#skate taking care of her injuries ?

[skateisawesome]

taped my injured knee

[puckinghischier]

Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing ��� he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

[cyberels]

later, loser.ᐟ ᯓ★

˗ˋˏ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ-

☆ ellie discovers the quickest way to get a girl underneath her

daily click! palestine masterpost

☆: sometimes i start writing without a plot in mind to get myself out of a funk and and and this is what i came up w lol so sorry if it’s doodoo ass

☆ warnings -> mention of blood, injuries, all that good shit that comes with skateboarding, probably really inaccurate skating talk, drugs, tbh probably really bad writing but bare with me here, no concept of stranger danger from reader when she sees a hot girl (ellie) for plot reasons lol

☆ skaterboarder!ellie yayyy she wears glasses because i said so &&&&& also ellie works at a vinyl shop and reader works at a bakery :)

☆ ☆ ellies playlist! ☆ ☆

u don’t have to listen but i made it to listen while i write and i thought it’d be fun to add

my masterlist

ellie was no stranger to making mistakes, she’s human, it happens… however, she usually doesn’t make this many stupid choices within the span of one single hour.

today, ellie was running late.

mistake number one.

she practically flew out of the door and hopped on her board, mumbling a half assed apology to her neighbor who she accidentally shoulder checked on her way out when she put on her headphones.

she’s probably going way too fast, but she’s been skateboarding for years, she can handle it. she still has the penny boards that she started skating on when she was 12 hanging up in her living room, right beside some of her other boards she’s had since then that she’s either destroyed or replaced. she weaved in and out of the people walking practically effortlessly, not caring if she was pissing anyone off, they’d live. she’d never have to see them again, anyways.

she opened her phone to turn on her music.

you, on the other hand, were taking your time; you had a good while until you had to be at work. you’ve created a habit of looking for ladybugs in the bushes outside your apartment complex after you noticed that the plant is home to many of the little insects. usually you just glance at the plant as you pass by, but today, you fully stopped to look.

unfortunately, you were unaware of ellie being just feet away from you.

guess you’re no stranger to mistakes, either.

granted, ellie would have had enough time to stop… if she was paying attention.

which she was not.

mistake number two.

you hear a string of curse words behind you. you barely manage to turn around before you’re pushed into the bushes by a girl who promptly lands on top of you. her skateboard rolled away pathetically. it’s almost like it was embarrassed, too.

if there had been any ladybugs, they were definitely squashed now.

you open your eyes slowly to find the other girl hovering just above you. her necklace dangles temptingly close to your lips as she pushes herself up. she's still on top of you, her face just inches away from yours. she blinks a few times, slowly taking in the situation. she seems lost in thought, the wheels in her head turning painstakingly slowly as she tries to comprehend what's happening and her part in it.

she’s taking way too long to get off of you, though, which only serves to frustrate you more.

“hellooo? can you get up?” you mumble through gritted teeth to the girl above you, turning your head to the side to avoid her gaze.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve asked if she was okay, but right now all you wanted to do was get up and pretend like this never happened.

you don’t even want to know how many people saw you fall.

“oh— oh fuck.” ellie stuttered, taking one last glance at you before she moved herself onto the sidewalk, not finding the strength to stand up fully just yet.

she grabbed her headphones that had been flung off in the impact. small scrapes lined the side of them, but at least they probably still worked. she put them around her neck, letting her head fall back in her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions and the situation.

you sigh as you get up, and ellie can tell you’re mad based solely on how the exhale of air sounded.

“uh… you good?” you ask after an uncomfortable pause, eyeing the other girl. it was obvious you didn’t really care, but at least you tried to be polite.

you were still taking your time collecting yourself, brushing leaves out of your hair and wiping blood from your hands onto your jeans (thank god you wore black jeans today). you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but other than your scraped up hands, you were fine.

just really pissed off.

ellie looked up at you and then immediately looked back down, running her hands over her face once more. “yeah, i’m… good.”

you roll your eyes as you hold your hand (the one with the least amount of scrapes) out towards ellie, offering to pull her up. you can't help but feel pity as she sits on the sidewalk. not in a sympathizing way, but more of a "damn, this girl looks pathetic" way. she hesitates for a second, but then grabs your hand and smiles weakly.

“thanks.”

as much as you know that this situation partially is your fault, you’re still annoyed. you had spent so long getting ready today just to have some idiot push you into dirt.

when you speak again, your words come out harsher than you intended… not that you minded. “yeah. watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

ouch.

okay, maybe (keyword: maybe) ellie had caused the worst part of this, but she wasn’t going to sit here and take you blatantly being rude when you’re just as much to blame as she is. “maybe if you didn’t think you owned the sidewalk, i wouldn't have ran into you.”

you reach down beside you and grab her, now shattered, phone and her (also shattered) glasses. you raise your eyebrows as you look over the broken screen.

“maybe if you were paying attention.” you pause, wiggling the phone in front of her face. “you would’ve realized i stopped walking.”

she snatched her things back, she didn’t have a comeback for that.

her phone was fucked… usable, but the screen was shattered so badly that if she scrolled on it she’d probably slice open her thumb. small price to pay, she figures.

it’s not like she’s gonna buy a new one… but she would have to cough up the money for new glasses, though. damn it.

“why the hell did you stop walking anyways?”

you hesitate, looking back at the bush sheepishly, vaguely gesturing towards it as you speak again. “i— not that it’s any of your business— i wanted to see if there were any ladybugs on the leaves.”

“…oh.”

well now ellie just feels like a dickhead, because that’s actually really cute. that was not the answer she was expecting.

you continue looking away and ellie sighs, attempting to push past you to grab her skateboard.

mistake number three.

the second she takes a step, she falls into you again, her ankle completely giving out underneath her. you catch her, your arms wrapping around her hips as you hold her up.

ellie has never wanted to die more than she did at this moment.

her face was literally sandwiched in between your chest. she pushed herself back, hopping slightly.

what the fuck just happened?

“oh my fucking god. i’m so sorry. i– oh fuck, this is so awkward.”

yeah, awkward was one word for it. you stare at her blankly for a moment before you kick her skateboard towards her.

you could feel her touch lingering on your body like she was still there. if your hands were just a little lower you would’ve…

“its– it’s fine. dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

you sound more like you care this time, at least.

not that you do care, or anything,

just trying to make sure she wasn’t seriously hurt.

that’s all.

“i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but she was preoccupied with thinking about how she was going to skate to and from work if she could barely walk… she’d have to deal with it, she decided. there wasn’t any other option for her right now, she was already late.. “i’ll be fine.”

“very convincing.” you reply, looking her up and down. “you’re not seriously about to get on that thing again, are you?”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i don’t have any other choice, i’m gonna be late to work and this is all i have to get me there.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

no way this girl was reckless and stupid.

“what? you can’t be serious… you’re still going to work? are you an idiot?”

ellie doesn't answer right away, glancing down at her skateboard for a bit. you’re right, she should call out, but she hated the prospect of missing a day of work. money had been tight, even one missed day would be hell for her and her bank account.

“you gonna give me the money i’d lose if i called out?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but she was already flying past you, very clearly having a hard time but also very clearly not caring.

“don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk next time, dumbass!” she yelled, leaving you standing in the same spot just watching her leave.

…and kinda wishing she’d come back.

just so you could get the last word.

when you walk into work, it’s unfortunately obvious that you’re pissed off, if the way your manager immediately asks what happened as soon as you clocked in was anything to go by.

you’re thankful for the excuse to rant, though.

“god, abby, where do i even start? i literally just walked out of my apartment and some girl on a skateboard slammed into me and we both went flying into a stupid plant. got a face full of bush and not even the good kind.”

“jesus,” abby laughed, picking a leaf out of your hair. “was she hot?”

“was she hot? is that seriously all you’re gonna say?”

“...well?”

“i hate you so much… but yeah, she was.” you admit, defeat obvious in your tone. you’re well aware that this would’ve been a lot easier for you if you didn’t find the dumb skater attractive. you’d been close enough to her face to see every detail… her freckles, her eyes, her lips— damn it. you couldn’t get her out of your head.

this felt like a sick joke.

abby clapped her hands together. “this isn’t a completely bad thing! did you get her number?”

“no, abby, i didn’t get her number. i was too busy trying to get her away from me because she was stupid and annoying.”

“you’re no fun, could’ve got yourself a skater girl.” she frowned. “are you okay though?”

“you should’ve led with that question, you know?” you huff, looking at the scrapes on your palms again. “i’m fine.”

“yeah, yeah. i should’ve.” abby tosses a pastry towards you. “here, for your troubles, on the house. go sit down in the break room for a little bit, you look like a mess.”

“gonna ignore the last part. thanks, abs.”

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

“jesus fucking christ.” ellie mumbled to herself, hopping off her board before she opened the door to the small vinyl store she worked at.

“late again, williams— oh. oh wow. you look like shit.” austin, the owner of the shop spoke, nudging ellie as she walked by. he was wearing a stupid smirk on his face which made ellie more aggravated.

asshole.

“real nice.” ellie grumbled, putting up her skateboard and backpack. “sorry for being late, won’t happen again, i just— some people are so stupid, you know?”

“by ‘some people’ do you mean you?” he laughed, spinning on his chair. he mocked the way ellie spoke, doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her.

god, he was a 30 year old man-child, but he pays her… so… whatever. she’ll deal.

“ha-ha. good one.”

“ya gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna leave me guessin’?”

“what happened is people don’t know how to walk anymore.” she scoffed, taking stock of the money she had to count before putting it in the drawer. “so fucking stupid.”

“by the looks of it you don’t know how to walk anymore, either. you gonna be able to work? i’m not payin’ ya to sit around, so if i need to call someone else in…”

she glared at him, trying to see if he’d explode if she stared hard enough.

he was right though, unfortunately, ellie was walking like she had just learned how to. it wasn’t the worst injury she’s ever got from skateboarding, but it was definitely inconvenient.

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” ellie snapped, shifting her weight to her good foot to avoid making her injury any worse. “jesus christ, it’s a twisted ankle. i’m not missing a limb.”

“but—“

“drop it.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk still on his face. “oooookay, okay. whatever you say williams. you were still late though, let’s go back to talkin’ about that. what’s the count at now? is this the fifth or sixth time this month?”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. shit’s hard when you don’t have a car.” ellie sighed, punching in the numbers on her register. “i’ll do better. today was not my fault, though.”

“am i gonna have to be more strict with you? everyone else shows up on time, you know?”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” ellie rolled her eyes, trying to focus on work and push the pain out of her mind. “everyone else has a car.”

ellie really did not like austin. his whole holier-than-thou attitude irked her to no end.

still, it beat being jobless, so she knew she shouldn’t complain.

“don’t let it happen again.”

“i won’t, i swear. i’m really sorry.”

“right, okay, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, you alright out here?”

she bit her tongue, holding back a groan.

austin ‘going to the bathroom’ was his way of saying that he’s gonna get really fucking stoned and then sit around and do nothing all day. this was a daily occurrence, at this rate.

“yeah, yeah, i’m good.” ellie mumbled, shoving away the annoyance she felt when he walked past her.

austin was a dickhead, but he was never outright mean, not really. he just… he thought he was better than everyone. a classic ego-centric prick.

as much as she hated him, she did like having a job— and being able to afford a place to sleep at night.

“ohhh, ellie, i gave you more shifts, like you asked.” he said before he walked out, smiling at her. “take a look at the schedule when ya get the chance.”

he has to be kidding.

she’s been begging for more shifts since god knows how long ago, and he decides to give her more now? when she doesn’t even know how she’s gonna be able to make it to work?

amazing. just what she wanted!

“great.” ellie muttered, shooting him a glare even though he was already gone. “more hours that i don’t know how the hell i’m gonna get to.”

she shook her head, austin wasn’t worth getting this pissed about— especially when he did try to do what she asked.

the store was never busy in the morning, so she sat in austins chair, finally taking a second to herself. she went over her options on how this was going to go.

she could have asked dina for a ride, if dina wasn’t off on some work trip about three hours away for the next two weeks, taking her and jesses shared car with her.

terrible timing.

she’d take public transportation if it was reliable and also if she didn’t have a few bad experiences with it already.

that wasn’t really a good option.

uber was definitely not an option. she already was going to have to buy new glasses and eventually pay for her phone to get fixed, she wasn’t about to drop $50 a day on ride.

she was screwed.

nothing was working out for her right now— the universe was laughing at her, just like it always did.

she wanted to kick and scream, but that wouldn’t help anything, plus she wouldn’t be able to kick very well right now.

oh well… she’d be fine, she’d just have to push through it.

her phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced when she seen the cracked screen again, it was so wrecked that it barely let her type in her password.

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

was ellie stupid for agreeing to go out of her way when she was already struggling to walk? yes.

does she care? no.

jesse was a good guy, he’s done a shit ton of favors for her, so this was the least she could do.

she’d never been to the bakery, but she always smelled it when she’d pass by, and it always looked like it’d be good. she did deserve a little treat after the day she had, anyways.

thank you jesse and jesse’s money.

when ellies shift is over, she feels so much worse than she did earlier, and austin repeating that ellie looked like shit over and over again wasn’t helping.

ugh.

“you’re a wreck, williams—“

“—goodbye austin, byeee. i’m leaving, out the door, shifts over. see you tomorrow.” she slammed the door shut, letting out a frustrated sigh as she got on her board again. “god. fuck off.”

the bakery wasn’t far, it was literally right across the street, but it felt like it was miles away to ellie. she leaned on the wall for a second to catch her breath before she walked inside.

it was a cute shop, one of those places you see on pinterest or instagram, with the led light signs and fake plants, it was actually really nice. she doesn’t know why she never came here before.

“let me know if i can help… oh god. it’s you.”

she looks over at you and she starts to wish the fall had just killed her on impact.

“please… pretend like this morning didn’t happen. i don’t want to deal with arguing right now.” ellie sighs, not giving you time to reply to her before she goes into saying her order.

she looked at your name tag as she paid, she could barely see what it said, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to make out your name.

you scribbled little smiley faces and stars around your name, which was cuter than ellie would like to admit.

“go sit, i’ll bring your stuff to you after i box them, ‘kay?”

“i can wait here.“

“sit.”

“fine.”

she sat at one of the booths, attempting to use her phone without losing a finger. she wasn’t even paying attention to the content, just scrolling mindlessly as the memories of this morning replayed in her mind over and over again.

she was hoping to never see you again.

maybe coming here was a mistake.

“here.” you say after a few moments, placing the boxes on the table. “enjoy.”

you were being kind, but she could read behind the curtness of your tone.

you thought she was dumb. she could always tell by the way you talked to her; that look of disdain on your face.

“thanks.” she said, and then the silence took over again. it was obvious that neither of them wanted to start another conversation after the way the last one ended.

ellie couldn’t help but notice how just scraped up your hands were. you had bandages on them, but the blood that seeped through was bright red, like it was demanding to be looked at.

demanding ellie to feel bad for what she did.

damn it, she really should’ve just paid attention this morning.

would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

she got up, sucking her teeth and hissing as she shifted her weight. she leaned on the table for balance as a few curse words left her mouth.

“god, you’re the dumbest person i’ve ever met.” you declared, confirming her suspicions.

she scoffed, trying to shake the pain away from her ankle.

man, this sucked.

“shut the hell up.” ellie snapped. “you don’t have to be so snarky, you know? i’m already dealing with the consequences of my shitty morning, you can drop the whole, ‘i’m better than you’ bullshit. if you listened earlier, you’d have known i said that i have no other choice.”

“i did listen, idiot. i don’t mean to sound like i’m trying to be better than you, okay? i’m sorry. but you seriously don’t have anyone that can help you out? do you have friends?”

