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theemporium · 14 days ago

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[5.1k] the thing between you and leon was just for convenience sake. that was all it was and all it ever would be. obviously fucking the same person for a prolonged period of time wouldn't lead to feelings or anything like that. right? (smutty themes included)

Look, Leon never claimed he made smart decisions off the ice.

It was different when he was on the ice. He was good on the ice, excellent even. He had shelves of trophies to prove as much. There was a reason he won those trophies, there was a reason he had earned his contract and there was a reason he was seen as one of the best players in the league, even whilst playing with Connor fucking McDavid every single night.

Leon was really fucking smart when it came to hockey. It was just everything else he seemed to have a problem with.

Case and point? The fact he was currently driving one and a half hours after a late afternoon game to meet you at some dodgy motel where there would be less of a chance of him being recognised than he would in Edmonton.

Not the smartest decision.

The fact this had been an ongoing arrangement for the last few months also further proved this was not a smart decision in the slightest.

But truthfully, Leon could not bring himself to regret his far-from-smart decisions because the pros definitely outweigh the cons, quality over quantity or whatever the saying was. Because god knows the relationship between the two of you came with way more cons: the distance, the commute, the fact you were a fucking Flames fan.

It was, by all definitions of the word, the furthest thing from convenient for him and yet he was still making the drive to Red Deer against his better judgement.

You were already there. He had just gotten out of the shower, the exhaustion from the game and the press conference already settling deep in his bones when he opened his phone to find a picture waiting for him, one of you sprawled out on a bed—a bed which he recognised easily by the same ugly sheets the motel used in every room.

Leon hated the way his stomach flipped at the sight of them, at the knowledge that you were there waiting for him.

He had tried not to think about what he was doing too much, but it was hard to avoid when Connor gave him an odd look after he phoned his dog-sitter and asked if he wouldn’t mind popping over to make sure Bowie got his afternoon walk and some dinner. He also tried to ignore the looks of confusion he got from the rest of the team as he waved off the offer of celebratory drinks after a shut-out win against the Blue Jackets.

If he was being honest, Leon’s way of coping with this whole thing was to avoid a lot of details.

It seemed to be working so far.

The drive to Red Deer felt like muscle memory by this point. It was almost therapeutic, to let his brain mostly shut off and relax after such a fast-paced, high adrenaline game. It was nice to just clutch the wheel and follow the signs down, knowing that you were waiting for him at the end of the journey.

He could have snorted the second he walked through the motel room door, the key still in one hand as he pushed it open and found you sprawled on the bed—unfortunately clothed, unlike the photo you had sent him earlier.

“Playing hard to get?”

Your lips twitched as you pushed yourself to sit up on the bed, shuffling until you were perched on the end. “Not everything is about you, Draisaitl,” you mused, watching as he closed and locked the door behind him. “You were taking your time and this room is fucking freezing.”

“It’s almost like the only thing I had planned in my diary was a game today,” Leon deadpanned. “No secret meetups penciled in.”

“Hm, should have guessed you would want your ego stroked after a game like that,” you retorted, watching as he began to shrug off the suit jacket he wore with his game day suit. “Want me to tell you how good you did, baby?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “You watched?”

You shrugged. “I got curious, wanted to see what all the hype was about.”

“Hm,” Leon hummed, tugging impatiently at his tie until he was able to pull it over his head. His fingers were already moving to the buttons of his shirt. “And what was your conclusion?”

“You play alright,” you commented, your lips twitching like you were trying to fight back your own grin. “Slightly disappointed by tonight’s performance though.”

Leon raised his brows. “Two goals and an assist weren’t enough for you?”

“I was looking for a hat trick,” you said, and this time you did grin.

“Brat,” Leon huffed, not quite fond but something else positive, lustful, desired even.

“You love it,” you countered, eyes sparkling.

He didn’t even bother to deny it as he leaned down, both hands engulfing your face as he kissed you, hard and fast and desperate, like the long drive down had finally caught onto him and his patience.

“Clothes off,” he muttered between kisses, hissing a little when your teeth playfully nipped his lip.

“Gonna warm me up?” You taunted, leaning back enough to pull your hoodie over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor beside his abandoned tie and shirt.

He groaned, his nose scrunching up. “That was a horrible line.”

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna fuck me,” you retorted, looking far too smug for his liking.

The worst part was that you were right.

…

“Leaving already?”

“I need to get back to Bowie.”

“Give him my love.”

“I will not be doing that.”

“Rude.”

…

Leon wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide the fact he was sleeping with someone on a regular basis.

It would be a stupid thing to try and hide when he knew each of his teammates had working eyes and would very much be able to see the scratches and marks left all over his body following his latest meetup with you.

“Oi! Oi! Someone had a fun night!”

