#montreal canadiens fic

[swissboyhisch]

Outed Secret

Pairing: Cole Caufield x Hughes!Reader

Summary: You were looking forward to the summer spent at the lake house. It was even more exciting because your boyfriend was also coming.

Word Count: 1609

Warnings: Alcohol, teasing, keeping secrets and annoying brothers.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Summer. A time when you spent days at the Lake House with your family. You and your brothers, all together under one roof, much to the horror of your parents. It was a place where you brought heaps of friends to celebrate the offseason, spending the days on the lake and drinking until sunrise.

This year, your parents decided to let the four of you have the house to yourselves, allowing you and your siblings to invite friends to enjoy the free time. You, of course, invited your best friend, knowing the summer could only get better with her by your side. It also meant you two could get up to a little mischief.

Each of your brothers invited some teammates, past and present. Luke brought some UMich boys: Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, and Mark. Jack, of course, had some of the NTDP boys coming, who were also your friends: Trevor, Alex, Cole, Matt, and Patrick. Quinn mainly invited some of his Canucks teammates: Petey, Brock, and Kuzy.

Your boyfriend was among the hockey players invited to the Lake House this summer. Not that any of your brothers knew that. God, they’d all kill you. Maybe not Quinn, but especially Jack if he found out who you had been dating, let alone dating one of his best friends for the last year… Yikes.

You and your best friend, Ella, were the first to reach the Lake House. The boys were due to arrive over the next couple of days, but for now, the two of you could go shopping for a heap of food for the next couple of weeks. Oh, and alcohol. Can’t forget that. The boys would kill you.

“How many people are going to be staying here?” Ella asked as you packed the food away.

“Uh, like 15 of us, give or take,” you replied.

“And Cole is one of them,” Ella smirked, throwing a bag of chips at you. She was one of the few people, besides Cole’s teammates, who knew.

“Yes, he is arriving tomorrow. Hopefully before Jack and Luke.”

“So you can smooch,” Ella teased.

That night, the two of you shared a pizza and some drinks while sitting around the fire pit, gossiping about the year you both had had in Michigan. You didn’t know how you managed to get the fire started. July 4th was this weekend, so plans about the weekend also slipped into the conversation.

The backdoor opened, interrupting the two of you who weren’t expecting any company. There stood Cole with a huge grin on his face, his arms outstretched, knowing you would sprint to him. It happened many times when he’d pick you up at Montreal-Pierre airport. Ever the romantic, the two of you were.

“Cole!” You sprinted from the pit to the patio, throwing yourself at your boyfriend. His arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Hey baby,” Cole chuckled, holding you close. “I’ve missed you.”

After he had dumped his bags in his, Jack, and Trevor’s room, Cole joined you to snuggle by the fire. The two of you shared a fluffy blanket, and the three of you caught up. Ella had joined you on a couple of trips to Montreal because you needed a cover story. You couldn’t just tell your brothers the truth about all the trips. ‘Hey Jack, you know how I keep going to Montreal every couple of months? Well, it’s to see your best friend, who is my boyfriend.’ God, you could just imagine Jack’s reaction.

It was special waking up next to Cole that morning, taking in the body heat that wrapped around you. But the moment didn’t last long. You could hear the front doors opening and the voices of your youngest brothers. Shit. That woke you up quickly. They were way earlier than any of you expected.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Cole was too sleepy to realise who the voices belonged to. Instead, you had to shove him out of the bed. The boy groaned when he landed on the cold wood floor.

“Cole, wake the fuck up. Jack and Luke are here.”

“What?!”

“They’re here early, Cole. Get the fuck out.”

That had him scrambling for his shirt and pants, and his other things, sneaking back to his and the boys' room before Jack could make his way to it. You pretended to sleep a little more before they came to get you out of bed like they loved to do.

“What’s all the noise for?” you groaned as you walked into the hall where Jack and Cole were hugging. You rolled your eyes at your brother’s over-dramatic antics and moved to the kitchen, making sure to call out behind you. “Good to know the bromance can survive being on different teams.”

“Good morning to you too,” Jack retorted.

The day continued, filled with looks shared between you and Cole, often over your brother’s shoulder. The day was spent on the boat with a small group, just hanging out and jumping on and off the boat in the middle of the lake. As the sun set, you found yourself around the fire pit once more with a few more people than the night before. Cole sat on the other side of the fire beside Jack.

“So, sis, we’ve heard you’ve got a boyfriend?” Jack grinned at you.

“What, no?” you lied, your eyes flicking to Cole for only a split second.

Jack chuckled, “Mum accidentally let slip you had a boyfriend. You can’t lie to us now.”

“Fine, I do.”

“How did you meet him?” Luke asked.

You thought about it for a split second. How do you lie and make sure no one connects the dots? “Here in Michigan.”

“Oh nice, so you met him at college,” Jack assumed.

Luke’s eyes focused on you. He was at UMich with you and didn’t remember you ever being with a guy. “At college?”

“Uh yeah?”

“What class did you meet in?” Luke continued.

“Art history,” you lied.

Luke didn’t believe you. The look on his face screamed skepticism. As the photographer for the hockey team, you hung out with him and the team nearly all the time. He knew you wouldn’t have had time for a relationship during college.

“How was your last trip to Montreal?” Jack asked, knowing you and Ella had spent a week in Canada after officially finishing college.

“It was great,” you grinned, “We had a blast.”

“Did you two catch up?” Luke asked, turning to Cole.

Now you could lie, but your poor sweet innocent boyfriend couldn’t. He lost every game of poker. “Yeah, we caught up for dinner, of course.”

“That’s good,” Luke muttered, watching Cole closely. “Glad to know she had a good tour guide.”

“He’s a great tour guide,” you interjected.

Jack stayed oblivious, but Luke’s eyes flicked between you and Cole. He did it for a solid minute before realisation crossed his face. You stood up and grabbed Luke’s arm, pulling him behind you.

“Luke, I need help getting the s'mores ingredients,” you said as you manhandled your tallest brother.

You pulled him into the kitchen and shoved him in, making sure to double-check that Jack didn’t follow you. Cole watched as you left, wanting to follow but knowing it would be suspicious.

“You keep it quiet,” you hissed at your baby brother.

“You and Caufield, seriously? How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“You can say we’re dating.”

“Gross,” Luke gagged.

“Grow up,” you retorted, poking your tongue out at him.

“No,” he sassed.

“To answer your question, we’ve been dating for nearly a year,” you told him, making him sigh once more.

“And that’s why you’ve been going to Montreal? Ella covers for you?”

“Ella actually comes to Montreal with me. But she has family there she sees,” you admitted.

Luke stayed quiet for a moment before nodding. He knew Cole and what he was like as a person. “Are you happy with Cole?”

At that very moment, Jack thought it was a great idea to step into the kitchen with Cole rushing in behind him. “Please say I misheard that,” Jack begged.

“Uh…”

“You didn’t,” Luke nodded, giving a pointed look at Cole standing behind Jack.

Jack turned to his best friend, “You’re dating my sister?!”

“About that,” Cole muttered, unsure of how to handle your brother. “Yes, I am. Our one year is coming up, actually.”

“Yeah, this weekend,” you admitted.

“So you guys got together on July 4th last year?!” Jack yelled.

At this time, Quinn finally arrived with Petey, Brock, and Kuzy in tow. Ella joined as well, wanting to double-check the arguing didn’t get physical between the siblings. She had seen them go crazy on each other before.

“What the hell is going on here?” Quinn asked, looking around the kitchen.

Jack pointed to where you and Cole were standing together and exclaimed, “These two are dating. For like a year!”

“Yeah? I know?”

“So what? Quinn got to know?” Luke frowned.

“How did you know?” you asked Quinn.

Quinn chuckled, “There are only so many times you can go to Montreal without an ulterior motive. It was either Cole or Juraj.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry Cole,” Quinn laughed.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment. The other Canucks and Ella stepped out, leaving the Hughes siblings and Cole alone. You stood next to Cole nervously, hand in hand. Quinn knew and was playing mediator now. Luke was upset about not being told, but Jack… Jack seemed pissed off. Which, to be fair, was what you expected. Then, after a moment, Jack broke the silence.

“Oh my god, that means we’re going to be brothers!”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @absolutelyhugh3s

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Jealous of Joe | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 1.9k

Juraj's jealous when he sees you with another certain athlete

(sorry for the bad google translate throughout)

You jog down the steps of Nationwide Arena until you're face to face with a wall of glass blocking you from the players on the ice. Your eyes roam the red and white jerseys, finding purchase when they land on the familiar number 20. You look over his figure, studying the way he skates down the ice with ease. He looks like he’s floating, stick down, looking for the puck, focused, perfect. 

You and Juraj Slafkovský have been friends since the minute he was drafted by the Montreal Canadiens. As one of many social media managers, you became best friends with the whole team, finding safe spaces in Cole, Nick, Kirby, Kaiden, Monty, and most importantly, Juraj. 

The first thing you ever bonded over was your mutual knowledge of the Finnish language. The two of you could converse for hours in Finnish and not even realize until another one of the boys finally gains the courage to ask about what you two have been saying. They even tried to use it to their advantage, asking if you understood what he would say in Slovak but you were no use in that department. 

You try to snap yourself out of the trance you were in, looking around the rink to see what kind of media you could create before the game. You’re in the middle of thinking up a new question or tiktok challenge when you feel a presence next to you. 

“They look good,” the stranger says from next to you and you don’t look over as you respond, somewhat hoping the person leaves. 

“Hopefully they keep it up during the game tonight,” you respond, knowing the Hab's tendency for third period strikeouts. 

“You think Caufield will score?” the boy next to you asks and you shrug. 

“It’ll make my job easier if he does,” you joke and the laugh that sounds from next to you is so melodic it has curiosity leading you to turn your head. 

To say you’re shocked by the man standing next to you is an understatement. After working in this league it takes a lot for you to get star struck by an athlete but you’re speechless, jaw dropped open looking at Joe Burrow standing next to you. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt out and the older boy turns to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“I’m Joe,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your back when his hand slides perfectly into yours. 

“(y/n),” you say, still not quite sure that you’re not totally dreaming. “No offense, but what are you doing here?” 

His laugh has you smiling right along with him and you find yourself wanting to hear more of it. 

“I’ve been meaning to come out and see a game for a while, meet the players and so on. I figured since I’m injured,” he takes the moment to lift up a carefully wrapped wrist in front of your eyes. “I would come and check it out.” 

“Well if you’re expecting your fellow Ohioans to win, I apologize in advance,” you say and Joe throws his head back in laughter.

“Oh really?” 

The two of you continue talking, trading jokes and reveling in each other's laughter. You were beyond enjoying the conversation with Joe and you almost forgot about the ongoing practice and job you should be doing. 

Juraj certainly didn’t forget. During practice, a game, in the arena, out of the arena, no matter what Juraj always has an eye on you. The minute you stepped up to the glass during his practice his eye was on you, watching what you were doing, but more importantly, who you ended up talking to. Juraj’s furious and jealous gaze roams your figure, hating the way your head is thrown back in laughter, pink rising to your cheeks at his words, the slight, shy movements he knew all too well. 

At some point his brain must have shut off because suddenly his body is barreling down the ice without a second thought. You’re mid sentence to Joe when a loud bang sounds in front of you and you both jump back in fear. You look up to see Juraj standing there, a sheepish smile on his lips but something different in his eyes. You shoot him a look that conveys the sentence “are you serious right now???” and Juraj waves awkwardly before backing off and skating away. 

“Your boyfriend?” Joe asks and you jump at his voice, forgetting he was there for a moment. 

“No, no,” you say, glancing at him before reverting back to following Juraj’s movements. “Just friends.” 

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you out then?” Joe asks and your body fully turns towards him at the question. 

“I can pick you up before the game tonight? I have an empty seat next to me,” he offers and you grin. 

“I’d love to.” 

Juraj spends the rest of practice pissed and all the boys can tell. They’re even playing a game, seeing who can mess with him the most before he truly snaps. 

Nick takes pity on him, the captain skating over to the young player. He follows Juraj’s gaze to where you are and watches as his eyes flame in anger when you smile at Joe. 

“What's up?” Nick asks, vague enough that Juraj can tell him what’s actually going on or he can brush it off. 

“He can fight?” Juraj asks and Nick fully turns to him in shock.

“What?” 

“I’m gonna fight him if he goes out with her,” Juraj says, determination so deep in his eyes that Nick knows he’s not a force to be reckoned with. 

Normally, before games you’re nervous for other reasons. Making sure you have enough content, tweets are loaded and ready to go, photos are edited and stats are ready to be posted. This time, your coworker is taking on those nerves while yours belong to the date you were about to go on. 

You looked over your outfit for what feels like the millionth time and smooth out the canadiens jersey that falls over your body. You were showing up with Joe but still had Juraj’s last name on your back; the irony. Joe knocks on your hotel room door right at 7 and you let out a breath before making your way to the front door. 

You were no stranger to Joe’s pregame outfits but you were shocked out how he could still look so incredibly good even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His smile is blinding and while you know you should be swooning at the sight, you can only think about Juraj’s crooked smile, the way he looks down, not wanting anyone else to see the beauty. 

You and Joe head to the arena, a short drive in his luxury car and he’s nothing but a gentleman the entire time. Your heart flutters from time to time but you’re not sure if it’s because of Joe, or because you're nervous to see Juraj. 

You two take your time getting to your seats, stopping to grab drinks before heading down as the players are finishing warm ups. Juraj thinks he’s safe, that he won’t have to control a temper for the rest of the game but it all falls flat when he sees Joe with an arm slung around your shoulders in the front row. 

“Leave it be,” Nick warns the younger player and he shakes his head, praying his focus turns towards the game. 

The game against the blue jackets is physical, to say the least. The boys are playing like it’s a revenge tour and the game is tied for most of the time. Third period begins and Juraj is firing on all cylinders at this point. He’s finishing his checks, he’s rushing down the ice, he’s doing anything and everything to forget about you and Joe. 

You watch as Juraj digs for the puck, a battle between him and one of the blue jackets players trying to gain possession of the puck. It sails down towards Nick and Juraj lets up, words clearly exchanged between him and the opposer. 

“Careful before I take your girl out next,” the player sneers at Juraj and he’s officially seeing red. 

You watch in slight horror as Juraj slams the player into the boards and fists go flying. The fight must last a quick 20 seconds but feels like a lifetime. You’re on your feet and pressed against the glass as Juraj gets up, a fresh cut on his cheekbone and his hair disheveled and hanging over his now dark eyes. 

 “Holy fuck,” you breathe out, watching as Juraj is escorted down the tunnel and some of the boys are casting glances in your direction. 

“(y/n)?” you’re snapped out of your trance at Joe’s voice and turn to find him with worry and understanding in his gaze. 

“I have to go check on him,” you say and Joe nods. 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek that explains all of his thoughts and feelings. You smile, a bit of sadness laced in the look, before parting and heading straight for the locker room. 

You race down, surprisingly not getting lost as you run and you flash your access badge like your life depends on it. You finally come face to face with the locker room door and you take a deep breath before flinging it open, unable to stay away from Juraj any longer. 

“Kto si, do pekla, myslí, že je? Sedí tam s ním a užíva si každú sekundu!! A ten sráč, ktorý-” Your brain flies a million miles an hour trying desperately to grasp the little Slovak language you know but to no avail. 

“Juraj?” you call and the 6 foot 2 hockey player halts all movements before turning towards you. 

“What are you doing here?” he grinds out, chest heaving trying to catch his breath. 

“I wanted to check on you.” 

“jebať ma,” he mutters angrily. “Go back to your new boyfriend.” 

Juraj was torn clean in half between two sides. One desperately wanting you here, wanting you to stay and talk to him, to explain that Joe meant nothing to you. The other half of him is infuriated, feeling disrespected that you would show up now after flaunting Joe in front of him. 

“What the fuck is your issue?” you snap, taking several steps till you're inches from Juraj’s face. 

“Ježiš Kristus.”

That’s the last thing you hear before Juraj leans down and slams his lips against yours, the kiss lighting you end to end in a fiery passion. His hands wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your tip toes and press your chest against his padded one. Your body takes a minute to catch up and when you do, your hands tangle deep into Juraj’s damp strands pulling him close and begging him to never let go. 

Unfortunately, humans need air and the two of you separate, panting heavily for a moment after. You fall back onto your heels and Juraj’s eyes search yours for a moment before speaking again. 

“You’re my issue,” he says and before you can retort he shushes you. “I love you. You walked into my game with my name on your back but your hand holding his.” 

Your eyes stare deep into his, your heart cracking at the idea that Juraj could ever be hurt by your actions. However, it’s filled back up when you remember him admitting that he loves you. 

“Oh minun rakkauteni,” you murmur, pulling him into you again and reveling in the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“It’s you baby. It always has been and it always will be,” you promise. 

Juraj grins against you, the moment fleeting but lasting forever. 