“i have friends, asshole. they’re just either busy or i don’t want to inconvenience them. what’s it matter to you anyways?”

you don’t really have an answer, you’re not sure why it matters. maybe it’s because ellie looked really miserable, or maybe it’s because it had been partially your fault that she’s hurt… or maybe both. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt about the situation she was in.

“i have a car.”

ellie paused, looking up at you. she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly, or if this was just some weird, shitty joke.

“okay? congratulations?”

“don’t make me spell it out.” you reply, annoyance clear in your tone. “i’m saying, you’re obviously hurt, and it’s kinda my fault, so… if you needed a ride…”

“no.”

“don’t be stubborn. look, i get it, we’re not on the best terms right now, but i can’t just let you go like this without at least offering, y’know? plus, you seem like you could use the help.”

ellie’s mind was screaming at her to accept— it was logical. you offered a ride, she needs a ride, she should accept your offer.

“i could be a serial killer for all you know. you don’t even know my name.”

“yeah, okay. you? a serial killer? i’d just run away. not like you’d be able to chase after me.”

“hey, i can run pretty damn fast, you know?” ellie hissed. if she wanted, she could definitely chase you down… but she’d rather not do that at the moment. that was probably not a great idea. “hell, i could be an axe murderer.”

“what’s your name?”

“huh?”

“are you dumb?”

“…it’s ellie.”

“‘kay, ellie, now i know your name and if you’re observant— which i doubt but i’m gonna play devils advocate— you know mine. nice to meet you. now we know each other. i’m not gonna sit here and play 21 questions, do you want me to take you to your place or not?”

“what if you kill me anyways?” she asked, she was kidding, she just wanted to piss you off.

“i am not gonna fucking— you know what, you’re annoying. never mind.”

“wait. i’m sorry.”

fuck.

maybe this whole thing about you wasn’t so bad. you were just— abrasive.

she swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “i’ll take a ride.”

“what’s the magic word?”

“die.” ellie hissed. “you’re not funny.”

“almost! that’s four words. do you want a hint?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a few seconds before answering. “i am not saying please.”

“you just said it.” you grinned. “look, i get off at 6:30, that’s like… 20 minutes from now, if you don’t mind waiting. i’ll come get you when i’m off, sound good?”

“yeah. that sounds good.”

this is such a bad idea.

[quintinh43]

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change  of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n,"  he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?"  Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?"  Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God"  both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Next Part | Masterlist

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“C’mon, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!”

Coach Mason’s voice makes me grit my teeth and push harder, skating as fast as I can even though my legs are numb and my lungs are burning.

He’s had us doing suicides for the last five minutes and if I wasn’t as out of breath as I am right now, I’d curse him out so bad.

“One more!” I stop right before hitting the wall, spraying it with ice before pivoting and sprinting back. “Aaannnd DONE!”

I fall to my hands and knees and cough. That was the worst. The others are panting as well and from the looks of it one of my teammates, Percy, is about to throw up.

“Good job, guys. We’re done for today. Go shower and enjoy the rest of your day.” Coach Mason pats my best friends Liam and Paige on their backs before stepping out of the rink.

I groan and get back up after a moment, and skate over to Liam and Paige. They’re wheezing and trying to catch their breath as well, but when they see my face they burst out laughing.

“Look who’s back P, it’s Tomato,” Liam says, taking off his helmet to reveal his sweat slicked hair.

“Fuck you.” I gasp and take off my helmet as well before sticking up my middle finger. I know my face gets red every time I exercise. “You’re just jealous you’re not as fast as I am.”

“Ha! Never. You’re not even that much faster.” Liam pokes me with his stick and turns to Paige who’s giggling at our antics. “C’mon back me up here.”

Paige raises her arms and shrugs. “Nah. I’m not getting involved.”

I laugh at Liam’s offended frown and smack him with one of my gloves before skating to the rink’s exit where our other teammates are already taking off their skates.

“So, are we still on for dinner tonight or what?” Paige asks when she gets off the ice after me. “And if so, are we ordering in, or cooking?”

“I say we cook something. It’s been a while since we cooked together,” Liam says, taking a seat on a bench to take off his skates.

Paige looks at me for confirmation and I shrug. “Sure. I’m fine with whatever.”

“Perfect. It’s settled then, but our fridge is empty, Lee, so we’ll have to go grocery shopping. Care to join us, Y/N? We can head straight to the store, buy what we need and then spend the rest of the afternoon watching movies before cooking together,” she suggests.

I check my watch for the time and frown apologetically. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I have to pick Tara up from school and I promised her I’d help her with a history project, so rain check on the movie marathon?”

Paige smiles and says, “Of course.”

Liam nods and stands back up. “Yeah, no problem. Just text us when you’re coming over.”

I take off my skates and check the time again.

Shit, I have to hurry. If I don’t I’m going to be late and Tara will think I forgot about her.

“Will do. Thanks guys! I’ve gotta run. I’ll see ya later!”

Liam and Paige give me a thumbs up and I smile gratefully before rushing to the locker rooms.

“Hey!” Tara jumps into my car as soon as I come to a stop in front of Woodsboro High School. I’ve managed to make it just in time. She throws her bag on the backseat and immediately accepts the aux cable when I hand it to her so she can play some music.

“Hiya, how was school?” I ask, waving at Chad, Mindy, Wes and Amber. They smile when they see me and I smile back before starting our drive to Tara’s house.

“It was fine, but we got a shit ton of homework.“ She pulls out her inhaler after putting on a song and takes a drag of it. “How was practice?” She glances over and smiles when she sees my face is still a little red. “Did Coach Mason make you do sui’s again?”

I glare at her playfully and stop the car at a red light. “Do you even have to ask?”

Tara laughs and takes another drag of her inhaler. “No, not really, but I like annoying you.” She smirks and drops the inhaler into the cup holder.

I grumble, not even half as annoyed as I’m pretending to be. “Mhmm. I can tell, you little shit. You know, if you didn’t have asthma I’d make you walk the rest of the way home.“

“No, you wouldn’t,” she quips confidently and turns up the volume of the music.

I raise an eyebrow but sigh a moment later, whispering, “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t.”

The rest of the drive is uneventful and before long I’m pulling into the Carpenter’s driveway.

“Is your mom home?” I ask when I get out of the car. My eyes momentarily dart to the house on the other side of the street.

My house. . . I square my shoulders and look away. No, it’s no longer my house. I sold it because it stopped being mine the moment my parents died in the accident.

Tara grabs her bag from the backseat and shakes her head, snapping me out of my thoughts. “No. She’s in London.”

I frown. “For how long?”

“Don’t know,-“ she turns to unlock the front door-“don’t care. It’s not like it’s the first time she’s left for an extended period of time.”

“Right. . .” I clench my jaw and step inside the house after her.

Christina Carpenter has been a shit parent ever since Tara’s dad left. I don’t dare to dwell on it though because if I did that woman would get an earful of how bad of a mother she actually is. It would be the truth, yes, but I know it would upset Tara which is why I stay quiet and take my frustrations out in the rink.

“So, what’s this project you need help with?” I ask, following Tara into the kitchen.

My gaze lands on the pictures on the walls, but I’m quick to look away and ignore the hurt that constricts my heart.

They’re nothing but memories now. Painful memories of what once was and reminders of what could have been. I’m in several of those pictures, alongside Tara and her family, but the face staring back at me, my face, is one I no longer recognize.

“I have to write a paper on the Cold War, but I don’t know how to start,” she says, pulling two bottles of water out of the fridge.

I cringe and take one of the bottles when she offers it to me. “Phew. Okay, I was never really good in history, but I’ll try to help as best as I can.”

Tara smiles and takes a sip of her water. “Thank you. Should we get started?”

“Sure. After you, ma’am.” I bow playfully and gesture for her to lead the way upstairs to her room.

“Idiot.” She smacks my arm as she brushes past me which makes me laugh.

We go to her room and plop down on her bed, getting started on the paper.

After skimming the instructions, I realize it’s not as difficult as I thought it would be. We work together, going through textbooks and using the internet to gather all the information we need before Tara gets to work on actually writing the paper.

I keep her company and proofread everything she shows me until, finally, after two and a half grueling hours, she’s done.

She saves the Word document on her laptop before shutting it and falling back on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Urgh. Finally. That was the worst,” she complains.

I chuckle and toss a pillow at her. “It wasn’t that bad.”

She sits up again and hurls the pillow back at me. I catch it with ease and stuff it behind my back to make myself more comfortable.

“Maybe for you it wasn’t. All you did was help me research. I did all the writing,” she argues, dragging her hands down her face.

“Yeah you did because it’s your assignment. I just said I’d help, not that I’d write the damn thing for you.” I nudge her playfully which makes her roll her eyes.

“Whatever,” she whispers before pulling out her phone. “Hey, it’s already pretty late. Do you want to stay for dinner? Amber’s probably going to come over as well.”

I check my own phone to see that Paige texted me that she and Liam managed to get everything to cook Spaghetti Bolognese together.

I sit up and shake my head with an apologetic smile. “I’d love to but I already made plans with Liam and Paige.”

Tara doesn’t seem fazed by my rejection and just smiles. “Alright. So, you’re leaving now?”

I get up and nod. “Yeah. Is that okay? Or do you want me to stay until Amber gets here?”

“No, no. You can go, I’ll be fine,” she says, getting off the bed as well.

“Okay then.” I pull her into a hug and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Call me if you need anything.”

She breaks our hug and shoves me gently with an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just go, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.” I go to the door and open it. “Love ya!”

Tara snorts, but says, “I love you too, idiot,” before I make my way down the stairs and out of the house. I lock the front door with my spare key and get in my car, texting Liam and Paige that I’m heading to theirs now.

There’s quite a bit of traffic, so it takes longer than expected to drive all the way across town and to make matters even worse, right before I get to Liam’s and Paige’s, I catch sight of Tara’s inhaler in my cup holder.

Shit. She needs that. She mentioned two days ago that she lost her backup inhaler.

I make a U-turn and call Liam.

“Yello?” he says after picking up.

“It’s me, Lee. I have to turn back around because Tara forgot her inhaler in my car.”

“Oh, no worries. Take your time. Paige and I are going to start cooking though, is that okay? I’m starving.”

He groans and I laugh. “Of course. I won’t be long.”

“Yeah okay. See you in a bit. And tell Tara I said hi.” I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Ew, gross dude,” I say, adding, “She’s like five years younger than us.”

This time it’s Liam’s turn to laugh. “Relax. I’m just joking.”

I huff and make a right turn. “You better be.”

“I am, I swear,” he defends. Silence. Then. . . “For real though, tell her I said hi.”

I roll my eyes and hang up. I know he’s only joking, but it gets on my nerves sometimes. I continue driving, listening to the radio until fifteen minutes later, I’m once again pulling into the Carpenter’s driveway.

I grab the inhaler and get out, frowning at the absence of Amber’s car for a moment.

Shouldn’t she be here by now?

I shake my head and make my way around the front of my car.

Maybe she decided not to come over after all.

I skip up the stairs to the front door, only to freeze a second later when a muffled scream pierces through the silence.

“Tara. . .” I drop the inhaler and rush to the door, unlocking it as fast as I can before bursting inside.

Another blood curdling scream echoes through the house and I dash toward the kitchen where it came from.

There’s blood on the floor and a handprint on a nearby door and when I round the corner I see a cloaked figure standing over Tara.

She’s on the ground, sobbing and coughing. Her pink shirt is covered in blood and one of her legs is twisted in a weird way, obviously broken.

Looming over her is a cloaked figure and when she turns around to crawl away, he raises a blood covered knife and stabs her in her lower back.

“Tara!” I jump into action and tackle him to the ground.

He grunts, surprised by my arrival and manages to twist around underneath me. The sight of his infamous Ghostface mask me freeze for just a split second, but that seems to be all the time he needs to get his arm free and swing the knife at me.

I’m quick to react, leaning back just in time to avoid getting my throat slit. When he swings at me again though, I’m not as lucky and with a grunt he manages to stab me in the shoulder right next to my neck.

I scream and topple off him, raising my hand to my shoulder when he pulls the knife back out. My heartbeat is loud in my ears, and I think this is it, this is how I’m going to die, but then I hear the sound of police sirens.

No, this can’t be it. I’m not dying unless I know Tara is safe.

Ghostface grabs the front of my hoodie and lifts his arm to land the killing blow before making his escape, but he never gets the chance to bring the knife down on me because I kick against his knee, making him stumble.

That’s it. That was his chance. If he doesn’t get out now he’s going to get caught, I think, and I’m right.

Ghostface limps out as the sirens get louder. I know he’s not going to return, so I turn my back on the doorway and shuffle to Tara’s side.

“Y/N,” she sobs, clutching at her side. My eyes widen at all the blood and when I see she got stabbed through the hand I feel sick.

“I’m here, Tara. I’m here,” I croak. I pull off my sweatshirt even though I can barely move my shoulder, and press it against her stomach to slow the bleeding.

She hiccups and whimpers, and I slip my free hand underneath her to also apply pressure to the stab wound on her lower back.

“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper. Warm blood soaks the shirt around my own stab wound, making it stick to my back and chest, but I don’t stop applying pressure to Tara’s wounds.

She’s all that matters. She has to survive.

After what feels like hours, the front door flies open and police officers swarm into the house.

“You’re going to be just fine. I promise.”

The constant beeping of Tara’s heart rate monitor keeps me from falling asleep even though I stayed up the entire night. She’s been out of surgery for about half an hour now and the doctors said it’s going to be a while until she wakes up.

She looks so pale and small, it makes my heart hurt, so I carefully take her hand in mine and move my chair even closer to her bed.

It’s a little bit of a struggle because my right arm is in a sling since my shoulder was stitched up, but in the end I manage to get the chair to where I want it to be.

I let out a defeated sigh and lower my head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking as tears prick my eyes. “I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have left.”

No one knows what would have happened if I had stayed. Maybe the attack wouldn’t have happened at all. Maybe Tara would be fine now, or maybe we could have ended up exactly where we are right now. The truth is, no one knows, but at least she wouldn’t have been alone and that is the part that gnaws at me the most because I broke my promise to her.

After Sam left, she was heartbroken. She was alone and lost, so I promised her that I’d never leave her.

She’s always been like a little sister to me because Sam and I were best friends and we used to look after her together, but after that promise, we became inseparable.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper again, shutting my eyes and ignoring the tears that drop down my cheeks. I squeeze her hand in mine and rest my forehead against the edge of the bed.

It’s an uncomfortable position, but I’m too tired to move. I stay like that for a couple of minutes, listening to the heart rate monitor until the door slowly creeps open.

I shoot up in my chair and hiss at the stinging pain in my shoulder.

“Sorry.” Paige’s soft voice makes me relax again and when I turn around I see her standing in the doorway with an apologetic smile on her face.

Liam is right behind her and, for once, he has a serious look on his face.

“Hey.” I sink back in the chair and send them a tight lipped smile.

“How are you feeling?” Paige asks, entering the room. Liam follows her and closes the door.

I don’t even have the energy to scoff at that, so I just whisper, “Like shit.”

Usually Liam would make a joke about it, teasing me by saying I also look like shit instead of just feeling like it, but given the severity of the situation, he doesn’t. He simply places the bouquet of flowers they brought onto the bedside table and joins Paige at my side.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, squeezing my uninjured shoulder.

“Thanks.” My voice is gruff, but I couldn’t care less about that right now. I keep my eyes on Tara, watching her chest rise and fall steadily.

“We were so worried about you,” Liam says.

I hum in acknowledgment, but don’t say anything. I called them using the hospital’s phone last night after the doctor’s took care of my shoulder, and filled them in on what happened.

