#need to get make into drawing my hockey players…

[auss2egr2t]

nhl player head stickers |

[freebooter4ever]

The tech guys are hanging out in my office again and chatting about $10,000 week long vacations like this is normal.

[moonyflesh]

What if Wolverine took you to a hockey game?

WARNINGS: (not much). no smut- just a playful set of imagines/headcannons — very fluffy and ‘lovey-dovey’ (small kisses and cursing).

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (‘Wolverine’) - (MARVEL/X-MEN)

🍺 .*.. 🏒

- At first you thought he was joking.

- i mean- can you imagine trying to squeeze his massive frame into one of those tiny, plastic stadium chairs?

- sure you know nothing about the “Calgary Flames”, but supporting the beast either way is entertaining enough as it is—

- (^) literally the worst person to sit around. he’s loud, obnoxious, (big), and curses like there’s no tomorrow.

- “fuckin- can you fuckin’ believe these pieces ‘uh shit? i totally could’ve fuckin’ made that fuckin’ shot. buncha’ bullshit ifya ask me.”

- he’s definitely big on stadium snacks. constantly has to get up and get more food (and beer).

- (^) the bar would 100% have to draw a limit on the amount of beer they can physically sell him.

- probably walks you through the basic rules of ice hockey, and/or the different players, and the fan-favorites.

- little forehead or cheek kisses when he needs to run to go to the bathroom or grab more food.

- one of his arms is slung around your shoulders at all times.

- throughout the game, he’s constantly glancing over at you- reading your facial expressions. are you enjoying yourself? do you know what’s happening? is this entertaining for you, too?

- definitely likes to show you (and your jersey) off.

- (^) forced you to wear a Flames jersey (that’s much to large on you) and is proud of you for “pickin’ the right fuckin’ team”— so what? at least you get his undivided attention.

- puts you on his shoulders so you both have a better chance of getting on the big screen.

- (^) and if you do? jesus, it makes his whole month. the second that camera pans to you two he’s already tongue-deep into your mouth, grinning like an idiot as you try to push him away from embarrassment.

- you totally go to the photo booth and take the most grainy, out-of-focus pictures known to man together in some shitty ice rink backdrop, (to which he insists you look beautiful- and sticks the entirety of the photo into his wallet).

- buys you a shitload of merch, including one of the collectible hockey pucks.

- claims to know some of the players personally (he’s never met any of them outside of the rink).

- distinctly shouts out each player’s first and last names when cheering them on.

- boos the other team, and their fans with zero shame whatsoever.

- the drive home depends on the outcome of the game.

- (^) The Flames lose? he’s not even mad- he’s just disappointed that that was all his team could manage for your first game. he promises to take you to more, though.

- (^) and if they win? he’s already discussing the ticket prices for the next game (if you’re willing to go with him again); excited grins tossed your way here and there as he makes sure you’re paying attention.

@trenchcoathunnybee08 this is dedicated to you! Sorry it took so long to finally get out (in some ways, it’s still a WIP). 🫶🏼

((if any of you would like to be added to my taglist, let me know through my inbox.))

[captain-huggy-bear]

Just thinking about how clingy Jack is after a roadie. That man won’t let you do anything

Yeah, lets be real, Jack is a clingy baby. Olympic levels of clingy when he's finally back home. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

Jack's always been clingy. This is only made ten times worse when he's missed you. He's under your feet every time he comes back from a roadie. He's a tactile person by nature, always reaching for you on any given day, but it's made 100 times more severe when he's been gone for a few days or worse a week. In a lot of ways it's sweet and flattering that he cares and misses you so much that he has to be on top of you the moment he’s home, has to be under your feet. In other ways? It's a bit of an inconvenience, and depending on your mood can actually make you a little grumpy.

It starts with him just being in the same room as you, whether it’s watching you cook or watching you fold laundry, Jack’s eyes follow you wherever you go. But, it never stays like that for long, maybe 5 minutes tops. Soon he’ll start physically following you around the room, not quite under your feet, but close enough that he’s in your peripheral vision, your shadow. You can feel him behind you, can sense where he is at all times even when he isn't yapping away at you. This is manageable, he’s not in the way and he’s never stopping you from doing what you need to at this point, but it never lasts long. Usually within 20 minutes of Jack being home he’s on you like the plague, arms latched around you, chest to your back, face nuzzled into your neck.

It’s sweet but impractical, you’re trying to go about your day and he refuses to let go of you, he has to be physically attached to you in some way whether it’s wrapping you in his arms and waddling behind you or putting his chin on your arm or a hand on your leg.

"Jack, I'm trying to make my lunch," You can't help but laugh as you try to cut up some veggies, arm movements somewhat restricted by the band of arms wrapping around your chest. Jack's so close to you he's practically pressing you into the counter.

"You can still make lunch like this..." He grumbles into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin there, the kisses are so light that you can't help but giggle at the ticklish sensation. This only draws an encouraged smirk from him, one that you can feel widening against your skin.

"Jack..."

"Angelllll...."

"Jackkkkkk," Nothing you say or do will get him to let go, he'll waddle around the kitchen with you, waddle to the kitchen table. Even when you sit down, he drags a chair so close to you that your legs are touching from hip down to ankle and he's got his arms wrapped around your waist, chin pressed into your shoulder the entire time you eat. You can't help but feel a mite embarrassed at him watching you so intently with those baby blues while you eat, the only thing making it bearable is the fact he's smiling the whole time like you're doing something amazing. Not just eating lunch.

Even when you try to shower, he's there, unable to detach himself from you because he's been gone so long and don't you love him? Didn't you miss him? He just wants to be around you...and Luke will more than happily confirm that Jack has been unbearable the entire roadie, nonstop talking about how he can't wait to get back home to you when he isn't talking about hockey.

“Jack, baby, I need to shower…” Your hands are pushing at Jack's shoulders in an attempt to get him to unlatch from you, but he's a hockey player. He's strong and if he doesn't want to be move then he's not moving.

“Can’t I just shower with you?”

“As if you could keep your hands to yourself..." You scoff at him trying to peel his arms off you, Jack only squeezes your waist tight. He's pouting up at you like you're being mean for wanting to have a shower without his arms attached to you for five minutes.

"I promise I can, I promise, baby..."

"No."

"Then I'm sitting in here." It's like watching a toddler sit on the floor of a supermarket refusing to get up because they can't have the thing they wanted. The way he points at the closed toilet lid to further illustrate his point, that he's not going anywhere.

"You're going to sit there and watch me shower? Like a creep?"

"Like a boyfriend who's missed his girlfriend who he loves dearly and who's girlfriend won't let him help her shower because she doesn't trust or love him." He's ultimately joking, you can see it in the twinkle in his eyes. You know if you told him that you wanted him to leave, that he was making you uncomfortable, he would. It's what makes the whole thing sweet and endearing because you don't mind him wanting to constantly be under your feet, you actually kind of love it.

"I trust you..." you pause for a second before grinning at him, "I just don't trust you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Baby..." He whines at you, almost throwing a tantrum, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. You know this phase will go soon, after a day back he'll still be clingy but not to this extent, so you find it cute and endearing rather than irritating while it lasts.

"Do you promise to help me wash my hair and not make any untoward advances?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise!"

"Okay, you can help me shower you big baby."

And he does help you wash your hair, but maybe his hands do wander a little...because he's Jack and he's missed you.

[lee-laurent]

Swept Under the Rug - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack's never been known for his... stable relationships, but Luke's bsf might just change that. The issue: Luke would rather die than see her date his brother

content: angst, mentions of being unfaithful, fwb, fluff!, kissing, mentions of smut but no explicit smut

wc: 4.9k

notes: hey! this was the second-most requested from my list of upcoming fics! if somethings don't line up, i'm sorry! i didn't proofread it :/ enjoy!!

Elizabeth Winters, known to most as Liz but forever "Lizzy" to Luke Hughes, considered the Hughes house her second home. Over the years, she'd spent countless days sprawled on their basement couch, eating snacks with Luke while they watched the latest Leafs game on the TV or sharing inside jokes that made no sense to anyone but them.

Luke was her best friend in every way that mattered: loyal, protective, and so steadfastly in her corner that it felt like he was her own personal guard dog. It wasn't uncommon for him to roll his eyes at her latest "crush of the week" or grumble about some guy who'd wasted her time. "You need better taste in men, Lizzy," he'd say with all the authority of someone who acted like he had it figured out.

It was that protectiveness that made the summer before Luke's second NHL season both exciting and a little bittersweet. With the pressures of professional hockey looming large, she knew their carefree, everyday hangouts would start to dwindle. Luke insisted they wouldn't, but Liz had been around long enough to know how life could pull people apart.

Still, the Hughes house held its usual chaotic energy, and Liz felt like she was where she belonged. Quinn was more of a quiet presence when he was around, often keeping to himself. Jack, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

He was impossible to ignore. He carried himself with an effortless charm that seemed to draw people in like moths to a flame. Jack was cocky but not in an unkind way--he knew he was good at hockey, good-looking, and awfully good at making people laugh. His reputation with girls, however, left something to be desired. Liz had heard enough stories from Luke to know that Jack was what one might generously call "a player."

"Jack thinks commitment is a four-letter word," Luke had joked once, earning a laugh from Liz.

She'd always been skeptical of Jack's allure, even if she had to admit he had the kind of grin that could probably get him out of trouble nine times out of ten. For her, he was Luke's annoying older brother, nothing more. Sure, he had that floppy hair that made him look like a dork when he tucked it behind his ears, and yeah, his laugh was infectious, but Liz wasn't about to fall into that trap. She knew better.

It was one of those lazy afternoons in early July when Liz found herself once again in the Hughes' kitchen, rifling through the fridge for a drink.

"You know, you're here more than I am," Jack teased from his stool at the island.

Liz rolled her eyes, popping the cap off a bottle of water. "Maybe that's because you're always gallivanting with whatever Instagram model happens to be in town."

Jack smirked, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Gallivanting? Who even uses that word?"

"People who read books," Liz shot back, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at the way he laughed.

Their banter was easy, but it meant nothing. Jack flirted with everyone, from waitresses to Luke's friends' moms. That was just who he was.

"Lizzy!" Luke's voice echoed from the living room. "You're not letting Jack corrupt you, are you?"

Liz turned to see Luke walking in, hair damp from his shower and a scowl on his face aimed squarely at his brother.

"Corrupt me? Please," she said, grabbing her water bottle and heading toward her best friend. "Your brother doesn't stand a chance."

Jack's mock-offeneded "Hey!" followed her out of the kitchen, but she barely looked back.

The rest of the day passed the way it always did when she was with Luke, easily. Luke hogged the whole sofa, their laughter punctuated by the occasional chirp from Jack, who had perched himself on the armrest at some point.

Despite her insistence that she wasn't swayed by Jack's charm, Liz couldn't help but notice the way his presence seemed to fill the room. When he cracked a joke, everyone laughed. When he smiled, it was impossible not to look.

But that was just Jack. And she wasn't about to fall for it.

Right?

~~

Liz should've said no.

She should've declined when Jack offered to drive her home after another late night at the Hughes house. Luke had fallen asleep halfway through a Marvel movie marathon, his lanky frame sprawled across the couch while Liz had been left half-buried under a blanket. Jack, ever the night owl, had wandered in during the second movie, teasing her about her choice of snacks and stealing half her popcorn.

By the time the credits rolled, it was nearly midnight.

"I can call an Uber," Liz had said, brushing off the flutter in her heart when Jack offered to drive her.

"Or," Jack countered, "you could save twenty bucks and let me do the honours."

She hesitated, glancing at Luke, who was snoring lightly beside her. On paper, there was no good reason to refuse. Jack lived for late nights and seemed completely unbothered, even energized, by the idea of going out at this hour. It wasn't like he was some stranger--he was Luke's brother. She'd known him for years.

And yet.

"Fine," Liz relented, grabbing her bag.

The car ride started inncoently enough. Jack turned the music up, some mellow indie playlist filling the silence as the suburban streets blurred by. They talked about random things: the weirdest foods they'd ever tried, a debate about whether summer or winter was better, and the chaos of their childhoods.

Liz was laughing more than she should have, glancing over at Jack as he gestured animatedly about a prank he'd pulled on Quinn years ago.

But then... the conversation shifted.

"You don't really think I'm that bad, do you?" Jack asked suddenly, his once light tone now pointed.

Liz frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," he said, flashing her a grin before looking back at the road. "The whole 'Jack's a player, avoid at all costs' thing. You and Lukey love giving me shit about it."

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I mean, you don't exactly have the best track record."

Jack laughed softly, shaking his head. "Fair enough. But you ever think there's more to me than that?"

She didn't know how to respond. Sure, Jack could be cocky and frustrating, but in moments like this--when it was just the two of them, the banter stripped away--he seemed... different.

