#jeremy swayman x oc

[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]

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

Wag Era

6-11 Months

Your Touch

Boston Forever?

Perfect All American Tits

1 Year

I Know You Want My Touch For Life

[thedevilrisen]

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

[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

[comphy-and-cozy]

Note: I try to tag triggers as bet I can, but ultimately you as the reader are responsible for your own media consumption. If any of my content bothers you, please do not continue reading. If I am missing a tag, please feel free to shoot me a message. * = smut (18+ ONLY)! players I do not write for | tv/movie masterlist | eras tour masterlist

ANDREI SVECHNIKOV - full masterlist here

ANTHONY BEAUVILLIER

One Night Standards (Anthony Beauvillier x country star!OC) - 9K Country music sensation and Nashville sweetheart Harper Mitchell just got out of a very public, very messy breakup. She doesn't want a relationship, and, fortunately for her, Anthony Beauvillier won't be around long enough to start one. All of the makings of a perfect arrangement... right?

I Almost Do (Anthony Beauvillier x OFC) - 2.4K They say you never forget your first love, and Amelie and Anthony still cross each other's mind years after their breakup.

BRADY SKJEI

Adore You (Brady Skjei x POC fem!OC) - 8.3K Freshly shipped from New York, Brady is new to the city of Raleigh and the Carolina Hurricanes. While he’s learning the city, he meets someone that just might change his life forever. Four times Brady thought he loved her, and one time he actually did.

The After Party* (Andrei Svechnikov x Reader x Brady Skjei) - 6.3K When your new fling Andrei invites you to his joint birthday party, you’re surprised to learn that it’s a past flame who shares his birthday. And surely a double birthday calls for a double celebration — even if that means that you are the gift. The After Party II* (Andrei Svechnikov x Reader x Brady Skjei) - 6.3K A year after your illicit tryst with your current fling and your ex-fling, you meet again.

Blurbs ✿Midnight Rain* ✿Picnic in the Park

BROCK BOESER

You Got What I Need (Brock Boeser x Reader) - 5.5K When Brock says something horrible in the midst of an argument, you take off and leave him alone to face the consequences of his actions. Will he be able to win you back, or are you gone forever? Chronicling the aftermath of a fight, featuring big brother Anders Lee.

Blurbs ✿A Jealous Distraction ✿Secrets ✿"Send. Pic. Of. Dog. Now."

CHRIS KREIDER

✿“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” ✿"I'm pregnant." ✿"Why would I stop when it gets me what I want?"*

CONNOR MCDAVID

Work For It* (Connor McDavid x Reader) - 4.2K After a road trip, Connor is determined to show you how much he missed you, but only if you work for it.

GABE LANDESKOG

✿Date Night at the Drive-In* ✿Blood Drive ✿Mystery Machine

JEREMY SWAYMAN

Blurbs ✿"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view." / "I won't bite, unless you're into that sort of thing."

JT COMPHER - full masterlist here

MAT BARZAL

Love It If We Made It* (Mat Barzal x OFC) - 9.3K Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

down bad* (Mat Barzal x OFC) - 5.2K Mat takes a late night booty call to the next level.

MATT MARTIN

Chaptered Fics/Series Sugar Daddy Marty Masterlist (Matt Martin x sugar baby!Reader)

MIKKO RANTANEN

Bad for Business* (Mikko Rantanen x Reader) - 4.2K Mikko has a crush on his massage therapist.

Bad for Business II* (Mikko Rantanen x Reader) - 2.5K Mikko learns to accept that his teammates are your clients, too.

MITCH MARNER

✿“My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

NOLAN PATRICK

✿“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.” / “Take my jacket, it’s cold” ✿Cheek kisses

TYSON JOST

Third Time’s the Charm* (Tyson Jost x plus sized!Reader) - 11.1K Tyson Jost has been your best friend since you were kids. After a drunken hookup, you thought you’d lost him forever - that is, until he gets traded to the Minnesota Wild, conveniently the city in which you now reside. Will the former flame return when you reunite, or has the time changed everything forever?

A Night in Paris* (JT Compher x Reader x Tyson Jost) - 10.6K Anything can happen on a Friday night at the Hard Deck. When you run into some old friends in search of a night to remember, you just might end up getting exactly what you wished for.

Playing Pretend (Tyson Jost x OFC) - 9.8K When Delaney Taylor needs a date to her family reunion, Tyson Jost volunteers his services. As they navigate their fake relationship, the line between what’s real and what isn’t begins to blur. Blurbs ✿“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” / “You’re pretty.” “You’re drunk.” ✿Wedding Day ✿Jost Family Reunion ✿Disaster Strikes ✿Trade Angst ✿"It feels like torture but I don't want it to stop."* ✿Pre-Wedding Festivities

[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!!

[hockeyboysimagines]

So far from the Stars

Chapter 3

Warnings:Language, angst, smut, mentions of bars/alcohol.

Hi all! Hope you enjoy this.

If you haven’t please give a read to @cellythefloshie and I collaboration fic we’ve been working on I’ve loved you three summers -Cool for the summer.

Enjoy!

Sometimes Jeremy wondered just how he found himself in these types of situations.

Was it by design?

Was it punishment?

Was it because his life just sucked?

All three he decided. He’d never been more disgusted than he was right this very minute and he was sure that was being reflected on his face.

The night had been great.

Better than great actually.

Drinks were flowing, the group was having a great time, and Courtney was tucked into his side in a booth at their favorite bar. Though he was still upset about what had happened he was mostly just happy to be hanging out with her again. It was shaping up to be a great night and he had a tiny bit of hope that if she wasn’t too intoxicated by the end of the night, just maybe he could make another move. She’d only had one drink and hadn’t gotten a second. She was sitting closer to him than normal, head resting on his shoulder at one point and he felt like he was on top of the world.

So when he’d left her out of the booth to go to the bathroom he hadn’t expected what was about to happen. Veronica slapped his arm and leaned forward with a wide smile.

“You guys look cozy.” She hummed at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. The others were also looking at him interestedly. That gave him some hope. If they noticed it, then he wasn’t imagining it. He sometimes wondered if maybe he took her being friendly as something else, when really he was just giving himself false hope. But this time others were noticing it too.

He couldn’t help but smile and also leaned over towards her “I have no clue what you’re talking about-“ but didn’t get to finish his sentence before a voice interrupted him.

“Uhm-guys.”

They both turned along with the rest of the group to see Justin frowning. They followed his gaze to find that on her way back from the bathroom she had been intercepted by Brad.

Their eyes all swiveled towards Jeremy as they watched them speak. Courtney looked uncomfortable as she took a step back from him nodding at whatever he was saying and for a minute she was blocked from view until she made her way around him and back to where they were sitting. She looked upset as she approached, a small piece of paper in her hand. Brad was watching as she made her way back, and looked over her shoulder to find them all glaring at him, eyes narrowing when he spotted Jeremy on the end of the table being the only one looking at Courtney.

“What the fuck is he doing here? And what is that?” Justin asked pointing at the paper in her hand.

“He just moved back.” Kasey said, glancing at Veronica who made eyes back, and cleared her throat.