They were so worried, they wanted to come to the hospital immediately, but I told them to stay at home and come back in the morning which it apparently already is now. I also called Amber and Wes, telling them to stay at home and go to school until Tara wakes up.

“Is she going to be okay?” Paige asks, bringing me back to reality.

I nod and tear my eyes away from Tara to look at her. “Yeah. The doctors said she’s going to be fine, but she almost didn’t make it. . .S-she could have died, Paige.”

A sob claws its way out of my mouth and almost instantly Paige and Liam pull me into a hug.

“Yes, it was a close one, but she’s going to be okay,” Liam says. “I’m sure if it wasn’t for you, she’d not be here right now.”

His words shatter something in me and suddenly, my entire composure crumbles. I begin sobbing uncontrollably and break down, clinging onto both of them as best as I can without letting go of Tara’s hand.

A groan makes my eyes snap up from my lap. Liam and Paige left a while ago after making sure I had something to eat (a disgusting protein bar from the hospital’s vending machine) and something to drink (an entire bottle of Gatorade).

They were reluctant at first when I told them to go to class, but gave in eventually when I convinced them their note taking (and then sharing said notes with me) would be more beneficial than their being here.

Now, my eyes widen at the sight of Tara waking up.

“Y/N?” she whispers, opening her eyes slowly.

I get to my feet and grab a cup of water from the bedside table. “Yeah, I’m here.”

I take a seat on the edge of the bed and smile softly when her dazed eyes land on me. I offer her the cup and help her drink from it when she takes it.

“How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” I ask, taking the cup back when she’s done.

“N-No,” she says quietly. She moves her uninjured hand to her stomach where she was stabbed. “But. . . I’m scared.”

I nod and put the cup on my chair, not wanting to get up to put it back on the bedside table. “Me too.”

Tara’s eyes clear up a little and when she properly takes me in for the first time, she shudders and brushes her fingers over the sling my arm is in. “Your shoulder. . . You’re hurt.”

I grab her hand and squeeze it gently. “I know, but we’ll both be fine.”

Tears well up in her eyes and her chin starts quivering. “You came back. H-He was going to kill me, but you came back. Why did you come back?”

I nod and don’t bother swallowing the growing lump in my throat. “Because you forgot your inhaler in the car and then I heard you scream and—“ I gulp and decided mid sentence not to finish that though. “I’m not leaving your side again until that fucker is either behind bars, or dead, okay?”

A tear streams down Tara’s cheek and I let go of her hand to pull her into a gentle hug. “Okay,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Here you go. One Red Bull and a Snickers,” I say, handing Deputy Vinson the snacks he asked for when I offered to get something from the vending machine.

Wes, Mindy, Chad and Amber got here a couple of minutes ago and I decided to step out of the room for a moment to give them a chance to catch up with Tara alone.

“Thanks.“ Deputy Vinson opens the Red Bull and takes a big sip. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it.” He took Tara’s and my statement earlier and was then stationed outside of her room by Sheriff Hicks.

We share a little smile and I walk past him to go back into the room, only to feel my heart drop when I hear a familiar voice as soon as I open the door.

No, it can’t be. . .

I step into the room and swallow harshly when my eyes land on her.

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[zegrasdrysdale]

More Jamie angst please 🙏🙏

[ last season ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie reaggravates his shoulder injury from last season two games into the 23-24 season. (Y/N) tries to be there for him but taking care of him isn't as easy as it was last time

warning(s) : angst (w a happy ending) ! injured Jamie

author’s note : y’all are just as bad as me w angst. you can’t blame me for this one if tears are shed. one of you asked for this and your wish is my command. also, yes ik that jamie technically has a lower body injury rn but a shoulder injury just works better with this plot

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(Y/N) has been to dozens of hockey games in her life, and watched thousands more. She's watched games where players return after an injury that kept them out long term. She has never personally known a player that has returned from long term injury. She's never watched someone she knows return to the ice after nearly a year away from the NHL.

Until now.

The lights in the Honda Center are dimmed and the starting lineup for the Ducks is being announced. Trevor's line is starting the game. He's centering Adam Henrique and Troy Terry. The defensemen who are starting are about to be announced. She gets her phone ready to go because she knows her boyfriend is on the starting defensive pair.

"Your starting defensemen for the Anaheim Ducks," the announcer says. "Number four. Cam Fowler." The crowd cheers and (Y/N) smiles as she brings her phone up to hit record. "Playing in his first game in the Honda Center in 354 days, number six. Jamie Drysdale."

Jamie skates onto the ice and (Y/N) cheers and screams along with the crowd. She bangs on the glass while Jamie raises his stick to acknowledge the crowd.

He has a look of disbelief on his face as he looks around and skates up next to Cam. She smiles and looks at her boyfriend. He looks at the crowd around him and takes it all in.

She takes Jamie in on the ice in his new plum colored uniform. She knows how far he's come since getting hurt last year.

They had just gotten together when Jamie got hurt against Vegas and she saw him at his lowest. She saw him the day he got cleared to play again. (Y/N) can't help but smile as the lights come on and the Ducks begin to skate around to get ready for the game. The other lines and defensive parings skate to the bench.

Trevor gets into the circle at center ice against one of the Hurricanes players to take the first faceoff of the game. Trevor wins it and gets the puck back to Jamie.

(Y/N) watches with focused eyes, especially when Jamie gets the puck on his stick.

The first goal of the game goes to Sam Carrick nearly seven minutes into the first period. The second goal of the game comes less than two minutes later from Frank Vatrano. He slapped the puck into the net after Jamie passed him the puck.

She probably screams the loudest out of everyone in the Honda Center when she realizes that Jamie is going to get a point for that primary assist.

The boys celly right in front of her so she bangs on the glass. Jamie looks up at her and fist pumps the glass. She brings her fist up to meet his before he skates away to go fist bump his teammates on the bench.

"Anaheim Ducks goal!" comes over the loud speaker a minute later. "His first of the season, scored by number 77 Frank Vatrano! Assisted by number 6 Jamie Drysdale and number 4 Cam Fowler."

Her celebration is short lived because she watches Jamie get tripped by a Carolina player less than a minute later right in front of her. She stands up and sees Jamie go shoulder first into the boards.

The same shoulder he got surgery on and spent the last year rehabbing.

A gasp passes her lips when she hears the thud of his body hitting the boards. A penalty is called on Carolina and Jamie stays down on the ice. A hush falls over Honda Center.

Trevor is quick to skate up to him and get down beside him. She bangs the glass and Trevor looks up at her. He taps his shoulder as the trainer gets over to him. Her eyes widen and she runs up the stairs as soon as Jamie skates off the ice with help from the trainer and Trevor.

The first thought she has is that he tore his surgically repaired shoulder when he collided with the boards. The sound of Jamie’s body hitting the boards replays in her mind and the more she thinks about it, the more nervous she gets.

She makes her way down to the medical area by the locker room. She pulls out her pass that Jamie got her last year that tells security who she is. She shows the guard her pass to get into the players only area. He lets her through and she sprints to medical.

The doctor is checking out Jamie’s shoulder when she bursts into the room. The bottom part of his uniform is on but his sweater, undershirt, and gear are off the upper part of his body. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain as the doctor evaluates him.

“Jamie,” she pants. He looks over at her and relaxes. “I got down here as soon as I could.” (Y/N) walks over to him and grabs his hand.

“I need to learn how to hit the boards with my back,” he jokes. The doctor lifts his arm and he hisses in pain. “So this stops happening.”

She frowns and opens her mouth to say something but the doctor starts speaking first. “Fortunately, I don’t think you tore your labrum again. I don’t think anything is torn. I think it is just a moderate sprain but I want to get imaging done this week to make sure,” he tells Jamie. “Can you come in on Monday?”

Jamie nods, quiet. “I guess I’m done for the night,” he eventually says.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” the doctor replies. “I think you’re done for a few weeks. Recovery time for this injury is six to eight weeks, sometimes less with rehabilitation and rest. Given your past history with your shoulder, I think rest is the best option right now. Don’t push it until the four or six week mark. Wear a sling and don’t try to rehabilitate it on your own. We’ll talk about that in a few weeks.”

With another quiet nod, he gets off the table and grabs his jersey, t-shirt, and gear. He sulks out of the medical area.

She looks at the doctor and asks, “What can I do? He had a hard time with the last shoulder injury. How can I help him with this one?”

“Be there for him,” he replies. “Physically. Emotionally. This is going to be twice as hard. He’s going to blame himself and take out how he’s feeling on you. He won’t mean it but sometimes he’ll need to let out how he is feeling. Try your best and take care of yourself while you take care of him.”

With a curt nod, (Y/N) follows Jamie out the door. She finds him in the locker room putting on his arrival suit. He groans with pain every time he moves to pull on a piece of clothing. She walks up to him to help him and he sighs.

“Here I am again,” he says as (Y/N) helps him put his jacket back on. “Leaving in the middle of another game because I hurt my shoulder.”

She frowns and fixes his collar. “I’m sorry, baby,” she softly says. “Do you want to go get something to eat and bring it home? Do you want to go up to the suite to watch the rest of the game? Whatever you want.”

“I want to get back on the fucking ice,” he snaps. “But instead I’m leaving to go home and put my arm back in a stupid sling for four weeks.” Jamie grabs the first thing he can get his hands on — his helmet.

With his good arm, he chucks the helmet across the room. It hits a wall with a loud bang and falls to the ground. He strings a bunch of curses out in frustration as the helmet flies through the air. (Y/N) lets him get out how he’s feeling. If that means he throws around his equipment then he throws around his equipment. She isn’t going to stop him. She can’t even begin to imagine how he feels right now.

Jamie sits in his stall and (Y/N) crouches in front of him. Her hands run up and down his thighs. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. “This isn’t how I wanted this season to go,” Jamie mumbles. “I didn’t want to be out for the first two months. I didn’t want to sit for a long period of time again. I don’t understand why I can’t stay healthy. It's so frustrating. I wanted this season to be different and it's almost exactly like last season."

"It's not like last season," she tells him. "You can do two months. Two months is nothing compared to last season. I promise." There's a horn on the ice and she realizes that the period is over. "Go talk to whoever you need to. I'll be out in the car waiting for you, okay?"

He nods and they both stand up. She gives his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the locker room. She probably isn't allowed to be in there to begin with so she shouldn't be here when the guys come in.

She doesn't run into anyone that's on the Ducks or works for them on the way to the car. She drove in with Jamie so he should know where it is whenever he's done talking to his coach and teammates.

Until then, she scrolls through her social media feed.

There are a lot of tweets on her timeline and in her notifications that are about Jamie. There are multiple clips of the trip and Jamie going into the boards. There are even more clips of Jamie getting up while holding his arm. There are even pictures of (Y/N) watching behind the glass. In all of them, she has a worried look on her face.

A lot of people are upset that Jamie got hurt because he just came back. There are a lot more that are wishing Jamie a speedy recovery.

Reports are already circulating that Jamie reinjured his shoulder. Not returning to the game and out six to eight weeks.

She decides to send out a little tweet since Jamie doesn't have Twitter.

y/n @/yourusername jamie's okay. a little banged up but he'll be back. gonna wrap him up in bubble wrap as soon as we get home, dpn't worry

As soon as she tweets it, her notifications begin to blow up.

The door opening beside her makes her jump a little. She looks over and watches Jamie get into the car. He slams the door shut and lets out a heavy sigh. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Jamie snaps. "Let's just go home."

With a nod, she starts the car and begins the ten minute drive from the Honda Center to their apartment. It's probably the quietest ride she's ever experienced.

༺═──────────────═༻

The Ducks aren't doing too bad this season. They're on five game winning streak, but it seems like the more the Ducks win, the more upset Jamie gets.

To hopefully make him feel better, (Y/N) takes him to the Honda Center nearly three weeks after he gets hurt to watch his friends and teammates play against the reigning Stanley Cup champs.

Hopefully they can make it a six game winning streak.

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Jamie's mood sours. It's like he doesn't want to even be in the vicinity of the arena. He looks out the window at the building with a sigh. He has on a Ducks hoodie with a pair of jeans because it's actually kind of cold in California at the moment. His arm is in the sling. It's been there for three weeks.

"Hey," she says with a smile. "I think it'll be nice to see everyone. You haven't really been out since you got hurt so I think it'll be nice to see your friends and teammates. I'm sure Z misses having you around. Mason too."

Jamie just nods, sighs, and gets out of the car. She feels a surge of something that feels like annoyance as she follows him out of the car.

She's been trying her hardest to make things easier for him. She has been helping him with a lot, including beginning his rehab so he can get back on the ice. Clearly he misses playing so she went against the doctor's wishes and has started helping him rehab his shoulder.

And she's gotten nothing in return. All Jamie does is snap at her and tell her to go away when she's been trying to help him.

"You know, a little 'thank you for taking me out' wouldn't hurt," she says behind Jamie as he walks toward the back entrance.

"Thank you for dragging me out of the apartment against my will," he says in reply. "Really appreciate it."

(Y/N) stops walking and just stares at the back of Jamie. "I'm trying to help you, Jamie," she calls after him. "I know how hard it is for you to-"

Jamie whips around so quickly she's afraid that he gave himself whiplash. "No, (Y/N)," he snaps, interrupting her. He starts to walk back toward her. "You don't know how hard it is for me. You have no idea how it feels to be taken out of play again because you hurt your shoulder. You have no idea how it feels to sit back and watch your teammates win five fucking games without you. It's like they don't even need me and it shows. I'm supposed to be out there and instead, I'm stuck inside doing nothing but rehab and resting. Don't tell me you know how hard it is for me because you don't. You will never understand how hard it is for me."

Her eyes widen. She's never seen this side of him. Not even when he was hurt last season.

"I'm sorry," she softly says. Her voice cracks. "I'm just trying to help."

"No you're not," Jamie replies. "You wouldn't have dragged me here if you were." Those words stung. She felt them with her entire chest and it causes tears to well in her eyes.

"Jamie," she tries to say but he turns around and walks toward the arena.

"Go home, (Y/N). I'll get a ride back with Trevor or Mason."

She watches Jamie as he opens and door walks into the Honda Center. She's left standing in the middle of the parking lot with nothing but the tears that roll down her cheeks as soon as Jamie can't see her. She tries to blink and wipe away the tears but they don't seem to stop. She walks toward the car so she isn't crying in the middle of the parking lot.

This is nothing like last season. Not the injury, and not Jamie.

(Y/N) drives back to the apartment in complete silence. The tears haven't stopped rolling down her face. It might be dangerous to drive while crying but she doesn't care. She just wants to get home and lay in bed.

As soon as she's back in the apartment, she walks right to the room she shares with Jamie. She passes the small room that they turned into a gym. Jamie's equipment is in the room too. She stops and walks into the room. Her eyes are on the equipment that's thrown in the corner by the closet.

She walks over and picks up the helmet that has a dent in it from when Jamie threw it in the locker room the day he got hurt. She runs her thumb over the 6 on the front of the helmet and bites down on her lip to keep it from wobbling.

All she wants to do is watch Jamie play hockey. She wants to watch him zoom around the ice and do what he does best. She wants to watch him do what he loves. That's all. She hasn't been able to watch him play the sport he loves to play, and it breaks her heart.

With the helmet in her hand, she walks out of the gym and into their bedroom. She kicks off her sneakers and crawls on top of the covers. (Y/N) sits with her knees up and the helmet on her lap. Her fingers run over the number and tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. They continue to roll down her cheeks until she dozes off.

She didn't mean to fall asleep though.

It's nearly midnight when a door opens and wakes her up. She looks at the time and realizes that she missed the entire Ducks game. The bedroom door opens and Jamie stands in the doorway. The helmet has rolled onto the mattress beside her. The sight of Jamie angers her and causes her to chuck the helmet at him.