Leon barely reacted anymore, simply letting the cheers and catcalls echo through the locker room as he focused on gearing up for practice. It was inevitable, it was something he had dealt with since the start of his relationship with you—if whatever the two of you had could even be considered a relationship.

“I’ve been looking for a new place to take Lauren for date night.”

Leon paused, turning to look at Connor with his brows furrowed together. He waited for the boy to continue but he never did. “Okay?”

Connor was still looking at him expectantly. “Any recommendations?”

“No?” Though, it came out sounding like a question. Mostly because it was a question, because Leon was kind of confused why this was a necessary topic of conversation before early morning skate. “Am I meant to know a place?”

Connor blinked. “I assumed wherever you went after the game on Tuesday.”

Leon frowned. “I didn’t go out to eat after Tuesday’s game.”

“But you phoned your dog-sitter,” Connor pointed out, though he didn’t sound accusatory. He had that look on his face, the same one that Leon often saw on the ice when he was trying to work out a play before it even happened.

“I did,” Leon nodded, because there was no point in denying it when Connor had overheard the conversation. “Pretty sure he doesn't have any date spot recommendations either.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and Leon swore he could hear the cogs in his brain whirling and turning. But Leon was stubborn and a little petty and he didn’t give handouts, not even to Connor. So he stood there, staring back at his friend with a fairly blank expression.

“Interesting,” Connor said eventually before turning back to his stall to get ready for practice.

Leon pretended to ignore the way the tightness in his chest loosened when Connor dropped the topic.

…

“The motel could be a good date night spot, you never know.”

“I know for a fact we saw a rat in the bathtub once.”

“Yeah, and you screamed like a little girl.”

“I screamed the appropriate way for a rat the size of a small dog.”

“Bowie could take that rat.”

“I would never let Bowie near that monster.”

…

Despite every piece of advice he had ever been given from the veterans before him, roadies didn’t really get easier.

After a while, the non-descriptive hotel rooms with scratchy sheets and stiff pillows became a part of the routine. It was a part of his job, the same way early morning practices and bag skates were. He didn’t like it, he could do without it but he had learnt to accept it very early on in his career.

Still, there were some nights on the road where the room was too uncomfortable for Leon to settle down.

They had flown in early for their east coast roadie, having a full day and night in Florida before their game the following night. The others had headed out for dinner, wanting to enjoy the heat whilst they could but Leon had waved them off when they extended the offer to him. He was tired and still a little grumpy from the small nap he managed on the turbulent flight down. He wanted his bed more than anything, but the hotel one would have to do.

Except, Florido was humid.

It was humid and hot and his clothes were sticking to his body. But the air conditioning in the hotel room was stuck at a temperature that made the room frigid. And the fucking feeling of the sheets against his skin made him feel like he was seconds away from biting his own arm off if the starchiness didn’t stop feeling so starchy against him.

He hadn’t even realised what he was doing until the rings were going through.

“I hope you’re wearing something sexy for me.”

Despite his pissy mood, Leon did find himself snorting a little.

“Put on my tightest pair of boxers just for you,” he mused, swallowing back the biting complaints as he tried to settle back onto the bed.

“Yeah? Gonna mess them up for me, big boy?”

“God,” Leon groaned but he was smiling. “I don’t even know why I bother sometimes.”

But you laughed and the sound settled something inside him. “I bet they have little Oilers logos on them too.”

Leon grinned a little. “Is that something you’re into? Want me to dress up for you?”

“I would burn them if you wore them in front of me.”

“If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask,” Leon retorted, his eyes falling shut as you scoffed on the other side of the phone.

“Are you naked now?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Do I want to listen to you jerk off to my fantasies of burning your Oilers boxers? Can’t imagine anything hotter, Draisaitl.”

Leon hated the way his dick twitched at your words anyways, the way something stirred in his stomach at the idea of you being so desperate to get his clothes off and to have him sprawled out naked and waiting for you. He didn’t tend to like handing over control, but he thinks his curiosity would win out when it came to you.

“Talk dirty to me, baby. Tell me your sexy, arsonistic dreams.”

…

“Be honest. Do your boxers have little Oilers logos on them?”

“I am not even dignifying that question with an answer.”

“I’ll wear a Flames thong, we can match.”

“I promise you I will not fuck you if you wear any sort of Flames merchandise around me. Instant turn off.”

“Liar.”

…

Even though Red Deer was a beloved meet up spot for the both of you, Leon wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the obvious opportunity to meet up after a Battle of Alberta game.

Your apartment was one Leon had become familiar with, even though this was technically the first time he had ever stepped foot into it. It felt a little surreal as he walked through the doorway, sliding off his boots and looking around at the apartment that had been the backdrop for more Facetimes than he could even remember.