[senditcolton]

As Long As I'm With You

After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch/in bed after a hard day, wiping away their tears with soft touches and gentle words – trying to convince them it’s okay, and that you’re there for them now.

summary: being injured makes you feel helpless and you despised it. lucky for you, your athlete boyfriend knows what you're going through and therefore knows just how to comfort you song inspo: OK by backstreet boys word count: 0.9k warnings: injured reader, self-doubt & self criticism, hurt/comfort requested by anon

If there was one thing that you prided yourself on, it was your independence. You had gotten this far in life without using others as a crutch. You didn’t realize that that emotional strength would be shattered the same time that your physical strength was. You didn’t realize how much you relied on your autonomy until it was taken from you and replaced with actual crutches.

A torn ACL that required surgery to fix was all that it took to remove the one aspect of your personality that you cherished. A torn ACL was all it took to leave you helpless.

That loss made you fight harder to recover, just so you could have that strength back, both physically and emotionally. But that need to regaining your independence was how you wound up here; on the couch with tears streaming down your face.

You had just come downstairs for a bite to eat, that was all. After being in bed most of the day, you needed to move. You had been able to walk about the house without help recently and that shouldn’t have changed today, you thought. How very wrong you were.

Leaving the bedroom and making your way down the stairs was easy enough, just as long as you went slow and kept a firm grip on the railing. But when you tried to retrace your path and ascend the carpeted staircase, your knee started throbbing in pain. And you were stupid enough to leave your crutches leaning by your bed.

You had made it halfway up before you couldn’t manage another step, collapsing on the carpeted floor and sliding your body back down to the landing. You managed to hobble to the couch before collapsing onto the soft cushions, your legs stretched out in front of you.

That’s when the tears started. Not just from the pain radiating from your injured knee but also from the complete feeling of helplessness. Once the first tear hits your cheek, there is no stopping the downpour, covering your eyes as you choke back sobs.

You are so frustrated, so overwhelmed, that you don’t hear the garage door open. The sound of your boyfriend Josh returning doesn’t even register until you feel him gently grabbing your arms, pulling your hands away from your face. 

The minute your eyes connect with his blue ones, your heart breaks at the sight of fear shining in his irises. His mouth is moving but it takes a minute for you to fully register the words falling from his lips.

“Baby, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?”

The questions come in rapid succession, the panic in his tone obvious. You take a few shaky breaths, trying to piece yourself back together.

“I’m fine, or,” you sniffle, “my knee is fine. Just a little sore.”

Josh’s gaze stays locked to yours, waiting patiently for you to continue, intrinsically knowing that there was more you wanted – no, needed – to say. You heave a sigh, your eyes looking skywards as you feel another wave of tears swell.

“It’s just…” you begin, your words sticking in your throat. “I just hate this, Josh. I feel so goddamn useless. Like, I can’t even – I can’t even walk up the stairs without help. Everything I used to be able to do effortlessly, I now just… God, I just – I feel like such a fucking burden.”

The teardrops fall again, hitting and soaking the fabric of your clothes as your head drops. You don’t want to look Josh in the eye. The last thing you needed was his sympathetic gaze. Instead, you keep your eyes locked on your hands, clasped tightly in your lap. A moment of silence passes until Josh speaks.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Sweetheart. Look at me.”

The gentle plea is all you need to hear. And when your eyes lock, you are slightly surprised to not see a shred of sympathy in those baby blues that you loved. Instead, Josh is staring at you with the utmost understanding and care.

“You aren’t a burden,” he tells you, his fingers tightening around your hands. “Not to me, not to anyone else. If you need help, we’ll help you. Because that’s what you do: help the people you love.”

This time, the tears that come aren’t heavy with frustration and sadness. Instead, they are happy – Josh’s words making your heart both ache and mend. His gentle assurance that he would be there for you feels more healing than any of the physical therapy you had already gone through. Josh shoots you a soft smile, his hand lifting to wipe the moisture away from your skin.

“Come on, let’s cheer you up, yeah? Do you want me to call your injury buddy? Have him come over?”

You let out an unsteady laugh at his suggestion. He was referring to Joel Edmundson, the defenseman being a close friend of yours far before you the two of you became, as Josh said, ‘injury buddies’ – you with your knee and him with his back.

“Are you alright with waiting on both of us?” you quip, the words playful but still twinged with some lingering fear. A fear that Josh immediately silences with his smile.

“Absolutely. Well, Eddy might have to fend for himself but for you, anything.”

“Don’t be mean,” you laugh in response to his joking words. Josh’s grin brightens when he hears your lighthearted tone return. “Okay,” you say, “Yeah, call Joel.”

Josh lifts himself from the carpet next to the sofa where he had been kneeling, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head before he moves to the kitchen where he must have dropped his cellphone when he came in.

“Hey Josh,” you call out to him, bringing his attention back to you. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Always.”

sign up for my taglist here! support my work through Ko-fi here!

[bedards-bunnie]

NHL Players Reacting To Finding Out You're Pregnant ❄️🐰

Content: Pregnancy, Established relationships Notes: Please let me know if I missed anyone you would like to see! I hope you enjoy..please interact if you did, feedback is appreciated! 💗

*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ

Connor Bedard

He freezes. Like completely stops functioning for a solid minute.

“Wait, really? Like… really, really?”

Once it sinks in, a huge grin grows on his face

He reaches out to touch your stomach, even though he knows there’s nothing there yet.

He’s still processing days later

“Holy shit… we’re gonna be parents.”

He immediately starts researching  “how to be a good dad”  but doesn’t tell you out of embarrassment.

Will NOT shut up about it to his teammates once he gets over the shock.

Nico Hischier

Literally stops breathing for a second. He thinks he misheard you

Hands on his hips, pacing. Runs a hand through his hair.

“Are you serious?”

When you nod, his whole face lights up with this attractive, excited smile.

Pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume.

“I love you. So much. Oh my.”

Probably tears up but tries to be subtle about it.

Calls his mom IMMEDIATELY.

That night, he lies awake, just staring at you in awe, hand resting protectively on your stomach.

Adam Fantilli

“No way. No fucking way. Are you messing with me?”

As soon as you confirm, he just starts grinning like a fool.

Picks you up and spins you around happily.

“WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!”

Lowkey freaks out about being a dad but masks it with excitement.

Already planning matching hockey jerseys for the baby.

Catches himself watching you all the time now, like holy shit, you’re carrying our baby.

Leo Carlsson

His eyes go wide and he just blinks.

“Really?” His voice is so soft and unsure.

When you nod, he immediately wraps his arms around you and just holds you tight.

Kisses your forehead, then your stomach.

“You’re gonna be the best mom.”

Gets really emotional but doesn’t say much

Looks up Swedish baby names

Jack Hughes

Stares at you for a solid ten seconds.

“Wait. What?”

Once he processes, he just drops his head into his hands, overwhelmed.

But when he looks up he’s smiling so big.

“Holy shit. We’re gonna have a baby.”

“I mean you’re gonna have a baby..but- but it’s mine, right?

Hugs you so tight, burying his face in your hair.

Calls Luke IMMEDIATELY to freak out.

Will not stop touching your stomach even though it’s early.

“Hey, baby, it’s your dad. I love you already.”

Quinn Hughes

Just stares at you for the longest time.

He’s so overwhelmed but doesn’t know what to say.

Finally, he just pulls you in, pressing his face against your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Do you feel okay?”

Tries to act calm, but you can feel his heart racing.

Kisses your forehead and whispers, “I love you so much.”

He won’t let go of you in bed and keeps one hand on your stomach.

Tyler Bertuzzi

“No shit?”

Smirks at first, but then he actually processes it.

“Wait. I’m gonna be a dad?”

You see it hit him all at once and he grabs your face, kissing you hard.

“You know our kid’s gonna be an absolute menace, right?”

Immediately starts thinking about all the dumb dad jokes he’ll get to use.

Brags to literally everyone who will listen.

“Yup, knocked her up. Guess I did something right.”

Trevor Zegras

“NO WAY.”

Literally jumps up and down like a child.

“We’re having a BABY?! We made a whole human?!”

Pulls you into his lap, holding your face in his hands.

“Holy shit, I love you so much.”

Immediately starts making TikToks about being a dad.

Buys baby Ducks merch within an hour.

Alex Vlasic 

Stops mid-breath.

“Are you serious?”

When you nod, his face softens immediately.

Holds your hands in his and kisses your knuckles.

“I love you.”

Becomes super protective overnight.

Talks to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep.

Gets teary-eyed thinking about holding your baby for the first time.

Jordan Binnington

“Wait, hold on.”

Visibly panicking.

“Like, an actual baby? Like… OUR baby?”

Sits down, processing, then suddenly grins.

“Shit. I’m gonna be a dad.”

So protective. Tries to ban you from doing anything remotely dangerous.

Insists on driving you everywhere.

Will absolutely fight someone for looking at you wrong.

Vince Dunn

Eyes go wide. Mouth slightly open.

“No way. No fucking way.”

Tears up immediately.

Wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck.

“I love you. So much.”

Starts referring to you as “baby mama” immediately.

Can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

“Our kid is gonna be a little shit, huh?”

Luke Hughes

Stares at the test for way too long. Blinks. Looks at you. Looks back at the test.

Hand running through his hair, pacing for a second before stopping in front of you.

“You’re serious?”

When you nod, he exhales sharply and then he’s grinning, pulling you into his arms.

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby.”

Face buried in your neck, arms holding you tight. A little shaky, a little overwhelmed, but so happy.

Lowkey panics about being a good dad. Watches so many parenting videos. Asks Quinn and Jack way too many questions.

Will 100% cry when he holds the baby for the first time.

Juraj Slafkovský

Eyes go wide. Mouth slightly open.

“No way. No fucking way.”

Scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. Realizes mid spin that you’re pregnant and panics, putting you down so very gently.

“You’re serious?” he asks, voice soft, hands shaking a little. When you nod, he just stares at you in awe.

Holds your face in his hands, forehead pressed to yours, whispering, "I love you so much."

Calls his mom immediately. Literally before you even sit down. She cries and now he’s crying too.

So protective. So dramatic about it. You get up too fast? “Baby, sit.” You try to carry something? “Nope. I got it.”

Talks to your belly in Slovak every single night. Tells the baby about his games, how much he loves you, how excited he is to meet them.

Buys the tiniest baby skates he can find. Will not stop showing them to you.

Insists the baby’s first word is gonna be “hokej”

Loses his mind the first time he feels the baby kick. “Did you see that? Our baby’s already an athlete.”

Holds your hand through the whole delivery. Kisses your forehead, whispering, “You did so good, láska.”

*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ

[puck-luck]

airline affection | cole caufield

warnings: drinking (tequila), sex with a stranger, protected p in v (me breaking my pattern fr), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, hair pulling, mentions of a round 2 but not explored in this fic (will probably not be explored in a part 2 either because i like how this fic ends), use of Y/N (my least fav)

pairing: cole caufield x fem!reader

summary: cole caufield and fem!reader basically join the mile high club, despite their feet being on the earth.

wc: 3,772

There are a lot of things that you hate about winter storms. The number one thing, though, is when it delays your plane. You’re usually impatient in airports. The energy in these buildings seems to spark something in you that just makes you restless. You’re almost always checking the time and your eTicket to make sure nothing changed since the last time you checked it a minute prior. You’re running through your checklist of to-dos and making sure you have everything you need in case your flight gets so delayed that you need to book a hotel. 

You’re already pretty sure that you won’t make your connection, although the three-hour layover between landing and departure was a nice cushion. It’s not like your flight has been delayed by much, anyway. It’s just an hour. You’ll still have time. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can sprint across the airport and still make it with plenty of time to spare. 

If not, getting a hotel in Montréal for the night wouldn’t be too bad. The city seems interesting enough, though… knowing yourself, you probably won’t venture out of the airport and hotel if you are stuck there for the night. You’ll want to get on the first flight out since you’re already anxious to get home, so you’ll just bite the bullet and go to bed early.

The minutes continue to drag on and you watch your layover grow slimmer and slimmer, until you know it’s futile to make it from one terminal to the next. Especially once the gate agent behind the desk turns on the microphone and you hear his voice, automatically more grating because of the news he presents, announce that the plane has been delayed another forty minutes. He can’t help it, but you still wish you could go over and tear into him and vent out all of your frustrations.

You instead stand up and drag your carry on behind you towards the airport bar about a hundred feet from your gate. You snag a seat at the dark, polished wooden bartop, tucking your carry on between your stool and the bar itself. Even though you don’t believe anyone would actually steal your carry on while it’s right by your side, you take the precaution anyway… even if it makes you uncomfortable. You order a drink from their specialty cocktails– something with tequila and lime and pineapple– and seethe to yourself.

When you lift your eyes to the mirror behind the bar, nestled behind rows of liquor bottles, you catch a glimpse of a strong jaw and a pointed nose. You double take at the tousled mop of hair on this man’s head and linger on the dimples bracketing his glowing smile. 

You can’t feel bad or angry when you’re looking at a smile like that. 

He’s with a group of guys, drinks in hand, and they’re laughing. You can’t tell if this guy was the person who made the joke that sparked the chortles around his table or if he’s laughing along with something one of his friends said. 

Lifting his glass of beer to his mouth, the man happens to catch your eye in the mirror.

You blush and duck your head, startled that you were caught staring at this guy. You stare at the rim of your glass and trace the condensation on the side, letting a dewdrop gather on your fingertip and seep into the miniscule ridges that define your touch. 

After enough time has passed, you dare to peek at this guy again.

His gaze was waiting for you. His grin changes imperceptively, neither growing softer nor wider but changing somehow, and he lifts his glass in a tiny toat. It’s an acknowledgement of your stare and a casual ‘hi,’ should you choose to take it.

You feel yourself blushing again and lift your hand in a miniature wave before you pinch your bottom lip between your thumb and index finger to tame the change in your expression. You’ve never been good at controlling your face, especially not when a cute boy is going out of his way to notice you. It’s not like this never happens, but you still get a flutter in your stomach whenever it does.

You sip from your straw, gulping down a couple of moutfuls of your drink. To entertain yourself, and to avoid looking in the mirror again lest you make eye contact with this guy, you pull out your phone. You’re fully intending to text the group chat with your closest friends, saying that there’s a hot guy behind you in the airport bar, when you notice the aforementioned hot guy taking the seat to your right.

“Hi,” the man says. His voice has a distinct quality to it– not in a bad way. It just sounds like all of his words come from the back of his throat. His pitch is lower than you expected. Just from one word, you can tell that he talks with the confidence of a much taller man.

“Hi,” you reply. You take a sip of your drink after speaking. 

“Are you a nervous flier?” he asks.

You eye him, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He gestures to the drink in your hand. “You’ve been downing that thing. Trying to get a buzz before your flight takes off?”

“Oh,” you say lamely. You shake your drink, the ice cubes clinking in the glass. “Not really. I’m just annoyed. Delays, you know. I’m drinking in memoriam of my connecting flight.”

The man laughs, to your surprise. That wasn’t even a good joke, but here he is. He raises his glass, holding it out to yours and clinking the rims together. “In honor of your connection,” he says, then raises his glass to his lips. He raises an eyebrow and you do the same after stalling for a brief moment.

You’re not even in a good outfit. You’re in airport clothes, just leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, plus a baseball cap so no one sees how greasy your hair is underneath the cap, and this guy with– holy shit– massive fucking biceps is flirting with you. He’s leaning close to you, too, and he smells nice. Old Spice, maybe. 

“So, how long until your flight?”

You look at the time on your phone. “Thirty minutes.”

“Cool.” He nods. “Can I get you another drink?”

You consider the offer. 

“Or,” he lowers his voice to a whisper and brings his mouth close to your ear. “If you’re interested, I could provide you with another kind of stress relief.”

Your mouth gapes as he pulls away and fixes you with a confident, yet kind smile in the face of such a flagrant offer. 

“Think about it,” he murmurs. He catches the eye of the bartender. “Two chilled Casamigos blanco shots, please, under Suzuki.” When the bartender turns to pour the shots for him, the guy turns back to you. “A confidence boost. I’ll be over there, with the guys. Come find me if you want to make good on that second offer.” He takes one of the small glasses from the bar and clinks it with yours before heading back to his table. 

You stare at him, swiveling in your stool as he goes. Your jaw is still hanging open. It’s only once this guy– whose first name you still don’t know, by the way, except that it might be Suzuki?– returns to his table that you right yourself in your seat and touch the shot before you. 

You whip out your phone and take a picture of the shot. Hot guy in airport just bought me this shot and offered to have sex with me???? You type with frantic fingers, sending the message to the group chat you’d been planning to text before the man came over and made a move on you.

Your friends are well aware that your flight was delayed. They have been waiting for an update and this one is more than welcome, simply because of how dramatic and unexpected it is. 

send pic!! One of your friends replies, which the other friend emphasizes.

You’re able to snipe the man through the mirror of the bar, pretending like you’re taking a picture of the liquor selection. If they zoom in, your friends will be able to see his side profile and judge it accordingly.

