t-“

He shook his head and looked back out across the landscape “It’s okay.” He looked at her and then the empty spot next to him on the bench “You can sit. If you want.”

She did want. So bad, and the invite made it seem like he did too. She bit her lip and took a few small steps forward, and sat down next to him, careful not to touch him in case he didn’t want her to. She watched quietly as the excess runoff of rain from the roof overflowed the gutter, making a waterfall that was pooling on the grass and front walk.

It was silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke “I never thought we’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like not even friends anymore.” He sounded a little sad, and sighed, glancing down before he looked forward again.

She felt her chest tighten “Are we not friends anymore?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Just because we haven’t spoken-“

“It’s not because we haven’t spoken and you know it.”

She nodded and blinked tears away, sniffling “I know. You deserve better Jeremy.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head “Don’t tell me what I deserve Courtney.”

“I just mean you deserve someone better than me is all. I’m not anyone you want or need in your life.”

“Come on don’t-“ he let out a huff “I don’t know what else to say Courtney. I mean, I’ve been over this in my head 100 times. Maybe I should have kept it to myself, and maybe we shouldn’t have had sex but it happened and instead of talking to me about it, you shut me out.”

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear “Your right. That was wrong of me. I should have just talked to you about it, and I didn’t. And I’m really sorry.” She blinked tears away “I never thought in a million years that this is a conversation we’d ever be having.”

“Why did you do it though?” He shrugged and turned to look at her for the first time “I thought we could talk about anything. And then, you just shut me out like that.”

“I just got scared is all.”

“Why?” He looked at her sadly “Courtney. I would never do anything to hurt you or jeopardize things between us. You know that right?”

She nodded “I-I do.”

“No I don’t think so.” He was shaking his head “If you did you wouldn’t have walked out on me like that.” He shoved off the bench and stood “I can’t-I can’t do this. I can’t go back to being ‘just your friend Jeremy’ anymore. Maybe that’s selfish, and if it is I’m sorry but it’s just not enough for me and I can’t pretend any longer. And the worst part is I’m pretty sure you feel the same way, but for whatever reason you won’t admit it.” She felt hot tears prick at her eyelids as he continued “I don’t understand why, and I hate that things are the way they are. And I hate that I’m making you cry but I just can’t pretend like I don’t feel about you the way that I do.”

“Wait-“ she said jumping off the bench and grabbing his wrist “Please don’t walk away.” She wrapped her arms around his midsection to keep him in place, cheek resting against his chest. She could feel his heart beating as another tear ran down her cheek and she took a ragged breath.

His stood there frozen for a second before he let out a long breath and reached a hand up to pat her on the back as he said softly “Please don’t-don’t cry.” He put a hand on either side of her face to pull it back from his chest and wiped the tears from under her eyes. His entire body was screaming at him to stop because it would end just like the last time but he just couldn’t do it.

“Jeremy.” She said softly, gaze moving between his mouth and his eyes.

With a big giant Fuck you to his brain, as his heart cheered he leaned in a little, nose brushing hers before he kissed her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she stood on tiptoe, as a hand came to rest on either side of her waist.

Inside Justin was peering out the window chuckling “What’s happening?” Kasey asked looking over at Justin who chuckled.

“Nothing. Just Jeremy and Courtney making out on the back porch.”

The rest of the group let out a cheer and few cat calls from the kitchen as Kasey and Veronica high fived “No way! Finally. Took them long enough. Jesus what’s it been like 10 years?”

Justin giggled and closed the curtain “Let’s give them some privacy.”

[drewsbuzzcut]

Mastermind

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

The Masterminds fic (6k words eek!)

Warnings: angst! Lyla feeling sad, angry, annoyed, mentions of vomit and being sick, and heavy miscommunication

Takes place: offseason of 2024

Lyla sits in the middle of her giant pile of clothing. Open suitcases surround her, but nothing’s more daunting or demanding than her thoughts. She’s frustrated and sad, and even more frustrated that she’s sad when she really doesn’t have a reason to be. With Jeremy’s season ending, she fully expected him to join her on tour for a good chunk of her shows. In fact, she’s already been jotting down places for them to go to on her days off. Mind you, Lyla has not asked her boyfriend if he’ll be joining her. Which is why when he told her his plans to head over to Maine then home to Alaska the week she’s supposed to set out for her first show, she was more than shocked. She didn’t show it, not wanting to start an unnecessary argument. Her change in demeanor was noticeable, though. She got quiet and distant. So all while Lyla is trying not to burst into angry flames- surrounded by the incessant reminder that she’s leaving, Jeremy is packing his own suitcase at his own home, feeling disappointed that Lyla never brought up joining him for the week she has off during her tour.

The real kicker is that like Lyla, he never asked her to come. Lyla wasn’t going to just invite herself either. She isn’t one to push boundaries.

It’s not like the hockey player didn’t want to invite her, he just couldn’t get himself to do it. Agonizing thoughts of Lyla not being fulfilled with her time in Alaska roam freely in his mind. He’s so afraid of himself not being enough for her. He knows that her life is fast paced and luxurious. It’s not like Lyla is superficial, Jeremy just doesn’t want her to realize that he and Alaska aren’t something that she wants. It’d be the hardest pill to swallow and Jeremy isn’t up for feeling like he can’t breathe.

He’s also not too sure if it’d be too soon. He doesn’t want to be pushy, or god forbid he scare her with inviting her to his hometown. The last thing he wants is for Lyla to feel like he’s trying to force them to move fast. His trepidation does more harm than good, though.

The couple is so caught up in their lack of communication that all other communication ceases. Time they should be spending together before they part ways, is spent packing up their lives as if they aren’t so imbedded in each other.

Lyla spends her free time wallowing in her ache. The days bleed into each other, and Lyla finds herself becoming hallow with every text and every call that goes unanswered longer than usual. Lyla hasn’t felt this empty in a long time, but recently she finds herself going blank. There aren’t any words that she can send him or tell him that will suffice. Being a songwriter, but not knowing what to say or how to say it makes her feel like a fraud. That makes her even more vacant. There are no swinging doors even though she’s constantly pounding on them, fists going raw with each second that passes.

Her final day in Boston comes with seeing Jeremy for the first time in what feels like forever. In reality it’s only been two days. He paid a visit while she was in the studio making last minute adjustments to her setlist. They talked and even shared a few longing kisses, but everything felt uncertain. Things still feel odd during their last day together until who knows when. Their conversation flows like normal, but the undeniable tension and agitation linger around each word spoken.

“So, are you excited for the tour? You have a lot of sold out shows,” Jeremy whispers from where he’s sitting on her bed. He tries not to frown, but Lyla can see the dip in his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” the girl mutters, coming out from her closet dressed in her airport outfit. She’s sporting one of Jeremy’s bruins shirts and leggings. She may be bothered with him, but she still craves the comfort his smell brings when wrapped around her.

“Any nerves?”

“No. Why would I be nervous? It’s not like I’ve not been planning this tour for so long,” she snarls, immediately regretting it when she sees his eyes divert from where she’s standing.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really stressed.” A lie. Well, not entirely. She is stressed about the future of their relationship, but she’s not exactly helping it.

Jeremy stands and comes up behind her, hand rubbing at the back of her neck. She feels her shoulders drop as some of the tension eases, but her heart still feels heavy.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” Jeremy kisses the nape of her neck.

Lyla feels the irritation fester inside of her. It boils and grows and she really doesn’t want it to spill over the edges. For a second she thought that her boyfriend would call her out on their stalling relationship, and maybe she can leave for tour feeling relieved and secure with the strength of their foundation.

“It’s not nerves,” she says, pulling away and continuing to pack up some last minute things. “I just- once I step outside with my sunglasses on to block out everything around me and get on that bus, everything is just going to slip away. The months are going to pass by so fast and I’m barely going to have any time to talk with you or anyone. I’m not nervous, I’m just feeling bittersweet. I’m excited and I want to see my fans sing my songs back to me, but I just don’t… I don’t know,” she finishes, heart sinking in an endless pit of misery. Jeremy looks so crestfallen.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. That must be really rough. Surely we’ll still have time to talk,” he says, body fighting the urge to pull her into his arms.

“It’s hard to determine. I’ll be busy a good chunk of the day and when I’m not busy, I’ll be sleeping or on vocal rest or rehearsing. I wish I could say that we’d be able to talk often, but I just don’t know. This is the first big tour I’m going on, so I don’t know the toll it’ll have on me,” she slaps close her suitcase, zipping up bits of her life inside.

“Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“It’s time for me to head out,” Lyla says, voice raspy with the sobs sitting at the base of her throat.

“Let me carry your suitcase down.”

She nods her head. Their descent down the elevator shaft is awfully quiet. The fear and frustration thickens around them, making the space feel crowded even though it’s just them.

Lyla stands back while Jeremy loads up her luggage on the tour bus. It’s not until she has no time left that she brings herself inside to scope out what will be her home for the next few months. Jeremy looks around as well, feeling a sting in his eyes when he realizes there’s really no room for anything. He wonders where she’ll be able to place her favorite candle, or if she’d be able to hang up her favorite pictures. And just maybe, she really meant it when she said there would be no time to talk.