She's no longer upset with him. She's angry at him for the way he's been treating her.

"Jesus, (Y/N)," he gasps as he catches it with his free arm. "Why did you-"

"I've tried to be here for you," she interrupts. "The past three weeks, I've been nothing but your emotional punching bag and I'm tired of it. I've gotten nothing in return and I try to do something with you by taking you to the game, you tell me to go home. No, I will never understand how hard it is for you to be hurt and watch your friends win games without you, but you don't understand that I'm hurting too, Jamie. I want nothing more than to watch you play hockey. I have yet to watch you play a full game of hockey and that's all I want to do because I want to support you. If you don't think that I'm trying to help you get back on the ice then I'll stop because I'm so tired of being the person you take your feelings out on. Tell me to go and I'll go stay somewhere until you heal and are able to play again."

Jamie's eyes are on her the entire time she's talking. He holds the helmet she threw at him in his hand while she finishes what she has to say.

He looks down at the helmet in his hands when she's done. "I didn't know you felt that way," he says.

"I'm frustrated too," she tells him. "I don't have anyone I can go to like you do. You have me, you have an entire team. I don't have anyone because I only have you and I didn't want to burden you with how I'm feeling. I have no one to talk to because the one person i want to talk to has so much going on and I didn't want to make it worse."

She watches his face soften through the tears that have formed in her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He drops the helmet and walks over to her side of the bed.

Jamie sighs and puts a hand on her knee. "I haven't been very fair to you, have I?" he asks. She shakes her head in reply while she wipes away the tears that have started to roll down her cheeks again. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't realize that this has been hard on you too. I didn't realize that I've been such an asshole to you. I'm just frustrated and I'm taking all of that out on you when you've been nothing but there for me. You don't deserve that."

"I don't like seeing you hurt," she cries. "I want you to get better. I want to watch you play so I can be the supportive hockey girlfriend I've wanted to be since day one. I love watching you on the ice and I want to watch you under the NHL lights."

He frowns and moves so he can envelope her in a hug. She buries her face into his good shoulder and lets out a couple sobs. Her tears wet his hoodie but she doesn't care right now. It'll dry.

Jamie wraps his free arm around her neck and holds her close. "I don't want you to go anywhere, (Y/N)," he whispers. "I need you here. I won't be able to get through this if you aren't here. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend recently and I'm so sorry. You'll never be a burden with how you feel. You can talk to me, okay?"

She backs away and wipes away her tears. Jamie swipes one away with his thumb. "Okay."

"I love you," Jamie tells her. "Even if I don't show it. I love you and I'm very happy you've stuck around despite me being an asshole to you."

"I stayed because I love you too," she replies. "I'll always love you."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. "I can't wait for you to watch me kill it on the ice when I'm all healed."

"I'll be in the stands cheering for you the entire time."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

[silverthehedgehoganalysis]

Here is a list of traits Silver has shown in the games, Sonic Channel and other Sonic Team made content:

Righteous, has a strong sense of justice and is driven to make things right

Kind-hearted, puts other people’s happiness before his own and will drop his mission to help others, is motivated by his desire to protect smiles, wants to use his powers not for himself, but to help others.

Extremely Determined

Optimistic and Hopeful, believes there’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up, inspires hope in the people he works with in Forces, the final story of Sonic 06 and when he helps Elise through her performance anxiety

Pure, has a “sincere, unpretentious and kind” demeanor and wears his heart on his sleeve, this genuineness and purity gives him an “enduring charm” that is one of the biggest things his friends, particularly Blaze, enjoy about him and makes others want to support him

Forthright, is very direct and frank with people and has a straight to the point mentality, is straightforward in his actions and thinking

Earnest and blunt to the point of naivety, expects people to believe and cooperate with him when he says he’s from the future, hides very little and is so honest that he announces himself when attacking Sonic

Not trusting post 06, doesn’t give Sonic a Chaos Emerald until he proves he’s real in Sonic Generations and is the most suspicious of Dodon Pa

Snide and Sarcastic, sneers at Eggman’s theme park in Sonic Colors and has a snotty attitude towards anyone he can one up, remarks “What am I doing?” when going with Amy

Brash, has rude/informal mannerisms and can be abrasive, particularly to people who are not his allies

Juvenile, described as young and immature by his creator Shun Nakamura, this immaturity ties into many aspects of his character as well as his purity but is also the source of his snotty attitude and rude behavior, supposedly he doesn’t like green peppers which is the Japanese equivalent of children not liking broccoli 

Focused, proactive and practical mindset, seen particularly throughout Sonic Forces

Focused on his goals, Does not care what the plan is called in Forces, only that it works and when asked about his favorite race item he says that he likes Jade Ghost because “It lets him disappear and focus on the race”

Inquisitive and proactive, questioned others about how the world was destroyed in the Iblis future his whole life, fought Iblis to try and clear the sky himself, spent most of Team Sonic Racing cracking down on Dodon Pa and Eggman, reads into “Ancient Wisdom” in the good future

Sharp and intuitive, Figures out how to revive Sonic in 06, sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details, does successful detective work in Sonic 06 and Team Sonic Racing, intuits Blaze trying to control great powers when seeing them for the first time, has solved various puzzles and mysteries by himself, “knows a lot” according to Sonic in Silver’s Sonic Channel introduction story

Skilled and Crafty, skillfully accomplishes various tasks during his Town Missions in Sonic 06, turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao in Sonic Rivals 2, Vector refers to him and Blaze as professionals in the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview, has had jobs as a delivery boy, a figure skater, a “genius” skating coach and a butler

Trains off-screen and makes steady efforts to improve his abilities, seems to be self-taught in his skills 

Sometimes takes everything on himself

Warrior with a warrior mentality, described as a warrior, enjoys fighting and will fight his friends for fun, fought and struggled for half his life in the Iblis future, values bravery and facing things head on, dislikes cowardice and indirect tactics, can endure “pain beyond description” and is undeterred by injuries (Shadow’s infamous kick to the head only made him mad)

Competitive and proud/confident in his abilities, has a smug attitude about his abilities and can get competitive over something as simple as handling Orbot and Cubot, clashes with Blaze the first time(s) they meet because of this

Headstrong and Confrontational, confronts Infinite alone because of this, gets offended when Blaze she calls him “weak” and treats him like an amateur 

Very Emotional, tends to rush in and deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings and start confrontations because he gets heated, his passion drives him forward but this same passion can cause him to be rash as his actions are dominated by his feelings

Hot Tempered and impatient, can be easily angered and gets frustrated or indignant when things don’t go his way, can get annoyed at things that get in the way or impatient with things that aren’t to the point, his sense of justice causes righteous indignation at great injustices, his temper can be quite similar to Blaze’s

Has Aggressive energy in both his demeanor and body language, generally has confident or determined expressions, often makes fists, punches things when he's frustrated and gets up by punching the ground

Can be Ruthless, has resorted to playing possum, sneaking past Soleanna guards, robbing people and killing to accomplish his goals

Courageous to the point of being Reckless, puts other’s safety before his own, instantly reacts to protect those around him when attacked in Sonic Comic, Instantly battle ready when surprised in Generations, fought against Iblis and its monsters from a very young age growing up in an extremely hazardous devastated future, both values bravery and dislikes cowardice, recklessly went off to face Infinite on his own and is noted to not back down even in the face of his mighty power, will sacrifice himself without a second thought if necessary

His way of life inspires others and makes them want to cheer him on, this even extends to real life as the illustration at the top this post inspired everyone in the office to give him a high five that day

Cannot lie but can change the subject

Doesn’t know how to explain/express himself at times

Scratches his head with his index finger when processing his thoughts

Feels joy and anger loudly but is quiet in sadness and contemplation

Gets rowdy, riled up and puts his all into things he’s feeling but is very low and quiet when something is on his mind or he’s feeling down(He’s totally autistic, this is autistic volume)

Has a mischievous side

Like apples, ate apple flavored rations in the Iblis future

Deeply appreciates peace, prosperity and people‘s smiles, beautiful vistas and people living peacefully leave him breathless

His desire for peace is seemingly driven by strong empathy for both the people and environment around him, blue skies make him feel at peace, natural beauty and people living prosperously takes his breath away, desolate or destroyed areas sadden and upset him, he can’t help but smile when he makes others smile and can’t stand to see the suffering in his destroyed futures

Has a very quiet, introspective and empathetic side (he deeply and quietly reflects on the morality of his mission throughout 06 and quietly takes in everything about Elise’s past)

AB blood type meaning that he's dual natured and adaptable based on the situation

Is a Taurus

[iskratempestmadness]

What would the Baki boys do with a s/o who loves to ice skate and preforms in all sorts of competitions?

Like for example, some of them getting worried when they see their lover fail to spin perfectly and end up getting too dizzy and knock into the sides of the ice rink.

At night in this case

Baki:

• he is for any of your employment, especially if it is physical. So he's all for you skating with both hands.

• Competitions? Of course, why not? Again, he is only in favor. And of course he will attend them.

• probably, before the competition, you will start some kind of tradition that sets you up for victory. By the type of coin toss .

• supports you during your performance. Shouting encouraging words, jumping up and down with a poster is about him.

• tries to be very attentive to your health, knowing that doing almost any physical activity can cause injury.

• one of those people who will gladly give you a massage after training or carry your bag to the training area. Overprotective.

• if you get injured during a performance, he will feel guilty and.. It puts a lot of pressure on him. Therefore, he will take twice as much care of you.

• if you don't get some element, then he will always say that it is beautiful. He's not mocking, no! He just doesn't know much about your sport. Therefore, for him, everything you do is beautiful and brings him aesthetic pleasure. So either you have to accept it, or advise him on introductory literature.

Hanayama:

• Uh... Something like "well done, do it"

• he is really satisfied with your activity. He sees no harm in her.

• Competitions? Yes, of course! He doesn't mind. Will he be present? Whenever possible. Don't get me wrong, honey, he's a busy man, if he has the opportunity to be present, he'll do it, if there's no such opportunity, then I'm sorry. And naturally, he will do everything possible to have this opportunity.

• He's one of the quiet cheerleaders. You'll probably have to look for him in the stands during the performance. But just look at him, his whole figure expresses pride.

• he is not very attentive to your health. It means that he may not notice minor changes, but if it is something significant, then be sure he will pay for your treatment, and of course it will be at the highest level.

• Do you want a massage? He will hire people. Do you want another coach? He'll find it for you.

• If you get it, he will probably experience a shock for the first few seconds. Pure shock. But not for more than a couple of seconds.

• some element is not obtained. He probably won't understand it. But if you tell him about it... He will probably advise you to try harder... And he will hire another coach.

Katsumi:

• Yes, super!!!Of course, he doesn't mind. He may even keep you company, although he may not have enough motivation.

• Competitions? Yes, yes, of course! He will be 100% on them. He'll make time for you anyway.

• fart competitions will try to relax you as much as possible. Massage, quiet walks, just lying on the bed, everything is in motion. It will also relax you mentally, distract you from your experiences, for example, with video games.

• Super supports you in competitions. And.. It's super loud. You won't have an option not to hear it. And of course you won't need to look for it. A lot of bright and motivating posters give it away. And at this moment he himself is a huge lump of joy, delight and support. Such a fan is worth a lot.

• massage? Of course he will... After the first massage, you may not get up, but after that you will probably notice that you and your muscles are getting better.

• one single nuance. He may not notice the changes in your condition for a long time. despite the fact that he is in contact with your body quite often, he tends to overlook the changes. He'll only pay attention if you tell him so yourself.

• injury... This is probably the scariest thing for him. For the first time, he feels a shock for a few seconds, and then... A huge sense of guilt grips him. He blames himself for something he couldn't influence.

• Surprisingly, he can understand when you are not getting an element, but mostly his conclusions are based on your face. It is quite easy to notice changes in facial expression.

Jack:

• "Ahhh... yeah? Okay. " Like... He will take note. There are also not too many emotions about it.

• He will be present at your competitions in most cases, with rare exceptions. He always comes to them with a small bouquet and a box of your favorite cookies.

probably also started a tradition with you before the competition. And it's pretty simple. It's just a kiss on the forehead. Yes, it's not complicated, but it always works. And besides, he bends down quite nicely to perform this action.

• his support is invisible, it is almost invisible. Why? It lies in the details. For example, preparing breakfast and drinks for you during your workout. Or he drags your stuff after training.

• He is quiet at competitions. He won't scream. It doesn't make you stand out in any way. But if you see him on the podium, you will see a look of pride always looking at you, as well as his whole figure.

• he will probably give you a massage. Well, a couple of times. This happens quite rarely. But it's pretty good. He'll probably hire a massage therapist for you.

• Changes? Well, he's pretty sensitive. Jack easily notices changes in you, even the most minimal ones.

• injury? He's in shock for the first ten minutes, the rest of the time, he's extremely worried, he's next to you. Although you can't tell from him that he's panicking, but his eyes are... An extremely worried look... It completely betrays Jack's condition.

• probably will be able to understand if you are not getting the element. Although based only on the expression on your face.

Retsu:

• Oh, he doesn't mind. He appreciates that you take time for yourself and your body.

• Competitions? Mmmm... He's coming... If he gets the chance. Probably with your favorite drink.

• you also have a tradition before the performance. This is fortune-telling by the book. You select a page and a line, and he reads it out. (A little secret: he chose a book in which there can be no negative predictions)

• A quiet fan. You can occasionally hear encouraging words from him during a speech. Prefers not to distract you.

• Joint training is possible. He skates pretty well. So he'll be happy to campaign for you.

• massage? Of course he will. He's a professional at this. So after each performance, you completely relax thanks to him.

He's quite sensitive to your changes. Maybe too sensitive. He can often notice your changes before you can track them yourself.

• naturally, he feels a shock after seeing how you got injured. But it's only two, three seconds. Already on the fourth, he begins to blame himself.

• is an element missing? He's already noticed... If it's not difficult, then he will try to explain it to you himself, he will be able to. But if it is a difficult element, then he will ask the coach to help you.

Shibukawa:

• Celek supports you. This cute grandfather believes that everyone should have an area in which he will express himself and his emotions, the fact that you have found this area pleases him.

• He will definitely be present at the competition. It's not up for discussion. Most likely he will come with your favorite cookies and a bouquet of flowers.

• a tradition before a performance? Well, you'll probably have a cup of tea and... That's probably all. Not too much. But tea is soothing.

• there is a golden mean in competitions. It's not too loud, but it's not quiet either. Probably shouting encouraging words at you.

• It won't mind if you teach him how to ride. Why not? He's still too curious for his age.

• massage? Uhhh... Hardly... I'm sorry about him. He is not a professional and will not even try. But he can pay you for a massage therapist. It's no problem.

He's pretty sensitive about your changes. But sometimes he can also announce.

• injury? 100% shock for 15 seconds. And he will be away from it for a long time. But for the rest of the time, he will be with you, fulfilling all your whims.

• it will probably laugh at you a little if you don't get the element right. But he will make it clear that these are just jokes. And... probably wish you and your coach good luck.