His eyes lingered on the couch as a vague memory came to mind, of seeing you sprawled over it with your hand between your legs and your head thrown back as you came for him over the phone after a particularly rough game against LA.

“You just gonna stand there all day?”

“Maybe,” Leon answered, not seeming to be in any rush as he continued to glance around your apartment before turning to face you. “I wanted to see what my options were for the night.”

You raised your brows.

“What? Backing out of our bet now?” Leon mused, feeling his stomach twist in delight at the way your eyes instantly narrowed in defiance. You were going to be difficult tonight, bratty even.

Good. He liked that. He wanted that.

“You were so confident your Flames would win,” Leon continued, the name tasting like acid on his tongue as he hissed it out. His eyes were glued to you, taking slow steps towards you and feeling a thrill of excitement at the way you refused to back down. “A shame they couldn’t win.”

“They would have,” you said, just to push his buttons, just to piss him off. “Bad calls can really determine a game.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Bad calls don’t mean shit when they can’t get the puck in the back of the net.”

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he stood in front of you. “And you did?”

“Twice,” Leon grinned, sharklike and dangerous and yet, it still didn’t stop you from darting forward to press your lips against his.

Leon was shameless with the groan he let out as he pressed you against the wall, as he tucked his leg between yours and wound his arms around you so he could press you against his body. He was shameless in the way he kissed you, fast and passionate and needy and desperate. He was shameless in the way he muttered what he wanted to do with you, in the way he wanted you, in the stupid deal you had goaded him into a few hours before the game.

It was a herculean task to pull yourselves away from the wall and let you pull him towards your bedroom, but it was worth it once the two of you had managed to tear your clothes off and get on the bed. Leon allowed himself one, two, three seconds to stare at the sight of you spread out on the bed before he crawled over you and completely engulfed your body with his own.

“And that—” You let out a small whine as his teeth nipped the spot behind your ear. “—power play in the second was a bullshit call and we both fucking know it.”

“Fuck,” Leon groaned, his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the length of your neck. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Thought you liked my mouth open,” you retorted, breathless and smug and, fuck, if it wasn’t infuriatingly hot to him. As if it wasn’t that damn mouth that was the reason he kept this going when it was far from easy or convenient.

“I like it full,” he corrected, lifting his head to watch the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I like it when you’re too fucked out to talk.”

Your eyes gleamed with interest. “Then guess you better hurry up. I’ve been hearing a lot of promises since you walked through that door.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t move.”

“Is this you cashing in your reward from the bet?” You asked, playful and teasing but still obedient as you reached up to grip the wooden bars of your headboard. “That's all you want from me? To not touch you?”

Winner gets to do whatever they want for the night.

Leon grinned and it made your stomach twist in delight. “Be good and you’ll find out just what I want and what I will get from you.”

…

“Is that a teddy?”

“Don’t judge Quacks, he’s been with me through a lot.”

“He is staring into my soul.”

“He is a good judge of character and he says you’re pissy.”

“Sounds like a very judgemental duck.”

“You two can bond over it.”

…

Somewhere along the line, the visits to that dodgy motel in Red Deer started to lessen.

Leon wasn’t sure when or why but…it just started to happen. It almost felt natural though, something he tried not to think about too deeply. He had just come off one of their longest roadies of the season yet—one that unfortunately resulted in more losses than wins—and he was keyed up, pissed off and in desperate need of some sort of distraction.

But despite the two days off following the roadie, the idea of sitting in his car to drive down to Red Deer and back just for the sake of a few hours (at most) felt tiring and annoying and just…so much work.

You had laughed over the phone when Leon had said as much, not sounding all that bothered or surprised by his pissy attitude. If the messages and late night calls shared during the roadie were anything to go by, you had watched the games and knew just how bad the team was playing lately.

“Want me to come up and kiss the shitty games better?”

“That’s a three hour drive,” he found himself saying in response. “Both ways.”

You snorted. “Wow, you wouldn’t even let me stay the night? Maybe chivalry is dead.”

And that…fuck, Leon didn’t realise how badly he wanted that until you said.

“You should come,” he blurted out. “Come and stay over.” And after a few moments of silence, he added, “I don’t have anything for a few days either.”

Leon wasn’t sure what he expected to come of the offer, but it was a little too late once you had accepted the offer. You messaged him once you were on the road. You sent another when you briefly stopped at Red Deer, taking a picture of your usual motel and sending it with a ‘missing the musty smell already’. You ended up sending your location for the rest of the journey, claiming you couldn’t be bothered to message when you were nearby and that he could just watch your location if he was that desperate to know.

He didn’t admit that he watched your pin move closer and closer to his house for the last fifteen minutes of your drive.