Good enough for an airport crush, the second friend says.

you’ll basically be a member of the mile high club if you do it, says the first. 

You pocket your phone and fix your eyes again on the shot before you. It’s acclimating to the room temperature of the bar, but you can still see sharp shards of ice floating in the clear liquid. 

Fuck it. 

You take the shot and close your tab. Why shouldn’t you fuck this dude? How many people can say they’ve hooked up with an airport crush rather than losing them to distance and time? It’s not like you’ll ever see this guy again. You take a brisk, short breath and set your jaw. 

Once again dragging your carry on behind you, you approach his table and tap his shoulder.

Immediately his face splits with a smile. “I hope this is a good sign.”

“Let’s go,” you say without room to argue. You sound a lot more confident than you feel, but you’re also riding on the absurdity of the situation. You’re about to have sex in an airport. With a stranger. That goes against every rule of stranger danger that you’ve ever learned.

“You can leave your carry on with the guys,” he says. “They’ll watch it.”

You grip the handle. Leaving your luggage with a bunch of randos is where you draw the line. “No, I think I’ll bring it with me.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. C’mon.” He takes your other hand and leads you out of the bar, looking both ways before darting to the right. 

A hundred feet later, he’s locking the door to the single-stall family bathroom and pushing you up against it.

“What if someone knocks?” you ask.

“We’ll be quick,” he says, not answering your question. He kisses you before you can speak again.

Like everything that this man has done so far, the kiss is sudden and surprising. He overwhelms you and, while in the first second your eyes had grown wide in shock, your eyelids flutter shut and you melt into the kiss. 

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and you welcome him in, tasting the beer that lingers in his mouth. He is quick, like he promises– his hand is making its way past your waistband and when he touches the band of your panties, you jerk back.

“Wait,” you say. 

The man pauses, his hand drawing back up to your stomach and resting there.

“What’s your name?”

He cracks a smile. “You scared me for a sec there. I’m Cole.” He lifts his hand from your stomach and finds your right hand, fitting them together in a handshake even though it’s a weird angle. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N,” you reply. 

Cole drops your hand and lets out a little chuckle. “Cute. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.” You put a hand on the hair at the nape of Cole’s neck. “As you were, soldier.”

There’s no time to cringe at the statement before Cole is kissing you again and inching his fingers into your panties. He’s laughing at the little nickname you uttered, his kisses growing shorter and sweeter as his mouth moves with his chuckles. 

You don’t speak much after that, but Cole does make a litany of quiet moans and sighs tumble from your mouth. 

His fingers are blunt and certain with each movement. Cole’s cock presses into your hip as he touches you. With the constraints of your panties, because he hasn’t taken your leggings or underwear off, the pads of his digits flick over your clit and draw wetness and slick from your pussy. 

Within minutes, the digits are making their way to your entrance. It is not slow and reverent like you have experienced in the past, but you like that. You like that Cole is kissing you as his fingers work inside of you with a singular purpose– to open you up and prepare you to take his cock. 

Your legs are shaky and weak when Cole adds a second finger to your heat, then a third. They’re pushing inside of you, pushing in and out and thrusting until your hole has stretched to fit him. His tongue has moved to your jawline, tracing down the column of your neck and leaving wet kisses in the wake of the trail.

Unable to handle all of the pleasure he’s giving you without doing much at all, and unable to bear the uselessness that you feel while his hands are busy and yours are not, you push your hand down the front of his pants and grasp his length. 

Cole smiles into your skin and sucks a hickey just above the collar of your sweatshirt. 

You grip the member, feeling the hot flesh rub against your palm when you fist it. You try to picture Cole’s cock from touch alone, feeling the ridges and veins press into your grasp. Your thumb and index finger circle the crown of his cock, following the curve on the underside of the cockhead that reflects his cupid’s bow though not nearly as prominent.You come up to his very tip then all the way back down, feeling the soft thatch of hair at the base. He fits comfortably in your hand and there’s still room for you to move up and down, and you relish in the choked groan that he paints into the crook of your neck.

His efforts double when you touch him, which makes you work harder, and then it just becomes a competition. You try to beat each other out to see who can relent first, but it just dissolves into a fit of laughter when you realize what the other person is doing.

Cole guides you toward the sink with his other hand pressing into your side, finally working his hand around to pull your leggings down. He struggles since his fingers are still buried in your cunt and your hand is rather distracting as it pulls on his cock, but he eventually manages to get the tight fabric down to your mid-thigh. 

“How’s this going to work?” you ask, your bare behind coming into contact with the cold sink. You jump a bit and reach for the paper towel dispenser with your free hand, tugging a few sheets loose so that you can lay them on the edge of the sink and put a barrier between your body and the germs.

“Gonna bend you over a bit, if that’s okay,” Cole says. His words are certain, although he’s sure to check with you and make sure it’ll be comfortable.

“Okay,” you agree, allowing him to turn you around. You lay the paper towels down and lean against the sink, bending at the hinge of your hips. You look at Cole in the mirror and grin. 

He matches you. You watch him shove a hand into his pocket, coming back with a condom. He tears the wrapper and rolls the silicon onto himself. He slides his cock between your ass cheeks and thrusts slowly, just to feel the way that you grip him. After a couple of smooth movements, he brings his tip to your entrance and breaches the tight ring, which had drawn back into itself when Cole removed his fingers.

His hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, keeping you in place. You’re grateful for the touch because you do lurch forward when he buries his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward until his abdomen is flush with your behind. Without his hand holding your neck, you probably would have knocked your forehead into the mirror hanging on this airport bathroom wall.

“Careful,” Cole murmurs with a tilted smirk. “Can’t have you getting a concussion on me, Y/N.”

“Maybe be gentler,” you bite back without any heat brewing behind your words. 

“You want me to be gentle?” Cole asks. He draws out of you as slowly as he can, then fucks back into you at the same pace. It’s so slow that all the pleasure is lost on you– it just feels like something mechanical is filling you and leaving you. You know he’s just being difficult and even though you’re stubborn, it still makes you go back on your request.

“No, I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, pushing your hips back. “Really fuck me.”

“Good,” Cole says. “Hold on.”

You fit your hands around the curves of the sink, gripping the slippery fake-marble as best you can. You watch Cole in the mirror. 

There’s something poetic about that– you spotted him in the mirror of the bar less than twenty minutes ago and now you’re watching him draw out of your pussy until just his tip remains. 

He bites down on his lower lip as he thrusts forward, finding a brutal rhythm. His hand goes from your neck to your shoulder, his fingertips curling over to the front of your body and digging into the flesh above your collarbone. He keeps you more securely in this place in this position, even pulling you back to meet his thrusts. 

A strand of hair, wavy and delicate, falls over his forehead. His cheeks dimple as his face contorts through the movements. He’ll grimace and grit his teeth, but you know it’s not because of pain or anything negative. He’s doing his best to stay quiet, you think, just like you are. The door of this bathroom separates you from the gates and the hoards of people traveling to a new destination and none of them want to hear two people having sex– except, you know, a perv. There are bound to be a few in the crowds. Still– you don’t want them to hear you.

There’s a vein in Cole’s neck that is popping out from the hyper-focus he has on your body. He’s looking down, eyes fixed on the space where your body welcomes his driving hips and his unrelenting cock. 

Punishing thrust after punishing thrust has you hurtling towards orgasm. In this position, and with Cole pulling you back onto his cock, he’s hitting all the spots inside of you that have your stomach turning and clenching and twisting. It doesn’t help that the edge of the sink is digging into your abdomen and applying pressure.

“Can feel you getting tighter,” Cole grits out. “Come on, Y/N. Come.”

His voice is tight when he speaks, like he’s trying to hold himself together until you unravel. The timbre is hot as hell and you let out an involuntary whimper, dipping your head.

Cole brings his other hand to your hair and yanks your head back up. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, narrowed like he didn’t want you to look away from him even though he wasn’t looking at you, and the jerk of pain on your scalp sends you over the edge.

You come, entrance spasming around Cole’s shaft as the climax takes over you. Your jaw drops and your eyelids flutter. 

Cole loosens his grip on your hair and your head falls forward– he allows it this time. His hand comes to your hip and keeps you steady, along with the hand on your shoulder, as he chases his own orgasm. You ride out the aftershocks and Cole prolongs them, if only a little bit. He bucks forward a few times before you can feel his cock twitching and spurting cum into the rubber wrapped around him.

After coming, Cole fills you with hard thrusts four or five times. Then, he draws out of your heat and removes the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trashcan. He covers it with a layer of paper towels before returning to you and wiping you clean. 

You’re the one to draw your panties and leggings up, feeling satiated. It’s clear that you’ve been fucked, knowing your own body, but you don’t feel like you’re gaping. There’s a dull energy around your core, but it’s indescribable. 

Cole tucks his cock away and reaches behind you to put a bit of soap on his hands, then hip-bumps you out of the way to have full use of the sink. He grins at you through the mirror.

You hover awkwardly for a chance to wash your own hands. As you do, Cole comes behind you and kisses your cheek.

“That was fun,” he says.

You hum, agreeing with a nod.

“Have a safe flight,” Cole bids you before he slips from the bathroom. 

It’s probably better that you’re leaving at different times; you wait a few minutes before nonchalantly leaving the room yourself. There’s no one nearby that is giving you a second look and you’re astonished that no one knocked on the door while you were fucked thoroughly by a stranger– yeah, you’re still on that– but you also feel a bit proud. You did something wild and no one is the wiser.

You head back to your gate with your carry on wheeling along behind you, finding a seat and waiting less than five minutes before you board. You’re in one of the first few groups because you’re insane about checking in and being on time. It also helps that you’ve been flying on this airline forever and you have a boatload of rewards points. 

As you’re fastening your seatbelt in your window seat near the wings, the same one you always choose, a familiar voice greets you.

“Would you look at that,” Cole says. He lifts his carry on into the overhead compartment and double-checks the row number. “What are the chances that we’re sitting together too, Y/N?”

Your face floods with heat and you immediately know that there’s a red blush coating your horrified expression. You were operating under the impression that you’d never see Cole again… and now you have to spend a whole flight beside him.

“What do you think about round 2?” Cole asks in a low voice, sly and conniving. He leans back after the proposal, dimples as deep as you’ve ever seen them. He fastens his own seatbelt and knocks his knee against yours.

The universe might be out to get you.

But you might take him up on that offer too.

[withwritersblock]

Take Your Time

~Take Your Time by Hudson Westbrook~ Author's Note: requested! idk but words are written :) Summary: Cole falls for the girl across the coffee shop Warnings: n/a Word Count: 3,185 Cole Caufield x fm!reader

Cole was someone who never hesitated on approaching a pretty girl. He would smile and wink and the girl would usually want to go home with him. Said pretty girl was always someone who was in a random city. It was rare for him to seek anyone out when he was in Michigan or even during the season. He never wanted anything long term.

Especially with the expectations of the new season. The team was buzzing and he was nearing new career highs in the stats department. He didn’t want a distraction. But here he was distracted as can be while watching the gorgeous girl read a book across the coffee shop. She had an empty iced coffee in front of her and she kept reaching towards it wanting another sip of it. 

He cleared his throat as he stood up from his table he had claimed for himself, Nick, and Caitlin. He walked up towards the registrar. The barista smiled towards him, a blush to her cheeks. “I was wondering if you remember what she had ordered,” Cole asked as he subtly pointed towards the beautiful girl across the way. 

The barista’s lips parted slightly before she cleared her throat. “She’s a regular, of course I remember,” she let out jokingly. 

Cole spun his head around, smiling softly. “Can I buy her another one?” Cole offered while already handing the barista his card. The barista quietly took the card and proceeded with the transaction. “Thanks so much,” he let out quietly, glancing back towards the girl as she frustratingly put the glass back down.

This time as Cole looked towards her, she lifted her gaze up and met his gaze from across the coffee shop. Her lips curled upward softly as she nervously dropped her gaze back down towards the book in her hand. 

Cole took the receipt, quickly shoving it back down into his pocket. Spinning on his heel, he looked towards Nick and Caitlin as they were walking inside. Cole smiled towards them as he pointed towards the table with his half-empty drink.

Nick sat down at the table while Caitlin walked towards Cole. “Did you want another one?” she asked him after giving him a brief hug. 

“I’m good, thank you,” he told her as he walked back towards the table. He sat down at the seat with his coffee front and center. His gaze landed on the girl again, watching her brush a few pieces of hair away from his face.

“What are you staring at?” Nick questioned. Cole’s cheeks instantly flushed red as a wide grin formed to his lips, “Let me rephrase,” he let out while chuckling, “Who are you staring at?” 

Cole rolled his eyes playfully as he took a deep breath, “Hello to you to,” Cole offered teasingly before he brought his coffee towards his lips. “Why’s your fiance ordering for you?” Cole asked, meeting Nick’s gaze. Nick rolled his eyes playfully.

“Because she knows what drink I like but I can never remember what it’s called,” Nick let out as he watched Caitlin return towards the table, with a receipt in her hand. She handed it towards Nick. He reached over, pulling the chair out for her. “Thank you, my love,” Nick let out. She smiled towards him before she looked towards Cole.

Who was watching the barista bring the girl her new drink. Cole was waiting to meet her eye, hoping she wouldn’t find it weird. Especially since this was a move that is usually pulled in a bar, not a coffee shop. The barista handed the girl the drink, he watched as she was questioning if it was meant for her.

The barista pointed across the coffee shop, Cole swore she watched his full government name fall from the barista’s lips. The girl grinned as she nodded; accepting the drink. She looked towards Cole from across the way. She smiled politely; mouthing the words thank you.

Cole nodded as he reluctantly looked towards Nick beside him. “So you’re not going to go over there?” Caitlin interrupted while shaking her head. Nick chuckled softly. 

“Go flirt, we’ll be waiting,” Nick teased as he smacked his hand against Cole’s shoulder. Cole chuckled nervously before glancing towards Caitlin; almost asking a girl’s opinion on it. She nodded encouragingly which was enough to push him to actually get up to say hi. 

He took a hold of his own drink, “Won’t be long, I promise,” he muttered towards the couple before he stood up from the table and manuvered through the coffee shop. Their eyes met as Cole walked up towards the table. He felt his heart jump into his throat, as his vision started getting blurry.

The closer he got to the table, the more he realized; she was definitely out of his league, beautiful. He pointed towards the chair beside her. 

“Can I sit?” he asked softly. 

“Absolutely, Cole Caufield,” she offered teasingly. “The barista said your name like I’m supposed to know it, are you famous?” she said as their eyes met. Cole dropped his head with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. Delicately, he rested his coffee onto the table. 

“I play for the Montreal Canadiens,” he said simply. She nodded slowly, not understanding a word he was saying. Another laugh left his lips, “I play for the professional hockey team here,” he offered while scanning her stunning features. The smile on her lips meant it was going so far so good.

“So you must be good then,” she said while resting her arms against the table. She leaned closer to him. He nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Enough,” he teased. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Thank you for my refill, Cole,” she offered quietly. 

“Anytime…” he trailed off, waiting for her to tell him her name.

“Y/N,”

“Anytime Y/N,” he repeated as he continued to look over her features. He reached towards his coffee, awkwardly bringing it towards his lips. “This is a lot more intimidating to do with natural lighting,” he said jokingly. 

She giggled, “It was very sweet of you, but you should know–” she paused as she watched the soft smile on his lips fade. “I just got out of a pretty long term relationship, so I’m not really looking for anything serious,” she explained while tilting her head to the side. 

Cole’s smile slowly reappeared on his lips as he nodded, “Well, I heard you’re a regular at this place; so am I–so we should plan to just so happen to be here at the same time tomorrow. You can read that book and I can scroll through TikTok; and we can just be here at the same time but not together,” he explained slowly.

As he spoke, he watched the small smile widened on her lips. She shyly dropped her gaze towards her lap for only a few seconds before looking back up to meet his eye. “I’d like that,” she let out softly.

“I’ll be here at…” he trailed off. 

“Nine,” she finished his sentence. He nodded as he trailed her frame briefly as he leaned back in his chair for a moment.

“I’ll also be here at nine,” he said as he looked into her eyes as he stood up from the table, “I hope you enjoy your coffee,” he said while their eyes were still connected. 

“Thank you,” she said while shyly pursing her lips forward. He smirked as he walked away from the table as he made his way across the coffee shop.

Nick and Caitlin were looking towards him expectantly, both of them dumbfounded at the fact that he didn’t get her phone number. Slowly, he sat back down while keeping his gaze low. 

“Did you shoot and miss, what was that?” Nick asked teasingly while bringing his coffee towards his lips. Cole smirked as he brought his coffee to his lips, trying to hide the blush forming to his cheeks. 

“She just got out of a serious relationship,” he said simply. 

“Then why are you grinning?” Caitlin asked teasingly. Slowly, Cole spun his head around, meeting Y/N’s gaze again. She shyly dropped her gaze back towards the book in her hand.

“No reason,” Cole said quietly. “Anyways, how are you guys?” Cole asked with a grin still resting on his lips.

~~~

Cole was early, well as early as he could be to a not scheduled date with the gorgeous girl from across the coffee shop. He sat at the long table against the window of the coffee shop. He rested his phone down in front of him as he began scrolling through the hockey blog; writing a post about the Canadiens. He didn’t know why he was reading it, he knew the words would make him mad.

It didn’t take long for her to enter the coffee shop. Cole lifted his gaze up watching her walk into the coffee shop. He smirked as he lowered his gaze towards his phone again. She walked around him, leaning against the table. 

“Is it okay if I sit here?” she asked, somewhat jokingly. He lifted his gaze meeting here eye. He nodded while dragging his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Do you want to grab some coffee first?” he asked softly. Her eyes widened as she nodded. He stood up resting his bag onto the table, she followed in pursuit. Their eyes connected while they began to walk towards the register. 

The line was a few people deep, so they stood beside one another. At first it was awkward while they didn’t know where to start the conversation. She was not used to starting over with someone new and Cole hasn’t pursued someone like this in years. 

“How long have you been in Montreal?” Cole asked as he looked towards her, their eyes connecting in the process. 

“Moved here from Dallas about a month ago,” she explained quietly. 

“Why Montreal?” he asked softly while looking into her eyes. There was something about them that made his knees go weak.

“I’ve got a lot of family in the area, seemed like the perfect place to have a fresh start,” she explained as her gaze dipped towards the soft smile on his lips for only a second.

“It must have been a pretty bad relationship for you to move to a different country,” he questioned cautiously. She chuckled softly while dropping her gaze towards the floor.

“It wasn’t bad at all. Life happens that’s all,” she mumbled before looking back towards him. “What about you, any recent serious relationships?” she asked while tilting her head to the side. 

“Not really since I started playing for the Habs,” he explained quietly. She nodded while looking into eyes. “I was trying to get used to a new lifestyle and now that I’m used to it–”

“You’re ready for something new?” she asked teasingly. He nodded dramatically while biting his lower lip. She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re pretty popular here, I’m sure there’s a lot of volunteers,” 

“Well, I prefer the chase,” he said while tilting his head to the side. 

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” she nodded slowly. 

“I don’t mind waiting around,” he said while scanning her features as they walked up towards the counter. He held his hand towards her, allowing her to order first. A shy smile formed on her lips before she looked towards the barista who was taking the order of the person in front of them.

“Might be waiting around for a while,” she offered teasingly, looking into his eyes again. He fought off a smile as he tilted his head to the side. 

“That’s okay, you seem like someone worth waiting for,”

“You don’t know me,” she teased.

“Well let me get to know you,” he asked softly, taking a step towards her. A nervous laugh fell from her lips as she stepped up towards the register. She began to pull her wallet out. “Don’t even think about it,” he whispered towards her as he slowly pushed her hand back to her side.

Pressing her lips together, her body straightened as she kept her gaze ahead. Cole took a hold of his own wallet and pulled out his card. Fighting off a grin, she looked back towards the barista.

They ordered their drinks before they wandered back towards the seats the Cole claimed. “So I gotta ask,” Cole questioned as he waited for her to sit down. She hummed as a reply. Cole sat down beside her, “What do you mean by life happens?” 

A soft smile on her lips as she met his gaze. “We fell out of love, that’s all,” she mumbled as she scanned Cole’s features. “The spark disappeared and we never got it back. It was mutual,” she offered. 

~~~

It has been a month since they first met and today was the first time Cole was coming over. She was doing everything in her power not to start to fall for him. Cole never pressured her into anything, simply was great company; and a great flirt. 

She loved every moment with him, looking forward to her coffee not dates. His gaze was so intoxicating the way he scanned her features and the way their eyes could remain connected for hours. He was funny and charming and she was starting to fall for him; and she was starting to get tired of pretending she wasn’t.

There was a soft knock against her door and she stood up from the couch instantly. She took in a nervous breath as she began to walk towards the front door of her apartment. She stood up on her toes to look through the peephole. Her eyes widened as she saw Cole standing outside of her apartment. 

She pulled the door open, smiling towards him. She swung the door open and tilted her head to the side. “Hey there,” she offered teasingly.

“Hey,” he said with a smirk, “New location unlocked, I’m glad I’m leveling up in your book,” he teased as she stepped aside letting him inside.

“Don’t get too cocky now, I am easily spooked,” she offered as the door shut behind them. Cole kept his distance while chuckling. She pointed towards the collection of shoes neatly lined beside the door. He nodded as he quickly kicked his shoes off and made sure they were neatly rested.

“I’ll stay arm's length, I promise,” he offered while crossing his arms over his chest. Slowly, scanning her frame in the process.

“You don’t have to be so far away,” she expressed while walking backwards towards her living room. He grinned as he followed after her, without an ounce of hesitation. “The Cowboys game is on. Wanna watch?” she offered knowingly as she spun on her heel to meet his eye.

A gasp fell from his lips as he watched her flop down onto the couch. “Are they playing the Packers?” he asked with his eyes wide as he sat down in the center of the couch. She shook her head while looking into his eyes. He kept his arms crossed over his lap. “I will never be caught dead watching a Cowboys game,” he said while scanning her features.

“You are making me watch hockey and I can’t get you to watch the Cowboys,” she offered teasingly. Inching closer to her, he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Not the same thing,” he said simply as he rested his arm on top of the couch. 

“How is that not the same thing?” she muttered while laughing. 

“I play for the team and we’re not the Dallas Cowboys,” he explained teasingly. She scoffed while leaning towards him subconsciously.

“Yeah, the Cowboys are better,” she shot back. His mouth fell open as a cocky grin started to form on his lips.

“Now that was really mean,” he said simply. She smirked as she looked over his features. He was a lot closer than she thought, her gaze dropped towards his lips admiring the smile spread across his lips.

“Is it mean if it’s true?” she offered a knowing smirk on her lips. He shook his head slowly while tiilting his head to the side. Pursing his lips forward, he nodded slowly. His gaze dipped towards her lips, admiring the curve and the soft clear gloss.

“We’re getting better,” he defended while leaning back. “You would know if you watch them,” he offered as he forced his gaze straight ahead.

“I watch them,” she defended, “I just only pay attention to one player though,” she continued.

“Oh yeah, and who’s that?” he questioned while looking back towards her. 

“I can’t remember his name but he's really short,” she said teasingly with their eyes connected. “Thirteen, I think is his number–”

He pushed her delicately while letting out a laugh. “I’m not that short,” he muttered while looking into her eyes. “Everyone else is just freakishly tall,” 

“Really?” she shot back. He hummed while nodding his head. 

“Put on the damn game,” he muttered while wrapping his arm over her shoulder. He was half expecting her to scoot away or ask him to take his arm off of her but she leaned into him. His heart instantly began to slam against his chest. His breath caught in his throat as he began to trail his fingers down her arm.

She slowly put the game on, a gasp falling from her lips at the embarrassing score. “And you think they're better than us,” he whispered teasingly.

“Yeah, I think I’ll put on something else,” she whispered back, a soft laugh falling from his lips. He tilted his head to the side, admiring her side profile. “Any recommendations?” she questioned while turning her head to the side meeting his gaze.

Her heart jumped into her throat as her body erupted in goosebumps. “Anythings fine,” he mumbled as his gaze dipped towards her lips.

“Yeah?” she asked softly. He nodded slightly as he took a deep breath. Their lips were only an inch apart as he continued to admire her lips. He didn’t want to push her, and waited for her to make the first move. “Okay,”

“Okay?” he asked quietly. She nodded before she leaned towards him, kissing him urgently. Delicately he took a hold of her cheek, pulling her towards him. She hummed against his lips as their tongues instantly connected. Cole reached over, taking a hold of her thigh allowing her to climb onto his lap. 

His hands rested on the small of her back as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands rested on the base of his neck as she began kissing him slowly. Her hands ran into his hair as he roamed his hands along her frame.

“I don’t know if I wanna–” she trailed off as she mumbled against his lips. 

“That’s okay, I wasn’t expecting anything,” he mumbled back as their eyes connected. He raised his hand up and brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. “I wanna make sure you’re comfortable,” She nodded as she leaned towards him, kissing him again. 

[hockeyluvrr]

could you possibly write something cute and fluffy about cole caufield? plot entirely up to you! please :)

of course! thanks for requesting, sorry for the wait!

MASTERLIST

Eyes on You || cc13

word count: 1,099

not my gif!!

You weren’t really a hockey fan.

Well, you liked the idea of it, the energy, the fast pace, and the passion. But you’d never really followed it closely like your best friend did. Everything you knew about hockey was based on your best friend's ramblings when she dragged you to Montreal Canadiens games. It was because of these games that you first noticed Cole Caufield.

Or, more accurately, he noticed you.

It was subtle to start out with. You weren’t sure if you were imagining things when you caught him glancing at you from the bench one game. When you brought it up, your best friend laughed it off.

“Trust me, he’s not looking at us,” she teased you. “They’re professionals, hun. Locked in.”

But, game after game, you swore the quick glances became more intentional. One night, during warmups, you stood by the glass with your best friend, absentmindedly watching as players skated by while you chatted. Then, out of nowhere, a puck hit the boards in front of you.

You were snapped out of your conversation, blinking in surprise and looking straight up at the boyish grin of Cole.

Your best friend practically squealed beside you, “Oh my god, Y/N. Did he just…”

Another puck against the boards. You snapped your gaze back to him, heart fluttering as he gave you a quick wink before skating off like it was nothing.

You had no idea how to process it.

————

The real turning point happened about a week later. Your best friend had left you at the table in a bar downtown, going off to flirt with some guy she just met. You were fine nursing your drink alone, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly you sensed a presence behind you.

“Not a hockey fan, huh?”

Your head immediately snapped up. Cole was standing in front of you, casual in a hoodie and jeans, the same boyish grin from warmups playing on his lips.

You couldn’t function for a moment, your mouth opening and closing. “What?”

He chuckled, sliding onto the stool next to you. “I see you at the games. You never seem that into it.”

“So, you’ve been watching me enough to notice?”

His grin widened at your words. “Maybe.”

You weren’t entirely sure how the conversation between you both flowed so easily after that, but it did. It really did. You learned that he was just as charming off the ice as he was on it. He had this way of making you laugh, of pulling you into his world so effortlessly that you forgot that you barely knew him.

By the end of the night, you had his number.

————

Texting with Cole became second nature. He was almost relentless with his messages, whether it was sending you the most ridiculous memes at random hours or chirping you for not knowing basic hockey terms.

It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him.

But what truly sealed the deal was the night he personally invited you to one of his games, with a promise of meeting you afterwards.You weren’t sure what you expected, but as soon as you left your seat to go meet him in the players lounge, Cole beamed at you like you were the only person in the room.

“You actually came,” he said, slightly breathless.

“You only reminded me, like, twenty times.”

He grinned. “Did you at least enjoy the game?”

You hesitated for a few seconds, then admitted, “Yeah. I might be starting to understand why people follow this sport for life.”

His eyes practically lit up at your words, “Oh, I’m definitely taking credit for that.”

The night ended with him walking you to your car, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, eyes flickering over you in the dim streetlights.“So…” he said once you both reached your car, rocking back on his heels. “Are you gonna let me take you out, or do I have to keep throwing pucks at the glass to get your attention?”

Your stomach fluttered. “Hmm. That depends.”

“On?”

You grinned. “Are you always this cocky?”

He stepped closer, playfulness dancing in his expression. “Nah, just with you.”

And with that, you were hooked.

————

Dating Cole was fun. There was no other way to describe it.

He had this infectious energy, always finding new ways to make you laugh, whether it was sneaking terrible dad jokes into conversation or playfully teasing you.

But what surprised you most was how thoughtful he was.

He had learned your coffee order by heart. If you had a long day, he’d randomly show up at your place with takeout and a goofy grin. If you were sick, he’d bundle you up in a ridiculous amount of blankets and insist you hydrate by shoving a water bottle into your hands every five minutes.

One morning, you woke up to a text.

Cole: Did you eat breakfast?

You: No?

Cole: Rookie mistake. Check your doorstep.

Confused, you opened your apartment door only to find a bag of pastries and your favourite iced coffee sitting on the floor.

You immediately texted him.

You: Did you seriously just do a drive-by breakfast drop??

Cole: Yep. Elite boyfriend instincts.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through you.

————

The first time you realised that you were completely and hopelessly in love with Cole was during a lazy Sunday afternoon at his place.

You were sprawled across his couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, while he sat on the floor, messing around with his PlayStation.

Every so often he’d glance back at you, like he just wanted to make sure you were still there.

At one point, he let out a groan, tossing his controller aside. “Alright, I officially suck at this game.”

You bit back a smile. “Maybe you should stick to hockey.”

He turned, resting his chin on the couch beside you, his eyes locking onto yours. “Maybe,” he said softly, “or maybe you should help me.”

Your heart stuttered at the look in his eyes. He had that look that made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Without thinking, you reached out, brushing a hand through his messy hair.

“Yeah?” You murmured.

His lips curled into that boyish grin you loved so much. “Yeah.”

And just like that, he leaned up, closing the distance between you both.

It wasn’t your first kiss with him, but it was definitely the one that changed everything.

Because in that moment, you knew this wasn’t just fun anymore.

This was real.

[777bae]

SAFE IN HIS HANDS JURAJ SLAFKOVSKY

Summary :: Pregnancy is hard, but with Juraj by your side, it feels like you’re not doing it alone. From making breakfast to soothing your aches, his quiet love builds the foundation for the family you’re about to become.

Warnings :: pregnancy aches, kissing

Word count :: 6.7k

The first thing you feel when you wake up is warmth—Juraj’s body heat still lingering on the sheets beside you, even though he’s no longer there. It’s a fading warmth, the kind that tells you he must have left the bed not too long ago, but without him, the space beside you feels vast and empty. Your body, still heavy with sleep, reacts before your mind fully registers his absence. Your hand instinctively reaches out, fingers searching for the familiar solidness of him, but all you find is the cool fabric of his pillow.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you blink against the golden light spilling in through the curtains, painting the room in gentle hues of morning. The air is quiet, save for the distant sounds of life beginning in the rest of the house—the faint hum of the refrigerator, the occasional creak of the floorboards, the muffled clatter of dishes in the kitchen. You know without a doubt that it’s him, moving around with quiet purpose, already tending to you in ways he thinks you won’t notice.

You shift slightly beneath the covers, attempting to stretch out the stiffness lingering in your limbs, but even the smallest movement makes you acutely aware of the changes in your body. The weight of your growing belly settles heavily against you, pressing down in a way that wasn’t there just a few months ago. It’s strange, how even something as simple as rolling over now requires thought, effort. You pause for a moment, adjusting, breathing through the slight strain before settling into a more comfortable position.

And yet, despite the aches, despite the sluggishness, you wouldn’t change a thing. If anything, you revel in it. Every sensation—the tightness in your skin, the occasional discomfort, the deep stretch of muscles adjusting to something far greater than yourself—only serves as a reminder that your baby is growing. Thriving.

Your hand drifts down almost instinctively, fingers grazing over the gentle curve of your stomach, feeling the warmth of your own skin beneath your palm. The gesture is familiar now, something you catch yourself doing more and more often, as if your touch alone could remind the little life inside you that you’re here. That you love them. That you are waiting for them.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you imagine them, curled up safely within you, their tiny hands and feet tucked close. You wonder if they’re awake, if they can somehow sense your touch, if they know that their father was just here, that his hands have rested in the very same place more times than you can count.

Before you can dwell too long in thought, you hear it—the faint clatter of dishes, the hum of the refrigerator door opening and closing, the soft shuffle of Juraj’s feet against the hardwood floor. The sounds are gentle, careful, but unmistakable. You know them now, just as you know the warmth of his hands or the way his voice wraps around you like something solid and steady.

A slow smile tugs at your lips. He’s up early again. He always is these days.

You can’t remember the last time he truly slept in. Even on the rare mornings when he doesn’t have early practice, he’s the first to rise, moving around the house with as much quiet as someone his size can manage. You’ve woken up to the absence of his warmth enough times now to know that this has become his routine. That even before the sun has fully crept into the sky, before the weight of the day has settled over either of you, he is already thinking of you—of you and the life you carry.

The bedroom door creaks open a moment later, and there he is, standing in the doorway, his tall frame nearly filling the space. A tray is balanced carefully in his large hands, the soft glow of morning light catching against the edges of the dishes. He’s still in sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, the fabric clinging slightly to the broad planes of his chest. His hair is tousled, the strands falling haphazardly over his forehead, and you can tell just by looking at him that he didn’t bother fixing it before coming in. He got out of bed long enough to make sure you had breakfast before anything else.

His eyes find yours instantly, and the way his face softens when he sees you awake makes your breath catch. It’s subtle—the way his expression shifts, the way the corners of his mouth tug upward—but it’s unmistakable. A warmth spreads through his gaze, slow and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world just to look at you.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep, low and warm in a way that settles deep in your chest.

“Morning,” you murmur back, your voice groggy, your body still adjusting to the day.

He steps forward, careful, deliberate, like he doesn’t want to wake you too harshly. He crosses the room in just a few strides, moving with the quiet ease of someone who has done this a hundred times before. He sets the tray down on the nightstand, but before you can move, he’s already reaching for you.

His hands find you easily, familiar and sure, slipping behind your back as he helps you sit up. His touch is gentle but firm, his fingers pressing lightly against the tense muscles there, offering just enough support to make the movement easier. You sigh, leaning into him for a brief moment, and he lets you, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his breath close, the concern in his voice so instinctive, so natural, that you know he probably asks himself the same question even when you’re not around to hear it.

You nod, offering him a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Just needed a second.”

His brows furrow slightly, like he’s still assessing, still making sure, but after a moment, he nods and leans back slightly.

“I made you breakfast,” he says then, his voice lighter now, the hint of a proud grin tugging at the edges of his lips. He lifts the tray slightly, as if presenting his masterpiece. “I tried to make the eggs the way you like them.”

You glance at the tray—scrambled eggs, perfectly golden toast, a neat arrangement of fresh fruit, and a smoothie, the kind he knows is your favorite. You don’t miss the way the edges of the toast are cut just right, or how the smoothie is in the glass you always reach for first. Small details, maybe, but they don’t go unnoticed.

A laugh escapes you, quiet but full of affection. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, even though you already know exactly what his response will be.

As expected, his brows pull together, his expression shifting into something stubborn—something utterly convinced that the thought is ridiculous. “Of course, I did.”

And then, softer, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world:

“You’re carrying our baby.”

The words settle between you, heavy in a way that makes your chest tighten. His gaze drops, just for a moment, to the curve of your belly, his expression shifting from playful to something deeper. There’s an awe in his eyes, quiet but unshakable, like the simple fact of your existence like this—growing, glowing, holding something so precious—will never stop astounding him.

His fingers brush absently over your blanket, like he wants to reach for you, to feel you, but he hesitates. Not out of uncertainty, but reverence.

Then he lifts his gaze back to yours, tilting his head slightly. “You need to eat,” he says, like it’s non-negotiable.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real exasperation behind it. You pick up a piece of toast anyway, taking a bite, and the second you hum in satisfaction, you feel it—the way his shoulders relax slightly, the way his lips curve into a small, contented smile.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches you, his eyes lingering, his fingers tapping idly against the tray.

And in that quiet moment, as you chew slowly, as he sits beside you with nothing but warmth in his expression, you realize something:

This isn’t just about breakfast. It’s not just about making sure you eat.

It’s about you.

It’s about the way he wakes up before you, the way he moves through the house quietly so you don’t stir. It’s about the way he notices the smallest things—what foods you’re craving, what scents make you nauseous, which pillows help you sleep better. It’s about the way he watches over you, not because he thinks you can’t do things on your own, but because he wants to. Because he loves you. Because this—this life you’re building together—means everything to him.

You swallow, setting the toast down and reaching for his hand, threading your fingers through his. He looks down at your joined hands, then back up at you, his eyes questioning.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after a moment, his voice lower now, softer, with an edge of concern that you can hear even in the calm morning silence. His eyes are filled with an intensity that’s rare for him, an intensity only ever reserved for moments like this—when it’s just the two of you, and the world outside seems to slow down.

You sigh and settle back against the pillows, the weight of your body pressing down just a little more. “Tired. Sore. My back is killing me,” you admit, the words coming out in a slightly defeated tone, even though you don’t mean to sound like that.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t need to think twice. The moment you finish speaking, he’s already moving, setting the tray aside as though it’s not even important anymore. There’s only you and your discomfort now. He shifts closer, his body settling next to you, and without a word, his large hands find their way to your lower back. He doesn’t rush; his fingers are deliberate, pressing into the tight muscles there with careful precision.

The relief is almost immediate, the deep ache in your back slowly unwinding beneath his touch. You let out a quiet groan, feeling your body instinctively relax, your head falling back against the pillow. The tension, the tightness you’d been carrying all morning, starts to melt away, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. There’s only him, and the soothing rhythm of his hands working over you, the quiet intimacy of it all.

Juraj chuckles softly, his breath warm against your temple as he leans in to press a gentle kiss there, the brush of his lips tender and comforting. “Better?” he asks, his voice low, holding a softness that makes your chest tighten with affection.

You nod, exhaling deeply, your body sinking further into the comfort of his touch. “Much,” you murmur, closing your eyes briefly to savor the feeling of his hands working over you.

His fingers don’t stop; they continue their slow, deliberate circles into your lower back, the pressure firm but never too much, just enough to chase away the tightness that had been plaguing you. You can tell by the way his hands move that he’s paying attention to every shift in your body, every little sign that you need more or less pressure. His touch is careful, not just because you’re carrying his child, but because he knows you. Knows what makes you feel better, knows how to soothe you when you’re tense, even when you don’t have to say a word.

As his hands continue, you find yourself losing track of time. You let your body surrender to him, sinking into the comfort of his presence. There’s something about the way he’s here with you, so steady, so reliable, that makes everything feel just a little bit easier. In this moment, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“You really okay?” he murmurs against your temple, his breath soft on your skin, so close now that his words feel like a part of you.

You nod, though the weight of it all lingers just a little. “Yeah. Just… everything feels so heavy lately.” The words escape before you can stop them, a soft admission of the way the changes in your body are beginning to feel overwhelming. But even as you speak them, you don’t feel vulnerable. With him, it’s always okay to be honest about the discomfort, the uncertainty, the quiet struggles you don’t always voice.

He pauses for a second, his hands stilling against your back. You can feel the shift in his energy as he processes your words, and then his arm shifts, sliding over your shoulders with ease. He pulls you closer, his body pressing lightly against yours as he envelops you in his warmth. You feel the steady beat of his heart, the solid rhythm that makes you feel safe, and he traces lazy, absentminded patterns along your arm, his fingers barely skimming your skin.

It’s a touch that feels like a promise, like reassurance. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know he’s there. He’s always there. Always paying attention.

“You want to lie down for a bit?” he offers, his voice gentle, considering. He glances over at the untouched food on the tray, eyes soft with understanding. “I can bring this back later. Or make you something else if you don’t feel like eating this.” There’s no pressure in his voice, just an open offer, a simple willingness to make sure you’re comfortable, whatever that means in the moment.

You shake your head, managing a small smile. “No, I promise this is perfect,” you say, though there’s a tiny part of you that wants to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to keep doing so much. But you know it’s no use. You already know he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d insist, just like he always does.

“You don’t have to keep fussing over me, you know,” you add softly, a playful edge in your voice, though there’s no real attempt to push him away.

He scoffs, the sound light and teasing, but there’s a warmth in it that makes you smile. He always knows how to make you feel loved, even in the simplest of ways. “Yes, I do.” His lips curl upward, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but there’s a deep sincerity in his eyes. “It’s my job.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Your job is to play hockey.”

He chuckles at that, but his expression softens, and without warning, he reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a small but tender gesture. “My job is to take care of you.”

The words hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. They land like a soft weight in your chest, heavier than you expect, and the simple sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. He doesn’t say it with any dramatic flair or grand gesture. It’s just a quiet truth, a reminder of how much he cares for you, how deeply he is here—really here—with you, in this life you’re creating together.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, taken aback by the quiet weight of his words, by the depth of love that they carry. The room feels a little quieter, a little warmer as you stare up at him, searching for the right thing to say.

You reach for his hand then, intertwining your fingers with his, the touch grounding you, reminding you of the shared bond between you. “You already do,” you say softly, your voice a gentle affirmation of everything he’s been to you, everything he’s done for you. “Every single day.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly, like he needed to hear that. The relief that passes through him is subtle, but you see it in the way his body seems to settle more fully beside you. You feel his thumb move in small, reassuring circles against your skin, and for a moment, the world outside fades. It’s just the two of you—here, together, steady and sure.

He exhales again, and his grip on your hand tightens just a little, as though holding on to this quiet moment, this connection. His eyes soften even more as he looks at you, the deep adoration in them unmistakable. You both stay like that for a while, the silence between you comfortable and full of understanding, a silent conversation in the space you’ve created.

A few moments of quiet stretch between you, the two of you comfortably nestled in the peaceful stillness of the morning. You could hear the soft hum of the house—the quiet creak of the floorboards beneath his steps as he moves around, the faint sound of the outside world beyond the windows. But then, his voice breaks the calm, filled with the warmth and playful curiosity that you’ve come to love.

“Hey, you know what might help?” he asks, his eyes twinkling as he glances at you.

You raise an eyebrow, your tired eyes meeting his. “Please don’t say ice baths,” you joke, though you can’t help but feel a little wary at the thought.

He laughs, the deep sound rumbling in his chest. He shakes his head, his face lighting up with that familiar, comforting warmth that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world. “No, no. A bath, though. A warm one. I can set it up for you.”

You let out a breath of relief, but then, the temptation of his suggestion tugs at you. The ache in your back and the heaviness in your feet have become constant companions, and the idea of sinking into warm water feels like the escape you didn’t even know you needed. It’s an idea that’s both simple and indulgent in the best way possible. You hesitated for only a second, but then a thought bubbles up.

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of concern slipping into your voice. You glance over at him, aware that he has practice later, and you don’t want him to take on too much. “You have practice later. You don’t have to—”

But he’s already moving, shaking his head with a reassuring smile. “I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says, his voice firm in that way he has when he’s made up his mind. There’s no room for arguing, and truthfully, you don’t even want to. He’s already started walking toward the bathroom, his footsteps soft but purposeful, the sound of the door creaking open a moment later.

Before you can say anything else, you hear the sound of water running—steady, rhythmic—and the soft shuffle of him moving around the bathroom. You picture him, lighting candles with his usual care, perhaps picking out the perfect bath salts or adding a few bubbles to the water, making everything just right. It’s like he’s curating a little moment of peace for you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell. You know he’s not just doing this out of obligation—he’s doing it because he loves you, because he wants to take care of you in ways that go beyond the obvious. He’s always been like this: attentive in the smallest, most thoughtful ways that somehow manage to make all the difference.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the quiet sounds of him moving around, the soft rustle of fabric as he prepares the bath. You don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he became your rock, your constant source of care, even in the most simple of moments. It’s never in grand gestures—it’s in the way he listens when you speak, in the way he anticipates your needs before you even voice them. It’s in the little things: the way he makes you breakfast, or rubs your back when you’re sore, or takes the time to prepare something as tender as a warm bath when he knows you need it.

By the time he returns to the bedroom, his face is practically glowing with excitement, like he’s just crafted the perfect game plan and he’s eager to see you enjoy it. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that catches you off guard for a moment—his usual quiet intensity turned into something playful, something entirely focused on you. He’s carrying the weight of a joy he finds in making you comfortable.

“Okay, it’s ready. Come on,” he says, his voice carrying a sense of accomplishment, as if the bath is a personal victory he’s eager for you to experience.

You can’t help but smile, your own exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the face of his unshakable enthusiasm. You make a move to sit up, but immediately, Juraj is there. He doesn’t hesitate for a second. His hands, large and strong, come to rest on your waist, steadying you with an ease that always feels both protective and intimate. His fingers press lightly against the curve of your sides as he gently helps you rise, careful not to disturb your comfort too quickly.

You can’t help but laugh softly at the way he’s handling it all. “You act like I’m made of glass,” you tease, feeling the soft weight of the moment, a soft playfulness easing some of the discomfort in your body.

He grins, but there’s something deeper in his eyes as he looks at you, something tender. “Not glass,” he corrects, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to send a shiver of warmth through your chest. “Just carrying something pretty damn important.”

Your heart swells in your chest, a rush of love filling you so completely that it feels like it could spill over. It’s not just his words, but the quiet sincerity with which he says them. It’s the way he’s here, entirely with you, not just physically, but in the way he holds your heart, your growing family, and everything in between.

He leads you gently toward the bathroom, and as you step inside, the transformation of the space takes you by surprise. The room is bathed in soft, golden light from the flickering candles he’s carefully placed around the tub. The scent of lavender fills the air, soothing and fragrant, curling around you like a soft embrace. Steam rises gently from the water, which is a warm, inviting hue—perfectly set to relax every muscle in your body. The air itself feels thick with tranquility, with a kind of calm that instantly soothes your senses.

You take a slow, appreciative breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders melt away the second you step into the space. This, this is exactly what you needed. And it’s just another thing he’s done to make sure you feel cared for—making everything just perfect. You can’t help but marvel at how in tune he is with your needs, even the ones you don’t have to say aloud.

When Juraj helps you over to the tub, he’s careful, like always, steadying you, his hands warm on your skin. You look up at him and see nothing but love in his eyes, soft and steady, as if you’re the most important thing in the world.

The warm water envelops you as soon as you sink deeper into the bath, wrapping you in a comforting embrace that seems to melt away all the tension you’ve been carrying. You let out a soft sigh, your body gradually unwinding as the heat seeps into every muscle, soothing each ache, and making the world outside this small space seem so far away. The scent of lavender fills the air, delicate and calming, its fragrance mingling with the quiet sound of the water lapping gently at the edges of the tub. The flickering light from the candles Juraj must have carefully placed around the room dances in the soft steam that rises from the bath, casting a golden glow that feels like something out of a dream—a peaceful, quiet cocoon where nothing can disturb you.

You sink lower into the water, letting it completely envelop you, your arms resting gently on the edge of the tub as you close your eyes. The softness of the moment settles over you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself truly relax. The stress of the day, of the aches in your body, of everything swirling around in your mind, fades into the background, replaced by the soothing warmth of the bath and the comforting presence of Juraj beside you.

His tall frame is leaned slightly forward, one knee resting on the floor while his arms drape casually over the edge of the tub. His gaze never leaves you, his eyes steady and watchful, a quiet satisfaction settling into his features like he’s just accomplished something monumental. There’s no rush in his movements, no need to hurry or pull away. He seems to take his time with you, as if savoring each moment of peace, of quiet connection. And though his expression is soft, there’s an intensity in the way he looks at you—something that feels almost reverent. It’s as if you’ve become his world in that instant, and every moment spent with you is something precious to him.

“How does it feel?” he asks after a moment, his voice soft and warm, like he’s asking about something far more important than just the bath. He genuinely wants to know, to make sure you’re comfortable, to make sure you’re feeling okay.

You hum in approval, your body melting deeper into the warm water as you smile, your eyes fluttering shut in contentment. “Perfect. Exactly what I needed,” you murmur, your voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly might break the tranquility of the moment.

Juraj watches you for a few beats, his gaze never wavering, as if taking in the simple sight of you—soaked in the soft glow of candlelight, surrounded by the scent of lavender, and resting in the calm of the moment. He reaches out, his large hands gentle, his fingers skimming the surface of the water in slow, absentminded circles. A ripple follows the path of his touch, the water shimmering with movement, and his fingers dip lower, cupping a handful of warm water. With a careful, almost reverent touch, he pours it over your shoulder, letting it trickle down your skin in a soft cascade, as if to help the warmth of the bath do its work on your body. The sensation of the water against your skin is so soothing that you can’t help but sigh, your muscles loosening further, the tension slowly melting away.

He does it again, this time over your arm, his touch light but deliberate, as if trying to ease away every last trace of the weight you’ve been carrying. You let him, closing your eyes for a moment and surrendering fully to the peace he’s creating for you.

His voice breaks the silence, soft but teasing, pulling you back from the depth of your thoughts. “You don’t have to stay here, you know,” you murmur, though your words are more of an invitation than a suggestion. The truth is, you don’t want him to leave. You want him here, next to you, in this quiet, intimate space.

He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling into a playful smirk. “You trying to get rid of me?” His tone is light, but there’s a touch of something more behind it—an almost amused curiosity that makes you smile despite yourself.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No,” you admit with a grin, “just saying. You probably have better things to do.”

You know he’s busy. You know he’s got his own commitments, his own routines. But in this moment, there’s a small part of you that feels selfish, wanting to keep him here with you, wanting to hold on to this sense of calm for just a little longer.

He scoffs, as if the very idea of leaving you to your own devices is absurd. “Like what?” he asks, his voice laced with mock incredulity, and there’s a warmth in his eyes as he meets your gaze.

You arch a brow, matching his teasing tone. “I don’t know. Hockey? Working out? Watching replays?”

His expression changes instantly, though, softening into something more serious, something deeper. He doesn’t respond right away; instead, he reaches out, his fingers brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch is so tender, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer than usual. Then, his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “This is more important,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. His words are not dismissive or flippant—they carry weight, a kind of sincerity that makes your heart skip a beat.

Something in your chest tightens, and for a moment, the world outside this bathroom seems to disappear completely. There’s no arguing, no words needed to fill the silence. You simply look at him, and he looks at you, and for that fleeting moment, there’s nothing else. His eyes are so open, so unguarded, and the way he says it—like he truly believes it—takes you by surprise. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see in him, yet in this moment, it feels like he’s giving you a glimpse into a part of him that is only ever shared with you.

His gaze is steady, unwavering, and you realize that there’s no doubt in his mind—there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here, in this quiet, intimate space with you. His presence is the grounding force you didn’t even know you needed, and in the simplicity of this moment, you can’t help but feel completely and utterly cherished.

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his, feeling the roughness of his calloused palm against your softer skin. “You’re going to be such a good dad.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, there’s a brief, stillness between you, a sudden quiet that feels like the world pausing just to catch its breath. Juraj’s grip tightens for a split second, just long enough for you to feel the weight of his fingers around yours, grounding him in the enormity of the moment. His chest rises and falls with a breath that sounds almost like a quiet hitch, his hand holding yours as if it might anchor him to the present, to this very moment where you’ve shared something so deeply vulnerable.

His eyes flick down to your hand, his thumb tracing over your knuckles in slow, thoughtful movements. The touch is gentle, but there’s a sense of intensity to it, like he’s trying to find the right words, trying to find his place in all this. Finally, after a pause that seems to stretch on just a bit longer than usual, he looks up at you, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles—a smile that’s soft and vulnerable, unlike anything you’ve seen before.

“You think so?” His voice is barely above a whisper, a question that carries more weight than just those two words. It’s a question laced with doubt, with hope, with a quiet desire to be enough, to be worthy of the future he’s already dreaming about.

You nod, your fingers tightening around his in reassurance. “I know so.” The certainty in your voice is unwavering, the words steady and sure as you meet his gaze. He needs to hear it—he needs to know that you believe in him, that you believe in everything he already is, and everything he’s going to be. He’s going to be such a good dad.

For a few moments, he doesn’t speak, just watches your hand in his, his thumb absently tracing the lines of your fingers like he’s memorizing every curve, every dip. There’s a quiet sort of reverence in his movements, as if he’s in awe of the simple fact that you two are about to embark on this journey together. And then, his voice comes, softer now, almost lost beneath the soft sound of the water lapping against the edges of the tub.

“I just want to do it right.” The words are quiet but heavy, and there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in them—like he’s baring his soul, letting you see the weight of his heart laid bare.

Your heart aches at that, but not with sadness—no, it’s a love so full, so overwhelming that it feels like it might burst. You want to reach out and hold him, to reassure him that he doesn’t need to carry all this responsibility alone. But instead, you gently squeeze his hand, your voice soft but firm when you answer.

“You already are.” You speak from your heart, your words simple but true. “You take care of me every day. You love us. That’s all our baby is ever going to need.”

There’s a brief silence, a moment where the only sound is the faint hum of the bathroom, the steam rising around you both. You can feel his shoulders relax, the tension melting away, as if your words have given him the peace he didn’t know he needed. His hand moves from yours, but only to gently rest on your belly, his touch careful, almost hesitant at first, like he’s afraid of disturbing something precious. But when he feels it—the soft, steady flutter of the baby’s movements beneath his palm—his entire expression shifts. The small, tender smile that spreads across his face is like the sun breaking through a cloud, and you can see the wonder in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the moment is sacred.

You laugh softly, a small chuckle that escapes before you can contain it, and place your hand over his. “Of course I felt it. I feel it all the time.” You meet his eyes with a smile, and there’s a knowing in your gaze—this tiny life is already part of both of you, and you can already see how deeply it has begun to change him.

His fingers spread across your belly, like he’s trying to cover every inch of it, like he doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this. He leans down, lowering his face until his lips are just above the waterline, his breath warm against your skin. “Hey, little one,” he murmurs, his voice deep and gentle, like he’s speaking to someone already listening, already aware. There’s a strength in his tone, but it’s a quiet strength, one that’s wrapped in tenderness and protectiveness. “You’re giving your mama a hard time, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully, though your heart swells with love for him and the little one already growing inside you. “Tell me about it.”

Juraj chuckles softly, his breath warm against your skin as he stays there for a moment longer, his forehead resting gently against your belly. His hand never moves, continuing to rest in the same spot, as if he’s waiting for another movement, another sign that this tiny person is listening to him, responding to him. It’s such a simple, intimate thing—but in that moment, as he stays there with his forehead resting against you, you realize how much of him is already poured into this new life. This big, strong man—someone who fights battles on the ice, who faces tough opponents with a strength that could move mountains—is utterly undone by the tiny, fragile life inside you. It’s a side of him you’ve seen in glimpses before, but in this moment, it’s undeniable. He’s already a father in everything but name.

Eventually, he leans back, but his hand doesn’t leave your belly. His thumb continues to move in slow, soothing circles, a gesture that’s become as familiar as his touch on your hand. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he says, his voice filled with such quiet awe that it makes your throat tighten. There’s an unspoken promise in his words—I will love them, just like I love you—and it wraps around your heart like a soft blanket.

You swallow past the lump in your throat, nodding as your chest swells with emotion. “Me too.” Your voice is barely a whisper, thick with the weight of everything you’re feeling.

Juraj glances up at you, his eyes softened by something deeper than just affection—there’s a tenderness there, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. His gaze lingers on you for a heartbeat longer than usual, like he’s soaking in the moment, imprinting it on his soul. And then, without saying a word, he leans down. His lips find yours with a quiet intensity, a kiss that feels like it’s full of years of shared moments, of challenges overcome, of love built layer by layer. It’s not rushed, not hungry like so many kisses once were, but slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring this connection between you both.

The kiss speaks volumes. It speaks of the life you’ve created together—of the highs, the lows, and the everyday, mundane moments that have formed the foundation of your love. It carries the weight of shared dreams and quiet promises for the future. And as his lips linger against yours, you feel a tenderness that surpasses any grand gesture, a quiet kind of devotion that only comes from the deepest parts of the heart.

When he finally pulls away, there’s a moment of perfect stillness between you, as if time has paused just for the two of you. His forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin, mingling with yours as the two of you share the same air, the same space, your hearts in sync. The sound of the water continues its gentle lapping against the edges of the tub, but it feels distant now, as if the world outside of this moment has fallen away.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, the words wrapped in layers of tenderness that make your heart ache. “Both of you.”

You blink, the weight of those words settling over you like a soft, comforting blanket. Something inside you shifts at the realization—both of you. You are no longer just two people. You are a family. And as his words settle into your chest, the floodgates open, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. For a moment, you fight them, but only for a moment, because in this sacred space, in this intimacy between the two of you, there’s no need for masks. No need to hold it all together. You let the tears fall freely, letting them trace the contours of your cheeks as the emotions of this moment overwhelm you.

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw sincerity, has unlocked something in you—something that’s been quietly building inside you, something you didn’t even realize was there until now. You wipe the tears from your face, but you don’t try to hide them, because they are a reflection of everything you’re feeling. You’re not ashamed of them, not embarrassed. These tears are love, pure and simple.

“We love you too,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion, barely more than a breath, but it carries every ounce of everything you’re feeling right now.

His thumb brushes gently over your cheek, a small but profound gesture, as if he’s trying to wipe away the tears, but you both know they’re not tears of sadness—they’re tears of love, of an overwhelming gratitude that you can’t express with words. They’re tears that come from the realization that, despite everything—despite the uncertainty, the changes, the challenges—you’ve built something unbreakable together. You’ve created a family. And in this moment, everything feels right.

Juraj pulls you closer then, his arms wrapping around you with a strength that feels like home, a protection that only he can provide. His hands cradle you gently, but with such a quiet force, like he’s holding not just you, but everything you’ve created. The baby. The future. The life ahead.

And as you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, you know without a shadow of a doubt that this is home. This is where you belong. There’s a peace in your soul that you’ve never known before, a certainty that no matter what comes, you will face it together.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

the order of which this series will be written has not yet been decided. this series is currently on hold. Trust me I love this series and I plan to come back to it and finish. But this is a very very HEAVY series to write if do it properly and I don’t half ase any of my writing on my blog. That being said, currently I don’t think I am not mentally in the current headspace to do give it justice. Give me some time, but I promise I will finish it. 💜

Is today a dark day? - Cole Caufield (depression)

For the first time since you started dating Cole, your depression seems to be coming back to kick you in the ass. Scared of how Cole will react, you do the only logical thing and pull away.

Quinn Hughes (ADHD)

Can you tell me what hurts? - John Marino (PCOS)

Always struggling with having a abnormal menstrual cycle, and doctors not seeming to care. It sort of became the norm for you to just not really know what's going on with your body. After meeting John, you were worried if he would get scared with how sick you really got so often and run. Or would he be the one to stick around and try to help you figure out what's wrong?

Jack Hughes (OCD) (requested)

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras (Dyslexia)

In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Why do you think that? - Nico Hischier (Body Dysmorphia)

Y/N was happy with Nico, he made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. But what happens when an old friend of Y/N visits and they start looking back on old pictures. Or how does Nico handle Y/N pushing away when her body dysmorphia seems to finally catch up to her after so long of it being pushed to the back of her mind.

Brock Boeser (Anxiety)

Matthew Tkachuk (PTSD)

Luke Hughes (Binge Eating) (requested)

Auston Matthews (Anemia) (requested)

Borderline Personality Disorder (player undecided) (requested)

I am open to the idea of adding players and different disorders or health issues to this list if you have any ideas please send in an ask.

[swissboyhisch]

The Best Kinda Night

Pairing: Arber Xhekaj x Reader

Summary: Your first time watching Arber play and you get to see the rough side of his job.

Word Count: 1574

Warnings: fighting, mentions of sex related things

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Since meeting Arber at a club after a game one night, the two of you hit it off. The two of you spent the whole night on the dance floor together. Maybe getting a little too handsy in public. After a couple too many drinks, you found yourself waking up in his bed. Arber woke up while you were getting dressed once more, phone held between your shoulder and ear. He protested you leaving and asked you to breakfast. Citing that he was wanting more than a one night stand with such a pretty person.

It had been months since you had had your first date and you were yet to go watch Arber play. Until tonight that is. Tonight he had a game against Arizona at home and you had a glass side ticket. You pulled out the pair of jeans, hoodie and jersey you planned on wearing before jumping into the shower. After spending the afternoon pampering, you made sure you were ready early so you could leave for the stadium and take in the journey.

What he didn’t tell you was that Caitlin, the captain’s girlfriend, would be meeting you at the stadium and sitting next to you so you weren’t alone. Not that it would have bothered you. But he wanted you to have a friend within the team because he knew you were going to be around for a while.

“Hi! You’re Wi-Fi’s girlfriend, yeah?” A blonde greeted you a couple moments after you stepped into the club bar area.

“Uh hi?” You and Arber weren’t public yet so you were very confused as to why she asked you this. She was dressed similarly to you but wearing a jersey with a C patch. Suzuki if you’re correct. “Sorry, who are you?”

The girl smiles, “I’m Caitlin, Nick’s girlfriend. Arber thought it would be a good idea you weren’t sitting by yourself.”

“Oh, that’s exciting. Thanks for agreeing.”

The two of you grabbed a drink from the bar before taking a seat. There was still half an hour until the teams took to the ice for warm-ups. You got to know Caitlin while you two bonded over the drinks. The blonde even introduced you to a couple of the other girls who walked by on their way to their seats.

“Let’s go find our seats. We’re against the glass,” Caitlin suggests when you both had finished your drinks.

Following others through the stadium halls, you find your section and descend the stairs. You made sure to take pictures of everything. Taking in all the bright lights and experience. The two of you were at a perfect spot. Across from the bench and near the penalty box. Or as you like to call it, the sin bin.

“When did you and Arber meet?” The blonde asks.

“Uh, a year ago? Dating for about 7 months.”

“He’s kept you hidden from us!”

You chuckle at the girl’s reaction. “Yeah, we just wanted to get settled and comfortable in our relationship before telling everyone.”

The two of you got to know each other while waiting for the teams to take to the ice for pregame warm ups. At least the chairs were comfier than other stadiums you have been to in the past. You glanced around at the fans around you. People watching. A few Arber jerseys stood out to you. Some Caufield and Suzuki jerseys as well.

“Here they come,” Caitlin spoke up, pointing to the tunnel.

One by one the boys stepped onto the ice and did their laps. Arber came out and skated around, looking around at the fans. He spotted a fan sign with his name on it being held up by a boy no older than 6. Watching the fan interaction was one of the best parts. Arber played paper, scissors, rock with the kid before flicking a puck over the glass and posing for a picture.

“Look who’s skating this way,” Caitlin teases as she waves to Nick standing in front of the girls.

Arber skated towards Nick and bumped him. He then turned his attention to you. The Canadian boy had the biggest smile as he waved like a kid to you. Just like he did for the little boy, he waved the puck then tossed it over the glass. You caught the cold rubber and posed for a picture that Caitlin was more than happy to take for you. Before he skated away to continue warm ups, he put his into a fist as best as he could and put it against the glass. You copied his actions and did a fist bump through the glass.

The fist bump started when you two first started dating. You had always fist bumped your best friend as a goodbye since they weren’t the hugging type. With Arber, the first time you did it was when you were both laying on the couch after your second date. Both of you were to shy to cuddle at the time. But you randomly held out your fist to him. From there it’s a daily occurrence. When it came to games, it fitted into the pregame ritual. He would kiss you goodbye then a fist bump on the way out.

“I like the jersey,” He yelled before giving you a smirk and skating off with his captain to join Caufield not far away.

“He’s so in love with you,” Caitlin pointed out. “I’ve never seen him smile that much. That wide!”

Warm ups went quicker than you’d like and next thing you know the teams skate off again. Now the wait between warm ups and the start of the game. Caitlin grabbed a silver sharpie from her bag and thrusted it towards you.

“You have to write on the puck the date and first Canadiens game.”

You agreed and wrote it on the back of the puck. One to start a collection. Or add to Arber’s puck collection when you moved in together.

The game started and was going smoothly. Kinda. There was some tension building and by the 2nd period you could see that Kassian was aiming at Arber. Wanting to drop the gloves. It wasn’t until a checking incident that Arber decided he had had enough.

“Here we go,” You smirk as Arber and the Arizona player threw their gloves off and grabbed each other. As someone with combat sport training, a fight was entertaining. “Arber’s got this one.”

Kassian’s first punch knocked off Arber’s helmet but he was sure to retaliate with multiple blows, one after the other in quick succession. The Coyotes player dropped to his knees pretty quick, allowing Arber to get some good hits in. Kassian managed to stand up again but didn’t stay on his feet for long. With the coyotes’ jersey in his grasp, Arber took him to the ground. He threw one last punch before the refs managed to pull him off. You watched as your boyfriend smirked at the sight of the player on the ice before skating to the penalty box. He even waved his arms to hype up the crowd who were all cheering by. He looked towards you, a smirk on his face as he chewed on his mouthguard.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter, turned on more than you’d admit to anyone.

“Keep it in your pants,” Caitlin laughs after she hears your muttering.

Arber took his seat in the sin bin and side glanced at you. Another smirk appeared when he noticed the look on your face. He winked at you before turning back to the game.

“Welp I’m gonna have to buy new lingerie after tonight,” You joke (slightly) to Caitlin.

She laughed, understanding the feeling, “it’s the best kinda night after a good, tense game.”

The pair of you laugh before turning back to the game that was playing. The game soon came to an end with a win for the home team. Caitlin showed you down to the family room where people waited for the players to finish changing and the media tasks.

“I’ll introduce you to some of the other girls if you want?”

You shrug, “Sure why not.”

The captain’s partner took you around, introducing you to the older players’ partners. Meeting their kids who were running around the room as well. It definitely filled the waiting time because you feel arms wrap around your waist as you talked to Caitlin and Kirby Dach’s girlfriend.

“Hey,” you grin, turning to see a freshly showered Arber.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. You could see in his eyes what he was thinking about. “Hey baby.”

“I can’t believe you hid her from us!”

“Sorry girls,” he chuckles. “You’ll have her around more but I’m gonna steal her now.”

Caitlin smirks, “don’t break any furniture.”

You blushed but Arber smirked and dragged you away and out of the arena. When you reached his car, he pushed you against the door.

“God you look so good wearing my name on your back.”

You tangle your fingers in his damp hair. Pulling him closer. “Showing everyone who I’m with.”

That snapped the tension. Arber ducked his head and kissed you roughly. He hand slid up your back and cupped the back of your hand from hitting it on the car.

“Let’s take this to yours shall we?”

Arber grinned as he opened the passenger side door for you, “you’re in for a long night baby.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens @cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Decorations | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 1.3k

You offer to help Juraj decorate his apartment for Christmas

Juraj had been jumping from place to place ever since he had come to Montreal. He didn’t mean to, he should have planned better in hindsight, but his rookie season had come as a whirlwind followed by a particularly cursed season and that was the only thing that seemed to kick his butt into gear. 

He moved into a decent apartment during the off season, a one bedroom with a spacious living room and kitchen that he already felt like he didn’t spend enough time in during the hockey season. He tried his best to decorate, get some comfy furniture and put up family photos but he eventually gave up. 

Well, until he met you. 

You had been living in your apartment for two years now and still had not finished decorating. For some reason, you were changing the theme of your space constantly, something that drove your family mad whenever they visited. 

You loved to decorate. From your car to your kitchen every space you spent a long time in had to be decorated to the nines. You knew that you’d be worse off staring at blank walls and zero color surrounding you for hours on end. You loved the inspiration that came to you when you walked into a room and immediately came up with a vision for what the space could look like. You liked flexing that creative muscle in any way shape or form that you could. 

You were hauling up some particularly interesting rolls of patterned wallpaper when you met Juraj. You hadn’t seen him in the building before and he offered you a soft smile as you waited for the elevator. 

“Would you like some help?” he asks, gesturing to the four rolls of heavy wallpaper leaning against you. 

“Uh yes actually please,” you say. 

Juraj is quick to grab three of the rolls of wallpaper even though you insist you can handle at least two and help you haul them into the elevator. 

“Did you just move in?” he asks and you shake your head, trying to meet the eyes of the taller boy. Your head tilts back and you start to size him up, figuring he has to be at least six foot and definitely works out somewhat regularly with how easy he carries your items. 

“Ah no,” you admit sheepishly. “Just decorating again.” 

Juraj hums at this and when the elevator dings for your floor he lets you out first and then follows you to your door. You dig your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door before shouldering your way inside. You instantly drop the first set of wallpaper rolls on the ground near your door before pushing it farther open and helping Juraj inside. 

“Woah,” you hear him mutter when he sees your apartment decked out in color from head to toe. No wonder you seemed shy when he asked if you had just moved in. It looked like you had lived here for your whole life with the way the place was so personally decorated. 

He places the wallpaper down on the ground, propping it against the hallway wall and continues his perusal of your apartment. He notices the couch is the only thing that seems worn and out of place in the whole apartment so far. It’s black with the leather worn and faded in places. 

“Thank you again,” you say and when you trail off Juraj suddenly realizes you’re waiting for his name. 

“Juraj,” he says, his accent tickling your ears in a way that makes your body involuntarily shiver. 

“(y/n).” 

After that first encounter, you happened to run into Juraj occasionally. It turns out he lived on the same floor as you, moved in during the summer, and that he was a hockey player for the Montreal Canadiens. Your conversations had seemed to only last the duration of an elevator ride or a quick pause in the hallway but you had been dying for more ever since you met the young man. 

“Hold the elevator!” you called out, rushing forward with several bags on your arms and a string of lights falling off your neck. 

“Woah,” Juraj lets out when he sees you enter the elevator in a huff. 

“Oh, hi,” you greet, cheeks growing hot at the sight of him. 

“Decorating again?”

“Just for Christmas,” you explain and Juraj nods slowly. 

“I don’t think I’m going to decorate this year,” he admits to you quietly and your face morphs into a frown, one that Juraj realizes tugs at his heart when he sees it. 

“My family hasn’t been able to make it here for the holidays yet and I haven’t had time to go home during Christmas either,” he explains and you nod in understanding. 

The elevator dings at the arrival of your apartment floor and Juraj quietly grabs a couple of bags off your arm before gesturing for you to exit the elevator first. You start to walk towards your apartment but veer in the other direction and head towards Juraj’s instead. 

“Uh, (y/n)?” Juraj calls out behind you but you don’t stop until you’re in front of his apartment door. 

“Come on,” you say and Juraj’s face is full of confusion as he approaches you. 

“We’re decorating your apartment.” 

“No you don’t have to,” he begins but you shake your head. 

“Everyone deserves a bit of the Christmas magic around them at this time of year. Now open the door or I will pick the lock myself.” 

Your declaration is so serious on your face Juraj can’t help but believe you. Through the shuffle of multiple bags he digs out his key and lets the two of you into the apartment. You had seen the inside of his apartment maybe twice since you had met Juraj and both times it looked the exact same as it did now. 

Juraj once explained to you that he spent more time in an ice rink than in his own apartment and that decorating felt like a waste to him at some point. Why spend time and money on a place that he was never in? You made a mental note to give him some decorations for Christmas so the place could look a bit more like he lived there at least before continuing into his space. 

“Okay I say we start with hanging up lights throughout the living room and then add a stocking or two on your mantle and then,”

“You don’t have to do this,” Juraj reminds you, catching your arm in his grasp and you don’t miss the way your skin tingles at his touch. 

“I want to,” you remind him and his smile lights up his face. 

The two of you spend the next two hours decorating his place from head to toe. You went through all the bags of stuff you bought for your place and even made a trip or two out to your apartment to grab a couple of special items to really make the place pop. By the end, it looked like the north pole had thrown up in Juraj’s apartment and you loved every bit of it. 

Christmas lights were hung up strategically around the living room, ribbon tied around his kitchen cabinets to make it look like a present with a bow on it, stocking on the mantle of his living room, and a plastic mini tree sat on his kitchen table, an old decoration from your childhood home. 

“Ta da,” you exclaim with dorky jazz hands when the two of you finish and Juraj laughs lightly at the words. 

“Thank you,” he says, turning to face you fully. “I really appreciate this.” 

“No one should be alone during the holidays and especially not in an undecorated apartment,” you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder and his smile never fades from his face. 

“Well, would you like to have dinner with me sometime during this holiday season then? I’d hate for us to be alone.” 

“It’s a date.” 

[slafastri28]

I saw a trend on TikTok where girls are calling their boyfriends “husband” instead so maybe that for Slaf?

Ok this is so funny to me because I've been on the receiving end of this! I love this request!

___________________________________________________________

“Could you please do for me this time? " Your boyfriend Juraj of two years lay on the couch of your shared apartment begging. You sat at the other end, taking the phone from him. He was still working on his English, so you handled most of his calls for him.

“When were you supposed to have it by?” you asked, dialing the number, and strategically placing your phone. You had seen this on TikTok before and figured now would be a good opportunity. 

“Uh, yesterday—no, two days ago—no, yes—” he stuttered, trying to remember. All he knew was that he was supposed to have his dry cleaning done before today. You held the phone up to your ear, pressing start on yours as well.

“Hello?” you said into the phone. He glanced over at you occasionally paying little attention and focusing on what was on the TV.

“Yes, hi,” you continued, “I am calling because I am missing an order from you.” You listened to the man on the phone plotting and grinning a little before the next words came out of your mouth.

“It’s a suit, my husband dropped it off and was told it would be ready two days ago and he would get a call, and no call or message, or anything, and he needs it today.” That word husband came out and he shot up from his relaxed position grinning at you. You listened to the phone looking at the stunned yet intense gaze you were getting.

“What color was it?” you asked Juraj sitting next to you. 

“Like dark red,” he said very quickly.

“Dark red,” you repeated into the phone.

“Husband,” he started whispering in your ear then to himself, with an excited tone, you could tell he was thinking. You waved him off, listening to the phone again.

“Yes under my husband’s name, Juraj,” you said once again. You saw his hands quickly move to his lap as a slight red shade came on his face.

“Perfect thank you, he will come pick it up,” you said ending the call. You looked over at him down at his hands then back up at him, before tapping your phone off.

“So you can go pick it up now, we got a discount for the delay,” you smiled.

“I need a minute,” he said sighing, “where you go calling me husband like that?” he exclaimed.

“Well you clearly liked it,” you teased nudging his shoulder. He stood up slowly and grabbed the keys.

“Does my wife need anything,” he smirked, and you blushed.

“For you to hurry up and get back here quick,” you matched his tone.

“You stay there, don’t move,” he pointed a firm finger at you before rushing out the door. 

“Well that was successful,” you said to yourself, taking the phone and uploading the video.

[wintfleur]

SHHH BABY

paring 𝓇osalie hughes 𝔁 𝒸ole caufield

𝓼ynopsis rosa decides to help her boyfriend out after he sneaks into her room . . . he just has to be quiet.

𝔀arnings smut cursing handjob cum eating? 𝔀c 875

“C’mon baby” she purred into his ear, nipping teasingly at his ear, drawing a gasp from his lips. Cole whimpered and leaned his head back against her arm, his jaw slack as he felt her soft hand stroke him at a slow pace. 

Rosa’s eyes stayed focused on Cole’s side profile as she continued to stroke him, taking in every detail of his face. The morning sunlight shone through her curtains and God he looked so pretty under the sunlight. Not even an hour ago she was peacefully sleeping in her bed, and now she laid on her side with her left arm being used as a pillow for Cole while the other was focused on bringing him pleasure. 

“m’so close fuckk” cole groaned loudly and tilted his head to the right, shoving his face into her chest and biting onto the fabric of her — technically his t-shirt — to muffle his loud moans, not wanting to be heard by her brothers and their friends who were currently asleep in their rooms down the hallway. 

His words were true but her constant change in pace — bringing him close to the edge only to pull him back, alternating between slow and fast strokes, was pleasurably torturous. And she enjoyed every minute of it. Rosa smiled and pressed her lips against his temple, looking down at him. His body was flushed and sweaty, abs clenched and his shorts that had been pulled down earlier were lost somewhere in her blankets. 

“baby please – faster” he begged as he bucked his hips up into her hand, his words slurred and breathy. She couldn't help but smirk at how desperate he sounded, she gave the base of his dick a firm squeeze that tore a whimper from his lips, before granting his wish and saying “only cause you asked so nicely” 

she picked up her pace, her hand undulating over his throbbing length. a blush covering her cheeks from the lewd sounds that were being made from it. a loud choked gasp leaving Cole’s lips at the feeling of her rubbing her thumb over his tip, using his precum to stroke him faster. The faster rosa went, the more cole was losing his composure. she watched and listened to him in awe, the prettiest sounds leaving his lips, but sadly she needed him to be quieter. Rosa cooed in his ear tauntingly “Shhh baby, wouldn’t want us to get caught now, would you?” 

cole groaned and placed a quick nipping kiss to her jaw, muffling his moans in her neck. his fingers dug into the plush of her thigh that was draped over one of his legs, leaving little marks that he’d spend the night kissing and caressing, he promised that. She could feel his thighs shake by her legs and his dick twitching in her hands, warning her of his orgasm. 

rosa adjusted how she is stroking him, squeezing harder and focusing on the tip to make his orgasm more intense as she purred encouragingly “c’mon baby, cum for me” 

cole threw his head back against rosa's arm, biting his lip to hold in his moans as ropes of cum spilled from his dick and onto her hand. rosa slowed down her strokes as she helped him ride out his orgasm, easing him down from that high peak. 

“Hoooly shit” cole rasped out. His chest heaved and his thighs trembled, heavy pants leaving his mouth as he tilted his head back, rosa using everything inside her to hold back from leaning down and nipping at his Adams apple. Cole tilted his head to look at his girlfriend, a blissful smile on his lips. 

Cole winced slightly at the sudden feeling of her moving her hand off of him. Rosa smirked when she saw his eyes widen when she lifted her fingers towards her mouth. Keeping eye contact with him as she licked up the mess he left on her fingers. Cole let out a shaky breath as he watched her suck on her fingers, pulling them out of her mouth with a wet pop! Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry mouth before he muttered like he was in a daze “I think i might be in heaven” 

Rosa giggled at the lovesick look on her boyfriend's face and the words he had muttered. She slowly pulled her arm from under his head, placing a soft kiss to his temple before she slipped out of her bed. Cole let out a small hum as his eyes traveled up and down her body, her hair was slightly messy from tossing and turning and she was only wearing an oversized shirt that had her white lace clad bottom peeking out from under it. 

Cole’s eyes lingered on her tan legs as she practically skipped into her ensuite bathroom to wash her hands and teeth. Cole shook his head with a smile before he rested it back against her pillow, still trying to catch his breath as he thought of how wonderful his morning turned out. A quite happy chuckle left his lips when he heard her humming some song as she brushed her teeth. Dozens of dirty thoughts running through his mind as he thought of how he was going to repay her. 

roro’s note. not me posting a smut for their first post 🤭 please please let me know what you guys thought, I would love some feedback! and let me know if you guys want a part 2 of cole helping Rosa out because I am so down for writing that. Cole n Rosa, my fave switches 🫶🏻 this is an interactive AU so send in as many thoughts as you want!!

au m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @cixrosie @toasttt11 @bunbunbl0gs @petite-potato4 @iceflwers

©️WINTFLEUR

[senditcolton]

Work Song

if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me...

summary: when josh is faced with a season ending injury, you are there to comfort him song inspo: work song by hozier word count: 1.6k warnings: hurt/comfort, injury mention, fears & anxieties. gender neutral reader. a/n: i was not surprised that this song was the first one grabbed. hozier really just fucked around and invented romance. i don’t think i was as successful but i hope i did this song justice.

It was a rare occurrence whenever you weren’t at the Bell Centre during a Canadiens game. Usually, it took heaven and hell fighting against you to prevent you from sitting in the stands, cheering on your boyfriend Josh as he played his heart out on that smooth sheet of ice.

Or, maybe all it took was an overbearing boss to prevent you from attending.

That was the case tonight and you heave a sigh as you push through the apartment door, immediately collapsing onto the couch. You grab the remote to turn on the game, not bothering to even take off your shoes. The third period was still going on as you settle into the cushions, your body relaxing as you watch Montreal battle Tampa.

You knew the standings were dismal and that a win so late in the season would likely have no real sway over the inevitable outcome. But you still wanted the Canadiens to triumph; if nothing else, at least for Josh.

Your heartrate increases when Tampa closes the gap late in the third, making it a one goal game and the pounding in your chest does not cease when Tampa pulls their goalie in an attempt to tie it. You watch with baited breath and your heart leaps when Drouin flips the puck out of the zone, directly to Josh speeding towards the empty net.

However, your heart drops as quickly as it jumped when you see Josh gets pulled down onto the ice, colliding with the empty net and knocking it off its moorings.

You faintly register the cascade of boos fall from the fans within the arena but they are inconsequential as you watch in fear as Josh writhes on the ice in obvious pain, your anxiety spiking when he doesn’t get up on his own.

The broadcast shows the replay, discussing the possibility of a penalty and your eyes are glued onto Josh, needing to know what happened, needing to know how bad it was. Your questions are answered when a new angle is shown and it doesn’t take a medical expert to notice how his foot made impact with the post, the force of his body compressing his ankle.

When the feed cuts back to Josh still laying on the ice, the medical staff next to him and a few of his teammates skating over to help him up, your anxiety doesn’t relent. Your previous suspicions are further confirmed when Josh is finally helped off the ice and down the tunnel, using two people for support, barely placing any weight on that right foot.

There is no thinking as you grab your car keys, flying out of the apartment and racing over to Bell Centre. It was ridiculous for you to be doing this. There was only 30 seconds left remaining in the game and you knew Josh would find his way home without your help.

But you had to be there for him. Something in your bones screamed that you needed to be next to him as soon as possible.

By some miracle, you manage to get there before everyone leaves and even manage to talk to the staff who lead you to the after-game waiting area. You greet the few families and significant others but don’t pay them much mind. They do not fault you though, all of them understanding why you were there, giving you a wide berth as you settle on the couch, leg bouncing as you stare towards the elevators, waiting for Josh to appear.

The rest of the families trickle out and you sit, worried and impatient until finally the elevator dings and you leap up when you see Josh step out of the elevator on crutches, his right ankle in a temporary cast, Joel walking next to him with Josh’s bag slung over his shoulder.

There is no hesitation as you run the short distance towards him. You barely have time to register the surprise on his face at your appearance before you are pulling him into a kiss, your relief and love pouring from your lips, simply happy to see him somewhat mobile. You can feel Josh relax into you and your heart flutters at the feeling of the tension being released from his body.

“Wow, if that’s the kind of greeting I get when I’m injured, I might try and get hurt more often.”

Eddy’s voice breaks in and you pull away from Josh to shoot Joel a soft grin, always thankful for his humor. Joel returns your smile but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You turn you attention back to Josh, his own blue eyes still taking you in, still registering that you were here in front of him.

“Come on, let’s go home,” you say, tilting your head towards the exit.  

The three of you wander out to the garage and Eddy helps place Josh’s bag in your trunk, the two of you forming a plan to pick up Josh’s car at some point tomorrow, before he waves goodbye and you hop into the driver’s seat of your car and start the route home.

The car ride back is silent and it remains that way as you and Josh enter the apartment, moving in tandem as you both prepare for bed, you occasionally extending a hand to help him. You let him settle into bed, preparing the pillows and grabbing a cold compress as he takes off the temporary boot and elevates his injured ankle.

You finish up the rest of your nighttime routine before crawling into bed with Josh, curling up next to his side, your head and hand coming to rest on his chest, your fingers starting to absentmindedly draw patterns on to his skin. The silence lingers for a moment before Josh finally speaks.

“I’m out for the rest of the season,” he whispers and you can feel the weight of the words as he says them. You glance up towards his face and see his eyes distant and far away from you.  

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I knew it as soon as it happened.”

“I’m sorry baby.”

You aren’t sure what else to say, so you stay silent and let Josh think, content to listen to his heartbeat and feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he confesses, his eyes still turned away from you. Your only response is a hum, a gentle encouragement for him to continue, a sign that you were willing to listen, one he accepts with a sigh before speaking again.

“I’m almost 30. And this is another injury on my list. I can just feel it creeping closer; the end of my career. I don’t know how much longer I have.”

There is no stopping the pang in your heart at his words, so tinged with defeat and you have to fight back the tears that threaten to fill your eyes. Josh loved the game of hockey so much and it broke your heart to even think about that happiness being taken away from him.

You lift yourself up, propping yourself up on one elbow as you reach up to Josh’s face. Your hand gently lands on his jaw, turning his face towards yours forcing his eyes to connect to yours.

“I love you,” you say, the first words that passed through your mind falling from your lips. You watch as Josh’s eyebrows furrow and you continue in an attempt to explain your declaration.

“I know that might sound stupid or it might not be what you need to hear right now but I want you to know that I love you. I love your passion and I love seeing your joy whenever you lace up the skates. I want you to be happy which means that I want you to fight because hockey makes you happy. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you from chasing your dreams before you’re ready to give them up.”

You watch as those beautiful blue eyes soften, Josh’s lip turning up in a smile in response to your passion. He stays silent, inexplicably knowing that you had more to say and you let the intensity in your voice dissipate as you speak your next words.

“But I also want you to know that whenever it ends, whether it’s your decision or because of something that neither of us can control, I will be here. And I will still love you just as much as I do now.”

At the conclusion of your confession, you look back at Josh and find him staring at you with such tenderness that it makes your heart ache. One of his hands raise to brush against your jawline and you don’t stop yourself from leaning into the warmth of his palm against your skin.

“Do you want to know the first thing I thought about when I went down? The first thought that cut through the pain?” he asks, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheekbone. You give a slight nod in affirmative, eyes glued to him, intent to hear what he had to say.

“I wanted was you there with me. That was the only thing I wanted when I was laying on that ice. But soon I remembered that you weren’t in the stadium. And that thought pushed me to get up. That need to be by your side helped me push through the pain because I knew I had to get back to you. Even if this was the end, if this injury was finally what beat me, I had come home to you.”

Josh pulls you closer to him and you do not fight against him as he brings your face towards his until your foreheads are pressed together, lips barely brushing.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “More than you will ever know. And I will always find my way back to you.”

sign up for my taglist here! support my work through Ko-fi here!

[bedards-bunnie]

Reassurance Never Hurt ❄️🐰

Pairing: Juraj Slafkovsky x Reader Content: Comfort, Snuggling, Body positivity Summary: Reader feels insecure about her weight...Juraj comforts her Word Count: 1.5k Notes: I hope you enjoy..please interact if you did, feedback is appreciated! 💗

*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆*❆

The sound of the television filled the room as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, the glow from the screen illuminating Juraj’s face. His hair was slightly messy, and there was a hint of exhaustion in his expression after the game earlier. Despite that, he was smiling, the corners of his lips twitching upward whenever he laughed at the cheesy dialogue on the screen.

You couldn’t help but glance over at him every time he laughed. His smile; it was perfect. Bright, white, sharp teeth…and that chiseled jawline? It had you melting, no matter how much you tried to resist it. Everything about him was perfect.

Suddenly, his foot poked at your leg, jolting you from your thoughts. “You’re so far away. Get over here,” he said, his voice low and soft, thick with that accent that made everything he said sound ten times more exciting

The two of you weren’t dating, not officially anyway, but you weren’t strangers either. You two were simply acquaintances with an extreme connection to each other. 

“You want me to come over there? Where?” You laughed, trying to play it off as if your heart wasn’t pounding in your chest. “You’re taking up the whole side of the couch!”

He leaned back slightly, patting his chest with his hands, the fabric of his compression shirt clinging to his figure. “Right here. On my chest, дрско девојче.”

His offer was tempting; so, so tempting, but your insecurities held you back. What if you crushed him? Sure, he was used to being thrown around and checked into boards by 200 pound grown men, but something about this felt different. More intimate. And for some reason, you couldn’t shake the irrational fear that you’d be the one to somehow break him.

“Y/N?” His voice broke through your thoughts again, softer this time, but still strong. His expression softened as he tilted his head slightly, his hair falling into his eyes. “Si pekné dievča vo sne,” he murmured, chuckling at your wide eyed reaction. He patted his chest again, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “Come.”

You bit your lip unsure, your gaze shifting to the TV as if it could somehow save you. “Slaf… I can’t,” you finally admitted, your voice quieter now. Guilt crept into your tone, but honestly was important to you.

His brows furrowed slightly and  he looked genuinely concerned. “Why not?” he asked, leaning forward, his voice still soft but a little more serious now. “You think you’ll hurt me?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I’ve been hit by pucks, sticks, and men twice your size. You? You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

You felt your cheeks flush, heat rushing to your face as you fidgeted with the hem of your Montreal jersey. “It’s not that, it’s just…” You trailed off, not even sure how to explain your irrational fear. 

“Just what?” he pressed gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

You hesitated, your words catching in your throat. But then his hand reached our for yours. “You don’t have to be shy with me, дрско девојче,” he murmured, his tone carrying a note of encouragement. “I want you here.”

Those words were enough to tear away at the wall of doubt you’d built around yourself. Slowly, almost cautiously, you shifted closer to him. His arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest where he wanted you.

“There,” he said, his voice low and content as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “See? No problem.” 

You could hear his heartbeat which was quick due to your proximity. You felt as if yours would jump out of your chest at any time as well. Juraj took a deep breath to calm himself, the rise and fall of his chest comforting against your body.

“Juraj?” you mumbled after a few moments of silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his fingers tracing circles on your arm.

“Thank you,” you said softly, though you weren’t even sure what exactly you were thanking him for. For being patient? For understanding? For making you feel like you belonged there, right next to him?

He didn’t say anything right away, but his grip around you tightened ever so slightly, and when he finally spoke, his voice was so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

“Always, dievča moje. Always.”

The sound of the television droned on, fading into the background as the two of you sat close, the space between you finally gone. His arm stayed draped over your shoulders, his warmth seeping into you and you couldn’t imagine having to move away from him. You tried to focus on the movie, but all you could hear was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you and the soft sounds of his breathing.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a while, his voice cutting through the silence.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your face barely inches from his. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?” His eyes searched yours, curious but calm, like he had all the time in the world to figure you out.

You hesitated. It felt too vulnerable to admit the truth. The truth that you were thinking about how right this felt, about how hard it was to keep pretending that this tension between you didn’t exist. Instead, you shrugged lightly, offering a half truth. “About how you even have time to hang out after a game like that.”

His lips formed a smirk  and he leaned back, the shift pulling you even closer against him. “I make time for you,” he said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your stomach flipped at his words, and you quickly turned your gaze back to the TV, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks burned. But of course, he did.

“You’re blushing,” he teased, his voice dropping into something softer, more playful.

“I am not,” you shot back, glaring at him with as much seriousness as you could muster up.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You are,” he said, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm again. “It’s cute.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re a tease” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a grin. “But you like me anyway.”

You didn’t deny it. How could you, when it was written all over your face? Instead, you reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it down to cover both of you. “You’re lucky it’s cold, or I’d make you sit on the other side again,” you said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You wouldn’t,” he said confidently.

“And why not?”

“Because you’d miss me,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes holding something deeper, something that made your breath catch.

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong, and the knowing look on his face said he could see it too.

“See?” he said softly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. His touch lingered, his fingers warm against your skin. “You like being here, with me.”

The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to handle, and you looked away, your heart pounding. “You’re so full of yourself,” you mumbled, but the words lacked any real action. Deep down you knew it wasn’t true, only a playful tease. Juraj was the most selfless person you knew. 

He laughed again, the sound softer this time. “Maybe. But only because you make it too easy.”

Silence settled over again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. You found yourself leaning into him more, letting your guard down little by little.

After a while, he shifted, his arm tightening around you as he adjusted his position. “You’re going to fall asleep on me,” he murmured, his tone laced with amusement.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

“That’s okay,” he said, his hand moving to gently rub your back. “I don’t mind.”

You closed your eyes and nodded, letting his words wash over you. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe, like you didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than yourself.

Just as you were about to drift off, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you stayed tonight,” he said, his tone soft and sincere.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you opened your eyes to look up at him. “Me too,” you whispered back.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a light kiss. “Goodnight, dievča moje,” he murmured.

Your heart swelled at the nickname, and you let your eyes close again, a sense of contentment settling over you.

“Goodnight, Juraj,” you whispered, feeling the last of your walls come down as sleep finally took over you.

[coolprettyleo]

so american - juraj slafkovsky ☆

wc: 1.8k

tw: mentions of sex. fluff? kinda mentions and ED. lmk if there's more!

juraj slafkovsky x reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

being nineteen living in new york city is a scary thing for any teenager. if you could even still call yourself that, but you got by.

instead of going the route that most of your friends did, attending the university of michigan, joining a sorority, and marrying a retired frat guy; you did the complete opposite.

you skipped college and moved to nyc to be a model. it had been going very well for you, seeing as your face was all over times square and you began to become the newest it girl, and you thankfully made enough to pay for your high rise apartment and live a luxaric life that you've always dreamed about.

so why on earth would you be standing in montreal on a tuesday night?

your boyfriend would be the cause of that. he lived in montreal and a love began to grow for the city seeing as its the place you've fallen in love with him.

is it too soon to say that? im sorry, but it's no doubt love; the feelings you've felt.

he was the most perfect boyfriend, treating you like a princess and you couldn't be happier.

you were currently standing at the airport searching for his tall frame. being a long distance couple is not easy but you two made it work. seeing as during the season he's basically glued to montreal, it was up to you to come and see him in the beautiful city, which is why you were here now.

"im outside gate forty six" his thick accent came through the phone. his accent was something that could turn your face red, in a millisecond.

"no your not. im standing directly under it" you said searching for him.

"turn around" you heard his voice come from behind you.

and behold and beyond there stood your boyfriend, standing there in all his glory smiling ear to ear and your excitement to see him, flooded in.

you squealed so loud and dropped your bag to run up to him and hug him. one thing you liked about juraj was his height and the fact you were still able to be shorter than him being 5'11 and all.

"how was your flight" he said giving you a sweet kiss, before picking up your bags and still managing to hold your hand through the crowd of people.

"it was okay, im a little jet lagged though" you said as you saw his car.

"have you eaten yet?, I made us dinner at home" he said opening your door for you.

he knew you hadn't been eating. you had been so wrapped up in growing your name, this was the first break you had in months and juraj was quick to see that. he really worried for you and you've never had someone other than your parents care like that. if he kept up with all this shit, you were going to marry him.

"no, im sorry" you said looking down, as you got in. you felt bad how much he spent worrying for you and you still not eating anything past nine thirty pm was not going to eaze his worries.

"dont apoligize, i got you know" your heart beated at his words.

"I literally love you juraj slafkovsky" you said as he got into the drivers side.

"you literally?" he teased.

"stop it!' you said smiling. you knew already what he was about to tease you about.

"you are so american pretty"

"HOW?!?"

-----

you and juraj were at a bar with his teammates and you were feeling tipsy early on to the night. he was wearing a fit that had you in shambles. god he looked handsome. you were sitting on his lap leaning your face into the crook of his neck.

"Y/N!!!" you heard cole yell over the loud music. you lifted your head from jurajs soft neck to see his teammate, happy to see you in montreal.

"hi cole" you giggled at his excitement.

"sing 22 with me. I just put it into the karaoke machine."

"oh my gosh! yes!!" you said standing up from juraj. right away realizing you were way to drunk to stand, and losing balance.

"woah," juraj said grabbing a hold of your hips and helping you stand straight.

"okay, i think its time to head home" he says smiling at her, holding her up.

"but cole-"

"but she-

"we'll see you tomorrow cole" juraj said cutting both cole and his girlfriend off.

"okay then" cole said looking like a kicked puppy and waving goodbye to you.

"what are you trying to take me home so fast for? hmm" you said to your boyfriend seductively grabbing the collar of his shirt.

"to get you in bed pretty" he said walking you out. you blushed right away thinking the other thing and loved how forward he was being right now even though he meant far from that.

___

you guys arrive to jurajs apartment and all you wanted was your boyfriend.

he opened the door and you didnt waste time to attach your lips to his and push him against the door. his hands still on holding your hips from walking you in, squeezed your sides as he pulled away.

"what are you doing baby" he said giggling at your forwardness.

"I want you. now." you said to him attaching your lips to his sweet spot on his neck.

you knew his weaknesses and even though it hurt him to push you away, you were drunk.

"we cant pretty, your drunk"

"no im not" you said as he guided you to his room.

"yes you are. come on lets get these cloths off"

"sex time?" you said, face lighting up taking off your top.

"no. sleep time" he said helping you pull your boots off.

you groaned and threw yourself starfish back onto his bed.

"come here" he said pulling you up and putting his hoodie over your frame. he put some boxers on you and reached into his drawer for you that had some makeup wipes as you starred at him.

"im sobering up" you said to him as he wiped your makeup off.

"y/n" he said pointly.

you rolled your eyes as you laid back onto the bed watching him begin to change.

"you look pretty in my cloths" he said smiling at how big his hoodie fit you.

"you think I look pretty in everything" you said rolling your eyes at your boyfriends cheesiness.

"so, you are pretty" he said pulling the covers over the both of you and wrapping his arm around you as you cuddled into him.

you traced a finger over his features, seeing as it always helped him fall asleep.

"your pretty" you whispered to him, giggling.

"im pretty?" he said lightly smiling, eyes still close.

"mhm" you said to him.

"goodnight baby. I love you" he said after a while.

"I love you. goodnight" you answered feeling, restless. how were you supposed to sleep when he's with you? and you loved sleeping. you sucked it up, and decided to make sure to be completely sober for tomorrow.

____

you were currently hitting the hottest nyc bars with your best friends, after being dragged out against your will by them and you just wanted to be home in bed. you couldn't believe you used to love going out.

"come on y/n!" your friend yelled over the loud music pulling you along.

you were miserable.

you sat on the booth, when a guy came up to sit next to you.

"hey, im Logan" the man said to you, probably hoping to go home with you tonight.

"y/n" you said uninterested looking around hoping to find somewhere to go off too.

"you like-" he was cutoff by the next song and you couldn't help but think about juraj.

"my boyfriend likes this song!" you said to the guy.

"you have a boyfriend?" he said standing up.

"yeah, it was nice meeting you" you said walking away.

you saw your friend with her newest eye candy and you walked up to them.

"y/n! this is... omg I already forgot. but he said he plays hockey!"

"uhm no, I said I liked it"

"its okay. I know your secret" she said whispering and pushing herself right after.

"what's your favorite team?" you said hoping the conversation would bring up juraj. its like you couldn't go a conversation without talking about him.

"the maple leafs"

you cringed.

"my boyfriend hates that team"

"he a montreal fan or what"' the guy said with his arm still around your best friend.

"no hes a playe-"

"are you talking about juraj again!?!" a voice comes from behind you.

"what do you mean again. I don't talk about him THAT much."

your friends shared a look before they both let out,

"yes you do"

____

you were currently at a photoshoot for the cover of times magazine when you got a FaceTime call coming from your boyfriend.

"hi" you said answering.'

"hello, how is the shoot going"

"really good! we're doing the last outfit, and im so happy because im spent" you said exhaustedly.

"dont tire yourself too much" he said seeing her eye bags hiding under the makeup she was wearing.

"I won't, anyways what happened?" you knew he wanted to ask you something because he knew not to interrupt your shoot time.

"my mom wants to know if you would join us for christmas, and im looking at tickets rights now, did you want to join us?" he said with a hopeful look.

you wanted to squeal. he was taking you home to his native land, and for some reason that felt so sacred to you. doesn't this man know that you would go anywhere he goes?

"that sounds like fun, I'd think l'd enjoy that" you said smiling at him. he let out what seemed to be a breath he'd been holding.

"okay, love. im booking our flights right now then. thank you for doing this"

"thank you for inviting me"

"oh! that means you have to spend thanksgiving with my family!" you added.

"okay. is that actually something you guys celebrate?" juraj asked. he thought the holiday was something he saw in movies seeing as they didnt celebrate the holiday, from where he was from .

"obviously! its only the best holiday!!!"

"yeah? what's your favorite thing about it?"

"well I like the food, obviously. I like spending time with everyone and watching the parade in nyc- oh! and the football game is always so much fun to watch, omg! and we have to put on the game for christmas at your families" you said to him.

"that seems..." he said trailing off, smiling at your excitement.

"spit it out slaf" you said, knowing he was about to make fun of you. he hesitated because he didnt know if he wanted to keep teasing you over this.

"so american"

___

hi guys! im sorry about the inactivity. I've had so much work and school work but, I will be writing more though, because im currently in the hospital, getting treated for a spider bite... so ill have ALOT of time. send in au thoughts lol.