“Thank you for bringing my things down. I’m going to miss you,” she says, walking up to him but not initiating any physical contact.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he pulls her into him and Lyla thinks she might cry if he doesn’t let go of her anytime soon.

She lifts her head from where it’s resting on his chest and presses her lips to his.

“Ly, it’s time to hit the road,” she nods her head and gulps down every emotion teetering on the edge.

“Have a good offseason,” she kisses his cheek with one last squeeze to his body.

“Have a good tour,” he whispers against her lips, pulling away and dragging himself out of that bus before he burrows himself into her already stuffed suitcase.

He knows he should get in his car and drive away, focus on his offseason, but he can’t help but watch the huge automobile drive away with the one person he doesn’t want to be away from.

-

From the moment Lyla wakes up, she’s being pulled in every direction for fittings and soundcheck. Her silly excuse for breakfast is haphazardly eaten as she strategically moves on stage. No matter how many rehearsals there’s been, she must go through her routine a couple times before showtime.

The buzz in the air is different this time around. She’s been on tour before but on the smaller scale, so this massive tour is already proving to be more electrifying. As she walks the streets of New York, everything is drenched in anticipation. Many people come up to her for pictures and indulge her when she asks for food and shopping recommendations. It seems that everyone is just waiting around for her show to start and there’s nothing more ego boosting than that.

As Lyla is getting dressed and her hair and makeup done, her phone ringing interrupts the music blasting through the speakers. The ringing doesn’t fall on deaf ears, but she’s too distracted with everything going on that she isn’t able to get to her phone before it goes to voicemail. The girl doesn’t fret, she can always call back after her concert.

Lyla is welcomed with a roaring crowd and thundering applause, fueling her with more confidence as she steps up to her mic. Moving through her calculated steps, Lyla grows more into the role of a pop star with the first three songs that pass.

“Hello, beautiful people. If you didn’t know, I’m Lyla Blair and thank you for coming to the Fallen Star Tour. This has been a long time coming. I’ve also met many new people along the way, some who’ve even inspired some of my recent songs. This is one of my favorite songs yet. Sing along if you know the words,” Lyla speaks into her microphone, waiting for the lights to dim and for the opening of ‘Think Later,’ to begin.

Chills envelope the pop star’s body as her sold out crowd sing the words back to her. It’s enough to erase the fact that the most important person in her life isn’t there singing along.

“So, how many of you come from a different city or state?” Lyla asks after another couple of songs, smiling gratefully when the audience yells.

“How many of you have recently found yourselves in a budding relationship? I know I have,” she giggles and explodes with laughter after the crowds starts groaning.

“I’m sorry guys. I’m actually in a relationship -don’t tell anyone, it’s our secret-“ the girl giggles as if the crowd weren’t privy to her and her boyfriend. “And I am a ball of emotions because of that. It’s honestly like I’m feeling everything for the first time, so I appreciate your moans and groans. This last song is about knowing your worth, this is ‘Greedy,’” Lyla takes the crowd into the last section of the show.

The high from the show finally starts to seep into her bones during her last dance number. She watches the crowd scream with dazzling eyes. She knows that soon they’ll be recreating her dances and that fact alone makes her giddy.

“Thank you so much for coming out. I love you all, get home safely!” Lyla blows kisses to everyone before dashing off stage.

“LB, that was incredible! You’re such a star,” her tour manager praises her, bringing her into a big hug.

“I can’t feel my toes. I am filled with so much adrenaline right now, but thank you,” Lyla squeals and jumps up and down in the arms of one of her biggest supporters.

“You have 30 minutes to change and eat your dinner before we need to load up the bus. Get moving, LB. By the way, I’m really proud of you.”

Lyla smiles appreciatively.

Lyla runs off, quickly shedding her clothes and replacing it with shorts and a hoodie. Her dinner goes by just as fast, not even getting to taste the food. Packing and loading the bus is just as exhausting, if not more, than her performance. She wouldn’t let the crew do it by themselves, though.

About two hours later, Lyla throws herself onto her bed and lets the rolling wheels take her into a deep sleep. Her first day of tour is filled with too much excitement that the longing for Jeremy is barely present. His few texts and one call remain unanswered as everything else clouds her head.

-

The third day on tour is just as exciting and wonderful as the first. There’s a lot less exploring as the toll of late nights and early mornings wear Lyla down, but knowing she’ll be on stage later helps.

The girls’ phone rings, waking her up from her pre-rehearsal nap.

“Hello,” she rasps, rubbing at her eyes and letting out a silent yawn.

“Hey, Ly,” Jeremy’s voice reaches her ears, making her quickly pop up in bed.

“Jeremy. Hi.”

“You busy? I called you a couple days ago, but when you didn’t answer, I just figured you were occupied,” he says, voice almost completely stoic.

“I’m so sorry. I meant to call back once I saw that it was your call that I missed, but I just crashed after getting back on the bus,” she explains with a guilty lilt to her tone.

Lyla honestly meant to call him back, or at least respond to his text. The day quite literally vanished before her eyes with the hours passing within seconds. She hates herself a little for forgetting about her boyfriend, but she did warn him that she’d most likely be quiet until she had more than one ounce of free time.

“It’s fine, Lyla. Did you just wake up?” He’s dejected, Lyla can hear it in his voice.

She can picture him sulking and feeling solemn with his shoulders sagging and eyebrows dipped in a frown. She’d be the exact same way if it weren’t for all the distractions.

“Yeah, I was taking a nap. I have rehearsal and soundcheck in like 20 minutes. I also think I’m catching a small cold,” she groans especially when she realizes that she can’t have a full conversation with him.

“Oh okay. I’ll let you go. Have a good show,” he says and then click.

Lyla throws herself back into the too soft mattress, tears blurring her eyes as her heart sinks into the depths of her chest. She doesn’t want to lose Jeremy, but it already feels like she is.

Soundcheck is repetitive and not enough to take her mind off things. The pop star tries to lose herself in the endless outfit choices and the different color combinations for her makeup look. It’s more successful, but reality still has a faint grip on her. Good thing there’s a helpful suppressant for that and it’s her singing her heart out to thousands of people.

While Lyla steps onto the stage, ready to start her night, Jeremy ends his night in Maine.

Maine is special to Jeremy and he’ll always be attached to it as it holds some of his fondest memories. However this time around, he wishes he wasn’t there. The hockey player craves Lyla‘s touch and scent. She’s only been gone for a few days, but her absence is haunting. This must be how she feels when he goes on long roadies during the season.

Jeremy isn’t used to feeling unfulfilled, so the unanswered texts and calls bruised something inside of him. Not to mention things already being weird before Lyla set off for her first stop. He knows why he felt off, but he’s not sure why she portrayed the same feeling. He really hopes his mood didn’t affect her, because he doesn’t want it to mess up her concentration. If there’s one thing he understands, it’s hard work. He’s seen Lyla rehearse a couple times, but it’s enough to know she takes it very seriously. He just wants to hold her and tell her he loves her.

The Alaskan can’t believe he hasn’t told her about his feelings. It’s obvious they’re both in like with each other, but now it’s much deeper. He’s so in love with the girl and it’s been tough having to hold it in. The most troubling is when she wakes up in his arms, naked body cuddled up to his and her eyes captivating the sun, making them turn into the prettiest crystals. There are times she welcomes him into her home with soft kisses and warm hugs that remind him of just how perfectly she fits next to him. Those moments make it the hardest for him to hide his love. He wishes he could’ve been man enough to tell her, maybe things wouldn’t be so risky.

It’s a lot of hopes, wishes, and regrets for someone who goes to bed, swallowing his emotions and waiting for things to change on their own.

It’s unfortunate that this time it’s Lyla’s texts and calls that roll in, but go unheard.

-

Day five is a stark contrast compared to the start of the week. The blistering sun in Texas welcomes Lyla with a ferocity she hasn’t missed since she left. Her head weighs a thousand pounds and nothing seems to be able to settle the swirlng she feels in her stomach. It’s as if she went on a drunken bender the night before.

“Hey, LB. It’s time for you to film your ad,” her manager’s voice pierces through her ears, making her head throb even more.

“Um… which one?” Her words are almost silent and her fingertips are glued to her temples. She tries to focus on taking deep breaths.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” Her manager asks, putting a hand to Lyla’s forehead.

“No, I’m fine. I think the sun is getting to me. That or the houston air; you know I don’t like being here,” she murmurs.

“Okay. You better let me know if you start feeling worse. I don’t need you passing out on stage. Film the ad and then we need to get you ready for soundcheck.”

The singer nods her head and pulls herself together, mentally preparing for her Texas trip.

On the east coast, Jeremy sits pouting while he watches Lyla’s instagram story. Her eyes sparkle and her smile is so gentle. It hurts seeing her so happy when he knows he isn’t the cause of it. He knows it makes him an asshole to think it, but he just wishes he’d be on the other end of her grin. They haven’t talked in days and it’s killing him. The selfish part of him wishes that it was also killing her.