Leon kind of expected it to be awkward when you arrived, for the regret to hit and for the heavy realisation to settle that he had let someone else into his space for a prolonged amount of time.

That never happened. If anything, it was more unsettling to realise just how easily you slipped into his life at home, to see how quickly Bowie accepted you.

If anything, it made him realise how much he wished the two of you had done this sooner.

…

“Never took you to be the kinda guy to wine and dine a girl.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you kiss Bowie with that mouth?”

“No, but I did make you come three—”

“Nuh uh! Not when Bowie can hear, he has innocent ears.”

…

The trips to Red Deer became nonexistent and instead were replaced with a back and forth of trips between Edmonton and Calgary.

Now, as stupid as his decisions off the ice may be, Leon wasn’t oblivious. He knew that this went beyond the original convenience excuse the two of you had thrown around at the start of this relationship. He knew that no normal person in a ‘sex only’ relationship was driving three hours just to spend a few days with their ‘sex only’ partner. He knew that this was far beyond the original agreement the two of you had agreed to in that dingy Calgary bar after the Oilers lost abysmally.

But Leon was more than happy to avoid voicing those realisations out loud for as long as he got to keep everything going the way it was.

Because he liked how things were, despite the initial confusion, and he was unashamedly selfish like that to know that he wasn’t letting it go until he had to.

And if lying to his teammates to get out of team bonding after a ten day roadie so he could be home when you came over was a part of that? Then so be it.

He missed you.

“You’re acting like it’s been a million years,” Leon commented, closing the door behind you and placing your bag to the side (rather than the spot in the middle of the entryway you had chosen).

“It has been a million years,” you said from your spot on the floor, your legs crossed and Bowie happily licking your face. “I’ve been deprived of seeing my favourite boy.”

Leon rolled his eyes, though it seemed fond. “He misses you too. Pretty sure he recognises your voice through the phone now. He looks extremely disappointed when he goes to the door and you’re not there.”

“Because he’s the smartest boy!” You cooed at the fluffy dog on your lap, grinning widely as he continued to whine and yip happily at you.

Leon chose to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight.

“Did you only miss him?” Leon found himself asking, because apparently he had reached the point of being jealous of his own damn dog.

The amusement was clear on your face when you lifted your head, that grin now directed completely at him. “I never took the Leon Draisaitl to be one to go fishing for compliments.”

Leon all but huffed. “I am not fishing, I am asking.”

“Because you missed me?” You asked, sounding even more amused.

“I regret opening the door.”

“Liar,” you beamed at him, moving Bowie off your lap (who was not happy with the sudden shift in attention) and pushed yourself back onto your feet until you were in front of Leon, arms wound around his neck as you placed an obnoxiously loud, smacking kiss onto his cheek. “Better?”

“You’re getting there,” he said, trying to sound dismissive and unbothered but the smile growing on his face didn’t help.

You shook your head, almost looking as fond as he felt. “Hurry up and kiss me then, Draisaitl, it’s been a million years.”

Leon rolled his eyes, but he happily complied.

…

“That goal in the third against the Kings was hot.”

“You watched?”

“You sound surprised whenever I tell you I watch your games.”

“The game was on at the same time as the Flames game.”

“Yeah but the Flames game didn’t have your grumpy face on the screen.”

…

Leon realised that things had to change when Connor, of all people, was the one pointing out just how long this stupid thing between the both of you had been going on.

Not on purpose, which somehow made the whole thing ten times worse.

The thrill of hate sex hadn’t been a solid excuse for the relationship between you two after the third or fourth hookup. No hate sex was that good to commute for it, no matter what anybody says. And the convenience argument quickly followed, even if the two of you clung onto it with both hands in the early months of the relationship.

And as the relationship grew and bloomed, you both seemed happy enough to ignore labelling it all together.

Which was pretty fucking stupid, when Leon really thought about it. Even more so when Connor was the one connecting the dots for him.

“So.”

Leon didn’t even bother looking up, his gaze focused on his skates as muscle memory took over, looping and tightening the laces on his skates before practice. “So?”

“It’s almost been a year,” Connor said, standing in front of Leon’s stall with half of his gear on and his hands on his hips. “And I respect that you want to keep your privacy but…”

Leon paused, looking up at Connor with his brows furrowed. “What?”

“I thought we were friends,” Connor frowned. “Good friends.”

Leon blinked. “We are? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Connor stared at him like he was the one going crazy. “So you’re going to finally bring her over for dinner on Sunday? Lauren wants to meet her too.”

Leon blinked again. “Who?”

Connor sighed, heavy and exasperated. “Your girlfriend, Leon. The one you have been hiding away for the last year.”

And, in that moment, Leon had come to a handful of realisations that were not ideal to deal with a few minutes before a hard practice on the run up to playoffs. Especially not when it had been triggered by words from the ‘more robot than human’ Connor McDavid.

He hadn’t realised the whole thing between you both had been going on for almost a year. He hadn’t realised the people around him were that observant, that they figured out he had been seeing the same person rather than random flings during the season like he had done in previous years. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to call you his girlfriend until he realised he couldn’t look Connor in the eyes and say with conviction that yes, you were in fact his girlfriend.

Leon realised a lot.

“Raincheck?” Leon blurted out before he could stop himself, filing away the epiphany and Connor’s disappointed captain face to the back of his mind for the remainder of the practice so he didn’t deck it on the ice.

He was the first one out of the locker room after practice before Connor could catch him again.

…

“Hey, you’re still coming over this weekend, right?”

“Uh, yeah, just like we planned. Why? Did something come up?”

“Yes. No! No, it didn’t. I just…I just need to talk to you about something.”

“How ominous.”

…

Leon had probably paced the distance to Germany and back around his living room by the time you arrived, much to Bowie’s displeasure as he watched from his spot on the couch with only slightly judgemental eyes.

In the days since his conversation with Connor, most of his thoughts had been surrounding what he wanted to say to you. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you didn’t feel something for him, he knew you had to or you wouldn’t be driving up to Edmonton every other week to see him. But he didn’t know if you would want more, he didn’t know if you would want a label.

He didn’t know if pointing out the very thing the two of you had been ignoring for the last year was going to completely fuck it up and, selfishly, he really did not want to lose you.

It was almost ironic that you didn’t even knock on the door when you arrived, using the damn spare key he gave you to walk straight into the house like it was normal. Because it was normal for the two of you, it had been normal for months.

And yet, the only thing Leon could say as you walked through the door was, “where is your bag?”

“In the car,” you said as you closed the door behind you but made no move to take your jacket off or even pull your boots off.

Suddenly, Leon felt on edge. “Why didn’t you bring it in?”

You stayed where you were, too far away from him, too far away for him to reach out for you. “Is there a reason for me to bring it in?”

“I—” Leon frowned, his chest twisting uncomfortably. “What? Of course there is. You’re staying the weekend, no?”

“Am I?” You asked, your hands clenched into tight fists by your side. Your voice was shaky, unsure. He had never heard it like that before, and he never wanted to hear it like that ever again. Especially when it came to him. “Because from the way you’ve been acting the last few days, it feels like you are just trying to let me down nicely and it’s—”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Leon blurted out.

You stared at him, lips parted in surprise.

“I—fuck, I had a whole thing I was meant to say before that,” Leon grumbled to himself, shaking his head as he closed the distance between you both. And for the first time in days, his head felt clear as he stood in front of you, his hands cupping your face because he needed to be touching you before he felt like his whole body would explode. “We are so far past this whole convenience bullshit.”

You snorted despite yourself, your lips twitching upwards as your hands reached for him. “Yeah, I think we got past that after the reception lady at the Red Deer motel asked us if we knew we had collected enough membership points to get a room free for a whole weekend.”

Leon didn’t even bother holding his smile back. “I want this. I want you. I want to tell people that you’re my girlfriend.” He paused, his nose scrunching up a little. “Well, not everyone. They can mind their own business, but the people that matter. I want to tell them that you’re my girl, even if you’re a fucking Flames fan, and I’m yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a Flames fan. Not really. Not anymore.”

Leon raised his brows. “Finally joined the better side?”

“My boyfriend put up a really convincing argument,” you said, your hands twisting the fabric of his hoodie between your fingers before you pulled him closer.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a smart man,” Leon murmured, surprised he could even hear himself talk over the sound of his thumping chest.

“Eh, I’m only really with him for his dog,” you teased, laughing as Leon groaned and tugged you closer.

“Brat,” he grumbled against your lips, trying (and failing) to hide the fondness in his voice as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You love it,” you retorted.

Leon’s face softened as he pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah. I do.”

…

“Let me get this straight, you only realised you wanted me to be your girlfriend because of Connor?”

“Shut up.”

“Wow, baby, you got love advice from McJesus.”

“Please stop talking about Connor whilst you are naked in my bed.”

#leon draisaitl #nhl #edmonton oilers #leon draisaitl x reader #leon draisaitl x you #leon draisaitl x y/n #leon draisaitl fic #leon draisaitl smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl smut

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pastrnaks-sainz · 2 years ago

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36 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

Black Tie

Pairing: Connor McDavid x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Every once in a while there was a black tie event hosted by the team that Connor had to attend. As a member of the Oilers organization you also had to attend. You and Connor both hated fake sipping champagne and talking to people you hardly knew. For the past two years that similarity drew you to each other. This year, though, had Connor feeling flirty.