“It’s his- number.” She tossed it on the table “No thanks though.” Even though it had been years, that betrayal still hurt her and it was written all over her face.

“When did he move back? I didn’t know he was back here again did you?” Justin asked Veronica.

“Kasey ran into him the other day, but he- Jeremy? Are you okay?” She asked knocking on the table and then glancing at Courtney.

Jeremy had never been more mad. It was beyond mad. This was rage.

He felt a white hot heat creep up him from his toes to his face, burning up his neck, feeling like he was about to explode. He stared at the paper for a second before his eyes moved slowly up to find her staring at him.

“Hey are you-“

He stood up, knocking over a bottle, causing the others to look at him startled, and cleared his throat “I need some air.”

He made his way out of the bar, taking large steps and burst through the door, the night air hitting his face, cool against his hot skin. Thankfully no one was outside as he let out a loud frustrated “UGH!” Into the night air. He wanted to scream, cry and punch something or someone, Brad preferably, but he didn’t do any of those things because he was in public.

The first two would have to wait till he got home, and the third one he could only hope he’d get the chance at one day.

He couldn’t do this to himself anymore. He just couldn’t. He was at the end of his rope and he’d finally had enough. Even though she’d said she didn’t want his number, he had still once again ruined a time when things with them were going good. Who did he think he was talking to her after what he’d done? He had half a mind to turn right back around and beat the hell out of him for even thinking about her.

He heard the door to the bar open, and footsteps behind him but he didn’t care. Whoever it was would just witness the breakdown he was about to have and it was what it was.

But then he heard his name.

“Jeremy.”

It was Courtney. And because it was her he realized that did care. She was some feet behind him and he quickened his pace. He’d never wanted to get away from her before until now.

“Jeremy!” She called again, closer to him now.

“JEREMY!”

Finally he stopped and whipped around to find her right behind him “What?”

She flinched at his tone and he felt bad. He’d never spoken to her that way and he didn’t want to now, but he was so mad he could barely see straight and it was his own fault.

“Did-did I do something?” She looked confused.

“No you didn’t. It’s something I did. To myself and I should have stopped doing it ages ago.”

“I-what? What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath “ Last weekend you kissed me and I-“

“What?” She frowned, eyes moving around trying to think.

“That-that night we went to the bar. We came back to your house and you kissed me.” He finished quietly, looking at his feet.

“I don’t-“

“Remember yeah I know.” He said, hands in his pockets. He thought that it would feel good to get it off his chest, but if anything it made him feel worse.

“I don’t-Jeremy I-“ her eyes got a little glassy and she reached for his hand, pulling it from his pocket and gripping it “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault. I should-I should have told you how I felt years ago but instead I’ve been too afraid of what might happen if I did. That’s on me. I don’t wanna talk about this I wanna go home.” He made to pull his hand from hers but she didn’t let go. He turned and looked at her annoyed.

“Wait a minute.” She was frowning now “I’m sorry I don’t remember, but you never told me how you felt. That’s not my fault.”

He shook his head “I never said it was-“

“You didn’t have to. If you had told me-“

“What?” He said once again attempting to tug his hand from hers but she held on tighter “Would it have changed anything?”

“I don’t know. I mean maybe-“

“No it wouldn’t have and you know it.”

She raised her eyebrows “No I don’t know it. And how the hell was I supposed to know all this? You had girlfriends, and hookups, and you wanna give me a hard time for not wanting to be with you?” Now she looked angry and he didn’t blame her. He knew he was being dumb, that all of that wasn’t her fault but it didn’t make him any less mad about it. He couldn’t be any more mad at himself than he already was so he would be mad at her.

“Didn’t I make it obvious?”

“No no no. I’m not a mind reader. If you wanted me to know you should have and could have told me, not kept it to yourself just to use it against me later.”

He shook his head “That’s not-“

“Yes it is. That’s exactly what you’re doing and you know it.”

He glanced down at her hand, fingers tightly gripping his and then back up at her with a frown “I don’t wanna fight with you. Please let go of my hand.”

She frowned deeper and shook her head “No.”

“Courtney-“ he said exasperatedly. He just wanted to leave and go be mad in his own house where no one could judge him or tell him he was being stupid.

“I said-No.” She took a step closer to him, tugging his hand to pull him closer until she was eye level with his chin and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” He looked everywhere but at her, knowing that as soon as he did he wouldn’t be mad, and even though he was 100% wrong he didn’t want to admit it.

“Look at me.”

He huffed and stiffened as he felt her tug at his hand again to get his attention and when he didn’t look she reached up suddenly and grabbed him by the chin. He was startled, eyes locking on hers. She stared at him for a second before she leaned forward pausing, eyes still on his.

Fuck it.

He moved the rest of the way, catching her mouth in a very heated kiss, hand coming to tangle in her hair. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. She felt a chill run up her spine that had nothing to do with the balmy weather and a feelings she’d never had settle in the pit of her stomach, as he wrapped one of his hands around the back of her neck. She was gripping his jacket as they stood kissing on the sidewalk for several seconds before they broke apart.

She looked at him for a second, the fabric of his shirt balled up in her fists before she said very quietly “Can we leave?”

He glanced behind her to find that their friends hadn’t come to investigate and nodded, hand still on the back of her neck.

“Come on.”

20 minutes later he was unlocking his front door and allowing her to walk past him to get inside. The minute she stepped over the threshold and the door closed the air in the room changed. He shut the foot behind him and locked it, following her as she began to step forward.

He was so nervous his hands were shaking and any of the confidence he had earlier outside the bar was gone now. He’d watched her walk through his house hundreds of times, but never to his bedroom. It was dark, and he left the light off, watching as she pulled the curtain open the tiniest bit to let in some of the light outside and turned to him.

He leaned against the door frame and watched as she pulled her jacket off, and draped it over the chair by the window, before she shook out her hair. She looked ethereal, half illuminated and motioned for him to come closer.

He made his way slowly across the room, half afraid she might suddenly change her mind, until he was nearly pressed up against her. He reached a hand forward to stroke her cheek, and tangled his fingers in her hair.

She was even more dazzling up close like this, and he got lost in her eyes for a second before he leaned down and pushed his lips sweetly up against hers. It was slower than it had been 20 minutes ago, and though he was nervous, he had gained some confidence now. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he pulled her closer by the waist, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of her sweater. He moved his hands down her waist to the small of her back, fingers moving over her cool skin where her shirt had ridden up and she gave a little shiver, as he pulled it up slowly and she raised her arms above her head. Her hair was tousled and messy around her back and shoulders, a deep blush across her cheeks. He watched as she sucked in a long breath, and pulled him back to her, hands reaching to pull his own shirt off.

He backed her up against his bed, sitting her down gently but she stopped him when he gave her a gentle nudge down. With shaking hands she reached forward and unbuckled his belt and then sprung the button on his jeans so he could step out of them, and then stood to undo her own.

He knelt between her legs and peeled them down, hands sliding down over the skin of her legs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Her entire body felt like a live wire as he pulled them over her feet. He leaned up and kissed her again, as they moved backwards together over the bed, and he situated himself between her legs. His skin felt warm against hers as he knotted a hand in her hair, fingers scratching against her scalp.

Her bra strap slipped off her shoulder and he gripped it with his fingers “Can I take this off?”

She leaned up and he unhooked it, pulling it off and tossing it to the side, before he glanced down between them. Wordlessly she lifted her hips so he could pull her underwear down her legs, and then tugged at the waistband of his boxers.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly from between her legs. He was looking at her like she’d hung the moon in the sky, and she reached up to run a hand through the longest part of his hair, and nodded with a small smile.

“I’m sure.”

He took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss her very slowly as he pushed inside of her. She sucked in a breath with a small gasp, eyes widening, and then sliding closed slowly before they opened and locked on his. His vision flipped sideways and got fuzzy for a second before she gave the skin on his arms a squeeze, bringing him back down to earth.

Her eyes were huge as she stared at him, never looking away as he pulled out of her and pushed back in. Her nails scraped against his skin as his head fell forward into the crook of her neck, forehead resting against her collarbone. A euphoria like she’d never experienced settled over her, as he ran a hand down her side, fingers gripping the skin of her hip. He picked his head up , lips moving across her neck and jaw until he found her mouth in the dark.

She was dizzy as he kissed her till she couldn’t breathe but she never wanted him to stop. His skin felt feverish under her fingers as she grazed them up his spine, a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his back as he moved above her. He was panting in her ear, forearm braced on the bed by her head.

“Courtney.” He breathed, but she silenced him by kissing him, a heat settling in her stomach that began to spread. She broke away from him for a second, breath coming out ragged as he began to push faster, hand resting at the base of her throat. She gripped his skin, nails sliding over the sweat as her legs started to shake and she began to orgasm.

It was beautiful to fall over the edge with him. He kissed her right through it, wrapping her up in his arms. She felt like she was levitating as his movement slowed and his weight pressed down on top of her. Her heart was beating loud, but slow, and mixed in with his as they laid there wrapped up in each other.

After a moment of silence when the breathing had slowed he picked up his head to look at her. He was smiling so sweetly at her she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you-okay?” He asked finally.

“I’m good. Are you?”

He nodded and cleared his throat, pulling out and laying next to her. He pulled the blanket up so she could cover her chest with with and settled in on his side next to her, eyes peering into her own.

“What?” She asked.

She looked so beautiful, messy hair, smudged liner, sheet pulled up in his bed, a place he never thought he’d see her. His emotions were running high and he could barely speak in full sentences but he managed a soft “Your beautiful.”

She smiled softly and reached forward to push a strand of hair off his forehead, before she scorched forward and pressed a very chaste kiss to his lips.

“Are you going to stay?”

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded and grinned, patting the bed and chuckling a little as she wriggled down under the blankets next to him. His eyes slid closed and his body got heavy but he waited until her own eyes closed. He wanted to touch her, hold her, pull her close but he laid there just watching her, wondering if this was a dream until his eyes got too heavy to keep open.

Courtney wasn’t sleeping.

She waited until she heard his breath even out and then opened her eyes to find him sleeping, lips slightly parted, one arms under his head and the other resting across his side.

She sat up and looked down at him, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the side of his face. He didn’t stir, and she eased off the bed, pulling her clothing on. She gave him one last look before she made her way quietly through the house and out the door.

The alcohol had worn off long ago, and the night air covered her up more than she already was. Her body felt like rubber as she slipped into her car and started it, backing out and pulling on to the street quickly so she could be gone in case he woke up.

Roads were empty, the occasional car passing her as she reached her house. Her legs felt heavy and she sat in her idling car for a moment before she slowly got out and made her way inside. Her house was quiet, just the creaking of the floor as she walked to her bedroom, leaving the lights off.

She sat on the end of her bed staring at the wall. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of the clock from her living room, and the owl that lived in the tree outside her window.

She felt bad leaving like that, and she knew when he woke up and she was gone he’d be upset. But she couldn’t stay there. She felt like she was suffocating and couldn’t believe what she had done. She absently pulled at the hole in the knee of her jeans and sniffled, eyes moving across the room to the picture she had of them.

She loved Jeremy with all her heart. She had always taken him and his friendship with her for granted, and now that she knew he’d felt this way about her for all those years she felt terrible. He had watched her with Brad and kept quiet because he wanted to make her happy. He’d do anything to make her happy. A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away.

Not only was she going to lose him but over something so stupid. He was the best person she knew, and she was hurting him every single day and even though she didn’t know it, her relationship with him felt tainted. Like she’d ruined it without even trying, because she didn’t deserve him. He was so kind, so sweet and too pure for someone like her who was so blinded by dating other guys, and a stupid high school boyfriend who never gave a shit about her that she couldn’t see Jeremy waiting there, heart in hand all these years.

That fact was staring her right in the face. She tipped over sideways and another tear ran down her nose. Her heart hurt, and her lungs felt like they were deflating as she started to cry. She was dizzy, and nauseated thinking of the end of Jeremy in her life.She had ruined this, just like everything else.

Across town,Jeremy turned over and made to wrap his arm around Courtney. Last night had been amazing, and his heart felt so full it could burst, but he paused when he felt the bed was empty and cold. He lifted his head and looked around.

It was early, the sun wasn’t quite rising yet, but it was light enough that he could see she wasn’t in the room. He threw the blanket off and stood. He didn’t want to panic. Maybe she was in the bathroom, getting water, in the living room.

“Courtney?” He called out as he walked through his house. When she didn’t answer, he looked out the front window to find her car was gone.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, like the puncture of an arrow that had been shot straight through his heart, and he let out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Courtney was gone.

Everything he had been afraid of had finally come true because he’d said his feelings out loud. Things why he’d kept it to himself all these years. Now she was gone, out of his house and his life maybe forever. He’d never been in more pain. He thought about calling, getting in his car and driving to her place but he couldn’t move. His feet may as well have been glued to the floor.

He braced a hand on the doorframe and squeezed his eyes shut.

What had he done?

[drewsbuzzcut]

Started With A Spark, Now We’re On Fire

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ blurb

warnings: mentions being at a bar and some kissing

takes place February 2024

“Sorry about the game. I really wish we would’ve won. I wish I played better,” Jeremy shouts over the music playing in the bar.

Lyla pouts at him. She feels bad that he feels bad. Although the bruins didn’t win, she’s still really happy to spend time with him. His eyes seem sad and she doesn’t like it one bit.

“Don’t feel bad. I promise it’s fine. There will be more games that I go to and you can secure a win for me. I’m just glad to be here with you,” her hand rests on his shoulder, so she can lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. She presses a kiss on his cheek, patting herself on the back when the disappointment in his eyes disappears.

Jeremy has to pause for a hot minute. The burning sensation of her lips still lingering on his skin and his brain starts to short circuit. He’s never been this close to heaven.

“Trust me, there’s no one I’d rather have here with me,” he assures her, hand reaching out to grasp hers.

“Good!”

“You look so beautiful. My jersey looks good on you,” Jeremy compliments, a hand wrapping around Lyla’s waist to pull her closer to him. Her hands splay out on his chest, fingers tapping him to the beat of the song that’s playing.

The material of the jersey scratches against her skin in a way that drives her senses crazy. They’re ultra sensitive and the way his jersey smells just like him makes her think it’s one he pulled right out of his closet.

“Of course it does. I make anything look good. It just so happens that ‘Swayman’ makes me appear ethereal,” she responds, letting her hand travel up to his hair, swirling a curl around her finger. She moves it back down to caress his bearded jaw, the coarse hairs suddenly feel like silk.

Jeremy bites down on his lip, so taken with her confidence. She has no idea just how much he yearns for her. The way her eyes sparkle in the low lighting as she looks up at him; how her lips look tempting, and how her hands on him feels too right, makes him shudder in both nerves and excitement. Who knew someone can be so captivating, stronger than gravity, really?

Her eyes really do it for him. They reel him in, keeping their grip tight on him, and set his soul alight. Fuck it, he thinks. Throwing all caution to the wind, he leans down and captures her lips.

Lyla lets out a low gasp, swallowed by his mouth. She wasn’t expecting to become this intoxicated from his lips alone. She wasn’t even expecting him to kiss her, but she quickly follows his lead. His beard softly scrapes against her chin, sending chills throughout her body. There’s nothing more invigorating than the way his mouth takes charge over hers. He’s claiming her, tasting her, and Lyla has no problem with it.

Jeremy is first to pull away, eyes still closed and hands still holding onto her. Lyla grips his shirt to ground herself as her head spins. His nose nudges at the skin of her cheek, making her laugh and effectively bringing her back from his kiss induced haze.

“Lyla?” He whispers so softly, the hairs on her body stand.

“Yes?”

“Let me take you on a date tomorrow,” he requests and places his forehead on hers.

“Okay,” it’s sultry and magical, her voice whispering in his ear.

She looks up and leans in for a kiss once more. There’s no way she’ll ever get enough. She’ll always be haunted by the tender, yet fervid, pressure of his lips on hers. Haunted by the feeling of his tongue exploring her mouth as if he’s been there before, but it’s a welcome ghost.

He presses a gentle hand on her throat, feeling the way her breath hitches when he sucks on her bottom lip.

“Do you kiss all the girls you ask on dates like that?” Lyla asks, pulling away to face him with red, swollen lips and wide eyes.

“There’s only you,” he silences her underlying worries.

a/n: Their first kiss! I really adore Lyla and Jeremy😭 I hope y’all enjoy!!

[drewsbuzzcut]

Vogue Beauty Secrets With Lyla Blair & Mystery Man

(aka Jeremy Swayman)

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ Fic

Warnings: none that I can think of (let me know if I missed any)

Takes place late April 2024

“Hi, I’m Lyla Blair and this is my guide to glowy skin and the perfect date night look!” Lyla introduces herself to the camera.

Her eyes flit to everything laid out on Jeremy’s ensuite countertop, patting herself on the back for not forgetting her skincare and makeup when she was hurriedly packing a bag for the weekend. She accidentally forgot that she had to film a beauty secrets video for Vogue, so she took the opportunity to film it before her date with Jeremy.

“I have fairly good skin. I mean don’t get me wrong, I get the sparse breakout every now and then- usually during my period, but I’d say my skin is pretty clear. My first step in my skincare routine is this Vanicream cleanser,” she showcases the bottle and pumps some of the liquid in her hand.

“It’s very light and when you lather it, it gets slightly foamy. I love it because my skin can be sensitive. I think it’s important to remember to treat your face delicately, so don’t harshly rub your face when you wash it.” The girl says, demonstrating her words.

“Babe, which watch should I wear?” Jeremy’s voice can be heard in the background, making Lyla hesitantly turn toward where he walks in. Her face is covered in suds and water drips down her arms. She tries to remain stoic to the camera, but on the inside she’s freaking out a little bit. Her relationship with Jeremy isn’t public, but this could very well launch them in the public eye.

“The silver one. It pairs well with the blue,” she says, turning back around as if she never looked away.

“Next up is a light serum! I like to use something with vitamin C to brighten up my skin, and basically even out my tone.”

She pats a small amount of the serum around her eyes, a small giggle bubbles up her throat at Jeremy purposely singing obnoxiously to one of her songs.

“Next up is moisturizer and sunscreen. I love sunscreen, especially as someone who grew up in Houston, Texas. Everyone knows it’s very hot and sunny down there. For moisturizer I use the vanicream brand, because it’s not too light nor too heavy and it’s not greasy at all,” Lyla explains, continuing working the products into her skin.

“Here you go, Ly,” Jeremy places a glass of ice water next to her, a glimpse of his arm being caught on camera.

Lyla can’t contain her emotions, not when her eyes soften and cheeks grow a light shade of red. Jeremy knows that she loves to have a glass of water while getting ready. It can be getting ready for the day, an outing, or to go to sleep.

“Thank you, baby,” she says in awe, her eyes fixated on him and his dazzling smile.

“I love a good glass of cold water while getting ready. Also putting on lip balm before I start any makeup,” Lyla says to the camera, still feeling awfully giddy by her boyfriend’s sweet gesture.

It’s the little things!

“Do you guys have a small skincare routine or a long one? I’m always so curious because I’ve met many people who do simple routines since their skin is acne prone, but I’ve also met people who have a long routine with many products but it just works so well for them. I love the versatility,” she talks animatedly while going on a tangent about skincare.

“So, we’re done with our skin and now we move onto makeup. As I said in the beginning, this is my favorite look for date nights.”

“She doesn’t need any makeup whatsoever,” Jeremy inputs, coming closer to Lyla. Only the bottom half of his face (starting at his bottom lip) and down is captured by the lens.

Lyla looks up at him, cheeks continuously burning and eyelashes batting at him.

“I don’t?” She asks with a sly smile. She reaches out to his wrists and rolls up the sleeves of his button up. Butterflies flutter around her stomach at the way he looks at her.

“No, you’re perfect, baby,” he whispers, but it’s still caught by the mic of the camera.

She flashes him a toothy smile, biting on her bottom lip when he leans closer. His hand goes to her throat to tilt her head back and he slants his lips over hers. Lyla’s breath hitches and she can feel the want transferred from his saccharine kiss. When he pulls away, she has to shake off all her other thoughts and focus back on the video. A difficult task when she can still taste him on her tongue.

The camera lens only captures the sight of his hand on her throat and how his bearded jaw and lips encase hers. Little did they know that the familiar motion would spark up many comments later in the week.

“Sorry about that, guys. That was my boyfriend and we’re actually going on a date in like an hour. That means we have to do a speedy routine,” she says, trying to act unfazed even though she can still feel her lips tingling.

“The lineup for tonight's pretty small as I’m staying at my boyfriend’s house, so I don’t have all my makeup products,” Lyla explains as she gathers and organizes her makeup.

“Tonight we’re doing light concealer, a smokey, siren type of eye look, with some blush and a nude lip. It’s very simple!”

The singer shows each product she’ll be using before she starts with her eyeshadow.

“So… did y’all buy tickets for my tour? If you did, leave a comment stating what show you’re attending. I’m so excited! I think I saw that my Houston, Boston, and New York shows were sold out. Like you don’t understand how amazing that is. It makes me very happy! My music career has come a long way,” Lyla rambles, pausing her strokes on her eyelids in between each few words as the excitement takes over. There’s a noticeable shine glimmering in her eyes.

She catches a glimpse of Jeremy smiling proudly at her from the corner of her eye. It makes her blush even more than she already is.

“Okay! This is the eye look. The messier the better, especially bc J and I are going to a place with low lighting,” Lyla does a little pose, not realizing she said her little nickname for Jeremy.

As she puts on her eyeliner and mascara, she can feel Jeremy’s stare on her.

“I usually tend to start applying my mascara to the tips of my lashes just so that they stay curled,” she turns toward him, eyes playfully glaring at him before getting back to what she is doing.

The hair on her arms and the back of her neck still rise, the intensity of his stare is strong and lingering. She tries to not let her eyes slide back over to him, but she can’t help the way they move on their own accord. She also can’t help the infectious giggle that slips from her mouth when he smiles at her.

“Is it weird that I apply my winged eyeliner after mascara? I just find it easi-“ she also can’t help the way her words die on her tongue while she’s under his gaze.

“Sorry, easier,” she finishes her interrupted sentence, another giggle going past her lips.

“Baby, can I put on your blush?” Jeremy asks and Lyla immediately nods her head.

“I’m just going to let you do it and not instruct you,” she giggles and turns to face him.

Her eyes are level with his chest, so she uses his shoulders to help her stand on her tiptoes. A hand holds her blush brush while the other settles on her waist, making her feel light and on fire all at once.

“Ohhh the pressure is on. Okay! I got this. On the apples of the cheeks right?” He asks, poking one of her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she teases, poking at his ribs.

Lyla giggles as he drags the brush along her cheeks. Her hands reach out to clutch onto his button up.

“So J decided to do my blush. Let’s see if he does a good job! I’m not a makeup artist at all, but I have learned a lot from previous concerts and shoots. I think I’m pretty decent at doing my own makeup now,” Lyla turns her head to the camera and talks, trying to distract herself from Jeremy’s attention and the way his slight touch on her skin makes her shiver.

“Okay, how does it look?” His voice is low and honeyed, it makes Lyla’s knees weak.

She walks closer to the large mirror, inspecting her boyfriend’s work. She hums and haws in a way to tease him while he waits patiently for an answer. Eyes crinkling up in a smile when Jeremy lets out a playfully, tortured laugh.

“What do you guys think? Did my boyfriend do a good job? I think he did pretty good,” she speaks to the camera, a twinkle in her eye because she’s actually impressed with how well her man did.

“Thank you, baby,” again, his hand comes up to her neck to keep her still while his lips encase hers. It’s a sucking kiss, almost too much to be filmed for many people to see, but they don’t care.

“Time for the lips,” Lyla giggles, eyes half lidded and lips red.

“Baby, what lip product should I use? Lipstick, so I don’t get glitter in your beard?” She asks, holding up different options for him to choose from.

“Ly, I don’t care if you get glitter in my beard. Really, baby,” Jeremy says, reassuring her when he catches her questioning gaze.

Lyla looks at the camera, a smile plastered all over her face and her eyes looking lovesick. Her shoulders rise and fall with the contented sigh she lets out.

“Okay! Lip gloss it is then,” she jumps in excitement and applies her lip gloss while dancing around.

“This is my date night makeup look. Now all I have to do is toss my hair around and put on an outfit and I’m set. This has been really fun, and I hope you all enjoy my beauty secrets. And I really hope to see all of you lovely people on tour. Love ya, bye!” Lyla blows kisses to the camera, smiling in genuine happiness.

“My girl is so beautiful,” Jeremy comes up behind her and encircles his arms around her neck, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“You’re so handsome. Let me get dressed and we can head out,” she presses a chaste kiss to his lips and walks over to her bag.

He slaps her ass, smirking at her when she turns around with a loud squeal. She sends him a half glare, half smile, but winks at him before she’s out of sight.

Later that week, both of their phones are blowing up with various notifications from different social media platforms. Every tweet and post is about the rumored man in Lyla’s Vogue video. Everyone is shocked to see that the newest pop sensation has a man, and one that they have no idea who it could be. But that’s the thing, many of Lyla’s fans also happen to be hockey fans who know that beard and voice anywhere.

a/n: Okay! I really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you all love it!!

[drewsbuzzcut]

This Feeling Is Deeply Profound

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ fic

Warnings: smut smut smut and slight alcohol consumption

Takes place February 2024

“I fear you’re better at this than I am,” Lyla breaks the comfortable silence that settled over her and Jeremy as they worked through the recipe.

It’s their third date which consists of a private cooking class, so making and eating food with a nice glass of wine. As of late, Jeremy is proving to be a better cook than herself.

“I don’t know. The sauce you made tastes really good,” he compliments which brings a small, appreciative smile to Lyla’s features.

“Well yeah. That was really easy. I’m struggling with this dough kneading,” she says through a giggle.

Her eyes squint up and her cheeks get rosy. It’s a sight Jeremy adores.

“I think I need your strong muscles for this,” she winks at him, her smirk peeking out although she tries to hide it.

She didn’t care how dumb it sounded, she wanted him surrounding her in every way possible.

Jeremy quickly stands from his chair, making his way behind her sitting form and easily slotting his fingers through hers to guide her with kneading the dough. The smell of his cologne invades her senses, and the warmth emanating from his torso ironically makes goosebumps attack her skin.

“Is this better?” He asks, voice deep and sweet.

She tilts her head back, looking up into his eyes that somehow appear shiny in the dim lighting. Lyla feels her heartbeat race and hears the blood pumping in her ears. He’s so close and it kills her to not be able to have him the way she wants to. As if he’s not close enough, he brings his chair around and sits directly behind her. His hands are still laced and helping her, but it’s hard to focus on anything when she can feel his breath of the shell of her ear.

“Yes. See, you’re better at this,” Lyla says in a whisper, too afraid her voice will betray her.

He presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder, making Lyla take a minute to calm herself. This was going to be a long night if he kept doing little things like that.

After the bread comes out of the oven, hot and smelling heavenly, Jeremy helps set their little table setup. Lyla lights the candles, pours the drinks, and Jeremy plates the food.

“This looks so yummy. I got to say we actually did a really good job!” Lyla comes up behind Jeremy, a hand softly resting in the middle of his back.

“We have to taste it first,” Jeremy teases, earning a playful scoff and eye roll.

Though his playful demeanor hides it, Jeremy is trying not to get weak at the knees from her touch. It’s proving to be a challenge.

“Here’s your seat, babe,” he pulls out Lyla’s chair and she almost does at double take at the pet name that slipped from his lips.

“Thank you, babe,” she tests the name, enjoying the way it rolls off her tongue.

They both don’t draw too much attention to the new addition, both just deciding to start eating.

“This is really good, J. We did a good job,” Lyla hums.

“Oh yeah. Told you you’re good in the kitchen.”

“No way, that’s you! You already know how to cook! Yeah, I remember the couple stories you told me about you cooking- which is how we ended up picking this for our date. You were just blessed with better skills than I was,” Lyla rambles, giggles falling between each sentence.

“Well, that means we have to spend more time together, so I can teach you those said skills,” he lowers his voice, pulling her chair closer to his.

Lyla extends her arm out, setting it over his shoulder as they continue their conversation, now facing toward each other. After many laughs and various conversations about many topics, they finally move onto dessert. The decadent chocolate cheesecake wasn’t prepared by them, but made by the cooks who actually work there.

“You have to try this,” Lyla says, eyes closed as she lets out a moan around her fork.

“I can’t have that. Not during the season,” he says, trying not to focus on the sounds coming from her mouth.

“Please. One bite. I promise it won’t do anything bad to you,” Lyla tries to convince him, but he pulls her into a kiss instead.

Jeremy places a hand on the hollow of her throat, pulling her closer to him. Lyla lets the fork clatter down to the plate, desperately holding in the moans she wants to let out. He’s in the same predicament. He can taste the chocolate when his tongue tangles with hers. Lyla’s hands go straight to his hair, gripping lightly so she wouldn’t float away.

“Yeah, I think I want a bite. It tasted really good,” his lips move to her jaw, pressing wet kisses to her skin.

Lyla starts to feel her resolve crumbling. His lips feel too good on her skin for her to continue to act like she didn’t want him. No, not want. Need. She needs him.

“Then take a bite.” A bite of me.

He pulls away, leaving Lyla to blink back to reality. He brings a piece of their dessert to his mouth and lets out similar sounds that Lyla let out. He holds out the fork to her, a piece waiting for her mouth.

She surrounds her mouth around the fork, maintaining eye contact with the goalie. She’s testing him, seeing how much he can handle before he finally makes a move. Maybe she’ll have to make the first move, but she didn’t care because she still loved to see him get riled up. He tries to hide it, but Lyla knows how to pinpoint his feelings. They are the same as hers after all.

The last of their night passes in a blur for Lyla. She’s so focused on the feeling of his hand wrapped around her waist to even pay attention on their walk back to his car. She doesn’t want to come off too strong, but at the same time she wants to get her point across. Hopefully he’ll invite her inside of his place.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” Jeremy asks once they’re settled in his car.

“I really did. It was nice to do something I’ve never tried before- even if it was just something as simple as a cooking class. I’m really glad we did it together,” she responds, reaching her hand out to place his free hand on her thigh.

She watches Jeremy relax into the driver’s seat, looking awfully calm and collected. His eyes are on the road and his hand squeezes at her thigh. She doesn’t know how he manages to look so cool. She’s trying not to combust at the seams from his gentle touch.

“I had a great time, too. It’s nice to step out of being a hockey player for a minute, especially after a loss,” he admits, taking a glance at her when he stops at the red light.

“You and the team will get back on track soon,” Lyla rubs the back of his neck, feeling quite smug when she sees him shiver.

“Thank you, baby,” Jeremy grabs her wrist and kisses her palm.

Lyla has a hard time not reacting viscerally to the second new pet name of the night. She unbuckles her seatbelt, alarming Jeremy, but she starts pressing kisses to his neck and that gets him silent real quick. She holds onto his face, hands on his jaw as she kisses him from his cheek down to his shoulder. It isn’t anything fast or rough, just small pecks to where she can reach without straddling him.

When the light turns green, she retreats back to her seat and buckles her seatbelt once again.

“Do you want to come over to my place? We don’t have to do anything. I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to leave you,” he rambles and Lyla lets out a shy giggle, accepting his offer quickly after.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the radio. However, Jeremy does turn up the volume when her song starts playing. It was a nice, unexpected moment of laughter. She’d pay anything to see Jeremy poorly sing one of her songs again.

“Do you have something I can change into? These pants are starting to get uncomfortable,” Lyla whispers in his ear.

If someone were to see them right now, they’d probably get weirded out stares. Lyla is attached to his front, arms thrown around him as he walks up to his front door. They’re whispering in each other’s ears as if they had to be silent.

“Of course. You can have a pair of my sweatpants, might have to roll them up, but they should work. You could also use one of my shirts if you’re not feeling the sweatpants.”

“Perfect!”

“Here’s my room. You wait here and I’ll go get you some clothes,” he walks into his closet while Lyla is left to look around his room.

It’s homey, quite organized for a guy. It also smells like him. There are so many scattered picture frames and they make her smile. She loves that he loves his family.

“I got you a shirt and some pants,” he snaps her out of her thoughts.

“Thank you,” she tries to undo the zipper of her blouse, but for some reason she can’t get a good grip.

“J? Can you help me unzip my top?”

She feels his hands land softly on her shoulders before she hears his response. Her breathing slows at the gentleness of his hands as he pulls the zipper down.

She pulls the sleeves off her arms, her bare nipples hardening as they come in contact with the cool air. She’s still facing away from him, but she can feel the tension grow palpable. After one more phrase of encouragement, she turns around. Her breasts are on full display for him. He tries not to stare, but when Lyla places his hands on her ribcage, he finally takes a look. It’s like every thought and breath exits his body. He doesn’t even know how to react when she presses her chest to his.

He tightens his hold on her, though. He needed to ground himself.

The warmth of her back against his hands is nice, but nothing compares to the heat pooling in her eyes and her core. He presses a bruising kiss onto her mouth, his lips lingering. A burning desire flickers through her entire body.

“I know you said that you didn’t want me to come over for sex, but I wouldn’t mind,” she whispers, and puts his hands on her cheeks.

“Are you sure?” Jeremy feels hesitant. It’s only their third date and he doesn’t want to force her to go through with anything she isn’t comfortable with.

“Yes. Touch me,” Lyla pleads.

A hand on her throat and the other moving towards her nipple, Jeremy pulls her in for another kiss. This time it’s softer, but it still makes Lyla feel lightheaded.

He picks her up and softly lays her on his bed. The neutral colored bedspread looks perfect underneath her. They continue to stare into each other’s eyes as they pull off their clothing. Jeremy’s eyes are beautiful pools of vulnerability, but they’re also laced with lust.

They take a moment to just take each other in. This is new for them, them being naked in front of the other. Lyla feels herself grow wet just looking at his body and all that he has to offer, and he has a lot to offer.

Jeremy’s eyes hone in on the small butterfly tattoo on Lyla’s hip and travel along her curves. Her naked body easily becomes his favorite color palette.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with a tone that’s a mix of astonishment and something that’s akin to love.

He lets a lone finger trace from her collarbones down to her abdomen, and there’s a trail of chills left in its wake. He gets on his knees, leaning over her lower half. His lips press onto the inked skin of her hip and Lyla shoots up, seeking for friction. He never thought someone could be so intrigued with a small tattoo, but he is as he sucks the skin into his mouth to create a hickey.

“Jeremy, I want to touch you,” she reaches out for him.

He crawls in between her legs, hands pressing into the mattress above her head and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Lyla lets her hands wander all over his body. She loves the way his muscles flex under her touch. He loves the way her soft skin grazes each scar and bruise he’s ever had because of hockey.

All too soon, he leaves her touch, deciding to travel down her body. A quick stop at her breasts leads to her nipples becoming so sensitive and hard as he sucks on them.

Slowly but surely he gets to the apex of her thighs, moving her legs apart to spread her open. He gets the perfect view of her dripping folds.

“Look at you. My girl is so wet,” he whispers, opening Lyla up before sucking her clit into his mouth.

Despite the moan that rips through her throat, Lyla tries to stay quiet. Jeremy doesn’t allow her the chance to silence herself, though. His tongue flicks over her clit, mouth closing to create the perfect suction around her. Lyla’s hips shoot off the bed, her hands gripping onto his curls. The taste of her arousal coats his tongue, brain going hazy and moaning wildly around her.

“J! Fuck. More, please more,” she cries.

Deciding to tease her, he rips his mouth away. His beard shines with her wetness and Lyla swears she could cum at the sight. He dips two of his fingers inside of her, slowly pumping them in and out of her.

“I need to get you ready for me, baby,” he mutters into the skin of her abdomen, lips moving to kiss her tattoo.

“No. I want you now. Baby, please. Please fuck me,” she begs, voice barely comprehensible.

Hearing Lyla call him baby and in her sexy voice makes him want to make her scream. He wants the only thing he hears for the rest of his life to be her voice.

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers, baby. Do you think you’re ready for me?” His lips ghost over her mound.

“Yes! Please,” she whines.

Jeremy rises to his knees, fisting his cock and guiding it to her opening. Lyla watches with a meaningful gaze as he spreads her wetness around her fluttering hole. She just wants to be full of him.

“Shit. I don’t think I have any condoms,” Jeremy states, getting off the bed to dig around in his bedside drawer.

That’s not what Lyla wanted to hear. That’s not what anyone wants to hear as they’re about to have their world rocked.

She thinks for a while why Jeremy is looking in his restroom. She doesn’t usually have unprotected sex with people she’s getting to know. Not even people she’s been in long relationships with, but this relationship with Jeremy feels different. She trusts him so much and she feels safe with him.

“Jeremy,” the call for him comes out weak, her voice starting to tremble because she’s more nervous than to begin with.

“Jeremy,” it’s a lot more clear now.

He walks out of his restroom, a wince painted on his face and his eyes cast down.

“I’m sorry. I forgot that I didn’t have any condoms. That sounds so bad. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting for us to have sex tonight,” he whispers

“It’s okay. I’m on birth control and I trust you,” she stares into his eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“No. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I swear we can wait, or I can go buy condoms right now,” he rambles, words getting trampled by each other.

Before he can continue, she gets on her knees and pulls him into a kiss. A whimper being transferred to his mouth when she tastes herself on his tongue.

“I trust you. Do you trust me?” She asks, eyes glossy and hands glued to his cheeks.

“I do.”

“Then we can continue,” she nods her head in reassurance.

He presses his lips to hers, hands going to her back and softly lowering her onto the bed.

He lines himself up with her entrance, slowly pushing in so she can adjust.

“Oh my god,” she breathes out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yup. I just need a minute to adjust,” he complies, pecking her face until it’s safe to move again.

Once given the green light, he starts to rock his hips into hers, feeding off her low moans. She fits perfectly around him.

The pull of his hips is slow, deep, and it makes Lyla feel every single part of him. However, she can tell he’s holding back. She can sense it in the way he’s shaking from trying to stop his movements from being overpowering. She can hear it in the way he tries to control his breathing.

Lyla wraps her legs around his waist, pulling his body closer to hers. Her hands roam up his back, fingernails lightly scratching at his skin. He fucks her like he cares and that sets something feral off inside of her.

“You can be rough with me. I promise I won’t break. I can be your good girl,” she wraps her hand around the back of his neck, lifting her head up so she can whisper in his ear.

He lets out the raspiest moan. Lyla grows wetter at the noise and Jeremy can feel it drip down to his balls. His hips start rocking with more force and a faster pace. Deciding to rest on his knees again, he opens Lyla’s legs wider. He presses on her lower stomach and he angles his hips up.

“Oh my god. That feels so good, baby. Fuck. Keep going,” she moans, head tilting back and fingers clutching onto the sheets.

He can feel himself deep inside of her, but when he sees his cock bulge in her stomach, he feels his cock start to pulse. It’s too soon to bust his load inside of her, though.

Suddenly pulling out of her warmth and smirking at Lyla’s grunts, he flips her over onto her stomach. He grips her hips, making her back arch so that she’s face down, ass up. He pulls her back, cock thrusting into her at a lethal pace.

Lyla screams his name, tears already lining her eyes and blurring her vision.

His balls slap against her clit, sending flames throughout her entire body. He pulls her arms behind her back, holding her wrists together in one of his hands. His eyes are glued to the way her wet walls wrap around him. The way she sucks him back in because she’s so tight. The way she makes his cock glisten.

“You like that, baby? You like my cock splitting you open?” He leans down to whisper in her ear.

“Yes!” She shouts.

He lets go of her hands , enjoying the way she immediately fists the blankets. The tip of his length hits her velvety spot and makes her clench around his shaft. Lyla tries to move, the pleasure starting to get to her, but Jeremy pins her hips in place. His thumbs fit perfectly in the dimples on her back, and his cock continues to drill into her.

“More. More.”

Sweat is already starting to gather in the dips and valleys of their bodies, and Jeremy starts to feel his balls tighten. Knowing that they won’t last much longer, he lifts her body so that her back is to his chest.

Lyla rests her head back on his shoulder, throwing her arms around his neck the best she can. Somehow he hits so much deeper inside of her. She lets out the most sultry gasps each time he ruts into her. She turns her head towards his, eyes connecting in their haze of passion. She can see the lust swimming in them. She presses her lips to his hungrily. Their teeth clash and their tongues dance together. Her breathless moans sound perfect right next to his ear.

She bounces her hips up and down, walls caving in and dragging him closer to his orgasm. Both of their bodies move in tandem. It’s crazy how they’re perfectly in sync.

His grunts echo in her head. His noises are smooth and hot. They are the best thing Lyla has ever heard. She wants to place his sounds in the background vocals of all her songs.

Lyla’s breath hitches when he wraps a hand around her throat and lets his other fingers circle her clit. She feels the heat coiling in her tummy, her body quivering against him as she feels her orgasm coming on strong.

“I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum,” she begs, lips glued to his cheek and she kisses his skin hotly as if he needs convincing.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess on my cock,” he gives her permission, pounding his hips into hers.

She lets go with a silent scream, pleasure too much for there to be sound. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, but her vision would be blurred by white, hot starbursts anyway.

Her pussy holds onto him with a vice like grip, and he can feel her muscles contract around him. She pulls his orgasm out of his body. His cock exploding deep inside of her while he moans like it’s the best thing ever. And for him, it is. He’s never known pleasure to be so riveting.

He keeps her pressed to his body, hips slowly working them both through their releases.

“Kiss me,” his husky voice whispers in her ear.

Her lips lock with his, but with each movement of his hips her mouth opens and a whimper spills.

He pushes her body forward, guiding her to lay back down. She turns on her back, eyes boring into his. She needs more of him. Although her body still shakes and feels sore, she needed more of him. She’s addicted.

He hovers over her, eyes making a path down to her spent cunt. He leaves a trail of ghost kisses from her breast to her belly button. She watches with bated breath when Jeremy’s hands go back to her hips, his touch sending electricity through her. He lifts her bottom half up, leaning down to let his tongue explore her further.

“I love the way you taste. I love the way you whimper when I do this,” he sucks her clit into his mouth. Lyla whines and writhes underneath him.

He moans at the sight of her leaking his cum. His tongue creeps down to collect their expense, lapping and making the most obscene noises. Lyla’s legs tremble as they try to close around his head, but he quickly pulls her legs apart.

“J, I can’t. Fuck, I want more,” Lyla mewls, body arching up off the bed.

He keeps lapping at her pussy, warm fingers sinking into her. The continuous press of his fingertips into her sweet spot makes her delirious. The familiar burning sensation churns deep inside of her. She quickly feels a second orgasm pounding on her body. Lyla’s body stills before all her muscles release and a loud cry falls for her lips.

She pushes at Jeremy’s head, way too sensitive for him to keep going. Lyla’s chest heaves as she catches her breath. Her previously curled hair is now a mess and matted to her skin by her sweat. Her head is spinning and all she can feel is her heart beating fast. She doesn’t even release Jeremy left until he reappears with a warm, wet cloth to clean her up.

“You did so well,” he whispers as he softly wipes her body clean.

Lyla stays quiet, getting out of bed to use the restroom. The whole time she’s thinking about what’s next. Does she pick up her clothes from his floor, get dressed then leave? Does she get back into his bed? Does he do aftercare? The walk back into the room feels awkward, which is crazy with how intimate they just were. She decides to get in under the covers. Jeremy is still seated at the end of the bed, feeling confused. He didn’t know why she felt so far away.

After he cleans himself up and uses the restroom, he finds her still tucked under the comforters. He lies down next to her, eyebrows furrowing in worry when he sees her visibly shaking.

“Baby, come here. Please be close to me,” he requests, voice soft.

Lyla immediately turns to him, shimmying her way into his arms. She throws an arm over his chest and a leg over his hips. She focuses on his warmth and how softly he holds her.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks into the skin of her forehead.

“Perfect. You’re perfect. I really love sex with you,” Lyla tilts his head down so he’s looking at her.

She leans in, chastely kissing his lips. Jeremy’s hand finds its rightful place on her throat.

“I really like you, Lyla. There’s no one else like you, and I don’t mean that in the way that everyone else means when they tell someone that. I mean, I truly have never meant someone like you. You’re changing my life in the best way possible,” he stares so deeply into her soul.

“Yeah, well you’re changing mine, too,” she whispers, kissing his chest and cuddling into him.

His hands caress her body, subconsciously finding their way to her hip tattoo. Even though Jeremy’s touch is gentle, her body jerks. The red bruise left behind by his mouth is sensitive.

“Stay the night?” Hands that are soft, but rough around the edges continue to stroke her skin. Lyla finds herself melting into his body.

“As long as you cuddle me the entire night,” the girl counters, lips attacking his neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jeremy holds her tight, falling into a peaceful sleep.

a/n: This is a little rough, but the smut will be better once I start writing more for this pairing! Otherwise, I hope y’all enjoy!

[drewsbuzzcut]

Boston Forever?

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A masterminds blurb

Warnings: alludes to smut & not edited (sorry)

Takes place: Oct 2024

Lyla stretches her deliciously sore limbs, turning over to the sight of her sleeping boyfriend. He only has 5 minutes until his alarm goes off, confirming the start to his season now that he’s officially signed. Instead of calling her last night to relate the news of his new contract, he paid her a visit. He was barely able to spew everything before they were ripping each other’s clothes off in a much needed celebration.

The girl reaches out, her fingers delicately tracing each notch of his spine. There are faint, red scratches littering his back; ones that she presses soft kisses to. Jeremy slowly comes to life, blinking the sleep out of his eyes before fixing his sight on his girlfriend and all her beautiful naked glory. A mixture of red and soft purples are blotched along her collarbones and breasts. The hockey goalie lets out a sigh and smiles as their night replays in his head. The echo of her moans and the visual of her quaking body jumpstarts a pulse that rushes through his veins. Sadly there’s not enough time to ravish her body once more before he has to leave.

He holds out his arm and Lyla settles into his side easily. She throws a leg over his hip and leans up so she can kiss on his chest.

“Good morning, big boy. Excited?” She murmurs against his skin, making chills spread all over his body.

“Very,” he moans, too into the way she kisses the sensitive spot on his neck and tangles her fingers in his hair.

Wrapping a gentle hand around her throat, he pulls her in for a bruising kiss. His other hand occupies the small of her back as she straddles him. Jeremy sucks on her bottom lip, smiling until their kiss is momentarily interrupted. They stare into each other’s eyes for a bit, their chests heaving and lips already swollen. Not a minute passes before Lyla needs her lips back on his. She presses chaste kisses to his mouth until he swipes at the seam of her lips with his tongue. Their tongues dance and swirl around each other, pulling low moans from the both of them.

“I’m so proud of you,” Lyla whispers into his mouth. Although she’s not sure if he heard, being that her words were muffled by the soft smacking of their lips.

“I love you,” he breathed and reattached his lips back on hers. His hands move to wander her body, feeling her warm and smooth skin.

“I love you, J.”

She nibbles on his lip and continues to kiss him until her face is red from the scratch of his beard.

“I’m happy that I’m staying in Boston. Not just because of hockey, but because of you. I don’t think I’d survive being away from you. You’re the love of my life. There’s just no way I’d be able to go one without you by my side,” he declares almost somberly, the mere thought of being away from Lyla dampening his mood.

At his words, Lyla sits up, making him follow her lead. He noses at her décolletage, rests his cheek over her beating heart for a moment, and then buries his face in her neck. His long arms wrap around her body and hold her tight. The girl wraps her arms around his shoulders and rubs at his back, willing his sad thoughts to go away.

“There’s no need to worry about that anymore. You’re staying in Boston and I’m not leaving. I’m here and you’re mine and I’m yours. You don’t have to live a life without me by your side, you’re one lucky mother fucker,” Lyla tries to humor him, so he’s back to being happy.

It works when she feels him smile against her neck.

Before he gets a chance to respond, his alarm blares through the room. They both let out a sigh as Jeremy lays her on the bed, so he can get up and get ready. He lingers, though. He reaches out for her ankle, smoothing the skin over with his thumb.

“I am lucky. And as much as I really want to head to the rink, I also really wish I could stay here with you,” he admits with a small smile.

“I’ll be here when you get back, naked and all. Go show them why they did the right thing by signing you,” she exclaims, crawling over to him for one last kiss.

a/n: You don’t know how happy I was to wake up to the new that Jeremy is staying in Boston! Had to write this quick blurb to celebrate🫶 Enjoy!!

Also! For some reason it still won’t let me link anything😭