[luvhughes43]

possible new au thoughts? (hughes!sister + nico hischier x hughes!sister)

so blake hughes is jacks twin and unlike her siblings she doesn't play hockey

she's actually an olympic figure skater (she won gold for singles in the 2018 olympics when she was 16/17)

anyway, so blake lived in michigan with her parents and thats where she did all of her figure skating training until her coach gets exposed for abusive practices (similar to eteri if u know who that is) after one of her other skaters has to retire at like 15 years old

now that everyones talking about blakes coach, blake (now 19/20) realizes that skating isn't supposed to be harmful and abusive the way it was for her growing up.

so thats when she decides to make the move to jersey and start her training there with a new coach who cares more about her wellbeing

so now, blake is 20 and is still competing. its worlds and she has a back injury that she decides to push through because she was always taught by her previous coaches that winning is the most important thing.

during the short program she agitates her back, and instead of telling anyone she decides to continue the competition. which is when in the long program she falls from a jump and completely ruins her back.

its the worst case scenario too because her back injuries are so severe, combined with the years of harsh training and other small injuries that just make it impossible for blake to fully recover and be able to compete again.

so shes absolutely devastated and locked away in her apartment which worries her whole family.

jack's talking about it to nico one day who volunteers to go over to blakes apartment with him and he offers to cook dinner / make himself useful.

jack agrees and so the two go over! blakes absolutely distraught over her now ended career and is just a complete mess. however, her and nico get some time alone to talk and they both really click despite the circumstances...

nico from then on decides to visit blake as much as he can, just making sure she's doing alright. they both quickly develop feelings for one another but neither of them bring it up because nico doesn't want it to seem like hes taking advantage of blake when shes so vulnerably, and blakes like... "i cannot get with my brothers CAPTAIN!" so neither of them say anything..

until blake goes to some devils event and sees nico with another girl and shes literally so damn jealous

its kind of messy but they both confess to having feelings for each other, and so they decide to date and keep it a secret from everyone to cause less drama (blakes around 21, nicos 23 at this point)

send in ur thoughts + if u want this to be an au!🫶

realizing they like each other (thoughts)

nico and blake getting together

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-

>> Page 3

[avkizi]

MARAUDERS ERA DR INTRO !!

BASICS ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------------------

||*.name: venus mayumi

||*.nicknames: rings, vee

||*.birthday: 06/04 (11)

||*.pronouns: she/her

||*.occupation: student @ hogwarts

||*.ethnicity: filipino/japanese/german

||*.blood status: half-blood

APPEARENCE + MOODBOARD

⋆.˚ lil blurb: i have vitiligo, which affects my eye, skin in some smaller patches, and the front bits of my hair, making them lighter ⋆.˚

SCHOOL/SOCIAL ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------

||*.house: gryffindor

||*.friends: marauders & valkyries, + regulus black (♡), dorcas meadows, pandora rosier, kingsley shacklebolt, & emmeline vance (civil w/ the skittles/emeralds bc of reg)

||*.animagus form: raccoon

||*.personality/social life: lowkey a little loud, def more similar to james & sirius than remus & peter, but i actually know when to shut tf up, and i'm generally well-liked. there isn't as much hatred of other houses, and a lot of the death eater/pureblood stuff is way less prevelant, so friendly rivalries are common, but no all-out hatred. me n sirius are beaters for the gryffindor quidditch team (i'm also lowkey ripped asf hehehe), but i end up having to drop out mid fifth year from an injury, so me n lily end up commentating (lmao).

||*.hobbies:

muggle volleyball thrifting, crocheting, embroidery, & sewing singing + playing electric guitar jewlery making rock, fossil, and bone collecting/foraging parkour roller skating quidditch

WORLD STUFF ౨ৎ--------------------------------------------------------

||* uniforms arent as strictly enforced, fridays, weekends, and non-school days like holidays you can wear regular clothes undr your robes, accessories are always allowed (jewelry, belts, hair shit, etc.)

||* there are a bunch of extra curriculars available like different clubs, etc. and theyre lowkey super fun theres like baking club, art club, care of magical creatures, its so sick.

||* they do so many fancy events theres a halloween masquerade ball, easter ball, valentines day dance, autumn/spring equinox events, etc. also the triwizard tournament didn't get banned and there was one in my fourth year bc i said so

||* it's genrally recognized that students within the same house arent all the same sow hile friendly competition is encouraged, it's also common for students to have friends from other houses, and ppl are allowed in other house's dorms & common rooms if they're invited

||* there is a bioluminescent cave pool under the castle and its so fun to hang out in oh my god its not cold or anything its just soso cool

||*voldemorts downfall happens the year after we graduate (aka the order destroys all the horcruxes), and nobody i know well dies so none of the betrayal happens, but regulus does end up taking the mark but dosen't believe in all that shit & works as a spy (snape could NEVER) for the order, and still destroys the horcrux but survives and fully leaves his family (suck it walburga and orion)

MISC/TRIVIA ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------------

has three pets, two cats and an owl, whos names are mocha, shinya, & ghost, (the cats r technially communal between me n the valkyries bc they live in the dorms w us, but idc)

bands/music artists and slang r all the same as they are now, but technology etc is all 70s (w/o the homophobia racism etc)

i shift in the day before i get my hogwarts letter

sirius and reg are irish twins so while reg is still younger hes in our year (along w the rest of the skittles/emeralds its for simplicity)

there is a creek/river system in the forest and its so cool to hangout near theres like fossils and bones and cool rocks and shit EVERYWHERE i love it

the lake is swimmable (unless you can't swim cough cough regulus black) and its super fun theres a dock and floating platforms and stuff its amazing when its hot out

the dr follows kind of an atyd type timeline of events w exceptions

౨ৎ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

that's all pretty much!!! thats a long one lmao sorry abt that but also if y'all knw any younger raspier british fem voiceclaims pls tell me im in the trenches rn trying to find a british vc that dosent sound like shes in bridgerton lmao ok byeeee love u

[paladin--strait]

hiiii congrats on 100 followers!! 💞can you do “20 - reader gets hurt and (name) takes care of them” with nico hischier?

💕 💕

-

one second i'm having the time of my life, skating around the rink with my friends, the next i'm on the ice, ankle throbbing and swollen. tears well in my eyes from the pain and embarrassment, but mostly from the pain.

i sniffle and wince as my friend lifts me up, slowly taking me over to the bench and sitting me down slowly. when i reach down to take my skate off, it hurts so bad that i just decide to leave it on.

my friend, angel, takes my phone and walks away. i assume she's calling nico and that's soon confirmed when i hear her say his name in a questioning manner. she's looks at me before she plugs her open ear with a finger, the loud sound of skates hitting the ice of the public rink and people yelling loudly at each other making it hard for her to hear nico.

she nods some, and eventually hangs up. she unlocks my phone and starts typing something that i assume is the address of the rink we're at. she walks back over after she's done typing, "nico said to wait here, that he'll take you to the team doctor and she'll check you out." she says, sitting beside me and putting her hand on my back.

"thank you, angel, i really appreciate it. when will nico get here?" i ask, looking down at my hurt ankle.

"he said as soon as possible? don't you have life360 or something like that? i can look him up." she unlocks the phone once more, clicking on the tracker app and tapping on nico's icon. "it says he's two minutes away."

my eyes widen when i realize how close he is. the house is probably 20 minutes from here, so how fast was he going? the sudden thought of him speeding and possibly getting hurt, in an accident, or worse makes my heart pound and my eyes water once more.

but my racing heart calms when i see him run in the door, he speeds over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders and then squatting down on the floor, "baby, what happened? did someone do this to you? did they trip you or something? i'll kill them." he speaks quickly, inspecting my swollen ankle.

"no, nico. nobody did this to me. i was trying to do some kind of weird trick i saw on tiktok and i landed wrong on my ankle. i'm okay, my ankle just really hurts..." i look down at him and then to my throbbing ankle.

"lets keep the skate on but loosen the laces." he frowns, loosening the laces some before standing up and holding his hands out to help me up slowly. "don't stand on it. be careful, babe."

i take his hands and stand up on my opposite foot, not letting the hurt foot touch the ground. "how am i supposed to walk out to the car like this?" i ask, looking at him with concern.

he raises a single finger goofily, looking at me with a wide smile. "this is the part where i pick you up." i giggle at him, wrapping my arms around his neck when he lifts me up into his arms.

"you're so strong, nini." i say, the nickname slipping through my lips. "so muscly..." i run my finger down his arm, tracing the toned lines of muscle.

he laughs and sets me down in the passenger seat of his car before he gets in on his side, starting the car and beginning the drive to the teams practice arena. nico asks me if i had fun before the injury and what kind of trick i was trying to do when i got hurt. i tell him everything and we laugh at some of the things my friends did on the ice. that helps to take my mind off the pain some.

the drive goes by quicker than expected and nico is soon helping me out of the car and into the practice arena. we pass by some of the players who are making their way into the arena for a workout or to train, and the other players who have been there for a while and are now leaving.

they question us about what happened and some hug me, telling me that they hope i'll be okay. we finally find ourselves in the doctors office and i take a seat on the chair for patients. as we wait for the doctor to come, nico holds me hand, smiling at me and telling me that everything is going to be okay.

-

"it seems to be just a broken ankle, mrs. hischer." the doctor says, holding up the scans of my ankle and putting them on the board so it's easier to see. "you need plenty of rest and to stay off of it for a while. stay away from physical activity for a few weeks even after the cast comes off and come back to see me in about three weeks. if it gets worse or something feels off about it then give me a call and come in."

nico and i thank the doctor and head back out to car with my newly casted ankle. "mrs. hischer, hmm? since when was i your wife?" nico laughs at my question and shrugs, he's always loved to call me 'mrs. hischer', it reminds him, me, and most importantly, everyone else, that i'm nico's girl and i always will be.

nico drives us to the pharmacy to pick up some pain medication the doctor prescribed and then he drives us to chick-fil-a, ordering my usual for me and his usual for him.

i put the bags on the floorboard of the car and once we make it to the house, i hand the food to nico and we make a trade, him carrying the food and for me, my crutches from the backseat.

"you handled that really well, babe. i know you can be sensitive sometimes so i'm really proud of you." nico says, unlocking the door and letting me in. "from just a look at the scans, it looked like a nasty break, but you took it like a champ. i'm so proud of you, baby." he says, setting the food on the counter and coming over to plant a kiss on top of my forehead while i tell him thank you and apologizing for making him go to the arena just for me to get checked out.

i slide into the chair that's slid under the island, and open the bag, pulling the food out while nico sits in the chair beside me. we chat while we eat and then clean up when we're done.

after we clean up the kitchen together, we head to bed. nico pulls off his clothes and puts on his sleep pants. i do the same, except i put on my tank top and a pair of his sleep pants. sometimes i wear his shorts, but his sleep pants are more comfortable.

the bed is suddenly uncomfortable, no doubt from the huge cast on my ankle. i can't bring myself to sleep due to being so uncomfortable. but my body is extremely exhausted, and it's begging for sleep. so, i carefully, trying not to wake a sleeping nico, get up and go to the most comfortable spot i can think of right now. nico's reclining chair.

the chair is dark brown with a lever on the side that controls whether you lift the legs of the chair or not. i like to call nico's recliner, 'the dad chair'. he swears it's not weird to own one at his age, and that its perfect for naps. and he was right, that chair is looking really comfortable right now.

i find myself plopping down on the chair, putting my crutches to the side. i use my other leg to help control the extending leg of the chair so it doesn't swing up and hurt me more when i pull the lever. thankfully, my plan works, and i shift a little in the seat, grabbing a blanket and a throw pillow to help get more comfortable.

i throw on one of my favorite shows to sleep to, the joy of painting with bob ross. there's something about the big haired man that is wonderfully comforting. his voice his smooth and when he speaks its like a new bedtime story every episode. i adjust the volume and close my eyes, snuggling up to the pillow and drifting off to sleep.

-

when i wake up, i'm in a new environment. i notice the slight smell of nico's cologne instantly. i open my eyes and realize i'm back in the bedroom, and nico is sitting on his side of the bed, his feet kicked over the edge while he plays on his phone.

"nico? how did i get here?" my voice is raspy, presumably from snoring, a bad habit of mine that nico has come to deal with every night. i wipe my groggy eyes and look around, wiping the crusties off my eyes.

he turns to look at me and he smiles. "good morning, beautiful. i moved you last night when i woke up around 1am. i noticed you were gone and then i heard the tv. so i went and woke you, and helped you get comfortable on the bed in here. do you not remember?" he says, shutting his phone off and tossing it on the bed when he lays down, coming closer to me and pulling me towards him so i'm on my side and in his arms.

"no...i don't remember any of that. i remember getting up and going to the living room, but nothing else." i say, trying to recall the events of last night, as told by nico.

"well, i put a pillow under your calf so it's more comfortable for you to move around in your sleep. i know you can't sleep on your back so that's what i did to fix it. i ordered your favorite takeout, since it's past 11 already, and i called out of work today. no, don't even try to argue with me about it, i already made up my mind to be here and take care of you." nico says, speaking with stern tone to show how serious he is.

he continues his rant, not letting me speak. "baby, you're hurt. so, i'm gonna be here for you the entire time, as much as possible, no excuses. i love you and i want to make sure you get the best care and the best rest. i'm gonna take care of you." he says, cupping my red face in his hands.

"thank you, nini. i love you so much," i say, smiling at his touch and his kind words of encouragement. "thank you for taking care of me." i kiss his lips and it's soft and gentle, like a warm hug on a winter evening. this day, even though i'm hurt, is the epitome of perfect. i'd love to spend my days like this forever, even if it means having a broken ankle.

[quintinh43]

Fucking Canada | Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is out with an injury, Y/n is on break from school. Obviously, the only logical thing is for them to head down to Vancouver to visit Quinn.

Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Meantions of Anxiety, Drinking (drink responsibly kids), Some light suggestive content. Use of the name Mariana. Let me know if I missed anything!

Wc: 4.9k

This one's for @toasttt11, stay awesome 🫶🏼

---

Luke had been been out with an injury for a week. And it was driving him insane. He had begged and begged the trainers to at least allow him on the ice with the team. He'd batted his long eyelashes and given them puppy dog eyes and the famous Hughes pout, yet somehow they resisted and firmly told him he was not to touch a pair of skates until after his two-week check up.

And that was only if his check-up came back all ok. So in his boredom, he flew down to Michigan to spend time with you, and then decided that as soon as your break started he was flying both of you down to Vancouver for the week, because fuck he missed his big brother.

He rolled his wrist around in its brace, and you smack him in the chest. "Stop doing that. You're gonna aggravate your wrist and make it worse."

"Baby, I swear its fine," he whined, "The trainers don't know what they're talking about."

You snort, and grab his arm, pinning it beneath your torso, being careful to ensure that the strained part of his wrist was not under you.

"Baby, please," he whined, tugging his arm gently. "Let me up,"

"Only if you promise to stop rolling your wrist." You glare.

"I promise" Luke mumbles shifting towards you to run his lips along your jaw. Your stomach flutters, pink dusts across your cheeks, and you let him go immediately. He leans on his elbows and kisses down your neck.

"Luke" you whisper breathlessly.

"Hmm" he hums, nipping at the sensitive skin along the column of your troat.

You bite your lip, debating telling him off. But kissing Luke is much much better than studying physiology, and you haven't had a break in a while. You slam your textbook shut, and all but kick it off the bed.

"You're such a menace," you huff, he wraps his uninjured arm around you, and drags himself fully on top of you, kissing gently down your neck.

"You know you love me," he grins.

"You're lucky I do, Hughes. Now get back to kissing me,"

"Yes ma'am," he chuckles, lips dancing along your collarbones.

There's a knock on your door and before you can tell whoever it is to fuck off, your roommate and best university friend; Mariana barges in.

"Enough sexy time, kids!" she says, ignoring the murderous glares both you and Luke throw her way, "If you still want a ride to the airport, we are leaving in ten." She walks out, leaving the door open. You sigh, nudging Luke with your shoulder, to get off of you. He pecks one last kiss to your cheek and rolls off you, pulling you to your feet so the two of you can get all your things together.

You slide your laptop into your bag, grab all your chargers, and make sure you have an extra set of headphones. Because God knows the worst thing that could possibly happen is being stuck on an airplane with no muisc. After double and triple checking that you have everything, Mariana ushers you out the door hurriedly.