"I guess I never really thought about it," Liz admitted, her voice quieter now.

"Maybe you should."

The air in the car shifted, subtle but undeniable. Liz felt her heartbeat pick up, her mind racing with questions she didn't dare voice.

They pulled into her driveway, the porch light casting a warm glow across the front of her house. Liz reached for the door handle, but Jack's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

She turned, finding him watching her with an intensity she'd never seen before.

"You're different, Liz. You know that?"

Liz blinked. "Different how?"

Jack leaned slight closer, his movements unhurried. "You're not like the other... Instagram model girls. You don't care about any of that bullshit they do. You're just... you."

It would've been easier to laugh off, to tease him for making her seem like a manic pixie dream girl. But something about the way he said it--he wasn't very good with words--made it impossible.

"Jack..." she started, but whatever she was about to say vanished the moment he leaned in.

The kiss was nothing like she expected, soft at first but quickly growing hungrier, fueled by weeks--months, years--of tension. Liz could hear her pulse in her ears, her hands gripping the fabric of his light hoodie.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But it felt so, so good.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. Liz stared at him, the conflicting emotions a tornado in her head.

"What are we doing?" she whispered.

Jack smirked, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Living a little?"

Living a little. That was all this was to him.

"I can't," she shook her head. "Luke--he'd kill us both."

Jack sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Luke doesn't have to know everything you do, Liz."

Jack's world was one of easy charm and fewer consequences, but this wasn't just about him.

"I can't betray him like that," Liz said, her voice firmer now.

Jack tilited his head, studying her. "And what about you? What do you want, Liz?"

The question lingered, but remained unanswered as she hopped out of the car, whispering a quiet "thank you."

She barely slept that night. Her mind replaying their make out session--if you could call it that--over and over. The feeling of Jack's lips on hers, the look in his eyes.

She hated how much she wanted to kiss him again.

But the thought of Luke--the way he trusted her, the way he'd drop everything to be there for her--was a constant, gnawing idea in her mind.

Jack didn't seem like the kind of guy who thought too hard about the consequences of his actions. And she wasn't sure she could trust him to take this seriously, not when the stakes were so high.

~~

The next time she saw Jack, he acted like nothing had happened.

"Morning, Liz," he said breezily, winking at her as he grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen.

"M--Morning."

Luke walked in seconds later, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between his brother and his best friend. "Lizzy, you ready for some one-on-one later? I've been working on my wrist shot, and I'm gonna fucking smoke you this time."

"Dream on," she shot back, thankful for the distraction.

But as the day went on, she couldn't shake the feeling of Jack's eyes on her, the ghost of his lips on hers still fresh in her mind.

She was in shit. Deep, deep shit.

~~

The kiss hadn't been intended to turn into anything more.

In the days that followed, she tried to convince herself it had been a fluke, a moment of weakness they could both pretend never happened. But Jack seemed to want to make that impossible.

It started small: a lingering loko when Luke wasn't paying attention, a teasing brush of his hand against hers as he walked by, or an offhand comment laced with double meaning that made her pulse quicken. Jack was the kind of person who thrived on the thrill of the chase, and Liz had unwittingly become his favourite game.

What terrified her most was how much she liked it.

It wasn't long before she found herself sneaking off with Jack during her visits to the Hughes house.

"Luke's in the basement," Jack whispered one evening, appearing from the doorway of the guest room when Liz had been scrolling through her phone.

"And?"

"And I'm here," Jack's grin was all confidence, but his eyes held something deeper--something that kept Liz from brushing him off.

"That's a bad idea," she said, even as she let him close the door behind him.

"Probably. But you're not telling me to leave."

He knew exactly how to read her.

Before she could come up with a retort, he crossed the room and kissed her. It was hungry, insistent, and impossible to resist. Liz melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he climbed on top of her on the bed.

"Jack," she mumbled against his lips, his hands resting on her exposed midriff. "This is insane." She was desperately trying to ignore the heat coursing through her veins.

"Maybe, but it doesn't feel wrong... does it?"

She just pulled him back down by the collar of his t-shirt, pressing their lips together, ignoring the chuckle he let out at her eagerness.

~~

The guilt came later, after she'd put her clothes back on and fixed her hair, trying to find Luke.

"Lizzy, you're distracted," Luke said, passing a ball to her.

"What? No, I'm not," she lied, stopping it before it rolled into the grass.

Luke squinted at her, resting his stick on his shoulders. "Is this about that guy you were talking to a couple weeks ago? What was his name? Kyle?"

"What? No. Kyle was--he's nothing."

"Good," he said firmly, firing a puck into the net. "You deserve better than guys like him."

She swallowed hard, ignoring that she had just had sex with a 'guy like him.'

"You're too sweet, Lu," she forced a smile.

"Someone has to be," he shot back. "Speaking of which, if a dumbass like him ever tries anything, you'll tell me, right? I'm not afraid to throw hands if I have to."

"Sure, Lukey. You'll be the first to know."

~~

It wasn't just the stolen kisses and heated moments.

One night, Liz found herself sitting with Jack on the porch swing, the cool summer breeze making her shiver slightly. She'd come outside to clear her head and Jack had followed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, handing her his sweatshirt off his back.

Liz pulled it over her head, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her. "Just... thinking about life, I guess."

"Deep stuff," he teased.

"D'you ever feel like you're living two lives?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, I have this life with Luke and your family, where everything's normal and comfortable. But then there's... this." She gestured vaguely between them.

"I get it. It's like when I'm on the ice versus when I'm off. On the ice, everything makes sense. Off... not so much."

"I didn't think you overthought things."

Jack laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I don't show it, but yeah, I do sometimes."

Maybe there was more to Jack than the cocky, carefree persona he showed to the world.

"Thanks for the sweatshirt," she said, leaning a little closer to him.

Jack wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "Anytime."

~~

Luke remained oblivious to what was happening right under his nose, though Liz could feel the pressure mounting.

During another movie night, Jack sat on the sofa a little too close to Liz, his knee brushing hers. She stiffened, eyes darting to Luke, who was preoccupied with a bag of chips.

Jack smirked, clearly enjoying how it made her squirm, and draped an arm across the back of the couch.

"Jack, stop being weird," Luke said without looking up.

Jack laughed, shifting slightly but leaving his arm where it was.

"Lizzy, you okay?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, fine. Why?" she turned to look at him.

"Just... acting differently."

"Differently?"

"I don't know," he frowned. "Distracted. Are you sure you're not seeing that Kyle guy?"

Jack's jaw ticked.

"No! Of course not. I already told you that."

"Good. He sucks."

Liz let out a shaky breath, missing the grimace on Jack's face.

As she prepared to leave that night, Jack caught her arm near the door.

"You need to stop doing that," she hissed, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby.

"Doing what?"

"You know what. You're going to get us caught."

Jack leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Maybe I like seeing you squirm."

Liz glared at him, but her bright red cheeks betrayed her.

"Relax," he said, brushing some hair behind her ear. "I've got it all under control."

Liz wasn't so sure.

~~

The thrill of meeting up in secret was intoxicating, but the constant risk of discovery weighed heavily on her. Every time she stepped into the Hughes hous, her favourite place, she felt like she was one wrong move away from a disaster.

Jack seemed unfazed. The secrecy only seemed to amuse him.

"Morning, Liz," he said one Saturday as she entered the house.

Luke looked up from his breakfast. "You're here early."

She shrugged, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. "You told me to come by, remember?"

He grunted in acknowledgment, but his eyes drifted to Jack who was barely concealing a smirk.

"What're you so fucking happy about?"

"Nothing," Jack said innocently, his smirk only widenening as he chugged his milk.

Liz quickly turned her back to both of them, focusing on making her coffee the way she liked.

~~

The first time they almost got caught, it was Jack's fault.

Liz had stayed late at the Hughes, watching a game with Luke and some of his old teammates. Jack had wandered in halfway through (as usual), throwing jabs at Luke and stealing Liz's food.

By the time the game ended, Luke and his friends had disappeared to FaceTime someone else, leaving Liz and Jack alone.

"You staying over?" he asked.

Liz gave him a pointed look. "No, I'm leaving soon. Luke's just upstairs."

He leaned in. "That's never stopped you before."

Her cheeks flushed, and she shoved him away. "You're impossible."

"And yet you still like me anyway."

Footsteps came down the stairs and Jack leaned back, his expression turning neutral with incredible speed.

"You're still here?" Luke asked Liz.

"Yeah, I, uh, I'm just leaving now," she said quickly, standing up.

Jack gave her a small wink as she left, and she had to fight the urge to glare at him.

~~

The second close call was even worse.

Jack: You coming over? Liz: I'm literally outside, dipshit. But Luke's gonna kill you if he finds out Jack: Lukey won't notice. We'll play some music ;)

She sent a quick, flustered reply before shoving her phone in her pocket and heading inside.

An hour later, she was sitting with Luke on the basement floor when he grabbed her buzzing phone and frowned.

"What's this?" he held up the screen.

Jack's name was at the top of the text thread, the messages not visible because the phone was still locked.

"Oh... you know Jack, always being a shit stirrer," she shrugged.

Luke's face screwed up, tossing the phone back on the couch. "Such a fucking weirdo."

"Yep," she giggled.

~~

"You two have been acting weird lately," Luke said.

"What're you talking about?"

"You and Jack," he frowned. "He's always teasing you, and you get all... jumpy. It's not like you."

Liz forced a laugh. "Jack teases everyone."

"Yeah, but it's different with you," he continued. "It's almost like--"

He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. "Never mind. I'm just being paranoid. Right?"

She nodded, quickly steering the conversation in a different direction.

And despite the mounting tension, Liz and Jack continued to grow closer in ways she hadn't expected.

One night, after another hasty hookup in his room, Liz lay beside him, her head resting on his chest.

"This is crazy," she said, tracing patterns on his skin.

"What? Sneaking around?"

"All of it," she propped herself up on her elbow. "This isn't just... casual for me. I don't know if I can like keep this up if we're not... serious?"

Jack reached up to brush away the hair sticking to her forehead. "Who says it's not serious?"

She searched his face for any sign that it was just a cruel joke. "I've never seen you do serious with anyone before... and I've known you for my entire life... practically."

Jack sighed, his hand settling on her bare waist. "Didn't want to. Until now."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache, but it didn't erase the fear.

"What about Luke?"

Jack's jaw tightened. "I'll deal with Luke when the time comes. Right now, I just want you."

But the shadow of Luke's inevitable reaction loomed over them, a reminder that their time was running out.

~~

It was late and the rest of the house was quiet. Liz had been curled up in Jack's room for hours, tangled in his sheets, the two of them caught in that dreamy post-sex haze.

"You should go," Jack murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Luke's gonna freak if you're here when he wakes up."

She groaned softly, burying her face in his chest. "You've been saying that for the past hour."

Jack grinned. "I like having you here. Sue me."

Liz rolled her eyes, sitting up reluctantly. "You're gonna get me killed."

Jack leaned back, hands folded behind his head. "Worth it."

She shook her head, pulling on her hoodie and trying to ignore Jack's hungry gaze that followed her around the room.

Quietly, she opened the door and stepped into the dim hallway, closing it behind her as softly as she could. She had made it three steps when she froze, her heart plummeting to her feet.

Luke was standing at the other end of the hall, disbelief covering his face.

"Lizzy?"

"Luke, I--"

"What the hell are you doing?" His gaze flickered from her to Jack's closed door, realization dawning with horrifying clarity.

"Are you kidding me?" his voice rose, fists clenched at his sides. "Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Jack's door opened then, and Liz watched in horror as he stepped out, his expression calm.

"Luke," he started, but Luke cut him off, his face twisting in anger.

"Don't," Luke snapped. "Don't even try explaining your way out of this."

Liz had never seen Luke like this. In all their years of friendship, she'd never seen him so... angry.

"You," he pointed at Jack, his voice trembling. "You're supposed to be my brother. And you," he turned to Liz, his expression hurt, "you're my best friend. How could you?"

"Luke, it's not like that," she tried, her voice shaking. "It's not--"

"It's not what? A hookup?" he laughed bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Jack. "That's all it ever is with you, isn't it?"

Jack stepped forward. "It's not like that, Luke."

"Don't even try to defend yourself," Luke shot back. "You think I don't know you? You've spent your whole life treating girls like they're disposable. And now you're doing it to Lizzy?"

"She's not disposable."

Luke scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? You're just gonna toss her aside like everyone else when you get bored."

"That's not fair," Liz's voice trembled.

"Fair?" Luke looked to her, his eyes blazing. "Fair is me trusting you. Fair is you not sneaking around behind my back with him."

Liz flinched, tears stinging her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Then you shouldn't have done it."

"I... I didn't plan for this to happen," her voice broke. "It just did, okay? And I didn't know how to tell you."

Luke shook his head, running his hands through his curls. "You should've told me the second it started. I could've handled that. But this?" He gestured between the two of them. "This is betrayal, Lizzy. From both of you."

"It's not what you think," she pleaded. "Jack isn't using me. He cares about me."

Luke barked a harsh laugh. "Oh, sure. Jack Hughes, the king of meaningless hookups, suddenly decides to care. Do you even hear yourself?"

"I care about her, Luke. A lot more than you think."

"Yeah? Then prove it. Because all I see is you doing what you always do--thinking about yourself."

Jack's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

Liz reached out, her hands trembling as she grabbed Luke's arm. "Luke, please. You're my best friend. I never wanted to hurt you."

Luke pulled away like she'd burned him with her touch. "You didn't just hurt me, Lizzy. You broke my trust."

She turned to Jack, silently pleading for him to say something that would fix this, but Jack looked just as lost as she felt.

Luke shook his head, backing away from both of them. "I need space. From both of you."

"Luke..." But he was already walking away, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.

Liz turned to Jack again, her tears spilling over. "What do we do now?"

"We give him time."

"What... what if he never forgives us?"

"He's your best friend, and he's my brother. He'll come around. Eventually."

Liz wasn't so sure.

~~

She spent the days following in a fog, her chest constantly tight with guilt. Luke hadn't spoken to her since the confrontation, her phone sitting silent, devoid of her normal texts from her best friend. The distance felt unbearable, a stark contrast to the years of effortless closeness they had shared.

Jack, while supportive, didn't press her. He gave her the space she wanted to process things, though he made it clear he wasn't going anywhere based off his brother's feelings.

"You know where to find me," he'd told her the last time they'd talked.

On the third day of her slump, she decided the silence had gone on long enough. She drove to the Hughes', her heartbeat matching her knocks on the door.

It was Ellen who answered, her smile faltering slightly when she saw Liz.

"Hi, sweetie," she stepped aside to let her in. "Luke's in the basement."

"Is he... okay?"

Ellen sighed. "He's upset, but he'll come around. Just give him time."

Liz nodded, breathing deeply as she made her way downstairs. Luke was on the couch, a hockey game playing on the TV. He glanced up when she walked in, his expression suddenly guarded.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice flat.

Liz's throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. "I want to fix this, Luke. I miss you. I miss us."

He looked away. "You should've thought about that before you started hooking up with Jack."

Her eyes stung. "It wasn't just a hookup. It's way more than that."

Luke scoffed. "That's what they all think with Jack. You're just another girl to me, Liz. You're better than that."

"No, I'm not," she said firmly. "You think you know Jack, but you don't see the side of him I do. He's not perfect, but he's trying. And he cares about me, Luke. This isn't just sex for him."

"It doesn't matter. You lied to me. You both did. How am I supposed to trust either of you after this?"

Liz tried... and failed to blink back tears. "I made a mistake by not telling you, Luke. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. You're my best friend. You always will be. Please don't let my mistake ruin us."

For a long moment, he didn't respond. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned off the TV and faced her.

"I need more time," he said quietly. "I can't forgive you that quickly, Lizzy. But I don't want to lose you either."

She nodded, her tears still falling. "Take the time you need, Lu."

~~

Later that evening, it was Jack's turn to face Luke's rage.

"You're really something, you know that?" Luke said, his arms crossed as he stood in the kitchen, glaring at his older brother.

"Look, I know I screwed up, okay? I should've told you the truth. But this thing with Liz--it's not a game, Luke. I care about her."

Luke's laugh was bitter. "Care about her? Since when do you care about anyone but yourself?"

"That's not fair," Jack snapped. "I've made mistakes in the past, yeah. But Liz isn't one of them."

"You don't get it, Jack! She's my best friend. She's like family to me. And you--you just take whatever you want without thinking about the consequences."

Jack stepped forward, his jaw tight. "You think this was easy for me? You think I didn't know how much it would hurt you if you found out? But I couldn't stop, Luke. I--"

"I love her," he finished.

"You love her?" Luke asked, an unreadable look on his face.

"Yeah... I do."

For a moment, Luke said nothing. Then he sighed, his shoulder slumping slightly.

"If you hurt her," he said lowly. "I'll never forgive you."

"I won't. I swear."

~~

"Luke and I talked," Jack said, letting Liz snuggle further into his side. "He's still pissed, but I think he's finally starting to come around."

Liz smiled faintly. "He said the same thing to me. I just hope he forgvies us someday."

"He will. I know Luke. You know Luke. He'll get there."

"Did you really mean it? What you told him?"

Jack frowned. "I... what did I tell him?"

Liz smirked. "Don't play dumb, pretty boy. About...lo--"

Realization dawned on his face, and he chuckled softly. "Yeah, I meant it. I love you, Liz."

Her breath hitched and he squeezed her hand. "I love you too!"

~~

It took a while, but eventually Liz and Luke were, well.... Liz and Luke again. They'd spend their free-time together just like they always had, making fun of horrible straight to Netflix movies and playing hockey in the driveway. They were best friends again, just as they were meant to be.

And slowly but surely, Luke came around to Jack and Liz being a couple. Jack had somehow proved his worth, whether it was through the way he supported Liz when she was down or how he already had every little detail about the girl memorized--her coffee order, her favourite book, what movies she watched when she was happy, sad, and the exact words she needed to hear when she was doubting herself.

It wasn't some grand gesture that that changed Luke's mind but a series of small everyday actions that proved Jack was serious. For the first time in his life, Jack wasn't just chasing a fleeting thrill or looking for a quick escape. He had found something real, someone he didn't just want--someone he was willing to fight for.

Luke still gave them grief from time to time, teasing Jack about being whipped or Liz about how much Jack was her regular type. But deep down, he was happy for them.

Because if there was one thing Luke cared about more than anything, it was that Liz was happy. And she was--truly, deeply, happier than he'd ever seen her.

And that was all that mattered.

[luveline]

so! we were talking about hockey!sirius a couple days ago soooooooo

i would love to request hockey!sirius flirting with a reader who is not yet his girlfriend. (bonus points if he does the lighting her cigarettes for her like i would die actually)

thank you for requesting! —hockey player!sirius asks you on a date. 1k

"Hey, you." 

You squeeze your box of cigarettes but manage to keep your flinch to yourself. "Sirius, you're like a ghost," you complain, letting your bag fall back behind you. 

"A fit one, at least?" he asks. "I've caught you, haven't I?" 

You fish your box of cigarettes from your bag guiltily. "Don't tell my coach and I'll give you one." 

"Give me two and I'll let you borrow my clipper."

"A clipper," you drawl, drawing two cigarettes from the box to pass him. "I didn't think you were rich." 

"You know, my parents are loaded." 

You put a cigarette between your lips and shove the box down the depths of your bag, your dirty little secret hidden once again. Sirius knows because he's the only other idiot sportsman at your rink stupid enough to smoke at practice. "Weird brag." 

"Well," —he bobs his head from left to right gently, inhaling sharply as he lights the end of his cigarette, breathing through it, "it would be if I spoke to them." 

"Oh, shit. Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his cigarette held carelessly between his lips as he ushers you forward. He's much more careful about you, holding your arm in a gentle hand as he lights the end of your cigarette, and nodding encouragingly when you inhale, his eyes a stony grey where they meet yours. "I brought it up." His hand coasts briefly up to your shoulder before he takes a step back. "I like telling you things." 

You lean against the wall and Sirius leans beside you. The outside of the rink is boring, a huge parking lot full of cars going in and out. Sirius' car, a dark cherry red oldsmobile with more scratches than paint, is parked not too far from where you're standing, a dent the size of a sledgehammer head in the driver's side that wasn't there before. "What happened to the vampmobile?" you ask. 

"James. I bet you never would've guessed," he says sarcastically.  

"I wouldn't have. He's a sweetheart. I'd be much more tempted to think you did it doing doughnuts on the industrial–" 

Sirius cuts you off, flicking the tip of his cigarette with a put upon attitude, "I don't do doughnuts. You think so little of me, sweetpea." 

He says sweetpea like you're the cutest thing on earth. You nudge him mildly and stub your cigarette out on top of the square black bin, half-smoked. "I better go home."

"Working tonight?" 

"No, I finally have a night off. Got a ton of stuff I need to do, but it shouldn't take long." You lift your arms into the air and stretch your sore shoulders, angled away from him to avoid giving him a show of the world's ugliest yawn.  

"Wanna get something to eat?" 

You hurt your jaw trying to stop your yawn midway through, arms falling flat to your thighs. Sirius isn't looking at you, gaze on the vamp mobile, smoke curling like a ribbon between his fingers. He has nicely shaped hands, very boney in the sharp way but still rather inviting, when you think about it. 

"Now?" you ask. 

"Tonight. If you want to, I'll take you out." He takes another drag, eyes flaring in time with the ash. "Don't act like you don't know," he says through the exhale. 

"Know what, Black?" you ask. 

"That I'm mad for you." 

You're suddenly and deeply aware of how you look, a mess after practice, hair straggled from its styling, face without any make up. There's nothing wrong with the way you look, but when you picture someone on Sirius' arm, it's never you. You fiddle with your jacket zipper, voice low, "I didn't know that." 

"I don't believe you." He's not accusatory, simply stating a fact. Sirius stubs his cigarette out next to yours, black hair ruffled in the wind, the scent of him adrift. He smells like smoke, of course, but there's a nicer woodiness beneath it. "I'll take the way you're looking at me as a solid maybe. You can text me." 

"No, I mean. Yeah. I mean–" You stammer as Sirius laughs warmly. "I'll text you. If you really are mad for me." 

"Want me to prove it?" he asks. 

Your lips part of their own accord. You look like a deer-in-the-headlights for sure, completely stopped by the implication. Even the thought of a kiss from his has your pulse capering hard. His hands cold from the rink pressed gently to the warmer stretch of your collar, slipping into the hemline, curling behind your neck as he steps close. You can't summon the kiss itself, too close to bursting, because what would you do? Where would you put your hands? Is there a specific place? 

"Don't look so nervous," he murmurs, his eyebrows pinching ever so slightly together. "I'm not gonna jump you." 

"It's not like that, I just don't know…" 

"About us?" he asks. "That's why I'm trying to ask you on a date. You can make your mind up about us and I'll help you bulk for sectionals."

"I don't need bulking," you say. 

He laughs. "No, you're perfect. Beside your bad habit, that is. We have that in common." Sirius steps forward, pauses. "Can I kiss your cheek?" 

His asking is the last straw. You're melted like a slush curl. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Sirius kisses your cheek gently, and then he tucks his face against the side of your head and gives you a hug. "Text me, yeah? If you want." He peels back to grin at you. "I have to go back in. Elite league won't win itself. Talk to you later, doll."

You watch him retreat back into the centre, not sure what you want to do first; text him, or smoke another cigarette. In the end, you decide against the cigarette. If he's really going to prove how mad he is for you, you don't want to taste like smoke. 

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“So you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" I Andrei Svechnikov

Summary; Andrei is keen on asking you out, but considering the typical traits of famous hockey players, you've made a mental note never to be swept off your feet by any of them.

Tropes & warnings; No warnings; reader's working for the Carolina Hurricanes; sort of friends-to-lovers; just fluff really

Other notes; Alrighty babes, so next up for the 500 followers celebration we've got none other than #37 Andrei S. 💓 Truth be told, I wanted to do something like an enemies-to-lovers thing, but I just couldn't with this sweetheart 😉 Still, I hope you like it

Word count; 1.9K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

Another night. Another home game. Another round of work.

You had been working with the Carolina Hurricanes for a few years, and even though you were just an assistant helping with game preparations and clean-up, you felt like nothing less than a part of the hockey family. The players were always friendly, treating you like one of their own, and you simply enjoyed the camaraderie, the playful teasing, and the way they appreciated your hard work.

Some players had even grown closer to you than others, and one in particular stood out: Andrei Svechnikov. It wasn't just his skills on the ice but also how he seemed genuinely interested in you.

From the moment Andrei had seen your sweet smile, he’d been captivated. He admired how you handled your tasks with efficiency and grace, always ready with a kind word or a quick joke. And over time, his crush only grew stronger, yet he didn’t know how to make a move. So he just watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing all the little things: the way you bit your lip when you were focused, the way you laughed with your whole body, and the way your eyes sparkled when you were amused. All these small details only intensified his feelings.

And while not entirely knowing how to handle his own feelings, he, like many young guys on the team, resorted to occasional flirting, trying to get your attention without coming on too strong. He’d make sure to catch your eye during practice, offering a wink or a smile, and he’d find excuses to talk to you, asking for your help with something trivial just to hear your voice. Sometimes, he’d even leave small gifts in your work area – a protein bar, a coffee, a note with a silly drawing – always signed with a simple "A."

You, however, weren’t easily impressed. You knew the reputation hockey players had and had no intention of becoming another story in their dating history. You’d heard the tales of their exploits and the endless parade of girls vying for their attention, and you simply didn’t need to be another notch on anyone’s bedpost, least of all a professional athlete’s. Besides, you liked your job and didn’t want to complicate things with a messy romance.

Yet, despite your resolve, there was something about Andrei that intrigued you. Maybe it was the way he seemed genuinely kind and respectful, never pushing boundaries. Or perhaps it was how he listened when you talked, giving you his full attention as if you were the only person in the room. There were even moments when you caught yourself watching him, appreciating the way he moved, the determination in his eyes, the easy grace with which he handled himself both on and off the ice.

But  sill, you kept your guard up, distancing yourself with playful banter and cheeky remarks. Whenever he tried to flirt, you’d respond with a teasing comment, deflecting his advances with a laugh, as it was just easier that way, safer. You didn’t want to risk getting hurt, and you certainly didn’t want to become just another girl on his life.

Andrei, on the other hand, was determined to show you he wasn’t like the rest. He was so much more, and his feelings for you meant something to him. He respected your boundaries, never pushing too hard, and always making sure you were comfortable. His patience was unwavering, and his interest in you was steadfast, so he wanted to prove that he was different and that he cared for you in a way that went beyond superficial attraction.

And the challenge only made him more determined, as he found himself thinking about you more and more. How could he show you that he was serious, that he was genuinely interested in who you were, not just what you looked like? It was a question that kept him up at night, but one he was determined to answer. So, he continued his quiet pursuit, hoping that one day, you’d see him for who he truly was.

However, your defence mechanism didn’t make it easier for him. Your playful banter and cheeky remarks were a strategy that allowed you to maintain a comfortable distance. So when Andrei commented your work, it only made it more difficult for him to get past your walls. Every time he approached you with a compliment, you’d respond with a teasing, “Careful, Svechnikov, flattery may help with ladies out there, but in here, it will get you nowhere.” Even if he simply asked about your day, you’d throw in a cheeky, “Why, planning to steal my job?”

It wasn’t easy for Andrei to make a proper move on you, but as time went on, he kept his hopes high. He even practised a few English phrases that might help when the day finally came for him to ask you out.

And fortunately, that day wasn’t too far away.

_

One evening, as you were packing up equipment after a game, Andrei lingered nearby, as he’d often done before. The locker room was mostly empty, with the other players having already left or showered, and that’s when he gathered the courage to approach you, his usual confidence mingling with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey, need any help with that?" he offered, his accent colouring his words charmingly.

You looked up, slightly surprised that he hadn’t left like everyone else. "Oh, Andrei, you don’t have to do that. I’m almost done anyway." You flashed him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but smile in return, leaning against the doorway. "I don’t mind. Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

And that made you raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Oh? What about?"

Andrei hesitated for a moment before gently stepping closer to you, leaving only about a metre and a half between you. "I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. Just us. Maybe dinner?"

You chuckled, shaking your head slightly. "Why?"

It wasn’t an immediate no, he thought to himself, though he felt a slight disappointment when you questioned his intentions.

"So we could spend some time alone together," he emphasised, trying to flash a confident smirk, hiding any hints of nervousness.

However, that only made you think one thing.

"What... is this a bet or something? You ask me out on a date, and you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" You grinned slightly, convinced that the other boys had set him up to it or something.

Andrei's face immediately turned bright red, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. "No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I just... I really like you y/n, and I want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players. I promise."

You studied his face for a moment, trying to see any hints of falseness or sincerity in his eyes. And so, for a moment, you let your guard down, sensing he might actually be different. "Hmm… Alright, Andrei. One dinner. But if you try anything, you’ll be back to carrying your own gear. Got it?"

He couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over him. "Got it. I’ll be on my best behaviour."

And as you finished packing up, Andrei helped, and the two of you exchanged playful banter. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth giving a chance.

---

The next day, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming dinner more than you’d like to admit. You replayed the conversation in your mind: the way his eyes lit up when you agreed, the genuine relief in his smile. And it was enough to make you wonder if perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

And when the evening finally arrived, Andrei gallantly picked you up, looking more nervous than you had ever seen him.

“Wow, you look… krasivaya…” he muttered under his breath as his English failed him.

“Thanks,” you smiled softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you felt your cheeks blush slightly at his compliment. “You look quite good yourself.”

Standing there in the outfit you’d chosen for the night, it seemed that everything was suddenly changing, feeling more soft and romantic compared to the friendly banter you’d been playing at for months, if not years. Similarly, Andrei had chosen to dress up, trading his usual team gear for a smart, casual outfit that suited him well. 

And aware of your fondness for casual dinners, the restaurant he had chosen was a cosy Italian place, far from the glitzy spots the players usually frequented. It was intimate, with soft lighting and a warm atmosphere that quickly put you both at ease.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered sides of Andrei you hadn’t seen before. And as the night went on, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you had been too quick to judge. Andrei was different from the image you had of a typical hockey player, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that this could actually be the start of something special.

Throughout dinner, he was nothing but attentive, asking questions and genuinely listening to your answers. He shared stories from his childhood in Russia, his journey to the NHL, and the challenges he faced along the way. In turn, you found yourself opening up more than you expected, sharing your own dreams and fears. 

So when the evening slowly drew to a close, Andrei naturally walked you back to your place. And as often happens in situations like this, there was a moment of hesitation at your door, both of you lingering, not quite ready to say goodbye.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you admitted, surprising yourself with the honesty in your voice. Your eyes were locked on his, a new form of intimacy connecting you both as you’d enjoyed the evening more than you’d expected, just the two of you and away from hockey.

“So did I,” Andrei replied, his eyes softening as he looked at you. He couldn’t help but feel the intensity of the pull he felt towards you, yet he also reminded himself to be patient and, as he’d promised, be on his best behaviour. So, he restrained himself, settling to only imagine what it’d feel like having your lips against his. Instead, he took a deep breath before continuing, “I meant what I said, you know. I like you and want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players—at least, I try not to be.”

You couldn’t suppress a timid smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’m starting to believe that.”

It was the truth. The evening with Andrei had been nothing short of amazing, and the more you got to know him, the more you started to trust his intentions. And just like that, as if drawn by a magnetic pull, you slowly and very gently leaned in towards him, closing the small gap between you as you let your lips delicately touch his.

It was brief, almost innocent, as you shared this sweet, intimate moment. And as you then slowly pulled back, you couldn’t help but bite your lip, mentally hoping that next time, he wouldn’t be on his best behaviour.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Your Throne Awaits (Kinktober)

Word Count: 2.1k

Auston Matthews, a professional hockey player, woke up leisurely on a comfortable king-sized bed, his arm instinctively seeking out the form beside him. A smile tugged at his lips as he found you in his sleepy state, his longtime girlfriend, still asleep, your soft breaths mixing with the early morning silence. The sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. He shifted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling closer to him. You slowly opened your eyes, feeling the warmth of Auston's body against yours. You smiled sleepily, turning towards him and snuggling into his embrace. "Good morning…" You murmured softly, your voice still thick with sleep. Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his skin under your touch. "Good morning, beautiful," Auston murmured, his deep voice filled with affection. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that sent shivers down your spine. His hand slid lower, caressing the curve of your hip before settling on the small of your back, pressing your bodies flush together. Auston pulled away slightly, his blue eyes darkening with desire as he gazed at you. "I could get used to waking up like this every day," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip teasingly.

You giggled, a playful sparkle in your eye as you returned his gaze. "Well, I hope so," You said with a mischievous grin, your hands wandering further south, tracing the lines of his toned abs. "Because I plan on keeping you around for a long time." You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, looking down at him with a sultry expression. Your hair fell around your shoulders in messy waves, adding to the allure of the moment. Auston let out a low chuckle, his hands moving to cup your face gently. "And I have no intention of leaving," he assured you, his voice a mix of sincerity and lust. He tilted your head back slightly, planting another heated kiss on your neck, right where it met your shoulder. His hands moved from your face to your breasts, palming them appreciatively as he began to knead your flesh, his thumbs circling over your nipples until they hardened under his touch. A soft moan escaped your lips as Auston's skilled hands worked their magic on your sensitive breasts. You arched your back, pushing your chest further into his grasp, craving more of his touch. Your own hands roamed over his muscular torso, exploring every inch of him as if you hadn't done so a thousand times before. You felt a familiar heat building between your thighs, a sign that you were ready for more than just tender morning kisses. With a seductive smile, you rolled onto your back, drawing Auston on top of you. "Show me what else you've got planned for today," you purred, your legs parting invitingly as you awaited his next move.

Auston grinned down at you, his eyes alight with desire as he positioned himself between your spread thighs. His hands traveled down your sides, skimming over your hips before gripping your thighs firmly. He leaned forward, his mouth descending upon one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. His tongue swirled around the hard nub, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. One of his hands left your thigh to slide between your folds, finding your wetness without hesitation. His finger slipped inside you, curving upward to stroke that spot that made your entire body quiver with need. "I've got an idea on how to pamper my favorite girl." The sensation of Auston's finger inside you was enough to make your toes curl. You threw your head back, exposing the length of your neck, which you knew he loved to kiss. "Mmm… keep going," You breathed out, your voice laced with arousal. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you held him close to your breast. You rocked your hips against his hand, encouraging him to delve deeper, to explore every inch of your inner walls. Auston added a second finger, scissoring them inside you as he pumped them in and out at a steady pace. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in circular motions that had you seeing stars. He lavished attention on your nipple with his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking it with his tongue. As he felt you getting closer to your climax, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more. He rose up on his knees, positioning himself onto his back again before he tugged you close as he grinned up at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

You didn't hesitate, climbing onto Auston's body and straddling his face eagerly. You grasped his hair, guiding his mouth to your dripping center. As soon as his tongue touched you, you let out a loud moan, your hips rocking forward to meet his ministrations. Auston devoured you hungrily, his tongue probing deep inside you while his nose rubbed against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You rode his face with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of his oral skills. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Auston sucked hard on your clit. Auston gripped your ass tightly, holding you in place as he licked and suckled your sensitive nub. He could feel your thighs trembling, knowing you were close to your peak. He slipped two fingers back inside you, pumping vigorously as he continued his assault on your clit. The combination of sensations proved too much, and you shattered above him, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. Auston lapped at your essence, prolonging your pleasure until the last tremor subsided. "You're so fucking sexy when you come undone," he growled, "I need to taste you again." Your body was still shaking from your climax as you tried to catch your breath. But the look in Auston's eyes told you there was more to come. You lowered yourself back onto his face, spreading your legs wide as you allowed him full access to your throbbing pussy. His tongue delved into you once more, swirling and flicking with expert precision. You moaned loudly, each sound echoing off the walls of your bedroom. Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into the sheets beneath you. You could tell by the way Auston was devouring you that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

Your hips started to grind against Auston's face, riding his tongue and fingers with a rhythm all your own. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you even more desperate for release. You reached down, grabbing hold of his hair and guiding his movements, ensuring he hit every spot that drove you crazy. You were teetering on the edge once again, your whole body tensed in anticipation of your impending orgasm. "Auston!" You cried out his name, your voice laced with raw need. Auston doubled his efforts, sucking harder on your clit as he thrust his fingers deep inside you. He could feel your muscles clenching around him, signaling your impending climax. "Let go, baby," he urged, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "Come all over my face." With those words, you tumbled over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with the force of a hurricane. You screamed Auston's name, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Auston lapped at your essence, drinking in every drop as he prolonged your ecstasy. Finally, he gentled his touch, licking you clean as you slowly came down from your high. He looked up at you with a satisfied smirk, his face glistening with your juices. "You're insatiable, you know that?" As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded away, you collapsed onto Auston's chest, panting heavily. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. "And you love every minute of it," You replied with a satisfied giggle. You lifted your head to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You pulled back slightly, grinning at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Your turn now," You whispered, sliding down his body until you were kneeling between his legs.

After a few moments, he lifted his head, grinning up at you with satisfaction. "Morning sex is always the best," he teased, his voice husky with arousal. Auston watched you with hooded eyes as you settled between his legs, his cock standing at attention, begging for your touch. He bit his lower lip, anticipating the feeling of your mouth on him. "I'm all yours, baby," he said huskily, his voice thick with desire. He reached down, running his fingers through your hair, urging you closer to his aching member. "Well then, I guess we better not waste any more time." You leaned down, your warm breath ghosting over the sensitive tip before taking it into your mouth. The taste was intoxicating, and you savored it, letting your tongue swirl around the head before taking more of Auston into your mouth. Your hands moved to grip Auston’s hips, holding onto him as you began to move, setting a rhythm that had you both moaning in pleasure. Auston let out a low groan, his back arching off the bed as he felt the warmth of your mouth enveloping him. His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you deeper, reveling in the sensation of being completely under your control. "Fuck, just like that…" he breathed out, his voice strained with need. His other hand trailed down to cup your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled you even closer to him. You continued to suck Auston's cock, your lips sliding along the shaft as your tongue swirled around the head. You could feel his heartbeat pounding in his cock, matching the rhythm of your own. Your hands gripped his hips tightly as you bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper each time. You could hear Auston's ragged breathing and the soft sounds he made as you pleasured him.

Auston's moans grew louder, more urgent, as you worked him over with your talented mouth. His hips started to buck up to meet your movements, seeking more friction, and more pressure. "Oh god, baby… I'm getting close," he warned, his words punctuated by sharp intakes of breath. His fingers were now tangled in your hair, tugging gently but insistently, urging you to take him faster, harder. The room filled with the lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh and Auston's increasing desperation. Feeling Auston's growing urgency, you quickened your pace, sucking harder and faster. You took him deep your throat constricting around his throbbing length as you hollowed your cheeks. Your hands slid from his hips to cradle his balls, rolling them gently as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. "Come on, handsome," you murmured against his skin, your voice muffled by his girth. "Let me taste how much you want me." Auston's entire body tensed, his toes curling as he teetered on the edge of release. "Fuck…" he gasped, his voice breaking as he felt the familiar rush of orgasm building at the base of his spine. With a final, desperate tug of your hair, he surrendered to the sensations, his seed spilling hotly into your welcoming mouth. His cries echoed through the room, raw and unrestrained, as he rode out wave after wave of pleasure, riding the high of your skilled ministrations. You swallowed every drop of Auston's release, savoring the salty flavor and the primal satisfaction of bringing him such intense pleasure. As he slowly came down from his high, you released his spent cock from your mouth with a soft pop. You licked your lips, smacking them together in appreciation. "Mmm, delicious," you purred, looking up at him with a satisfied grin. You crawled up his body, pressing kisses along his chest and neck as you went. "How was that, babe?" you asked, nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder. "Did I make you feel good?"

Auston lay there panting, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he basked in the afterglow of your expert blowjob. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice still shaky from the intensity of his climax. He pulled you up for a kiss, tasting himself on your lips, a thrill running through him at the thought. "But don't think this means I'm done with you yet," he teased, his hands roaming over your body, eager to return the favor and bring you to your own peak of pleasure.

[grantmentis]

Made a post the other day about expectations for rookies / new players in the league and how harsh it seems to be compared to the nhl and I have more thoughts on this. I haven’t like really properly researched this though so consider it off the cuff and full of assumptions

The PWHL draft is in a weird place right now because half of the people in the draft are like, grown, and have extensive experience playing in another high level league. Even the True Rookies are usually 22 as top prospects (as opposed to the nhl where most top prospects are 18) and played extensively in the ncaa where I’d say the level of play in some strengths of schedule is closer to the PWHL than any other hockey league is to the nhl due to the fact that there is just a lot more leagues the men are drawing from (obviously quite a of PWHL players have at one point played auroraliiga or EWHL or DEFL etc, but most either got drafted directly from the SDHL or NCAA or in the case of last year the PHF.) we only have One True Draft and half a season of those players in the league to go off of, and a decent % of those players have made an immediate impact, or at least be a good player, which makes it easy to go “hey why is my player not doing that.” I’ve seen this concern about Julia Gosling, for example, who of course gets the misfortune of being compared to Fillier and Thompson and Barnes

The PWHL schedule being so short doesn’t help either. A player struggling for five games in the nhl is just way less of a problem in terms of season impact than a player struggling for five games in the PWHL where that’s, like, a sixth of the season, even though it’s the same passage of time. This can definitely lead to fans being harsher

Still - I think it’s important to remember that no there is basically no ramp up to the PWHL and the ability to do what Fillier and Thompson are doing is rarer than it feels right now. We will probably see this more as the years go on and drafts become more “normal” that it’s less that Fillier or Thompson’s performance should be the norm for first rounders but more than they are exceptions and not the rule. Players right now barely get any time to get acclimated to their team before the season starts and the environment for training camp / preseason / where you’re fighting to have a job at all vs in the nhl where most are fighting between ahl and nhl, is very different. Teams are still figuring out their identity and their on ice systems, which makes it harder for players to adjust to a team that is still being defined. Additionally, teams don’t have the most coherent drafting strategy right now because of that nor do they have extensive scouting departments yet so they don’t have the tools to help a player adjust, either. For the franchise cornerstone players like Fillier, the team is going to build around her, but for someone like gosling going to a team where Nurse and Spooner and Watts have already claimed the top offensive roles, that’s not going to be the case. Finally, the true rookie players have to adjust to the pace of the game and what being a full time hockey player is, schedule wise. Just like you and me after college graduation, they are doing all this while learning how to be an adult.

The PWHL is already pretty “sink or swim” because there’s no place to go for development at the pro level while staying on contract, but there got to be some lenience to letting these players develop at the pro level and investing in them and that means they may not be producing for a while or make dumb mistakes and that’s pretty normal. Even the players coming in with professional experience need time to adjust, though they may be more equipped for the physical side of the game or the day to day grind of it all. And I’m not even getting into the “talent pool is quite a bit bigger than spots available especially if you’re a goaltender” thing

[cripplecharacters]

I’m a disabled person who had to give up sports after my disability developed. It was a pretty shitty thing so I wanted to write some characters with disabilities who still do sports. Because of the setting, there isn’t much accessibility, so I wanted to ask what sports would best suit a character with chronic pain and mobility issues without needing many accommodations?

Hello!

As with anything, the sports available to your character depends on the specific character and their experiences/situation as well as the setting. Both chronic pain and mobility issues are pretty wide spectrums.

That said, there are quite a few adaptive sports out there as well as sports that can be made possible/easier -- both with and without many accommodations.

I've had to stop doing sports as well and it was only very recently that I picked up archery again. Unfortunately hockey and rock climbing are still out of the question for me.

Archery is something that can be done while standing or sitting, if standing in one place for a while -- or standing in general -- is something your character struggles with. Seated archery -- as the name suggests -- is done while sitting, either in a wheelchair or a regular chair. I've also seen it being done while sitting on the ground in various positions but I imagine it'd be a bit different than regular seated archery.

One of the main differences between shooting standing versus shooting sitting down is the form and angle you use to shoot. When sitting, you have to aim upwards a bit more. You also want to sit more on the edge of the chair, with your body at a slight angle as opposed to standing fully perpendicular to the target.

Something to consider with archery is that it's hard on the joints. If this is a problem your character faces, they may need to consider using braces or adjusting the draw weight on their bow.

Aside from archery, a lot of single-player sports (For lack of a better term) can easily be made accessible -- at least in relation to chronic pain and mobility issues. Sports such as kayaking, bowling, marksmanship, hiking, etc. can be made easier with small adjustments/accommodations on your character's end.

Such accommodations could include wearing braces, orthotics, etc. while participating in the sport; using ice, pain meds, heat packs, etc. afterwards to ease and/or prevent pain; or making adjustments to the sport itself such as sitting to shoot a bow or gun, taking a shorter route and/or frequent breaks while hiking, etc.

Some sports can also be beneficial for some disabilities. Swimming, for example, is frequently recommended for people with arthritis, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, hypermobility disorders, and other joint issues. This is mainly because the activity helps to strengthen muscles that support those joints while the water takes some of the pressure and stress off the joints. I'd definitely recommend looking at aqua therapy (Also called 'water therapy', 'aquatic therapy', 'swim therapy', 'hydrotherapy', etc.) if that's something your character could benefit from.

They may not work so well with your setting if there's not much in the way of accessibility but it could be worth looking into adaptive sports such as wheelchair basketball, sledge hockey, sitting volleyball, etc. -- even if it's just to take inspiration from how they're set up. If you're looking for somewhere to get started, this article [Link] talks about some adaptive sports and ways to make other sports adaptive/accessible.

I'd also suggest taking a look for disabled athletes on social media as a lot of them (Especially those who are just starting out) make their own accommodations to the sport to make it easier on them. While there is a lot of equipment out there for adaptive sport, a lot of it is unfortunately very expensive and a lot of us have had to make do with what we have or can otherwise easily acquire.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[macknshift]

THE ONE WHERE . . . I INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO LEO!

SOOOO…i have mentioned leo in like, 90 different posts atp and never actually made a "leo intro" (mainly bc i have weird feelings ab sharing him heavily to the rest of the world lol) but! i figured now would be the best time to get into explaining him to y'all.

LEO , commonly given the last name SCOTT (depends on the dr!) is actually originally the main character's love interest in a hockey romance book i've been in the process of writing. after getting #sickandtired of annoying ass book men i gave up and began drafting one of my own. the main character is literally me (i mean, for christ's sake her name is sloane mackintosh,) and eventually, i began thinking of him in other "au"s (i used to do this a lot on wattpad - i mean DRs but the term AU is usually more digestible to ppl that may not be aware of reality shifting. Anyways.) and began kind of placing him in everything. a list of the drs he is my love interest in is follows;

BETTER CR : (fc silasj2004*) the hockey romance book pretty much as a dr. small changes occur but basically he's the exact same as leo in the book lol

PARENT DR : (fc jack schlossberg. yes. i am one of those girlies. i am not ashamed! at least he has morals + a backbone y'all this could be much worse) the "backstory" is my better cr dr. i'm now a mother of 3 (amelia or mimi, aged 5, giselle or gigi, aged 4 and i'm pregnant with vincenzo, our final kid,) and it follows our life after what would be the events of the book. i sort-of made it also as like a WAG dr in a sense bc leo is a professional hockey player! (but he retires 2 years before this point in time so idk where my thought process is w this lol)

FORMULA 1 DRIVER DR : (fc pato o'ward MY!!!! mclaren man ln4 U ARE NOTHINGGGGGGG) leonardo dempsey, son of actor patrick dempsey (my forever celebrity crush ugh he's so fine) and driver for aston martin aramco f1 team under #99. i essentially took l*nce str*ll's daddy's boy backstory and gave it to leo bc he is indeed a daddy's boy. the only dr leo and i are enemies to lovers bc i'm too obsessed w him otherwise LMFAO

MARVEL DR : (fc marcello hernandez (MY MAAANNNN)) leo scott, secretly the speedster superhero 'comet'. hired by my dad as essentially a bodyguard (leo's not intimidating AT ALL idek how the hell this is supposed to work LMFAO) as comet and knows me out of costume as his sister's roommate (mj is also in every dr ever and actually is here in this cr. i can never leave her out i love her DOWN) basically marichat vibes (god i miss marichat)

POP STAR DR : (fc marcello hernandez, again) leo sinatra, nepo baby great-grandson of frank sinatra (there's a whole, incredibly large bit of lore ab this LMFAO + he's also a great-grandson in my better cr dr too bc i need my man RICH!) and Saturday Night Live cast member. basically i go on snl and immediately fall in love. i've stolen the 'unlikely couple' weekend update sketch for us & he does domingo, which is my song lol we're funny for it idk

THE FCS, in color photos:

i'm missing like, 18 other drs that i can think of but some important info about him;

he's half oaxacan mexican. i've tried my damnedness to find a way to make it obvious but when i was 'designing' him (aka drawing him out) i used jack, silas (*NOTE: he is leo's typical fc if i don't have an designated one for him) and marcello as references to make him look the most like him as i can. the fcs are kind of loose for him but i need a way to like fully visualize him. so. yeah. his 'color palette' (weird way to put it but idk how else) makes him tanner than all three of them i fear. all of the fcs i use (other than jack schlossberg but like. idk his main celebrity lookalike in the better cr is him so i kind of had to) are latino, but i feel like it never ever properly translates when i talk about him bc his name is fucking leopold scott. like. huh.

he's also tall AS FUCK lol and built like a tank lowkey (think tom welling clark kent GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY) but it's mainly bc he's a hockey player. in every vers he's like. 6'3. shortest he is is w marcello as his fc and even then he's 5'11. (note in pop star dr he gets a lot of comparisons to jacob elordi for some reason??? idk my fans are weird)

he's got big brown baby cow eyes. every. single. time. like that is this man's defining trait and you know what? i would not change that for the world lol

his position in hockey is a goalie! he uses the number #29 and plays for our college and later for the new jersey devils before being traded to the anaheim ducks. after he retires he becomes a firefighter!!!! (which is sooo hot btw)

[stormsplurge]

happy tears overflowing, lightning bolts so overwhelming

warnings: slight smut at the end, just fem receiving oral, 18+ read at your own risk

pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader

inspired by anime eyes by kacey musgraves <3

1192 words

a/n: this is my first time writing x reader smut and my first time writing x reader stuff in a whiiiiile so i apologize if this is rough. regardless, i hope you enjoy!

“seth.” you said, putting down the knife you were chopping vegetables with, “i can feel your eyes staring a hole in the back of my head.”

“if you want me to stop you should try being less beautiful.” he replied.

before you could open your mouth to reply, he’d made his way across the kitchen and pulled you away from the counter. 

“seth!” you shrieked as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into the air. 

you two had been spending the last week in minnesota, spending time with burnzie’s family and enjoying the last bits of summer before you had to get back to carolina. it was through burnzie, actually, that you’d met seth. he was a frequent customer at the animal shelter you worked at, eventually becoming a volunteer, and one of your friends.

you’d organized an adoption event, trying to find some of the pets forever homes and make room for new rescues, and burnzie offered to bring his “friends” as volunteers. he’d forgotten to mention those friends were a bunch of professional hockey players. 

seth had immediately caught your eye. his gap-toothed smile and infectious laughter, but also the edges of his shoulder tattoo peeking out from the edge of his t-shirt sleeves. everything about him was drawing you in, by the time he’d brought you adoption papers to sign off on you knew he’d had you.

“you’re adopting lulu?” you questioned, petting the gorgeous pitbull puppy in his arms.

“if it’s okay.” he responded, focusing his eyes away from the dog and looking into yours for approval.

“of course it’s okay” you said, “i’m so glad she’s finding her forever home. she’s been in the shelter for forever.”

“do you think i could get your number?” he quickly replied, before adding a “so i can text you if i have any questions about, yknow, lulu.”

“jarvis.” you chirped. “if you wanted my number you could have just asked, you didn’t need to adopt a puppy.”

“i know… but lulu was looking at me with her sad puppy dog eyes i couldn’t just leave her here.”

oh god, you thought. i’m fucked.

——

seth asked you out not even a week later.

he’d managed to get his hands on your work schedule and sent a flower every hour, all eight hours you were all at work. at first it was a daisy, with a note attached with only the word “go” you on it. next came a lily, with a note saying “out”. eventually leaving you with eight different flowers spelling out “go out with me please, love seth.” and a mystery address attached to the final one.

everything about the date was perfect, he’d found a secluded park where you wouldn’t be bothered by anybody and set up a picnic. every snack you’d offhandedly mentioned while you two had been texting, all of your favorite foods, everything you could think of was laid out on the blanket.

“oh seth…” you marveled. “you didn’t have to do this all for me.”

“of course i did.” he said, matter of factly. “my mom raised me to never half-ass anything, especially when it comes to a beautiful woman.”

“how’d you even think of this.”

“well burnzie mentioned that you’d been stressed out at work, and aho told me his girlfriend thinks this park is really romantic. so, yeah.”

“i love it.” you said, placing your hand on top of his, where it sat resting on his thigh. “thank you.”

——

from there the rest was history, the last year you’d spent with seth had been some of the best of your life. every minute of your day was filled with love, from lulu’s morning kisses to the daily texts you would get from jarvy as soon as practice was over. everything about it was perfect. 

“seth.” you said as he gently placed you on the counter. “i love you.”

“i know.” he mused, tilting your chin up and placing a kiss on your lips. 

“we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you whispered as his lips trailed over your jaw and onto your neck. “anyone could walk in at any second.”

“they wont be back for another couple of hours, i promise.” he replied as he placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up. you looped your arms around his neck, letting him carry you into the guestroom. 

the kisses were unrelenting at this point. your neck, your collarbones, the spot above your belly button. slowly making his way down to the edge of your shorts. 

“can i?” he asked, waiting for a yes to leave your lips before hooking his finger under the waistband and pulling the fabric down. the energy in the room had quickly turned from comforting to intense, seth’s eyes focusing exclusively on you. 

“you are so beautiful.” he breathes out between kisses, letting the stubble on his cheeks scratch against your inner thighs. 

“you don’t have to keep saying that.” you reply as he brings his tongue to your pussy.

seth aproached sex the same way he did hockey. making every second count, every move having an end goal. on the ice this meant helping his team and scoring goals, and in the bedroom it meant making sure you always felt good. 

you moaned his name as he inched his middle finger farther into you, bringing your hands to his hair and wrapping your fingers in the slight curls that formed at the nape of his neck. 

“you should, ah-, shave the sides again.” you whined, twitching with every slight movement he made. 

“bring back the mullet?” he chuckled, pushing his ring finger in as he spoke. “what about racing stripes should i do those too?”

a yes slipped out of your lips, followed quickly by seth pumping his fingers in and out of you at a desperate pace. his mouth made it’s way to your core as you felt yourself begin to unravel, rapidly reaching your peak.

“seth.” you moaned, throwing your head back. “i’m so close.”

“i know baby, you’re doing so good for me.” 

you were seeing stars, forgetting that you were in someone else’s house, panting and moaning and whining as loud as you could. the pressure in-between your legs growing until you couldn’t take it anymore, coming with seths name on your lips and his head in between your legs.

he was grinning at you from the edge of the bed, already back to his giggly self.

“i love you so much.” he said, making his way up the bed and tucking your hair between your ear.

you shushed him as you brought your hands to his cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. if it were any other day you’d happily go for another round, but the sun was getting to you so you just rolled seth onto his side and burrowed yourself in his chest. the smell of sweat and deodorant pulling you into him. as you felt your eyes begin to grow heavier you felt him drape a blanket over the two of you.

“i love you too.” 

[puckpocketed]

So do you actually believe PLD is a good player or is that part of the bit?

The PLD Post

i spent a good 2 days giggling about this to friends. i cant tell if ur a curious caps fan, a person who knows me from my other teams, a disgruntled kings fan (i’ve mostly ruled this out because im pretty sure i know all of the active ones on here) or WHAT. but i’m laughing. the tone of this ask is hilarious and vaguely accusatory but i will take it in good faith and answer <3 tl;dr yes and no. he’s better than people think he is rn, but he’s likely never going to live up to the potential of his tools unless something . idk. recalibrates his entire being. who knows!

i was working on something longer and more complex but i thought about it for more than 5 seconds and i REFUSE to go hockey-bro mode and pull out the microstats and i don’t wanna make this into a full on PLD manifesto. so. caps girlies (gn) HERE are your adoption papers under the cut!

if you are looking at pierre luc dubois who is 6’4 + 220lb and thinking “Oh he’s a power forward” i have to inform you he is in fact THEEE smallest mouse to ever play hockey in the whole world and in all of history. he sips nectar out of a thimble and sleeps curled up in a match box and goes fishing in a boat made from nutshells and twigs . he’s big, but he sort of plays small.

this is not necessarily a bad thing — he relies on foot speed and skill over hitting.

he can throw hits but prefers to stick check. he leverages his big frame to guard the puck and to defend, and it makes him simultaneously VERY effective and very much what i like to call a Nexus Of Crime. he is either drawing ten thousand penalties because people have to do something to stop him from driving the net with speed OR he is taking ten thousand penalties because he gets eager in the corners.

PLUS he’s huge and refs do just assume he’s committing a crime when they can’t see what’s going on <3 hence, Nexus Of Crime! if there’s a penalty he’s probably involved LMAO

not a “dirty” player by any means. not physical unless he decides he wants to. and there is no violence inside of him unless he’s deeply horsebonded to his team <- IMPORTANT re; playoffs aspirations. you won’t see him put himself on the line simply for the love of the game, he HAS to be committed to the team.

to be committed to his team… i’m honestly not sure what that takes. i’d guess a combination of knowing his role on the ice and in the locker room (this was very unclear on lak) consistency of messaging from coaches (also seemed to be an issue on lak)

i know nothing about caps coaching or management or the team vibes but i’m sure you can fix him <3 i’m ready to fall in love and ride this team to the sunset

this failhorse will NOT shoot the puck and if he does it will be the saddest soggiest most pathetic shot you’ve ever seen. you will tear your hair out in chunks if you watch him expecting an elite goalscorer.

he’s a pass-first guy. likes to drop pass! likes to drive play from the middle but is also capable of getting pucks off the boards. he needs a finisher on his wing. i could pull up stats here, there are stats to be pulled up, but i know this in my HEART from watching dozens of kings games: he would have had 10-15 more points easily if he wasn’t stapled to the 3rd line and had better finishers. many times i watched him tee up a very good opportunity only for his guy to miss the net or fan or just get knocked off the puck

individually, he thrives in front of the net. his ass is fat and he’s about to use it to screen the goalie. hes good at catching loose pucks in the crease to send them home <3 see his performance at worlds. he scored basically all of his goals right up there!!

most media coverage/narratives will tell you his point production dropped off bc of effort (which is true) but even the MOST resentful kings watchers will say pld wasn’t given his best shot playing with inexperienced+fringe nhlers, being line shuffled the moment he got a bit comfortable, and also not getting ANY net front time on the lak pp. i factor this into all my judgements of his performance.

He’s def earned his diva rep LMAO!! this is personal opinion here but he seems like a sensitive and easily rattled little clam… like he will have a couple of bad shifts and if there’s nobody there to shake him out of it he’ll lose his grasp on the game and play like shit <3 a rolling joke on kingstwt was figuring out which PLD we were getting that game, and you could tell by his 5th if he was switched on or off!!

they hate him for this but EYE think this is nothing new for athletes and if he can consistently stay in the zone he’ll probably be pretty good. mental fortitude of a wet tissue my beloved….

moving onto the Vibes section!! he was always good humoured in media availability and didn’t shy away from scrums even when public opinion soured against him and critiques of both his hockey and his character had reached a fever pitch. i like this about him. he always gave authentic answers and tried his best to accomodate them, and never hid behind his captains.

he gets along quite well with teammates despite the narratives. no seriously!! some of the the kings had a hang out during off-season right before they went to worlds!! there’s bisexual lighting!!!!

there’s interviews from old jets teammates that are just like. “he used to turn up at my house with his dog and text IM HERE with no warning and that’s how we became friends” or “his obsession with euro soccer teams bewitched me”. he had control of the aux cord. he was a den mother and planned group gatherings. a genuine sweetheart to every teammate he’s ever had!!

I don’t think he’s some. idk. secret 100 point producing star 1C. but i truly believe with the right environment he’ll probably hit 60 points again.

thank you for your time if you made it this far and i hope to see you all in the trenches (caps lb) next season 👍

[xxelliewxx]

Fire and Frost {Ellie x Reader} Chapter 6

Pairings: loser!(AFAB)Reader x hockey player!Ellie

Synopsis: When y/n is requested to tutor Ellie Williams in organic chemistry, she expects arrogance and attitude from the hockey player. However, she discovers a different aspect of Ellie’s tough exterior, revealed through humor and fleeting glances. This raises the question: why does Ellie go to great lengths to embarrass and harass y/n whenever they are in the presence of others?

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, sexual/physical assault, alcohol, violence, trauma (if I miss any let me know!)

w/c: 2.6k

an: this is my first time ever posting fanfic on Tumblr, so feedback is completely welcome! this is not proofread and is a work in progress.

Tungsten Core

The morning of your scheduled tutoring session with Ellie erupted into chaos right from the get-go when you overslept past your 06:30 alarm. The sound of Dina bustling around the apartment was the only thing that roused you from your slumber. Grabbing your phone from the bedside table, the glaring light revealed the time: 07:15. 

 Panic surged through you as your eyes widened in disbelief. You flung the blankets aside and burst through your bedroom door, racing to the bathroom to prepare. In a whirlwind, you applied just enough makeup to add a touch of vibrancy to your face. With your hair styled and looking decent, you dashed back to your room, rifling through your closet for an outfit that struck the right balance—something that said "I care" without screaming "look at me!"

Thoughts of the brunette lingered in your mind after last night, a constant blush painting your cheeks with warmth that refused to fade. You had always found Ellie undeniably attractive, even sexy as hell, but it was her sweet gestures that truly melted your heart, leaving you yearning for something deeper. 

 You chose a striking outfit: a red and black flannel shirt layered over a white crop top, paired with faded high-waisted jeans and classic Converse. The brisk morning air prompted you to grab your Carhartt beanie before spritzing on some perfume, hurrying out of your apartment in a flurry. You made it to your car in record time, opting to drive instead of walk since you were already running late. 

As you navigated the campus, you kept a careful eye on the speed limit, pushing your speed just enough to avoid drawing the attention of campus police. Getting pulled over would only complicate things further.

Arriving at the library, you shifted your car into park, snatched your backpack from the passenger seat, and hurried toward the entrance. As you dashed up the steps to the study area, you rounded the corner where the tables were set up, only to collide with a solid figure that nearly sent you sprawling. 

 Reeling back, your gaze met that of the stranger; it was Abby. Her firm grip reached out to catch you, saving you from making an even bigger spectacle. In your rush, you had overlooked her presence, causing the stack of books she was holding to crash to the floor, echoing through the otherwise quiet space and drawing irritated glances from fellow students. 

 Muttering a quick apology to the man who shot you a disapproving look, you turned your attention back to Abby. "I’m really sorry, Y/N. I thought you noticed me when you turned the corner."

Abby appeared just as flustered as you felt, which offered a small comfort. You placed your hand on her bicep and grinned, "Abby, I'm the one tripping over my own feet, not you. I really need to be more aware of what's around me."

She let out a soft laugh, noticing your hand resting on her arm as she looked down at you, shifting the conversation. "So, are you here to study?"

Her gaze flicked to your backpack, then back to your lips before locking onto your eyes. Shaking your head gently, you answered, "Actually, I'm here to meet Ellie. I'm tutoring her in organic chemistry."

Abby's brow knitted together at your words as she turned to glance at her teammate, who was sitting nearby. Following her gaze, you were met with a fierce glare that made your heart race, the anger in her deep green eyes sending a jolt through you. Your hand, which had been resting on Abby's arm, fell away as if it had touched fire, prompting the blonde to turn back and look at you once more.

"Coach had mentioned to me that she was getting tutored, she didn't say it was you doing it though. Knowing it's you helping her I'm confident she'll ace her next test." The playful grin she shot your way made your own smile bloom, diverting your focus from the glares aimed in your direction.

"I really appreciate it, Abby. It's nice that you gave faith in me."

“Hey, I’ve got a meeting with Coach soon, but it was great to see you again! You’re always welcome at the hockey house." Abby squeezed your shoulder affectionately before heading off. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you made your way to the table where the hockey player awaited your arrival. 

Ellie was fixated on the textbook in front of her, her eyes boring into the pages as if they held the answers to the universe, completely disregarding your greeting as you settled into the chair opposite her. The chill radiating from her made you clear your throat, feeling the weight of her silence. To distract yourself, you began fiddling with your new iPad, scrolling through your note-taking apps in search of something to ease the tension.

As the silence lingered, your irritation simmered just beneath the surface. "Ellie, I can't keep playing this back-and-forth with you. It's giving me whiplash, and I’m not sure how much more I can take."

Ellie shot you a fierce look, her grip on the pen tightening to the point where it seemed ready to snap. "You're late."

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Thanks for the newsflash, Captain Obvious. I couldn't have figured that out on my own." Frustration bubbled up as you realized she just didn’t grasp the reasons behind your tardiness. Every explanation you offered fell flat, and just when you were about to throw in the towel, she finally broke the silence.

"You wouldn't have been as late if you wouldn't have stopped to flirt with my teammate." 

Your eyes widened in disbelief at her accusation. "What are you talking about?"

Ellie let her pen slip from her fingers, resting her hand on her cheek as a playful smile danced across her lips. With a teasing tone, she imitated your voice, saying, "Wow, Abby, your biceps are looking impressively strong today! If only I could lounge around and admire you all day, but alas, I have to tutor your hopeless teammate."

You were utterly taken aback; that’s the only way to capture the whirlwind of chaos unfolding around you. What the fuck is happening?? Words escaped you as frustration surged, pushing aside your initial bewilderment. "Just so you know, Ellie, I was actually apologizing for smashing into her. And for the record, I don’t talk like that."

As you cast your gaze toward your iPad, you sensed her unwavering stare locked onto you. "Bet you want her to smash you."

You slammed your iPad onto the table, shooting her a fierce look. "What the fuck is your problem? Even if I've considered it, it's not your concern. You don't control me, Ellie; we aren't even friends."

Ellie's mouth parted as if to speak, but she quickly closed it, shaking her head and avoiding your gaze. The silence lingered, and frustration bubbled within you as you started to gather your things. Suddenly, a tattooed hand shot across the table, halting your actions, and a rich, earthy aroma enveloped you from her proximity.

"Please don't go, I'm sorry." You gazed at her hand, weighing your options, as a wave of feelings surged within you, threatening to spill over. A single tear rolled down your face, only to be tenderly wiped away by her soft touch.

The hockey player pulled her hand back, creating distance between you, her fragrance still hanging in the air. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm really trying my best here. I'm sorry."

You were baffled; how could she be so fiery one moment and so distant the next? Her contradictory behavior left you dizzy. "Why don’t you like me?" The words slipped out before you could catch them.

"Huh?" Ellie either feigned ignorance or simply didn’t hear you, so you asked again, raising your voice and locking your gaze with hers.

"Why do you hate me?" Ellie fixed her gaze on you, her expression a blank slate, a puzzle waiting to be solved. Your inquiry hung in the air, unanswered, prompting you to elaborate, "Since that day, you've carried this—" you faltered, searching for the right term. "Contempt for me. Even after I said I was sorry and offered to cover your laundry expenses, you still seem to loathe me. Why is that?"

Ellie remained still, her silence deafening, her eyes locked onto yours. You had never witnessed her uncertainty before; she was always the embodiment of self-assurance. With a sigh, you resumed gathering your things. "Hold on!" Ellie exclaimed, stepping in front of you, blocking your path and halting your departure.

Tears streamed down your face, pooling at your chin as you stood there, waiting for the hockey player to find the words to explain herself. "I...I don't hate you, Y/N." 

You let out a bitter laugh, "You had me fooled."

Ellie threw her hand up to stop you from speaking anymore. "Y/N, I’m not trying to justify how I treated you. It was fucked up, and I fully acknowledge that. But I need you to understand that I don’t hate you. Not at all." The last part of her sentence barely escaped her lips, a whisper that you strained to catch.

"What?"

You tried to pry it from her but she shook her head. "Nothing, just know I don't hate you. Look, I have a captains' meeting at 9, and I completely get it if you choose not to help me. However, if you could stick around, I would appreciate it."

You chewed on your lip, contemplating your choices. Being around Ellie often drained you mentally, yet the comforting glow in your heart when she showed you kindness was utterly addicting. "Alright, I’ll stick around, but only if you agree to one thing."

Ellie nodded her head, "Anything."

"Before you decide you dislike me, I hope you'll take the time to understand who I really am. I wanna learn about you as well. These tutoring sessions can carry on for the entire semester if that’s what you need, but it all starts with getting to know each other first."

Ellie nodded her head in agreement, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Next time, just go ahead and ask me out." 

With a playful smack on her arm, you strolled back to your chair. "Sure, Williams, keep dreaming." You observed her settle into her seat once more, the neglected textbook on isomerism still splayed open before her. The irony struck you; isomerism perfectly mirrored your dynamic with Ellie. Both of you were stuck together in this tutoring arrangement, yet your methods and attitudes couldn't be more different. 

Ellie caught your laugh, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, but you brushed it off. "Do you need help with isomerism, or did you just randomly land on that part?"

The hockey player looked visibly flustered as she lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture, saying, "I really have no idea; it just doesn't make sense to me." 

Smiling at her you nodded your head in understanding, "Trust me it took me a bit to understand it too. Let me put it this way: isomerism occurs when molecules share the same chemical formula but are structured in distinct ways. These variations can result in different properties or reactions. Does that clarify things, or would you like me to provide an example?" 

 Ellie tilted her head slightly, "I think an example would be really helpful."

With a playful laugh, you remarked, "I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but let me share my viewpoint. Remember how we first crossed paths? We were both in organic chemistry, yet our responses to that moment were worlds apart. I instinctively apologized when I bumped into you, while you, on the other hand, sent my coffee flying, creating a mess all over my sweater."

This memory once weighed heavily on your mind, but as you grew closer to her, the anger from your past began to fade. Ellie let out an exasperated sigh at your comment, saying, "I get it now—I'm the asshole, and you're the sweetheart."

You stuttered at her compliment, your heart thudding in your chest, "W-well, I suppose that's one way to put it." A palpable energy filled the atmosphere, a kind of tension that, for a change, was not steeped in anger or animosity, but instead...perhaps attraction? 

Your gaze locked with those striking green eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. A wave of unease washed over you, deepening your apprehension about the possibility of becoming too emotionally invested. In that instant, it was as if every corny romantic comedy you and Dina used to sip wine and laugh about came to life. You were beyond fucked.

Ellie cleared her throat, redirecting her focus to the textbook in front of her, silently encouraging both of you to keep the session on track for studying rather than veering into flirtation. "As much as I love flirting with pretty girls, I only have a few minutes left until my meeting."

Nodding your head, doing your best to avoid her admittance to flirting, you turned back to the task at hand. The session carried on, both of you maintaining a facade of normalcy, as if there wasn't some kind of shift. You shared examples and tailored your explanations to ensure Ellie grasped the concepts completely, drawing on your limited knowledge of hockey as references.

As you were using a power play to explain reactions, Ellie let out a chuckle, interrupting you mid-sentence. "I'm sorry to cut you off, cutie, but that's not quite how a power play works. Just because a team is on a power play doesn’t guarantee a goal."

With your arms crossed defiantly, you replied, "Whatever, you know what I meant."

Ellie shook her head, her smile unwavering. "Looks like I get to give you a crash course in hockey. How about you come to our game on Thursday night? I bet Dina would be thrilled to see you cheering from the stands."

You mulled it over, pretending to be upset with her for interrupting, while in truth, you were preoccupied with the way she had used the term "cutie." You hoped that the flush creeping up your cheeks would be misinterpreted as irritation. A mischievous idea flickered in your mind, and a sly smile curled at the corners of your mouth. "I’ll accept that offer; it finally gives me a chance to see Abby play. Maybe she'll score."

Fury ignited in Ellie's eyes, her demeanor shifting dramatically as she stood up from her chair. With a quick, purposeful stride, she circled the table, leaning in to meet your gaze, her arms forming a protective cage that held you firmly in place. As she drew near, her breath tickled your ear as she murmured, "I’m the one you should focus on; I can outscore Abby any time." The intensity of her words sent a shiver down your spine, making you fidget in your seat. 

Ellie leaned back slightly, her gaze locked onto yours as she awaited your reply, a playful smile dancing on her lips at your evident unease. "I suppose we'll find out," you declared, a sudden surge of confidence surprising even yourself. 

 Her lips curled into a teasing smirk as she looked down at you, her eyes flickering to your mouth for a fleeting moment before returning to meet your gaze. "I guess we will." 

As she glanced at her watch, her smile faded, and she turned away from you, retreating to her seat to gather her belongings. You pulled out your phone to check the time, realizing the reason for her abrupt departure, a wave of sadness washing over you as the playful banter came to an unexpected halt. 

With a playful toss of her backpack onto her shoulder, she shot you another cheeky grin. "Catch you in class, cutie." A warm flush crept back to your cheeks as you nodded, caught off guard by the term of endearment. Yeah, you were fucked. 

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Trust Me Mate

Jack Hughes x Y/N

Description: Based on the song 'Trust me mate' by Dean Lewis.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say Hi if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Alcohol, Throwing up - I think that's it ( let me know if I missed more.)

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

you’re pulling out your cigarette

you bring it up toward your lips

you breathe and push the smoke away just like you do with all your friends

I rapped my knuckles against the door three times, underneath the gold 126 plaque helping anyone unknown find this apartment. I wasn’t unknown though, I’ve been here hundreds of times, walked up the 13 flights of stairs for three months straight when the elevator broke to get here.  The dull thud of footsteps alerted me to the fact that you were coming to the door. The gentle click of the lock and opening of the door as far as the chain allowed me to get my first glimpse of her face in a month. 

“Can you let me in please.” I asked. She shut the door, I heard the slide of the chain bolt and then the door opened fully revealing her.

“Jack.  What are you doing here?” she whispered exasperated, moving to the side to let me into her dark apartment.

“I haven’t heard from you in a month Y/N.” I spoke examining her apartment as we walked further in, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well I’m fine Jack. Now if that’s all you’ve come to do, you can leave.” she concluded.  Crossing her arms across her chest. Why are you self-conscious around me, Y/N? I thought. 

“I left my good water bottle in your room the last time I was here. I’m just going to go get it.” I whispered, looking down as I made my way down the hallway to her room.

your room is messy and full of clothes

the curtains drawn, the Windows closed.

when did the person that i loved turn into someone i don't know

Stepping over clothes, and empty alcohol bottles strewn across the room I made my way to the wooden dresser where my water bottle is perched on the corner. All the photos that normally sit proudly on top of the dresser drawers were laid face down, draws half opened with clothes half falling out of some and an overflowing hamper basket that looks like it has a month's worth of laundry piled in it. Dust had piled on the window sills and the metal slats of the blinds. 

“Jack, stop snooping!” she shouted, voice wavering, tears brimming her eyes. “Get your water bottle and go!” 

“Y/N..” I mumbled

i say it's time we have to talk

“No Jack!” she shouted again, silent tears running down her cheek as she walked out of her room. “We don’t need to!”

you make a move towards the door and you deny there's anything to hide or answer for

you say, ‘I don't don't want you in my place just get the fuck out of my face’

“No Y/N! I’m not leaving you like this!” I yelled back, stepping back and running a hand down my face.

“Please Jack, just leave me be. I’m fine I promise.” she begged, hands clasped at her chest. 

“Fine.” I grit out through my teeth, reaching for the door. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye!” she returned angrily.

but I won't give up so easy 'cause I know you'd do the same

DING. The elevator doors opened and I walked in, pressing the 13 and watching as the doors closed and the numbers on the screen above the panel changed,  counting as they went up, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The doors hummed as they opened letting me walk down the all too familiar hallway, patting my back pocket to make sure I brought the spare key I had to her apartment with me just in case she wouldn’t let me in, my other hand had the paper handles of a shopping bag filled with goodies dangling from my fingers. 

126, the gleaming numbers shone back at me, my left hand raising to the door and hitting my knuckles against the wood three times. Just like always. Waiting for a minute or so before knocking again. Anxiously waiting on a response as the minutes passed by, I continued staring at the gilded numbers. “Fuck this.” I mumbled, reaching around and pulling the silver key out of my back pocket and fumbling to slot it into the lock. CLICK. “Success!” I whispered, pushing the door open tentatively, taking a step inside the still darkened apartment. “Y/N?” I questioned into the eerie silence. “I know you didn’t want me here, but I can’t leave you like this. Y/N?” Moving toward her room and opening the door, light was coming from the bathroom along with sounds of gut-wrenching sobs and heaving. Dropping the bag I had clutched in my hand and rushing to the door, pushing it open and reclining at the sight before me. Y/N curled up on the cold tile floor of the shower, sobbing and dry heaving a bottle of whiskey knocked over and discarded to her right.

But trust me mate you've got this you always were the strongest but I'm not gonna promise that this won't hurt

you  were lying in the bathroom we almost thought we lost you

cause tryna numb the pain only makes it worse

I'm not giving up on you.

“J-Jack, I-i.. leave please.” she sobbed weakly. Heart breaking I moved to where she sat and slid down the wall to her height.

“I can’t do that Y/N.” I mumbled, bringing her shaking form into my arms. Hand rubbing soothingly up and down her back as she sniffled.

“Why Jack!” she cried sitting up, eyes red and puffy, pupils blown. 

“Because I love you Y/N.” I spoke calmly. 

“No, you don’t, you can’t love someone like me.” she wailed.

“Yes I can. I truly love and want to help you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“We can do whatever you want.”

And if it gets worst

before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall cause i won't let you

And if it gets worst

Before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to forget that guy's name” I Simon Benoit*

Summary; When Benny sees you talking to your ex-fiancé, leaving you feeling nauseous and angry, there's only one thing he wants and needs to do: make you forget all about him.

Tropes & warnings; Simon Benoit x reader; Smut 18+; oral sex (f receiving - because, of course!), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes; So, finally arriving at this next stop for my 500 celebrations! 🥳 As always, thank you so much for participating 🍾 And this one, goes out to the one and only babe, @nylwnder 🤍✨ You wished for some hot, steamy Benny - and I hope I've delivered 💕

Word count; 2.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

Simon Benoit was way too confident and charming for his own good. Every time you saw him at the rink, he had a crowd around him, effortlessly grabbing attention with his easy smile and quick wit. There was no denying he was funny and, more importantly, attractive—those sparkling grey/blue eyes and that charming grin had definitely caught your eye more than once. But his cockiness? That was something you just couldn’t get past.

It wasn’t that he was unkind or harmful. Actually, he was quite the opposite. Simon always had a kind word for the fans, took time for autographs, and rarely seemed to lose his cool—well, except during the intense hockey matches, but that’s on the ice, so it doesn’t really count. Generally, you found all hockey players overly confident, with Simon being the most of all. His swagger, the way he seemed so sure of himself on and off the ice, was just a bit too much for your liking.

Yet, despite all this, there was something about him that you couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was the way he laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made you want to laugh along with him. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine—paired with his sweet French-Canadian accent when he spoke. Whatever it was, it was enough to keep him on your mind, even when you had tried to write him off as just another cocky hockey player.

Simon, on the other hand, had been hooked on you even before you volunteered for the Easter Seals Skate event. He had noticed you before, always at the rink, often involved with some kind of MLSE event. But it was at the Easter Seals event that you really caught his attention.

Your smile was wide and infectious, lighting up the room and drawing people towards you like moths to a flame. Your laughter, a sweet melody, echoed through the air, breaking even the most serious faces into grins. And the way you were with the children and the rest of the group—so caring, so patient—had amazed him. He watched as you knelt down to their level, listened to their stories, and cheered them on with genuine enthusiasm. It was clear you weren’t just there to volunteer; you genuinely cared.

Every time Simon saw you interact with the kids, his admiration for you grew, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to your warmth and compassion. There was just something about your demeanour, a quiet strength and kindness that stood out amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the rink. And from that moment on, you were never far from his thoughts.

Especially after the event, later in the evening, when Simon coincidentally met you at a small local coffee shop. He noticed you sitting by the window alone, hands wrapped around a steaming mug, lost in thought. So, gathering his courage, he approached and asked if he could join you. And to his delight, you smiled and gestured to the empty seat across from you.

While you were initially hesitant to get closer to the hockey guys, who often exuded overtly confidence, it was comforting to have a familiar face to share such an emotional day. The truth was, these children and people held a special place in your heart, having grown up with family members facing challenges. So, when the chance came to combine your love for hockey with your dedication to this group of people, it was an easy decision to get involved.

And as the conversation flowed effortlessly, you found yourself suddenly opening up to Simon. You shared stories about your childhood, your passion for helping those in need, and your experiences working in communities where children needed care. You even talked about your failed engagement, something you rarely discussed, and how it had shaped your current path.

Simon listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He was genuinely interested, asking questions, and offering insights that made you feel understood and appreciated. And as the coffee date turned into more coffee dates—days turning into weeks—you found yourself eagerly anticipating these informal meetings. You and Simon fell into a natural rhythm, meeting up often and sharing laughter, inside jokes, and a connection that surpassed mere acquaintances.

Furthermore, the flirtation between you two was undeniable. Each encounter left you both buzzing with anticipation and desire. The playful banter, the lingering touches, the way his gaze would linger on you just a moment too long—it all added to the mounting tension. And before long, you were both on the edge of bursting, the sexual attraction almost overwhelming.

___

However, what had seemed to sparkle soon faded one night after a victorious win, when Simon noticed you talking to a man near the rink's exit. From a distance, he observed your expression change from initial politeness to frustration and anger. And by the time the conversation ended, your smile had vanished, replaced by a tight jaw and a steely glare in your eyes. Concerned, Simon hurried through his post-game routine, eager to find out what had upset you.

And as soon as he finished in the locker room, he sought you out. Worry etched across his face; he asked what had happened. With a heavy sigh, you explained that the man was your ex-fiancé, and the encounter had dredged up painful memories, leaving you frustrated and irritated.

Simon's heart didn’t just ache for you; it burned with a fierce protectiveness. He wanted to erase every hurtful word, every painful memory. So, leaning in close, his voice low and determined, he whispered huskily, “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to forget that guy's name”.

You felt a shiver down your spine as his breath tickled your earlobe, his words and growl causing you to clench your thighs together. Though you hadn’t yet shared that kind of passion with him, you knew you were longing for it. Maybe even more than he did.

And that night, Simon's promise became reality. The moment you stepped into his apartment, the tension between you exploded into a frenzy of heated kisses and urgent touches. Simon's hands explored your body, pulling you closely as he memorised every curve, every sensation of your skin under his fingertips. Clothes were hastily discarded, forming a trail leading to his bedroom, as his lips only parted from yours when absolutely necessary.

Simon tasted exactly as you'd imagined. His kisses were intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and raw desire that made your head spin. Every touch, every caress, ignited a fire within you that only he could satisfy. And completely lost in the moment, you surrendered to the overwhelming passion that had been building between you for so long.

As you entered his bedroom, Simon gently guided you onto the bed. His eyes, filled with lust and need, gazed down at you as he hovered above, his warm breath against your skin murmuring words of desire and reassurance. His hands moved purposefully, exploring every part of you, massaging your breaths as he elicited gasps and moans that fuelled his own arousal.

And he took his time, relishing each moment and sensation. His mouth traced a path of fiery kisses down your body, causing you to arch and writhe beneath him. And when he finally paused at the inside of your thighs, locking eyes with you with a knowing smirk, the anticipation became almost unbearable. Keeping steady contact with you while his breath got closer to your most intimate core, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, it felt like a floodgate had opened.

His sensual motion with his tongue overwhelmed you with pleasure, each kiss, each lick bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Clutching the sheets on either side of your head, you whispered Simon's name in breathless pleas, your body responding in ways you had never felt before. His skilled mouth worked wonders between your legs, teasing your clit and probing your entrance with his talented tongue. Then adding his long fingers to the mix, he effortlessly slid them inside you, gently stretching you with each determined pump. And it didn't take long before you clenched around his digits, letting your first orgasm wash over you.

"Oh yes," you moaned loudly, eyes shut tight as your back arched, feeling the rush take over, your toes curling and your breath catching in your throat.

Simon felt immensely satisfied with the moans and reactions he evoked from you. And as he continued to explore your sensitive flesh with his mouth, he found himself unable to restrain his own desire. Your honey was so delicious to him, and he eagerly delved deeper, his beard becoming soaked with your juices. Then curling his fingers inside you, increasing his pace, he drove you to another climax, pushing you to the brink of overstimulation.

Your body trembled beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. And Simon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you unravel under his touch. Every gasp, every moan fuelled his desire to pleasure you further, while his own throbbing member begged for attention.

So, with a determined growl, he shifted position, withdrawing his fingers and mouth from your heat to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. The taste of your essence mixed with the heat of his mouth created a heady combination that left you dizzy with desire. Simon's hands roamed your body once more, touching and teasing until you were left trembling beneath him, completely undone. 

"Please," a whisper escaped your lips, fingers gripping firmly in his dark hair. "Please, I want to feel you." And your plea only spurred Simon on.

Kneeling on the mattress, he positioned himself between your legs, leaning over your form. And the anticipation was almost unbearable as his cock stood proudly and ready, droplets of pre-cum glistening. You could feel it pressing against you, and you instinctively arched your hips, silently urging him to fill you. Simon's gaze locked with yours, silently promising what was to come, before he then guided the tip of his length to your entrance, pushed inside and filling you completely.

"Oh," you moaned again, hands gripping onto his shoulders, nails lightly creating indentations in his skin.

It felt heavenly. And as Simon began to rock his hips, the sensation was exquisite—a perfect blend of pleasure and connection that left you breathless. He moved with a rhythm that spoke of experience and care, his thrusts deep and steady, each one bringing you closer and closer to another peak.

Yet, a part of you wanted more. Needed more. And he was eager to give it to you. 

"Ben," you whispered breathlessly, a moan mixed in. "Turn me around."

It was a position you had always enjoyed, and one that gave Simon the power to exert force.

So, with a grin on his handsome face, he withdrew his length, used his strong arms to spin you around, lifted your hips, and entered you again. The new angle was perfect, allowing him to penetrate deeper, each thrust more powerful than the last.

Supporting yourself on your elbows, you felt the intensity growing, Simon's pace quickening as he gripped your hips, his fingers pressing into your flesh. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, mixed with your moans and heavy breaths of exertion. You felt completely at his mercy, your skin glistering in sweat mixed with his, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands clenched the sheets beneath you, back arching as you pushed back against him, matching his rhythm. The connection between you was electric, every motion synchronised, every sensation heightened, as Simon's name escaped your lips in a mantra of desire and need.

Then leaning forward, his chest against your back, Simon's lips brushed your ear as he whispered, "You feel so fucking incredible. I'm never letting you go."

And his words, combined with the relentless pace, quickly pushed you to the brink once more. The pleasure built to an overwhelming peak. And with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you in an intense orgasm.

"Oh yes!" you moaned louder than expected. Simon had pressed every single one of your buttons, sending your mind into ecstasy.

As you tightened your muscles around his sensitive shaft, Simon followed suit, letting out a deep moan as he released his milk inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his climax. He collapsed against your back, both of you breathless and spent, enveloped in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Then lying there together, still connected, Simon placed gentle kisses along your spine, his touch tender and soothing. A profound sense of contentment washed over you, the weight of the past lifted and replaced by the warmth and connection you felt with him.

Turning your head, you met his gaze, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I think it worked... I think I've already forgotten his name."

Simon chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you close. "Good," he murmured in a deep growl. "Because you're mine now."

Drifting off to sleep in his embrace, you knew this was the start of something beautiful, something worth cherishing with all your heart.