He goes about his day: going to the gym, doing some training, and going grocery shopping. His Airbnb is awfully dull, clearly lacking the life it’d be full of if Lyla were by his side. Realistically, Jeremy knows he has no reason to be mad. This is Lyla’s career. She’s meant to be traveling the world and singing her heart out. Maybe things would be different if she had invited him to tag along. He debates contacting her, typing and erasing different messages before deciding to just leave her alone. Lyla is busy and he doesn’t want to distract her, or hurt his own feelings when his texts inevitably go unanswered. He’ll just go back to watching her little diary on Instagram.

-

“I’m so excited for tonight. I can’t wait to see yall out there. I would also love to see yalls outfits, so definitely tag me in all your pictures!” Lyla says, smiling at the camera in her phone.

She’s quick to toss her phone to the side and pace around her green room. Her stomach continues to flip and turn. Her eyes glaze over once again (it’s been happening all day as the nausea comes and goes) and her skin starts to go pale. Her saliva thickens and before she knows it, she’s hauling ass to the bathroom.

“Lyla! Lyla, shit. I thought you said you weren’t feeling bad,” her manager blurts out before pulling her hair into a makeshift pony.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Lyla cries, her head hanging in the toilet bowl as she throws up from intense nerves or a weakening immune system

“Do what? Tour or Miss Jeremy?”

At the mention of her boyfriend, she starts to cry harder.

“I don’t know. Both!” She shrieks, eyes widening when she starts to think about canceling the tour that she very much wants to continue.

“No, I can do the tour. I just- I miss him so much,” she adds in between hiccups.

“Why don’t you call him? I know you’ve been missing and not returning his calls. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know how to talk to him without breaking down. I feel pathetic just thinking about it.”

“You’re obviously hurting yourself more by not talking to him. Just talk to him, LB. It’ll help you feel better. I know Houston is a rough stop, but you’ll get through it.”

After the small pep talk, Lyla cleans herself up, and spends her last 30 minutes to relax before taking the stage. It isn’t really relaxing, though. She just thinks about all the ways she can express herself to Jeremy without sobbing the whole time.

Let’s just say the performance she gave that night was one of her best. She could be an actress with how well she painted the smile on her face.

-

The next two days are hell. The nausea has subsided, but the sadness lingers like a terrible hangover. The Austin show was just as spectacular as the Houston one. The only thing making this tour worthwhile is the smiles on her fans’ faces and the way they sing her lyrics back to her.

Right now she’s on the last song of her last show in Texas. Relief wanders around the forefront of her mind, but she’d like to be out of the state before she actually relishes in it.

As the lyrics of her hit song “Think Later” float out of her mouth, tears dare to gather in her eyes. Even though it’s her favorite song and everyone sings along with her, she can’t help but feel lonely. The song was written about Jeremy and their little rendezvous around Boston before people even knew they were dating. Hell, all of her recent songs are written about the Boston goalie.

Power through and finish off strong. She repeats it over and over until she believes that she’s capable of doing so. 30 minutes later she’s packing up her belongings and loading up the tour bus. She robotically moves through her nighttime routine, saying an appreciative goodnight to everyone on the bus.

Lyla lies on her bed, welcoming the coolness her untouched blankets bring her. She tries to shut her eyes and let sleep take her under, but her mind is running too rampant to let that happen. Deciding to abandon the idea of sleep, she pulls out her lyric book. For some reason a pulse of inspiration unfurled within her, and she’d be damned if she let it go to waste.

“And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line”

The pen moves a mile a minute, the thoughts drifting from her mind onto the paper. She’s plagued with the memories of when she met Jeremy for the first time. It was magical and something Lyla never wants to forget. His smile instantly became her favorite. She remembers the gleam in his eyes and the way his beard covered jaw moved with each smooth word he spoke. It was also the fastest she ever returned someone’s flirting.

Since the second they made eye contact, she knew she had to have him even if it was just a taste. She only hoped that she could have him forever. She’d do anything to keep him in her life. Apparently those attempts are turning futile as he continues to slip through her fingers.

“If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

I’m the wind in our free-flowing sails

And the liquor in our cocktails”

Lyla doesn’t even realize she’s crying until her pen breaks through the wet paper. She did everything right to make sure Jeremy stayed in her life. She’s so lucky that he’s still waiting for her- at least she hopes he’s still waiting. The girl knows she’s being a shitty girlfriend, because what girlfriend ignores her boyfriend when they have a weird, semi-rough patch? She should be fighting, but all her fight took the first one-way flight out of her mind.

The guilt nags at her, making her aching hands pull at her hair. Sobs force their way up her throat, but not before she can smother them with her palm. Her phone stares at her, tempting her to pick it up and dial his number. Temptation wins this round, probably for the better.

“Jeremy,” Lyla whispers into the phone after hearing the other line pick up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” she cries. Her disrupted breathing and the cracks in her voice send distress signals to the man. He’s never heard her so broken before. He’s not really sure how to handle it over the phone.

“What’re you sorry for?” He asks, sleep laced in his voice which makes Lyla feel worse for calling him so distraught in the middle of the night.

“Everything? I miss you, and I’m writing this song about us and… I miss you so much, J,” she explains, but her words keep getting caught in between snuffles.

“I miss you, baby,” he says and it allows the girl to catch her breath.

“When I left, things were weird. I don’t want anything weird between us.”

“There’s so much I want to tell you right now, Lucky. I miss you like crazy,” he choked out, tears suddenly springing in his eyes.

Lucky. Hearing him say her adored nickname repairs some of the fragile cracks in her heart.

“This isn’t a conversation to have on the phone is it?” She asks, afraid that she’s correct. The last thing she wants is to leave things unsaid.

“We need to be face-to-face. Where are you? I’ll fly out to you.”

Her shoulders fall in disappointment although she more than understands why they need to discuss things in person.

“I’m still in Texas, but I should be in California by tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the address,” she whispers, nerves creeping up on her. The last thing she needs is Jeremy telling her that he won’t be able to fly to California, even though deep down she knows he’d do anything for her.

“Okay, baby. I’ll see you in California,” he says before they both exchange goodbyes and hang up.

-

Lyla moves around with an extra pep in her step. Pre-show preparations go by fast and she finally enjoys soundcheck. Jeremy should be arriving any minute and that fact alone makes her want to jump for joy.

The whole time she was getting dolled up, she could hardly contain her anxious wiggles. She hopes she can see him before the show, so she isn’t a jumping bean on stage. Not that it’d be anything different compared to her usual lively stage presence.

“LB, 2 minutes before showtime. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling better! I was hoping that Jeremy would get in before I go out, but I guess I’ll just have to wait,” she hums.

“Maybe not,” her manager grins and turns her around to see her awaited guest.

Lyla noticeably lights up, running straight to her boyfriend and jumping in his open arms.

“Oh my god! You’re here,” she squeals and takes in the scent of his cologne.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else. I missed you so much,” Jeremy sighs and pushes his face into the crook of her neck.

Every stress, every ache, and wave of nausea suddenly leaves her body. The pop star’s hands touch and feel her boyfriend, making sure he’s really in her hold. The warmth of his skin seeps into her bones, setting her senses alight in a furious blaze.

The goalie brings his face out of her neck, connecting his gaze with hers. Their earthy eyes bore into each other, slowly tethering them closer and closer. They wait with bated breath for each other to make the next move. Their lips brush and noses nudge into each other.

“LB, it’s time for you to get on stage!”

With a heavy sigh, Lyla pulls back. She peers over her shoulder, eyes pleading with anyone to grant her an extra 5 minutes. No one grants her that wish.

“Go. I’ll make sure it’s better when you get back in my arms,” Jeremy assures her, thumbing at her jawline and flashing his signature smirk at her.

“Fine. It better be breathtaking, though,” she warns before moving away completely.

“Wait,” Jeremy stops her, reaching to catch her hand and spin her back into his chest. Their lips crash in a passionate mess of interrupting smiles and giddy laughter.

“I couldn’t wait, sorry. Go kill it out there, Lucky. I’ll be here, cheering you on,” he hums, lips still ghosting over hers and his beard tickling her heated skin.

The “I love you,” sits on his tongue, dying, waiting for Jeremy to give the power for it to be voiced. He decides now isn’t the time, though.

The show passes by in a blur of stollen glances with Jeremy, who’s watching side stage, and a heaping amount of happiness swimming through her body. Finally, Lyla has a genuinely great time living her dream. Hopefully her audience isn’t able to tell the difference in her body language during this show and the previous ones. She can sell her fake happiness, but she’s not confident that someone won’t realize it’s an act.

The second the stage lights dim and the curtain closes, the pop star is running off the stage. Her earpiece is ripped out hastily and her eyes search frantically for her boyfriend.

“You were absolutely amazing. I can’t even describe how ethereal you looked out there,” Jeremy says from behind the girl. His hands find her waist, gliding along the exposed skin to wrap around her completely.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she whimpers, turning around to face him. Her face finds the crook of his neck and her lips place the softest kisses to the skin.

“Let me get changed and pack up all of my things, then we can finally talk on the bus,” she says and pulls him to follow her.