The ride to the airport is nothing special. You and Mariana sit in the front while Luke is banished to the back. You stretch an arm back to hold his hand, and he leans his head on your seat to be closer to you.

"Have fun in Vancouver Babe," Mariana says giving you a tight parting hug, and kiss on the cheek.

"Better take care of my girl Hughes, or I'm coming for that other wrist" She threatens, giving Luke a hug. Luke laughs, patting Mariana's back.

"You know it, Mari," he grins, winking at you.

"Text me when you land, ok?" She says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I will. Thanks for the ride, Mar." You hive her one last squeeze goodbye and take Luke's hand as you head through the airport.

Everything goes smoothly, thank God, and soon you and Luke are boarded the plane. It's a fight over who takes the window seat. You think Luke should have it cause he has longer legs, and Luke thinks you should have it because you deserve the best seat.

After convincing Luke that as long as you're sitting beside him, you do have the best seat, he reluctantly takes the window seat. And makes sure to tell you that if you want to switch at any time, just tell him.

You nod, knowing that you absolutely won't be doing that, but what Luke doesn't know won't hurt him.  You're set to arrive just before Quinn's game tonight, which means that the two of you won't get to see him until later. After going through your mental checklist, making sure everything is organized, you stick your headphones in and rest your head on Luke's shoulder and promptly pass out.

Luke is shaking you awake gently when it's time to get off the plane. "Wake up, Baby, it's time to get going," he says softly.

You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, "Alright lets go,"

You grab all of yours and Lukes belongings from the overhead compartment, much to his dismay. "Baby, let me help,"

"Luke Warren, I swear if you touch any of this luggage with that wrist, I'll chop it off," you say sternly. You hand him his backpack, and he slings it over his shoulder with a pout.

You grab his injured hand gently, lacing your fingers together as best as you can with his brace on, and head off the plane. As you step into the Uber, both your phones buzz with a text from Quinn.

Q: I left a key for you guys with the front desk, Luke just has to show some ID.

Q: You guys are coming to the game right?

Luke: Yep, excited to see you Q

You: Were just heading to your place now, to get settled and then we're on our way. See you soon!

Q: Excited to see you guys too.

You arrive at his apartment, and Luke shows his ID to the front desk, and they hand over the key. Quinn's apartment is nice, but it's so clean. It looks like a place out of a modern decor magazine, except for the photos of his family scattered here and there.

There's a two jerseys folded neatly on the bed with a sticky note that says 'Don't be a little bitch' on top. "Nope" Luke says as he immediately lays eyes on it, "I'm not wearing that, nither are you."

You roll your eyes at him, but don't argue. It makes sense that he wouldn't wear it. Players have a thing about not wearing another franchises merchandise. He unzips his suitcase and pulls out two black hoodies with white stitching that says Hughes 43 on the back. Except if you look carefully, the devils logo is stitched on the sleeve.

You shake your head with a smile and take the hoodie from him. "Let me just change into something better, and we'll head out."

Luke nods, digging around for a pair of jeans for himself.  The two of you make quick work of changing, and then you're on your way to the game. Quinn, smartly left the tickets under your name, lest someone spill the beans that Luke Hughes is in Vancouver to watch his brother play.

Your seats are right by the glass. When Quinn notices you, he skates over, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Bitches" he mouths with a smile, as he takes in the lack of Canuck blue in your outfits.

You grin and flash him a heart with your fingers while Luke flips him off, making sure he can see the devils logo on the sleeve. Quinn shakes his head at Luke and skates off to finish warm-ups.

Thankfully, no one really takes note of the interaction. Luke has a cap pulled low, so unless someone is really looking for Luke Hughes, then he shouldn't be recognized. The atmosphere is electric. Canadian hockey really hits differently.

The game is nerve-wracking, and for most of it, you and Luke are on the edges of your seats, grabbing at eachother hands, and slapping eachothers knees in excitement whenever something particular exciting happens. And when Quinn picks up a goal, the two of you are jumping and screaming.

The game ends with a canuck win, and as you two make your way down to the locker room to greet Quinn, you're chattering excitedly about all the good plays that were made. Especially Quinn's. He picked up a goal and three assists, making him the top point scorer of the game.

As he walks out of the locker room, he can't keep the smile off his face as he lands eyes on you and Luke. As much as he doesn't mind being on his own, seeing his family is always the best. You've been around the Hughes boys since you were growing up. From Toronto to Michigan. Your family's were really close and still are to this day.

He pulls you into a hug first, "Good to see you Y/n" he says, patting you on the back.

He goes to hug Luke, and in true brotherly fashion, he can't help but make a jab at him as does so. "I swear to God, you get taller every time I see you." Rather than standing on his tip toes to throw his arms around Lukes neck, he hooks his ankle around the back of Luke's knee and Luke's knees buckle.

Quinn catches him in a hug before he can hit the floor. You and Quinn are laughing, while Luke grumbles. He snatches Quinns hat off his head, making his hair stick up in every which way and holds it as high as he can. Quinn rolls his eyes, not taking the bait, and starts to walk.

Luke huffs and throws his hat back at him. "How did y'all get here?"

"Uber," you say, throwing an arm around Luke's waist as you walk. He drapes his arm around your shoulder, fingers brushing patters against your shoulder.

"The team is going out to celebrate. Do you guys wanna join, or do you want a ride home first?"

"Well, come with," Luke smiles, "Good game, dude, you made some nasty moves."

Pink dusts Quinn's cheeks, and he changes the conversation. "How's the wrist?"

Luke rolls his eyes, and before he can roll his wrist, you glare at him. "It's completely fucking fine."

"It's not" you say

"The trainers don't know what they are talking about." He mutters.

"They do" You add poking luke in the side.

Quinn scoffs, "Yes, im sure the people whose literal job it is to treat your injures don't know what they are talking about."

Luke pouts, "I can't believe my girl and my brother are ganging up on me like this,"

"Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn." You and Quinn say simultaneously, looking at each other with a grin.

Luke grumbles unintelligiblly and Quinn throws his bags in this trunk. Luke takes the front seat, and this time, he's the one reaching his arm back to hold your hand. You smile, lacing your fingers together. Quinn rolls the eyes at the two of you with a smile.

The drive to the bar is filled with the light chatter of the three of you catching up about life. Unsurprisingly, Quinn has nothing interesting happening in his love life. The man eats, breathes, sleeps, and lives hockey. Luke teases him about becoming an old spinster while he glances at you lovingly. No doubt envisioning the magnificence that your lives will be together.

The bar is absolutely packed. Not surprisingly. It's a Friday night and the Canucks won. Some of the team is already there, in a roped off Vip area. They wave Quin over urgently. He grabs your hand and you grab Luke's so as not to get separated in the crowd of drunk people.

Quinn greets his teammates with hugs and back slaps and inside jokes. Some of them grin at you and Luke, wiggling their eyebrows at you and dragging Luke into hugs.

"So why are Mr. And Mrs. Huggy Jr. Here?" Brock asks, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Luke smiles at that, tracing his finger over the back of your left ring finger. "Luke is out injured, and I'm on a break from school," you shrug, playing with Luke's hand in yours.

"I'm going to get a refill," Luke hums, kissing the tip of your ear as he detangles himself from you, "want anything?"

"I'm good for now, baby," you say, kissing him on the cheek. When you turn back to the guys, they are all leaning close to you, batting their eyelashes like a group of High-school girls waiting to hear the latest drama about your crush.

Petey is the first to speak, "So when is he proposing?"

Millsy slaps him in the back of the head, "How is she supposed to know when he's proposing dumbass?"

"That man is so fucking whipped for you," Brock smirks, and you can't help the blush that colours your cheeks.

"You guys will have some cute babiess," Garland grins, just the slightest bit tipsy.

"Alright, alright, leave her alone. That's my sister-in-law you're bullying" Quinn says, coming to your rescue. He throws an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You ok?" He asks quietly, the guys already forgetting the previous topic of conversation.

"Yeah, thanks Quinn," you smile, squeezing his hand back.

"Well, I'm absolutely beat, so I'm gonna go home. Do y'all wanna stay, or are you ready to head home?"

"We'll stay I think, me and Lukey are having fun, and I have yet to drag him to the dance floor. Are you ok to drive home?"

"Yeah, I haven't been drinking," Quinn says, smiling softly at your concern for him. "Sorry to leave y'all hanging."

"Don't worry about it, Quinn, we'll see you tomorrow. You played a good game, go get lots of rest," you smile, wrapping him in a quick hug.

He hugs you back and turns to address the guys. "I'm heading out if anyone wants a ride," Before the sentence fully leaves his mouth, Petey is practically throwing himself at Quinn. He stumbles into the two of you, and you both reach out to make sure he doesn't eat the floor. "I drank too much," he mumbles.

You laugh, patting his back, as Quinn stabilizes him. "I'm making you do bag skates next practice," Quinn says with entirely too much joy, as he practically half carries Petey out of the bar.

With Quinn gone, you dip out of the Vip section to find Luke, you spot him sitting at the bar, cheeks flushed, empty shot glasses littered suspiciously close to him. He's holding another glass that looks like soda, and there's a girl leaning much to close to him. He's leaning back slowly, looking very unimpressed.

Until he spots you. His megawatt lady killer smile appears as he all but pushes the other girl out of the way, and practically sprints to you, as well as someone can sprint in a crowded bar. Your hands rest on his arms, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Luke, are you ok?" You ask concerned, eyes flitting across his face, "have you been drinking?"

"Y/n!" He is way too giddy to be sober, "I know we said, we weren't drinking, but then I was sad about my wrist and someone said that the alcohol would make me feel better, so drank a little teeny tiny shot, and then another one cause somone got me another one, and then this group of girls asked me if I wanted to do shots with them, and I was gonna say no, but then they already ordered the shots and then-"

You cut off his drunk rambling, your voice laced with concern. "Luke baby, do you remember how many shots you took?" You ask, the calmness of your voice not giving way to the absolutely disastrous thoughts swimming in your head.

"Four, I think!" He grins, trying to count the glasses that were littered on the bar top in front of where he was sitting. There were five. Your eyes widen almost comically. He was barely gone for half an hour. He took five shots of straight alcohol in less than half an hour. Fuck.

Now it wasn't as if Luke hadn't drank before, undoubtedly he had. But definitely not that amount of alcohol in that span of time. Plus, it wasnt really recommended for professional athletes to drink anyways, so the amount of alcohol he'd consumed since the beginning of the season probably didn't even equate the amount that he'd drank tonight alone. Double Fuck.

And on top of all of that, Quinn had already left. "My wrist feels so much better!" Luke says happily, "I can take off my brace!" As he reaches for straps on his brace, you grab his hand.

"Absolutely not Luke." You lace your fingers with his to keep him from taking off his brace while you try to figure out what to do. Before you know what's happening, there's another full shot glass in front of you, and Luke is knocking it back. Triple Fuck.

"It burns," he pouts, shaking his head like he just ate something sour.

"Luke, how did you even get alcohol? we're underage!" The disbelief is evident in your voice.

The bartender hears your statement and decides that he'd better clear up that misconception before he gets into some kond of trouble. "No ma'am," he says, leaning over the counter. "I checked his ID, says he's twenty, that's legal"

Suddenly, you are very pissed that the bartender is telling you how old your own boyfriend is. Just as you're about to snap at him for clearly not being able to to his job correctly, if he thinks twenty is legal, you remember that you're no longer in the States.

You're in Canada. Fucking Canada. Racking your brain, you try to recall the legal age in British Columbia. You feel so stupid. It's nineteen. Ninteen year olds are legally allowed to drink in B.C. Luke is twenty. Fuck fuck fucking fuckitty fuck.

Before you sprial into a full-on panic, you take a deep breath. Luke is drunk out of his mind, and he needs to get home now, and you panicking will not help the situation. You slap your card down on the bar top and tell the bartender to close Luke's tab.

You don't trust Luke to be left to his own devices, so you sling his arm around your shoulder and half drag him to where you left your phone and purse with Brock. You gently guide Luke to sit on one of the chairs. He does so shakily and wraps one arm around your chest, pulling you flush against his body.

His knees are squeezing your hips, his fingers are tracing over your collarbones, and his face is tucked against your neck.

"Woah! is Huggy Jr. drunk?" Brock asks, grinning madly as he hands you your phone and purse.

"In the span of time that he disappeared, he took six fucking shots" you grumble, as you order an Uber to get home.

Brock almsot chokes on his drink. He stares wide eyes, "oh so he's fucking blackout," he takes his phone and snaps a photo of you and Luke. The glare that you send him is so murderous that if looks could kill he'd be six feet under.

"Sorry," he shrugs with a shit eating grin that says he's not sorry at all, "I need some proof of this for when he wakes up hating his life tomorrow."

"Alright, well, at least send it to me." You grumble, Brock laughs, and your phone buzzes with a notification from him immediately after. "And hey, please don't tell Quinn anything right now. He's probably home and in bed by now, and I don't wanna stress him out unnecessarily."

Brock nods, "Don't worry, kid, my lips are sealed." He sighs like an older brother, "if I was sober, i'd be driving you home."

"Oh Brock, don't worry about it. You guys had great games, and you deserve to celebrate. We'll be fine, I promise," you smile. Your heart melts a little, you've only met the canucks a few times but from the instant that you did they treated you like family.

"Alright, alright, just let me know when you're home safe, I'll feel much better."

"You got it, Brocky," you smile, standing on your tip toes to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. Brock grins like a school boy who just got a kiss from his crush. Thankfully, drunk Luke doesn't decide to make an appearance. Otherwise, he might have absolutely decked Brock in the face.

Not that he would've succeeded, based on how drunk he is. You're almost sure he's fallen asleep. Until his lips start moving against your neck. Quadruple fuck. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud as he nips at your throat with so much care you'd think he was fully sober.

His fingers start to make patterns along your collarbones, dipping lower toward the curve of your breasts. You don't want him to stop.

"Luke," you whisper desperately, laying your head atop his gently.

His hum of response reverberates against your skin, and pleasure melts down your spine, stomach fluttering.

"Luke," you try again, voice strained as his teeth screen against the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder, "not here baby, we're in public."

" 's go home" he murmers into your skin, "wanna fuck my pretty girl."

Your cheeks go red faster than you thought possible. What a time to find out Luke is a horny drunk.

"Luke," his name is a prayer on your lips. The fingers of his injured hand burn as they press into your waist.

" 'm starvin for you baby," he mumbles, the tips of his fingers brushing under the waistband of your jeans.

Heat coils in your stomach, and you bite your lip to keep a whimper from spilling from your lips. As if some Devine power is on your side, you get a notification that your Uber has arrived.

"Our ride is here." Your voice is practically a squeak.

"Want you to ride me." Luke says, and you can feel his lips turn up into a smirk against your skin. You have to cover your mouth with your hand. Luke chuckles darkly. "Pretty girl has to cover her mouth so everyone doesn't know what a dirty girl she is." he hums nosing at your neck. If you're here any longer, you might actually combust. You make sure you have everything because you can quite literally never return to this bar every again.

You help pull Luke out of his chair and drape one of his arms over your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his waist to keep him steady. "Gonna eat you up when we're alone," he mutters, his grin all teeth. He's so fucking beautiful it makes your troat go dry.

You're blushing like a school girl as you help him out of the bar. He's leaning most of his weight on you while he whispers dirty things in your ear. You're surprised that you even manage to get him out of the bar on your own, mainly because his comments are making you weak in the knees. And partially because he's a 6'2, 185-pound man.

You successfully get him into the backseat and give the driver Quinns address. Thank God he lives close. A ten minute drive at most. But unfortunately for you, it feels like hours.  Because Luke had been very perceptive as to how his advances were making you react and continues them with no mercy.