Request: Request #29 with Connor McDavid? 👉🏼👈🏼 (from anon)

Fluff Prompt #29: “Who gave you permission to go out in public looking like that?”

~~~~

It was nearing the point in the evening when your social battery was dangerously close to zero. Like, blinking red about to be stranded in the middle of the ocean with no life preserver, dangerously close to zero. And if you knew Connor McDavid as well as you thought you did, his would be in the danger zone too.

“That time of the night, Y/N?” Zach chirped as you walked past him. You shot him a look and playfully flipped him off as you continued on your way to what would become your safe corner for the night. You sat down and tried your best to look like you didn’t want to jump out the window.

“I see the clock has struck midnight for the both of us,” the voice of your fellow introvert Connor McDavid had you genuinely smiling for the first time all night.

“Thank god,” you sighed as he sat down at the table across from you, placing his drink down in front of him. “It looks like you lasted longer than me this year.”

“I actually think we both tapped out at the same time,” Connor said, looking around for any sponsors he might have to hide from. “There are times I rethink my career choice and this is one of them.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, making eye contact with him. Like always, your stomach fluttered. “This industry isn’t the best if you’re not an extrovert.”

“I genuinely have no idea how Leon does it,” Connor said, looking over to see Leon Draisaitl in the middle of the room somehow managing three different conversations and one of them was in German. “Man is a god.”

“He has to be,” you agreed, shaking your head in awe. “There is literally no other explanation.”

Connor laughed and took a sip of his drink. He swallowed before turning his gaze onto you. Your cheeks heated up to the point you would have sworn your face was literally glowing.

“So what was the conversation that did you in?” with his question the party around you seemed to melt away.

“New camera equipment, believe it or not,” you answered.

“Really?” Connor was surprised. “I thought you loved getting new gear?”

“I do, believe me I do,” you worked for the Edmonton Oilers’ media department. Getting new gear before a season was like Christmas. “But there was just something about it tonight that I could not sit through.”

“Business conversations are the worst,” Connor agreed. “I couldn’t even explain what the one I just abandoned was about. I think it was skate laces? I don’t even know.”

“Who knew these black tie events could be so goddamn boring,” you said, eliciting a laugh from Connor.

“Agreed.”

Connor thought for a second before speaking again. He wasn’t sure if it was the amount of drinks he’d had at the party or if it was something else, but he had a little extra courage that had his threshold for stupidity so far up it was in danger of becoming part of the ballroom ceiling.

“Hey, wanna leave?”

“I’m sorry?” you looked at him in shock. You had been to countless of events like these and ended up in this scenario countless of times before but not once had Connor proposed the idea of ditching. “I know you won’t get fired but I still have my job to worry about.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Connor said as he stood up. Oh. He was serious. “If someone gives you a hard time just point them in my direction. I’ll say you were feeling sick and since I was with you you just asked me to take you home.”

“Alright, I guess that’s believable enough,” you answered and took his hand, allowing him to help you up from your seat.

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79 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

500th

Pairing: David Pastrnak x reader

Type: Smut

Warnings: Oral (f+m receiving), fingering, swearing, protected sex, hair pulling kink, cockwarming 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You knew David was close to 500 career points, but you didn't expect him to reach that milestone in his first game back after being out for three weeks. The good mood he was in when he got home somehow became an even better mood when he saw you in nothing but a pair of heels and his jersey.

Smut Prompt #8: “A beautiful sight, you wearing nothing but my jersey waiting for me” Smut Prompt #15: “Pull my hair”

A/N: I guess this is a part two to 200th. Also i am on my knees for pasta, literally would do anything for him

~~~~

David hummed to himself as he unlocked the apartment door and let himself in. He was in a good mood. His first game back after being injured against Detroit could not have gone better. He didn't expect to score the first goal of the game, but when you’re David Pastrnak anything can happen apparently.

That anything can include coming home to seeing your girlfriend laying in the middle of your bed wearing nothing but a very sexy pair of heels and your jersey. David dropped his bag on the floor, his jaw hanging open. He shamelessly raked his eyes up and down your body.

“What’s all this?” he asked once he found his voice.

“You had a big game,” you responded in the best sultry voice you could muster. “I thought you deserved a little reward.”

“A reward?” David hummed, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He took a couple steps forward and knelt on the bed beside you. His finger tips lightly skimmed over your ankle. “A beautiful sight, you wearing nothing but my jersey waiting for me.”

“I thought you might like it,” you responded, pushing yourself to sit up and meet his lips. David kissed you fervently. You moaned against him, hand coming to cup the back of his head and hold him in place.

You used the leverage you had gained against him to flip him onto his back.

“What’s all this?” he asked, tucking his arm behind his head and watching you get to work unbuttoning his pants.

“You know how a milestone gets rewarded by now,” you smirked, pulling his pants and boxers down. His dick, hard and red, slapped against his stomach. David’s muscles tightened as the cool air of the room touched his tip.

You licked your lips, practically able to see his dick throbbing with want. The man was insatiable, and you were fully prepared to have a long night.

“Y/N, don’t just fucking look at it do something,” David’s voice was strangled.

“As you wish.”

He moaned, loud and long as you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his dick along the vein. He gathered your hair in a ponytail and gripped it tight. You brought your mouth down on him, taking as much as you could. His moans were music to your ears as you bobbed your head up and down. You hollowed your cheeks every once in a while, making him moan a little louder each time.

You knew David’s body so well that you could bring him to the edge and back three times before he started to get frustrated. And it wasn’t through his voice that you knew he was getting frustrated. It was when his hips would not stay still. He kept squirming, trying to find the right position in order to get some sort of relief. But every time he did you changed what you were doing.

It wasn’t until he gripped your hair a little bit tighter that you finally took pity on him. You gripped the base of his dick and gave him short but firm squeezes and alternated between gently sucking his tip and giving him little kitten licks. David’s stomach tightened as he came. His eyes screwed shut and he let out a strangled moan.

“Congratulations, baby,” your voice was hoarse as you crawled back up his body to whisper in his ear.

“You are going to be the fucking death of me,” David all but growled. He kissed you passionately, his lips claiming you as his own. You whimpered and let him push you onto your back. His hands traced your sides before reaching the hem of the jersey. He lifted it over your hips

“David,” you whimpered, snaking your hand into his hair as he lifted your legs onto his shoulders. You felt his breath on your dripping pussy before you felt his tongue. You jumped at the contact before allowing yourself to relax into his ministrations.

He knew your body as well as you knew his. It made sex that much more pleasurable. You squirmed as he switched between licking and sucking your clit and blowing cool air on it. He threw his arm over your hips to keep you still. You moaned louder than you had since he started and tugged on your hair.

David emitted a sound you’d never heard come from him before. He pulled away from your clit and looked up at you with dark, hooded eyes.

“Pull my hair,” he commanded. You shuddered at the sound of his voice but gave the roots of his hair another yank nonetheless. His eyes rolled back and his muscles tightened. “Fuck.”

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81 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

Friend From College

Pairing: Jeremy Swayman x reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Jeremy was quickly adopted by his new Bruins teammates. And that comes with being harassed by Brad Marchand and eventually Nick Foligno until you invite your closest friend down to Boston during Christmas break to meet your new teammates.

Request: Can you do 4 and 43 from fluff with swayman thank you in advance (from anon)

Fluff Prompt #4: “Is that my sweatshirt?” Fluff Prompt #43: “Will you two just kiss already?”

~~~~

Jeremy took a deep breath before walking into the locker room. For the past weeks, ever since Nick Foligno had walked in on him on FaceTime with you, he had been harassed about when he was “going to introduce us to your girlfriend, Swayman?” He was going to need all the luck he could get being around the team whenever there was even half a moment of silence.

“Good practice, Sway,” Patrice greeted him with a nod. Jeremy’s shoulders relaxed. Bergy was one of the only ones to not give him a hard time. Although he didn’t exactly take steps to stop the heckling whenever it started.

“Thanks,” Jeremy returned the greeting, taking a sip of his Dunkin coffee.

“Oh, hey, I have an extra ticket to the game tomorrow if you want it, Stephanie said she’d reserve the seat beside her,” Bergy said before leaving.

“Oh, sure,” Jeremy smiled. “Thanks, Cap.”

“No problem,” Patrice gave Sway a subtle wink before walking out to the equipment room.

Jeremy groaned. He knew exactly who Patrice wanted him to give that ticket to. But you were still in Maine with your family, you wouldn’t want to make that drive all the way down to Boston just for a hockey game. But then again, it was worth at least giving you a call, right?

“If I don’t call her they’re never going to let me forget it,” he sighed and picked up his phone, knowing that if one of the friends he’d made in Boston showed up tomorrow night with that ticket he would never live it down. He was pretty sure their next steps were going to be going through his phone, finding your number, calling you themselves, and telling you they thought Jeremy liked you. And he could never live with himself if that happened.

“Y/N! Your phone is ringing!” your little cousin yelled from the basement. You downed the rest of the drink in your glass before jogging down the stairs.

“Hello?” you answered, not even bothering to glance at the caller ID.

“Y/N!” Jeremy’s cheery voice was on the other end of the line. You smiled to yourself as you stepped into the toy closet to get away from the noise your younger family members were making.

“Thank god you called me,” you sighed. “I’m hiding from the kids. You gotta get me outta here, Jeremy.”

Jeremy’s chest warmed.

“Well lucky for you Bergy just offered me a ticket for the game tomorrow night if you want to come down,” he said, applauding himself for the smooth offer. He knew, though, that if any one of the guys walked in he would instantly crumble.

“Oh my god, please,” you were relieved. “I’m gonna drive down right now. Jeremy you have no idea how happy I am to get out of this reunion.”

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he said. “Let me know when you’re thirty minutes out. You can just come straight to my apartment, I’ll send you the address.”

“You’re a legend, Sway,” you said before hanging up and walking back up stairs.

“Who was that sweetie?” your mom asked as you reached for your keys.

“Jeremy,” you responded. “He invited me to the game tomorrow night. I’m gonna drive down this afternoon. I should be at his place by like eight. I’ll be back here on Monday.”

“Have fun!” she told you as you walked out the door, knowing you were going to take any escape you could to get away from the extended family in town for the weekend no matter what she said.

Jeremy was thankful that his mom forced him to buy one extra set of sheets than he thought he needed when he got home after practice. He was also thankful for his real estate agent for persuading him to get an apartment with a guest room. He set up the guest room before settling down on the couch.

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84 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bloodied and Bruised

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Injury

Summary: Matthew wasn’t usually accident prone, but this morning’s practice had him beat up in more than one way. He’d taken a puck to the knee, causing him to limp for the rest of the day. And he’d gotten an accidental high stick to the face, causing a small but nasty cut just above his eyebrow. You knew it was bothering him more than usual after he begged you to stay with him.

Request: Hi can you write a Matthew Tkachuk imagine with the prompts 37 and 63 from your list where he had a rough practice and gets injured and you help bandage him up. You want to be there for him even though he usually keeps to himself but this time he needs comfort from his girlfriend with some cuddling please. Thank you! (from anon)

Fluff Prompt #37: “Quit being such a baby and let me put a new Band-Aid on your face” Fluff Prompt #63: “Can you- do you want to- please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone”

~~~~

The front door creaked, announcing Matt’s arrival home from practice. You grinned and hastily wiped your hands on the towel you had over your shoulder before tossing it down to the island. When you saw Matt standing at the end of the hallway, shoulders slumped and head down, you knew something was wrong.

“Matty, baby,” you hummed, brows furrowing in concern as you walked up to him. “What happened?”

“Got a little banged up,” he mumbled. You cupped your hand around his jaw and moved his head so you could get a close look at the cut above his eyebrow. A small white Band-Aid was overing it, but a few drops of blood had already seeped through it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you wrapped your arms around his waist, expecting him to push you away like he always did when he was injured. But instead he melted into you, letting his head droop to your shoulder and his hands resting lightly on your hips. You knew the injury was bothering him.

“You’re really warm,” he said, his voice muffled by your hoodie.

“Come on, baby,” you took his hand and pulled him down the hallway to your bedroom. He followed like a puppy dog. You sat him down on the edge of the bed and went to retrieve the first-aid kit from where you’d stashed it under the sink.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he watched you open it and pull out a package of Band-Aids.

“Changing that Band-Aid,” you answered, flicking your eyes up to his cut. “There’s blood coming through it, if you keep it on it’ll get infected.”

Matt pouted up at you.

“Quit being such a baby and let me put a new Band-Aid on your face,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Matt smirked and kept his eyes on you as you carefully peeled off the white Band-Aid and replaced it with one of the new ones.

“All better?” he asked.

“All better,” you nodded and placed a gentle kiss over the Band-Aid.

You turned around, ready to head back to the kitchen to finish making the mac n’ cheese you had started, when Matt’s hand latched around your wrist. You turned around, eyebrow raised in question.

“Can you- do you want to- please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone,” he muttered, hanging his head. Your heart panged. There must have been something more to his injuries acquired at practice that a cut over his eye.

“Did something else happen?” you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him.

“It’s nothing,” he tried shrugging it off. “I just took a puck to the knee, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

You watched as he pulled up the leg of the shorts he was wearing. An ugly purple bruise was starting to get darker.

“I’m gonna go get you an ice pack,” you said, leaving before he got the chance to protest. When you got back you found his curled up in bed, cuddling a pillow.

A smile shadowed your lips as you placed the ice pack on the bruise that was slowly forming on his left knee. The second Matt felt you near him he tossed aside the pillow and wrapped his arms around you instead.

Matty was usually like a porcupine when he was injured, never wanting people around him. You had no idea what caused this change in him but you liked it and you didn’t want it to go back to the way it was. He almost never let you play with his curls but now he was humming in contentment as you raked your fingers through his hair and twisted the curls around your fingers.

276 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

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