-

“So this is the famous tour bus,” Lyla hums as she gives Jeremy another tour of the now decorated and lived in tour bus.

“It’s actually pretty cozy.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad. Now let’s go to my bedroom. It’s private.”

When they get to the confined space, Jeremy roams around, looking at the random pictures and decor that decorate the tiny walls.

The girl watches him carefully as she contemplates how to bring up the elephant in the room. No matter how much she wants to avoid their problems.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, leaning her forehead on the center of his back. She grips at his sweater, keeping him close.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you for so long. I- I was mad and then I was just scared, but I never should’ve ignored you the way I did,” Lyla sobs, using her boyfriend’s sweater to turn him towards her.

“I just assumed that you’d spend the offseason with me and travel with me, so when you said you were going to Maine and then home I got hurt. I thought maybe you needed space and then I realized how sad it made me and how I didn’t want to be without you. All those feelings scared the hell out of me,” she rambles, grasping onto any part of him just in case he pulls away.

“I got scared, too. I wanted to invite you with me to Alaska. I almost did, but I couldn’t help but feel like you deserved more,” Jeremy says.

Lyla snaps back, eyes flashing with confusion.

“What?”

“You’re used to a fast paced life filled with glamorous things. I can’t provide that for you in Alaska. Alaska is somewhere I can step out of being a hockey player and live a simpler life for a month or two. There’s nothing to offer you there. I also didn’t know if it’d be too soon to introduce you to my family and I didn’t want to scare you away,” he explains as tears spring to his eyes.

“No, no, no,” Lyla rushes, grasping at his face with shaking hands. She places her forehead on his, softly moving to nose at his cheek and jawline. Anything to show him that his worries hold no weight. She hates that she can feel how his body shudders with his hysteria.

“I don’t care about any of that. Yes, I love expensive things and I enjoy my fast paced life. I have always been that way, but I don’t care if Alaska isn’t flashy. Sometimes it’s good to change things up,” she soothes some of his worries. The girl wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes so it’s easier to meet his gaze.

“I guess we just miscommunicated a bit,” Jeremy groans.

“Not just a bit, babe. A whole lot.”

“For what it’s worth, I would’ve loved to travel with you. I really enjoyed seeing you on stage,” the goalie sighs, carding a hand through her hair and bringing her head to rest against his chest.

“I can stay for the last few shows before your break?” The suggestion sets Lyla’s heart on fire.

“I’d love for you to stay, but you have to take me with you to Alaska,” she counters with a smug smile.

“Deal,” he grins before bringing her in for a kiss.

“Let’s lay down. I’m so exhausted and I could really use some cuddles right now.”

They fall onto the bed in a heap of limbs, tangling together until they’re settled comfortably.

“So… I wrote a song about us. I was thinking about the whole situation and it just poured out of me and onto the paper,” Lyla mumbles nervously, bringing out the folded paper with the lyrics written down.

Jeremy takes his time reading them, eyes flitting from the paper to his girlfriend every now and then.

He didn’t know what to expect, but it sure wasn’t his heart cracking in his chest. Her words are vulnerable and heartbreakingly execute the way she felt. She felt like she had to plan her words, her actions. If she hadn’t, then Jeremy would’ve never been intercepted.

“I hate that this is how you felt, because I felt like I was the one carefully plotting everything. You’re this star and I wanted you so bad, I couldn’t risk losing you. And it’s funny, because you’ve always had my attention. You never had to make calculated moves, you were and are always on the forefront of my mind,” he declares, scooping her into his chest.

“I love you,” Lyla breathes out, finally getting it off her chest. The girl stares at him wide eyed, heart thundering in her chest. Her body vibrates with nerves as she awaits his response.

“I love you, so much.” It’s said softly as his lips ghost hers. After a second of letting everything settle, they lock lips. With each inhale of each other’s breath, the more handsy they become. With a rather breathy sigh from Lyla, Jeremy flicks his tongue against hers. His fingers dig into her supple skin, leaving small indents in their wake.

“Say it again,” she requests, hands traveling underneath his shirt and up his back.

“I love you, baby,” he rasps into her jaw between teasing nibbles and sultry suckles.

Lyla cackles, locking her legs around his hips and rolling into their newfound bliss. She’s so in love and there’s nothing that can get in the way of her and Jeremy.

a/n: I have been writing this piece for a year which is embarrassingly long, but I didn’t want to rush this fic. This is an important part of Lyla and Jeremy’s story. It all started with a nonnie who said Taylor Swift’s “Mastermind” reminded them of this pairing. Ever since then I knew I just had to write this. I hope you all enjoy it🫶

[puckingeccedentesiast]

I've been thinking and I want to add to my au list sooo which one do you want to see first :)

they will all come out eventually but i don't know which one to do first :D

[senditcolton]

22 fics. 28 blurbs & headcanons. 48 moodboards. 35 edits.

Total Word Count: 106,531 Total Notes: 4,156

This was a crazy year. I definitely didn't accomplish all that I had planned for but I'm very proud of what I did create. I mean: the conclusion of "we're a bad idea", two moodboard album series, my first time opening requests, an entire social media series... it was a wild and wonderful year. Thank you to everyone who accompanied me on the way, cheered me on, and even created things for me specifically! I can't wait to keep writing and creating for you all next year!

Full Year Breakdown Below!

KEY spice - * smut - *** OC fic - + AU fic - !

January run for the hills (we're a bad idea series) [Matt Martin] * Praise You Like I Should [Matthew Tkachuk] *** I'm Still Glad I Met You [Nico Hischier] + *

Februrary I'm Still Glad I Met You (epilogue) [Nico Hischier] + * Valentine's Day Prompts [various players] + *

March Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess Moodboards [various players] I Hope I Never Lose You (KOMH series) [Andrei Svechnikov] !

April "Call My Bluff, Call You Babe" [Tyson Jost] + - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 Health and Happiness Celebration {various players]

May Hits Different (we're a bad idea series) [Matt Martin] ***

July Storm Warning (Twisters 2024) [Tyler Owens x Kate Carter] *** Stick Season Moodboards [various players]

August ...but you're going to [Leon Draisaitl] + * I'm Not Sentimental [Matt Martin] ! *** Short 'n Sweet Moodboards [various players]

September Hope It Never Ends (CMBCYB series) [Tyson Jost] + The Alchemy (we're a bad idea series) [Matt Martin]

October Finally, Finally, Finally [William Nylander] ***

November So Tragic and Rare [Andrei Svechnikov] + ***

December Can This Be a Real Thing? Can It? [Jeremy Swayman] + ! Youthfully Felt [Sidney Crosby] + It Would've Been Sweet... [Joel Edmundson]

A Special Thanks to All My Beautiful Amazing Friends!! @wyattjohnston @laurenairay @comphy-and-cozy @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @fallinallincurls @thewintersoldierdisaster @cellythefloshie @tkachvkmatthew @matthewtkachuk @kurlyteuvo @texanstarslove @m00nlightdelights @provokedgoalie @jostystyles @cowboybarzy @thomasschabot (and if you don't see your name here, doesn't matter because i love you just as much!!!)

[bagopucks]

Out Of Place - Marner

Trigger Warning(s): talk of suicide, smoking, underage drinking, angst, bullying, fighting, heartbreak, manipulation, loss, and action.

Pairing: Mitch Marner x Fem!Gretzky!Oc

Official name: Maeve Gretzky, credits to

@jorjie-nhl for the name!

Summary: He was supposed to graduate a football player, but the plan changed, and now he’s a struggling athlete on a hockey team that can’t stand him. Back at square one for the first time in six years. Lost, but eventually found.

She’s a stable athlete who has a full ride to a D1 college. She has friends and he isn’t one of them. That is, until she shoulders how much of a pain he is, and decides to help teach him to play. Then all of a sudden, he doesn’t seem so bad. Satisfied, but inevitably yearning.

—————————————

“You all keep cryin about how he’s a football player! I don’t give a shit! I’m over it! He plays hockey now. He is your brother now!”

“Why’d you quit?”

“I couldn’t do it any more. My mom pulled me out.”

“I heard he made that kid kill himself…”

“Mitch. He wants you back.”

“What? No.”

“He said he won’t let it go until you talk.”

“Let’s go for a run!”

“A run, Marner? In the woods? With my good shoes on?”

“What? Afraid you can’t keep up, Gretz?”

“He’ll learn.”

“Oh dude.. look at this kid. You new here or what? You can’t skate with the peewee team.”

“Oh boy.. after the wipeout he just took, these kids might skate circles around him.”

—————————————Cast

Freshman are irrelevant to this story.

The Team

Sophmores

Jack Hughes

Akira Schmid, JV goalie

Trevor Zegras

Cole Caufield

Jamie Drysdale

Brady Tkachuk

Juniors

Mitch Marner

Matthew Tkachuk

Nico Hischier

Cale Makar

Jeremy Swayman, third string goalie

Quinn Hughes

Seniors

Leon Draisaitl

Connor McDavid, alternate

Andrei Vasilevskiy, second string goalie

David Pastrnak

Kasperi Kapanen

Matt Murray, vet goalie

Jacob Trouba, captain

Nathan MacKinnon, alternate

Hampus Lindholm

Matt Dumba

Darnell Nurse

The Coaching Staff

Wayne Gretzky, head coach

Mike Sullivan, assistant coach

Lindy Ruff, shift/power play coach

Pekka Rinne, goalie coach

The Supporting Cast

Auston Matthews, junior!football QB

Jordan Binnington, suspended junior goalie

Various other NHL players

Mario Lemieux, president of the hockey club

Gary Bettman, school sports director

Two comedic peewee coaches

Along with a few more surprises

[drewsbuzzcut]

Jeremy With A View

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A Masterminds fic

Warnings: smut!!!

Takes place during 23-24 offseason

Jeremy watches Lyla as she’s perched on his lap, soft legs straddling his strong ones. She’s donned in a silky, skimpy pajama set. The thin strap slides down one of her shoulders and she works it further down, slipping out of it. His fingers touch her hand and eventually takeover. He gently undresses his girlfriend, hungry eyes drinking in each slice of her bare skin that he uncovers. The sun seeps in through the window and casts her in an ethereal glow. A chill rolls through her body, making her shiver and reach out to his shoulders. She lets out a hesitant giggle as she scoots closer to him.

“I think I’m a little nervous,” the girl admits, distractingly tracing random patterns on his skin.

Lyla feels kind of silly about it. It’s not like they’ve never had sex before. There’s just something about the way they’re moving so slowly and intimately that makes this time different. It’s the first time they’re going to truly make love to each other, and it excites her and scares her all at once.

“Don’t be. It’s just me,” his words wrap around her in tandem with his hands. He leans forward and presses soft kisses to her neck and chest, savoring the thrum he feels running through her.

Lyla nods and waits for his next move, breath stuttering in her chest. Jeremy wraps a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her into a kiss as he flips them over.

“I love you,” she breathes out after separating from his mouth. The girl is still on cloud nine after finally telling her boyfriend the L word and hearing it back.

He leans down a bit, appreciating her boobs and littering them with kisses and swift licks to her nipples. A airy sigh crawls up her throat and her body jolts in response.

“I love you.” He smiles so happily it takes her breath away. “My heart is pounding,” he adds.

To calm himself, he sets his forehead on hers. Lyla sets her hand over his heart, smiling at the way it thunders for her, because of her.

The goalie lets his lips ghost her skin in a trail to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and igniting everything on fire.

“I want you,” Lyla says in a breathy gasp.

Jeremy sheds his pajama pants and peels her shorts off. He hovers over her body, a hand pumping his erection and the other dipping into the arousal between his girlfriend’s legs.

“Look at you, baby. You’re making a mess on my hand,” Jeremy groans, bringing some of her wetness up to her clit.

“Oh my god.” She squirms and shifts her hips, slowly grinding against his hand.

He lines himself up with her heat, but doesn’t give her what they both want. Instead he lets his length slide through her slippery folds. His hands grip her bucking hips and he has to clench his eyes shut in concentration, so that he doesn’t explode before he can even feel her around him.

“Jeremy, please,” the girl begs and pulls him closer.

“I know. I know,” he mutters into her cheek, finally thrusting inside of her.

“Fuc-“ Jeremy swallows Lyla’s moan, his tongue caressing hers as he sheathes himself deep inside of her pussy.

He grabs onto her wrists and presses them down into an area of the bed above her head. Electricity creeps up his spine, feeling the way she flutters around him as her wet walls adjust to his size.

Flitting her eyes up from where they connect, she stares into Jeremy’s earthy pupils. They’re a shade darker due to Lyla’s doe eyes and how her swollen lips part as she pants.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck, you’re so wet. Who are you wet for, Ly?” He grunts against her jaw, nipping at her skin to retrieve more of her squeaky moans.

“You. Only you, baby,” Lyla sighs as the vibration in her body starts to make itself known. She can feel the muscles in her body start to tingle and tighten the more her orgasm starts to build. She wants to shut her eyes and focus on the lust curling around them, but she’s too enamored by her boyfriend’s sweaty chest and flexed biceps. Don’t even get her started on the gold chain he has around his neck. It dangles in her face tauntingly, just daring her to tug on it.

A particular snap of the goalie’s hips sends the tip of his cock straight to her soft spot.

“Oh,” Lyla cries out, body arching off the bed. Her hardened nipples graze across his chest and something about the sensation makes him lose control. Her hands slip away from under Jeremy’s palms and fly to his broad shoulders, baby pink nails sinking into his skin. Everything slowly melts away, all the outside noise becoming static and her vision growing fuzzy.

Eventually he lowers her body back onto the plush mattress. Jeremy’s hands are warm and comforting around her torso. His forehead finds hers, keeping her grounded and steady.

“You like that, Lucky? Does it feel good?” The words are spoken sweetly, but Lyla can feel the heat behind them. She easily bends to its will.

“So good. I want more,” she pleads, legs squeezing around his waist, her pussy purposely squeezing down on his length.

Jeremy slows his tempo, teasingly working his way in and out of her. His thrusts are languid but deep, stroking her sensitive walls until she’s quivering.

“I can feel you clenching down on me. Cum, baby. Cum for me,” the hockey player whispers, lips against the shell of her ear.

“Oh my god,” Lyla whimpers, her body going rigid. Fire rushes through her veins, her body releasing its tight coil as her orgasm washes over her. She tightly wraps her arms around her boyfriend’s upper back, needing to feel his skin melding to hers.

“Holy fuck,” Jeremy groans, his face finding the hot flesh of her neck as he continues to rock into her. His lips attack her racing pulse, sucking the skin and letting his tongue soothe the area. The feeling of his girlfriend’s heat contracting around him makes his eyesight go white. He can feel every single pulse around his cock and her arousal slipping down his shaft, triggering his own orgasm.

“Shit,” he groans, cock jerking almost wildly, filling his girl with his release.

“I love you. I love you,” the girl chants like it’s some kind of prayer, lips finding his in her post-coital bliss.

“I love you,” he hums into her mouth. The goalie brings a large paw to her neck, thumbing at her throat before cupping the side of her face.

“You’re perfect,” Jeremy whispers, leaning back up and letting his nose nudge into hers to elicit a sweet hum.

“Says you.” Lyla palms at the red blush covering his skin, the heat sinking into her bones.

“Thank you for being here. It means the world to me for you to experience my hometown.” Lyla pouts at his vulnerability and she just has to kiss it away.

“Thank you for wanting me here. This place is so magical. I don’t think you understand just how much I love it already,” she says, staring out the window at all the trees and mountains painting the Alaskan skyline.

“It’s your home just as much as it is mine, if you’ll have it.” Jeremy speaks so simply, so genuine. Lyla wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I want nothing less,” the girl voices, flipping them over and settling into her boyfriend’s warm chest.

a/n: Not sure how I feel about this, but I do hope y’all enjoy! There’s more Lyla and Jeremy in Alaska in store…

[drewsbuzzcut]

The Masterminds Masterlist (Jeremy Swayman au)

Series warnings: angst, miscommunication, cheating rumors, mentions alcoholism, mentions toxic households, pregnancy, smut, alcohol consumption,

Check out the lyla x jeremy tag for more!

About Lyla Blair

Series Masterlist:

First Weeks:

The Touch Of A Hand Lit The Fuse

Started With A Spark, Now We’re On Fire

This Feeling Is Deeply Profound

You’re The One

2-5 Months

Vogue Beauty Secrets

Big Boy And The Hot Tub

May 4

Mastermind

Wag Era

6-11 Months

Your Touch

Boston Forever?

Perfect All American Tits

Santa Baby

1 Year

Miss Possessive

I Know You Want My Touch For Life

[drewsbuzzcut]

Miss Possessive

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A masterminds fic

Warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, some jealousy, Lyla being a little mean (we love her for it though) This fic is based off “Miss Possessive” by Tate McRae that I think would be a song Lyla writes. Orange text are lyrics and bolded/italicized are flashbacks

Takes place: Feb 2025

Lyla writes so hard in her journal, the lead tip of her pencil is on the verge of snapping. The silent recording studio is a perfect incubator for her aggressive inspiration.

“Baby blues undressing him

Funny how you think that I don’t notice it

Acting like we’re friends, we’re the opposite

I know what you are, trying so hard

Running ‘round tryna fuck a star”

There’s something wickedly fierce in Lyla’s eyes, fueled by the two double shots of tequila swimming in her system. If looks could kill, the blue eyed girl would be on the floor. The singer has had enough of the way these random ass girls keep coming up to her and Jeremy, not only interrupting their time together, but practically undressing her man with their eyes.

“Look at the floor, or ceiling

Or anyone else you’re feeling

Take home whoever walks in

Just keep your eyes off him

And yes, I’m miss possessive

Pretty girl gon learn your lesson”

Lyla cannot listen to one more word of how these girls were so thrilled by Jeremy’s performance during today’s game. It’d be different if they complimented him and walked away, but they linger like a bad headache. Persistent and annoying. There are so many people that they could fawn over. Why did it have to be Jeremy? It’s not like she could make them walk away either, not when so many Bruins fans are around and can spin this into a nightmare.

The pop star is usually calm and collected, but these wannabe, star fuckers are getting on her last nerve. Not even her boyfriend’s large hand on her waist can soothe the fire boiling inside of her.

“Maybe we should exchange phone numbers,” one of the girls says, shadowing everyone in a shocking silence.

The lid on Lyla’s boiling pot shoots off, allowing the emotions to take over.

“Maybe you and your friends should get the hell away from us before I knock you on your ass,” Lyla suggests with a sarcastic smile, tilting her head in faux niceness.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“A nobody? All I know is that if you keep running your mouth and trying to touch my man, I will make sure you’re never allowed in this fucking bar ever again. Leave,” the singer levels the group of girls with a scarily calm demeanor, but they don’t know she’s ready to throw a punch if one of them goes at her.

Jeremy’s eyes haven’t left his girlfriend since he felt her body deflate with a silent huff. The words spewed by the other women go in one ear and out the other. And now, he stares at Lyla like she just hung every star in outer space.

“Fuck, I love you,” he leans down to whisper in her ear, teeth nipping at her lobe. His hands glide down the sides of her body, landing on her ass and catching the eyes of the other hungry individuals.

With a scoff, they finally realize their chances with Jeremy were always in the negative and walk away.

“I know,” Lyla hums, pulling on the collar of his button up and tugging him into a rough, wet kiss.

The sound of the studio door opening and closing makes the girl fizzle out of her thoughts. An irritating heat swelters her body, making her wish she could shed off her already small, booty shorts and sports bra. She turns from where she’s laying on her stomach on the leather couch to see her man. He must’ve been tired of waiting for her to finish up and decided to just come over, knowing she is by herself.

“Hey, lucky,” Jeremy sighs, dropping a kiss to her exposed spine.

Her usually soft, green eyes fix him with a dark, steely glare. That same jealousy from before starts to boil in her veins, again.

If he notices her displeasure, he ignores it, choosing to sit down next to her legs.

“What’re you writing about?”

Should she, or should she not mention it? Fuck it, Lyla is feeling feisty.

“That blonde, blue-eyed bitch and her group of morally corrupt friends that were hitting on you the other day,” she hums nonchalantly, but her attitude is clear as day to Jeremy.

“Why do you care?” The singer continues, knowing she’s being snippy about people who mean absolutely nothing to the goalie.

Jeremy can’t fight the cocky smirk lifting his lips. He can’t help the fact that his jealous girlfriend is kind of a major turn on. He digs the heat that grows in her eyes and the way she stares at him like she’s ready for him to take her and mark her as his, and only his.

“Don’t be bratty,” Jeremy coaxes, slapping a large hand down on Lyla’s ass with a loud smack.

A soft gasp falls from her lips and lust starts to pool in her underwear.

“Don’t be cocky,” she huffs in return.

“I can’t help that I love how jealous you get, especially when you have no reason to be.” Jeremy’s fingers trail up to the waistband of her tiny shorts, snapping it against her skin until she squirms.

Of course he loves her reaction. Lyla knows it all too well. It’s precisely why she decided to act more bothered than she really is. Yes, she’s possessive, but it’s not in a toxic way.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” she sasses with an eye roll.

“Sure I am,” he hums, finally pulling off the material covering her bottom half.

The girl fights the urge to moan, biting on her tongue and holding her breath until everything is too much. She waits for her boyfriend’s next move with an intense impatience, pricking at each of her senses. It almost pushes her to flip his script and get him in her mouth, but he moves before she can. His large paws knead at the round globes of her butt, his thumb rubs teasingly close to her heat.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me,” Jeremy moans, hands spreading her cheeks apart and watching her slick, puffy folds separate.

“Touch me,” Lyla whines, taking a glance at him over her shoulder. The goalie’s eyes are much darker and he licks at his bottom lip like he’s a man starved. It makes goosebumps attack her heated skin.

“Baby, touch me,” she pleads, wiggling her hips enticingly. Her journal falls to the ground with her movements, becoming forgotten in the most obscene way.

Jeremy lowers himself so he’s level with her core, eyeing the way her arousal slowly drips from her fluttering hole. His tongue laps it up, eliciting a saccharine moan on his behalf. It vibrates against Lyla’s most sensitive parts, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and grip the leather couch.

“Oh my god,” she shrieks, panting and withering away from the man as his tongue dips into her pussy.

“You like it, lucky? You want more?” He asks questions he knows she won’t be able to answer, but he’s satisfied with her small squeal after his thumb circles her clit.

“More, J. Give me more!”

Jeremy coats two of his fingers in her wetness, teasing her opening before plunging in.

“You going to cum for me? I can feel you clenching around my fingers,” he growls, fingertips pressing down into her g-spot.

“I’m going to cum. Oh my god, baby!”

Her body starts to burn, fire blazing through each of her veins. A tight knot forms in her belly, keeping her on edge and her body ultra sensitive.

His free hand presses against her lower stomach as his sheathed fingers continue to fuck into her.

“Don’t stop,” Lyla cries, body already trembling.

Jeremy pulls his fingers out, silencing Lyla’s groans of protest with another smack to her ass. He loops his arms under the tops of her thighs, lifting her sex up and closer to him and moving her to grind against his face.

The erotic moans that escape the girl’s mouth should be conspired more heavenly than any music that can be produced in this studio. If only he could have it on his phone. Maybe they can record something just for them and store it on a private file.

“Fuck.” Jeremy wraps his lips around her bud, taking turns between sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it.

He doesn’t do it for long as Lyla comes undone on his face. Her body trembles as the knot in her stomach explodes, pushing her into the abyss. He collects her release on his tongue to help her through the aftershocks, simultaneously loving the way she continues to long for him.

“Stop. Stop,” she softly mutters, pulling away from him after her body goes limp. Her boyfriend is quick to listen to her words.

With tingling limbs, she flips over on her back. Her chest heaves and her cheeks are flushed a fiery red color. Her eyes finally focus on Jeremy’s face, his beard glistens with the remnants of her orgasm. His lips are slick and swollen. It fuels her with pride and even more lust.

“Come here,” she sighs, crooking a finger at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, settling over her. His face finds her neck and his hands push at her sports bra.

“Mhmm. Perfect,” she responds, lifting her arms for him to take off her bra. She desperately needs her bare skin against his body.

“Are you still jealous?”

“N-no,” her words fail as his lips peck and wrap around the flesh of her boobs.

“Good.” It’s Jeremy’s turn to sigh, loving the fragile pull on his curls from Lyla’s dainty hands.

She cups his face, bringing his lips down on hers. Her limbs wrap around him, feeling his hard cock behind his sweatpants. The kiss becomes so intense, they both start to pant against each other. It only spurs them on to explore each other’s mouths with their tongues. The taste of herself on him drives her crazy, driving her to rub against him in a sizzling need.

“You’re booked here for the whole night?” He wonders against her lips, already pulling off his clothes.

“Yes.” Everything after that quickly fades away as they begin to relish in a much more strenuous activity.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Santa Baby

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

Masterminds blurb

Warnings: none!

Takes place: Christmas Day 2024

Jeremy walks down the hall, appreciating every single piece of Christmas decor that Lyla dresses her home with. The beginning chords of “Santa Baby” play and take him straight to his girlfriend. Lyla is sat at the piano, wrapped in a sheet from her bed. He laughs because she could’ve just put on his shirt that was tossed to the floor last night.

“Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good girl,” Lyla’s melodic voice draws him closer to her. Her dark hair cascades over her bare shoulders in perfects waves.

“Sounds beautiful,” Jeremy interrupted, making the girl turn to him with a shy smile. She isn’t quite used to singing in front of him- on purpose.

“Thank you,” she hums and falls back into his chest when he sits behind her on the wooden bench. The warmth of his pale skin seeps into her bones, warning her to the core.

“Santa baby, a 54’ Convertible too, light blue. I’ll wait up for you, dear. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,” she sings, now fighting an electric chill zipping up her spine from the way Jeremy massages the tender skin of her shoulders.

Her vocal cords dare to tremble at the touch of her boyfriend’s large hands. Her fingers almost slip from the black and white keys, but she pushes through. The girl forces her attention to the window, witnessing the white Christmas they’re lucky to have. She definitely wouldn’t experience snow like this in Houston.

“Think of all the fun I’ve missed.”

Jeremy’s hand smoothly slides up her neck to her cheek, turning her face towards him. She inhales deeply, feeling everything start to slow down and fade away.

“Think of all the fellas I haven’t kissed,” Lyla hums while expertly playing the piano without even looking. Her green eyes stare into the lustful whirlpools in his own. A hand wraps softly around her neck and Jeremy leans in, brushing his lips against hers. Her heart thunders and her hands leave the keys in favor of touching his beard. She presses her forehead to his, breathy sighs lingering between them.

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

Lyla closes the distance, wrapping her arms around his neck and fully turning her body into his. He hums delightfully into her mouth, falling under her spell until he crashes onto the floor with the girl on top of him.

They burst into giggles not even caring about the bruises they might have from falling off the piano bench.

“Merry Christmas, J,” Lyla mutters and kisses him once more.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Jeremy says back, rolling them over so he can press a kiss to every inch of her body.

a/n: Completely unedited and written super quickly, so sorry about that! Happy Holidays babes🫶 I love and appreciate yall so much

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Know You Want My Touch For Life

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A masterminds fic

Warnings: smut

Lyla gives herself a once-over in the mirror in the ensuite. Her once curled hair has set into the softest waves and her makeup is done to perfection. All she needs is a spritz of her favorite perfume and a swipe of lipstick before she’s all good to go. Her and Jeremy are having brunch with his sister to announce their recent engagement. The mere thought of getting married to Jeremy makes the girl squirm around, dying to just jump and run around in joy.

Jeremy grins as he leans against the doorframe, admiring his fiancée and her noticeable glow. He can’t help but drink her in, especially when she’s donned in a pretty, white sundress that she paired with white heels- ones that still won’t make her as tall as him.

“Damn,” Jeremy makes himself known.

“What?” Lyla catches his eyes in their reflection, fixing him with a playful glare.

“Just damn,” he sighs, crowding her into the counter. He noses at her hair as he can’t get enough of her.

“Like what you see?” She jests and presses her backside into his groin.

“Love it.” His large hands wrap around her body and smooth down the fabric of her dress.

A soft moan passes Lyla’s lips when Jeremy takes a slice of her smooth skin in his mouth, sucking on the flesh.

“Uh I love you. Jeremy, you better not leave any marks, because I don’t want your family knowing that I let you maul me like an animal,” the girl gasps and pushes away from him before her clothes suddenly disappear.

Back in the master bedroom, she searches around the room for her clutch and phone. Before she can get far, Jeremy paws at her hips and bends her forward on the corner of their bed.

“I love you,” Jeremy whispers in her ear, voice husky and hot on her skin. Although the warmth still spreads chills down her body.

His fingers ghost the sides of her thighs. With one foot, he nudges her legs apart and elicits a raspy moan from deep in her chest. Bunching up the sides of her dress, Jeremy lifts it up over her hips. His eyes dip down, admiring and salivating at Lyla’s white lace thong. Specifically one he hasn’t seen before.

“Is this new, baby?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. He’s seen every pair of silky, lacy, and skimpy underwear his fiancée owns.

“Yes,” Lyla whimpers as he rubs his thumb over her covered folds.

“I like them,” he hums, pushing the fabric to the side and swiping through her wetness. He thumbs over her slick folds before spreading her open and so gently blowing on the sensitive skin.

Lyla falls forward, body already feeling light so she grips the bed sheets tightly. A soft moan falls from her lips when he thrusts two of his long fingers inside of her.

“You’re so wet for me.” The tips of his fingers press into her sweet spot.

“Only for you, big boy,” she purrs.

He continues to pump his fingers in and out. Every now and then his thumb will find her clit, massaging the bud until her legs start to shake.

“You’re dripping down my hand, baby. I love when you make a mess on me,” he says with a soft bite to her thigh.

For easier access, Jeremy scoots her body further up the bed. He raises her hips and lets his tongue collect her arousal from her fluttering hole.

“Holy fuck. More. Please more, babe,” Lyla cries, her sweet sounds muffled by the sheets.

He dives deep into her heat, tongue thrusting inside of her and then circling her clit. He makes out with her pussy, grunts and moans leave his mouth and vibrate through her core. If only Lyla could see his face when he pulls away for a moment. His mustache is drenched with her wetness, his lips are red and puffy, and his eyes are glazed over. He looks like a living orgasm and Lyla would combust if she just caught one glance at him.

Lyla’s legs tremble, dying to clench together to control the movement. Jeremy doesn’t let that happen, though. He pries them apart with one hand while the other is too busy thrusting his fingers back into her.

“Oh my god! I’m going to cum,” she shrieks, her pretty lipstick smearing into the bed sheets as she bites down on the fabric.

“Is that so?” It’s a tease, the singer knows it is. She can feel the way she throbs and constricts around his fingers. He knows damn well she’s about to explode. She can practically see the smirk on his face, too.

“Please make me cum!” The beg rips from her throat.

Jeremy presses his fingers into her sweet spot, his lips finding her clit to suck it back into his mouth. His actions are slow but calculated, knowing that it’ll quickly make her fall apart.

“Fuck,” she cries and her knees fall under her weight.

She squirms on the bed, hands grabbing onto anything that will ground her while her body thrums in ecstasy. Jeremy softly kisses the backs of her thighs all the way up to the small of her back. His hands follow suit and gently caress her in order to control the quivering.

Finally, Lyla flips over onto her back and gets a look at her fiancé. His chest heaves just as hers and his lips are the prettiest shade of a glimmering pink. Without a word she lunges at him, hands clutching onto his strong shoulders while her lips encase his. He’s quick to let his hands fall to her waist, his body falling back onto the bed. The girl nibbles on his lip, making him gasp and the perfect chance for her tongue to flick around his mouth. Eventually his tongue thrusts in between her lips, and Lyla lustfully whines when she gets the taste of herself off him.

“We’re going to be so late,” Lyla whispers through her labored breathing. Her forehead is pressed to his while she not so subtly grinds her hips on his thigh. If she accidentally leaves a wet patch on his shorts, that’s no one’s concern.

She places her head against Jeremy’s chest, laughing when he laughs at her words. He lifts her left hand and kisses the rock on her ring finger, appreciating the growth of lust that has infiltrated their lives since upgrading their couple status.

a/n: Enjoy some Lyla and Sway smut! This is set in the future. I’m not sure when, but I’ll make sure to add it to this post once I figure it out

[drewsbuzzcut]

Big Boy And The Hot Tub

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ small fic

Warnings: slightly alluded to sex, some kissing and I think that’s all (this was quickly written and slightly edited sorry)

Takes place during the 2024 offseason

“What, big boy?” Lyla cocks an eyebrow up at Jeremy as he slowly makes his way over to her.

They’re inside a hot tub, enjoying the warm water and the bubbles that surround them. Originally Jeremy was seated across from Lyla, but soon his hands come in contact with her thighs as he opens up her legs and fits his hips between them. He delicately guides her legs to wrap around his waist as he has multiple times before.

Despite the warm water pooling around their bodies, Lyla feels goosebumps unleash all over her the moment she’s touched by her boyfriend. A harsh shiver rips through her body, moving her closer to him. Her bikini clad breast press against his bare chest and her arms loop around his neck, fingers finding their way in his hair.

“I love you,” he nudges his nose against hers, crowding her space but it’s no big deal to her. If crawling under your lover’s skin was a thing, Jeremy would be doing it.

“I love you,” she says with a lovesick grin, eyes sparkling and hands cupping his face. Her nails scratch at his beard, further allowing him to relax. Lyla leans back and closes her eyes, trying not to become distracted by the butterflies roaring in her tummy.

His face goes into the crook of her neck, wiggling around to tickle her with his beard. She lets out a small shriek, body withering against his, but she doesn’t dare try to pull away. No, his warmth is the best comfort she’s ever come to know.

“Jeremy,” he laughs, full bellied, in sync with her pounding heart.

“I love your little giggle,” he kisses her irritated skin, feeling overwhelmed with pride when she melts into him. He’s the only one who can get that reaction out of her.

“You’re the only one who can make me giggle like that,” she peers into his eyes, something a lot like lust and adoration swimming in her orbs. A smug smirk flashes over his face. Of course he's the only one.

They let the water lap at them, drowning in a comfortable silence and the low tune of the music flowing through the speaker. She looks down, a single finger dotting the random moles on his arms. She knows Jeremy like the back of her hand, so she really didn’t have to look where she’s touching him. Another smile flips her lips up, so amazed and excited that she’s getting to experience the love of her life’s hometown.

Alaska is Lyla’s new favorite place on earth. Everything has been sweeter and more convincing that Jeremy is her person. She knows that she’ll be thinking of this trip for the rest of her life.

“Today was fun, baby. I enjoyed learning how to fish,” Lyla whispers and caresses his head as he nuzzles into her.

He’s nosing at the side of her face, the tip of his nose stroking her cheek to elicit another round of giggles from her. His lips ghost around her jaw and leave faint kisses on the skin.

Jeremy only hums in response. He’s too busy pawing at her exposed form. The scent of her sweet perfume still resides on the dip of her collarbone -where she spritzed it this morning- and it keeps him grounded.

“I can’t believe you grew up here. It’s so beautiful,” Lyla awes, looking over Jeremy’s shoulder at the breathtaking view.

She’s met with the smacking noises of his lips repeatedly pecking her cheek. She smiles cheekily, a red flush dusting her features.

“Oh my gosh! I cannot wait for tomorrow. Your family is so sweet, so I am very much looking forward to spending some time with them,” the girl gasps, body popping up in excitement and her eyes growing wide. Jeremy continues to hold her to him, a grin painting on his face. He absolutely loves the tiny bikini Lyla chose to wear, just for him. Her breasts bounce with her movement, pulling him under hypnosis.

She’s met with more kisses being delivered below her ear. Her heart flutters at his endless display of affection, although she isn’t sure what spurred it on. Not that she’s complaining.

“I’m,” a kiss is pressed to her chest. “So happy,” a kiss is pressed to her neck. “You’re here,” a kiss is pressed to her jaw. “With me,” Jeremy finishes his prolonged sentence with a mind tingling kiss to Lyla’s lips.

Her eyebrows rise in delight, eyes closing in utter bliss. Her body feels on fire from the inside out, and it’s not due to the temperature of the water.

Her hands glide over his shoulders, her anchor so she won’t float away. His tongue pushes into her mouth, wrapping around her own. He sets his hand on her throat, keeping her pressed to him as he consumes her.

Despite initiating the heated lip lock, Jeremy is the first to pull away with a tug of Lyla’s bottom lip gripped between his teeth. A small whimper escapes her, her hands connecting behind his neck to pull him into another kiss. Using her upper body strength, she pushes him back to the other side of the tub and straddles his lap. Her fingers grip his curls and she pulls his head back, tongue devouring his mouth.

“I love you, my beautiful girl,” he says into their kiss.

His eyes are a shade darker, but he looks so enticing- especially with the way his hair is disheveled and lips are puffy.

“I love you, big boy. Thank you for having me here. It’s really lovely,” she whispers, her eyes crinkling up with her big smile. Lyla doesn’t think she’ll ever stop smiling and she’s perfectly fine with that, because when she looks at herself in the mirror, she’ll be able to recall each beautiful memory that lies within her smile lines.

Their moment of contentment and sharing a loving gaze is interrupted by Jeremy lifting both their bodies out of the water. Lyla goes over his shoulder with a loud smack delivered to her ass. Her low moan fuels a deep hunger in the pit of her hockey player boyfriend’s stomach. A hunger that they’re about to indulge in. Lyla really loves Alaska.

a/n: Enjoy this little idea I had in my head!!

[drewsbuzzcut]

Your Touch Brought Forth An Incandescent Glow

(or the many ways Jeremy touches Lyla)

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ fic

Warnings: smut, mentions being naked, and I think that’s all

“Oh my god! Don’t stop, J,” Lyla moans, sultry and whiny.

White, hot heat blankets Lyla’s body as Jeremy continues to thrust into her. They’re both perched on their knees, Jeremy’s chest to her back. His warm, large hands are splayed out over her breasts, squeezing the supple flesh as his hips continue to rock into her.

“You like that, baby?” He whispers hotly against the shell of her ear, a shiver wracks through her body.

“Yes,” she chants, throwing her arms behind her to loop around his neck, fusing their bodies into one. Her fingers clench the strands of his hair, using it as an anchor.

She throws her ass back, sinking further down on his cock. Their bodies move like a wave of powerful pleasure. The husky lilt of his voice, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, sets her every nerve ending alight.

“Don’t stop. Just like that baby,” her body trembles just as her walls contract around his shaft.

His hands move from Lyla’s breast, one to her throat and the other down to her pussy. He pulls her head back, hand tighter around her throat -which unleashes a whimper from her vocal cords- and takes her lips between his. The coarse hairs of his beard scratch against the soft skin of her face, and it makes her thrust her tongue down his throat- practically swallowing him whole. His finger catches onto her clit, stroking it delicately until their kisses become open mouthed and Lyla can’t hold back her panting anymore.

“You’re my good girl,” his teeth nipped at her bottom lip, drawing more moans from his girl.

“Yours. Only yours,” Lyla squeaks, orgasming around him.

Fire courses through her body, all of her thoughts become singed. She’s left in a haze, whimpering as he paints her walls.

“I love you,” he whispers into her mouth, working her through her release.

“I love you.”

————————————————————————

Lyla waits patiently outside of the locker room. To anyone, she’d seem relaxed, but on the inside Lyla is running around screaming. She cannot wait to see Jeremy who just had an amazing game. He’s such a natural out there and Lyla is so proud of him.

“Ly!” She hears and her head snaps up. She runs straight into his arms, cheeks heating up at the way he hoists her body up with his big, strong muscles. Memories of him pinning her arms down as he fucks into her flash through her mind. She feels like she just took a dip in the sun and she feels her wetness start to pool in her lace underwear. Don’t even get her started on the way his hands are pressed to her ass to keep her up. It reminds her of the way he spreads her open when she’s taking him from behind.

After a deep breath she wills those thoughts away. Now’s not the time.

“Hi, my big boy. You played amazing! I can’t believe I get to watch you and I get to go home with you. I love you,” Lyla rambles, eyes wide and hands glued to his cheeks as she talks with such excitement.

The girl’s enthusiasm sets off hoards of butterflies in Jeremy’s stomach. They flutter nonstop, even when she’s not around Lyla because he’s always thinking about her either way.

“I’m happy you’re here. I love you,” he sets her back on her feet, arms wrapping around her waist and bringing her into his chest. She fits perfectly there.

“Kiss me,” Lyla jumps up, body unable to stay still. Her arms loop around his neck, keeping him close. Her body tingles and a small squeal falls from her mouth when he nudges his nose against hers. It’s a tease, but Jeremy loves the way Lyla grips onto his suit jacket.

With a small smirk, he’s leaning down and taking her lips in his. His large hands press into the small of her back, making a chill roll up her spine. A breathy sigh is mingled between their mouths, the air around the couple becoming blanketed with desire. Zaps of electricity flow through Lyla’s fingertips and sear in Jeremy’s skin.

“We should head home. This jersey is begging to be on the floor,” he whispers into their kiss, eyes darkened and lidded. Lyla lets out a shuddering breath as her heart pounds in her chest.

“You think so?” She teases with her head tilted and bottom lip between her teeth.

“Hell yeah.”

Grabbing onto his hand, Lyla pulls him to his car in a silent answer.

————————————————————————

The pounding bass and loud cheers from the crowd reverberate against Lyla’s body. She’s perfectly nestled in Jeremy’s arms, her back pressed tightly to his warm chest. His large hands grip onto her hips, swaying his body along with hers.

Times like these are rare with both of their lives always being busy. Even though there are a ton of people around the pair, they’re in their own world.

Jeremy leans more into Lyla when he hears her softly singing the song that the band is playing. Each lyric that passes the seam of her lips takes on a new meaning and they seem to map out their lives together.

Lyla turns in his hold, face nuzzling into his chest and takes in the smell of his cologne and the way it mixes with his sweat. She loves it; it’s reminiscent of all the times he’d come back from a morning workout and kiss her awake.

His hand travels to the back of her neck, a finger caressing her skin and it makes her shiver. She reaches out to cup the back of his neck, green eyes looking up and boring into his. Lyla continues to sing except now she’s singing to the love of her life.

Her soft, serene voice a siren call to his ears. It’s alluring and all he wants to do is hear it. All he wants to do is inject the sound into his veins and feel the vibration of her voice.

“I love you,” she leans up on her tiptoes and whispers her words of affection into his mouth.

Jeremy’s lips attach to hers in a bruising passion. Everything around them seems to stop. Her entire world is pressed against her lips, something with so much power has never felt so tangible. It almost knocks Lyla off her feet.

“I love you, baby,” he smiles down at her, his thumb pressing into her dimple which makes it pop out even more.

She grabs his arm, turning back around and pulling him tight around her. There’s nothing like someone who makes you feel at home no matter where you are.

————————————————————————

The lavender scented bubbles lap at the couple seated in the porcelain bathtub. Jeremy has his arms perched on the edge and Lyla is sitting between his legs, confined by his muscles.

Many candles light up the room and soft jazz music fills the comfortable silence. There are times when Lyla nor Jeremy can keep quiet, but tonight calls for a calmness that can only be achieved through lingering touches and longing stares.

Jeremy’s eyes travel the expanse of Lyla’s back, taking in each freckle that paints her skin and the delicate cursive of the tattoo inked into the back of her shoulder. “Swayman,” is as perfect marking her as it is being said next to her first name. A finger comes up, gathering each freckle into their own constellation before tracing each letter of her tattoo. Goosebumps pepper her skin, making Jeremy wrap an arm around her stomach and pull her closer.

Lyla is immediately melting into his warmth. There’s nothing like it, and she’ll never deny a cuddle from her man- especially if he’s fully naked. It’s so much better.

The hockey player noses at her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo and body wash. His large hand gently grips her throat, tilting the girl’s head back and slotting his lips between hers. Their tongues curl around each other and raspy breaths are shared.

With a sultry whine Lyla flips over, chest pressing into his, and brings his lips back down on hers. He sucks on her tongue, hands gripping onto her hips as she straddles his waist. He scoots her further up his torso, so his lips can easily wander down the hollow of her neck.

“I love you,” she hums, fingers carding through his hair.

“I love you,” he whispers, hands dipping down into the water to squeeze at her ass.

Lyla smirks at him and Jeremy reciprocates it with a cocky wink, pulling her to lay her head on his chest. The familiar beat of his heart lulls her deeper into relaxation. She very much enjoys being touched by her big boy.

a/n: So I really enjoyed writing this even though it took me like almost a month to finish😭😭 I hope y’all enjoy as well!!