"So pretty f' me" he mumbles, hand trailing up your thigh, lips fluttering over your neck, "gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?"

"Not here, Luke," You whisper, grabbing his hand. You kiss the back of his knuckles and looks at you with such desire in his eyes it takes every ounce of self control not strip and let him fuck you in the back seat of this random car. Your eyes flick to the driver and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, and say a prayer for forgiveness as your lips trail up his hand.

You close your lips over two of his fingers, and he groans, his head falling against your shoulder. "Gotta be quiet, baby," you murmer, squeezing his knee with one hand before closing your lips back over his fingers.

"m' quiet, m' quiet," he murmers against your neck. Then he's grinding his hips against yours, and there's a whimper caught in your throat. The car comes to a stop in front of Quinns building, and you are hopping out of the car like it's on fire and dragging Luke out behind you.

He stumbles into your back, an arm wrapping around your waist, his lips reattach to your neck, and you can't help the moan that slips out. As soon as the elevator door shuts, Luke pins you to the wall with a knee between your legs, and you drag him down for a desperate kiss.

He tastes like alcohol and cinnamon and home. And you never want to let him go. Then he's hissing with fire, a yearning, pleading fire as he grinds his hips against yours. All you want to do is let him have his way, but he's so so drunk. And no matter how many years the two of you have been dating, and how many times you've slept together, you made your decision way back at the bar that you wouldn't go further than kissing and grinding.

The elevator opens on Quinns floor, and the two of you stumble out. You pat your pockets for the keys to his apartment, and fuck- they aren't there. They must have gotten left in his car on the way to the bar.

You knock on the door nervously. One hand wrapped around Luke's waist, and the other braced against his chest. His uninjured hand is tracing up and down your side and in a way that makes it hard not to squirm as he places tender kisses along your jaw.

Quinn opens the door, looking oh so tired, a toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth. Clearly, he didn't expect you back so soon. His eyes go wide at the sight in front of him, and he resists the urge to gag, lest his toothbrush fall out of his mouth.

"Whad da fack!" He exclaims, spitting into the kitchen sink and closing the apartment door behind you. "Is he drunk?"

"Yes, just let me get him into bed, and I'll explain," you say urgently.

"Only going to bed if you're coming with me," he murmers, squeezing your hip, "need m' pretty girl."

"Do you have advil?" You ask Quinn, ignoring Luke's statement, Quinn wisely chooses not to comment as he grabs advil and a glass of water.

You deposit luke on the bed, huffing from his weight. He pulls you down with a smirk. "Wait, baby, let me get your clothes," you say quickly.

Luke wiggles his eyebrows and lets you undress him. You strip him of his jeans and t-shirt leaving him in his boxers. "Be good and drink this for me," you say, sliding the advil into his mouth.

"I'm good for you, baby," he mutters after he swallows.

"So good for me," you assured as he slipped under the blanket. As soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes are fluttering. " 'm tir'd."

You stroke his hair back from his forehead softly. "I know, baby, I know,"

"Still want you," he pouted.

"I know, baby, and you'll have me tomorrow. It's sleep time now, ok?"

"Mm'kay," he mumbles, barely audible. You stroke his hair and mutter sweet nothings to him as he falls asleep. You change into a pair of sweats and one of Luke's devils' hoodies before shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click.

Quinn is sitting on the couch, with two mugs of steaming tea. You flop onto the couch, leaning your back against the armrest and tucking your feet under his legs. He hands you a mug of tea, and you take it gratefully, holding it close to your face and letting the steam warm you.

"So what the fuck happened?" Quinn questions.

"After you left, Luke still wasn't back and I went to find him, I don't know what really happened on his end, but he said he was sad about his wrist, and someone convinced him alchool would make it better." You sigh, taking a sip of your tea.

"Anyways, by the time I got him, he had had six shots in the span of a half hour."

Quinns eyes practically bulge out of his head. He looks like he's running calculations in his head, and his jaw drops. "I know," you grimace, "I'm sorry, I should've watched him better, I knew he wasn't happy about his wrist, and I let him -"

"How did he even get drinks?" Quinn asks, "He's not 21."

"Hush, Y/n, it's not your fault. He's a big boy he knows what he's doing." Quinn says softly, drawing you into his arms.

"Quinn, you don't feel bad either, ok?" You say softly knowing Quinn is beating himself up on the inside. He sighs, purses his lips and doesn't say anything for a long minute.

"It's Canada," you mutter like that explains everything. And to Quinn, it does explain it all.

"Fucking Canada" he mutters shaking his head.

---

Hi guys!! I was very excited while writing this, so I hope y'all like it. Comment comment comment! I love comments, I wanna hear all your thoughts! They always make my day a bit brighter.

On that note, I'm going on a bit of a writing break for a week-ish cause schools getting a bit busy with midterms and final papers and whatnot. I'll still be active, tho (unless i feel like it's distracting, then I might fall off the face of the earth for a bit).

Anyways, with that, I hope y'all have a lovely, lovely evening. Love Soph ♡

[whatwouldsylwrite]

A lil thought for ya: reader getting Abby flowers to congratulate her on winning a hockey game and Abby getting all emotional because she's never gotten flowers before and it makes her feel all special and cared for by her sweet lil gf.

They're super domestic and fluffy in this <3 I'm sorry it took so long, but it just fitted so perfectly after the last chapter because of course reader'd want to do something nice for abby for her first post-recovery game

Abby was finally back on ice after a month of recovery. Her ankle still hurt a little, but she was so eager to be back she sometimes overworked herself - Abby wanted to be in the best form possible before she'd go on ice. It obviously resulted in restless evenings when you'd have to give her painkillers and make her put the brace back so her ankle would rest in a proper position. 

Somewhere inside Abby expected you to treat her like a child and scold her, but you never told her off, not taking away her responsibility for her own health. It felt good to have a partner who knew the line between care and patronising. 

Today was going to be challenging, their opponents were one of the strongest teams in the tournament, and Abby was nervous.

"Fuck. I can't fucking-" Abby swore as she was looking for her socks. 

"What are you looking for?" You asked from the kitchen where you were drinking tea. It was Saturday, and you got to wake up later than Abby who had a morning practice before the game. 

"The blue socks. Oh for fuck's sake." Abby was frustrated, and you picked up on it, immediately leaving your tea and coming to Abby. 

"Hey. You need to take a breath." You held her hands, stopping her from any movement to bring her back. "In and out, come on."

Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself down. She was spiralling and she needed to stop it. 

"I'll look for your blue socks and you go finish my tea, okay?"

Abby nodded and went to the kitchen, still taking some deep breaths: she was getting too worked up. Abby was scared of fucking up today, and it was driving her crazy. She sipped your tea, making herself slow down and just vibe while you were looking for her socks. Abby was sure they were in some obvious place, but her mind just couldn't register them. 

You came back, holding not only her blue socks but also a hairbrush.

"I'll do your hair. Sit."

"What would I do without you?" Abby asked, genuinely thankful as she sat down on a chair, giving you all the control over her hair. If Abby did her hair herself she'd probably get frustrated again with how imperfect it'd look, but it was you doing it so it couldn't be imperfect by design.

"Spiral, lash out on someone and then slam a lot of people into the boards." You shrugged playfully as you braided her hair. 

"Oh fuck you." Abby laughed and you laughed too, kissing her head. 

"It's the first game, you're nervous, of course your head is not in the right place. But I know you'll kick their asses and win tonight. I've seen you practise, you're going to be magnificent." 

Abby pretended she didn't blush from your words, but it warmed her heart. Your support meant a lot to her, and knowing you had her back made her feel safe and calm.

Eric can scream and get punched in the face afterwards, but as long as Abby knew she'd come back to your gentle embrace and soft kisses, she could care less. 

The practice was going well and Abby felt her anxiety going away and letting her competitiveness take hold. She felt powerful, her confidence coming back. Abby was the strongest player in the whole fucking tournament and she was going to prove it. They were going to win and she'd show everyone that the injury wasn't holding her back and she'd still kick everyone's asses even with a weak ankle. 

Boys felt confident too, hyped up as they skated to their positions for the puck drop. Abby quickly looked at the benches to find you and you waved and smiled at her, showing thumbs up. Oh, Abby was definitely going to win when her cutest number one fan was rooting for her. 

The puck dropped and Abby skated immediately, taking it away from her opponents. She felt ruthless and dangerous, not letting anyone get in her way. Abby definitely ignored the pain in her ankle, too high on adrenaline, as she scored again and again. She felt fucking all-powerful, like she could do anything right now. 

"What the fuck, Abby? Are you on fucking drugs today?" Manny said during the first break, laughing, surprised how well Abby was playing.

"(Y/n) is right there man, I can't lose today." Abby chuckled and chugged her water. "She braided my hair so I'm like. Blessed. You know what I mean?" 

"Like you have a lucky charm?" Manny helped. 

"Yeah." Abby smiled, refusing to get embarrassed of how sappy she was.

"You're a fucking simp, Anderson."

"I fucking am." Abby agreed and looked in your direction.

You were in her hoodie (your hoodie now, based on how often you wore it), you hair in a braided halo and you were looking back at her, smiling. Abby felt herself melt and turn into a soft pile of goo, your cute smile and cute up-do just evaporating her "don't fuck with me or I'll kill you" vibe.

"Oh god do I look the same when I look at my girl?" Manny asked with disgust as he watched Abby drool in your direction.

"You look worse." Abby's attitude came back and she was cool and stoic and hot again. "Remember when I had to close your mouth that one time when your weather girl wore a mini skirt?" 

Manny flipped her and they went back on ice, prepared to tear their opponents to shreds. The game was challenging and it wasn't easy to score, Abby got body checked a few times, but she enjoyed the game so much she thought they should ask their rival team for a friendly match after, because they were actually good.

The final horn rang, ending the game with 4:3 and Abby smirked, smug, as she skated back to her team. They won. The fucking won. Take that, Eric, Abby was the best even while she was still recovering. They shook hands with their opponents, thanked them for a game - and today thanks were actually genuine - and went to the players' benches to rest a little and go home. 

Abby took her helmet off as she was stopping before the exit and when she lifted her head back, she noticed you standing right at the exit, congratulating her teammates, hugging Manny. Abby rushed to you, excited, hugging you right away and lifting you up so she could kiss you. She knew she was cold, but she also knew you didn't mind.

"Congratulations." You whispered in her mouth with a sweet smile on your face, your eyes twinkling with love. "You were glorious."

"It's because you're my good luck charm." You giggled and blushed, and Abby just stared at you.

"Stop I'll literally barf." Ellie said behind your back and Abby let you go to hug Ellie next. "You're a fucking beast, Anderson."

"Thanks." Abby chuckled. "We're going to celebrate tonight. You coming?"

"You know I do." Ellie smirked and left you two alone as boys already went to the lockers. 

"I've got something for you." You said and quickly grabbed something from the bench. "Congratulations on the win."

Abby stared at your hands, her chest suddenly tight with emotions. You held a big colourful bouquet to her, filled with different flowers Abby probably didn't even know the names of. Abby took them carefully, still staring at them, absolutely dumbfounded. 

"Thank you." Abby said in a soft voice, getting shy. 

The last time someone got her flowers was when she was a child and was winning her first games: her father always made sure to give her flowers. Her previous partners just assumed that if she was more dominant it meant she didn't want this kind of attention, and it wasn't like she gave it too much thought, not really understanding the whole idea of flower giving. 

But right now Abby felt fucking butterflies in her stomach as she shyly smelled the bouquet, stealing glances at you. She felt giddy and couldn't control her smile even if she tried to suppress it, embarrassed by how plainly happy the flowers made her feel. Now Abby understood what you meant when you said she made you feel like a lady, because right now Abby felt like a fucking princess in front of her knight. You smiled at her, pleased, and Abby blushed more. 

"They're very pretty." Abby murmured as she looked over the bouquet. 

You smiled and Abby smiled back, her cheeks red, and you watched how delighted she was with your little gift, absolutely enamoured with her.

"Do you want me to take them so you can change?" You asked, but for some reason you knew she didn't.

"No." Abby said quickly and held the flowers closer to herself just as you did on your first date, protecting them.

"You're so cute." You chuckled and kissed Abby on the cheek.

"I'm not." Abby said, but you weren't convinced when she stood there, 6 feet of pure muscle and strength, holding a bouquet so gently like it could break, her cheeks pink, looking like a school girl. It was just so endearing and you kissed her again, basking in her.

Abby giggled when your prepped her face with little kisses and glanced at you bashfully, so in love with you she felt like she could explode right there.

"Yes, you are." You said teasingly and Abby just huffed at you. "I like it. I'll give flowers every day if it means you'll look so happy." You murmured as you stroke Abby's jaw on both sides and she rolled her eyes affectionately, still trying to appear cool and confident.

"Maybe every week?" Abby said playfully, but you caught on it.

"Every week then."

And you were true to your promise.

[danikamariewrites]

Hello! Hope u are doing well. I had this thought on how the ic is worried about the reader especially azriel because their mates. She has scarpes on her legs and arms. They think she is hurting berself, they tell her to stop they beg abd cry. She is beyond co fused. Even Nyx is crying because of her state. She says she won't do it again. But.....

She sneeks out at night at when she comes back thay are all wide awake and giving a deathly glare. Reader starts saying that she can't help, she's been doing it since she was 4 and it brings her joy. Az goes balistic. But then Nyx notices a skateboard. The n they realize. Reader explains that she loved skateboarding especially at night and that her old friends came to visit her and they skateboard as well. Thank you!

What Did You Think?

Azriel x reader

A/n: omg this is so chaotic and poor Nyx

Warnings: mentions of injuries, allusions to self harm

Feyre and Nesta enter Rhys’s office and the sight before them broke their heart. Azriel looked distressed. Like he hadn’t slept in days and he seemed on edge. Feyre poured him a cup of tea while Nesta sat next to Azriel, resting a reassuring hand on his forearm.

Azriel takes the tea with a small thank you from his High Lady. “Az, we’re worried about her too. She’s our friend too.” Nesta said in the most caring tone any of them had heard from her.

“She’s part of this family, brother. We’re going to help you two through this.” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I want to talk to her today.” They all nod in agreement. “Whatever you think best.” Cassian said with a reassuring tone.

——

You shut the door and unbuckle your helmet so Azriel doesn’t hear the clip. You were so happy you finally landed that kick flip you’ve been working on for months. You had plenty of scrapes and bruises to prove your hard work and you couldn’t wait to show Azriel.

Throwing your stuff in the hall closet, you rushed into the living room. You stop short, the smile falling from your face at the sight of your family looking somber. “Did something happen?” You ask, cautiously stepping forward. You look to Azriel standing in the middle of the room.

You give him a sad, worried look. He looked distraught. “Y/n, we want to talk to you.” Azriel gestures for you to sit in the arm chair closest to the fire. Azriel kneels in front of you holding your hands. “What’s going on Az?” “Baby we’re concerned about your cuts and bruises. And I…you can talk to me about it. But please promise me you’ll stop.”

You gave Azriel an unsure look. Scanning the room you see everyone matches Azriel’s expression. Even Nyx is crying. If they want you to stop skateboarding that’s all they had to say. You know you should wear more padding but you didn’t know Azriel cared this much.

“Ok. I’ll stop, and things will change.” You give him a small smile and your family seems to let out a collective breath. Nyx even wiggled out of Feyre’s arms to jump into your lap. “No more ouchies Auntie y/n?” You brush Nyx’s hair back as he looks up at you. “Yup, no more ouchies or boo boos Nyxie.” He cuddled up to you and wouldn’t let go until you and Feyre took him to bed.

