#like just give time for a full hockey game between start times???

[avsandflyboys]

Oh wow! I wish I was surprised! Once again, game start notification for the avs/kraken game and the leafs/bolts have a whole half of a period left!! Wow!!! How did they know i wanted to watch this!!

[tojisun]

im shaking in need my god pop star f!reader x hockey player price oh god oh god

EXCLUSIVE: john price (2), goalie for the specgru and a nominee for this year’s vezina, seen holding hands with a budding pop star of the era, five years his junior.

both are seen dining together and walking around downtown after this night's victorious game against the florida shadows. the two seemed to be engrossed in their conversation and are happy with each other.

it is important to note that price had stated two years ago that he was taking himself out of the dating market after divorce with now ex-beau martha castillo, his wife of four years. is he rescinding his statement? when was this relationship formed? did… (subscribe to suns net to read more)

"jesus," john rumbles, his words muffled behind his palm as he sags in his chair. he passes the tablet back to laswell, their manager, and refuses to make eye contact with anyone else in the group.

the team were the first to call him since the incident, the incessant ringing rousing him from his peaceful dream. he stretched his arm out to pluck his phone from the nightstand, careful not to jostle you awake.

in the end, his efforts were futile because your own team reached out to you. unlike the specgru's management team, yours were more prepared for the fiasco, sending threads of emails full of instructions how to deal with the situation.

it's not necessarily a scandal, not with how there were more people reacting in favour of the relationship, but john had always been a private person and he is just not used to how his relationship with you ended up being public just overnight.

it's not your fault, no matter how many times you've told him so. he knew what he was getting into when he pursued you. he told his team, their PR department, and even his parents about what might change. even martha was given a lengthy call, the two of them making arrangements how martha and her new wife could possibly avoid being pulled into the spotlight.

so really, everything's fine. it really is. it's just that you've been ignoring his calls since this all started, running out of his flat with a yelled, "be back!", only to disappear for hours. john is worried.

"lassie’s probably doing work. damage control an' all that—you know how it is in the bizz," johnny says, consoling.

"do you know how the 'bizz' even works, 'tavish?" kyle pipes in.

john hears a choked sound, then an abrupt yelp, before scuffling fills his ears.

great. now his team’s tussling.

“out,” kate’s voice pierces through his thoughts. “you all, out. you’re distracting.”

“but missus!” johnny whines, but he doesn’t get to say any more and john looks up, wanting to see how terrifying kate must have looked like to shut johnny up.

oh, yeah, he thinks. that'd put the fear of god in anyone, alright.

he watches as the team shuffles out, all of them sending him comforting smiles, before he’s left alone with kate and alex. kate sits in front of him. “run it by me again, john. where did she tell you she’d be?"

john licks the back of his teeth, hesitating, but before he can respond, his phone rings. three chirps pass when john was finally able to reach for it, ignoring the bewildered look that alex is giving him—kate, it seems, is not even shocked by how agile john is when it comes to you.

"hello?" he murmurs, turning away from his managers in lieu of privacy. from the reflection of the window, he sees alex look away too, in pretense with john, while kate continues to stare, scrutinizing.

"hi, baby," you chirp with a giggle as if you were not radio silent for four whole hours; the afternoon is about to swell at its peak, the summer sun sweltering from every corner of the city. "i missed you lots."

and just like that, john feels himself relaxing. his shoulders sag in the newfound comfort wafting from within his chest, his bruised lips—he didn't even know he had been biting them in his worry—slipping between his teeth, and his forehead easing from all his frowning.

john feels like he's won another game; like they've defeated the shadows and claimed the cup for themselves already.

"s'alright," he says, a touch softer. "all is well f'r you?"

"all is well," you reply, voice curling like you’re smiling. "i'm gonna do somethin' soon so all i ask is that you trust me, okay?"

"of course," john instantly replies before his mind could even comprehend what you just said. "wait what-"

"okay then. bye!"

the line drops just like that.

"oh god," kate hisses from behind john. john can't quite say he mirrors the sentiment because anything you do is good. everything that you are is bright.

he would trust you with a goal, if he could—you have his heart already, after all.

.

"holy shit!" mactavish shrieks before a phone is shoved underneath john's face.

he goes cross-eyed, blinded by the blue light for a minute, before he is finally able to push johnny's hand away. he plucks the phone from his friend, grunting when the rest of the squad flank him, heads butting his own as they try to get a glimpse of what was on mactavish's phone.

simon begins to laugh while kyle repeats johnny's words.

john can't blame them. holy shit indeed.

it was a new post from you, in instagram. it was a picture he remembers you asking him to take for you from the night before, all coy as you danced in front of him, both of you ignoring the obvious tent underneath his sweats.

"i want a keepsake," you murmured while batting your eyelashes. "please?"

"it's all yours, if you want," john remembers replying, all parched with his need.

"no," you said with a giggle. "a picture's enough."

"okay," he had said with a croak, his eyes blown wide as desire bloats from the pit of his belly.

so here it is now, posted for everyone's eyes in your account, the product of your seduction—you, sitting on the back your legs, stretching out on the bed, clothed in nothing but his jersey for a top—the bold and white-coloured 2 almost covers your whole back—and a black bikini for a bottom.

his eyes flit to the caption: comfy in his shirt. #letsgospecgru

"holy shit," john rasps out loud this time, his need growing teeth.

keller bursts into the locker room. “your turn to post with her merch.” he throws something at john and it is only his reflexes that allows him to catch it with his hands.

he looks at it—it’s a cream jumper sold during the release of your new album. the material is soft, the embroidery so smooth. the logo, even, is beautiful.

say less, he thought, already slipping out of his practice shirt and into the jumper.

.

[image]

pricejhn2: her number one fan #newalbum

[world-of-aus]

This One's For You

Pairing: hockey player!bucky x NHL Photographer! Reader

Warning: Bucky barnes being a heartthrob

Authors Note: another snippet of Bucky and hotshot 🤭

The arena is a buzz of excitement; gold and black line one side, red and blue line the other, the two colors meeting and molding in the middle of each side. You’re at ice-level behind the protective barrier of Plexi-glass as you wait like the many fans for the game to start. Your equipment sits on your chair – a lone stool that has unfortunately seen better days. As you go to get your camera set up you feel your phone vibrate in the confines of your jean pocket.

Plucking your phone from your jeans you see an unread message from Natasha waiting to be opened. A picture of your jacketed back stares back at you, the message below reading,

‘You’d look so much better with your jacket off, a certain right defenseman would agree with me.’

‘It’s cold!’ you shoot back.

‘I left the apartment with you this morning, you have a long sleeve under, black one, remember?”

You curse your roommate under your breath, another message popping up below that one.

‘Take it Off or I’ll personally go take it off!’

‘Shouldn’t you be taking pre-game photos?’

A moment later a photo of Bucky walking in through the backstage of the arena is taking up your screen, he’s wearing a tailored suit, his hair lazily slicked back as he winks at the camera, his all too pink lips curled in a wicked smile. Your heart skips a beat in your chest, your teeth capturing the smile that threatens to break through.

‘Now take it off.’

‘So bossy’ you mutter under your breath as you take off your jacket, your jersey that she gifted you for your birthday now on full display.

‘Happy now?’

Her text takes a while to come in and only then do you realize why when her text comes in with Bucky’s contact attached. A picture of you adorning his jersey pops up a message appearing shortly after.

‘See now that looks so much better! Woops wrong chat..’

You whip your head around trying but failing miserably to find the blonde in question. Your phone vibrates in your hand.

‘Looking Good Hot Shot! Drinks on me after the win..”

‘At least take her to dinner first Barnes.. 😉’

Your cheeks are warm despite the cool air of the arena nipping at your skin as you read the messages transpiring between the two.

‘He didn’t mean it like that Tasha! Besides he’d need to secure a win against the Rangers first.’ is your odd lame of an attempt to dust away any feelings between the two of you your friend is trying to make appear out of thin air.

‘The win was in the bag the second you stepped foot into the arena Hot shot, you wearing my name was just an added bonus, oh I totally meant it like that but can the drinks be on you instead?’ 😉'

‘With all those puck bunnies sporting your last name throwing themselves at you I doubt you’ll remember, but given the chance you remember drinks can be on me.’

“Stop sabotaging yourself.” You jump slightly, hand on your racing chest as you look over your shoulder finding Natasha, her gear tossed over her shoulder, lanyard laid against her chest. She gives you a pointed stare, “you and Barnes have been doing this same old dance for some time now and it’s getting tiring y/n.” She shakes her head at you, “Not like that, this whole will they won’t they, we’re rooting for the two of you y/n. He’s not Brock,” she murmurs her hand reaching out for yours. “He’s reaching, barring his hand to you – you just need to meet him halfway and trust that he’ll catch you, we all know he will, we’re all just waiting for you – he’s waiting for you.”

You suck in a breath at her words, she knew where your uncertainty came from when allowing yourself to feel anything for the bruin's player, “but what if he doesn’t, you saw how -” you shake your head not willing yourself to go back there.

Both your phones vibrate in your hands but you only see yours,

‘Not letting you back out now hotshot because the only bunny I’ll be chasing is you tonight, hopefully the drinks taste as sweet as you.’

Natasha’s grin is evident as she closes in on you one arm going around you as she hooks he chin on your shoulder. “You see!” she points at the screen you still look at. “You’re not wrong about all the puck bunnies sporting his name wanting an inkling of his time, but he only has eyes for you, let him know you see him right back y/n.”

She’s grinning squeezing your arm as she reads your reply,

‘Hope you run just as good as you skate Barnes.’

Natasha throws her head back on a laugh as you pocket your phone reaching for your camera as you get into position the announcements popping up on the screen. “This game just got so much better!”

Red and blue lights flood the arena, the sea of Rangers fans standing tall, getting loud as their teams players flash across the screen. The players glide onto the ice from their opening, circling the arena as they hype their crowd. You’re quick to take notice of a few of the players lingering on your side egging the opposing teams' fans on. It’s short-lived as the screen changes, shades of black and gold flashing, the Bruins players coming onto the screen. The crowd behind you roars in excitement Natasha joining in as you lift your lens, they come in fast and hot as they circle the arena in the same manner. You’re quick to get shots in rapid succession, focusing in on a few personal shots at the player’s that are closest to you.

You spot Sam, the camera finding him easily as he does what he does best. He always gets a kick out of warming up the crowd, getting them riled up for the game. It puts him in the headspace he needs to ensure his team a win. Your camera spots Steve next, he’s gliding closer to where you and Natasha are, a grin pulls at your lips, heartwarming for your friend who gets herself closer to the glass. You capture the moment he comes to a stop in front of the Plexi-glass his gloved hand pressing against where her’s already rests waiting. You lean back a bit to get both of them in the shot you know Natasha would be requesting that photo by the end of the night.

“Kick some ass out there Rogers, give me something to celebrate tonight.”

The dirty blonde taps the glass throwing a wink her way, “Good luck out there Stevie!” you call out, as he turns to skate to where Sam is. A tap on the glass has you turning your head in the other direction, the crowd seemingly getting louder as Bucky approaches you from the opposite side of the glass. You bring your camera up to capture him, a breathtaking smile cutting his lips as he stares at you through the lens of your camera. You notice he doesn’t get as close as Steve does, but he only has eyes for you as he glides across, “this one's for you hotshot!”

“Good luck out there B!” You hide your smile behind the lens of your camera capturing the grin that splits his lips before he’s turning to the call of his name.

The referee's whistle kicks off the game, and its as good of a game as Natasha said it would be.

You don’t set your camera down for a single second of the game as you focus on the players on the ice and capturing ‘the shot’. You’ve managed to dodge a few pucks and players that have flown your way into the glass. It’s fast paced, brutal even as both teams fight to secure that win.

It’s down to the wire now, the crowd is tense as they watch their teams leave it all on the ice. Your cameras resting against your chest, Natasha gripping your hand in hers as your eyes follow the players. “C’mon c’mon, bring it home!” she pleads. You catch the moment Steve begins his move for the winning shot, your camera coming up to follow the game behind the lens of your camera. Bucky and Sam stay in Steve’s line of sight as he passes the puck to Sam, Sam then glides forward Bucky just a few feet off to his side to get the puck from the left defenseman. Capturing the moment Sam makes the pass, you hold your breath as Bucky swings, the buzzer sounds a split second after, the roar of the crowd loud behind you as Natasha jumps into your side her own yells of victory loud in your ear.

“He did it! Y/n he fucking did it!!” She screams shaking you.

You can’t find your voice as your camera shutters away, but the way your heart races, the smile parting your lips gives way to the emotion filling your chest.

“C’mon let’s go!” Natasha urges pulling you along to get the two of you out onto the ice.

You thought the excitement was palpable behind the glass, but it’s electric out on the ice with the celebrating team. You’re capturing as many images of the teams victory as you can before Natasha spots the guys urging you on. You let her go capturing the moment Steve gets her in his arms, the kiss the two share between them. You find Wilson next he’s all smiles at you and your camera as he glides towards you. You lower the lens momentarily to let him pull you in for a bone crushing hug, “you guys did it, I’m so proud of you Sammy!”

His lips press to your head, “it was all for you hotshot, I’ve got to say when your boys determined, he’s determined,” he grins as he pulls away to look down at you.

“It wasn’t just for me, it was for the fans, for the team.” You lamely argue.

His grin only grows, “yeah? Tell him that then.” And then he’s gliding off to the side towards where Natasha and Steve wait. Bucky stands feet away from you grin on his lips, his hair a sweaty mess, your camera comes up. Each shutter brings him closer to you till you have no other choice but to lower the device and take all of him in. He’s barely got his arms open enough before you’re eating up at the last foot between the two of you your arms going around him.

“You did it B, you won!”

His arms wrap tighter around you, his nose buried in your hair, “I told you hotshot, this one was for you and I meant it.”

You lean back taking in the right defenseman, there’s that smile, the one you always find directed at you. “You did, didn’t you,” you breathe unable to look away. “Guess the drinks really are on me tonight.”

He chuckles grin splitting his lips further, “don’t think that’ll be the only thing on you tonight,” he murmurs pulling you closer, his head lowering to yours, he stops just before his lips brush yours. “you gonna let me catch you hotshot?”

“Yeah B. I think I am.”

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 9th-15th 2024

I cannot wait for the Christmas holidays!! Only one week of work left!!

Complete

All The Lights Are Coming On by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt)/ @sharpbutsoft (Post-S8A, Christmas | 1K | General): What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic?

from here on out by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Eddie comes back from Texas | 1,5K | General): Eddie’s been back from Texas for three days, and Buck’s not done being giddy about it.

the sweetest possible lie by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Future Fic, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): Chris’s fifteenth birthday falls on a Tuesday, and it couldn’t be more different from last year.

i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams) by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Christmas, Eddie goes to Texas | 2K | General): It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls. Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

You don’t have to outrun the bear (I’ll fall over for you) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “What the hell was that?” Eddie demands, standing up from where Buck just pushed him onto his ass. “It was gonna hit your head!” “So, what? You thought you’d just volunteer yours instead?” Eddie scoffs. “Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “I have a hard head.” Or, 5 + 1 times Buck stood between Eddie and danger, much to Eddie’s befuddlement.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (85K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

Chapter 21. eddie on plane (Post-S8A, 3K)

Mr. Movember by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Hockey AU, Established Buddie | 4K | Explicit): “Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh as they got ready for their game on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. “I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. “Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. “Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. “If you manage to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me and my mustache.”

slide it in, right to the top by oklahoma/ @queerdiazs (PWP, S8A | 4K | Explicit): “What’s it like?” he asks softly. Buck tips his head to the side and meets Eddie’s eyes, lazy and buzzed and pretty. “What’s what like?” Eddie swallows, face prickling red with heat, and says, “Fucking a man.” The worse taste weird on his tongue, foreign but good. Welcome, like it’s time or something. “What’s it feel like?” - After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting.

‘Cause I Need Touchin’ So Primal by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S8E6: Confessions | 9K | Explicit): “Hey,” Buck says warmly into the phone, tucking it between his shoulder and ear with a smile at his lips. “Fuck,” Eddie muttered harshly into the phone, his voice rough through the receiver. “Eddie?” Buck called out, frowning. He lowered his phone from his ear to check the call, and yeah, still connected, full reception. He raises it back to his ear and catches the tail end of a noise, a choked-out groan. “Are you okay?” “Buck,” Eddie panted, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. “Buck –” Grabbing his keys, Buck makes it to the loft door, jacket half on when he stops dead in his tracks, phone still pressed to the side of his head as he hears Eddie in his ear. “Yes, Buck, yes, yes, please, yes –” *** Or, Eddie accidentally, sort of, maybe has phone sex with Buck for roughly five seconds, and Buck spirals about it until Eddie finally ends up in his lap.

now i don't hate california after all by jaekyu (PWP, Getting Together, Eddie comes back from Texas | 10K | Explicit): Eddie’s been waiting for months. He can wait a little bit longer.

🔥 Somethings Said (to turn you inside out) by taegyungie (Post-S8A, PWP | 12K | Explicit): Eddie tilts his head. “Why are you being so weird, Buck?” It’s funny to Buck that Eddie has to ask; one finds out his ridiculously hot best friend is now also sleeping with men, one begins thinking about sleeping with said ridiculously hot best friend. It just makes sense, right? So it almost offends him, a little bit, that Eddie is the picture of cool right now. Has seeing Buck in such a deliberately sexual context not altered Eddie’s brain chemistry, too? Does Buck need to update his Grindr profile? or, Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it.

🔥 bad luck to talk by jaekyu (FWB, Misunderstandings | 14K | Explicit): Just before Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he’s pretty sure they’ve been building up to this for months. Just after Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he realises he’s deeply misunderstood this entire situation. And Buck? Well, Buck didn’t even think they were dating. (Aftermath, and then: the road less travelled, with the benefit of hindsight.)

at this fork in the road (I want the path that leads me to you) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas | 24K | Teen): It is at that moment that Eddie realizes that he has a choice. There are two roads ahead of him. Two paths. Two potential futures. One with Buck at his back, and one with Buck eight hundred miles away. Eddie knows which one he wants, but he just needs to be brave enough to ask for it. OR: In one series of events, Eddie asks Buck to come with him to Texas, in another he doesn’t…but whatever steps they take, Buck and Eddie always find their way to each other and bring Christopher home.

WIP

Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 4/? | 24K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

can’t fight the moonlight by coldbam/ @coldbam (Werewolf Buck, Canon Divergent | 1/2 | 10K | Explicit): “Apparently I stole his very special mug,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “I know you guys keep saying he’s all bark, Buck’s a real sweetheart, but I'm starting to worry you all just have terrible judge of character,” Eddie half-jokes. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “What the hell is his problem?” “Full moon tonight,” Chimney says with a smirk, chewing his gum like he’s proud of himself for that joke. * Or, everyone works at a wolf sanctuary and Buck is a werewolf.

Snickerdoodles of Longing by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S8A, Demi Eddie | 1/2 | 14K | Mature): Eddie piles up all his baking supplies and tells him, “All yours. Whatever you want to make. I’ll get more of anything if you need it. We should have plenty of flour though. I got you five bags.” Buck’s head snaps toward him. “Five bags? You got me five bags of flour? The little two pound ones, right? Or the five pounders?” “No, the tens. Like that one.” “You bought me fifty pounds of flour?” “You’re the one who decided his coping mechanism for loneliness was snickerdoodles and sourdough. I’m just being supportive. Since you’re my wingman and I’m yours or whatever you said when you stole my tablet and my realtor call.” Buck smirks. “More like saved your call.” More like saved Eddie’s everything but who’s counting? ~ Eddie decides he needs to move to Texas and slowly unravels as he comes to terms with how he really feels and what he's losing.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 9/? | 55K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

[inuyashaluver]

can you write a jessie x hockey!r, where r gets into a fight during one of her games and jessie is watching from the stands with some of the chelsea players? thx

cheeky - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which your girlfriend brings her friends to her cheeky girlfriend’s game

warnings: jessie still plays for chelsea!! let’s pretend ucla offers women’s hockey 🫠 swearing, mentions of a fight, suggestive

a/n: you guys don’t understand how much this request has infiltrated my tiny brain, thank you you so so much, my love, enjoyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie were quite literally some of the nicest people alive. every time someone was around the two of you for either a short or long time, they came out feeling lighter, happier and all round just more positive.

you and jessie just radiated love, a special bond between the two of you that was just undeniably beautiful.

—

you and jessie met at a college party years ago. you both went to ucla yet never crossed paths until this party. you weren’t really a party goer and neither was jessie, you both found refuge in the backyard of the house you were at.

both of your friend groups had unknowingly ditched you and you both wanted some air, away from all the drunk frat boys and sorority girls.

“sorry, do you mind if i sit here?” you ask the brunette where she sat on a small bench. her head snapped up from her phone at hearing a familiar accent. canadian.

“oh, yeah, go ahead!” jessie stutters, scooching over a little and patting the spot next to her. you smile at her gratefully, sitting down with an exaggerated huff.

jessie lets out a laugh when you sat, both of you looking at each other with bright smiles. you both thought the other was breathtakingly gorgeous, feeling like the party was a little worth it at this point.

“you sick of seeing people basically fucking each other everywhere too?” you ask her with a shake of your head, your eyes falling on a couple making out in a way that should definitely be behind a closed door.

jessie chuckles, looking down at the cup in her hand and nodding while taking a sip of it. “that and my friends ditched me” she rolls her eyes, you nudge her shoulder with yours, “mine too, don’t worry” you grin, making her return one shyly.

“i’m (y/n) by the way” jessie smiles, repeating the name in her head that she would surely never forget.

“jessie” you smile at her, pink cheeks a little evident on the both of you when you made eye contact again.

“sorry if this is weird but are you from canada?” jessie asks nervously, your eyes widen comically, your face brightening at the girl's question.

you didn’t really have many friends from back home who came to the states for college. sure there was a bunch of canadian girls at college but none of them were this pretty. or this easy to talk to.

“i am! don’t tell me you are too?” you question, jessie smiled at your excitement, her heart beating quickly at your glistening eyes. she nods, making you start rambling with where she was from.

you both continued to chat and it was scary how much you had in common.

the conversation was full of laughter, shared jokes and most definitely a shared attraction. “so, jessie, what do you do besides being an environmental warrior?” you say cheekily, the girl scoffs, slapping your thigh gently and rolling her eyes,

“i play soccer” she mocks, you give her an impressed smile as she explained how good she really was, “mhm, i should come and watch you sometime, superstar?” you flirt, giving her a charming smile that had butterflies swarming in her stomach.

you’d both gone far from friendly conversation, the flirting taking over after about 2 hours of you familiarising yourself with each other.

“yeah, maybe you should, and you? miss number solver?” she teases back, referring to you doing an accounting degree.

“i play hockey” you move a little so you could face her better and she does the same, although, her face has a shit eating grin on it.

“what’s so funny?” you narrow your eyes at her, “you’re so canadian” she laughs, you shake your head as she throws her head back in laughter, clearly enjoying how you’re not even defending yourself.

she encourages you to talk about your sport and to say she fell in love with you there was an understatement. you spoke with so much passion she really loved to see and hear it.

you also admit you fell in love with her when she talked about her sport, but even more with how intently she was listening to you, soaking in every word you said and clarifying things she didn’t understand.

you both felt something bubbling under the surface as you talked, so much so, when the party started to filter out, she asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and who were you to decline?

the teasing and the flirting throughout the whole night was so unbearable, you asked her out on a date without a second thought, smiling brightly when she accepted without any hesitation.

you both began to date after a few months, becoming one of the ‘it couples’ around campus when everyone could truly tell how much you were in love with each other.

you went to each other’s games with bright, adoring smiles, wearing each other’s jerseys with pride.

you had study dates together, most of the time getting distracted but neither part was complaining.

you were there for each other throughout all the ups and downs, talking and listening to one another for hours and somehow feeling not enough when you were with each other every second of the day.

you’d both established a career before you even graduated college, star athletes in the making in your respected sports.

you’d do anything for each other, so much so you moved with her to england when she signed her contract to chelsea.

—

while jessie played for chelsea, you still continued to play hockey in england also. it was hard being away from home but jessie made it all better.

your continual support for each other offering a sense of security that nothing else could. it also helped that you both represented canada nationally, often getting the opportunity to go home together.

—

the chelsea girls knew you too well, you came to every single game without fail with a bright grin on your face in the ‘fleming’ jersey that was almost worn as much as your own.

“your wife’s here” niamh teases as she warmed up with jessie before a match, the two of you weren’t married, or engaged even, not yet at least but this didn’t stop niamh from wishing you were, knowing how much her best friend adored you.

“where?” jessie grins, stopping all movement and frantically looking for you, niamh directs her head to where you were sitting in the friends and family section and her heart swelled with pride.

you wave at her brightly and she returns it instantly, her face growing warm at the smile you sent her, snapped out of her trance at niamh’s laugh. “such a sap” she smiles, jessie just gives her shoulder a little shove, continuing to warm up.

when the match was over after an easy win, jessie bounded over to you without a second to waste. “hi, baby” you smile as she walked into your arms, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care.

“hi, gorgeous” jessie says breathlessly, pulling you into a sweet kiss with her hand on your cheek. you smile against her, your own hand on the side of her neck, your thumb brushing against her skin gently.

“my superstar” you say as you pull away, brushing away some stray hairs from her face before pulling her into a tight hug.

“gotta impress my wag, baby” she says cheekily, kissing your cheek repeatedly to make you giggle, working successfully like it did every time.

“i’m definitely impressed, baby canada” you smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips as you pulled away slightly.

her hands make her way to your waist, rubbing up and down gently as you chatted, only lasting for a couple of seconds before you ushered her to interact with the fans.

“i’ll see you at home, beautiful” she winks, pecking your lips before running away, shouting a quick “i love you” over her shoulder that you quickly returned before leaving to drive home.

—

you had an upcoming game, an important one at that. you’d been nervous about it all week, jessie frequently having to calm you down so you could breathe. you were the captain, both for this team and the canada team so a lot of pressure fell on your shoulders.

the only reassurance you had was knowing jessie would be there, even inviting some of her teammates to come and watch you since they had the day off.

jessie wasn’t one to miss an opportunity where she got to ogle her talented girlfriend and show you off at the same time so she was extremely excited.

the morning of, let’s just say it was extremely difficult to get you out of the house.

“what if i fuck up?” you whine, turning from the door and walking back to jessie who was watching you from the doorway. “you won’t” she assures, pinching your cheek softly before turning you around and giving you a soft push to the door.

you turn back around, “what if something goes wrong?” you say nervously, “baby, you’ll be fine, we can deal with it” jessie chuckles, you throw your head back in annoyance.

the people who only knew you from hockey would be shocked to know you did this before every game. they’d be shocked to know how soft you were when it came to your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to go” you groan, jessie draws you in by your waist, her arms wrapped around them securely, “baby, you’ll be amazing, like always” jessie says earnestly, her brown eyes looking directly into yours so you knew she wasn’t lying.

“but you don’t know that” you pout, jessie quickly smiling before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“i’m your girlfriend, i know everything” she says cheekily, pecking your lips a couple of times and managing to pull a small smile out of you.

“you go do your best, that’s all i want from you” she smiles, her hands now cradling your face as your arms wrap around her. “okay” you breathe out, determined.

smiling before pulling her into a breathless kiss that made both of you feel dizzy, sharing a quick i love you before she had to physically push you out of the house, knowing you’d convince her to stay.

—

jessie made her way to the arena in your jersey, your number written neatly tiny on her cheek. she was accompanied by niamh, zećira, aggie and hannah.

to say jessie got teased the entire time was an understatement but she didn’t care, she had no shame with the amount of love she had for you.

when you skated out on the ice with the ‘C’ over your heart, you had no ounce of nervousness at all. a complete contrast from the morning.

the truth is, on the ice, you were ruthless, completely contradicting how you were off the ice.

you carried yourself with complete confidence, expecting nothing but the best. you were a little rough but one of the best players and everyone knew it. you didn’t take any bullshit.

you were strategic, smart and calculated. you knew what you were doing and you were the captain both in this league and nationally for a reason. a team leader without fail. a role model, a borderline legend.

jessie and her friends cheered loudly for you when your name was announced on the loudspeaker. jessie watched as you waved around the arena before locking back in, skating around the ice in preparation for the game.

jessie was on the edge of her seat the entire time watching you, scoring 2 points in a short amount of time. you were playing exceptionally well, jessie’s heart swelled with pride but she was extremely nervous how this one player kept trying to rile you up.

she knew you didn’t take any disrespect and knew this girl was about to get her ass handed to her.

the girl was being overly physical with you and you would counter it every time. she was the other captain and knew she’d get thrown into the box if she tried anything too much. her behaviour was surprising.

but the girl continued, having the nerve to be near you every time with something to say every two seconds.

you’d ignore it, having dealt with people more annoying than this but it flipped when she started talking about jessie. your jessie.

she started with the insults about you until she said, “is your girlfriend some sort of puck bunny?” you fucking lost it.

you dropped your stick and both of you break out into a heated fight. fists flying before you grabbed her by her shirt, slamming her into the glass and spitting out words that we’re definitely not family friendly. jessie’s eyes were so wide in shock, never really seeing you in a fight like this before.

“talk about my girlfriend like that again and i’ll shove the puck down your fucking throat” you exclaim, getting pulled back by the referee and getting told to go to the penalty box.

you send a glare to the girl and she falters almost instantly before you skated to the box. you sat down with a huff, arms crossed over your chest as you watched your team dominate the other.

jessie shook her head while she looked at you, niamh and zećira cheering you on throughout the fight and even more now that you were in the box.

when your ten minutes was up, you played the rest of the game with passion, finishing with an easy and well deserved win. jessie ran down to where the change rooms were, her teammates waiting nearby.

jessie watched as you skated off the ice, catching your breath as you quickened your pace to jessie. her face was etched with worry as you approached, watching as you took off your helmet hastily and took out your mouth guard.

“hey, baby” you say brightly, bounding over and wrapping jessie up in a hug, your face instantly tucked into the crook of her neck, your cold nose brushing against her warm skin.

“for someone that just beat the shit out of someone, you’re very happy” she says amusingly, her arms wrapping around you without hesitation.

“she deserved it, trust me on that” and jessie did. you pull away from her at arms length, a cheesy smile plastered on your face as you looked at her.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearly laced with worry, you nodded, kissing jessie’s cheek tenderly as you drew her a little closer.

“i’m fine, love, especially since my biggest fan is here” you grin, “you should see the other guy” you laugh as jessie slaps your shoulder lightly, “cheeky” she chuckles, pulling you into another tight hug in absolute relief you were okay.

you could tell she was on edge because of the circumstances, the hug telling you everything you needed to know. you hugged her tightly, letting her find solace in you and honestly calming you both down.

you wave over at her teammates when she pulls away and chat with them excitedly. you held onto jessie’s hand the entire time you all chatted, thanking them for coming and watching.

“what does that say on your stick?” niamh questions, you smile, moving your hand to show that you’d written jessie’s name with a little heart next to it on your tape, a tradition for you ever since you’d started dating.

“good luck charm” you grin, both of you getting teased for your bright pink cheeks. you say goodbye to them before they leave, turning back to jessie with a sweet smile. this is the side of you she knew the best. an absolute softie.

before you get changed, you draw jessie into another kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against her when she whined against your mouth.

you give her an amused expression, seeming as though she was a little riled up about the whole situation. “shut up” she groans, pushing you away by your chest slightly but you came right back, pressing a sweet peck to her lips,

“i didn’t say anything” you mumble against her, squeezing her hips gently before you ran to the change room, wanting to get back home as quick as possible.

let’s just say violence is never the answer but is excusable only for the way your girlfriend reacted to you when you both stepped through the door of your shared apartment.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: you wouldn’t know she beat someone up 10 minutes before this but here we are

view all comments

yourname: so worth it

↳ _jessflem: really was actually

niamhcharles17: your girlfriend’s got a crazy fist on her but is SUCH a softie

↳ yourname: watch it niamhy

↳ _jessflem: biggest softie ever

↳ yourname: you’re supposed to defend me

↳ _jessflem: i love you?

↳ yourname: yeah. whatever. i love you too.

[misctf]

Coach's Curse

Jason could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he propelled himself on his skates. He expertly navigated between his opponents, doing his best to tune out the cheering crowd and the shouting of his teammates. And as Jason reared his hockey stick back and fired the puck forward, he felt as if the world went still. He watched as it sailed through the air- as the goalie attempted to block his shot. But as he watched the puck find the back of the net and the buzzer sound, he could barely believe it.

Jason immediately was tackled by his teammates, all of them cheering and yelling in celebration. He did it. He scored the game winning goal. The championship hockey game- and he scored the game winning point. The next part was a blur. He was in the locker room with his teammates, all of them still basking in their victory. Jason beamed as the victory cowboy hat was placed on his head. There were plans for a big party later that night with a few of the frats and sororities on campus. And Jason couldn’t be more excited. As the winner of the game, he was sure he’d get a few girls in bed that night. But as he thought about the night ahead of him, his coach told everyone to quiet down. As per game tradition, Coach Henderson was giving them a victory speech. But something about the speech was off. It was almost somewhat... dull. Maybe even a hint of sadness. Jason ignored it, thinking it was probably just coach getting all sentimental. Besides, it had been 15 years since coach’s last victory.

“Jason,” His coach’s deep voice boomed through the locker room, “I have your game winning puck in my office. Come with me.”

Jason smirked and followed Henderson out of the locker room and down the corridor lined with old jerseys as his team cheered him on. He remembered his first walk down these halls when he was a freshman, excited to start his time on the team. He never imagined that his college hockey career would end like this.

“Oh Jason.” Coach Henderson mumbled as they entered his office, “I never thought I’d see this day. It’s been so long.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” Jason smirked, “We fucking did it.”

Henderson frowned, “You know all those years ago, I didn’t know what to make of it. When I stood in this very room.”

“Yeah but it’s all worth it. Doesn’t matter if it took you fifteen years or whatever to get another one.” Jason frowned as something cool passed through him.  

Coach smiled slightly, “At first it didn’t feel like I had a choice. But I think I’m going to miss it.” He took a deep breath, “You see, many years ago the real Coach Henderson put a curse on the team.” The room was silent, with Jason standing and processing the odd statement.

“What are you talking about?” Jason chuckled, “This some kind of joke?”  

“It was to teach a douchebag on the team a lesson. But the curse continued even after that.” Jason shuddered as he felt more cool air pass through him, “The winner of the championship game, to prevent them from becoming too full of themselves, would have to become the team’s coach. And lead them to victory.”

Jason could barely process the words as his whole body started to shake violently. He tried to tell Henderson that he wasn’t feeling well, but the words couldn’t leave his mouth. The whole world was starting to spin now and he fell to his knees, shivering as the coldness around him became unbearable. But that’s when he noticed it. He raised his hand and looked, inspecting it closely. The skin of his hand looked more weathered, lighter even. He raised an eyebrow as he watched the hair on it become lighter in color as well.

“I wasn’t always coach.” Henderson said as he raised his hand. Jason’s eyes widened as he watched coach’s hand become more tan, the weathered appearance disappearing, “My name was AJ. But fifteen years ago I scored the game winning goal.”

Jason was unable to respond as the feeling in his skin intensified. He fell to his back and writhed as his body started shifting. He could feel the changes moving up his arm and he forced himself to watch as his biceps expanded at first with muscle. This was soon followed with a thick layer of fat- while the skin became more weathered and tired with age. He looked at his changed arm in horror, feeling the new skin and fat with his other hand.

‘This doesn’t make sense!’ He thought, a feeling of dread passing through him as he saw his other hand begin to change, ‘Curses aren’t real! This isn’t real!’ He looked up at Henderson, who’s arms had lost their fat, replaced instead by strong muscles- muscles that put Jason’s old ones to shame.

And that wasn’t all Jason noticed. Coach’s belly shrunk. And Jason quickly learned what that meant for him. His stomach start to grumble, the sound becoming more and more intense. He looked at Henderson with desperation, silently pleading for help, but found his coach frowning at him. Jason let out a belch and a thin layer of fat covered his lean abdomen and chest. Another belch and now a slight pudge graced his features. And with each belch Jason’s abdomen expanded and expanded. And with one final loud belch, Jason could feel his stomach reach its final size. At the same time, his lean chest pushed out with fat and muscle, jiggling slightly as he moved. Jason cringed at this foreign feeling. At this new heaviness that he never appreciated in his life. Ever since he was young, he was lean and in shape. Years of practice and playing hockey gifted him with his physique. And he shuddered at the realization it only took a few minutes to reverse that entirely. He pushed himself into a sitting position and watched as his gut fell into his lap. Jason placed a hand on his belly and frowned. It really was his. It was real. He looked up at Henderson, who was running a hand over his perfect abdominal muscles. The two met each other’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Henderson whispered, running a hand over his head as blond locks started to sprout.

Jason copied the motion, running a hand through his black hair and knocking his victory hat off. As his hand moved through his hair though, clumps of it began to fall out and disappear into nothingness. At this point, a few tears fall from his eyes and onto his plump abdomen. He cherished his hair- always making sure to style it and keep it well maintained. He loved when chicks ran their hands through it. But now it was gone, replaced by the same buzz cut that Coach Henderson sported. And as he looked up at Henderson, who’s neck fat receded and face became more angular, Jason knew that his face was changing. Fat filling his angular face. His neck disappearing under a layer of chub.

“I know I shouldn’t brag.” Henderson- or AJ said, feeling his face with a grin, “But it really feels nice to be back.” He rubbed at the goatee that still adorned his face, which quickly began to fall away with each touch.

Jason’s hand shot to his new face and frowned as he felt hair sprout from his upper lip and chin. He liked to be clean shaven. But just like that, his face was now adorned with his new facial hair. And that’s when he noticed an itchiness move across his chubby body. The small amount of body hair he did have already started to fill in more, blanketing his chest and flabby belly in a nice coat of hair. He watched as his treasure trail grew with hairs sprouting along the sides of it. It crawled up his abdomen until it reached his chest, which then erupted in a dense layer of hair before expanding out and coating the remainder of his chest. Jason rubbed a hand through it, wincing at the feeling. And as he looked down at himself, still trying to process that this was real- that this was him- AJ extended his hand.

“Here coach.” AJ said calmly. Jason frowned and grabbed AJ’s hand, allowing the younger man to help him up. As he stood up, he shuddered as his ass jiggled with its new padding, “I know this is a lot to process.” AJ’s voice was less gruff now, a youthful tone now escaping his lips, “But I’ve told you what you need to know. You’re Coach Henderson now, at least until some other poor guy wins the championship game. But until then you’ve gotta coach them, got it?”

Jason’s eyes were wide, unable to fully process any of this. He was going to stay stuck like this? Until the team won a championship? It took fifteen years... would he be like this for the next fifteen years?

“No fucking way.” Jason winced at how deep and gruff his voice had become, “No, turn me the fuck back. I just won the game. There’s no way...”

“No, I just won the game.” AJ replied, placing the victory hat on his head, “From this point on, Jason never existed... at least until the next time this team takes home the championship. People will think I won the game tonight.”

“But my friends? My family? What...?”

“Everything will return to normal when you lead the team to victory, okay Jason? Until then, you have all the tools you need. All the basic memories to get by day to day.” AJ smiled, “Use those memories of who you were to motivate you. That’s what I needed to do. But from this moment on, you’re Coach Henderson. It’s easier if you accept that.”

Before Jason could reply, his former teammates called out for AJ. The hockey star gave Jason a smile and a nod, before heading out to celebrate his victory with the team. Jason could only stand there, in the quiet of his new office, the thrill of his victory turning into despair.

_______________________

Coach Henderson yawned as he pushed himself out of bed, careful not to wake the naked bear of a man sleeping next to him. He trudged through his apartment, scratching at his hairy chest and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As he walked, he kicked a few beer bottles out of his way, barely acknowledging the messy state of his apartment. He plopped down at his computer, looking over briefly at a team photo. One where AJ proudly stood with their championship trophy. A photo taken about 16 years ago. Henderson turned his attention back to his computer, looking at the roster of new players that would be joining the team for the season. They looked promising- maybe just maybe this was the year.

He quickly shut his laptop and yawned- he always thought that. That hope that this year would be the year. Why should he think this year would be different? He stepped into his bathroom and looked at himself over in the mirror. Sixteen years looking like this- didn’t matter if he shaved, exercised, drank- his appearance remained unchanged. He let out a belch and frowned. He barely remembered his life as Jason or what he used to look like. It got to a point where he was starting to wonder if he was ever anyone else. And he stopped even thinking of himself as Jason. And maybe that was for the best. He could feel the magic that changed him feeding off his doubt, cementing itself. He wondered what would happen if he just let it completely win.

“You could...” A voice whispered in the back of his head, “Live the rest of your out as me.” It echoed, “Become me fully.”  

Henderson shook his head, and those thoughts became quieter. But soon another voice filled the room. One asking how he was doing and if he was excited for the year. One belonging to another man, who wrapped his arms around Henderson and gave him a kiss. A man that Jason would’ve never considered, but as Henderson couldn’t help it. And so maybe if this year didn’t end in victory, Henderson would have to take the voice in his head up on its offer. Maybe that was all he would need in the end to win anyway.

[writingonleaves]

write me into your thoughts (i'll be safe with the words on the page) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x amelie fishel (reckless driving au)

warnings: swearing, not proofread nearly enough lol, not much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: "on the page" by maggie rogers

word count: 15k

author's note: hi everyone! thank you for your patience. i had a wonderful time writing this one - it's always fun digging into jack and amelie's relationship. this is a part two, so if you haven't already, please read part one here! please let me know what you think and flood my inbox with all your thoughts!! worlds like this only come alive with you all, so any feedback you have, i'd love to hear it. i hope you enjoy❤️

taglist: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added)

amelie

Their first official date happens later than both Amelie and Jack would’ve liked.

They have to postpone it twice. The first is because Amelie is assigned to cover an Islanders pre-season game last minute. The second is because Jack forgets that he has a thing with Hockey in New Jersey until the night before. Both of them wanted to get away in Prague with just each other for a few hours but it proved to be too complicated, both with the actual scheduling and wanting to keep it on the down low from the team, especially because they’re not really anything yet and she just started the job and he respects that.

The Devils had asked her to tag along with some of the guys even on their off day to compile some sort of photo collage. They didn’t really give her many instructions, so she took that as an invitation to be creative. She switched between disposable, digital and film and had a lot of fun doing it, tagging along as they did touristy things and enjoyed each other’s company during meals. 

At first, she was a bit intimidated at inserting herself into a group of guys who had just met. It took her the first full season of covering Michigan hockey before she even felt comfortable. But Curtis Lazar specifically took her in, introducing his family to her and treating her like an uncle would. Amelie just let the guys riff off each other while she snapped pictures whenever it felt right. Whatever she did, the team seemed to like, and that’s more than okay with her. 

(She got some awesome pictures of a few of them on film that she didn’t necessarily think are the best to put out to the public but she thinks they or their families might appreciate them. She saves those, and vows to herself to try to do that as much as she can, making sure that her love of photography doesn’t just boil down to her job. 

She has more than a few pictures of Jack, whether purposefully or not. They’ll be of use someday.)

The time they got to really let loose was the night after the second game, with everyone in high spirits after winning both games against Buffalo. Amelie had squeezed Seamus for an extra long time when she first saw him after the game and everyone was dressed to go out. 

Both of them being rookies as Wolverine alums. It’s kinda touching. At least, everyone else thinks it does. Amelie does too, really, but she’s just trying not to fuck up at her very new and very cool job. The sentimentality of it all hasn’t quite hit her yet.

She’s trying to ignore Jack’s eyes that seem to always be on her. Right now, she just needs to focus on Prague and then deal with whatever that is when they get back to Jersey. 

The day after the Devils home opener, she gets a text from Jack.

Jack Hughes

is today finally the day?

Amelie Fishel

i’m free! are you?

Jack Hughes

;)

just got out of morning skate 

lunch? and we can walk around after?

or would you rather do dinner?

Amelie Fishel

lunch sounds good

you want me to pick a place?

Jack Hughes

i got it 

11:30 okay? i’ll pick you up

Amelie Fishel

that’s perfect 

see you soon!!

Amelie swallows as she looks into her closet. It doesn’t really matter. Jack’s seen her going-out outfits as well as her lounging at home fits. But she wants to feel good and comfortable because she doesn’t really know what to expect.

She’s surprised Jack has seemed to be so receptive, even though she’s the one who messed it all up that July night. 

With a white sweater and black leggings on, she ties a black ribbon into her hair and takes a deep breath, just as her phone buzzes. 

Jack Hughes

what’s your apt #

Amelie Fishel

6A

She spritzes her perfume on just as she hears a knock on her door. She grabs her bag, slips on her boots and goes to open the front door. 

Amelie swallows as she opens the door. Jack looks up from his phone, quickly slips it into his pocket, and smiles sweetly. He’s wearing an olive green jacket over a white shirt, tucked into blue jeans. His curls look good and she takes a deep breath.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hey.” She looks down at the singular pink tulip in his hand.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, walked past the floral shop like, a block away from here? And I just..thought of you.”

“Oh,” she mutters softly. “Thank you. Let me put it in a vase and then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “Take your time.”

Amelie fetches a mason jar and cuts the stem so that it’s proportionate. After admiring it for a second as it sits on her kitchen table, she walks back to the door, making sure she has her keys. She debates reaching for his hand, but she doesn’t, as they walk towards the elevator. 

She notices that he leaves some distance between them as he leans his back against the wall. She must be giving him a look without realizing, because he lets out a nervous laugh. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“How?”

“I don’t know!” She vaguely gestures. “Why are you so…quiet?”

He laughs, and she smiles at the sound. “Sorry,” he says genuinely. “I’m not trying to be…I just don’t wanna mess this up again.”

All humor washes away from Amelie’s face as her stomach churns, watching Jack fidget. “I’m the one that lied to you, Jack,” she says softly. “You have nothing to make up for.”

“Maybe,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t do things wrong either. I wanna do it right this time. I’m sorry if I’m being weird.”

She can’t take it anymore, scooting herself closer to him and intertwining their hands together. Immediately, he squeezes them.

This might be their first official date. But she thinks she’s been his for awhile now, Even when they weren’t talking. 

In hindsight, Amelie knew that lying to Jack, even if it was only for a few days, was the wrong move the second she did it. It took talking to her sisters, some friends and fucking Ethan Edwards for her to stop beating herself up about it so much and focus on moving forward and making it better (“if that’s something you want to do,” Ethan had added over the phone when she was close to hyperventilating. “You have endless chances to make up for lying. It’s obvious he still cares about you. You just need to do something about it. He’d forgive you in a heartbeat, Ami.”) 

She had convinced herself that Jack wouldn’t want to hear her out, and that working adjacent with his team would just be filled with polite exchanges and nothing more. But then they locked eyes at Media Day and he caught her trying to get herself together and told her that he’d always say yes to her, whatever the fuck that means. 

They’re walking out to the parking lot when Jack tugs their hands to a light stop in front of his car. He opens the passenger seat door, but pauses. She turns to him in confusion. 

“You okay?” He asks, eyebrows pinched in concern. “I lost you for a bit.”

She tries to smile convincingly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Amelie, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he swallows. “If you-”

“No,” she says firmly, slipping into the seat. She’s not gonna let misunderstandings come between them again. “I want to do this. I’m just…freaking out a bit?”

He starts the engine before turning towards her. “Yeah, yeah. I get that. It’s just me though.”

She huffs. Because that’s partially the problem. She changes the subject. “Where are we going?”

“Clee likes this place called Elysian Cafe? I think it’s French.”

Amelie hums. “Sounds good.” She looks over to him. “Who knows this is happening?”

“The date?”

“Yeah.”

“Luke and Clee, obviously. Quinn. Probably Nico through Clee. Or me. I probably mentioned it to him. Why?”

She shrugs. “Just want to know what I’m working with.”

“Who knows on your end?”

“Just Col and Char,” she chuckles slightly at the memory. “They’re the ones who convinced me to try again in the first place.”

“Then I know who I have to thank,” Jack smiles. “You-I hope that’s okay that I told them?”

She shrugs. “They’re your siblings. Or dating one of them. I wouldn’t have any right to feel upset, especially because I did the same thing.”

“But you work with two of them.”

Right. Yeah. Part of the reason they had their whole misunderstanding in the summer. She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m trying to get over that hump for myself. But it’s not something neither of us can control, I guess.”

He becomes quiet, before, “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that before, like, why that mattered so much to you.”

She blinks as they wait at a light, the turn signal flicking being their only soundtrack. “That’s okay. I lied to you, so we were both in the wrong.”

“But you did it for good reason and I didn’t see that at the time,” he runs a hand through his hair. 

Amelie swallows down any doubt and leans over to kiss Jack lightly on the cheek. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

One side of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk. Amelie doesn’t even roll her eyes. “So how’s the start of the job been? Busy?”

“Very,” she settles back in the seat. “But good. Media day was nuts, as you saw. Prague was really fun. Pre-season was good but crazy. I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon.”

“Have you been able to explore Jersey much? Or go into Manhattan?”

“Not really,” she admits. “When I do have free time I’ve been unpacking and sleeping. I’m on duty for the Rangers when you guys are on the road trip though so maybe I’ll have more time to explore the city then if I’m not too tired.”

He pouts slightly. “What am I supposed to be telling everyone? That my girlfriend works for the enemy?”

“I work for your team too, loser,” she shoots back, before hesitating. “Girlfriend’s a bit presumptuous, no?”

“It is,” he admits. “But I’m hoping by the end of this date and however many more that I can make it an easier decision for you.”

Amelie’s half stunned at his boldness. But then she remembers that they have kissed multiple times. It just feels different without the fragility of summer and Michigan. It feels different in New Jersey. Almost forbidden. But she knows those are just boundaries she’s put up all on her own.

She tries to push that down. She can’t keep getting lost in her own head. Jack’s right here. “How about you? Season starting out okay? Is that a stupid question?”

He chuckles. “Season’s good, I think. Prague was definitely very fun. I don’t know. You don’t wanna look too ahead, you know? Just focus on the next few games. Work on what you need to work on.”

Amelie can’t help but snort. “Very diplomatic of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you spit that out to a journalist earlier?”

He sputters, “You asked!”

She chuckles. “I know.”

When they reach the restaurant, they’re not even sitting down at their table yet when Amelie’s skin prickles up. She can feel someone watching them. She’s proven right when a young teenager politely asks for a picture right after they get seated. The interaction takes all of 30 seconds but Jack looks so apologetic afterwards.

“I’m sorry,” he says after the boy walks away. 

“It’s all good,” she replies sincerely before grinning with a light shrug. “I know you’re a big deal.”

“Still. I don’t-”

“Jack,” he shuts up immediately, looking at her like she’s the only person in the world. “It’s fine. I promise.” They both thank the waiter as he fills up their glasses. “How is everyone? Luke and Quinn and Clementine and all them.”

“They’re good,” he says, automatically more at ease talking about his family. “I mean, you see Luke so you know. Quinn seems to be doing well up there with the Canucks. Just start of the season stuff. And Clee’s good. Really busy at the hospital so I’ve barely seen her, to be honest.”

“Do you like living with them?”

“I love it,” he replies honestly. “Living with both of them is like, I don’t know. It feels like childhood again. But we’re all grown up and not as stupid as before. Well, me and Luke. Clee’s always been smart. But no, it’s fun living with them. I’m not sure how long it’ll be until Clee moves out so I’ll take what I can get.”

“She’s moving out?”

Jack shrugs. They both order — mussels to share for an appetizer, a burger for him and fish tacos for her. He waits until the waiter walks away. “She hasn’t said anything yet. But her and Nico are getting pretty serious. I mean, I guess they’ve only been dating for, like, 6 months, but I could see her moving in with him sooner rather than later.”

She hums. “How do you feel about that? Like, them being together. It has to be a bit weird, right?”

“It can be,” he drums his fingers on the table. “Last season, I joked a lot about it. But then it actually happened and it was like, woah, my older sister is now dating my captain and two parts of my life are combining in a way that it hasn’t before. But they’re pretty good at like, the separation I guess. Not that-I really like them together. I think they’re actually really good for each other. He calms her down and she knocks some sense into his head.” He chuckles and Amelie realizes how much she loves that sound. “I would’ve introduced them earlier if I’d known how good they would be together.”

“I can’t imagine living with either of my sisters, to be honest, even if I love them.”

“Why is that?”

“I think I need my own space.”

He hums, and before she can overthink about how that may come across, he switches topics. “So what did you get up to the rest of the summer?”

Overthinking about how I left things with you is the honest answer, but they don’t need to get into that. “Not much, I guess. Packed. Hung around. Saw some friends. Went to a concert.”

“Who did you see?”

“I don’t know if you know her. Lizzy McAlpine?”

“I don’t. Text me some of your favorite songs from her later. I’ll listen to them.”

She chuckles. “I don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“What’s your favorite song by her?”

“Uh uh,” she teases with a wry smile. “You don’t get to have that information yet.”

“I’ll earn it,” he says, a bit too seriously for their topic of conversation. “So, concerts. You know, everyone usually comes by to New York City. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch some people there.”

“You an expert on NYC?”

Jack shrugs. “Not really, considering, you know, all this. But when we have a few days off I like to go in. I have some spots I enjoy a lot.”

“We should go in sometime and you can show me your spots.”

His lips spread slowly into a grin. “Yeah?”

She nods, looking down at her lap. “Yeah. Whenever I get my feet under me.”

“It seems like you’re handling everything just fine,” he says.

Amelie lets out a laugh as she leans back. “I’m really good at faking it.”

“Luke misses you.”

“I just saw him yesterday.”

“No, I know, but like, just hanging out with you. He’s started bugging me about the three of us hanging out like we did in Michigan.”

“We’re not in Michigan anymore.”

“Sure, but what’s the difference?”

She’s saved from answering as their food comes. 

Lunch is delicious and fun and light and Jack is exactly how she remembers from the summer, even if the October chill is settling in and they’re not in the MIchigan sunshine anymore. Seeing Jack against the windows of a cafe in Hoboken, looking at ease, at her, nothing has changed between them. But also, so many things have. 

She wishes she could fully enjoy and let go of … whatever has been in her gut since she hid her sobs in her hand at her grandparents’ house. Jack has been doing everything right and she’s trying to enjoy herself. 

(She’s scared)

They decide to walk around for a bit after they eat, not wanting to leave each other’s company quite yet. They’re walking through a park and admiring the empty fountain when Jack laughs. 

“Uh oh.” 

She’s confused. “What?”

Jack chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. You look like you’re about to say something that you don’t think I’m gonna like.”

She blinks. Fuck. “Am I that obvious?”

“No,” he admits. “Lucky guess. Or maybe I just know you. Spill. What’s going on in that pretty head?”

She stares at her shoes.  Be brave, she tells herself. “Can you-can we take this slow? I-I know that we aren’t really starting from step one but I-I,” she trails off, trying to steady her voice.

“Hey,” he mutters softly, pulling her to the side of the path so they don’t block people. “I was kidding earlier about the girlfriend stuff. I don’t care about that. I care about you and whatever pace you want to go at. Or no pace if that’s something you also want to do.”

“And you’d be okay with no pace at all?”

She stares at his adam's apple bopping up and down. “If that’s what you wanted. I’m obviously not, not gonna force you into anything you don’t want to be in. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He chuckles weakly. 

She realizes suddenly that Jack actually thinks there’s a chance of her turning him down. A chance of her saying she doesn’t want anything to do with him, which is definitely not the case. She knows she wants him. She just doesn’t know what that looks like yet, which is why:

“We can take it slow?” She asks. 

“Whatever pace you want,” he assures. “Whatever you want.”

“And the team?”

“What about the team?”

“Well, they’ll have to know, right? I might not work for the Devils directly but there’s a conflict of interest there.”

“They don’t have to know anything,” he assures. “Definitely not yet. Once they do, we’ll figure it out together.”

She bites her lip, because yeah, that sounds nice, but he’s untouchable in the grand scheme of things. She’s much more disposable in comparison. “Jack.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he repeats. “I promise.”

And promises have never really meant much to Amelie. But the look in Jack’s eyes is so comforting and insistent that she can’t do anything but believe him.

*****

jack

It’s getting colder now, as it does in early to mid October in Jersey. Jack rubs his hands together as he locks his car. He has the day off today after playing the Caps last night and Amelie also has the day off. The plan is to spend a day in New York City. He hasn’t heard from her this morning, which is a bit unusual, but that doesn’t phase him as he enters the elevator and then stops in front of Amelie’s apartment. 

Three crisp knocks and he’s shoving his hands in his coat pockets and rocking back and forth. It takes upwards to a minute before the door is cracked open. The automatic smile on his face quickly drops into a concerned frown when he sees her. 

“Are you okay?” 

Amelie, hair messed up, in a Michigan t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, responds with three consecutive sneezes. “Shit,” she sniffles. “I thought I texted you.”

He closes the door behind him and lets himself in her apartment. “What happened?”

“Woke up feeling like crap,” she coughs into her elbow. “Coughing, sneezing, a bit of a sore throat. I think it’s a bad cold.”

“So no frolicking to the city, I assume?” He jokes lightly. 

Her shoulders deflate. “I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to it..”

“No stress,” he assures gently. He untangles her crossed arms and squeezes her fingers gently. “Go lay down on the couch.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

“Do you have things in the kitchen to make soup?”

“No?” She blinks. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

He hums. “Okay. I’ll run to the store. Do you have medicine?”

She blinks again, her brain catching up. “You don’t have to stay. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m staying. Do you have medicine?” He repeats. She nods. He presses a kiss on her forehead, another wave of concern washing over him as he notes how clammy it is. “Hang tight, baby. I’ll be back soon.”

“You really don’t have to stay.”

“I want to,” Jack swallows. “If you really want me to go, I will. But you’re not feeling well, and I’d like to help out.”

A few seconds of silence before Amelie nods, rubbing her nose. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll be quick.”

It takes 30 minutes for Jack to grab ingredients from the note on his Notes app for a basic chicken noodle soup recipe that his mom sent him way back in his rookie year, some cough drops, extra cold medicine, and call Clementine in a panic to check that he isn’t forgetting anything (“She probably just needs to sleep it off,” Clementine says, traces of Nico’s voice in the background). Jack had grabbed Amelie’s keys from her counter when he left so he lets himself back in quietly, finding Amelie laying down on the couch. 

“Hey,” he announces himself with a soft voice. Amelie just lets out something between a groan and a sigh. “That bad?”

“No. I’m just being dramatic,” she pouts, scrolling through Netflix. “I wanna watch something but I know what. Do you have a preference?”

Jack starts unpacking the bag in her kitchen. “You’re the one who’s sick. I’m fine with whatever.”

“Have you ever seen La La Land?”

“I have not.”

“Of course you haven’t. We’re watching it. It’s my comfort movie.”

“Gimme, like, 15 minutes?” He asks. “I need to prepare the soup.”

“Sure,” she yawns. “I should probably take a shower.”

“You’ll definitely feel better.”

She lets her hair out of her hair tie. “Just tell me I look like shit next time.”

He gives her a look, shaking his head. “You never look like shit.”

Amelie scoffs lightly with a small smile, getting off the couch. “Sure, Jack.”

“Shoo,” he flicks his hand. “Delicious chicken noodle soup coming to you soon.”

17 minutes later, the soup is simmering on the stove and Amelie walks back out with damp hair. She coughs heartily and winces, coming to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water. “It smells good.”

Jack almost beams. “Thanks. An Ellen Weinberg-Hughes specialty.”

She hums. “Movie time?”

“Well, it’s one of your favorites. So we have to.”

When they get to the couch and Amelie presses play, he hesitates. He wants to put an arm around her and let her snuggle against his side, but he doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable. As the opening number starts, he doesn’t have to overthink it any longer, because she pulls the blanket over both of them and leans the side of her head against his shoulder. He swears she can feel the smile on his face when he kisses her temple. 

Two hours later, two empty bowls are on the table in front of them, there are tear streaks on Amelie’s face and Jack is a bit confused. “That’s your comfort movie?”

“Yeah. Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he blinks. “I’m just saying that it seems pretty sad to be a movie that comforts you.”

She shrugs. “It’s sad, but it’s also life. And it’s beautiful. And it’s about moments and how sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be. It’s realistic.”

He hums in affirmation. “Not a dreamer, eh?”

“I wish I was more of one,” she admits. “Sometimes I feel like I’m limiting myself because I don’t want to dream too big because I feel like I’ll inevitably be disappointed.”

“I don’t think you could disappoint anyone,” he rushes out. 

“It’s not about what other people think,” she says with a light cough, staring ahead at the TV. “It’s about what I think of myself.”

And, well, yeah. Jack knows that feeling all too well. 

“You’re doing awesome, you know?” He says, trying to offer some encouragement as they face each other, knees barely touching. “I mean, I’m not going to pretend I understand every aspect of your job, but I’ve heard from Josh and, just from seeing how hard you work and how much you care about it, especially because you’re new…don’t stress out about it. You’re doing great.”

“You think?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases. 

One side of her lips quirk up, as she tilts her head to the side in thought. “I guess it wasn’t really my professional life I was talking about with the whole dreamer question.”

“So your personal life?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. La La Land is so heartbreaking but it’s also, at its core, a story about love and dreams and…” She trails off, avoiding eye contact with him. 

Jack swallows. Guess he’ll be the brave one. “So you’re a romantic.”

“Is that surprising?”

“A bit. But not in a bad way.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever let myself really believe that I am one, if that makes sense.” It doesn’t, but she pays him no mind, a furrow in her eyebrow indicating that she’s piecing her thoughts together. “I think for awhile, I just convinced myself it wouldn’t ever amount to anything. So instead of ever, I don’t know, thinking that I would find someone who really just likes me for me in that way, I figured no one ever would. Which sucks, because I’ve always wanted that.”

He wants to say so much, but nothing comes out of his mouth except for an affirming hum. “The movie was great.”

She blinks, a smile spreading on her face. “You think?”

“Yeah. But you should sleep,” he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t conk out during.”

Her lips turn into a pout, “I usually would fight you, but I don’t have the strength.”

“Bed or couch?”

She yawns, already leaning her head on a pillow. “I’m not moving.” Before Jack can think about what he’s going to do, she makes grabby hands in his direction. “Nap time.”

“Me too?”

“You have other places to be?” She asks, eyes already closed. 

He tucks himself next to her and pulls the blanket over them both. “Nowhere but here.”

(“Thanks for coming today,” Amelie says hours later, leaning her hip against the doorway as Jack’s about to head home. It’s already 10 p.m., and he has practice tomorrow morning. 

“Do you feel better?” He asks. She nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“But what if you wake up tomorrow and you’re sick? Still gonna like me then?”

And he knows she’s half-teasing, but he ducks down to leave a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Of course.”

She hums, rubbing her eyes. “And thanks for the soup. I’m gonna have enough to last me for days.”

“That was the idea.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Am I gonna see you Friday?”

“Unless I get worse, then I should be there,” she nods, before wrapping her arms around his waist. “See you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Wait,” he turns back around as she leans her head on the doorway. “‘Staying.’”

“Hm?”

“That’s my favorite Lizzy McAlpine song. Or one of them.”

“‘Staying?’ That’s what it’s called?” She nods. He tucks that into the back of his mind. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Night.”)

amelie

It’s been a crazy month of ups and downs, but Amelie isn’t lying when she tells her family that she loves her job. 

Sometimes she feels a bit out of her element, like when she can’t get a good angle on a shot no matter how hard she tries or when the dynamics of being a part of a professional sports organization (and sometimes, with the teams she covers, it feels like multiple organizations in one) are harder to figure out than usual. But then the familiar sounds of a game flood through her ears and she reaches up to touch the ribbon in her hair — switching between red, orange or blue depending on what team she’s shooting — and she takes a deep breath and feels okay again. 

More often than not, if she’s at the Rock, she catches Jack’s eye, or a glimpse of his hair, or even just the 86 and it brings her a sense of calm. 

They don’t interact that much at work besides hellos and some stolen short conversations here or there. She’s usually busy running around during pre-game and then he’s playing when they’re actually in the same proximity. 

She has a moment after shooting an Islanders game and then getting the notification that Jack had just scored in a game against Colorado in their arena. Before she leaves the parking lot, she clicks on Jack’s contact anyways, waiting to leave a voicemail. 

“Hey, uh, congrats on the goal. Unsure if you win since the game is tied as I’m calling, but hope you guys pull it out. I don’t really know why I’m calling, to be honest. I was just thinking about you. I think we both have a day off right when you get back to Jersey, and I was wondering, if maybe you’d wanna go into Manhattan finally? Let me know. I’ll see you when you get back. Okay, bye.”

(She wakes up the next day to see she has a missed call and a voicemail from Jack

“Hey Baby. I guess I could’ve waited to call you in the morning but I didn’t want to wait. We won, by the way. And yeah, I’m totally down to go into the city when we both have a minute. I, uh, we’ll catch up when I get back. But it was really nice to hear your voice, even if just over a voicemail. Have a good day. Bye.”)

They don’t get to go to Manhattan when Jack comes back, because Amelie is asked to fill in last minute for a Flyers game. She feels like she’s more bummed about it than Jack is. Or at least outwardly. In fact, after that voicemail, they don’t really get a chance to talk until four days later, when Jack catches her at The Rock before the game against Washington.

He grabs her arm lightly and leads them to a small alcove. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she can’t help but smile. “Good skate this morning?”

“Good as can be. Bummed we couldn’t go into the city the other day.”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he hesitates, before: “Hey. What plans do you have after the game tonight?”

“Nothing?”

“Come over to mine after,” she opens her mouth but he barrels on. “Clee’s working late and Luke won’t bother us. I just, I don’t know. I feel like we haven’t been able to see each other. And you have to head over to MSG tomorrow afternoon, right? We can grab breakfast somewhere, then.” 

Amelie opens and closes her mouth two times. “You don’t think it’s too soon for me to stay over?”

His eyes widen. “Shit. I didn’t even-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t-I wasn’t, like, I don’t expect anything. I can sleep on the couch. I just figured it would make it more convenient because we’ve been missing out on seeing each other lately. I’m gonna be tired after the game anyways and I was thinking we could just put something on TV or-”

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

She nods before she can back out. “Yeah. I have an overnight bag in my car in case I ever get stranded somewhere and need to crash.”

“You sure?”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “You brought it up first, Jack. You backing out now?”

“No, of course not. But the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s fine,” she says. And it is, really. But now that’s all she’s going to be thinking about for the rest of the day. “Seriously. It’s good. Your bed better be comfortable.”

He barks out a laugh. “It is. Great. I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be around. Good luck.” With one last smile, he ducks out of alcove. She takes a breath, tugging at her jacket, before making her way out as well. 

Kennedy, another photographer that strictly works with the Devils that Amelie’s become fast friends with, chuckles. “You’re not slick.”

Amelie lets out a small scream, before rolling her eyes. “Fuck, Kenny! A warning next time would be nice. And it’s not anything.”

Kennedy snorts as they both walk down the hallway. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously, it’s just…we’re figuring it out.”

The older girl softens. “Hey, I was just making a joke. It’s none of my business. You guys are adults.”

“It’s something,” Amelie admits. “But I just don’t quite know what yet.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Kennedy assures. “I’ve known Jack longer than I’ve known you. I know you’ll figure it out. Now, Candace just brewed a fresh pot of coffee and we need to grab some before everyone comes in.”

They’re almost too late, because Coach Keefe has just poured out his cup and Kennedy rushes over to take the carafe out of his hand as he laughs. One day Amelie will get the confidence to do that. 

“How are you settling in?” He asks Amelie kindly as Kennedy hands her a mug.

“Pretty well,” she says. “Still trying to get used to the chaos of the season but it’s been great and everyone’s been awesome.”

“I imagine that’s even more difficult when you have a bunch of schedules to balance.”

“It can get tricky,” she shrugs with a smile. “Keeps the job fresh though.”

“I bet.” A few seconds of comfortable silence sipping their respective coffees before Coach continues. “You went to the University of Michigan, right? I think I’ve seen you wearing that maize M around.”

“I did.”

“My niece is a junior in high school and thinking about doing something with sports, whether it’s business or photography or communications, probably because she’s been surrounded by the ice her whole life,” Coach Keefe laughs. “Earlier this season, Luke was talking to her about Michigan and I think he got her hooked.”

Amelie has to laugh at that. Classic Luke. “Well, I’d be happy talking to her if she wants a perspective from someone who wasn’t an athlete.”

“Would you really? I’m sure she would appreciate that.”

“Yeah, totally,” she fishes out a business card. “She can text me anytime. No promises I’ll respond too quickly, but I will as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Amelie. Truly.”

“Of course, Coach.”

He turns back to Kennedy and jokes. “You must hate her, huh?”

Kennedy, who went to Ohio State, rolls her eyes. “With her, Shea and Luke, I feel constantly outnumbered here.”

“Don’t forget Jack,” Coach Keefe said. 

“Oh, we don’t,” Kennedy chuckles. Amelie simultaneously wants to roll her eyes at her unsubtly and slap her shoulder. Instead, she settles with a look, to which Kennedy pointedly ignores. 

After morning skate and editing what she needs to edit, Amelie heads to the grocery store for a quick run before stopping by at home to relax for a bit. She decides at the last minute to grab a bouquet of mums to put in her kitchen. After unloading her groceries, she tries to tidy up around her apartment but ultimately gives up, collapsing down on the couch. She has around an hour to kill before needing to get redressed to head back into the rink. 

What does she do with that hour? Lounge around on her couch and pick up the latest book she’s reading. A memoir that AJ, the head of Devils socials, recommended. She hasn’t read as much as she used to, due to everything changing, but snuggling into her couch even just for a little to flip pages in a book calms her down. 

When it’s time to go, she’s about to walk out the door before she stops herself, heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. That seems reasonable to give to Jack who’s inviting her over as a thank you gift, right? 

After the game, that’s when she starts getting nervous. She edits the photos she needs to, sends them to Josh, the guy in charge of Devils media, and then lingers. She drove here, but she doesn’t wanna beat Jack to his place. She starts drumming her fingers against her desk, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. She knows he also got tagged for doing media tonight too, which explains why he’s taking a bit longer. 

“Hey.”

She practically jumps out of her seat, putting her hand over her heart. “Jesus, Jack.”

“Jumpy,” he comments with a smirk before leaning against the door frame. “You good to go?”

“Yeah. Was just waiting for you.”

He grimaces. “Yeah. I should’ve given you my keys so you could chill at mine instead of here. Sorry.”

She stands up, gathering her things. “It’s fine. Can you send me your address again? I think I know where it is but I wanna make sure.”

They walk out together. People are milling about but no one questions anything. Amelie doesn’t know how she feels about that. Her phone buzzes, indicating Jack texted her his address. She’s parked on the other side of the garage but he walks her to her car anyways with a shrug, but it means a lot to her. She follows him easily to his apartment, the GPS guiding her along the way and when she parks right next to him, he somehow beats her to her own door and opens it for her. 

“Thanks,” she says quietly, getting her overnight backpack from her backseat. “Do you mind if I bring my camera bag into yours? I don’t want them to get cold or-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he grins, tie thrown over his shoulder and dress shirt wrinkled. He looks so handsome. “You’re not you without your cameras. You want me to grab something?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she says, locking her car. “Good game.”

“You think?”

“You got two assists and a few shot good attempts at goal,” she says with a furrowed eyebrow. “I’d consider that good, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just, I didn’t think you paid attention that much.”

She nudges his hip with hers as the elevator pings for each floor. “It’s kinda part of my job.”

“Is it?” He shoots back. She just rolls her eyes. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks. 

“A bit. Have you?”

“A bit,” he echoes. “I was gonna roast some veggies and make some rice. I think I have leftover chicken. Unless you want something else? Clee probably has a bunch of stuff in the fridge that we-”

“That sounds perfect,” she interrupts him. “I’m good with anything. Promise.” She waits for him to unlock his front door. “Do you mind if I jump in the shower first?”

“Not at all,” he swings upon the door. “You can just leave your stuff in the living room. Bathroom is the second door down the hall to the right.”

She quickly rummages through to grab her toiletry bag and her pajamas. “Do you have a towel I could borrow, by chance?”

“Of course. We have a bunch in the closet in there. Take any one you see.” She nods in thanks before heading to the bathroom. 

After towling her hair dry and tossing on an UW Madison sweater on she stole at some point from Colette ages ago, she pads out. Jack’s in the kitchen, back towards her, humming as he squats to check on the veggies in the oven. He’s changed out of his suit and has a Devils sweatshirt on now with gray sweatpants. His hair is damp from the shower he must’ve taken at the rink. 

He catches her staring, but to her gratitude, doesn’t say anything. She lifts up the bottle of wine she got from her bag. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to have this during the season but…”

“One glass won’t hurt,” he grins. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me into your home,” she comes over to the kitchen and takes the bottle opener from his hands. “I’m not an animal.”

Dinner is simple, but it’s delicious, and in the last hours of the evening with dim lighting, both their voices are low. At some point, Luke comes out for a glass of water, entering and leaving in a flash with a salute. That should feel weird, but it doesn’t. The not-quite-a-couple-yet couple catch each other up on their days and lives and Amelie feels a ball of warmth in her stomach. 

It’s as if the clinking of Jack washing dishes — he literally whacked her hands when she tried to help — brings her out of her reverie. She waits until he’s done and sitting next to her again before:

“Hey Jack?”

In the middle of sipping his wine, Jack raises an eyebrow. He places his glass down and leans his elbows on the counter, giving her his full attention. “What’s up?”

She tries to stop fiddling with her hands, folding them on the counter. “Are-are you seeing anyone else?”

Silence, and then a soft, disbelieving, “What?”

Her mouth starts moving faster than her brain. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Nor would I blame you, to be honest. I mean, I’m the one who’s been moving so slow and setting the boundaries and the pace and like, I get it. But-”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone else since we met.”

Her mouth snaps shut. “You-”

“I haven’t even been remotely interested in anyone else since I saw you and Suzie at the end of my driveway,” he says, eyes steadily staring into her, unflinchingly honest. “Even when you haven’t been sure about me. Even though you’re still not sure about me. Even when we had our argument. My feelings haven’t changed.”

Amelie suddenly feels ashamed. “Oh.”

One side of his lips quirk up. “Yeah. Have you been seeing anyone else?” Before she can control herself, she snorts. Jack pouts slightly. It’s cute. “What?”

“I barely have time to see you. In what world would I be seeing anyone else?”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up in defense. “I don’t know what you’re doing when I’m on the road.”

She shakes her head, staring down at her nails. “Nope. No one else.”

“Then that settles it.” Something flashes through his eyes and he rounds the corner, hoisting himself to sit on the counter. His leg brushes her side. “I’m sorry for not making that clear.”

“I’m sorry for being psycho and possessive.”

He tuts softly. “You’re not being either of those things.”

Her eyes glaze over, unfocused, as her mind takes her elsewhere. “It took three months for Cooper and I to officially get together because he was still dating around after our first date. Which was fine. It really didn’t bother me at the time. But-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Jack assures. “But no. There’s been no one else for me.”

She swallows, busying herself by pouring herself out a glass of water before coming to stand inbetween his legs. She leans her forehead on his chest because she doesn’t wanna look at him when she asks her next question. “How much did Ethan tell you?”

“About Cooper?”

“Yeah.”

“Enough.” She picks her head up as he lightly rubs circles on her wrist. 

“Did he tell you why we broke up?”

“Not directly,” he leans his forehead on hers momentarily. “I’d like to hear your answer to that though, if you’d be willing.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, and chokes out, “He got tired of me.”

“I’m sure he-”

“He told me, word for word, that he got tired of me. Tired of waiting. For what? I have no fucking idea.” And fuck, it’s been well over a year since she blocked his number, but she can’t recall the breakup out loud without a crack in her voice. “Apparently he’d ‘wasted’ a year of his time on a relationship that had long run its course.”

“And had it?” Jack asks gently. “Had it run its course?”

“Maybe. But it wasn’t fair to me that he didn’t even give me a chance to fix it.”

He nods stiffly, before, “Absolute jackass.”

“Definitely,” she hoists herself up on the counter to sit next to him, careful to not spill any wine. “When we broke up, it wasn’t like I didn’t see it coming. Things were kinda rough for a month or so beforehand. But I didn’t expect for it to hurt so much. I-I felt, just, really sad. Kinda betrayed. Pretty angry. I definitely didn’t think it would fuck up my perspective on relationships as much as it did.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She almost brushes off his apology, staring unfocused into his living room. “I wish I didn’t feel this way. But when I met you, one of the first things I thought was that it wouldn’t move past the summer because what was the point? You would get tired of me eventually.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know that sounds ridiculous and whiny and it’s not true, but it’s hard for my brain to believe that. If I wasn’t enough for Cooper when we were in school and just dealt with that schedule, what would happen between you and I with our schedules and careers? That’s ultimately why I shut you down in the summer, I think. But also, fuck, Cooper was kinda an ass.”

He cuts in with a loud snort, “Clearly.”

She whacks his shoulder lightly, before letting out a sigh. “You know, he showed up at a party I was at a week later with another girl.”

“Yeah. Ethan mentioned that.”

“Right. It was a hockey party.” She squeezes her eyes shut, as if that will erase her memory. “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this, but I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin and also scream my lungs out and lock myself in the bathroom and never come out. It kinda fucking sucks seeing a guy you thought you loved and loved you suddenly just throw it all away like it meant nothing. Because if he could do that so easily, who’s to say the next one won’t?” She downs the last of her wine, sighing deeply. “I’m working on remembering that I want to be in a relationship and I deserve it, but it’s really hard. I don’t blame you if you don’t wanna stick around as I’m trying to figure it out.”

Jack hops off the counter, this time stepping between her legs. She bites her lip in anticipation as he takes her hands and intertwines them, looking her dead in the eye. “Amelie. I really, really like you. Like, I-still-get-nervous-for-a-second-before-I-see-you like you. Or, I-can’t-believe-you’re-even-giving-me-a-chance like you. I’m here. I want to be here. As long as you’ll let me hang around, I will. You don’t have to be afraid to be honest with me about where you’re at. I won’t ever hold that against you.”

“But-”

“Staying, right? Your favorite Lizzy McAlpine song?”

She tilts her head in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I listened to it.”

“Okay?”

“If you’re afraid that I’m gonna just leave when my feelings suddenly disappear, which they won’t, I’m not going to do that. I’m not Cooper, okay? I’m not gonna fuck around for a month before deciding if you mean something to me, because I know what you mean to me. And I want to be here when you’re trying to figure it out. When we’re trying to figure it out, to be honest. You think I know how to be in a relationship?” He laughs at himself. “I’m bound to fuck it up somehow, probably many times, but I’m not just gonna leave when I do. I’m sticking around. I’ll stay and figure it out with you to the point where you’ll probably find me annoying. I’m not just gonna leave when things get hard.”

“But how can you promise that?”

He shrugs with a wry and somewhat defeated smile. “I can’t, I guess. You just have to trust my word.”

And to Amelie, weirdly enough, that’s the answer she was looking for. Cooper made so many empty promises. Jack’s unabashedly unsure of everything yet isn’t leaving her in the dark. 

She squeezes his hands. “I trust you.”

His swallow is visible. “Yeah?” He rasps out.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry if that hasn’t come across.”

He shrugs, planting his hands on either side of her on the counter. “Don’t be. Part of the gig, isn’t it? Earning your trust. And I’m having the best time.”

She scoffs. “It’s not annoying?”

His signature charming smile is back as he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if you really understand the effect you have on me.”

She wants to kiss him so bad. She doesn’t, nudging him away so she can hop off the counter. “You tired?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You choose what we watch,” she says, poking his shoulder.

He brightens up. “Cuddles?”

She rolls her eyes, but opens her arms when she collapses on the couch. Jack doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist, humming in satisfaction. 

(At 1:26 a.m. Clementine walks into the living room to see the sight of both Jack and Amelie asleep on the couch, his arm securely around her waist so she doesn’t fall off, their feet both dangling off the edge. She quietly clicks off the TV, adjusts the blanket so it covers both their bodies completely and takes their empty glasses to bring to the kitchen. 

She takes a second to watch them — in a non-creepy way at all — from the dimly lit kitchen. Amelie and Jack’s chest rise and fall in unison and even when Amelie adjusts herself, Jack’s arm tightens on instinct to keep them from falling. 

Clementine smiles to herself before tiptoeing to her bedroom)

~*~*~

jack

Jack doesn’t like feeling out of his element. And when it comes to Amelie, he feels like he has no fucking clue what he’s doing, even if he fakes it well. So that’s great.

He gets to the rink, and that’s old hat. Many things have changed, but at the end of the day, it’s still hockey. Blades to the ice is a feeling as natural as walking. 

But now, knowing that some games, Amelie is more or less watching. It doesn’t distract him perse, but he definitely takes note, trying to subtly find her when he’s on the bench. It’s become a fun game for him. Sometimes, her red ribbon is easy to find. Sometimes, he thinks she’s hiding from him. 

For Jack, not putting a label has been a bit difficult, because he’s always been the kind of person who needs to categorize things in some way, more for his own brain than anything. But at the same time, it also doesn’t matter to him that they’re not official. To him, they are, and that’s how he approaches all his actions. The dating apps from his phone are long gone. When he’s not thinking about hockey, he’s thinking about her. He’s trying not to be too overbearing while also not letting Amelie even question the possibility of him not being all in. 

When he was crying in his bedroom back home in Michigan, this seemed so far out of his reach. But now Amelie’s here (her apartment is only a few miles away, even) and he’d be damn stupid if he let this go. 

He’s never been in a relationship — or whatever this is — where coordinating both their schedules has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because not only does she understand, but their schedules overlap a good amount. A curse because her schedule is so unique covering many teams and even if he’s free, it doesn’t mean she is and vice versa. They’re only a few weeks into the season and it’s already becoming hard to find a few hours in their days to go do something. 

Everything is at her pace. He wants to be sure that she knows that he takes that seriously and he’s not going to leave or get frustrated. 

When Amelie said that she wanted to meet Clementine, Jack practically immediately darted for his phone, asking when the resident would have some free time. She’s been almost surprisingly chill about it all, not asking that much and only bringing it up if Jack brings it up first. Which, if he thinks about it more, makes complete sense to who calm, collected, older sister and beloved-by-all Clementine Sandoval is. 

So that leads them to today, grabbing brunch in Hoboken on a Sunday morning with himself, Amelie, Clementine, Luke and Nico. Jack had asked Amelie if she wanted the latter two there or not, and she said she was okay with it. Jack hopes it brings Amelie more ease to have Nico and Luke around rather than stress. 

Jack’s leg is shaking and Luke is in the backseat as they sit in the car outside Amelie’s apartment. Luke shoves Jack’s shoulder. “Dude, stop shaking your leg. You’re stressing me out.”

“Sorry,” he responds automatically. 

“You know Clemmy. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

“I know.”

“Amelie’s scared?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I just want them to get along.”

“They’ll get along,” Luke says matter-of-factly. “It’s Clemmy. And it’s Amelie. And me and Cap are there. How bad could it go?”

Jack just sighs. It’s not going to go badly. It won’t. 

Honestly, it can’t. 

It’s that he’s always felt that Clementine brings out the best version of himself and she’s one of the biggest parts of his life. If there’s an inkling of this not going well, he doesn't know what he’s going to do. 

“Chill, man,” Luke says as Amelie floats through the front door. Jack is momentarily mesmerized by her maroon scarf and the white bow in her hair as she spots him, paddling over to his car. She’s about to go in the backseat, but Luke gestures to her through the window to take the front.

“Hi,” she breathes out, slipping in and shutting the door. She turns around to face Luke. “You didn’t have to leave me the front.”

“I wasn’t in the mood to hear Jack’s bitching and moaning,” Luke deadpans, a small smile peeking through as Amelie chuckles. 

Jack is about to shoot something back at his brother but then Amelie reaches over to squeeze his hand. He immediately relaxes. “Well, step on it,” Amelie jokes lightly. “We don’t wanna be late.”

“You look really nice,” Jack says, pulling out onto the road. 

“Thanks,” she responds quietly. “You do too. You too, Luke.”

“Thank you,” Luke sings. Jack isn’t looking at him but he knows that half-smile smirk thing that drives Jack bonkers is on Luke’s lips. 

“You excited?” Jack asks. 

Amelie coughs. “I’m scared as shit.” Luke snorts in the back. Amelie doesn’t even look as she whacks his knee. Jack knew he liked her for a reason. “No, I’ll be fine. I just want her to like me, that’s all.”

“She will,” Jack assures. 

They don’t talk much the rest of the ride, Amelie singing softly under her breath. He realizes that everytime they’re in a car together, Amelie has to sing, almost like she can’t control herself. It’s so endearing. 

Jack sees Clementine through the window of the restaurant in the middle of laughing at something Nico is saying. He internally rolls her eyes. They’re so gross. He flashes one last reassuring smile at Amelie before he leads them in, Luke holding the door for all three of them. 

Clementine sees the trio come in immediately and grins. “Hi Jacky.”

He narrows his eyes. “Hello.”

“Chill out,” she says. “Hey Lukey. And Amelie!” Clementine stands up, engulfing her in a hug. Jack can’t see Amelie’s face. “It’s so nice to meet you finally! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Amelie says, pulling away with a small smile. “Hi Nico.”

The captain just smiles at her warmly. “Hey Amelie.”

“Have you guys ordered yet?” Jack asks as they all sit down. 

Clementine snorts. “No. We were waiting for your slow ass.”

“I am right on time, actually,” Jack snaps back.

Clementine ignores him, turning to Amelie instead. Immediately, the older girl just launches into questions. It’s a borderline interrogation and Jack can tell Amelie is a bit thrown off but she takes it all with grace paired with the most beautiful smile. By the time they order, Clementine’s already talking about how much of a pain it is to live with him and Luke and how much she wishes she didn’t and everyones jumping at each other as Nico just sits back and laughs and Jack hopes and hopes that this isn’t too much for Amelie. He’s seen her quietly work a room full of hockey players, but this is his family. 

(When their food comes, he takes her hand underneath the table and squeezes it. Without a passing beat, she squeezes right back, as she asks Clementine about her time at Stanford)

At one point, the two women are still riffing seamlessly off each other (making fun of him, thank you very much), and Luke snorts. “Are you just going to take this? Fight back, dude.”

“Don’t,” Nico says wearily. “No point. You know this.”

Jack grunts, because Nico’s right. He rolls his eyes as Clementine shoots him a smug grin, but he feels himself soften hearing Amelie’s chuckle. 

This could be his life. This is his life. Almost all his favorite people in the same place. He doesn’t get this peace that often in New Jersey. Especially not during the season. 

Amelie fits like a puzzle piece perfectly into his life. How lucky is he?

Clementine has a night shift and apologizes for it (“I should probably nap before or else I’ll be dead on my feet”), to which all of them decide it’s a good time as any to leave. They’ve already been talking for almost two hours, which has to be a good sign, right? Jack gives Clementine a kiss on the cheek, hugs Nico and messes up Luke’s hair, staring fondly as Amelie gives Clementine, Nico and Luke parting hugs. He catches Nico’s knowing look that he’s been on the end of many times before, usually hockey related. 

As he starts the engine of his car, Amelie deeply sighs to him. Immediately, he’s alert. “You okay? Was that too much?”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No, not at all.” She must sense his worry, because she continues with a laugh. “It was actually really fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she leans her head on the window, looking towards him. “I see why you talk so highly of her. Clementine, I mean. She’s really cool.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Jack grins. 

“She mentioned her dad a few times?” Amelie prods gently. “Did something happen?”

Jack swallows. “I never told you?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Oh. I thought I did. Uh, her dad, Miguel, died back in 2015. New Year’s Day. Cancer.”

He sneaks a look at Amelie and she looks heartbroken. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” she whispers. 

He continues on. He needs her to get it. “I miss him a lot. Constantly. He was the best guy. And Clee’s just..I love her so much. And Maeve, her mom. My mom, to some degree. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

“That must’ve been really hard, for all of you,” she says softly.

“He never got to see any of us in the NHL,” Jack says. He’s trying to stay calm, but he’s gripping the wheel really tightly. “Hell, he never even got to see us in the NTDP. Or Q and Lukey at Michigan. He should be here. He would’ve loved all of it. But yeah, that’s Miguel.”

“She’s wonderful,” Amelie says after a few moments of silence. “Even just from that lunch, it’s obvious how much you all care about each other.”

“It’s hard to describe it, to be honest,” he says. “I think some people think at first that it’s something that it’s not. I’ve never seen her as anything but a sister.”

“I’m really glad you have someone like that,” she says, sounding somewhere between happy and sad. “And I’m sure she feels the same way.”

Jack chuckles. “I don’t know if she would. Most of the time I think we annoy her more than anything.”

“Annoying is 90% of what being a sibling is,” she points out. “Char and Col and I all love each other, but we annoyed the crap out of each other growing up.”

“You miss them?”

“All the time, and I saw Col a few weeks ago.” she tucks her legs up underneath her chin. “I think missing someone or something is all a part of it. You ever miss people even though they’re metaphorically right there? Or you haven’t had enough time to miss them yet?”

He sneaks another look at her and he feels his heart beating faster.

“All the time.”

~*~*~

amelie

Amelie and Kennedy are hanging out in the kitchen area when out of the corner of the eye, she sees Jack come in. 

It’s not unusual for players to come into the kitchen area of their own practice facility. But he’s beelining right towards the trio, which has Amelie’s arm hairs sticking up. 

“Hey Jack,” Kennedy greets warmly.

He nods with a close lipped smile. “Dynamic duo. How are you both?”

Kennedy raises an eyebrow. “Dream duo?”

“That’s how Josh refers to you two.” Amelie tuts as the other two laugh. Jack turns to her with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “What?”

Amelie shrugs. “Nothing. Just funny that Josh even refers to us at all.”

“It’s because we brighten his day,” Kennedy smirks. “What would he do without us?”

“Without you,” Amelie corrects with a wry smile. “I’m not here everyday.”

“You’re here enough,” Kennedy shoots back. She turns to Jack, and Amelie is immediately intrigued yet scared to hear what comes out of the older girl’s mouth, always the one to stir the pot in a harmless way. “Sick goal last night.”

Jack blinks. “The one that got called back?”

“The very one.”

Amelie bursts out laughing and Jack lets out a chuckle as well. “Thanks, I think,” he says. 

“Got some cool shots of it actually, but alas.”

“Alas, indeed.” Jack then turns his attention to Amelie. She can’t help but let a smile peek out. “I don’t think I saw you last night.”

“That’s because I was in Philly. They needed someone last minute.”

Jack pouts. “But what if the Devils need you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Then they have Kenny. And numerous other talented people on call.”

He nudges her elbow. “I know. We like having you around though.”

Amelie purposefully ignores her friends / coworkers’ eyes that she can feel boring into the side of her face, choosing to instead focus directly on Jack. “Do you know who’s been looking for you all morning?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“Emma.”

“Shit,” he curses. “For what?”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “A Tik-Tok, probably. That’s what the kids are doing these days. You’re a kid. Shouldn’t you know?”

“You’re like, only three years older than me, Ken.” Jack protests. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“She was in the media room last night I saw her,” Amelie smirks. “Go. Before she kills you. Or us. And I don’t wanna deal with that.”

He narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he swipes the unopened gatorade on the table, to which Amelie sputters at. That was hers, thank you very much. “I’ll see you two later.”

When he’s out of eyesight, Amelie lets out a deep sigh. “Annoying ass.”

“I have to agree, and I’ve been here for years. They all are though. Except for like, Nico.”

Amelie snorts. “Well, yeah. That’s a given. Everyone loves Nico.”

“Jack is right about one thing though,” the older girl nudges Amelie’s shoulder with her own. “We miss you when you’re not here.”

She just smiles, accepting a side hug from Kennedy. It’s a pretty damn good gig she has. 

~*~*~

jack

It’s no surprise that hockey players are creatures of habit. 

Jack is starting to freak himself in his willingness to break slowly from some of his habits for Amelie. Nothing crazy. Just an extra scoop of ice cream if Amelie’s craving something sweet after a game (he’s learned that she has a really strong sweet tooth and always has candy in her bag and car) or making sure that her texts and calls can come through during his pre-game nap. 

Only seven other people have that privilege. His parents, his brothers, his sister (Clementine), his second mom (Maeve) and his captain. 

He’s always liked to stay silent and blast music on the way home from a game, win or lose. Now he’s started asking Amelie more and more to see if she wants a ride, since she doesn’t love driving and often carpools with a coworker into work. They don’t have to be talking, but letting her into his post game routine so seamlessly — especially since he and Luke don’t usually drive to the rink together that much — is something he hasn’t done for…anyone.

It’s just so easy with her. Their conversations, whether over text, phone or in-person, are never stale. She makes him laugh daily with her witty sense of humor. He always looks forward to catching a glimpse of her at the rink before a game or after a practice. He’s come to look forward to seeing her texts after a game since they’re usually a picture or two of him that she “thinks are the best ones.” Leaving on a road trip has become genuinely harder because he can’t see her for a few days. 

He finds himself wanting. Constantly. It’s a newer feeling for him. 

Sometimes, it feels scary. Especially since he hasn’t really gotten a direct answer from her yet about what she wants this to be. But they’re basically dating without the title. 

He would like an answer at some point though. But it’s not stopping him from doing all he’s doing already. Or feeling all he’s feeling already.

They’re playing the Habs at home tonight, and he’s feeling good, driving into the arena now to prepare. Last night, he had Cole over for dinner and it felt like old times. They had an optional skate this morning where most of the team was present. He likes where the team is at and he’s confident about what he needs to work on in his individual game.

Walking in, he says hi to the guys, dodges a classic slap to the head from Curtis and goes to the medical room to stretch out. As he’s stretching out his calf, he spots Josh wandering through the hallway. He makes direct eye contact with Jack and comes into the room. 

“Jack, hey.”

Jack smiles easily. “What can I do for you, Josh?”

“Have you seen Amelie? I have one of her cameras and I need to give it back to her before the game starts.”

“Uh, no.” Jack smirks slightly. He has an idea of where this might go. He’ll play. “Why would I know where she is?”

Josh blinks. “You two are always around each other.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Are we?”

“Seems like it.”

“Well, no,” Jack grins. “I don’t know where she is.”

“You looking for me?” The two guys whip their heads to the doorway to see Amelie. She’s wearing a denim jacket over a simple black shirt., brown boots on her feet. The classic red ribbon is in her hair and Jack wants to kiss her so bad. 

But he just nods. “Just in time.”

Josh looks to Amelie. “Your camera.”

She lights up, taking it from his hands. “Oh, right. What did you think?”

“It’s sick,” Josh admits. “I might have to add it onto my list.”

“Yeah, I saved up for that baby for two years,” Amelie laughs. “Worth it though.”

“Very worth it. Thank you for letting me borrow it. See you out there,” Josh turns to salute to Jack. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Josh.” And then it’s just the two of them. “Hi. You look nice.”

“Thanks.” She bites her lip, making sure no one is coming down the hallway. “Does he know?”

Jack raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Know what?”

“About us?”

“We’re an us?”

She gives him an unamused look. “Jack.”

“I’m kidding,” he watches as she walks to where he is, looking up at her from where he’s sitting. “I don’t think so, to be honest. He’s a bit-”

“Unobservant,” Amelie concludes with a laugh. “Yeah, he’s a killer photographer. Has a great eye. But with everything else?” She lowers her voice. “Actually, I was gonna ask and I’m really sorry, but could you give me a ride home later? I rode with Kenny because she wanted to try this bagel place and and we just came straight here-”

“Of course,” Jack assures. “It’s not a problem at all. Ever.”

She snorts. “Yeah. Sure. I am out of your way, you know?”

“I love driving you home,” Jack admits fully with his chest. “I don’t mind it at all.”

“Okay, thanks,” she backs away. “I’ll see you out there?”

“As always,” he says, a smile still on his face as she walks out of his sight. 

…..

They’re in his car after the game, a comfortable silence between them sans Amelie humming along to some he’s vaguely heard before, when things change. 

“I told one of my college friends earlier today that you were my boyfriend.”

Jack almost slams on the breaks. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, he feels like he’s missing something. He looks over to her as he rolls his car to a stop in front of a light. “Is this your way of asking?”

She shrugs, but the streetlights expose the slight smile on her face. “Maybe. Is that bad?”

Despite himself, he laughs. “It’s definitely not what I expected.”

“I mean,” he thinks he hears her voice shake for the first time he’s known her as he pulls up to the front of her apartment complex, killing the engine. “We basically are anyways, aren’t we? And honestly, I-I think I’m ready. If you’re still interested.”

He wants to shake her silly because she’s being so ridiculous. He snorts. “If I’m still interested? Of course I’m still interested.”

“Good,” she breathes out. “Great. I, uh, yeah.” 

“Yeah?” He repeats softly, afraid that this bubble will pop unexpectedly when he wants to scream happily from the rooftop. “I’m yours?” 

“I’m really annoying,” she warns with a swallow. “I’m trying not to be. But I am. This is your last chance to back out. I don’t know if I know how to be a good girlfriend.”

Jack knows that’s not true and, frankly, doesn’t care. “I’m yours,” he rushes out. A firm statement this time. “However long you want me, I’m yours.” 

“Okay.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Okay? Can I kiss you?” 

She pouts slightly. “Don’t one up me like that. I didn’t ask the first time.” 

He blinks before a full fledged grin takes over his face. “You remember planting one on me in your grandparents’ kitchen?” 

“I remember everything that involves you.” 

Jack lunches forward to cup her cheeks and kisses her. Amelie responds immediately. He can’t believe this is happening.

They eventually pull apart and he watches her eyes open slowly as he rubs her cheeks with his thumbs. Her light grip on his wrists is the only thing keeping him tethered. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me since we’ve been in Jersey?” She asks, tilting her head to the side. 

“Because I didn’t know if you’d want me to,” 

She visibly deflates. Jack quickly kisses her forehead lightly. He doesn’t wanna see her like that. “It’s late. I’ll let you go.” 

“Okay,” she says softly, grabbing her backpack. “Goodnight. Text me when you’re home safe.” 

And oh. Isn’t that lovely?  “Of course. Goodnight, baby.” 

The second he sees Amelie walk into her building, he dials Quinn’s number. He picks up on the fourth ring as Jack starts driving. 

“Hello?”

“Dude.”

“What?” Jack hears rustling on his older brother’s end. He presumes Quinn is lounging around on his couch, freedom present in his off day.

Jack drums his fingers on the wheel, waiting for the light. “I think I have a girlfriend.”

Silence, before Quinn lets out a quiet snort. “Amelie finally say yes?”

“Hey,” Jack protests. “You’re making it sound like I’ve been begging her, which I haven’t, because that’s a dick move.”

“So what happened?”

“She said she was catching up with one of her old friends on the phone and slipped up and called me her boyfriend then we got to talking and she was like, okay.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“And this happened, just now?”

“Literally less than a minute ago.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good on you both, dude. About time.”

“Is it supposed to feel like this?” Jack says with a swallow. “Is it too soon to feel like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like I wanna spend the rest of my life with her?”

Silence. And then a crackly, “Shit, you’re serious?” 

“Don’t be an ass,” Jack scowls. 

“I’m not trying to be,” Quinn says. “I’m just, holy shit. You really like her.” 

Jack lets out a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Clem told me she met her the other week.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did Amelie think?” 

“She told me Clee was great. What did Clee say?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Ass.”

“You love me,” Quinn shoots back. “So now what?”

Jack blinks, cracking his neck. “I try not to fuck it up, I guess.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up, dude.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up,” Quinn repeats. “I’m serious. Especially not this.”

“I’ve done it once. I could do it again.”

“But you won’t. And if you do, it won’t fall to pieces. Because you won’t let it.”

Jack takes a shaky breath. He hasn’t felt anxiety this severe since the moments before he went in for surgery earlier this year. “I’m terrified.”

“Then talk to her,” Quinn says. “I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing that, to be honest. And also, I would bet money that she’s just as, if not more, scared than you are. 

“Nah,” Jack brushes his brother off. “She’s so calm about this all compared to me.”

“Or she’s better at faking it,” Quinn points out. “She’s awesome, Jack, And you’re not so bad either. Don’t overthink it so much. Enjoy it. This is what you’ve wanted for months.”

“Yeah,” Jack responds, nodding to himself. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I know. I gotta make dinner, so I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m perfect.”

Quinn chuckles. “Good. Congratulations, dude. She’s awesome. Can’t wait to see her when we come to play you guys.”

“Thanks, man. Love you. Talk later.”

“Love you, Jack. Bye.”

When Jack pulls into his garage, he takes a deep breath. He kills the engine, reaches for his phone and swipes through to Amelie’s texts she sent just a minute ago. 

It’s a photo of him at the faceoff dot from earlier. But it’s the text underneath that has Jack grinning uncontrollably. 

Amelie Fishel 

2830.jpeg

now you’re gonna get endless photos of yourself all the time !!

Jack Hughes

i don’t mind in the slightest 

goodnight. sleep well 

Amelie Fishel

you’re home safe!

❤️💤

see you tomorrow

~*~*~

amelie

A fun part of the job that she didn’t expect has been seeing the familiar faces around the league that she’s known before. As in, the people she overlapped with at Michigan. There’s a lot of them. 

By now, she knows who wears what number for the teams she covers. She’s not required to know the rosters of the opposing team, but she likes to pair numbers with faces and names as much as she can. It’s become a fun game for her too.

It just proves to her that this world is so incredibly small. For better or worse. 

Currently, the Devils are in the midst of their game against the Sharks and all she can think is: damn, the Sharks jerseys are pretty. 

The teal of it all is tickling the color theory part of Amelie’s brain so well. She wishes the teams she covered were more original in color. 

As Amelie’s sifting quickly through the photos she took during the second period on her new camera, she stops at a picture of two teal jerseys celebrating their goal. Number 2 and number 71. She quickly double checks on Google. Yup. She was right. Will Smith and Macklin Celebrini

Amelie’s always been good with names. Macklin’s stuck with her after working the draft. And Will’s is just so iconic. 

She checks the time. She still has 7 minutes left before the third period starts. Quickly, she connects the camera to the laptop and then the printer, printing out two copies of the same picture. She reminds herself after the game to venture towards the visitors’ locker room as soon as she can before the Sharks leave. Maybe grab Bordeleau to make it easier. Hopefully he remembers her. 

Once the buzzer sounds, she pats her pocket, making sure the two photos are there. She briefly thinks of a game plan, deciding to give it at least 15 minutes so she doesn’t interrupt the locker room. She hangs out in an alcove where she knows from prior experience that she can hear the visiting’s teams general coming and goings. In the meantime, she pulls up her laptop to edit some photos. 

As luck would have it, she sees a glimpse of Thomas and now she’s on a mission. In a brisk jog, she catches up to him and taps him on the shoulder.

He turns around and his face lights up in recognition. “Amelie? Holy shit.”

She smiles. “Hey Bords.”

“I thought I saw on Instagram that you’re working in the NHL now,” he gives her a quick hug. “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Yeah. Listen, I know you guys are probably heading out pretty soon, but do you mind grabbing either Celebrini or Smith or both of them for me?” At his initial confusion, she pulls out the photos. “Thought they might want a copy.”

He nods with a small smirk. “Yeah, I’ll grab them. Be right back.” Not even a two minutes later, Thomas comes back with Macklin and Will both in tow, all back in their game day suits, though much less refined than she’s sure they were walking in. 

She puts on her professional smile, sticking her hand out. “Hi. I’m Amelie. Uh, I’m a photographer with the NHL,” she hands the rookies the photos. “I took this in the second period and I figured maybe you’d want a copy? No charge. Just keep a bit hush about that.”

Macklin takes the photos as Will looks over his shoulder. “These are sick. Thank you so much.”

“You’re so welcome.”

“How do you know Bordy?” Will asks.

“We went to college together,” she replies. 

“Michigan?” She nods. Will continues. “You must know Rutger and Shea then. And Luke. Unless you didn’t overlap?”

Amelie laughs. “Oh, I know them very well. I was Rut’s TA. He loved that.” 

“It’s beautiful there,” Macklin says. “I train there in the summers now and it’s so nice.”

Right. He trains with Jack. Go figure. “It is,” she reminisces, trying not to get too emotional about what home means to her in a literal and metaphorical sense. 

“Do you work for the Devils now?” Thomas asks. 

“Kinda,” Amelie says, redoing her hair and aimlessly retying her bow. “I cover the Devils and Flyers mainly, but Rangers and Islanders as well. I technically work with the NHL rather than a specific team.”

“Have we met?” Macklin asks with an innocent tilt of his head. 

“Maybe?” She says. “I was at the draft. So possibly in passing. And maybe if you came to Yost? I can’t remember what year BU came to play in Michigan.”

“I never did at BU,” Macklin says. “But the draft makes sense.”

She backs away. “I won’t keep you for long so-ah!” She crashes into someone and whips around to see Jack, one side of his lips quirked up. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he says with a playful tilt. 

“What are you doing here?” She shoots back.

“Josh was looking for you, actually, and I just saw you out here.”

She looks down at her feet, because deep down, she knows it’s because he was purposefully looking for her. But she doesn’t mind the vagueness, especially in front of Thomas, Macklin and Will.

Jack does some sort of bro handshake with all three of them, paired with a friendly nod. “What’s up?”

Macklin grins. “Amelie here took a picture of me and Will and wanted to give it to us.”

Jack leans over to look at the picture and lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a keeper.”

Amelie gives a parting smile. “It was nice to meet you both, and good to see you again, Bords.”

“Thank you for the picture,” Will says sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Amelie just shrugs, accepting a quick hug from Thomas before backing away and letting Jack say his parting words. 

When he faces her directly, his back towards his fellow hockey players, in his Devils sweatshirt and his wet hair fresh from the shower, she swallows. 

He’s hers. Isn’t that great?

“Hi,” she says softly when he gets in earshot. 

“Hey,” he says. She wants to kiss him so bad. “Did you drive here today?”

“No. I carpooled with Kenny. Is she still in there?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “How much longer you need?”

She hums, hands automatically fiddling with the camera around her neck. “Maybe 20 minutes?”

“I can drive you home.”

“You sure?” She whispers. “I don’t wanna keep you. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Being here for 20 extra won’t hurt me,” they stop before parting to different hallways. “I’ll come knock on your door in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “See you.”

(As the three Sharks watch Jack and Amelie walk away, they all notice how Jack’s hand doesn’t quite touch Amelie’s, but it’s damn close. And their bodies are tuned to each other in a way that goes beyond mere coworkers.

Macklin blinks. “It’s none of my business, but are they-”

“Yup,” Thomas responds. “I follow her on Instagram. They’re definitely dating.”

“Huh,” Will comments. “That’s kinda cute. The sports photographer and the player. Think Grace made me watch a movie like that once.”

“She’s great,” Thomas says with a nostalgic tilt in his voice. “We were both freshmen at the same time and I just, I don’t know. It’s awesome to see where she’s ended up.”

“Did you ever predict that she and Jack-”

Thomas snorts. “No. Absolutely not. Not any hockey player, to be honest. She was just always on the quieter end and seemed way too smart for any of us, because she is. But she’s, just, so great.”

The two rookies hum, watching as the couple turns the corner out of view.)

~*~*~

amelie

They finally, finally go on that Manhattan date, on a brief break where Jack doesn’t have any games and a day that Amelie is also free. The con is that he doesn’t tell her what they’re doing, only says “trust me” and “wear something you can walk in and be warm in and is a little fancy but not too much.” 

She appreciates it, she does. And Jack elicits nothing but comfort and ease, especially since their conversation a week and a half ago. So she is trying to be at ease with the lack of knowing the plans. But by the time Jack knocks on her door a little bit after 2 p.m., she’s been dressed for over an hour, pacing around for almost the same amount of time. 

She whips open the door and smiles, momentarily taken aback. “Hi.”

He laughs a bit, eyes sparkling. He has a canvas jacket tossed over a plain black t-shirt and black jeans. He looks clean and fresh and so cute. “Hi. Ready to go?”

“Mmhm.”

He waits for her to grab her bag and jacket, before interlacing their fingers and kissing their locked hands. “You look pretty.” 

She tucks herself into his side, feeling giddy. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”

“I’m glad we’re finally able to do this.”

“I am too, but I think you’re a bit crazy for wanting to drive into the city.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s not too bad. Nico does it all the time with Clee. I’ve picked her up from the hospital before. As long as you don’t mind possible traffic. Besides, want you to be comfortable.”

She just looks at him, marveling at how much he really likes her. She wishes she was used to this feeling. Not wanting to dwell outwardly on that right now, she changes the subject. “What are we doing?” 

“What do you mean? You know what we’re doing.” 

“I know that you asked me if I knew of any places to eat in the city for a late lunch or dessert,” she deadpans as they get into his car. “I know you have more up your sleeve.” 

He grins. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

“Jack-”

His hand rests on her thigh and he squeezes lightly. “Hey. I got it, okay? Just worry about having a good time.”

She sinks back into her seat, shooting him a glare. He laughs and she softens. “Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy.”

“No need to be sorry,” he responds easily. “How was your day yesterday?”

They talk the whole time it takes for them to get into Manhattan. As always, Amelie’s on the aux. She hasn’t told Jack yet, but she’s started making a playlist of songs that she’s played that he’s noted that he likes or seems to bop his head to. Jack parks in a garage attached to a hotel in Soho, right by the sushi place that Amelie suggested per Colette. (“You’ve met my brothers. When do I get to meet your sisters?” Jack had joked. And the thought of that didn’t terrify Amelie as much as she thought it would.”) He doesn’t even give her the chance when the check comes, snatching it away despite Amelie very much verbally disagreeing. 

He waves her off, as he signs. “Amelie. No. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m getting the next one,” she says adamantly. 

“We’ll see,” he says. 

“Jack.”

“We’ll see,” he repeats with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

She grabs her bag and jacket. “To where, exactly?”

“You’ll see. We’re hopping on the train.”

She lets him lead, even leaning her forehead against his chest on the train when it’s packed. They ride mostly in silence as she takes in the city. This isn’t even close to her first time in Manhattan, but it’s always a bit overwhelming. Jack’s steady presence calms her down, especially when the train jolts and he automatically steadies her. 

When they get off at the 42nd Street station, Amelie has an inkling she knows where this is heading. She gives Jack a look, but he just holds her hand firmly in his as they exit the busy station. 

“Are you taking me to a show?”

He turns from where he was walking slightly in front of her with a smile. “Busted.”

She feels her heart dropping down to her feet. “Jack.”

“Well, hold on,” he jokes. “You don’t know what show yet.” She’s still in a daze, because she’s maybe only mentioned in passing how much she loves Broadway and musical theater and she’s trying to wrap her head around the fact that he remembered enough to incorporate into their first date. Tickets aren’t cheap, especially with-

“Jack,” she says as they glide to a stop in front of Richard Rodgers Theater. “No. You didn’t.”

He grins, exaggeratedly gesturing at the “Hamilton” billboard. “I did. I don’t know much about Broadway, but even I know Hamilton is supposed to be a great show.” Amelie’s so incredibly touched as she continues staring at Jack in disbelief. People are walking by them in a blur and all she can focus on is his smile, that slowly turns unsure the longer she stays silent. “I also did reach out to Charlotte on Instagram after I saw she followed me and asked if you would like this.”

That’s a loaded sentence. “Y-you asked my sister?” She sputters out. 

“Well, yeah,” Jack shrugs sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure it was a good idea.”

“This is too much,” she finally chokes out.

“But in a good way?”

“I-I’ve always dreamed of seeing Hamilton live.”

“Dope,” he holds out his hand with an easy smile. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

She looks at him, takes a deep breath and intertwines their hands. 

[misshoneyimhome]

Sexy Christmas I 750 Followers Celebration

➼｡ﾟ

🎄 It’s the most, sexiest time of the year🎄

With just two months until Christmas, I feel like it’s time to start embracing the holiday spirit (sorry, Halloween!). And what better way to kick off the festivities than with some steamy fics? 🎁✨

So, here I am, excited to announce this year’s Sexy Christmas celebration, which also marks a special occasion: my 750 followers milestone 🙏🏼Thank you all so much for reading all the weird and fucked content I put out there! Whether you’ve been here since I started writing, returned after a break, or are new to my blog, I truly appreciate each and every one of you. You make this space what it is, and you all deserve some love and holiday spice! 🌶️

So, let’s make this the sexiest Christmas yet! 🎅🔥

In short: I’ve got 10 prompts that need to be paired with hockey players—please follow the roster ❤️‍🔥 [One player per prompt]

And for those of you who love to write, feel free to join the party with your own sexy Christmas fic! Everyone is welcome, whether it’s a simple blurb, a one-shot, or a full chapter. Or if you’ve got a different holiday you celebrate, feel free to throw that in 😉 (Just always remember to mark it 18+, if it contains mature content)

Doesn’t matter if it’s oc or reader insert 💕

I imagine I’ll start posting on December 1st - or after I've finished the requests currently in my inbox ❤️

Anyway, happy Halloween 🎃 and soon happy Christmas 🎄 

➼｡ﾟ

Prompts ☟

1. Naughty Under the Tree - William Nylander ☃︎

OC unwraps an unexpected gift from her hockey player love interest—him, wearing only a strategically placed ribbon, waiting for her under the Christmas tree.

2. Mistletoe Tease - Auston Matthews ☃︎

The tension between them has been building for weeks, but when they get caught under the mistletoe at the team’s holiday party, what starts as a simple kiss quickly becomes a steamy exchange they can’t stop.

3. Fireplace Heat - Joseph Woll ☃︎

After a snowy night game, the hockey player invites OC back to his place to warm up by the fire. As they share hot cocoa and cosy blankets, the heat from the fireplace isn’t the only thing keeping them warm.

4. Holiday Stocking Surprise - Kevin Fiala ☃︎

OC finds a suggestive note in her Christmas stocking, and it leads to a naughty holiday scavenger hunt through her house, with the hockey player waiting for her at the end—ready for more than just Christmas cheer.

5. Office Holiday Party Hookup - Seth Jarvis ☃︎

OC and her favourite player sneak away during the office Christmas party, finding a quiet corner to exchange more than just gifts under the twinkling holiday lights.

6. Snowed-In Seduction - Frederik Andersen ☃︎

After getting snowed in together during a winter trip, the two share a cabin. When the firewood runs low, they discover new ways to stay warm as sparks fly in more ways than one.

7. Steamy Christmas Eve Confession - Nico Hischier ☃︎

During a cosy Christmas Eve dinner, one of them confesses their long-hidden feelings. What starts as an innocent conversation turns into a passionate Christmas confession neither of them expected.

8. Santa’s Naughty List - Matthew Tkachuk ☃︎

The hockey player teases OC about being on Santa’s naughty list, but by the end of the night, it’s clear they’re both interested in exploring who’s been the naughtiest this Christmas.

9. Christmas Morning, Barely Wrapped - Auston Matthews

OC and the hockey player wake up together on Christmas morning, but instead of opening presents, they decide to unwrap each other first, making the holiday morning unforgettable.

10. Gift Exchange Gone Wild - Nico Hischier

A simple Christmas gift exchange between friends becomes much more heated when the hockey player gives OC something a little too intimate, leading to an explosive moment of passion.

[mapofthesea]

forward!jimin x social media manager!fem!reader

hockey!au

genre: smut, fluff, porn with a hint of plot!

word count: 5.8k

summary: star forward Park Jimin is not only good at the game of hockey, but the game of life. He’s rarely faced with adversity and enjoys the perks of being admired by millions of fans between his sporting and modeling endeavors. To you, he’s nothing but a massive thorn in your side: a reminder of your past life as a puck bunny and your biggest challenge in landing your next promotion. He’s damn lucky he’s handsome.

warnings: arguing, tension from past relationship (they were never Together but they did fuck), swearing, jimin is a smug little shit, jimin with a lip piercing (!!!), hockey talk but no actual game time action, they have Feelings for each other, kind of enemies to lovers but lowkey, specific smut warnings include: penetrative unprotected sex (don’t do this irl!), dom!jimin x sub!reader, slightly bratty reader, degradation (he calls her a slut, she likes it though) and praise, making out/sloppy kissing, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), handjob, hair pulling, hickeys/marking, multiple orgasms, coming inside, slight overstimulation, aftercare ofc

a/n: as always my work is not proof read or edited so there may be some mistakes! Also this is clearly smut so please do not go below the cut if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable with the content noted above. Happy reading!

The warmth of the hotel sheets engulfs you, the expensive feeling silk rubbing gently against your freshly washed skin. You barely know what time it is, but the sleep weighing down your eyelids negates any logic.

An involuntary sigh passes your lips as you feel your spine decompress from the cramped position you had to assume on the plane ride here. Your phone vibrates on the beside table but you skillfully ignore it, snuggling further into the comforter. A sweet lull of sleep starts to envelope you- and then your phone vibrates again. Once, twice, three times, and then the barrage of texts turns into a full blown call, rattling your phone violently.

"Fuck, what?" You yell, throwing the covers off and snatch the phone off of the bedside table. The brightness makes you squint, answering the call without seeing who it is.

"Hello?"

"Oh Thank God, Y/N. I need you to-" the sound of your boss's voice sends anger through your veins. It was his idea for you to travel to this tournament, and now he has the audacity to call you after working hours?

"No, please, Ken. It's late and I'm tired. Whatever the issue is it can wait until the morning."

"It really can't, Y/N. I need you to go talk to Park. Now." You still, heart hammering at the name. You can't imagine what the fuck he would need at this hour, but you're not a babysitter and you certainly aren't giving up your rest for him.

"No, I'm just here to do media for the games. It's not my problem if he needs a handler tonight." Ken sighs and the tension is palpable through the phone line. The silence buzzes through you like a live wire.

"If you don't go talk to him now, your job is gonna be a lot harder than it needs to be in the morning. Please, Y/N. I need someone with boots on the ground to help me. If you get it solved I'll fast track your application for the promotion." Ken's offer hangs over your head. Fuck this capitalist system and the fact that whoever takes the promotion is based more on connection than talent. As much as you despise having to continue to climb the ladder after years of hard work in college and the office, the perks of better health insurance glimmer in your mind.

"Okay, fine. I'm going." Anxiety spikes in your chest as Ken thanks you and hangs up. You vividly remember the last time you were one on one with Park Jimin, and the thought makes your cheeks flame. Suddenly your breezy pajamas feel too warm, and the slightly damp strands of your hair at the nape of your neck itch.

When you started your career in sports media, you never saw yourself working for the same hockey team he plays for. You always saw it as a near impossibility when you moved away from your hometown for the degree- but the universe works in weird and cruel ways that happen to force you into close quarters with a whole gaggle of professional hockey players. You really tried your very hardest to avoid interacting with any of the players on the team outside of working hours, not just Jimin. Although several of them had also flew in today and settled in the same hotel, you made sure to book with a separate airline and get a hotel room on a separate floor. You had no interest in mixing your business with your personal life; it’s nothing but an irresponsible risk.

But here you are now, embarrassing yourself by applying a fresh layer of deodorant before you leave your hotel room. The lavish hallways are luckily empty, and the cool elevator shaft eases the heat crawling up your neck. It’s incredibly nerve-wracking to imagine why you needed to have this intervention, and the idea of how he may answer the door makes you dizzy.

Maybe he’d injured himself? But surely you wouldn’t be the one called to his room in that case. There was always the possibility that he did something to cause a media storm- got into a fight, was spotted robbing a store, maybe it was reported that he did cocaine in a bathroom- but it had only been a few hours since their plane landed, so would he have had time for any of that? And wouldn't covering up a personal blunder be up to his personal manager, not you? Your palms slick with sweat at the possibilities of the mess you’re going to find behind his door.

You hover outside it, staring at the gold plated numbers illuminated by the nearby sconces. It's oddly intimidating to know he's just on the other side of the door; living and breathing and simply existing- perhaps making some kind of erroneous mistake that could ruin his career or basking in the aftermath of that. The wood of the door feels thick and expensive under your fingers as you knock, and it’s so feeble that you can almost guarantee he didn’t hear it. You swear and try again, knocking harder despite your shaking knuckles.

“Coming!” His voice sounds light and airy but it makes lead drop through your stomach. The urge to run away overtakes you and just as you make the decision that no, this isn’t worth the possibility of a promotion, the door swings open.

Park Jimin has no right looking this handsome at whatever ungodly hour you had knocked on his door. His black hair is mussed at the back of his head as if he had just been laying in bed. The softness of his hair is almost enough to weaken you, but the familiar narrowed cut of his eyes runs ice through you. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you blush and internally chastise yourself for the stupid reaction; you were here for a professional reason, so why the fuck was your heart hammering in your chest at a million miles an hour?

"What can I do for you, Y/N?" Jimin's silky voice filters through your hazy mind and you startle, shaking your head to clear the suffocation surrounding you. Alarm bells ring at the familiar cadence of his voice, the way he perfectly crafts the syllables that make up your name.

"Um, I-" your eyes flit around his face; the tempting golden sheen of his skin under the gold casted hallway lighting, the fullness of his cheeks and his pretty lashes and the silver gleam of his lip-ring...

"What the fuck is that?" You practically yell, pulled out of your reverence at his handsomeness as the lip ring registers. It's a bold silver curve, resting temptingly in the middle of his plush bottom lip. It shines as if tempting you to look closer, to touch it, to feel it. Your stomach stirs at the fleeting thought of how the cold metal would pull an addicting contrast between the heated press of his lips.

"This?" He licks at the metal with his tongue and you suddenly feel the need to take a seat. "Got it a while ago, honestly. Off season stuff." He waves his hand nonchalantly as if you'd asked him if he wanted chocolate or vanilla cake. "You like it?" He arches a perfectly shaped brow and leans casually on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He's small and lithe for a hockey player, but you know that he has intimidating strength corded through his arms and the stamina to match.

Dumbly, you nod at his question. You like it a lot. Jimin lets out a heady laugh and you can only imagine how fucking stupid you look right now; slightly damp hair and a flushed bare face, mismatched sleep socks and these stupid lamb pajamas your mom got you for Christmas. Your face blanches at the sudden realization that the shorts were certainly too small for standing in a hotel hallway under Park Jimin's gaze.

"Wait, no, I'm here because Ken told me to come down and talk to you!" You backtrack quickly, pulling at the bottom hem of your t-shirt.

"Awe, come on Y/N, you mean you didn't want to come visit me for old times sake?" His electric eyes travel your bare legs. You grit your teeth and try to find the fire of anger in your stomach-the shield that's allowed you to ward off your feelings for him for so many years- but it's been replaced by the quivering attraction that never quite left.

"N-no, Jimin." You plant your hands on your hips; hoping to instill some of the social media manager persona back into your conversation. "That thing is a liability for you, and for me, it sounds like, because Ken sent me down here to take care of it. You'll have to get rid of it. It's out of regulations for the games." Jimin blinks owlishly, as if he had never considered that the piercing would be out of regulations.

"Really?" He licks the damn piercing again and your greedy eyes soak up every part; the perfect pinkness of his tongue and the way he maneuvers it around the metal in a tantalizing circle that's much too familiar. Your stomach simmers with arousal.

"Fuck, Jimin, yes. It really is out of regulations, and I would assume Ken saw some picture of you with it, and he's pissed and made it my problem because he isn't here yet. So please, for me, take it out for the games." When is this guy ever going to give you a break? You spent your entire teenage years pining for him and half of your college visits home tangled in his bedsheets, and now as a full fledged adult you're begging him to get his shit together so you can get considered for a promotion. "Please, Jimin, can you just do this one thing for me?" The exasperation of the night makes your voice whiny even to your own ears, and you can practically see Jimin's ears perk at the sound. A cheeky grin overtakes his features.

"If I remember correctly, I've done lots of things for you." You don't miss the shift in his voice; the darkened tone that haunted your dreams for months after you vowed to never speak to him again. Suddenly your throat feels dry and you choke on your rebuttal as he takes a confident stride into the hallway. You can smell the clean linen of his cologne and you instinctively close your eyes and take an inhale. Your nose flares and you swallow your impure thoughts.

"Listen." You poke a finger into his chest and immediately regret it; the firmness of his well toned muscles rejecting your jab. "Come on, Jimin. I'm begging you."

His chest shudders under your finger, and he's so close you can feel the exhale of his breath against your hair. You're frozen as he moves, clasping one of your shoulders with strong fingers. His grip makes your skin tingle as he lowers himself to match your stare.

"I seem to remember you being much better at begging, Y/N. Hmm? Want to try that again?"

Arousal lights your veins and your brain whirs into overdrive, screaming at you to follow the animal instinct clawing inside your gut. Unbidden flashes of your past with Jimin run through your mind: the grip of his hands on your plush hips as he drives himself into you, the paths of bruised kisses he left on your tits after hours of teasing them, the reddened claw marks you left on the bronzed skin of his back.

The current of dominance in his words sparks something dormant inside of you; the slumbering brattiness that you had converted into tenacity reborn. You surge up against him, closing the gap with a bruising kiss. He stumbles slightly in surprise but easily recovers, capturing you around the waist as you devour his mouth. The cool metal of the lip ring is just as addicting as you imagined it to be, wedged between the unending warmth of his plush lips. It's fucking addicting to be kissing him again as he pulls you against the hard planes of his body. There's no hesitation in his actions as he shoves his tongue into your mouth and you nipples pebble in response to the liquid heat he elicits in you.

Oxygen becomes useless to you the longer you kiss him. All that matters is the connection of your bodies, the slip of your tongues against one another. Your heart stutters with yearning as Jimin helps himself to a handful of your ass cheeks and you nip at his piercing playfully. A moan reverberates through him and he uses his grip on you to pull you impossibly closer, walking your bodies backward into his hotel room.

The change of scenery shocks you enough that you finally break from the kiss, panting from the exertion. The heavy door slams shut behind you as Jimin pushes it, perhaps a bit too hard. To your wild satisfaction Jimin looks just as winded as you feel. “Fuck,” he croaks the word and you smile, unable to hold back anymore. Something in your mind loosens, and you surge forward to fumble with the tie of his sweatpants. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and for a second you’re sure that the control he never gave you had become yours: that in the years you’d been apart he had shifted into a man who let you take. After so long of playing the sexy and mysterious playboy, Jimin had finally unraveled for you.

But his sudden strength re-emerges just as you begin to wiggle the fabric down his hips, and he captures your wrists under his palm. Forcing your wandering hands away, a familiar gleam of delight at your pliancy shadows his eyes.

“Oh, little girl, you know better than that, don’t you? Or did you forget how this goes for us?” He tuts dismissively but the passion on his face makes your knees weak. “You-“ he shuffles you closer to the king sized bed, “do what I want you to, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Arrogance colors his tone, and you have half a mind to tell him to shove it, but he guides your hands back to his cock and your brain shorts.

He’s hard, twitching under your touch as he holds your hands there, controlling the pressure of your touch. From your seated position on the bed you get a glorious view of the vein in his neck throbbing, and you regret not plastering any bruises onto his neck earlier. “You always were so good with your hands, Y/N. Fuck. Used to drive me crazy thinking about your hands on my dick.” The husk of his voice makes wetness pool between your thighs. It had been so long since you heard him like this but it was just as delicious as before. The pressure he holds on your hands relinquishes but it’s clear what he expects of you so you snake your hands under the layers of fabric dutifully.

You can’t help but tease him a bit, tracing the curve of his balls through the fabric of his expensive boxers. His hips jump forward and he bites out a warning that has you eager to feel the firm hotness of his bare cock in your hand. You shift forward to pull him free, and you keen at the sight of his cock.

A thatch of welcoming dark hair at the base, the length that puts your last boyfriend to shame, the pretty red-tinged head pulsing with a pearlescent shine of precum. Suddenly, you feel extremely empty.

The seam of your pajama shorts presses right where you need it, so you settle for rubbing your thighs together subtly for now. Your hand encases his length, starting with small gentle strokes that you know are doing nothing but driving him crazy. His stomach clenches and trembles as you start pumping him faster, relishing in the little jumps of his cock as your grip gets firmer.

“Feels so good,” the praise falls from him without thought and strikes a hot iron in your stomach, thighs rubbing together without much thought. “Pretty little hand on me like that, fuckin missed that.” The haze of arousal occupies you enough that you don’t allow yourself to overthink anything: instead taking the liberty to rub your thumb firmly over the tip of his cock. The precum aids your glide but you feel a devious idea sneak up on you and you promptly lean forward to spit directly onto his cock. The sound he makes is inhumane and you adore it, gobbling up the strained whimper of your name as he grasps your hair, hard.

Pleasure shoots down your spine at his grip and he grins slyly, calculating eyes shooting down to the quivering of your thighs. You don’t cease your hands, only adding the second to cup at his balls again while he appraises you. “My pretty little slut, spitting on my cock without me even asking.” He holds your hair harder, cocking your head just enough that you can’t look away from his smoldering eyes. “Are you my pretty little slut?”

You were expecting the question: a relic of your college aged trysts, but it still bowls you over like a semi truck.

“Y-yes, Jimin. ‘M your pretty little slut.” He grins so hard that his eyes scrunch and an approving sound rolls out of him. Your pussy throbs at that, hips canting forward as you mindlessly work your hands over his cock. “Do you need some help?” The grip on your hair disappears and you immediately miss it, the sting of your scalp serving as a beautiful reminder. It takes you a minute to decipher what he means, but the way his penetrating stare flickers between your eyes and your center clues you in. The seam of your shorts had been consistently stimulating you but not nearly enough for any kind of relief: you had soaked through them and your panties while Jimin spoke to you.

You pout at him and nod even though he really didn't need more persuasion. Jimin's quick to cup your pussy in his hand, rubbing his palm over the soaked fabric. Your grip on his cock tightens at his touch and he hisses approvingly, pressing harder against your pussy. You grind your hips upward in a bid to get him closer to your clit. The dull pressure of him cupping you entirely only heightens the neediness in your veins.

"Please, Jimin," you whine and petulantly drop your hands from him when he doesn't get the hint fast enough. Jimin arches a brow at you.

"Is this the game you wanna play, Y/N?" Only now do you realize that his hand has stilled as well, the heat of his palm radiating against your wetness. You shake your head, unable to bear the idea of being denied his touch any longer. "That's what I thought," he tuts. "Now be a good girl and keep touching me, and maybe I'll return the favor."

You immediately grasp for him again, making quick work of thumbing the vein running on the underside of his cock. Jimin returns the favor by honing in on your clit through the fabric of your shorts. You work each other in a lustful tandem, sharing moans until Jimin slips his fingers underneath the soaked layers of fabric on you. The feeling of his fingers on your bare pussy sends you reeling, hands doubling their work on him as he circles your clit with a nimble index finger.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gonna make me fucking cum," his hips stutter wildly under your grip and you smile, dopey on the satisfaction and the energy building in your core.

"Wanna make you cum," you supply, squeezing the head of his cock lightly. Jimin grunts heartily, head tipping back against his shoulders and you know you have him right there. Triumph squeezes your heart as you make quick deliberate strokes across his cock.

You hear him cum before you feel it, the beautiful tone of his voice husked with arousal. His hips stutter and buck against your hand as his cum paints your top and your palm, the sticky wetness oddly satisfying to your lust addled brain. A laugh of disbelief leaves him as your hand finally loosens. His own hand comes back to life and you gasp; surprised by his renewed energy so soon after coming.

His chest heaves as he bares down over you, leaning your body back onto the plush mattress. His eyes skate down to the mess he made of your shirt and a devious smirk decorates his face.

"Hmm, maybe we should get you out of this messy shirt?" His voice is invariably playful again and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

"Oh, I guess if you insist..." you bat your eyes playfully as he dislodges his hand from your pussy. It leaves you feeling oddly cold, but the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt distracts you.

"Can I?" The sheepish look on his face stuns you. After everything that had happened tonight, and all of the times he had taken the liberty of stripping you naked before, you're surprised to see the hesitation on his face.

"Yes, Jimin, if you're sure." You cup his face gently, thumbing the delicate metal of his lip ring. He nips at your fingertip and laves at the spot with his sinful tongue. The flush that stains your face is blocked by the fabric of your shirt as he shucks it off; and Jimin's gaze finds your tits immediately.

"So pretty," he pinches a nipple in reverence. "I missed these tits, Y/N. Missed you." You can't be sure if he meant to admit the last part, but hope strikes your heart regardless. He squishes your tits together and jiggles them, and for a second he's transformed back to the boyish college freshman he was when you first started to hook up; high on his new career as an athlete and the fame that came with it.

His tongue laves across the curves of your breasts, biting a bruise into the supple flesh right above your nipple. The pain transforms into arousal in a second, and your hips buck against him in silent question.

"Oh, can't have just half the outfit on, can we?" He dances his calloused fingers along the waistband of your tiny shorts before yanking them clean off, underwear easily going along with them. The rush of cool air that meets your pussy raises goosebumps along your skin.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll get you nice and warmed up again." Jimin cracks a feline smile and settles comfortably on his knees before parting your thighs. Wetness slicks between them and he hums in satisfaction.

His long hair tickles your legs and you already feel so overwhelmed that by the time he puts his mouth on you, your back is arching toward the ceiling. He presses a kiss to your pussy and the cold sting of his lip ring brings tears to your eyes. Jimin parts your lips with his fingers and allows himself to feast, licking you so thoroughly that you think this must be a holy experience.

Surely this is what divine intervention feels like: Park Jimin feasting on your pussy like a man starved, circling your clit with his tongue and teasing your throbbing entrance with his deft fingers. Your body is honed into every move he makes, and each twitch of his tongue and push of his fingers brings you closer to the sweet, blinding edge. Your hips squirm at the overwhelming sensations and Jimin nips at your clit in retaliation, throwing a strong arm over your lower stomach. Effectively holding you in place, he redoubles his efforts and slides two fingers home, stretching your walls at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

The hot wetness of your arousal, his mouth, the slip of his tongue against you, and the shockingly chilled press of that god damn lip ring send you into happy oblivion. An inhumane string of noises rips from your throat as you come, writhing against the sheets as white heat flashes behind your eyelids. You vaguely register Jimin's fingers pushing you through the high as he laps the last bits of arousal out of you.

"There's my pretty little slut," he purrs as you settle. Your thighs twitch as he pulls his hand away to smooth down the hairs sticking to your face. It takes you a few blinks to register the pretty grin on his face, but you return it with ease.

"Never get rid of that thing." You gesture vaguely to his mouth and a puff of laughter runs across your face. He tongues at it thoughtfully, and even though you had just come, your pussy throbs again.

"Funny, about an hour ago you were begging me to take it out."

You slap his chest noncommittally, still weakened from your explosive orgasm. Jimin pecks your forehead and you keen. A softness appears around his edges as he looks down on you; and even in your bare faced, sweaty state you feel adored.

"I missed you too," the words burst forward before you can rethink it. It'd been swimming around in your mind since you accepted your job offer and caught sight of him for the first time in years. Although neither of you were ever bold enough to make it official, there was no denying the magnetic attraction you shared.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you said that. I have so much I wanna talk to you about-" he presses another delicate kiss to the corner of your lips and you grin. "But I am so hard right now, can we please talk later?" He rolls his hips against you and the evidence is clear. Your brain blanks, replacing the fuzzy adoration with sharp, demanding need.

"Uh huh, talk later. Need you now." Jimin makes short work of his shirt at your approval. His instagram modeling presence has made you no stranger to the sight of his bared chest; but the toned muscles of his pecs and abs scramble your mind. His skin nearly twinkles under the light, and whether its a trick of your mind or the evidence of a very fancy moisturizer, you're just happy to be in his presence.

"Flip," he orders, voice devoid of the sweetness it held just moments before. A shiver wracks your spine as you follow his instructions, flipping onto your hands and knees and obediently curving your back. Jimin hums in praise and you feel renewed energy course through your veins.

He traces the curve of your ass, ghosting his touch around the sensitive skin. You can't see him but you can picture the self satisfied grin on his face as he relishes in the smooth skin. The touch of his lips against your full cheek shocks you and you rock forward into the bed. Jimin bites into the flesh firmly and you moan at the feeling of his sharp canines. You can imagine the blooming bruise that will be there by the morning, and the mere idea of the sore reminder of this night makes your core throb.

"Do you-" Jimin's words die in this throat. "Do you have any condoms?" The punch of reality has you sagging into the sheets. Of course you didn't. The last thing you expected was for this night to unfold like it did. Heavy disappointment weighs your heart.

"I didn't bring any, I haven't..." he trails off again and you wait a few breathless seconds for his words before you twist your upper body so you can see his face. His cheeks are flushed a rosy red that's so endearing your heart squeezes. If it weren't for his evident arousal you would think he had just woken up from a long, restful sleep.

"I haven't been with anyone in a while." He gives you a sheepish smile and you nod in understanding.

"Me either." The admission passes between the two of you like calm water, cooling the tension until a storm whips up in Jimin's eyes. His cocky grin returns as he palms himself.

"I'm clean, are you?" You nod, body reacting to his insinuation before your mind can fully catch up.

"I'm on the pill," you breathe the words as if you can't believe them, and Jimin looks absolutely ravenous. He runs two thick fingers up your pussy, gathering the heady arousal that already has you slippery and stretched for him.

"Gonna let me get in you raw, huh?" He shuffles forward until you can feel the tip of his cock pressed against your folds. He holds his cock against you with his thumb as he glides, careful not to enter you prematurely.

"If I woulda known all it took was a few years apart..." you huff a rueful laugh that transforms into a moan as he slips the head of his cock into you.

"Oh fuck-" Jimin wastes no time in sliding in until he is seated fully inside of you. Your walls pulse around him and you can feel drool pooling in your mouth. He takes a handful of each of your asscheeks and pulls your body against his own, a little experiment to see just how greedy your pussy is for him.

An obscene squelch sounds between your bodies and it only spurs Jimin into further action.

"Fucking perfect little ass and pussy swallowing me up." Jimin moves impossibly fast, taking care to sheath his entire cock inside of you hard before pulling out. Your finger nails rake through the comforter as the waves of pleasure ripple through you. Jimin's body encases your own, trapping you under the strength of his muscles and heat of his sweaty skin. With his chest pressed to your back, his cock drives into you at a brand new angle that makes your toes curl with delight. Jimin's sinful lips find a home at the juncture of your neck and he seems more than happy to decorate you with hickeys to match the one on your ass. The addicting drag of his cock pairs with the tickling cold of his lip ring each time his mouth lands on you, and the sensory overload has your stomach clenching.

You have completely lost control of your mouth and allowed the animalistic sector of your brain to take over as Jimin fucks you stupid. His own incoherent grunts vibrate against your neck in fragments. "Pretty...good little slut...fuck..."

Your eyes roll as he slows his thrusts, aiming for the perfect spot that makes your legs jelly. It only takes him a few moments to find it, and the world quickly becomes washed with tears.

You hiccup his name as he steadies a hand around your abdomen, sneakily playing with your clit.

"You gonna come for me, Y/N? Get my cock all nice and wet just like you're supposed to?" He braces his unoccupied hand overtop of you, clutching the headboard with flexing muscles. His presence is suffocating in the best possible way and you feel like you're drowning in Jimin.

"Such a perfect little pussy. So hot and wet for me all the time." His voice wavers and his thumb catches your clit just right. A dark chuckle graces your senses just as you tip into oblivion.

Your entire body contracts and shivers under him as you cum, Jimin's hips driving you forward until you collapse into the comforter in a fit of cries. It feels like you come forever, leaking waves of arousal around Jimin as his hips slap against your own.

"Good job, baby. I-I'm gonna come, you feel so good." You whine and plead for him, ready for the electric feeling of him filling you with his cum. You're still feeling shaky when he comes, driving his hips as far forward as possible as he fills you. Beautiful airy moans leave him as he grinds against you, relishing in the sloppy warmth of your mixed cum.

His hips slow their movement but his mouth never ceases, spilling praise and planting kisses along your back until he's spent. When he pulls out you instantly feel empty, whining as his cum slides out with him. Both of you are too spent to do anything about it, but Jimin watches with hooded eyes from beside you as it leaks onto the comforter. It's scary how suddenly the sleepiness hits you, and you reach near blindly for the man next to you.

You must look exhausted because he coos and pecks a kiss over your nose. "You can sleep here." You giggle and crack your eyes open and find him so close that you can see the irregularities of his teeth as he grins.

"Good, cause I'm not walkin' back to my room now. Even if I could walk, my clothes are ruined." His face flushes at the reminder of your debauchery. He licks his lips and your eyes catch on that damned lip ring again.

"You really will have to take that out for the games," you run your thumb across it again, obsessed with the feeling.

"I know," he whispers, and then his lips are ghosting over your own for permission. This kiss is nothing like the one you shared at the top of the night. It's gentle and slow and punctuated with a deep connection that runs years deep. Despite how much you had done tonight, this kiss feels the most intimate of all.

No more words need to be exchanged as he helps you sit up and walks you to the bathroom with some pajamas from his bag. He patiently waits outside as you pee-both of you agreeing that you weren't quite ready to be that available with one another- and he lends you a bit of his face wash in earnest.

The comforter is stripped from the bed by the time you're back, and he's pulled the extra pillows from the linen closet to accommodate for you. You shuffle under the sheets and are happy to find them just as silky as your own were. Jimin slips in next to you, fully clothed again, and promptly kills the bedside lamp.

Sleepiness overtakes you almost instantly then, and it's so dark that you rely on the pattern of his breath to gauge if Jimin is still awake.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird for all that time, I- I was just scared that I would say the wrong thing." You speak to the surrounding darkness, and for a minute you think that maybe you missed the short window of opportunity. But then Jimin gives a thoughtful hum, shuffling so that he can tuck your body against his chest. His response is muffled by your hair.

"It's okay. We were young and stupid last time. I hope you'll let us try again." Your heart swells and you hum in affirmation and snuggle back against him. "Tomorrow?" You offer, the hazy edge of sleep just seconds away.

"Tomorrow." Jimin agrees before your consciousness drops easily into dreamland.

[amsgrey]

Can you do a story of the Halstead siblings with their younger sister (14 or 15). They all have a family dinner (Will, Jay, and Y/n) together and movie night and Y/n starts choking and Will has to save her but they comfort her and they get all scared and protective and have to take her into the hospital to get checked

Deja Vu

Warnings: Hospital stay, mention of seizures and vague insinuations of epilepsy, terrible writing, not proofread and general bad understanding of medical conditions and procedures lol

read part II here.

Sunday night dinners were Halstead tradition and you liked to think there was nothing that would stop it. That was until one of your brothers had a work emergency and was called in. For the last two weeks, one of your brothers couldn't make it, so as a way of making up for it, they both made sure to be there this Sunday.

As a way of making up got it, Will promised to make mac and cheese and garlic bread. You grinned and claimed it was the best winter comfort food. Jay rolled his eyes, for reasons beyond you he wasn't the biggest fan of Mac and Cheese. He claimed it was because it was all you ate when you were younger and he got sick of only eating it for days on end.

You rolled your eyes, "You can't be related to me."

You were sandwiched between both of your brothers on the couch, watching the game with dinner on your lap. You were tucked under a blanket with fluffy socks and comfy PJ pants on. Jay and Will were focused entirely on the hockey game on the TV. You were chewing on a piece of garlic bread when Jay and Will started cheering at the screen.

You felt like your soul left your body from the fright. You should have been expecting them to start cheering, but you were too engrossed in your garlic bread to realize. You started to chuckle, trying to clear your throat of the garlic bread that had lodged there when you had gasped from the shock.

Will and Jay didn't seem to notice, you were always kind of jumpy. Especially when they started cheering loudly for their team. You coughed a few more times, only succeeding in getting the bread stuck in your throat more. You started to panic, now the bread was choking you fully, blocking the air you kept gasping for.

You coughed a few more times, grabbing Wills forearm and clenching tightly.

"You okay?" Will asked, giving you a few hard pats on the back.

You shook your head, grabbing your chest as your throat started to burn.

"Y/N?" Jay asked, turning his full attention to you and trying to sooth you with a hand on your back.

You were sure the world was moving slowly, the last few seconds were dragging so excruciating slow. Will started to get more worried when you stopped coughing, not gasping at all. He quickly got to his feet, pulling you up off the couch and trying to dislodge the bread with the heimlich. In the process you were sure he moved all of your organs but it was a fleeting thought that flashed through your oxygen deprived mind.

"Will, it's not working," Jay said, standing in front of you with a terrified look.

"I know, Jay," Will said back, just as panicked, "I know."

By now, you were sure thing were slowing down. In the corner of your eyes you could see the hockey game continuing, but it was like the the player were moving at half the speed they normally did. The sounds of the room started the echo and distort, your brain fighting your lungs for oxygen and not able to win.

Eventually, Wil gave up on the heimlich. Feeling you grow more and more limp in his arms. His brain was clouded with his own panic, he had to fight himself to help you and not freeze in terror. He lay you down on the ground, watching your face that was filled with panic.

He pressed two fingers to your neck, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingertips.

"Jay," Will called, "I need you to get me a knife and a pen."

Jay hesitated, "A pen-?"

"Yes!" Will shouted back, "Just do it!"

Jay rushed out of the room. WIll could hear him frantically opening drawers and rummaging through them. Moments later he came back with the knife and pen, shoving the knife towards Will and waiting for his further instructions.

Jay had seen enough things on the job to know what was coming next. He watched you pass out, completely limp on the floor at his knees. Will ordered him to unscrew the pen, then get on the phone with 911 and get an ambulance there straight away.

Jay did what he was told, watching as Will cranked his little sister with the little supplies he had on hand. When Will had finished his makeshift crank, he breathed a few breathes into the pen to try prompt your body to breathe for itself.

What felt like an entirenity later there was a loud knock on the door. Jay raced to the door to let the two paramedics in.

"Dr Halstead?" Brett asked, shocked to see him hovering over his little sisters limp body.

Will started to rattle off what had happened, but he stumbled over his words unable to fully explain. He worked in a high pressure environment every day but now he was struggling to get the words out to help his own sister. Brett and Violet weren't at all fazed, just immediately started working. Jay and Will helped them transfer you to the stretcher then the ambulance.

Will climbed into the back, vaguely registering Jay say he would follow in his truck. Will's mind was racing, he wasn't sure exactly how long it took before he could get you oxygen again. It felt like forever, but it couldn't have been more than 4 minutes. What if it was 5? Will knew the likelihood of a hypoxic brain injury increased significantly after 3 minutes, he had no idea how this would turn out.

The drive to Med felt even slower, Will fumbled with his phone to call ahead to Maggie, knowing she would have things prepared.

"Hey Will," Maggie answered, the sounds of the ED almost overpowering her voice.

"Maggie," Will's voice broke, "i- uh"

Will had to pause, compose himself.

"I'm on the way with Y/n, she- uh, she choked. I need abrams," Will stuttered.

Maggie was silent on the other end for a few seconds, "How far out are you?"

Will relayed the question to Brett in the front, who called back, "4 minutes!"

"We'll be ready, Will," Maggie said.

Jay hadn't left your bedside the whole night. After getting you to med, Dr Abrams had completed a neurological exam that had given Jay a sickening sense of Deja Vu. It felt so much like what they had gone through with your dad. You had only been 6 when he had died, you knew nothing about what was happening. Jay and Will had to try and shelter you from it all. But now Jay had the same sinking feeling.

The only thing that was keeping him sane was the way Dr Abrams had said your results were promising.

Will came and stayed for a few hours, before an emergency had Ms Goodwin asking for his help in the ED. It didn't bother Jay, he knew Will was just outside the doors should he need him.

It was almost 3 in the morning when the monitors started beeping in a strange symphony. Jay looked over at the array of screens, but he knew nothing about what was going on. He got up quickly, pulling open the door and calling for Maggie.

Maggie took one look and sent over Dr Archer, ordering himaroudn while she paged Abrams.

Dr Archer took one look at the screens and declared, "She's overbreathing the vent."

He headed to the screen nearby, punching in some numbers or whatever he needed to do. Jay was more focused on you and how you were. He only looked up when Will came bounding into the room followed by Dr Abrams.

They conversed and decided on trialing taking you off the ventilator, knowing there would be a risk but ultimately it was worth it. Extubation went well, Dr Archer sutured the hastily cut crank and promised to check in later. Abrams had hovered as well, he mentioned something about a test but that he would have to transfer you to the neuro floor to run it.

Jay nodded along but understood little of what was being said. Will handled the doctor talk, just gently guiding Jay about what was happening once everyone had left the room.

Will stood at the end of the bed, "Doesn't this give you Deja Vu?"

Jay looked from your peaceful face and then to Will, "I can't do this again, Will. I can't."

Will nodded, he walked around the bed and pressed a hand to your forehead, smoothing back your hair from your face, "I won't let it."

When you finally came round your brothers had to use every ounce self control not to pull you into the tightest hug.

You smiled and gave a little finger wave, but were too exhausted to do much else. Jay pressed a kiss to your forehead, muttering about being relieved that you were okay. You let out a quiet reply but couldn't muster much of an answer.

Will did pull you into a gentle hug, holding you close but being careful not to squash you. He pulled away with a big grin, you could see the relief in his eyes.

Will relayed information to you about how Dr Abrams wanted to observe you overnight on the Neuro floor but that hopefully you would be able to. gohome soon after. You were much too exhausted to complain or argue, just nodding along and letting them transfer you upstairs.

Jay refused to leave your side, he stayed right beside you for as long as he could. You had gone back to sleep after being transferred and Jay hovered the whole time holding your hand or stroking your hair off your face.

Will came in at 5 am with coffees, dressed for his upcoming shift.

"How is she?" He asked, handing his brother the coffee.

Jay sighed, "Tired but okay I think."

Will nodded, taking a seat opposite Jay and looking over you, "She'll be okay."

Jay could only nod.

Your brothers watched you sleep for a few more moments before Dr Abrams came in and interrupted the peace.

"Dr Halstead," Dr Abrams started. It woke you up with a fright, the sudden noise clearing the drowsiness from your brain.

"Hey, hey," Will grabbed your hand and cradled your cheek with his other hand, "It's okay. Take it easy."

Will smiled as you relaxed again, sucking in a deep breath.

You let out a small yawn, "Sorry, i just... got..."

Will frowned as you paused in the middle of your sentence, staring off into space instead of looking at him like you were before.

"Y/N?" he said, trying to draw your attention back to him.

After a few seconds you blinked a few times, looking back at your brother and frowning, "What?"

Will looked startled, he looked from you to Dr Abrams, who looked just as surprised as Will.

Abrams came around the bed and stood at your side, "Y/N, can you tell me what just happened?"

You just looked at him with a frown.

Abrams gestured for Will to follow him out of the room, "I think what we just witnessed was an absence seizure."

Will scrubbed a hand down his face, "So what do we do?"

"We do an EEG, hope that it's a temporary symptom of the Anoxic Injury."

"But you don't think it's temporary do you," Will pressed. He worked with Abrams enough to know his bad news face.

"I don't," Abrams confirmed, "I've had patients who have TBI's have epileptic seizures."

Will couldn't form words, unable to even respond to Dr Abrams.

"Will," Jay stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms sternly. "What's going on?"

[goodnightoilcountry]

don't overthink when you could be loving me - sebastian aho

summary: Your inadvertent friendship with some of the Canes players was not something you advertized in your day-to-day life. But an evening of Friday night drinks changes that when you find yourself trapped in the same bar with your co-workers and one love-struck Sebastian Aho who’s determined to make it known that you’re spoken for… well, tentatively that is. 

word count: 6.2k

author's note: one month in the making and i'm not even convinced that this is of any quality. but if i don't put it out now, i never will. i'm going to do another proofread but don't worry, if there are going to be any edits, it'll just be fixing up typos / grammar.

tag list: @kashee-h

You won’t lie. You weren’t always the biggest believer in keeping your personal life and work life separate. 

Despite the numerous warnings about how “your colleagues are not your friends”, you couldn’t help but merge the two words into a synonymous figure. By this point in your life, you could probably ballpark that half of your closest friends were acquired from the various roles you were appointed. You’ve always felt like you’ve lucked out in that department. 

The moment when your luck seemed to wear out was at your very first grad role. 

With a newly minted finance degree in one hand and just about $50,000 in the other, the bar wasn’t set particularly high in terms of quality for a grad role. So when you received the congratulatory phone call from human resources, you didn’t care about the questionably low pay or how weirdly vague your interviewers were about overtime practices, you were just happy to finally have something substantial splashed across your resume. 

Your first month wasn’t anything to write home about. As expected, everyone was cordial, you were given grunt work, and you would routinely eat tune rice and veg for lunch - something that was weirdly unique to the corporate world. 

Where the comfort flipped was the night that the firm hosted its annual Thank You Dinner. What was announced as a company event hosted by the executives to say thank you to its employees for their efforts was actually disguised as a night of debauchery at the expense of the firm’s bottom line - but you didn’t know that yet. 

So when a passing comment about the Canes turns into a full-blown conversation piece at your table, your wine-induced lips couldn’t help but let something slip. 

It’s not like you ran around advertising the fact that you were family friends with Seth Jarvis growing up. But hockey culture was thriving in Raleigh and moments where a mention of the Canes wasn’t thrown into the mix rarely occurred. 

More often than not, you were happy to pass on any unused tickets that Seth had reserved in your name every year. Of course, generally, nobody questions where the tickets came from the first time around - free tickets are free tickets. But by the fourth round? Who would still believe that you just accidentally purchased lower-bowl seats not knowing you already had plans? 

You would eventually let up that maybe you were better acquainted with the Canes than on just a last-name and number basis. And the reactions that followed usually panned out the same way. You’d receive looks that crossed between amazement and disbelief, followed by thirty minutes of inquisitioning, and then the excitement of the news would eventually fade before moving on to something salacious that had happened earlier that week. 

But the news of your affiliation that night was volatile. 

Suddenly, your tickets weren’t viewed as a generous offering but rather as a right. People in different departments whom you had never met started taking you out for lunches with a casual mention of how they hadn’t ever been to a live game; your boss expected you to give them up for the sake of appeasing potential clients; girls would invite you out with the hopes of them showing up to wherever you were. 

You handed in your resignation six months later. 

So when you signed your letter of offer for your new role, you made a silent promise to yourself to keep that portion of your life separate. So, you distanced yourself. 

Seth had noticed. He had known that you would occasionally give up your tickets when you knew you weren’t able to make a game. But as more and more weeks had passed, he had maybe seen your seats filled twice: once by a few of your closest girlfriends and the other was when your parents had come to town for a long weekend. 

Outings with him and the team became infrequent as you declined to attend any sort of public event that would bear the risk of you being caught out by your new colleagues. And when you were eventually questioned why, you simply excused that your new job had you locked down. 

The second person to notice your increasing absence was Sebastian. 

Since Seth’s rookie days, you had been, on more than several occasions, his plus one to team events. And over the years, you had gotten to know some of the younger members who were able to keep up with Seth’s redbull-fueled energy. That included Sebastian. 

The first time you had actually properly spoken to him was at a Canes charity gala. Seth and KK had been swept into a conversation by a few board members, leaving you to quietly people-watch from your assigned seat. 

****

“Refill?” 

You turned to find Sebastian with an arm extended out; a glass of champagne delicately sat between his fingers. You returned a grateful smile as he sat down in Seth’s seat. 

“You manage to avoid the noise fest?” you lightly poked, looking over at Seth where Andrei and Jack were now caught. 

He let out a laugh and shook his head while looking down, “I’ve definitely done my fair share of the sucking up.”

“You didn’t feel like joining your boyfriend?” 

You choked on your drink as soon as the assumption left his mouth. You couldn’t help but begin laughing as you coughed up a response, “Oh my god, no. Seth and I grew up together back home. Our parents were close friends.” 

His cheeks flushed red at the revelation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you’ve come to a few of these things with him before and you’re at our games a lot,” he tried to reason as he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the embarrassment. 

You shook your head with the same amused donned across your face, “he’s really never mentioned that we grew together as kids?”

“I’m sure he’s mentioned it but it’s hard to catch everything he says. He talks… a lot.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the blunt statement. 

You had found it easy to talk to Sebastian. The conversation flowed seamlessly, from the standard questioning of each other’s jobs to the shared ache of missing home. Before you knew it, Seth had returned with a sheepish look on his face; apologetic for his disappearance but not missing the flash of disappointment across his teammate’s face when you said goodnight. 

After that, the trajectory of your relationship with Sebastian had shifted into something more. Sure, you both became closer as friends, growing comfortable in the presence of one another. But as time went on you couldn’t help but feel like the line between you two would occasionally go hazy; blurring completely on a night out following a hard-fought win. 

****

Every summer that comes around reminds you of how incomprehensible the energy can be in Raleigh. 

The city came alive as holidayers passed through, the nights drew out longer, and the cool drinks were more than welcome from people who were looking to escape the heat. Which is how you found yourself sitting at a beer hall three blocks from your office in downtown Raleigh.  

Unsurprisingly, the bar was packed on a Friday evening and you could only expect it to ramp up even more when your eyes fell on the sight of a band setting up stage for the night. 

“Here, grab these first and I’ll bring over the rest.”

Maddy slides over 3 glasses to you and pulls out her card to start a tab for the table. You met Maddy on your first day when you were doing the round with HR. They had introduced her as your “office buddy”, to which Maddy later rolled her eyes at and reassured you that she wouldn’t be as micro-managing as they had made it out to be. 

She took you to lunch and gave you her version of the onboarding special which basically involved giving you the run down of who you didn’t want to piss off if you ever wanted to be promoted. 

It wasn’t long before you both became each other’s go-to person at work when things went to shit and sometimes the occasional debrief session at Thursday wines where she updated you about how her dating life was tracking. 

You pull together the glasses and place them into a firm grasp between your hands before turning around to make a beeline for the table with Maddy trailing behind you. There are a few familiar faces from your team and some that you don’t think you’ve ever met before but you know that Maddy is a big fan of getting into the good graces of other departments. 

Your phone screen lights up before you can even take a sip from the glass causing you to divert your attention. 

Last weekend before we’re due back for pre-season training. Come out with us tonight? - Jarvy 

You feel a pang of guilt with the sudden reminder that Seth just unintentionally gave you. 

Your MIA-ness had begun a month before the playoffs started. Granted you still followed every game from the comfort of your home, but your continued in-person absence did not go unnoticed. Even more so after the 4-0 Conference Finals loss to the Panthers, where Sebastian wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of your presence to ease the heartbreak. 

Instead, he had to settle for an “I’m sorry.” text. 

And in your defence, you had tried to see him when they returned home but the timing was never quite right as Sebastian took off for Finland a few weeks later as a last-minute guest for his cousin’s wedding. 

You were able to catch Seth a handful of times before he also took flight: Winnipeg for home, Chicago for Lollapalooza, and Cabo with KK and Svech from the look of his Instagram stories. 

He waved away your apologies and said he understood that you were flat out with work and that he hoped you weren’t working yourself too hard. All you could do was return a meek smile and be thankful that he didn’t press about it further. 

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to rack your brain for an excuse that wouldn’t leave any room for further persuasion. 

Sorry :( feeling too run down from the week. Next time though! 

You take one more look at your phone as Seth sends you the ‘Boo, You Whore!’ gif from Mean Girls, causing you to crack a small smile. 

“Better offer somewhere else?” 

Your head snaps up and meets the eyes of one of the unfamiliar faces sitting across you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Charlie, I just joined the legal counsel,” he offers with a smile. And it’s a pretty damn good smile too.

You’re quickly swept up into a conversation with Charlie. You learn that he recently relocated from Boston, he has a labrador named Ollie, and that he’s heard of a fantastic restaurant down the road that he’s been “dying” to check out with someone. That last part is followed with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  

He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that much. Maybe a year ago he would have been your type. But lately, you’ve seemed to turn away from the sharp jawlines and blue eyes, and instead look for softer and warmer features with maybe a small scar carved into the bottom of their lip...

Wait, what? 

You shake the thought out of your head and instead focus back on Charlie’s current story: some embarrassing run-in with your boss, on his first day. 

You’re shaking from laughter at this point, “No way! Did she say anything to you later on?” 

Charlie grins as he places his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was such a shame job. When I got my first official meeting with her, it was-” 

You watch him trail off as his eyes dart to look at you. No, not at you. Behind you? 

“Well, well, well. Feeling better, eh?” 

You recognize that shit-eating tone anywhere. 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. You turn around and find Seth smirking down at you like he’s found a deer in the headlights. 

“Must have been a pretty quick recovery considering you were sick only two hours ago,” he derides, sliding into the empty spot next to you. You’ve only just realized that your whole table is now empty besides you and Charlie. A quick whip around tells you that they’ve all moved to the nearby pool tables. 

“Seth,” you say calmly, “what are you doing here?” 

“I told you. Last weekend before practice starts.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t even like it here. I’ve literally heard you call it the worst bar in the world,” you argue back.

Seth’s about to open his mouth for some quick retaliation but Charlie beats him to it. 

“You’re Seth Jarvis,” he says. The look he gives is nothing short of bewilderment as he puts together that Seth Jarvis knows you. 

“Hey man, how you doing? Always nice to meet a fan,” Seth nods with an outstretched hand to Charlie. 

Charlie slowly shakes his hand, still reeling in from the newfound piece of information he’s just learned. “Oh, well I’m from Boston so not exactly a fan of you.” 

Seriously? Who even says something like that? 

You refuse to meet Seth’s side eye in an attempt to dodge the embarrassment you feel from Charlie’s unwarranted dig. He’s unsure how to respond to the hostility but the moment of awkwardness is cleared by a second voice appearing. 

“Jarvy, Burnsie found a table outside - let’s go...”

Your head snaps towards the voice and you find Sebastian looking right back. He’s taken aback and stumbles on his words for a second but recomposes himself just as quickly. 

“Hey, where have you b-,” he begins to step forward but falters as his eyes properly assess the scene before him. You and Charlie. Together. Alone. 

“Oh. Are you in the middle of something?” he hesitates, flickering between you and Charlie; unsure of what to make of the situation. 

Your eyes widen slightly before clearing your throat, “Oh, um no. This is Charlie. He recently moved to our office from Boston.” 

God, you feel so small right now. Here you were, seeing Sebastian for the first time in months and you can’t even muster up the courage to properly say hello. 

“Well, we’re gonna go back to our table. Find us at some point, yeah?” 

Seth gives Charlie a final cautious look before he pats Sebastian on the back, guiding them both to a table on the veranda. 

The rest of your group comes flooding back to the table having witnessed the sight unfold from afar. If Charlie keeps his mouth shut, surely you can play it off as a lucky fan interaction?

“Holy shit! Do you know who they were? Tell me you do because I will seriously freak if you tell me you don’t know,” Maddy furiously whispers with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know, Maddy. Seemed like she’s more than well-acquainted by the look on Aho’s face,” Charlie said dryly, bringing a bottle to his lips with a raised eyebrow. 

You’re a bit taken aback by his insinuation. 

“Um, Seth and I grew up together back home,” you slowly let out, “it was just a coincidence that we both ended up in Raleigh.” 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re friends with Seth Jarvis? Are you kidding me? You’ve only heard me talk about the Canes like a thousand times,” she gapes at you with an incredulous look. 

Here we go. 

The rest of your group wasn’t privy to your admission, being too caught up with the sight of the team being mere yards away from them. 

“Look, I don’t know. I just don’t like using his name like that. It makes me feel gross.” you sigh, rubbing your arms. 

“I’d just rather we drop it. Please?” 

You shoot her a look to which Maddy softens; understanding that the topic has hit a bit of a sore spot for you. 

“Okay yeah, of course. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” 

The mass intrigue of the boys’ presence soon dies off as people slowly realize that they’re about as interesting to watch drinking as the next table is. Conversations resume back to normal and you try your best to feign interest but the knowledge that he’s the closest that you guys have been in months won’t leave you alone. 

So twenty more minutes pass by and you’re ready to throw in the towel. You’ve decided that you’ll deal with the situation another day - preferably when you can string together a proper sentence. After a quick goodbye and the promise of a home-safe text to Maddy, you gather your things and start making headway for the exit. 

The weakness in you can’t help but take one final look at Sebastian before you step out for the night but he’s beaten you to it. His eyes are already fixed on you with the same look you had become all too familiar with. 

****

Saturday night. Seth’s Birthday. Shut-out win over Vegas. No game scheduled until Wednesday. 

Individually, they’re considered lawfully good events. Combined? It’s as if someone was testing to see if Carolina even knew the definition of chaos. And when have they ever backed down from a challenge? 

You let out a huff of air as you fall back into the booth. You had finally managed to escape Seth and Jesperi from the dance floor. If there was ever a case to be made about the negative long-term effects of Redbull, those two were it. 

“Oh my god, how were you even out there for that long?” 

Martin’s girlfriend, Nykki, opens up her arm and lets you lean in. Her leather jacket is a cool contrast to your warm and flushed body. 

“Don’t let them take me again,” you whine as the ache in your feet comes flooding in. She giggles and affectionately pats your head. 

Your eyes skim over the crowd, taking count of where everyone was. Brady, Kuzy and Martin by the bar. Andrei, Jack and Pyotr occupied with a group of girls. Seth and Jesperi still unabashedly dancing but now sporting a pair of shades that you had a sneaky suspicion they found on the floor. As if your eyes knew before your brain, they’re scanning the room again to find what’s missing. 

“He stepped away to the bathroom.” 

Your eyes tear away from the crowd and you sit yourself up, pulling the closest drink to your lips to avoid the direction Nykki is heading.

“He was watching you all night, you know? Didn’t listen to a damn thing I said,” she nudges with a knowing smirk. You didn’t think it was possible for your face to heat up anymore. Your continued silence doesn’t deter Nykki though as she decides that she will get you to admit something that you’re not even sure you’re ready to admit to yourself. 

“Why are you both dancing around this? It’s obvious that he likes you. And maybe you won’t ever admit it to me but I can tell that you like him,” Nykki softens, acutely aware that Sebastian could return to the booth at any moment. 

“Do you…” you hesitate, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Do you ever feel like you’re too exposed sometimes?” 

She furrows her brows, “What do you mean?” 

“There’s this thing that happens, and maybe it’s not often but it happens, where people expect things just because of who you know.

And if it’s true for just simply being friends with Seth, will it be worse if you’re involved with them?” 

“A hockey player definitely wasn’t my first choice,” she says after a moment. “And maybe I wish I knew what it would have meant to be with him.” 

“But,” she quickly recovers, watching your expression fall, “I wouldn’t change anything. It’s not about the world that he can offer me like everyone thinks it is. It’s how he always shows up for me, even when he’s 3000 miles away. It’s those private moments that are enough to make me forget the world is watching us.”

You catch the glowing adoration that’s etched into her face when she gazes across the room, watching her boyfriend laughing with Brady. You’re so wrapped up in ruminating over Nykki’s words that you almost don’t feel the way the cushion sinks next to you. 

“Are you done with that?” 

Sebastian’s voice grounds you back to reality. “Oh, I am but I’ll get another soon.” 

Before you can stop him, he slides back out of the booth again and flags down a bartender. And Nykki doesn’t take a beat to do the same, “I think I’ll join the others,” sending you a small wink. 

Sebastian slides back in setting down three glasses, two for you and one for him. “I thought you’d want some water too. Jarvy didn’t look like he was going to let you leave at any point,” he offers with a smile. 

You let out a laugh and shake your head, “The trick is to run the second he turns his back. Trust me, works every time.” 

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Me? What about you? 3 assists and a goal? Surely that’s what we’re really celebrating tonight,” you whistle as you twirl the straw between your fingers. 

You don’t miss the way he almost immediately shies up, turning away with the crack of a smile threatening to take over.

“I couldn’t have done it without the guys, they make all of it happen,” he notions. 

You roll your eyes immediately, “I forget how well media-trained you guys are sometimes.” 

“You should be able to enjoy your successes. It’s not about the other guys not being talented, it’s about being able to reflect on how far you’ve come. All of this is the culmination of your dedication, Sebastian. It’s important to remember that.” 

The silence he returns suddenly fills you with regret. Did you say too much? Was it even your place to say anything at all? You need to backpeddle. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -” you sigh, pushing away your drink. 

“No,” he quickly cuts, “I guess I’ve just never thought about it like that. But it does feel good to hear it.” 

“I like having you at our games” he smiles. “You know you’re part of my warm-up routine?” 

“I am?” 

“Yeah, I play this little game where I try to spell people’s names as fast as I can with the puck. I tried yours once and we won, so I did it the next night and we won again. Now I do it every game to put a little luck into the ice.”

Fuck. His confession renders you speechless. If there were any more doubts about your feelings for Sebastian, they were well and truly effaced now. And suddenly you gain a partial understanding of what Nykki meant. For every game, whether you’re there or not, Sebastian carves a part of you into it. 

You swallow, giving yourself a moment to recollect. “I didn’t think that I was such a game changer,” you softly let out.

You’re not exactly sure when or how it happened but you notice the proximity between you two has significantly lessened. And the arm he has strewn behind you on the top cap suddenly feels misplaced - like they would feel more at home around you. 

And for a brief moment - between the silence you’re both too afraid to break - his eyes break away from yours and flick towards your lips.

He inches closer, “You are… everything.” 

Your breath hitches. Before you can even stop yourself, your hand rests against his neck, gently pulling him in and Sebastian is more than willing to follow. This is it. 

“Guys! KK said his friend can get us into this new club!” 

Your eyes close shut and your hand drops down Sebastian. An agitated sigh leaves him as he reluctantly pulls back. You both look at each other, still caught in the moment that’s now fleed at the sound of Seth’s voice. 

Seth shakes Sebastian, forcing him to break away from your gaze. 

“Did you hear me? KK’s calling us an Uber,” Seth bounces. Not a beat later, Nykki appears and attempts to forcefully pull him away. But it’s Seth. And of course, rightfully so, he wants two of his best friends to come with. 

You quickly down the rest of your drink and step out of the booth, not wanting to bask in the awkwardness any longer. As you step outside, the chill of the wind grounds you back into reality, and you instinctively wrap your hands around your arms. In the peripheral of your vision, you see Nykki rush towards you. 

“I’m so sorry. I tried to grab onto him but he just moved so quickly.” 

You return a small smile, “It’s fine. Really.” 

You link arms with her and she guides you to the Uber that Martin is standing by with the door open. As Nykki climbs in, you turn your head and find Sebastian watching. 

He almost looks hopeful that you’ll follow him. That you’ll both leave the mess of the group behind and find solitude someplace else.

But you don’t. 

Instead, you give a small shake of your head and follow Nykki, with Martin firmly closing the door behind you. 

****

In the years you’ve watched Seth play in Raleigh, you’ve never once seen a game from the suite before. 

But the Monday morning after your run-in with the group, you find yourself opening a calendar invite from your boss to the first home game of the season with a few key clients. So now, you’re perched by the glass, watching the spotlights dancing around the ice and the crowds of people getting settled in for the night. 

“You know we’re meant to be chatting up the clients, right?” 

Of course, Charlie managed to be invited too. 

“I still haven’t been able to swing by that new restaurant I was telling you about. Could be fun to check it out afterwards,” he says, looking out towards the rink. 

“Thanks, Charlie but I think I’m just going to head home the game’s done,” you respond dryly.

He cocks his head with a raised brow, “You know they organized a meet and greet after the game right? The whole reason why we’re here is because the CEO’s son is a huge fan.” 

You don’t love the way your body freezes up at the newly shared information. You appreciated that your friendship with the team hadn’t made it past Maddy and Charlie’s lips, but you weren’t confident that would stay the same after tonight. And that’s the only thing that runs through your mind through all three periods. You can barely converse with the clients as you’re half-distracted by the get-away plan that you’re attempting to draw out in your mind, and it leaves your boss shooting you looks of “get your shit together”. 

The horn sounds off as soon as the clock hits zero. It’s evident that you’re not getting out of this and the only prayer you have left is that the players who join you are the younger rookies who have little to no idea who you are. But you know the chances of that are slim to none. 

You try to push away the anxiousness by listening to a conversation between your boss, Charlie, and the client. 

“All I’m saying is that the reason Boston didn’t make it past the first round was because of how shit some of the calls were against them,” Charlie rambles, oblivious to the unimpressed faces. 

The door of the suite swings open and you find Jordan, Brady, and Sebastian filing in. They’ve all clearly come straight from the showers, still dripping droplets of water from their hair onto the floor. They make their way around the room and shake everyone’s hands, thanking them for their support. Brady is the first to spot you as he gives you a surprised look followed by a welcoming smile. But he reads the panic in your eyes and - being classically perceptive - nods in understanding. 

It doesn’t take another second to pass for Sebastian to register your appearance and amongst the earlier crowding, you’re only now able to fully take in the way he’s dressed. His compression shirt sculpts against him, with the soft lines of his muscles pressing against the fabric. Shorts barely hanging loose against his thighs. A backwards cap sported to tie it all off. It’s enough to make you want to break your silent promise. 

Your eyes can’t help but fixate on him the entire time they circulate with everyone in the room. And while Sebastian tries his damn hardest to remain polite and focus on the conversation at hand, he can’t help but flicker his eyes towards you, making sure you won’t disappear on him again. 

“Thank you so much for your time. We won’t keep you guys any longer, but best of luck with the season ahead. Bring one home for us, hey?” your boss beams. Everyone else has headed home, leaving just you and Charlie waiting for your boss to let you go. 

“Goodnight guys. I’ll see you Monday.” 

And with that, it’s just the five of you left in the suite with a few people on the Hurricanes team off to the side. 

“Well, we better get going if we want to make it to that restaurant,” Charlie says turning towards you. 

Sebastian tenses at this and you see the way Jordan and Brady shoot each other a look. 

“I said I’m going home, Charlie.” You’re shutting this down. 

“I’ll give you a lift then,” he presses. 

Before you can open your mouth to counteract, Sebastian interjects, “You’re not far off from my place, I’ll take you.” 

“Yes, please!”

You’d be embarrassed with how quick you are to jump at his offer if it weren’t for the fact that you so desperately wanted to avoid being confined in a car with Charlie. 

“Thanks bro, but we’ve got it from here.” 

“Actually, I don’t think you do, bro.” 

Charlie looks between you two. Growing annoyed at the situation, he grabs his coat and retreats out of the suit. “Whatever. See you Monday.” 

A sigh leaves your lips and you don’t realize how taut your body is until it eases under the feeling of Sebastian's hand on your shoulder. 

“You guys all good if we take off?” Brady asks, expectedly. Sebastian nods and you all bid goodnight. 

“I just have to grab my things but if you’re tired I can just come back for them tomorrow,” he offers, as Brady and Jordan make their way out. 

You shake your head, “I can hold on, you’re doing me the favour.” 

It doesn’t take long to get back to the locker room, and you can’t help but think about how good he looks when he emerges with his hockey bag hung over one shoulder and a garment bag thrown over the other. 

As you lean against the passenger door, waiting for him to throw his things into the boot, you can’t help but start to grow nervous at the realisation that Sebastian may want to talk about that night. But your nervousness is cut short by Sebastian moving in front of you with a small disc in his hand. 

A puck. 

He looks down at it, fiddling with it between his hands, “It’s from the warm-up. I thought you might like it.”

It’s the puck.  

Your mouth falls open slightly, as you gingerly take it, as if you’re afraid it’ll break if you handle it too hard. 

“I can’t believe you still do that,” you breathe, turning it over, feeling the ridges where the ice has chipped the edges. 

“Of course I do. It changes the game.” 

Your eyes dart up at his choice of words - he remembers. 

“Why did you stop seeing us?” he puts forward. 

You sigh and lean back against the car, turning your head away. 

“Was it because of that night at Jarvy’s birthday? Did you not want to…” he trails off. Even he’s not sure what that night was meant to be. 

“This world that you’re in Sebastian, I just don’t know if it’s for me.”

“I know that we’re away a lot but I-” 

“It’s not that,” you quickly cut off. He returns a confused look and you know, as his eyes search you for an answer, that you owe him this explanation. 

“Before you came back to the table, I was talking to Nykki about how difficult it can get to be involved with a hockey player.” 

“But you’re already involved with us? You were friends with Seth already” he presses.  

“And look where it got me last time. I was forced to leave a job after six months because all anyone cared about was being closer to the Canes than me,” you lamented. 

“I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m second to the person I’m with; I want to feel equal to them. I want to know who is genuinely trying to be my friend. I want to exist outside of my relationship. I don’t want to have to hide in public because I’m scared to run into people from work.” 

You close your eyes, feeling exhausted by the flood of words leaving your mouth, and you half-expect Sebastian to get into his car and drive off. 

“I didn’t know.” 

You nod in understanding. How could you expect him to know? 

“I would never put you in a position where you wouldn’t feel safe,” he says softly.

“But if that’s what you really want, we can move on from everything. But I need you to know how I feel first.” His hand wraps around the side of your jaw and pulls your gaze towards him. 

“I wanted to know you the moment Seth pointed you out our game for the first time. And then we spoke at the charity gala and I only wanted to know you even more. And then you were around us more, and I got to know you beyond just being Seth’s friend. And what I know I know is that you’re smarter than you let on but you’re still kind. You’ve remained so grounded that you see me as more than just this job. You make me think more deeply than I ever have with anyone else and I don’t want to go back to a life before I had that.” 

You don’t know whether to cry or charge forward. Because after the endless rounds of almosts and what-ifs, you’ve finally caught each other. And the confessions that pour from his mouth left you knowing one thing for certain: you had both waited long enough.

And for the second time, you bring his neck down and finally close the gap between the two of you. Sebastian presses you against the car with his hand wrapping up to rest on the back of your neck, his lips deepening against yours. You never doubted it but his arms feel secure around you, afraid to let go and let the moment be over. 

But you pull away just long enough to let out a murmur, “Take me home, Sebastian” 

****

Six gruelling months pass by and you find yourself at a potential playoff-clinching game with your colleagues. 

Granted your relationship with Sebastian was still very much under wraps, but you had learned to navigate your feelings of discomfort towards the publicity of his job. Sebastian had accommodated your cautiousness. Careful to never spend too long in your section during a pre-game warm up. Made sure to drive around the quiet side of the arena to pick you up afterwards. He had never pushed you to do more than you needed to. 

But even though he’d never tell you, you know he’s quietly envious of the way the guys can openly skate with their partner at family skates. Or how they can sit and openly touch at company events. He had afforded you comfort at the expense of his wants. You wanted him to have more than this. And more importantly, you wanted to show him that you wanted more. 

So when the buzzer sounds off and the Canes skate away with another return to the Stanely Cup Playoffs, you can’t help but let go of the discontentment you have about being found out. So before you even know it, you find yourself moving towards the ice where Sebastian is wrapping up his post-game interview, ignoring the calls of Maddy asking where you’re going. 

And when you reach the board that separates you and your boyfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to skate over, collecting a puck from the equipment manager on the way. 

“Always nice to meet a fan,” he winks, offering his pre-game puck. 

You grin, pulling him forward by his jersey, “I appreciate it but I’ve gotta tell you that I’ve got a boyfriend.” 

His eyes melt at the sound of your public announcement and he catches your lips against his, “I love you so damn much.”

[jerseyshoresy]

Shoresy and the team giving reader shit for smoking cigs, and reader shitting on them for dipping?

Reader has OCD so before every game they sit outside in full gear minus skates, having to Tapp the smoke twice on one knee and the lighter twice on the other before lighter, one of the boys sits with reader and notices when they do the tapping they win the game so slowly every member comes and sits out, Sanger too eventually after wondering where the fuck everyone is, even Laura reports on it and each team mate gives the reader a kiss on the head before heading in before the reader flicks the butt like Wayne from LK does before a scrap and that becomes part of the ritual?

I’m SO sorry this took as long as it did for me to write but I really hope you love it!! Thanks for your patience, support, and your great writing ideas!!!🫶❤️

OCD on the Ice

Slice of Life

Cast of Shoresy x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing; I used Google translate for the one sentence of French so please don’t come for me if it’s not correct😅

It was these quiet moments before the game that you absolutely relished; there was nothing better to you than sitting in full hockey gear as you mentally prepared yourself for the exhilarating time on the ice you were about to experience once again. Fiddling with the pack of smokes in your hand, you eventually took one out and lit it, hoping to ease your mind of its racing thoughts. You tapped the cigarette twice on one knee, repeating the same motion with the lighter on the other, as you always did before a game. That was just part of your ritual—you didn’t question why your OCD demanded it since it was one of your easier compulsions to control and you’d like to keep it that way. Finally lighting the smoke, you took a long drag as your worries melted away with the help of the product between your fingers.

“You fuckin’ smokin’ out here like some bum?”

“Fuck off, Shoresy,” you replied as your captain took a seat on the steps next to you. He reached into his pocket and procured his trusty dip, sticking some more in his already full mouth.

You screwed up your nose in disgust. “That stuff is so nasty.”

“Huh? I couldn’t hear ya through the cloud of smoke you’re blowing, Willie Nelson.”

“Fuck off,” you mumbled again, finishing your cigarette and leaving it in the communal ashtray.

“We ‘avin a get together out here, b’ys?” asked Hitch who was now busy spitting into his dip cup. He looked down and opened his eyes in surprise. “Oh, y/n, didn’t see ya there through the haze! Y’ like a chimney during a Newfie winter!”

You shot him a dirty look while tapping the cigarette twice on your knee, doing the same with the lighter on the other, just as before.

“Dipping’s easier,” Shoresy said, taking note of your actions.

“And convenient,” Goody chimed in on his arrival. He nodded in your direction. “You do that before every game.”

“Hm? Oh, not every game,” you replied sheepishly as more of your teammates poured out of the door to come outside for a tobacco break, “just the ones we win.”

“Ce sont les seuls jeux qui comptent,” Dolo added, the boys all nodding in agreement.

(“Those are the only games that count.”)

The entirety of your team was now outside with you, shooting the breeze while waiting to start shooting the puck.

“You’re such a sight for sore eyes,” gushed Shoresy when Laura made an appearance, having stopped to say hello to the team before heading inside to work.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re such a sap.” The reporter then gestured toward your hands that you were again tapping, this time subconsciously. “Pregame ritual?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Seen plenty of players’ over the years,” she explained. “They’re all different yet they all strangely seem to work.”

You were deep in conversation with Laura when your impromptu hangout session was suddenly interrupted.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

Your lighter flew out of your hand in surprise and landed softly in a pile of snow that had accumulated by your side.

“Jus’ a team buildin’ exercise with tha b’ys, Coach,” explained Hitch with a fairly toothless smile.

“I’m giving us good press,” you quickly added, jabbing your thumb in Laura’s direction while the blonde gave a little wave to Sanguinet. He took in a deep breath, clearly annoyed, but also relieved to have found his players who’d mysteriously disappeared from the locker room.

“Get your asses inside,” he said, eyeing you and your teammates. “You have a game to win.”

“Good luck in there,” Laura called out to you, entering the barn’s front doors.

“You can go ahead and finish your ritual. We need you at your best tonight,” Shoresy told you. He leaned over and gave your forehead a quick kiss before going back inside to get his skates on.

“Tha’s a nice new ritual we should partake in,” said Hitch. Your brow furrowed in confusion, not knowing what he meant, but your question was answered when you felt his lips on your forehead as well. Wordlessly, one by one, the Sudbury Blueberry Bulldogs kissed your forehead prior to walking back to the locker room. You didn’t know why they did it, but you sure as hell weren’t mad about it. Their sign of affection ignited another burst inside you of energy and enthusiasm for the game—not just tonight, but for the rest of the season.

With one last run through of tapping your lighter and pack of cigarettes against your knees, you stood up, taking a final inhale of the cig in your mouth. Ready to take on whatever the other team was going to throw at you, you flicked the cigarette butt away from you and stood stoically for a moment instead of immediately rushing inside, leading you to feel even more emboldened.

I’m definitely doing this before every game.

[bbrissonn]

𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

in which your relationship with quinn was never what you though it was, secrets being keep, one of those being you

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, this does NOT reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn't how i imagine them acting

warnings: angst, swearing, asshole quinn, not proofread

pairing: quinn hughes x gn!reader (im pretty sure)

wc: 4.5k (including lyrics)

a/n: the ending is kinda shit because i really wanted to post this before the rest of the album came out sooo yeah

GUTS series

Hate to give the satisfaction asking how you’re doing now

How’s the castle built off people you pretend to care about?

Just what you wanted

Look at you, cool guy, you got it

I see the parties and diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes

Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise

I love you truly

You gotta laugh at the stupidity

If someone would’ve asked you how to describe yourself a year ago, the words confident, independent and strong would’ve been some you used, but using them now if someone would ask you the same question wouldn't be right. You were no longer that person, the one who always had a smile on her face, one who was always kind and considerate of other’s in the room. No, that you was dead, and it was all his fault. 

When you had met Quinn almost a year ago now, he was the sweetest boy you had ever meet, his personality almost the same as yours. So it was no surprise to you that the two of you ended up hanging out as friends multiple before eventually asked you out on a date. You hesitated at first, scared to ruin your friendship, but the hockey boy was everything you dreamed of in a man, and you knew denying him would be a mistake, so you agreed. 

The two of you then started dating in January, and everything between the two of you was amazing. Sure, you guys didn’t see each other as often as you’d like, with him having practices in the morning and you working until late at night, mainly around the time his games would start. But you made it work, you saw each other at least twice a week, and when time wasn’t in your favour, facetimes were your go-to night time activities. 

But all that changed when summer started approaching, Quinn had let you know months in advance that he’s be heading home for pretty much the whole summer, excited to spend time with his family. Of course, he invited you, but you had the decline the offer, your job would never allow you to take the whole summer off. Thankfully though, you were able to switch your two weeks vacation you had taken in September, and move them to the begin of July.

When you informed your boyfriend you’d be able to join in a month after he left, a weird look creeped up on his face, making your brows furr. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, your head looking away from the TV and over to him. 

“Nothing. It’s just… we’re already a full house. You said you couldn’t come so Jack invited another friend. There’s no more bedroom.” 

“Oh, well, I though we’d just share, you know, I mean we already do.” You explained confused, it seemed pretty obvious to you that you’d be sleeping in the same bed. He was your boyfriend after all, why wouldn’t you sleep in the same bed?

“Right.” His answer was short and quick before his attention was back on the TV. “You’d have to meet my parents, and all my brothers and their friends. It’s a lot of people.” He said, almost as if he was trying to discourage you to go. You shrugged it off, thinking nothing too much of it. Quinn was a shy person, you told yourself he was probably just nervous for his two lives to meet together. 

“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. You didn’t worry much about meeting his brothers and their friends, especially considering the fact that you were the same age as Jack and his friends. You hoped that being the same age as them would make the whole meeting easier, something you had mentioned to your boyfriend everytime he’d talk about you having to meet his brothers, but each time, your statement never seemed to make him change his mind, always acting weird whenever you’d bring it up. 

When the older boy didn’t answer you, you grew anxious. Did he not want you to meet them? Was he too ashamed to bring you home with him? Doubt and self conscious thoughts being to fill your head and you couldn’t help but ask him about it. 

“Do you not want me to come?” You questioned him, your voice shaky and low as your eyes focused on your lap, while his shifted over to your figure. As seconds ticked by, regret overcame you, maybe you should’ve just dropped the subject instead of asking questions. 

“Of course I want you to come.” He lied, he couldn’t tell you the truth, you’d leave him if he did, and that was the last thing he needed. Well, it wasn’t a full lie, Quinn wanted you there, but not as his girlfriend, only had his friend. 

“Then why do you act so weirdly every time we talk about me meeting your family?” You pushed, you were desprated for an answer, you needed to know. 

“‘M not.” 

“But you are, Quinn! You always try and find reasons for me not to meet them. Are you ashamed of me?” You continued. The boy could feel the anger rising in him, he hadn’t signed up for this. An argument was not what he wanted when he walked into your apartment earlier that night, no he expected a silent movie night and sex, that’s the only reason he had even agreed to come over in the first place. 

“God, Y/N, you’re so delusion.” Quinn groaned, pushing himself off the couch, walking towards the front door of the apartment. You were quick on his trail, walking only feets behind him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Home.” He mumbled, slipping his shoes on, only to find you standing in front of your door with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“No.” 

“Y/N, move.” 

“No. Answer my question, Quinn.” You told him, your voice stern. The boy only rolled his eyes before gently pushing you the side and leaving you all alone in your apartment. This was not how either of you planned this night to go. 

Looking back at it now, that night was the first sign that things were going sour in your newly formed relationship. You knew it at the time, but you refused to acknowledge it, your feelings for the boy overshadowing the red flags being waved in front of you. 

The second sign was not even a week later, the Canucks winning a big game in overtime, and obviously they all wanted to go celebrate with each other and their significant others. Of course, that meant you were invited, you always were. So to say you were confused when Quinn didn’t open the driver door of your car like he always did when you arrived at the bar was an understatement. 

“Get back in the car, Y/N.” He told you as he walked towards the entrance of the bar, only to stop when you yelled out his name. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

“Go home, I’ll find a ride home.” He said hrashly before walking in and joining his teammates at a booth, while you stayed in the freezing cold outside for a solid five minutes, confused as to what had just happened. 

The two of you hadn’t exactly cleared the air after your little argument at your place the previous week, so you just convinced yourself that he was probably still a little angry and just wanted a night alone. But deep down you knew that wasn’t the case, he had called you the next morning acting like nothing happened, and he had been acting that way ever since. 

You should’ve called it quits after that night, go back to his place and pack all your things before going home and packing all of his. But you didn’t, instead you waited until the next morning when he’d called you and act like it didn’t happen, that became his go-to thing after that, acting like you two had no problems. 

The third sign hit you like a truck. The season had ended a little while ago, the Canucks missing the playoffs, meaning Quinn was going to head home soon. He didn’t tell you when, you guess he’d probably stay a month, enjoy some time together before he left for the month and you’d join him in July. 

Only when it was almost one in the afternoon and you still hadn’t heard anything from him, you started getting worried. You went to his place after work, only to find his apartment empty, barely anything left in it. You called him, five times, three voicemails, not answer. Part of you started freaking out a little, deciding to call Pettey to see if he knew anything. You wished more than anything you hadn’t. 

The foreward informed you that the boy had left for New Jersey early in the morning, confused as to why you had asked him. You didn’t answer him, instead hanging up and trying to call Quinn once again, only to be met with the sound of his voicemail. 

It wasn’t until the next morning that your boyfriend answered you, telling you he was staying with his brothers to cheer them on during their playoff run and that he’d be heading to Michigan right after. You had never cried over a boy so much before, having to call in sick to work because of how unwell you felt. He left, no warning, no note, nothing, he just left. Little did you know, the next time you’d see him would end up becoming the worst day of your life. 

‘Cause I’ve made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should’ve known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

As you sunk your teeth into me, oh

Bloodsucker, fame fucker

Bleedin’ me dry like a goddamn vampire

A wide smile was plastered on your face as your taxi pulled up in the driveway of Quinn and Jack’s shared summer house, the July sun hitting your skin as you stepped out. After getting all your bags out of the car and paying the driver, you made your way to the front door, choosing to knock on it instead of just barging in. 

The door opened a couple of seconds later, the loud noise of music playing through the house as boy who looked your age opened the door, a confused look on his face. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Is Quinn here?” Your question made a slight chuckle come from the boy, making you a little confused. An awkward smile formed on your face as you realized maybe you had the wrong house. 

“You’re not his type, sweetheart.” The boy chuckle as he leaned against the door frame, making your brows furr. Not his type? What was this guy talking about. 

“Not his type?” 

“Yeah, he’s usually more of a skinny blond guy, at least the one last night was.” The boy explained, making your heart drop. 

“Last night?” You mumbled, hoping that he wasn’t talking about Quinn sleeping with someone else, someone who wasn’t you, who didn’t even look like you. 

“Look, I don’t how you get this address and all, but please leave.” He said before trying to close the door, only you pushed it, keeping it open. 

“I am his girlfriend.” You told him, holding up your phone in his face. Your lock screen being a photo of the two of you in bed, the side of his face pressed against yours as wide smile were present on both your faces. The smirk that was once on the boy’s face dropped, before looking back into the house. 

“I’ll got get him.” He mumbled before closing the door. A minute later, the door opened again, Quinn standing in front of you as a couple of guys were standing behind him, all of them looking at you. Just as the boy from before was about to say something, Quinn stepped outside, slamming the door behind him. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his tone harsh and mean as tears started to form in your eyes. 

“Did you sleep with another girl last night?” You asked him, your voice small and shaky as your eyes stared into his. 

“Go home, Y/N.” 

“Did you?” You asked again, your voice a little louder this time, frustration building up in you as he avoided your question. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” He said, his tone the same as before. 

“You invited me here, Quinn, you said you wanted me to be here!” 

“Well, I don’t anymore! I don’t want you here, Y/N, so go the fuck home!” He yelled, making your jaw drop slightly at his words. 

“You don’t want me here?” You asked after almost a minute of silence, your voice back to being small and shaky. Meanwhile, Quinn was staring at you with anger, rage almost. 

“Yeah. I don’t why in you’re right mind you’d still show up here when I’ve haven’t mentioned you coming here at all in a long fucking time.” He responded, his words slowly cutting your heart in half. He didn’t want you here, he didn’t want you. 

“Oh.” Was all you could say, you’re eyes now staring at the ground beneath you as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. 

“Go home, and leave me the fuck alone, Y//N.” He finished, his tone not changing. Before you even had time to say anything he had disappeared back inside the house, leaving you all alone again. 

You were sat on the steps of the front proch, waiting for a taxi to come pick you and bring you back to the airport. Where were you gonna go? You had no clue. All you knew was that you had the next two weeks off and you weren’t about to spend them in Vancouver. 

Suddenly, the boy who opened the door was sitting next to you, a small awkward smile on his face as you wiped as many tears away as you could. 

“I’m Alex.” The boy said softly, making you look over at him, trying your hardest to smile at him. 

“Y/N.” 

“‘M sorry, about before, what I said.” 

“You got nothing to be sorry about. But, the blond girl you were talking about…” You trailed off, the though of saying the words out loud making you go quiet. 

“He slept with her. She wasn’t the only one this summer.” He told you, making your heart break a little more the more he talked. In all honesty, you didn’t even know who the boy next to you was, Quinn had never mentioned an Alex, but then again you knew they probably had a weird nickname for him like they do for everyone else. The only thing you knew was that he was Jack’s friend, knowing none of Quinn’s friend were here yet. Yet this stranger you’ve known for a couple of minutes has been more open and honest about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend you weren’t sure at this point, had been during your whole relationship. 

“Save me the pain of knowing how many, would you?” You asked, more tears falling from your eyes. But they weren’t falling because of Quinn, no, tears were rolling down your cheeks because of yourself. How stupid you felt for no noticing how weird he had been acting, well more for just ignoring it, how you should’ve ran away from the moment he was avoiding the subject of you meeting his family and friends. You should’ve ran the moment a girl requested to dm you, warning you about Quinn’s playboy past when she saw the two of you at a bar. You should’ve ran and never look back multiple times, but you never did, your love for the boy too strong for your head to do what was right. You let your heart and emotions control your life, and it’s came back to bit you in the ass. 

“So, I am guessing you don’t wanna know that he never told us he had a girlfriend?” He knew he shouldn’t, your heart was already broken enough, but he needed too. You had travelled all the way from Vancouver for Quinn, only for your relationship to fall apart because of him. He needed you to know the truth. 

“Should I even be surprised at this point? He’s always avoided talking about me meeting any of you.” You scoffed, at the same moment, a taxi pulled up into the driveway. Thankfully, it wasn’t the same one as before, saving you the embarrassment of leaving the taxi the happiness women on earth, only to go back in the most heartbroken one. Alex helped you load your bag in the trunk of the car, silence sitting over the two of you. 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over that idiot.” 

“I will.”

And every girl I ever talked to told me you were bad, bad news

You called them crazy, God, I hate the way I called ‘em crazy too

You’re so convincing

How do you lie without flinching?

(How do you lie? How do you lie? How do you lie?)

Oh, what mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked up little thrill

Can’t figure out just how you do it and God knows I never will

Went for me and not her

‘Cause girls your age know better

You had decided to spend your two weeks off of work visiting your best friend in Calgary, being with her seemed like the only way Quinn wouldn’t be on your mind 24/7, and you were right. During your time there, you barely thought of the boy, your best friend being a light in your dark world, making you forget all your issues. 

Of course, that all changed the second your plane landed in Vancouver, all your memories of coming here to see Quinn after a road trip coming back to you. And it only got worst once you got to your apartment, one of Quinn’s hoodie before thing you saw when you walked in, tears immediately forming in your eyes. You couldn’t, you had already cried way too many tears over him during your relationship, you couldn’t let yourself cry some more now that he was gone. 

He made clear the state of your relationship when he sent you a simple two word text. We’re done. That was it. No sorries, or any signs that he felt bad, just we’re done. Luckily, you were already in Calgary when he texted you, meaning your best friend was there to make you feel better. But she wasn’t when he came by unannounced to pick up his things. 

It had been two months since your relationship ended, and you were doing horribly. Everything reminded you of him, and of how stupid you were for sticking around, every where you went, he was there, not physically, but in your memories. You had just came back from work when he arrived, knocking loudly on your door scaring you a little. 

When you opened the door, he just walked in, didn’t even look at you or say hi, instead heading straight for your room. He looked the same that he did in July, only his hair was a little longer now. When you joined him in your bedroom, half of his bag was already full, your drawers all opened with your clothes everywhere. 

“Are you at least gonna clean up the mess you’re making in my room?” You asked him, your voice full of anger. There was no way you were gonna let him barge in here with no warnings, then make a mess in your room, not say a single word to you, and then just leave, and if he thought so, he was dead wrong. 

“I am talking to you, Quintin!” You said louder this time, walking towards him and grabbing his bag just as he was about to put some sweatpants in it. His head flew up, giving you a death glare before finally speaking to you. 

“Give it.” 

“No.” 

“Y/N, give me my fucking bag.” He mumbled harshly, reaching out for it only for you to step back. You had the upper hand now, or at least you thought so. 

“You want your bag back? Then clean the fucking mess you made in my room, in which you came in without asking permission.” You said firmly, only making the boy scoff, his glare still present. 

“You’re fucking crazy.” 

“I could call the cops on you right now.” 

“Really? You’d call the cops on me?” 

“Yeah. Clean up, or it’s the cops you’re gonna have the deal with.” 

“You’re seriously fucking insane, Y/N.” Quinn mumbled before ripping his half packed bag out of your hands and storming out of your apartment, leaving you all alone again. Tears of anger started rolling down your face, part of you wanting to chase after him and yell, while the other wanted to just scream into your pillow and cry. You decided on neither, taking in the fact that half his belongings were still in your room. 

The next day, you quickly go into action, cleaning the mess Quinn had made the previous night, all while putting his things aside. When you were done, a pill of clothes was splattered on the floor just outside your room, and you soon joined it with a pair of scissors in your hands. One by one, you started destroying his clothes, letting out all your anger and rage on the pieces of clothing. 

He deserved it, after everything he had put you through in the last year or so, he deserved it, all of it. You showed no mercy, going crazy on the clothes you wore more often than the others, or the ones you knew held a special place in his heart, like his NTDP and Michigan hoodies. 

Next were all the gifts he had given you. It pained you, chopping off the heads of so many adorable teddy bears, but it needed to be done. Those gift were given in a way of saying ‘I love you’ but it didn’t mean anything to him. You didn’t mean anything to him. Everything single thing he had given you was destroyed, but the one that hurt the most was the ring he had gotten you for your birthday, both your initials engraved on the inside of it. Scissors weren’t enough for this, so you made your way to your kitchen, grabbing one of your big knife, doing anything and everything to bend the ring to the point where he couldn’t return it. 

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you placed the ring at the top of the box, above all the other gifts and his clothes, making sure it’d be the first he saw. It felt weird, like you were truly saying goodbye to your relationship. It was the end, after today you’d never see him again. Your boss telling you you could transfer to the compagnies office in Calgary as soon as next week, something your best friend was over the moon about. You’d never have to face the boy who completely broke and changed you, you’d never have to be in the same city as him. 

You didn’t even bother knocking on his door when you dropped off his things, instead just walking in, knowing he barely ever kept his door locked. He was sitting on his couch, a random TV show on the playing when you walked in. You heard him curse under his breath, but you didn’t pay any attention to him, instead dropping the box in the middle of his apartment. 

“I hope you rot in hell, Quintin.” You said harshly before turning around and making your way back out his home. 

“You’re a psycho you know that.” He called out, making you stop right before his door. You turned around, only to see he wasn’t on his couch anymore, now standing about five feet away from you. 

“Yeah? Then what does that make you? I hope one day you’ll feel that you’ve made me feel. That your self esteem is so low that you don’t ever want to leave your apartment. Karma’s a bitch.” You told him before opening his door and walking out. Part of you hope he’d follow you, tell you it was all a big mistake and that he still loved you, that way you’d be able to crush him, making him feel what he made you feel. But you weren’t okay with the fact that he didn’t knowing karma would eventually come back to him. 

And it did.

You said it was true love, but wouldn’t that be hard?

You can’t love anyone ‘cause that you would mean you had a heart

I tried to help you out, now I know that I can’t

‘Cause how you think’s the kind of thing I’ll never understand

A year later, you were sitting in the living room of your shared apartment with your best friend, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when an article caught your eye. Karma had done it’s thing. Barely a month after you left Vancouver, Quinn had found himself a model girlfriend, she was the complete opposite of you, but you didn’t spend any time analyzing everything difference between the two of you like you would’ve done when you first broke up. No, now you just wished nothing more than for her to break his heart. 

And she did. Barely a year into their relationship she cheated on him, publicly, meaning everyone knew about it. Quinn had grown a little famous because of his relationship, meaning almost every city he went in, people would stare at him, teenagers would giggle at him, while adults gave him looks of pity. 

You had ran into Alex during the last season, when the Kings were in town to play against Calgary, and a friendship was born. The two of you talked quite a lot, almost every single day, getting to know each other pretty quickly. The boy soon became like an older brother to you, and you became a little sister to him. 

This new friendship of yours meant if you ever wanted to, you could get updates of Quinn. Hearing that the defenseman was heartbroken over his girlfriend cheating on him brough you the most amount of join you had ever felt in the last two years. You slept amazingly that night, knowing Quinn was in his bed, his heart aching, just like yours was last summer. 

She had done to him, what he had done to you. Only, his was way worst because of the whole affair being public. To you, it felt like you had won. For months, it was him who wasn’t hurting, but now the table had turns. While you slept peacefully each night, Quinn struggled to find sleep, his mind asking himself so many questions. Did she even love him? How many other guys were there? 

One night, your words replayed in his head. Karma was a bitch.

[baocean]

enchanted - trevor zegras

summary: your friends dragged you to an nhl game, even though you had no interest in any of it. something caught your interest, quick, a brunette hockey player who kept glancing into the crowd.

warnings: smut, extremely long fic, that’s it 😛

authors note: my first nhl fic omg! i hope you guys liked it, im looking to write more! pls drop ur opinion below!!!!! let me know if you want to be added to my taglist ⭐️ enjoy, muah

“i really have homework i need to do.” you frowned at your friends, they laughed as they brushed you off.

your roommates were pulling you out of the apartment tonight for an anaheim game, despite your many protests.

anika’s dad was the equipment manager, and had gotten front row seats to the game tonight for her and her roommates.

it was saturday night, which meant you didn’t have classes tomorrow, but still had things to do. homework due.

you were grateful for anika’s dad for thinking of you, but you really did have bio homework to worry about.

that didn’t matter, because an hour later you were sat in the arena, the glass only five feet in front of you.

anika to your left, isla and charlotte to your right. you had already grabbed a diet coke, getting comfortable in your seat.

the crowd cheered as the home team skated out onto the ice for warmups. you clapped a few times, anika bumping you in the shoulder.

you watched as the players skated around the ice, gracefully passing a puck between them. some were stretching, some were quietly talking to each other in the corner.

one, in particular, was making laps around his side of the ice. your eyes caught onto him, following along so easily.

his dark hair trickled out the back of his helmet, his chain falling just above his jersey.

he circled back around towards where you and your friends were sitting, so confident he couldn’t see you.

and when his eyes flicked to you for the first time, your heart dropped.

he kept them on you, skating past you. his head turned, in effort to keep staring.

after antagonizing seconds of his stares, he finally turned back towards the ice, flicking a puck in front of him.

“holy shit, bee. i saw that.” isla turned towards you, her face filled with shock.

you wanted to laugh at the nickname she used. your friends picked it up when they first saw the picture of you at four years old dressed as a bumble bee. they’d been calling you ‘bee’ ever since.

you smiled and shook your head, hiding the blush on your face.

“i don’t know what you mean. he was not looking at me.” you looked back at the ice, and sure enough, there he was, looking right at you.

he turned to talk to another player, and you finally got to read his jersey, zegras.

“you’re full of shit.” isla laughed, tapping your leg. you laughed along, leaning into her.

slowly, the players started trickling off the ice, until zegras and one other player were the only ones left.

he did a few more laps, shooting some pucks.

when he passed you, his stick flew up to hit the glass, making you jump.

he turned to look at you, sizing your reaction, giving you a smile when he saw you laugh. then, he disappeared into the tunnel.

“oh my god. trevor zegras totally likes you.” anika grabbed your shoulders.

“trevor.” you let his name rattle around in your head, taste it on your tongue. “are you crazy? he doesn’t even know me.”

“don’t care, he’s in love.” anika shrugged you off, definite on her opinion.

the first period started, the ducks starting out strong. anytime trevor was on the ice, it was like you were in a trance. it didn’t help that he was so good at hockey.

the game flew by much faster than expected, all with trevor’s help.

it was over before you realized. the ducks coming out to the middle of the ice to celebrate.

they tapped their sticks, trevor’s eyes involuntarily falling to you.

as the players filled off the ice for one last time that night, you watched as trevor lifted his hand to wave, just enough for you.

you returned it, wiggling your fingers as you smiled at him. he dipped his head, and disappeared.

sunday morning came much quicker than you would have liked.

the early morning drive across two towns to get to your childhood home was something you would never look forward to.

but, your brother had his first day of hockey camp. both your parents worked. so, you were the only option to pick him up and drop him off at the rink by your house.

he was sitting outside your house when you pulled up. he hauled his gear and sticks into the back of your car, sliding into the front seat.

“morning.” you smiled at miles. he smiled back at you, but didn’t say much the entire drive.

when you got to the rink, you both headed inside. miles left towards the locker room, you headed towards the table where you could sign your little brother in.

the lady at the front table was nice and welcoming, offering a pamphlet to you.

you were looking down at her, watching her as she explained the events that will happen over the next few weeks, each saturday and sunday.

she was cut off by a “carla, do you have a roster sheet for me?”

you looked up, barely registering who had walked over before a swear word fell from his lips.

trevor stood in front of you, skates on and hands gloved, looking utterly stunned.

your face probably had the same look. you blinked, maybe you were dreaming. the cute nhl player was not standing in front of you right now, at your brothers hockey camp, no way.

still, he pulled his glove off, stuffing it in his armpit, reached out to shake your hand. “i’m trevor. nice to…meet you?”

the last bit came as a question, you laughed, told him your name.

his lips tipped up in a smile, secretly soaking in your name, how it sounded.

you let go of his hand, but stayed where you were to memorize him. his hair flipped out under his beanie, his smile lines, the roughness of his hands and how soft his face looked.

"well, i gotta go, y'know. you got a kid playing or something?" he looked almost worried to ask the question.

"brother."

"okay, have fun watching, see you after?" trevor's voice was filled with hope, searching for the same feeling he had in you.

"yea, see you after." you nodded, watching as he walked away towards the rink entrance, knowing he would look back. he did, just before the door closed.

he was euphoric on the ice, so graceful and balanced while doing something, anything. he looked up from where you were in the stands a few times, never waving, just confirming you were still there.

he caught up to you in the lobby almost immediately after the two hour skate was done. his cheeks were red, and he was a little bit sweaty, but looked just as pretty as ever.

"what'd you think about it?" he asked you. though you didn't have much to say, trevor listened like it was the most important thing he was hearing.

you were about to compliment him, take a leap of faith, when- "bee, can we get food on the way home?"

you turned to see you brother glance between you and his new coach. trevor's face scrunched up, "bee?"

you sighed, "it's a nickname. sure, miles, let's get going," you turned back to trevor, "it was nice meeting you."

"you too. you'll be here next week?" he asked, taking a step towards you, like he wasn't ready to let you go yet.

"sure." you gave him one last, sweet smile as you walked out with your brother, ignoring miles' glances.

the next weekend, you were there again, dressed a little bit better, makeup and hair done with slightly more effort.

trevor was waiting by the booth, where carla was sitting, offering you a familiar smile.

once again, miles peeled off towards the locker rooms, trevor meeting you in the middle of the room.

"you look good." he offered, drinking you in like you've known each other for years.

"thanks, trevor." you cocked your head to the side, the shorter pieces of your hair falling in your face.

"was thinking maybe i could get your phone number? invite you and your friends to another one of my games?" calm as ever, trevor grabbed his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you.

you didn't say anything, just put your number in and send a simple text to yourself. handing his phone back to trevor, he smiled and typed on the keyboard.

flashing his phone at you, you took in the 'bee' contact name, rolling your eyes within seconds.

"not you too." you groaned, pushing your head into your hands. trevor memorized the light pink color of your nails, the rings on your fingers.

"me too, baby. gotta go, i'll text you." he gave you a tooth rotting smile, rushing off into the locker room.

he hadn't given the nickname a second thought, calling you like he had been his entire life.

watching him skate would never get old. maybe it was how fast he could skate, how visibly strong he was, how when he was focused on a play, his tongue would poke out. the movements of his body and how he'd chew on his gloves when he was off in his own space.

whatever it was, you wanted more of it, alone. you shifted in your seat, watching the clock count down, unbearably slow.

when the zamboni started onto the ice as players shuffled off, you made your way to the lobby, like always.

it was easy for him to spot you out in the crowd of parents and grandparents, having your features engraved into his mind since the night he met you.

a simple conversation, some adventurous glances and hopeful smiles, before your brother came out of the locker room, looking at you like he'd caught you in the act, a tradition.

that night, he'd texted you, you were back in your apartment. sitting on the couch, your computer you were working on dinging. 'unfortunately i cannot stop thinking about you', followed by a 'well, not unfortunate', then 'i may need to see you sooner than thursday night'.

you sat there, almost stunned. he had so casually thrown around words so genuine like that.

'what did you have in mind?' you replied, going back to your work, only to be pulled away a second later.

'i might go to a concert with my friends tomorrow, i can grab you a ticket. you like 21 savage?'

tomorrow you had a major test due, you still said yes, anyway. abandoning your laptop, you rushed to your anika's room, searching for an outfit.

"i can't believe you're going out with trevor zegras. im in shock, i think." anika laid on her bed, an hour later, after successfully picking an outfit that she said 'would have trevor falling to his knees'.

"were not going out, im just going to a concert with him and his friends." you shrugged her off, admiring yourself in the mirror.

"oh my god, bee. what did he say? he couldn't stop thinking about you?" anika sat up, her blonde hair falling around your shoulders. you couldn't help but giggle, shrugging your shoulders.

"that's what i thought. you need to tell me everything tomorrow. im talking second by second, play by play, i need to know."

he had picked you up an hour before the concert started. it was the first time you'd seen him with short sleeves on, your breath staggered when you caught sight of his arm, covered in a sleeve of tattoos. you were fully, completely entranced with trevor, in the worst way possible.

the car ride was filled with trevor and you bickering about songs, his horrible singing, and him sneaking mesmerized glances when you weren't looking.

he and his friends had booked a private room to the left of the stage, fixed with an array of food and a private waitress for drinks.

"bee, this is cole, jack, quinn, and jamie. guys, this is bee." trevor pointed to each boy. you went to correct him, but lacked on reasons to. you liked the way it sounded coming out of trevor's mouth, the way he said it with so much bliss.

it was much later into the night, the music blaring through the arena as trevor's friends stood off on the other side of the balcony connected to the room, singing away.

trevor mouthed some lyrics every once in a while, you knew because you couldn't help but sneak flashes at him, he looked so good in the light.

he leaned forward to take a drink of his beer, and when he leaned back, his hand slid onto your knee.

your poor heart couldn't help but swoon, everything he did, he acted so comfortably, so homely around you. everything he does to you, he acts like its been done a million times. that doesn't stop him from asking, "is that okay?"

you nodded, snaking your hand up and around his neck, your fingers twisting and curling around his hair on the back of his neck.

it was so innocent, so high school, and yet, your mind raced. the thoughts of what could come, from a hand on a knee and fingers in hair, you wanted to laugh at yourself. you were sure the beer from trevor's cup you kept sneaking was not helping.

you'd been like this for what seemed like hours. hands on shoulders, knees, thighs, hips, but nothing more. the simple act of showing the other they were feeling the same way.

the concert was ending, the stream of people below you filing up the stairs towards the exit. you, a little tipsy, and trevor, completely captivated by you and how soft your skin was, followed his friends out the room and into the hallway.

trevor grabbed onto your hand when it got crowded, not needing to look back, he was so aware of you.

it was a long walk to get back to trevor's car, losing his friends along the way, waving goodbye to them, never letting go of trevor's hand.

"you look magical right now." trevor said, his car was in sight, you were so close.

"what?" you laughed, skipping along with him. you had so much energy right now, you were pretty sure you could run a marathon.

"i'm not sure, i just look at you and thats the word i think of." he laughed along with you, the sound of it ringing through your ribcage.

without a second thought, you pulled him towards you, his body swinging around to face you. grabbing onto his arm with one hand, and wrapping another around the back of his neck, you pulled him down to kiss him.

his arms wrapped around your waist, so easily, and leaned into you. he kissed so sweetly, yet so desperately, like he was begging for more.

he gave you three pecks, the last one, his teeth pulling your bottom lip out, letting it pop back against your teeth.

your stomach dropped, not from fear, or anger, from the overwhelming sense that you would let trevor do whatever he wanted, whenever.

"let me get you home, bee." he whispered, pulling you towards his car, opening the door and helping you in.

you spent the car right home, his hand on your leg, your head on his shoulder, as he told you stories about his career over the years.

when he dropped you off, you kissed him once on the lips, he kissed you once on the cheek, said 'goodnight bee', then left you at the entrance of your apartments, enchanted.

your apartment was filled with music and laughter from the four girls living in it. clothes thrown on floors, makeup and hair tools spread across bathroom counters, a bottle of titos and an emptied orange juice bottle abandoned in the kitchen.

isla was deciding on a orange or black jacket, you pointed to the black one, she put on the orange. charlotte was finishing curling her hair, anika and you were sitting on the couch, checking when the uber would arrive.

like he said, trevor had given you four tickets to his home game against the leafs tonight. he wasn't able to text you much these past few hours, but he'd told you he was excited to see you and he'd arrange you guys get down to the locker room after the game.

once your friends were ready and stable, you were in the uber towards the stadium, singing along to the lyrics, taking pictures with isla's digital camera.

the seats were still front row, but not near the tunnel like they were last time. this time, they were right next to the duck's penalty box.

warmups started, the players rushing out of the tunnel. you, obviously, blown away when trevor stepped out onto the ice, immediately clocking where you were sitting, smirking.

like he had done the first time you had met, when he passed, his stick flew up to hit the glass in front of you, scaring you once again. you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help laugh with your friends.

the game was going well, the ducks up one goal with ten minutes left in the third period.

you watched as trevor tussled with another player in the corner, lifting his elbow up, connecting it with the guys jaw, knocking him back.

the whistle blew, and suddenly, trevor was sitting next to you, only a piece of glass separating you two.

you looked at him, knowing he probably wouldn't look back, scared cameras could catch him, people would catch on.

instead, he turned his head towards you, smiling. "hi, baby." he mouthed, tapping the bud of his stick on the glass before turning back, grabbing a water bottle and squirting from it.

you were so intensely infatuated with him, everything he did. the way he wasn't afraid to address you in from of tens of thousands of people, the way his jaw moved as he squirted water into his mouth, the way he squirted water into his mouth.

you weren't able to see him directly after the game, you only received a text, 'go down the hallway under the stairs in entrance a, tell the guy ur name, ur on the list'. bidding your friends goodbyes with hugs and making sure they made it to their uber, you ventured down the hallway.

once you made it past the man, who's name was brian, you found yourself in a parking garage. you spotted trevor leaning against his car, wearing a navy suit, his hair wet from a shower.

you walked towards him, trevor looking up from his phone, a smile lighting his features. "hey, bee. d'ya like the game?"

you nodded, fingers gripping his jaw as you pulled him into a hard kiss. not caring if anyone saw you two, his hand grabbed your neck and hip.

pulling back, you took a struggled breath, so overwhelmed with bliss. "now."

"now?" trevor breathed, the same level of love drunk. he nodded with you, opening the back door for you, following you inside.

he laid on top of you, kissing you with twice as much neediness. hands going everywhere, under your shirt, up your leg, through your hair, lacing with your hand.

unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it from his pants, and tossing it on the floorboards, you sighed. he was an angel, truly.

his hands played with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, throwing it on the ground, letting it introduce itself to his.

his hands, much larger than yours, pulled any other fabric, pants and bras and underwear, out of the way, lightly nipping at your nipples, sending shocks through you.

"you are absolutely, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl ive ever seen." trevor whispered. you weren't sure if you were meant to hear it, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

trevor angled himself down in-between your legs, pushing one finger into you, drawing an anticipated moan out of you.

his left hand sprawled out against your stomach as his right hand worked you, whispering affections.

"you're so pretty. like a dream." he hummed words so dear, so easily. it had you squirming from above him.

his thumb came up to rub your clit, you arching your back in response. "can't take it, can't take it, trev."

"you can, baby, you got it. go 'head, bee." his words drove you over the edge, the feeling crashing over you, flattening you.

not for long, because trevor had flipped you, your legs wrapped around his now, chests aligned.

"can i?" he asked, his hands on your hips, ready. you nodded, watching his eyes drop towards where his hand was meeting the two of you.

as he slid into you, he threw his head back, groaning. you mimicked his actions, hands grabbing onto his hard shoulders.

the car was warm, the windows fogged, filled with the sounds of each others breathy moans and his kisses on your neck and cheek.

you started bobbing up and down, draws moans and huffs from the boy under you each time.

his hands stayed on his hips, guiding you, while he let you roam your hands on his chest and shoulders and neck and hair, anywhere you pleased.

"you feel so good. made for me, huh, bee?" trevor gasped out, his head falling back once more.

he was telling the truth, you felt like heaven, like silk and gold. truly, like you were made for him.

"i was made for you, trev." you whispered, inflicting a reaction out of him, his dick twitching.

his hand fell where you were connected, fumbling with your clit again. he watched as your face contorted, as you whined and moaned, and came again.

you watched as he smiled, love drunk, and continued his pace as he leaned his head back.

you grabbed his chin, like you had the plenty times before, so familiar, pulling it up for him to look at you.

"cum for me, trevor, cum in me." you whined, partially impressed you got all that out, feelings of sensitivity and pleasure overwhelming you in every sense.

his head dropped again, this time on your shoulder, as he finished.

you stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily, hands still wrapped around shoulders and held tightly onto hips.

then, trevor was laughing. you perked up, questioning him.

"its just, if you told me the night we met, that the gorgeous girl he saw, he met again and was actually into him, he'd probably cry then and there. i'm lucky, is all."

you weren't sure what to say to that, so you laughed with him, then pulled him in for a kiss.

his eyes fluttered open, pupils blown out in complete and utter bliss. "you wanna sleep over tonight?"

[babydollmarauders]

IF ONLY TO SAY YOU’RE MINE — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem! edwards! reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" & “i think I'm in love with you." with Luke.

notes: i listened to Sofia by Clairo on repeat while writing this ngl

“alright, there are rules.” Ethan tells me.

finally getting the chance to visit my older brother and see him play hockey with his school team is the most exciting part of my year. with Ethan being only a year older than me, we’ve always been close, so being so far away from each other for most of the year sucks.

“rules?” i question, turning my head to look at him rather than out the car window. we’re currently on our way to sophomore house after he picked me up from the airport.

“rules.” he confirms. “number one: you’re not stealing one of my jerseys to wear to the game, so i hope you brought your own.”

“i did.” i give him a single harsh nod.

“good. number two: you are in a house of hockey players, meaning there’s bound to be a game playing on the tv every night. you must watch with us. it’s bonding time so no hiding in my room.” he says. his eyes flicker between me and the road as he speaks and i give him another nod.

“i think i can handle that.” i affirm.

“lastly, rule number three, arguably the most important rule-”

“get on with it, E.” i cut him off and he sends a quick glare towards me before speaking again.

“do. not. crush. on. my. friends.” he emphasizes each word but with this rule, i stay silent. i’ve already stalked his friends instagram accounts, and though they’re all cute, there’s one in particular who’s caught my eye.

“y/n, no.” Ethan whines as he pulls the car into his driveway.

“i can’t control who i find attractive, Ethan!” i argue.

“no! who? who is it?” he interrogates.

“Luke Hughes.” i mumble, unbuckling my seatbelt as he puts the car in park. my brother groans, throwing his head back.

“i guess he’s not the worst one you could’ve chosen.” he admits. sighing, he turns off the engine, unbuckling his seat and proceeding to exit the car. i swing my car door open and hop out, rounding the back of the car where Ethan is grabbing my duffel bag from the trunk. he hands me the bag, starting towards the front door, and i follow in his footsteps, trailing behind him.

as soon as Ethan opens the door, i’m met with loud shouts. Ethan walks towards the noise and i stay a few steps behind him until we reach the living room. four boys are sat on the couch, two playing video games as the other two shout out unhelpful tips, and i recognize them from my insta stalking as Mackie, Mark, Dylan, and Luke.

“guys, this is my sister, y/n.” Ethan voice cuts through the yelling and the room goes quiet, all four boys turning their heads to look at me.

“what’s up? i’m Mackie.” he sticks his hand out for me to shake and i politely do so, feeling awkward already in a house full of guys.

“hey, i’m Dylan.” i shake his hand as well and he gives me a kind smile, easing my nerves slightly.

“hi. i’m Mark.” he gives me a full grin and i smile back, shaking his hand. i look over to Luke, assuming he would introduce himself too, but he just looks back at me with parted lips and slightly wide eyes.

oh. do i look bad? the flight was long, maybe i look rough. this is embarrassing.

“i- uh- Luke.” he tells me, slipping his hand in mine to shake. his cheeks twinge pink and i blush in return.

“nice to meet you guys.” i say.

“yo, Luke.” Mark badly whispers. “is there a reason you're blushing like that?”

the three boys laugh but Luke only flushes darker, and my brother stares at him with an unamused expression.

“keep it in your pants, Hughes.” Ethan’s words are gruff, and he takes ahold of my elbow. “let’s go. i’ll show you to my room.”

*

it’s been two days since i arrived and in those days i’ve gotten inaugurated into the boys group. i’ve joked around with Mackie, Dylan, and Mark, i tagged along to hockey practice, and i joined the guys in watching the Tampa Bay Lightning game, where i learned Dylan was drafted.

though through all of that, Luke and i have still been pretty awkward around each other. we’ve talked of course, and sure, we’ve joked around a little, but it’s been in a different way than the rest of the guys.

i’m currently sat on the couch between Luke and Ethan, watching a Devils game. i started watching the Devils as soon as my brother was drafted by them, so i have no qualms about watching this game.

we all sit at the edge of our seats, watching as Luke’s brother, Jack, has the puck. but it’s three on one and because of that, he’s unable to make the shot on net. the guys groan and i huff.

“where the hell was the defense?! they practically just stood there and watched as he had to try and breakaway from three men! they need to get their shit together and start playing like an actual team.” i rant. i glance away from the tv to see the guys, besides Ethan, all staring at me in shock. “what?”

“i think i’m in love with you.” Luke exhales and i can immediately feel the heat rising in my face as Ethan reaches behind me, smacking Luke on the back of the head.

“w-what?”

“sorry, i- not like, in love, in love.” he clarifies. “you’re just like, my dream girl. you’re kind, you’re hot, you’re funny, you’re into hockey. you’re perfect.”

“ugh, this is disgusting. just kiss already and get it over with. i’ll cover my eyes.”

-

-

-

-

[kis3memore]

Wicked Games

introduction, chapter 1

Summary: Chris is suffering from a nasty addiction and is desperate to find the right person to help him get out of it.

Warnings: slight smut, male receiving, cursing, drug use, alcohol use

WELCOME!! I was scared to post this, but then I was like, you know what? fuck it let’s do it. Anyway, this is my first EVER series on here I’m excited and nervous at the same time!

I hope you all enjoy this introduction!.. ig I’ll call it that.

...

"Watch your teeth," Chris tells the girl who is currently on her knees in front of him, she looks up at him as he grabs a fist full of her hair guiding her head up and down. He throws his head back, "Fuck, there we go, much better,"

He looked back down at the girl as she swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis, making him groan. "Come on, don't tease me," He huffed, turning his head towards the door as he heard shuffling and laughter. He looked back at the girl who was still going to town on him and let his eyes roll to the back of his head, leaning his head back and looked up at the ceiling, feeling dizzy as his vision started to spin and all the laughter from the other side of the door seem far away.

Of course, it was edibles, a joint, and only who knows how many shots he was gone. But to him, he felt amazing, like nothing would feel better than how he felt right now. He loved every minute of his high and wished it would never go away, but it did, and that's when he turned miserable again.

He does take knowledge of his bad addiction, every time he thinks about it he feels about cleaning up and staying sober, but he always ends up not taking his own advice. What's terrible is that he blames people for his addiction, "nobody cares to even help me sober up or even care to encourage me to stop," He felt alone in this world and is in desperate need of someone to save him, he doesn't care who he just wants that somebody to care about him.

His high was ruined when the girl on her knees in front of him decided to scrape her teeth on him once again, he winced looking down at her, "Yeah, you're done here," He pushed her off of him earning a confused look from her. He picked up his pants, buttoning them back up, "Go bite someone else's dick," He hated when his high was ruined, it put him in a bad mood, but that didn't stop him from getting high again.

He walked out of the room, leaving the girl shocked, probably still on her knees. He didn't care.

"Smoke some, drink some pop one"

The song blasts through the house, which holds a party every year school starts. The house belongs to one of the popular hockey players, who invites Chris to every party he hosts. This is the time and place where Chris can easily let loose. He makes his way back to the corner where he always goes with his best buddy, Nate.

"Oh wow, that was quick," Chris laughed, eyeing the joint that was held in between Nate's fingers, "Give me that," He pointed to it. Nate shook his head, moving it away from him, "Nah, you stole my first one. You ain't taking this one," Chris's face dropped, "I almost got my dick eaten off, and you're seriously doing this to me?" Nate's eyes widened as he heard what Chris told him, but then he laughed, shaking his head.

"This is legit the second time you almost went dickless," Nate said to him. Chris looked away from him, watching people walk in and out of the house, "Just give me that damn blunt," He heard Nate scoff, taking another hit before passing it to Chris, who gladly took it from his hand, "Thats what I thought," Taking a hit immediately, Nate shakes his head eyeing him as he does so. The look he gives Chris is mixed with concern and disgust, He's worried about his best friend's health and his addiction, but also disgusted with himself, the guilt he feels washes through him constantly as he is always the one to supply him with stuff and never has the guts to say no.

Chris looked back at the crowd behind him, his eyes landed on someone he couldn't stand, and his face turned sour from even looking at him. Taking one last hit, he passed the blunt back to Nate.

"Life of the party arrived," Chris said, turning his head again towards where "the life of the party" was. Mateo Hansley, on the football team, everyone knows him, but Chris despises him ever since he found out his ex was cheating on him with him. To this day, his ex still tries her all to get him back, and he sometimes finds himself considering it, but Nate pushes him back from it, telling him it's not a good idea, "Oh how cute, I'm surprised his stuck up girlfriend is not with him," Chris looked back at Nate, "Who's that?" He asked him.

"You don't know? Y/n Laurier, snobby little bitch, cheer team," He still didn't have a clue, squinting at Nate, who sighed, looking over at Mateo, "Best friends with the girl you took to the room over there," Chris now had his eyebrows raised, "Damn well, I hope she knows her bestie loves to bite off dicks," Nate laughs at him shaking his head, finishing off the blunt before he gets up from his seat, patting Chris's shoulder, "Lucky you still have yours,"

"Come on mister I'm always feining, I think we need some air and maybe touch some grass while we're at it," Nate said to him as he began to walk through the crowd and towards the door that led to the back yard, Chris rolled his eyes. "I think I'm okay," He muttered, taking the seat where Nate was sitting before he got up. He observed the crowd in front of him, looking at the people dancing, taking shots, smoking, and seeing people making out with one another.

"You look lonely," He sat up straight and looked around, trying to figure out if he actually heard that or if it was just his high messing with him, but no, he found someone actually sitting next to him, A girl he had never seen before, she looked at him with raised eyebrows, he looked back at her with the same expression, he opens his mouth to say something back but she beats him to it, "I'm real, and I'm really sitting next to you" She laughs at him, he does the same rubbing his forehead while shaking his head.

"Um, are you okay?" He snaps back to reality for a bit, looking behind her at the group of girls taking shots together, the girl next to him stays staring at him, waiting for him to speak, Wow this guy is high in the clouds, her mind said. "Oh yeah, I'm perfect! Also, I’m not alone I'm with my friend," He smiled at her answering her question, watching her nod awkwardly, You can just get up and walk away you know.

He wondered why she was still sitting here, getting annoyed a bit. "So, like, the real question is, what are you doing here alone?" he asked her this time. Her eyes traveled all the way down to his shoes, examining him like he were some object. He looked away from her quickly, biting his lip so that he wouldn't curse her out.

"I'm not alone I'm actually with my boyfriend, but who knows where he is right now," She shrugged letting out a breath, he looked at her suspiciously now, "And who's that?" The question came out of his mouth slowly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Mateo Hansley," She answered, and he widened his eyes. Speak of the devil, holy shit.

"I need to touch some grass," he mutters before getting up quickly and walking away. She sits there confused, watching him walk out the door leading to the backyard. "Stoner," she shook her head but then shrugged. Standing on her feet now, she continues to search for her boyfriend.

…

oh wow, yall read the whole thing???? was it good at least???

thank you so much for reading the introduction to my first series!! it’s short i know, but the chapters will be long, let me know what you guys think of it so far!