——

Later that night while Azriel was asleep you found yourself tossing and turning. You were still excited about the tricks you could do now that you could do a kick flip. Slowly, you lift Azriel’s arm from your middle so you can slip out of bed.

You quietly dress and head downstairs to get your board and helmet. Leaving through the front door you happily head to the skate park.

Minutes later Azriel stirred, blinking his eyes open he sees your side of the bed empty. The sheets still warm. Your scent still fresh. Azriel shoots up and starts searching the house for you. When Azriel found the front door slightly open he freaked out, immediately screaming for Rhys in his mind.

——

An hour later you’re creeping back into the house. The lights turning on made you jump and drop your skateboard. Turning, your friends are standing behind you. Azriel is looking at you with an anger you’d never seen before.

“Where were you? We talked about this. You said you’d stop and you come home with new cuts.” His face fell as he held your shoulders. “Where were you?” You struggled to get your words out. You felt like there was some misunderstanding between you and your family.

Before you could respond Nyx cam wobbling down the stairs, his little wings struggling to stay up as he rubbed at his eyes. “What’s that?” He points at with a chubby little fist.

Everyone looks behind you at the skateboard. You move out of Azriel’s grip and pick up your board. “It’s my skateboard, Nyx.” You gently push it over to him. “Skateboard?” “Yeah Nyx. You stand on it and use one foot to push. You can even do tricks on it.” You smile at him as the toddler sits on it, pushing with his feet and giggling.

“Skateboarding? You’ve been skateboarding?” You look up at Az from your crouching position on the floor. “Yeah, I’ve been trying new tricks and that’s where all these scrapes and bruises came from. One of my old friends was in town and she was teaching me new stuff.”

Everything clicked for Azriel. You disappearing. The constant cuts and bruises. But you were happy so that was what troubled Azriel. He was relieved that you were just falling off your skateboard.

“I’ve been skateboarding since I was a kid. What did you guys think was happening?” Azriel dropped to his knees, embracing you. “Thank the mother.” You hugged Az back patting his back. “It’s ok Az. I’ll just wear more pads.”

Back in bed wrapped up with your mate you were still confused about what happened. You’d talk in the morning though. Right now you were just happy he wasn’t about your lack of protective gear while skateboarding

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 11: The Sly Fox

Hmm…any guesses what this chapter could be about? 😜 Also, thank you to those who are keeping up with this story. Your comments keep me motivated 🥰

33 days until Competition

“No.” 

“Come on, Elain.” 

“No.” 

“Chicken.” 

“I am not!” 

There was only fifteen minutes left for their designated ice time, and the pair had spent ten minutes bickering about a new move Azriel wanted to incorporate into their program. Elain declined without hesitation, and Azriel pulled out every trick in the book to persuade her into reconsidering. 

“It’s just a simple curve lift. It’s easy enough,” Azriel tried again, hands gripping the sides of his waist. He looked like a perplexed parent, and Elain stifled a laugh. 

“To you,” She emphasized. “I’ve never tried anything that complex. My past skating programs were…”

“Boring?” 

Elain huffed, arms folded over her chest. He wasn’t technically wrong. “I was going to say basic.” 

“Even so, I never pegged you as a safe skater, Elain.” Azriel taunted. The slight flare of her nostrils brought a smirk to his lips. “I figured you would appreciate taking risks.” 

“Not risks where–if they end poorly–could slice open your thigh,” Elain said through gritted teeth. The move was dangerous. Azriel, clearly, was a sucker for thrills and had no regard for any potential life threatening injuries.

“You’re worried about me,” He teased, poking her cheeks. Her natural blush was slowly but surely becoming his favorite color, second to the lovely shade of her eyes.

Elain rolled those pretty eyes, swatting his hand as her heart thumped. “Don’t think too deeply about it. Of course I care about your safety.”

She cared about a lot more than just his safety. She wouldn’t admit it, though. 

Comforting hands settled on her shoulders. Azriel bent down to her level, hazel eyes promising. Though he always wanted her to have fun and be silly, he knew when to be serious. She appreciated how he could read her so easily. “I need you to trust me, but more than that I need you to trust yourself. I know you can do this, Elain. I wouldn’t suggest we try it if I believed you couldn't do it. But if you feel strongly about not adding this into the routine, I won’t push you. It’s your choice.” 

Choice. 

She was growing accustomed to that word over the last few days. 

A choice when to practice, and for how long. A choice of what spins or step sequences to add to their program. A choice to spend more time together, grow their relationship. It felt empowering to have that sense of control back in her life. 

Elain exhaled through her nose, softening her features as she said. “If this ends badly, I am not visiting you in the hospital. I’ll send flowers with a note that says ‘I told you so’.”

He laughed, taking her hand to twirl her a few times before pulling her close, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. Azriel’s platonic affection was also new to her. He held her hand. Smiled big and bright and beautifully. And was apparently a huge fan of feeling her skin on his lips. One could interpret his actions as romantic, and—and it certainly felt like it, but it wasn’t unusual for skating partners to be adoring. A part of her heart twisted.

“We both know you’d be the first person at my bedside, Elain. No point in trying to deny it, either.”

She hummed. 

Fine. He was right, but there was no reason to tell him. 

“And what about me?” Elain asked curiously, blades digging into the ice. “Would you be the first person at my bedside if I were to get hurt?” 

“Of course I would,” He answered firmly, thumb running over her knuckles.“But we don’t need to worry about that. You’ll never be injured on my watch. I won’t allow it. I’ll take care of you no matter what.” 

Something crackled in the air around them. 

Elain coughed, hoping he wouldn’t find her rude for changing the subject before she could dwell on his promise. “So. When do you want to do this? After the twizzle?” 

Azriel shook his head. “It’ll be best after a pattern dance step. First, you’re going to balance on one skate while I grab your ankle and the back of your leg like this.” He guided her through the movement, solidifying his grip on the base of her ankle. A grip that would never, ever let her falter.

“While I’m doing that, you’re pushing up to stand on my thigh, and then you’ll swing your other leg around so the weight is distributed evenly. And to make sure you’re secure during the curve, my hands will wrap around the front of your thighs, holding you in place.” 

He continued the demonstration, positioning Elain’s body into the lift. She wobbled briefly, but Azriel did as he said. His hands came around to clutch the front of her thighs, his touch warm on her skin. The lift was held for three seconds, completed by Elain pushing off his thighs and spinning once in the air, Azriel catching her easily before lowering her skates to the ice. 

“So?” His grin sparkled, and Elain allowed herself one brief moment of adoration as she gazed at the slight chip in his tooth. “What do you say? Think we can add it to the program?” 

Elain considered, pursing her lips in thought. The element was bold and daring, and it could add even more depth to their program, something the judges would be looking for. And he believed in her, seemingly more than anyone else ever had. 

She relented with a chuckle. “You haven’t led me astray so far, so let’s do it.” 

With newfound enthusiasm, they rehearsed the lift for the remainder of the time slot. It was messy and needed work, but the pair was eager to perfect it. They were so immersed in the new element they failed to see two skaters gliding toward them. 

“You’ve used up ten minutes of our ice time.” 

Elain had almost lost her balance at the displeased voice. Azriel caught her with ease and set her down on the ice in front of him, his chest pressed against her back. 

Lucien stared at them, voice cold yet his face was the portrait of indifference. Instinctively, Elain’s hand found Azriel’s, squeezing once. Lucien clocked the movement, humming to himself. 

“What are you talking about?” Elain asked, only now noticing the stunning woman a few inches behind him. She tensed when the woman looked her up and down, and not in a way that made Elain feel comfortable. 

“I said, you’ve used up ten minutes of our ice time,” Lucien repeated, rolling his eyes. The woman snickered, linking her arm with his. “What aren’t you understanding?” 

“Watch how you speak to my partner,” Azriel said lowly, vein straining in his neck. Elain ran a thumb over his scarred knuckles. “I've got about a million reasons to make sure you leave this rink with broken legs. Don’t test me.” 

Lucien clicked his tongue, but offered no rebuttal. It was a smart move on his end. Something told Elain he knew Azriel would follow through on the threat. She’d never heard his voice darken the way it just had. Something stirred low in her stomach. 

“Temper, temper,” The woman purred, eyes flashing wildly. “I usually like that in a man, but I would advise against threatening my partner in front of me.”

Elain froze. Behind her, Azriel stiffened. His hands slid on either side of her hips, holding her in place. “I’m sorry?” 

“Elain, Azriel, meet Vassa,” Lucien introduced, a sly smile painted on his mouth as she dipped her head. “My skating partner.” 

Skating partner? 

Impossible…he dropped out of the–

Oh. 

Oh. 

“What the fuck do you mean skating partner?” Azriel questioned, eyes darting between Lucien and Vassa. His anger was palpable, skin ablaze against her own. She thanked whatever deity existed that his hands were on her waist. She was two seconds from pouncing. 

“Well, after our little incident, I simply could not let my chances of securing the gold go to waste,” Lucien explained. Elain noticed how Vassa’s lips thinned, how she regarded her with disdain. “Vassa and I will be representing the Autumn Region in the competition.” 

Every new piece of information gave Elain whiplash. 

“Incident?” She squeaked, eyes burning. Azriel’s grip tightened, his hold on her grounding and comforting all at once. “What the hell are you talking about? There was no incident. You–.” 

“I think we’ve chatted enough, don’t you?” Lucien cut her off, eyes hardening in challenge. He reached for Vassa’s hand. “Now, If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to use whatever time we have left to practice our routine.” The duo dismissed themselves toward center ice without another word. 

Blood rushed through her ears, skin warm and clammy.

She couldn't believe it.

The abandonment. 

The betrayal. 

The lies. 

No sadness or heartbreak filled her chest as it did weeks ago.

It was replaced by rage.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Azriel whispered as they skated off the ice. They took to the bench, aggressively flinging their skates into their bags. 

Elain nodded, hands gripping the edge of the bench. A new fire crackled in her heart. She turned to Azriel, whose own demeanor had taken on an air of fury. “Yeah. We’re winning this fucking thing.” 

The rage that had reared its head hours ago had finally dissipated into annoyance and an unshakeable contempt for redheaded men. Freshly showered in a pair of mauve leggings and a baggy white t-shirt, Elain had been pacing in her kitchen for the past 20 minutes, alternating between chewing her slice of strawberry shortcake and biting her thumb nail. 

She could make peace with the fact Lucien had lied to her. She could make peace with the idea that he found it so easy to betray her. And now she had to accept the idea that he may have more tricks up his sleeve. Could he go as far as potentially sabotaging the competition? Ruining what very well could be her last chance at receiving a gold medal? She would have said no if the question was posed months ago. Now, she didn't know what to believe. Maybe he had always been sly and cunning, and her willingness to see the best in people blinded her. 

And the more she thought about it, the more irate she became. He had jumped through hoops to abandon her, when she would have accepted his honesty even if it pained her. Clearly, in his mind, she wasn't even worth the truth. 

The clock on the wall read just after eleven at night. She huffed, tapping her fingernails on the counter once, twice, three times before deciding to visit the one person she knew would be awake. And on her trek over to his home, Elain had one single thought.

She hoped Azriel had wine, because she was going to need it. 

The matte black doors of his home were truly a welcoming site. Standing on the top step, Elain decided that she probably should have sent him a message and asked if he wouldn't mind a visitor. She hadn't even thought about if he had an early morning practice, or perhaps a game in the early evening that he needed to be well rested for. Even with those thoughts running through her head, she knocked on the door anyway. 

The door swung open, and Elain didn't even give herself a second to take in his appearance before she let herself in. Nor did it register for Azriel who was standing on his front doorstep until she was brushing past his body in the foyer, expertly sidestepping his hockey helmet. 

“Please tell me you have Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, or something stronger,” Elain said by way of greeting, pushing past his frame until she was stomping straight toward his kitchen. 

Dazed, Azriel blinked twice and pushed the front door shut with his index finger. “Hello to you, too, Elain.” 

He didn't have much choice but to follow her into his kitchen. One shoulder against the wall, he folded his arms and watched her navigate his kitchen with an amused smile gracing his face. He had so many questions. 

What the hell was she doing awake at 11 at night?

Why was she frantic?

Why didn’t she ask him to pick her up?

Why did she look so good with tangled wet hair and an oversized t-shirt? 

Why did his heart race and his cock twitch at the mere observation that she looked comfortable in his home? 

After scouring all of his cabinets, she spotted half a decanter of brandy and decided that would do for now. She grabbed two crystal tumblers and poured a finger width into each. Brows raised to his hairline, Azriel watched as she knocked back her glass in three gulps, scowled, and then refilled her glass, walking toward him with both. 

Before he could accept the tumbler, Elain froze abruptly, liquid sloshing in the glass and slightly over the edge, dripping onto her fingers. 

Azriel frowned, attempting to remove his glass from her hand. She only stood there with a pounding heart, eyes trained on the base of his throat. 

Elain croaked, “Why are you wearing my necklace?” 

Azriel stilled. Almost robotically, he tipped his head downward, where the gold chain with a cursive letter E was on display against his black compression shirt.

Fuck. 

He’d been so careful, keeping it hidden underneath his shirt during practices, hockey games, nights out with friends. And now here she was, the rightful owner of the jewelry, with an expression on her face he couldn't read. 

“Why did you come over, Elain?” A lame attempt to divert the subject. 

She swallowed, handing over the glass with a shaky hand. The last time she saw that necklace was seven years ago. It hadn’t been in pristine condition back then, and certainly had lost its color now. “Well, I was in the mood to rant about the unexpected visit we received today at Snowspell, but now I think I want to talk about something else.” 

Fair enough. 

He motioned toward the living area, and they settled into the couch nearest to the fireplace. Azriel tucked his foot beneath his opposite thigh, sipping his brandy as Elain settled into her own spot, throwing a blanket over her legs. She crossed them under the cashmere blanket, settling the drink in her lap. 

“You’ve held onto it all these years.” Not a question. 

He nodded sheepishly. “I had every intention of giving it back to you at first, I swear I did. And then you left the rink without it and I just…” A shrug. “I barely saw you after that. And honestly, I wasn't sure how you would react if I sought you out. Or worse, really, how your mother would.”

Elain shivered at the thought. She could already picture Mama’s scowl along with her…colorful language. 

Azriel traced his finger around the glass rim. Pink bloomed high on his cheekbones as he said, “You've been my good luck charm for a while, Elain.” 

She almost spat out the brandy. Blinking, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“After putting on the necklace, I won the next three ice dance competitions,” He admitted, watching Elain’s brows rise. “I’ve also played some of the best hockey of my life. A small piece of you has been with me for years. Without even realizing it, you’ve been part of some of the best moments in my life.”  

She looked at him then. 

Really looked at him. 

Not just the warm eyes and strong, beautiful features. 

Not just the tattoos or the sweatpants hanging very low on his hips or the happy trail peeking out from underneath his shirt. (Though, she may have stared just a tad longer than necessary, and he may have caught her doing so and shifted a bit in the couch so more of his skin was exposed.)

But she looked at him and realized there weren’t enough words in any language to describe how important he’d become in just a short amount of time. There weren’t enough words to reflect how much she admired him, and how much his unyielding desire to see her happy had started chipping away at the walls around her heart. 

And as he went to remove the necklace, she crawled across the sofa with the blanket and brandy and curled up beside him, stopping him with a gentle, “Keep it.” 

Azriel gazed down at her, their noses only a few centimeters away. He had to pause himself from leaning forward and burying his face into her hair. “Why?” 

Elain shrugged, throwing half the blanket over his legs. He splayed his arm along the back of the couch and breathed out a sigh of relief when she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Because it’s yours.” 

There was a brief moment where she was unsure if she meant the necklace or her heart. 

What she did know, however, was that something changed between them that night.

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: HERE

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics