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sunsetchicane · 6 months ago

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i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year.

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport.

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked.

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out.

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?”

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went.

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied.

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it.

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed.

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena.

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line.

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?”

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.”

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act.

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!”

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?”

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her.

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no.

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon.

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island.

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him.

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions.

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless.

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them.

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind.

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you.

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been.

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench.

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart.

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss.

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away.

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned.

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much.

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years.

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded.

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players.

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you.

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you.

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it.

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto.

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you.

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned.

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel.

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling.

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands.

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest.

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks.

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you.

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile.

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building.

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted.

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while.

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver.

“Thank God you actually showed up.”

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you.

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took.

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?”

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-”

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-”

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?”

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.”

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture.

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie.

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away.

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely.

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?”

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.”

“You think?”

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek.

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.”

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?”

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.”

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly.

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night.

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.”

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possiblystancest · 4 months ago

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Stan is definitely not used to after care, he probably never had it, so when Ford starts to do it after their first time, he’s just so confused and dumbstruck. My poor boy has had so little care. Ford is especially gentle after a rough/domineering session

Stan's sex adventures never had aftercare- it was either pump and dump, a quick glory hole fuck or drunken sex that had Stanley wake up in his hotel room alone with a wicked headache- and those three more often than not were Stan selling his body to stay alive during his mullet days so the only "aftercare" Stan saw was a crumbled bunch of bills that kept him from living out of his car in the dead of winter.

Cut to when he and Ford fuck. Stan is ready to just roll over in bed and sleep. But, he jumps when he feels the slightly damp sensation of a cloth rubbing over his back- Stan's brow raises as he looks back at Ford.

"This uh, this mean we ain't done?"

Ford sorta hums a bit, "Just applying some aloe, gave you a bit of a friction burn," he explains as he tenderly applies.

He soon taps on Stan's shoulder, a nonverbal ask to roll back onto his back. Cupping Stan's face gently with both his hands as he tells him he did very good.

Stan is dumbfounded. He blinks slowly, not quite sure what do.

It sorta sinks in for Ford that Stan probably hadn't received aftercare before. Which just has Ford want to provide the absolute best aftercare he can give to his brother😤

#stancest

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mommahughes19-23 · 8 months ago

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Close as Strangers - B.B

“Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone, every day it gets harder to stay away from you”

summary : Brock’s playing in the stanley cup with the team. He looses and you tell him how you really feel. you’re a nurse and you’re overwhelmed and miss him.

A.N : Wrote this on my break, edited. enjoy tho. xoxoxo,M

You stand over your last patient of the day, an elder woman who on any other day you would feel bad for and have way more compassion than you do at this current moment. You live in Minnesota and you’ve known the Boeser family since you and Brock were in diapers, born a week apart and your mom’s both attending the same ‘mommy and me’ group. You are currently interning at Minnesota State Hospital as part of your last year in grad school, and to say it was overwhelming was an understatement. You and Brock typically spoke every night despite the time difference, yet lately you guys spoke maybe 5 minutes per week with the busy life you both had. Brock was still in Vancouver as the Canucks were still in the playoffs, you worked 12 hours 5 days a week.

“Miss Nurse, can you give me my meds and be gone” the patient you had just given meds to not less than 5 minutes prior had dementia and again any other day you would be more calm, but after getting thrown up on, slapped by an older patient also with dementia you had had it. “I just told you I gave them to you!” you raised your voice and huffed out. Your coworker looked at you as if to say he would finish up and you should head home for the night. You walk to the center reception desk and clock out not bothering to say anything to anyone, grabbed your bag and walked out to the elevator. You felt your phone buzz to life as you were prohibited from carrying it during your shifts as it was a distraction, 13 missed calls from Brock… You click his name and call him back though it’s only 5am your time so 2am his.

“Hey bug.” he says through the phone, “Hey sorry B, I was at work what’s up?” you tried your best to hold in your emotions but you had been so ready to let the tears flow once you got to your car it was like a leaky faucet that just got worse. “Well we lost, we are out of the play offs. The guys probably hate me for not playing.” you honestly felt numb for a moment, trying to process how you would comfort your best friend and suppress your own emotions. You thought you would be able to just pour your heart out through the phone to Brock like you used to and he would say all the right things like he always did, 6 weeks or 6 months since he’s been away. Hockey and the idea of the Canucks not making it through to the finals were the least of your worries. None the less you responded “I’m sorry to hear that B, not your fault though, you need to remember to take your health seriously. You’re of less use hurt than you are on the side for a little. The guys understand.” you say shaky as you comfort him in the way you longed for him to do for you.

“I know but this blood clot thing was the last thing I needed and it just sucks that I couldn’t be there in person to cheer them on.” “I hear you but you can’t focus on the what ifs. But uh- is it uhm - is it cool if I call you back in a little. I just- just got off and I’m gonna head home.” you say slightly hiccuping trying not to let the tears fall.

“Bug, are you ok? You sound like you’re about to have a panic attack, and don’t say you’re fine I can tell you’re not.” He responds. You let the tears start flowing and you’re honestly scared that you may not be able to stop. “I don’t know Brock, I want to be a nurse so bad and I have worked so hard but these long hours and missing you and not having you here to comfort me I just don’t know how to do it.” You say in one breath. “I don’t want to give up because all my work will have been for nothing but, how the FUCK do i get through this lack of sleep and pressure”. “You miss me?” he says as if he is oblivious to you’re hints you have been dropping for months now. “Yes of course, you’re the only one who knows how - how - how to help me when- i -i am like this. I think I love you.” you say through your sobs.

“Forget the stanley cup we can mourn my loss later, baby I can tell through the tears that I shouldn’t have gone to Vancouver, and I want you to know it gets harder every day to stay away from you. I want to fly you out to all my games and I want you to wear my jersey and I want to call you mine baby. What do you say, I’ll be back home in a few days, can you wait for me a little longer and we can talk in person?” “I’ll wait forever for you, I can’t wait to have you back home.” “I love you bug.” he says, you smile so big and wipe the rest of the dried tears. “I love you more.”

“6 months since I went away, and to know everything has changed, and tomorrow I’ll be coming back to you.”

Tags : @skylershines @puck-luck @quinnylouhughesx43 @noahkahansorangejuice

gimme feedback thanks. will edit around 8 my time.

#hockey #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl players #vancouver canucks #brock boeser #nhl fluff #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #brock boeser x reader

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writingwithciara · 1 month ago

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friends -brock boeser-

summary: they were best friends who accidentally slept together

word count: 4.3k

pairing: brock boeser x reader

notes: was listening to ‘friends’ by jordy, emma løv & loote when i came up with an idea w: sexual content (but no smut), domesticity, friends to lovers, angst & fluff

the vancouver canucks were out celebrating after a playoff win & brock was watching his best friend dance with her other friends. she was having fun and had no care in the world.

that was one of the reasons he admired her. she never cared what anyone thought of her. ever.

and it was refreshing to brock. he was someone who cared about his career and almost always felt a little hurt when fans got upset about a play he made during a game.

after about 10 more minutes of dancing, y/n made her way over to the table and took her seat next to brock.

"what are you thinking about, mr boeser?" she tapped the side of his head to get his attention. he shook his head and looked at her.

"just trying to figure out how you're always so upbeat and positive. you never let anything or anyone get to you. you also never take anyone's shit it's a quality i really admire."

"really? you admire me?" she raised an eyebrow and added a smirk. "that's cute, brock."

"that's all you took from what i just said?" brock couldn't help but chuckle. y/n was always making jokes.

"of course not." she smiled. "i wish i could tell you why or how i'm so positive all the time, but i have no idea myself."

"i wish i was more like you sometimes."

"why would you want to be like me? i'm nothing special." she looked up at him. "besides, you're brock freaking boeser. you're already perfect."

that was the last thing either of them remembered before they woke up the next morning.

y/n buried her face deeper into brock's chest before her eyes shot open and she took in the scene in front of her. brock was asleep and as far as she could tell, they were both naked. she gently shook brock awake.

"good morning. uh, when did you get here?"

"i'm assuming sometime last night." y/n grabbed her shirt from the night before and pulled it over her body before climbing out of bed and searching for her pants.

"did we-"

"yeah. we definitely did." y/n avoided looking her best friend in the eye. "how did it happen?"

"well, first of all, when a man and a woman decide that-" brock began with a smartass look on his face.

"i know how sex works, brock. i meant how the hell did i have sex with you? you're the one person i consistently told myself to not get involved with. and of course, i ignored my own warnings and now everything is ruined between us."

"nothing has to change between us."

"are you serious, brock? everything is going to change. it's all going to fall apart and i'm going to lose my best friend. how could i have been so stupid?"

"you're not stupid. we were drunk." brock got dressed. "look. let's just pretend this never happened."

"brock, i saw you naked. i can't pretend it didn't happen. as much as i want to, i can't unsee what i saw."

"well that's what i'm going to do because i can't lose you, y/n. you're my best friend. so what if things get awkward between us. what's new there? we're strong enough to get over other obstacles and we're definitely strong enough to make it out of this alive."

"i hate when you're right." y/n sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him. "so, we pretend it never happened?"

"right. we can do this."

but forgetting something so monumental proved to be way harder than they thought.

the canucks were on an incredible winning streak and were one game away from being the stanley cup champions. and with each win, came a celebration.

and just like with each celebration before, y/n was there. the same events played out but y/n and brock tried to avoid each other. whenever brock looked over at his best friend, all he could picture was the intimate night they shared. as much as he wanted to forget, he just couldn't. they had crossed a barrier that would never return to normal. they were fools to believe they could ignore the tension.

so, after a few hours of celebrating and drinks, y/n found herself dancing with brock. the alcohol they had both consumed was fueling them & they were finally ignoring the 'deal' they made the last time they were within close proximity of each other.

"congrats on the goal tonight, brock. you were amazing."

"thanks." he looked down at his best friend and images of their night came flooding back into his brain. "y/n what are we doing?"

"dancing, silly. what else would we be doing?"

"no. i meant our friendship. what are we doing? we promised ourselves we'd get over the obstacle but we've done nothing but avoid each other."

"brock, can we not do this now?"

"then when, y/n? because this is the first conversation we've had in weeks. and damn it, i miss you." he sighed. "i can't keep doing this."

"brock."

"i'm serious. we need to have an adult conversation."

"fine. let's go somewhere more private." y/n sighed in defeat and followed brock out to his car. when they got in, brock didn't start the car. he didn't want to drink and drive. y/n looked at him. "i'm sorry things got weird. and from what i remember about that night, i was the one who initiated the hookup."

"yeah. you did." brock let out a low chuckle. "look, if you want to be more than friends, i totally get it. i'm irresistible."

"eww. no." y/n smiled. "i don't want to be more than friends. i think what we have now is absolutely perfect."

"you're my favorite person, y/n. i don't want to lose you again." he reached over the console and held her hand. "i don't know what i'd do if you left and never came back."

"brock." y/n sighed and placed her free hand on his cheek. "you don't have to worry about that. i'm right here. i always will be."

"good." brock looked into her eyes and before either of them knew it, their lips and tongues were fighting against each other.

"we really shouldn't be doing this." y/n let out a breathy moan when brock's lips traveled down her neck.

"are you going to stop me?" brock stopped kissing her neck and looked up with a smirk.

"absolutely not." y/n pulled him closer. "uber?"

"yes. absolutely." brock opened the app and quickly ordered a ride. the wait wasn't long and they both couldn't keep their hands off each other while they waited.

in the back of the uber, they continued what had started in brock's car. y/n's lips were quick in finding brock's while his hands held her tightly.

when they got to his place, brock unlocked his door as fast as he could. he couldn't wait another second. he needed her.

the next morning, y/n woke up with a huge headache. events from last night were flashing in and out of her mind but she couldn't piece everything together. she had no idea what had lead to her waking up in brock's bedroom again but she understood the feelings she was suddenly having.

brock's side of the bed was empty so she turned on her side and looked around. there was water and some tylenol on the nightstand, along with a note.

sorry to leave you like this. you looked so peaceful and i didn't want to wake you. but i had to go to practice. as always, make yourself at home. i'll be home around 4 & i think we need to talk. -brock

y/n took the tylenol and sipped on her water. when she got out of bed, she grabbed a pair of brock's sweatpants and her shirt from the night before. she checked the time on her phone and decided that she had just enough time to make some food for brock before he got home. she knew he'd most likely be starving after a long day of practice so she went to his kitchen and began her quest.

around 4:30, the front door opened and brock set his bag down in the front hallway. a wonderful smell filled his nostrils and he followed it all the way to the kitchen. when he saw y/n stirring something at the stove, he couldn't stop the feeling that bubbled up in his chest. he also couldn't pinpoint the exact meaning of it.

"hey. what are you making?" brock smiled as he walked up to her.

"i'm making burgers. not only are they delicious, but it was pretty much the only meal i could make since you don't have a lot of food in your kitchen." y/n turned to face him and smiled. "i hope you don't mind."

"i don't mind at all." brock sat at the counter and watched his best friend.

"how was practice?"

"it was great. quinn fell several times and it was funny every time because each time it happened, it was more dramatic than the time before it."

"poor quinn." y/n shook her head but couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. "i'm glad you had a good day then."

"the good day was only possible because of you."

"what did i do?"

"everything we did last night." he looked up at her as she placed a burger in front of him.

"brock, i love you and i don't want to mess up what we have. plus, i'm not looking for a relationship. you know that."

"i know. i'm not either." he picked up his food while y/n stood in front of him. "but you can't deny that last night was pretty amazing."

"you're right. it really was."

"maybe there's a way we can retain this friendship while still fooling around."

"you really think that will work?" y/n looked skeptical but even she couldn't deny that it sounded like fun.

"we already love each other & have a strong relationship. we can definitely do this. but if you're not comfortable with it, i'll stop asking about it." he looked back over at her. "there's nobody i trust more than you to do this with."

"i'll feel better if we put a time limit on it. like, maybe we test it for a week. if everything goes well, we can discuss it further."

"okay. sounds like a solid deal." brock held out his hand like it was a business transaction. y/n shook it with a smile.

"should we make a schedule?"

"i think once a day should work. if we're both up for it."

"i agree." y/n and brock finished their food at the same time. when y/n went to grab his dirty plate, he smirked.

"why not start now?"

"certainly falls right into the schedule." y/n took a deep breath and left the room. when brock didn't follow her, she turned around. "are you coming or not?"

"oh." he hopped off his stool and they both quickly made their way to his bedroom. it didn't take long for the clothes to be thrown around the room.

the next morning, y/n woke up before brock. she looked over at him and smiled. he looked incredibly peaceful. but maybe that's how anybody would look if their team was one win away from being stanley cup champions for the first time ever.

she got out of his bed and headed to his kitchen. she wanted to cook his breakfast but there wasn't a whole lot of options in his cupboards. so she went on doordash and ordered them both some breakfast. while she waited, she decided to clean up their dinner dishes from the night before.

"good morning." brock spoke in his morning voice. it startled y/n at first but when she turned around, she couldn't help but smile.

"hey. i hope you're hungry because i ordered some breakfast. it should be here any minute."

"i'm starving. thank you." he placed a kiss to the side of her head and sat down. "are you coming to the game tonight?"

"of course. it's the biggest game of the season, brock. i wouldn't miss it for anything."

"good. because i'm gonna need you there in case we lose."

"you're not going to lose." y/n circled around the island and stood next to where he was sitting. she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "you guys have been playing consistently strong these last few weeks and i have so much faith in you. there's no way you can lose this."

"god, you're amazing at pep talks. did you know that?"

"no. i didn't. but i like hearing that i'm good at something other than dancing."

"you're good at a lot of things, y/n. cooking, pep talks, dancing, singing, photography, sports, sex."

"now you're just trying to make me blush." she smirked.

"is it so bad that i want to see my best friend blush?" he lifted her chin and made eye contact with her.

"no. i suppose it's not." y/n bit her lip and closed her eyes. she wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible before having to face reality.

luckily for her, the doorbell rang a few seconds later and she went to answer it. she grabbed the food and headed back to the kitchen.

"you got my favorite food." brock smiled and began digging in. "oh, this is amazing. you are a freaking goddess."

"figured you would want your favorite on the biggest day of your career."

"you were right." brock smiled and slowed down.

"everything okay?"

"absolutely. i was just thinking about how i got lucky having you in my life."

"i think i got luckier." y/n smiled and reached for his hand. "you're my best friend and i love you so so much."

"i love you too." brock smiled widely and finished his serving, opting to save the rest for later. "i gotta get ready for practice. but the game starts at 8 so you should get to the arena-"

"an hour before. i know the drill." y/n smiled and put the food containers in the microwave. "alright go get ready to kick some ass in the final game."

a few hours later, y/n was sitting in her designated spot in the arena and was watching the players skate around. brock kept passing by and looking at her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face. she also noticed quinn was smiling at his buddy too.

on the ice, as the team did their warm ups, quinn skated up to brock with a smile.

"so, what was that all about?"

"what?"

"every time you skate by y/n's seat, your smile gets bigger and bigger. there's not something going on between you guys is there?"

"of course not. she's my best friend. why do you ask?"

"because i kinda have a thing for her and was planning on asking her out after the game tonight. whether we win or lose."

"oh. why have you never told me that before? i could've put in a good word for you."

he was very clearly lying. there was no way he could see y/n and quinn becoming a thing. he didn't think it wouldn't work at all. and not because he knew quinn was technically her type. no. it was because, no matter how hard he tried to stop it or deny it, he had feelings for his best friend.

"would you do that for me?"

"of course. what are friends for?"

"thanks man." quinn skated away and looked up at y/n with a smile. she waved back at him and focused her attention on brock. whatever he was talking about with quinn made him skate faster and play harder.

by the end of the first period, brock had attempted several shots on the seattle net and only one made it in. he also had an assist on a goal made by quinn. it should've been a good night for him but quinn's words rang through his ears. he wondered if y/n would be happier with quinn than with him.

he didn't let it stop him from playing his best and by the time the 2nd period was over, he had scored 2 more goals. y/n cheered the loudest in the whole arena, at least to brock she did. her cheers were always the only ones he heard when he played. and suddenly, the feelings for her became overwhelming. he needed to do something about their situation before one of them got hurt.

when the final buzzer went off, the score was 5-3. meaning vancouver won the stanley cup. quinn, conor and brock were being celebrated by the team and as they made their way down the tunnel, quinn stopped and turned towards brock.

"hey, listen. i have to apologize for what i said earlier."

"what do you mean?" he was confused.

"i meant when i said i had a thing for y/n. i really don't. i was just saying that to get a reaction from you. and i clearly did. you played great tonight and i know it's because i got under your skin. i'm sorry but i know you have deeper feelings for y/n than you let on."

"don't know what you're talking about." brock chuckled and shook his head. he didn't know how quinn figured it out.

"you don't have to lie to me. i know a lot more than anyone thinks." quinn looked at his friend and then over his shoulder. "your girlfriend's waiting for you."

"she's not my girlfriend, quinn."

"not yet, my friend." quinn smirked and greeted y/n kindly before walking into the locker room.

brock stopped in front of y/n and smiled. "hey."

"hey. you were amazing out there tonight, brock." y/n threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"thanks. i tried."

"is there anything you can't do?" y/n looked at him and smiled.

"well i don't think i can handle my jealousy very well." he half chuckled but looked down at y/n.

"what do you mean?"

"um, quinn told me he was planning to ask you out after the game."

"oh."

"what would you say if he actually goes through with it?"

"i would have to say no." y/n looked down at her feet as she let brock go. "he's great but not the guy i see myself spending the rest of my life with. why do you ask?"

"because i was gonna set you up with him." brock chuckled. "but now i know it won't work out. such a shame though. he really liked you."

brock didn't know why he was lying. but he did anyway.

"he did?" y/n shook her head. "now i feel bad. i mean, maybe one date wouldn't hurt. right?"

"y-yeah. you're right." he looked at her. "are you sure you want this?"

"why not? i'm single. he's single. he's a good guy. but it's only one date. let him know that."

"okay. i'll be right back out." brock went into the room and walked to quinn. "okay here's the deal. i told y/n you wanted to ask her out and she agreed to one date."

"okay. but i don't actually have a thing for her. does she know that?"

"no. i told her you really liked her and she felt bad so, yeah. one date. that's all i'm asking for you to do."

"okay. i guess i can do that." quinn looked at brock. "so, when you told her that i really liked her, was that just a cover up for your own feelings?"

"yes, damn it. i don't know how you know about that."

"i know everything." quinn smirked and headed to the shower. brock went back to the hallway to tell y/n the plan.

the following night, y/n met quinn at a restaurant not far from brock's apartment. when he saw her, he had to stop himself from looking at her like she was the object of his affection & not brock's.

"you clean up nice, quinn."

"thanks. so do you." he pulled out her chair for her and went to his own seat. "you know, i honestly didn't think brock was gonna set this up when i asked him to."

"oh really? why's that?"

"i thought he had feelings for you. i was so sure of it, just based on the way he acts around you and without you. but if he did have those feelings, he wouldn't have set this up, right?"

"yeah. right." y/n was confused. if brock had feelings for her, then why would he propose their deal in the first place?

after an hour of eating and conversation, quinn quickly changed the subject.

"can i confess something?" he managed to mutter between bites of his dessert.

"of course." she was interested now. "what's up?"

"i only told brock i was going to ask you out so i could find the truth out."

"what truth?"

"whether or not he had feelings for you. and even though i said earlier tonight that he wouldn't have set this up if he did, i think he did it because he does have feelings for you & was doing this to cover them up. plus, judging by the way he reacted when i brought up asking you on the date, i can safely say that my theory was confirmed. he's into you, y/n."

"that can't be possible. he's my best friend. n-nothing more."

"people say that all the time. but sometimes, it turns into more. and between you guys, the chemistry is electric. and obvious to everyone but you apparently."

"if he has feelings for me, why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"fear of rejection and losing the relationship you two already have. it's a very common fear."

"okay, fair enough. but he knows he can tell me anything and it would never ruin our friendship."

"well, you just used the word 'friendship' so that might be why he didn't tell you."

"i suppose." y/n finished off her drink and looked at quinn. "how do i get him to confess how he feels?"

"i may have an idea. but it may not be a very bright one."

"give it to me." y/n leaned closer to listen to every detail of the plan.

by the time they left the restaurant, y/n and quinn had a solid plan to get brock to finally admit how he felt. she was supposed to go to his place and tell him that the date went great and that they had scheduled another one. she hoped it worked.

when she walked into brock's apartment, where she would be staying the night, brock looked over his shoulder. he paused his show and turned towards her.

"hey. how was the date?"

"oh. it was surprisingly great. he was awesome and did everything a gentleman should do."

"oh. that's great." brock looked down at his lap.

"it was. we have another date scheduled for saturday night."

"wait, really?"

"yeah. we figured since the date went so well, we'd make time for another one."

"oh. well i'm happy for you." brock sighed. "quinn's a good guy and you deserve to be happy."

"i know i do." y/n sat next to brock and looked at him. "do you think quinn and i are good together?"

"honestly, yeah. i don't think there's anyone better for you than quinn."

"i do."

"what?"

"i think there's someone out there better for me than quinn." y/n shook her head, a smile slowly beginning to appear on her face. "it's you."

"what are you talking about?"

"do i seriously have to spell it out for you, boeser?" y/n shook her head again and leaned closer. "you are better for me than anyone else could ever be."

before brock could respond, y/n climbed into his lap and kissed him. he hesitated for only a second before he began kissing her back. his hands went up to her face and she smiled into the kiss. when they finally pulled way from each other, y/n smirked.

"do you get it now?"

"i think so. but just in case, maybe we can try that one more time, just to be sure?"

"i think we can do that." y/n smiled and kissed him again. brock held her hips and laid her on the couch gently. as his lips moved down her neck, he started to hesitate. y/n grabbed his face and moved it to her line of vision. "brock, i love you. this is perfectly okay. don't feel like you're going to break me."

"okay. i wasn't hesitating because i was afraid." he smiled. "it's just now hitting me that you love me too. it doesn't feel real."

"it's the most real thing i've felt in a long, long time."

"me too." brock's smile kept growing wider and wider until it started to hurt. but he knew he was truly happy.

and when y/n's lips found his again, he took his time. he savored every second of their interaction. his hands slipped under her shirt but he didn't move them until y/n nodded.

with her permission, he moved them up and y/n pulled her shirt over her head before reaching for his and doing the same.

unlike all the other times they slept together, this time was different. it meant more to the both of them and they wanted to take their time.

it was real and it was exactly where they were meant to be. wanted to be. needed to be.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser fic

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karmaticfeild · 4 months ago

Text

What is 9/11??

Fandom- Gravity Falls

Pairing- N/a

Summary- Ford learns about 9/11 in a very unique way.

Warnings- 9/11, this is a shitpost

Word count- 1,545

A/n- This was written very quickly. Also the first time writing any of these characters. More serious stuff will be posted later on, but this is mostly just a fun time! I hope you guys enjoy.

———————————————————————Stanford sat out on the porch, the sun shining brightly on him. After 30 years of running in the multiverse it was nice to have these moments of relaxation. Sure, coming back to see his home turned into a tourist trap was a shock, and learning that his brother was impersonating him during that time was a bitter stab to the stomach. But everything figured itself out. Bill was defeated, his family reunited, and the Stan O’ War had sailed the wide ocean. New creatures that Ford couldn't have imagined sat as memories in the pages of the newly made Journal 4.

Dipper was ecstatic to see what Ford and Stanley had found, almost seeming to burst out of his skin from excitement. It was nice to have someone to talk about his adventures to. When Dipper had shown his own journal, Ford felt pride well into his chest. A blue Pinetree was on the cover with a painted one in the middle. Ford insisted on Dipper showing what was held in his own journal, and with some convincing Dipper did so. Dipper and Ford spent hours talking about each other's adventures.

But what had surprised Ford the most was the present he received from Mabel. A blue knitted sweater with a 6 fingered hand in the front. When he saw the gift, Ford couldn't keep tears from falling down his face. He couldn't help but think about the gift that Fiddleford had given him all those years ago. The same warm feeling of love filled his chest as he hugged Mabel tightly.

As Ford reminisced, he couldn't help but feel bad for his old self. The self that pushed people away, that thought that he was the only smart person in the world. That nothing wrong could happen to him because of his intellect. What a fool he was. But Ford couldn’t be happier. He had a family that cared for him, and he has his brother back. Who knew that trusting people could be a good thing?

As Stanford enjoyed the sunlight, he could hear someone opening the door beside him. In the corner of his eye, Ford could see Stanley walking over to him and sitting on the sun-worn couch with a cup in his hand. They sat in silence, simply enjoying the sunlight.

As they sat, Ford's brain filled with ideas of what to do with the children. As fun as it would be to stay at the shack for the summer, Ford couldn't help but feel that they should go somewhere for the summer. A couple places came to mind. Washington would be a good place, there were lots of historical monuments that would be interesting for Dipper and ford. And there is a very nice art museum for Mabel to enjoy. But Ford couldn't help but feel like the kids were too young for Washington. Nashville would be another fun place to go, and it would help with Ford's “ancient music tastes.”

With a snap of his fingers, Stanford quickly turned to Stanley with a wide smile on his face. “Wouldn't it be fun to take the kids to the World Trade Center?” He was careful to not spill his coffee as he turned back to the sun. He also ignored the way Stanley choked on his drink and looked at Stanford in shock.

“It would be fun for the kids! We could go to the top of the towers and look over New York. And I bet there are plenty of shopping centers for Mabel to look around!” Stanford rambled on and on about why it would be best for the family to go visit the Twin Towers as Stanley tried to process what his brother was saying. Surely he knows about the bombin-

Oh god, Stanford doesn’t know about 9/11.

Stanford noticed his brother's silence. He looked over at Stanley with confusion as he frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Stanley coughed loudly, trying to distract his brother from his own confusion. “Uh, yeah yeah! Everythings alright Pointdexter. Just remembered that I uh,” Stanley rubbed the back of his neck, “Just remembered that I promised the kids some Stancakes. Have to get to work on them!” Stanley stood up quickly, almost spilling his coffee as he walked back into the shack.

Stanford looked confused as he watched Stanley walk away. Did he say something wrong?

As Stanford tried to figure out what he did to make Stanley leave, the said brother was trying to figure out how to explain what happened on 9/11 to his brother. He had forgotten that American news would not be dimension wide news. Or he had assumed that Stanford would have heard about it somehow on the internet. Stan dragged his hands down his face as an idea popped into his head. He made his way to the stairs. Walking up, he yelled up to the kids, telling them that he needed some help with something.

—--------------------------------------------

“What am I looking at?” Stanford sat on the t-rex skull in the living room. He looked perplexed at the table that sat in the middle of the room with a white cover on top. Mabel and Dipper stood on opposite sides of the table, Dipper looking like he would rather be somewhere else while Mabel seemed excited. Stanley sat in his yellow armchair. Stan was surprisingly quiet in Ford's mind.

“Well…” Dipper tried to not make eye contact with Ford. Performance anxiety?

Stanley turned to Ford, a grim expression on his face. “Remember the other day, you were talking about taking the kids to the World Trade Center.”

Ford nodded. He was confused, what did the World Trade Center have to do with all of this?

“Ya see Sixer,” Stanley nodded over at Mabel, almost like he was asking her indirectly to take over.

Mabel sighed heavily. “Grunkle Ford, you were gone for a loooong time. And there were so many things that happened. Good and bad!! So me and Dipping Dot are going to give you a history lesson! Behold!” Mabel and Dipper reached for the bottom of the cover and lifted it up, revealing two towers made of what appeared to be paper mache?

It was obvious to Ford that the towers were the Twin Towers, but what did this have to do with a history lesson.

Unless.

“Did something happen to the World Trade Center??” Ford asked, looking very concerned.

“Shshshs! You’re gonna spoil the experience Grunkle Ford!” Mabel looked at Dipper, waiting for him to do something. Rummaging through his pockets, Dipper pulled out a handful of notecards. Staring at the cards, Dipper started talking about Osama Bin Laden and al-Qaeda. Ford nodded along, taking in what he was hearing. Stan would glance at him occasionally, making sure that his brother was okay. But he stayed quiet.

As Dipper spoke, Mabel was looking expectantly at Dipper. As if she was waiting for something.

“On September 11, 2001, there were… there were,” Dipper looked up from the notecards, feeling nervous from the intense gaze that Ford directed at him. Taking a deep breath, Dipper looked back at the cards.

“There were 4 planes hijacked by members of al-Qaeda. One of those planes,” Dipper paused, letting Mabel grab a small plane from one of her pockets. “One of the planes… hit the first Twin Tower.”

Mabel directed the plane to the closest tower to her as she jabbed it into the paper mache. A puff of glitter erupted from the tower as she pulled the plane out. Ford looked at the twins shocked, his mouth wide open. He jerked his head over to Stan, questions on the tip of his tongue.

“Don’t ask me Poindexter! The kids are teaching, not me.”

Dipper coughed in his hand, trying to get his Grunkles attention. “If it changed anything, Great Uncle Ford, the glitter was Mabel's idea.”

Mabel put a hand up to her chest, feinging a stab wound. “It’s called creative liberty Dipper! It gets the point across much better than NOT having the explosion of glitter!”

Ford was still in shock as the kids argued between each other. “But there were four planes, right? What happened to the other ones?” Ford sounded almost scared to ask.

Dipper and Mabel turned to Ford. Dipper put the note cards back into his pockets. “One of them hit the other tower-”

Dipper cringed as he saw Ford’s face look pained. “But one of them only hit a field! Didn’t hurt anyone. Well, I think anyway.” Mabel spoke, trying to help her Grunkle a little.

Ford moved his hands up to his temples, rubbing them. This was a lot to take in. “So, both of the towers were hit by this Bin Laden guy. And one plane hit a field. Do I want to ask where the other one hit?”

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other nervously. They fell silent. Ford’s shoulders tensed up as he waited. Nothing could be worse than the towers getting hit.

“They hit the Pentagon Sixer.” Stanley spoke up, taking a sip of his Pitt Cola.

“THEY HIT THE FUCKING PENTAGON??” Ford looked at the kids and Stanley with horror. The kids will never give another history lesson to Ford after this.

#gravity falls #Stanford pines #Stanley pines #Dipper Pines #Mable Pines #9/11 #this is not to be taken seriously #more stuff to come #bookwrites

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hockeyboysimagines · 1 year ago

Text

F*ck me like I’m famous

Chapter 1

Warnings: Sex, mentions of alcohol/Bars, some language.

Pairings: Vince Dunn x Josie Hendricks(OC)

There’s no summary for this because I’m literally winging it as I go. But I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think🤍 I promise I’ll update my unfinished fics. My hiatus for the summer is over.

Big shoutout to @cellythefloshie for helping me title this thing, and all the support and encouragement.

He’s actually the most beautiful man on the planet I think.

“What the hell is a Stanley cup?” Josie yelled over the pounding music of the club she was in.

“It’s what you win in the NHL I think.” Kelly, her best friend yelled back “Like at the end you win it. It’s like a trophy.”

“And it’s this big of a deal?”

Josie had never seen this club, or any club like this before. It was packed to the brim, bodies practically crushing other bodies all of which were screaming. The ones closest to the bar were being occasionally drowned in champagne, or beer or whatever was spraying from a bottle. She had no idea what the Stanley cup was, or who was celebrating it but they sure were having a good time.

“I guess so.” Kelly shrugged, standing on tiptoe to see across the bar. Now and again someone would let out a cheer and the whole club would join in.

“I’m getting a drink.” Josie yelled, motioning to the bar and pointing. Kelly nodded and turned back to the rest of their friend group as Josie made her way slowly to the bar. It took ages to get there, and she avoided champagne spray twice, but finally she arrived at the bar getting the bartenders attention and practically screaming her order. She drummed her fingers on the bar turning to look for her friends when a spray of champagne splashed across her shirt and halfway up her neck. Her mouth fell open and she gasped, eyes closing on instinct before she glanced down at the foam and liquid dripping off her cream colored shirt, which was now see through.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry-“ the guy holding the bottle said. He was staring at her mouth open, gripping the bottle in one hand “Really I’m an asshole, uh here do you want a napkin? My shirt. I’ll give you my shirt-“

“No it’s fine really-“

“No seriously hold this.” He tried to push the bottle into her hands and remove his shirt.

“No please keep it on I-“

“Schwartzy you idiot what are you doing?” She turned to find another person had joined them.

Josie was certain she was looking into the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen. Attached to them was a very nice looking face, which was connected to a very very hot guy. She realized she was staring at him, mouth open with a shirt that was now completely see through and blushed.

“Hi.” He said with a smile. He gave her a once over, eyes stopping momentarily over her visible lacey pink bra and then landing back on her face.

“Hi-uh hi.” She smiled back, face on fire. He patted “Schwartzy” on the shoulder and chuckled, fixing his shirt which was half off of his body, before turning back to her.

“Sorry about him. He’s had just a little too much.” Vince attempted to tug the bottle from his hands but he protested.

“I have not-“

“I’m Vince.” He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, finger brushing hers in a way that seemed unnecessary, and gave her small goosebumps, and made her face get red.

“Josie.”

“Like Josie and the pussycats?” They both turned to find that Schwartzy was still standing there with his champagne bottle in hand, blinking at her and smiling.

She chuckled and nodded “Yes exactly like that.”

“No shit?” He blinked again and looked at Vince. Vince however was still looking at her, smile still present.

His black t-shirt was soaked in liquor and sticking to him in a way that left very very little to the imagination, even in the darkness of the club. She watched as his eyes moved down her, slower this time before coming back up and gesturing to her shirt.

“I’m sorry about that. He can be a real idiot.”

“You mentioned. It’s okay though. I was about to head home anyway.”

That was a lie. Josie had no intention on heading home but she was now soaked in champagne, had a headache and was now uncomfortable being this exposed in front of the extremely hot stranger named Vince.

“You can’t leave!” Schwartzy slurred at her “We’re celebrating! We won THE STANLEY CUP!” He held his arms up and turned to the crowd who started screaming along with him. She laughed and turned to Vince who was smiling.

“He’s right. You should stay. Let me buy you a drink. My way of apologizing for my dumb friend here.”

Josie bit her lip and glanced over at her friends who were talking with a group of guys. Vince’s arm appeared over her shoulder and he leaned down closer to her face.

“Those are my friends, and I’m pretty sure those are your friends. And they look busy, and you look thirsty so please. Let me buy you a drink.” He smiled a very bright white smile, and Josie smiled back at him in spite of herself.

“Well. Okay. Sure thanks.”

He put a hand on the small of her back and led her to an area a little further away from where they had been, that was slightly more secluded.

“Much better.” He said pulling a stool out for her and gesturing for her to sit “I could barely hear you.”

He turned to order her a drink and then turned to look at her. He was fantasy hot, almost intimidating if she was being honest. Guys like him didn’t bother with girls like her, and yet here he was buying her a drink and sitting across from her.

“I’ve never seen this place so crowded.” She remarked glancing around before looking back at him “I didn’t realize hockey was this big of a deal here.”

He grinned “Oh yeah? You don’t like hockey?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t know anything about it.” She smiled and he felt his stomach do a little swoop.

She was beautiful, not in the way he was normally accustomed to seeing, but beautiful all the same. It had been a long time since he’d been around girls that weren’t models, that it took him a back to see just a regular girl, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t refreshing. There was something about her that was so simple and natural that it made her 10,000 times more attractive to him than any model could ever be. The best thing about her is that she could be a model if she wanted, but she didn’t seem the type. Which was nice.

What made her even better was that she didn’t seem to know who he was at all. She was just a girl, accepting a drink from a guy at the bar, both of whom happened to be caught up in this Stanley Cup Championship party. She had no idea he was a hockey player, and if she did she was a great actress because she looked genuinely clueless as she watched the celebration unfold.

“You should watch it sometime.” He said offhandedly passing her the drink the bartender set on the bar top.

She shrugged “‘Maybe. I don’t like violence though. Seems kind of dangerous and risky.”

“Not a risk taker?”

“Me?” She shook her head and leaned forward to sip her drink through the straw “Not at all. I don’t like risks, danger, fast cars, or this drink Ew.” She scrunched her face up “I don’t drink very often and this is why. That was terrible.”

Vince chuckled “So what do you like?”

You she thought to herself. God was he gorgeous. She’d obviously known right away that he was more attractive than your average guy but he was something else up close. He was so good looking he didn’t seem real, and maybe he wasn’t. This was her 5th drink, and she usually strictly enforced a two drink limit. For all she knew she may be hallucinating him, or this could all be a dream.

“Oh I don’t know. I’m pretty boring actually. I’m not that interesting.” That was partially true, at least in her mind. Her friends were free spirited and fun, which left her to mostly play “Mom.” She spent most of her nights out looking after her friends, and most of the time she just didn’t wanna do it. She loved them, but always having to babysit got old after a while.

“Now that I find hard to believe. Your the most interesting thing I’ve seen all night.”

She quirked an eyebrow “Oh yeah? How so?”

He gestured around “This just doesn’t seem like a place I’d find a girl like you in. I can tell your uncomfortable.”

“Okay true. I mean I’m mostly uncomfortable because my shirt is now see through, but even before then all I wanted to do was leave.” She smiled a little and shrugged, watching him as his eyes moved a third time over her shirt and then back up to her face “Nothing against a night out, it’s just not really my thing.”

“We’ll if going out isn’t your thing, how do you feel about dancing?” He jerked his head back over his shoulder to the dance floor “Is dancing your thing?”

“For you it could be.”

She followed him to the dance floor, a thrall of excitement moving through her as he turned to look behind him to make sure she was there, and then extended a hand so they didn’t get separated in the thick of the crowd. He slid his fingers in between hers and tugged her by the hand. She wasn’t a huge dancer, but she wasn’t going to say no to being that close to him. Especially when his hands settled on her waist and she was flush against him. She was thankful for the pounding music of the club to mask the pounding of her heart that was so loud she could feel it in her ears.

The alcohol was beginning to blur her senses and her nerves died down as pounding music shook the floors and reverberated into her ears. Vince’s hand was warm on her waist as they moved to the music. Josie pulled back a second to look up at him, hair spilling back over her shoulders, brushing against his hand. His other hand came up to her shoulder, finger tracing across her collarbone as he pushed the rest of her hair over her shoulder. He stared at her for a long moment, eyes moving from hers, to her mouth back up to her eyes.

And then he was kissing her, right there in the middle of the dance floor while people yelled and carried on around them. It was a kiss unlike any other she’d ever had. It sent a butterfly that went from her lips all the way down to her lady parts and stayed there flapping away.

Next thing she knew they were making out in the back of an Uber, and then stumbling into his apartment. She usually had a strict rule of not going home with guys she just met, for self preservation purposes, but he was just too beautiful to be a serial killer. And if he was, then she hoped the sex was good before he decided to murder her.

Her shirt, which was stiff from the dried champagne on it went first, thrown haphazardly to the side as they grabbed at each other in their haste to get rid of clothes between them. Then his shirt and pants, her skirt, both their shoes until finally they were both down to their underwear. He grabbed at her waist and turned her, both of them landing on his mattress, hands all over each other.

Josie’s whole body was shaking in anticipation as his hand moved down her waist, and slid slowly in between her legs. She closed her eyes as she felt Vince’s tongue slide across the skin of her neck, teeth grazing her skin. She let a breath as he bit down on her collarbone, pelvis grinding up against her own as he settled between her legs. He looked up, a lock of hair hanging across his forehead and smiled at her, lips moving down her chest and to her abdomen. She could feel his hot breath somewhere near her belly button and propped herself up to look at him.

The muscles in his shoulders rolled under his skin as he moved slowly down and pressed an open mouth kiss on her lower stomach. She shivered and watched as he ran a finger over the band of her underwear. He glanced up again, eyes piercing her soul. He never broke eye contact as he let his mouth ghost over the fabric of her underwear. She gasped, arms becoming rigid as he did it again, mouth pressing more firmly against the fabric. Her head fell back and she clamped her eyes shut. If this was what normal sex was like, she’d been missing out.

She felt her stomach flip flop as he pulled both legs up and propped himself up on his elbows. He splayed a hand across her stomach and gave her waist a squeeze.

“Can I take these off?” He said, giving the waist band a small snap. Josie nodded and lifted her hips so he could slide them down her legs. The apartment was mostly dark, which she was thankful for as she felt blood rush to her face, and heat creep through her body as he pulled them over her feet, tossing them to the side. It was illuminated enough however, both by the city lights and the full moon that was beaming through the window, that she could see him clearly enough as he leaned down again, finger tracing up her leg to her inner thigh.

“Vince I-“ she said shakily, but he gave her leg a reassuring squeeze.

“Shhhhh. Let me take care of you.” He said lowly, with a small smile as he leaned down to kiss her inner thigh. She felt like she was going to explode, by the time he made his way back up her body. A thin sheen of sweat had now covered both of them, she felt his abdomen brush against her own and realized he had come back up to be level with her face. She had been so preoccupied with his activities between her legs she hadn’t even noticed he stopped. He kissed her heavily, leaving a wet trail around her mouth, and kicking his boxers down his legs. He pulled away and let out a huff, leaning over her to pull open a bedside drawer and gosh put a condom. He opened it with his teeth, and rolled it on, pushing her legs open wider.

She closed her eyes as he slid a hand across her chest and up her neck, resting on her jaw.

“Hey.” She opened them to find him staring at her “Ready?”

She nodded and took a deep breath, glancing down between them but he pushed her head up “Look at me.”

She shivered as he pushed in slowly at first, head falling forward as he pulled out and pushed in more firmly. While Josie wouldn’t consider herself “inexperienced”, she felt it at that moment. He definitely knew what he was doing and for the first time in her life she was worried about her performance.

But she had little time to think more about it because Vince grabbed her left leg and pulled it up, pushing back in, causing her to gasp. He grinned and did it again, finding a rhythm.

Josie felt like she was on fire. Her whole body was in sensory overload, and she felt almost feverish. But it felt good. In fact she felt better than she had in a long time. He let go of her leg and and leaned forward, kissing her heavily. She gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he continued to move in and out, agonizingly slow. His fingers came around her throat and he squeezed lightly, as her eyes slid closed and she arched her back off the bed.

He kissed her throat, and up the side of her face till he found her mouth, stealing her air as he moved his lips roughly against hers as he pushed harder and faster. Josie let out a ragged breath and bit her lip to hold in a scream, fingers gripping the sheets.

“Scream.” He whispered in her ear, hot breath tickling the side of her neck. He threaded a hand through her hair and gave it a tug, cranking her neck back, which made her illicit a gasp and a moan. He smiled down at her “Good girl.” He whispered tugging on it again.

Josie felt the beginnings of what turned out to be a blinding, toe curling orgasm that made her scream as it roared through her body, making her shake. Vince rode it out, face buried in her neck.

Her eyes closed and opened several times to find him staring at her.

“You okay?” He ran a hand over her chest and up her neck, thumb stroking her jaw. She smiled sweetly at him and touched his cheek, nodding and pulling him down to kiss her.

He pulled out and laid next to her, attempting to catch his breath. He glanced over at her. The light was only illuminating her silhouette in the darkness of his apartment, but she looked perfect. She rolled on her side to face him and smiled.

Her eyes slid closed and she stretched, letting out a breath. He could see her glancing around and she made a move to get up and before he could stop himself he blurted out “Do you wanna stay?”

She stopped, sheet pulled up around her chest before he continued “Its pretty late and it just started to rain.” He nodded at the window, which indeed had raindrops beginning to form on it.

“I mean. Sure I guess? If you want.”

He gave her a once over, and smiled. Sheet pulled up around her chest, face flushed, hair tousled around her shoulders and back, hell yeah he wanted her to stay “I do.” He reached forward and let his hand run down her shoulder, before pulling her over and kissing her, which went on for several minutes before he pulled away.

He was exhausted, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Go to sleep.” She murmured, kissing him once on the cheek before settling in next to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and then they both promptly fell asleep.

**********

Josie woke up, blinking several times before she realized she wasn’t in her own apartment. It was still dark, and her body felt tired, but that didn’t stop her from easing her way out of bed. She moved slowly, inch by inch out of bed, until she felt her feet touch the carpet. She slid out of bed, crouching on the floor and feeling around for her bra, slipping it on and then her crunchy shirt, which reeked of champagne.

“Ew.” She whispered holding her breath as she pulled it over her head and turned to look for her underwear. She heard Vince cough and turn in his sleep and she froze, until it was silent again.

“Where the fuck are they?” She hissed to herself, crawling across the floor, hand sweeping out until she felt the lace brush her fingers. She slowly pulled them on, then her pants and crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, grabbing her shoes and crawling out the door. She straightened up, catching her balance and tiptoed through the apartment, hoping to god he didn’t have a roommate that she would run across. The apartment was huge, and she almost got lost as she tried to remember how to get out. She hadn’t really been paying attention on the way in, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally found the door and eased it open, before pulling it shut behind her. She kept her head down as she made her way to the elevator, and last a few straggling people in the lobby part of the apartment building, hoping her walk of shame wasn’t evident, and into an Uber. Her phone said it was 5:15 as she leaned her head back, eyes closing. The woman behind the steering wheel glanced at her but didn’t say anything except to have a good day when she pulled up to Josie’s apartment.

She trudged up the steps, dropping her shoes and keys by the door, and shedding her clothing as she made her way to her bedroom. She landed on her bed like a zombie, and fell fast asleep.

**********

“You whore!” Jennifer said throwing herself down and pointing at Josie “Tell me EVERYTHING.” She slapped her hand on the table getting the attention of the rest of the group.

She frowned and glanced at the others “Everything about what?”

“About this.” She held up her phone and Josie’s mouth fell open. There, on a public news website was a picture of her and Vince, kissing, over top of the title “Blues celebrate Stanley Cup win.”

“So can you explain what your doing in this photo?”

The others leaned around all letting out a gasp and an excited squeal.

“What does it look like I’m doing

“Wait a second. You went home with Vince Dunn?” Allison said open mouthed.

Josie frowned “Yeah? Do you know him?”

“Yeah but the question is why don’t you know him?”

“Should I?”

“His team just won the Stanley cup so probably.”

“Wait hang on pause.” Josie waved her hand “You mean HE won the Stanley cup.”

“Yeah he plays for the Blues. Is today your first day on earth?”

“I don’t watch hockey how was I supposed to know who he is.”

Jennifer picked up her phone out and typed something on the screen and then turned her phone so Josie could see it. There he was. Vince Dunn, defenseman for the St. Louis blues.

Josie was a little surprised. She’d talked with him for a while and he hadn’t once mentioned he played hockey. To her, he was just a guy in a bar who happened to be there at the same time she was. He hadn’t used “I’m a Stanley cup champion“ as a line not one time.

Then again though she supposed he didn’t need to use any lines when he was walking around looking like that.

“Did you get his number?”

“For what?”

“To see him again idiot.”

“It was a one time thing. I’ll probably never even see him again.”

“Ugh!” Allison said waving her hand “Your the worst. You go home with an NHL player and you don’t even get his number.”

Josie shrugged and pulled her phone up, zoning out from the rest of the conversation.

An NHL player.

It was almost too unbelievable to be true, but it had to be because there was a picture of them kissing that was now making the social media rounds, and it was clearly him in the google photos she’d just seen. It was only fitting that on the rare occasion she decided to go home with someone, it would be a professional athlete of all things. And one who had just won what appeared to be a pretty prestigious trophy from what she understood.

She wanted nothing more than to leave her lunch early and google Vince until her thumbs hurt, but she’d promised her girlfriends lunch, so she would just have to wait till later. She stuffed her phone in her bag, and turned back to the conversation with her friends, putting Vince in the back of her mind.

************

“Have you seen this?” Brayden’s voice jarred Vince from his daydream as he shoved his phone in his face. It was pictures of Vince mid make out with Josie his mystery girl from last night.

“That’s gonna be fun to explain to your mom.” Sammy giggled from his left. Vince blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off. You can’t even tell that’s me.”

“Bro it made the news of course people know it’s you.”

Vince closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He was so hungover he was still drunk. He woke up with a splitting headache, alcohol oozing out of his pores and found his bed empty, much to his dismay. He thought for a second he had dreamed her but now he’d seen newsworthy photos of himself with his tongue down her throat so he knew she was real.

“Dunner. Are you planning on joining us during this parade or-?”

Vince rolled his eyes and took the beer that was being held out to him.

“He’s here but his head and the rest of him is still in bed with that chick. What was her name Jennifer? Jessica?” Schwartzy said eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“Josie. Her name was Josie. And I’m not thinking about her. I’m just hungover.” He mumbled.

He was lying. He was thinking about Josie. Though he wasn’t really a “friends with benefits” kind of guy he might change that for her. He usually hooked up with a girl and then maybe if it was alright hooked up with her again but usually not more than twice. He’d made the mistake a few times of keeping girls around too long and they always caught feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone’s feelings because he was only interested in sex, and they were interested in more than that. Last night had been great enough to sober him up, and apart from the good sex he actually really enjoyed talking to her. She was smart and funny and she had absolutely no clue who he was.

He wanted to kick himself in his own ass for not getting her number and letting her slip out without even getting her last name. He was delighted and a little surprised to find a long list of Josie’s in a 50 mile radius but immediately deflated when he found that none of them were his Josie.

The parade was large and loud, and his excitement overrode his disappointment about Josie. There would be plenty of time to find her later.

Right now he had a cup to celebrate.

He would find her later.

**********

Josie made her way out of Target bags in hand, and unlocked her car. She had planned to go home, immerse herself in a boiling hot bubble bath, and have a long sleep after her night of no sleep the day prior. She sighed, mind floating back to Vince. She’d made the choice to not google him, because really what was the point? She’d protons er see him again and there was no good reason to learn more about a guy who she wasn’t planning on having any type of relationship with. What she had done the night before she never did. Like never ever. It had been kind of exciting to break the rules though if she was being honest. But that was over now and she was back to being boring old Josie, who never went home with random guys.

“So you are real?”

Josie jumped, and then turned at that all too familiar voice and found Vince making his way towards her. She smiled and closed her car door and small jolt of excitement surging through her. What kind of a coincidence was it that he was here right now. She silently thanked the father, the son, the Holy Ghost, and every other diety that came to mind as he came to a stop in front of her.

“Last time I checked. You can pinch me if you want.” She extended an arm. He smiled but looked like he wanted to do a whole lot more than pinch her.

“I thought maybe I’d dreamt last night because there was no way you just fucked my brains out like that and then bounced.”

Josie’s mouth fell open for a split second and blood rushed to her face. Vince’s smile widened and he braced an hand on the top of her car, and leaned his head forward a little. He knew exactly what he was doing to her right then. She let her eyes move over his face. She’d really missed out on some of the finer details the night before.

While he was gorgeous in the glow of the neon club lights, and possibly even more gorgeous over top of her, illuminated by only the lights of downtown St. Louis, he was even better looking in the daylight. She realized she was openly staring at him and closed her mouth, clearing her throat.

“Yeah Uhm, sorry about that. I’m not good at the whole ‘morning after’ thing I guess. Just kind of figured I’d never see you again.” She laughed nervously and glanced up at him “But I guess that was unrealistic considering that you won the Stanley cup.” She smiled mischievously.

His smile faltered a little and he chuckled “Ah. Who told you?”

“My friends. They saw the pictures and had a hissy fit that I didn’t tell them I went home with a Stanley cup champion, and that I didn’t even get his number.”

“Well I guess to make your friends feel better we’re going to have to change that.”

Sometimes he was too smooth for his own good. He could feel heat radiating off of her, and everything about her body language screamed nervous, but in a good way. She kept fiddling with her hair and blushing, and he was sure he was heading in the right direction.

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she typed in her number and handed it back to him.

“Here. For the sake of my friends I’ll give you my number.”

“So I’ll call you.” He said pushing off the car and taking a step back.

She smiled “Sure.”

He smiled and turned on his heel, and she got into her car. She had just put the key in the ignition when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” She looked up to find Vince leaned against his car, phone to his ear, and he gave her a wave.

“Hi Vince.” She let out a small giggle and smiled at him through her windshield, which he returned.

“What are you doing now?”

Josie smiled “Whatever your doing.”

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stuckinnet · 1 year ago

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since jam requested it, here are a few highlights from sid’s interview on the latest 32 thoughts:

Q: “The night you flew in, I guess, to meet with Dubas, is that not true then?”

A: “Naw, so what happened is he was coming to visit and I had just got back from vacation and it just happened that I was coming back into town for a day or two before leaving again. And, uh, they said that he was going to the practice rink, so I just happened to be there at the same time and had the opportunity to meet him. But it wasn’t, like, some- It was really last minute.”

Q: “You’ve rolled your eyes at me a lot over the years. That was a good one.”

A: “Yeah! I didn’t fly in. Actually the way it worked out it was perfect. I was literally home for like an hour. He happened to be going to the practice rink. So it worked out well. I could go meet him and say hi. At that point nothing was for sure. I think he was trying to check things out, get a lay of the land and take a look, so it was far from being permanent, and it just worked out well.”

—

Q: “I reached out to some of your teammates and one of them said ‘I don't know if I've ever seen him as pissed off as he was at the end of last season’. What pissed off Sidney Crosby last year?

A: “How it was just such a struggle for us to find consistency…. We were kind of chasing it from early on but we had put ourselves in a spot to get it. It wasn’t like it was a miracle. We needed to win our last two games to get to go through all that. That's something we had done in years past. And we didn't do it this time. So that was frustrating.

And there's nothing better than playing in the playoffs. At this point that's the most exciting thing. You get up for the matchups throughout the regular season and you have that motivation, but playoff hockey - that's why you play.

You just crave that. You crave that atmosphere, that environment and the opportunity to win the Stanley Cup.”

—

Q: “There's someone who said to me that they really think that what the NHL needs is you and Connor McDavid on the same team playing for Team Canada. That's what this sport badly needs… Who moves to the wing?”

A: “I go there (laughs).”

Q: “No! You’re supposed to say he goes there!”

A: “(laughs) Listen, I’ve skated with him. And I've played both. I think I'm good either way with playing centre or wing. Whatever he wants to do, he can carry the mail. I'll just find the open spots.”

#i need to see him rolling his eyes please #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #connor mcdavid #edmonton oilers #kyle dubas

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the-sin-hole · 5 months ago

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concept: stanley pines featuring in a cliche coffee shop romance au fic but he fucking sucks sooooo bad at it

“you want a flat white? yeah, i think i can get ya one of those!” he leans forward and winks confidently, followed swiftly by a flash of awkwardness once he realizes how horrible a flirt that was.

“h-heh, anyways, lemme getcha your drink.”

he tries to recover, straightening his posture as he walks from the register to the espresso machine. he puts the grinds in the portafilter- you can hear him audibly grunt as he tamps them down as hard as he possibly can. once the grounds are little more than a coffee-scented hockey puck, he lifts and twists the handle into the machine. he presses the button, and the machine whirs. he quickly grabs and sips from the small paper cup he's kept by the register filled with water. as he lowers it, he realizes he didn't place any glasses to catch the espresso in. he looks around for shot glasses, panic escalating as the seconds pass and the machine is about to filter water through the grounds. desperate, he drains the rest of the water in his cup, and shoves it under the portafilter just in time to receive the weak streams of espresso.

that challenge now taken care of, he reaches for a jug of milk and a metal pitcher to steam it. he pours confidently. he raises it to the steam wand and pulls down the trigger before raising his head back up to make fresh eye contact.

“so, i haven’t seen ya around before. what’re you doing here?” he pauses, again realizing the decidedly-unflirtatious phrasing. “i-i mean, uh, you new in town? y’know, if you need a tour guide, there’s no one better than me. i know all the hot spots around here! the best restaurants, the best bars, the best fountains in the park that always have the most quarters in ‘em-“

he’s not paying attention to the milk. as the steam wand works, it expands. and expands. and expands. just as he’s about to offer a tour at a special reduced price of only thirty-five dollars, the scalding dairy overflows, pouring over the fingers holding the metal pitcher.

“SON OF A-“

he pulls the pitcher away from the steam wand without turning it off, causing the steam the jettison hot milk all over the workstation. the espresso machine is still struggling to pour water through the excessively-tamped grounds- it’s beginning to smoke now. the metal pitcher clangs to the floor and the rest of the milk spills over his shoes.

he looks up.

“heh. good thing you already tipped me, huh?”

#grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls #this is so silly i should not have spent so much time on this #sinposts

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strawberryblondebutch · 11 days ago

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ideal 4 pwhl playoff teams?

This is just asking me to rank the teams I like the most lol

Do I think the Charge are a "good team"? Do I think they "have what it takes to make it deep in the playoffs"? Uh... no. But they're my bastards and I want them to make it.

I hate that I like a Boston sports team, but I have found myself charmed by several of their players. Plus, the more American teams that make it, the likelier it is that Canada can't win either the Stanley OR the Walter Cup.

Speaking of American teams, I'd like Minnesota to make the playoffs and not win. For personal reasons involving seeing walk-in fits.

Rounding it out, I think this is a lost cause considering their... everything, but I have a soft spot for Toronto. They have so many ex-Badgers, including my terrible daughter Jesse Compher. If they make it, they need to go all the way, only because I don't want her to cry again.

As a Philadelphia native, I start spitting blood if good things happen to a New York team, and I just don't vibe with Montreal. I don't like LS7 for petty personal reasons, and none of my special little guys are on that team to make up for it.

#answered #pwhl

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movetonet · 11 days ago

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title: come around like the sun

pairing: aleksander barkov/matthew tkachuck

word count: 18,258

tags: matthew tkachuck is not a hockey player, falling in love, long distance relationship, explicit sexual content

summary

Sasha felt himself shutting down almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The raw desperation that had been propelling him forward had evaporated, leaving nothing but an exhaustion that settled deep into his bones. He lost the Stanley Cup Finals, and he just fucked a puck bunny about it. What a fucking night.

baby's first sashew!!! :3 this was meant to be a little break from a longer sidgeno fic that i was struggling with but uh. as you can see it got out of hand. i hope you enjoy and thanks for sharing/reading/commenting/kudos-ing!

#sashew #hockey rpf #*writing #i'm like super nervous about htis one for some reason lol so if you enjoyed it do leave a comment! even just a heart! i appreciate it 🩷

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sassy-tuukka-time-tantrum-40 · 29 days ago

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There's nothing I want more than for Don Sweeney to come forward, take accountability for the state of the Bruins, then immediately step down. But we all know he won't, he made that perfectly clear when he decided to scapegoat Jim Montgomery back in November.

This past summer was just misstep after misstep. From trading Ullmark (which I have a hunch Sweeney only did to strong-arm Swayman into signing and if I'm right, oh YIKES) Then there was the whole drama behind signing Swayman the press release where they said they made an offer only for Sway and his agent to turn around and say "Uh...No he never gave us that offer." And then not signing Sway until AFTER the preseason and almost literally at the very last second two days before the season started.

Then there was him trading a coach that lead the team to smashing the league's regular season win record (sure Monty made some missteps in the playoffs but whatever) and had just 41 regulation losses in 184 games. And that was AFTER firing another successful head coach in Bruce Cassidy (who would go on to coach a team to a Stanley Cup win THAT VERY SEASON!)

There are a lot more reasons I could go into but it's 4:30 in the morning and it's time for me to go to bed. All I know is they need to part ways with him ASAP.

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tyrannastar · 4 months ago

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Shattered Memories

Gravity Falls fanfic, sfw

OC x Canon

Characters: Stanley Pines, Stanford Pines, Evellia Castillo (my OC)

Trigger warnings: Hurt/Comfort, blood, injury, mental distress, swearing

Word count: 2.7k, story under gif

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. The birds chirped in the distance; Evellia stirred awake, and her eyes fluttered open. She stretched, looking over to see Ford sleeping peacefully. His chest rising and lowering, she smiled softly. She turned to face him, running her fingers through his hair. He groaned, taking in a deep breath, his eyes slowly opening.

“Morning, Bookworm.” She said, making Ford snicker.

“Morning, my love.” He turned toward the nightstand, grabbed his glasses, and sat up.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” She spoke. He thought for a second and shook his head.

“I don’t think so.” He gave her a teasing look; she opened her mouth in a fake, shocked look and nudged him. He laughed and leaned over, kissing her. She melted like it was the first kiss again, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. He giggled during the kiss; he was basically lying on top of her. He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, catching his breath.

She cupped his face, tracing circles on his cheek with her thumb. He raised his eyebrow.

“Uh oh.” He spoke, causing her to pull her hand back, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

He wasn’t convinced.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I am not!” She laughed. “I happen to be an excellent liar. I’ve just never lied to you.”

He gave her a doubtful look. She sighed.

“I just had a really strange dream about you.”

“About me?”

She nodded, “Yeah, but getting worked up about it is ridiculous. Considering I don’t remember all of it.”

Ford twirled her hair. “Let’s hear it.”

Evellia sighed, rubbing her eyes with her two fingers, trying to remember the details. “There was this bright blue light and yelling; you were there and the next moment.” She made an exploding gesture with her free hand and clicked her tongue. “Gone.” She heard him laugh, causing her ears to ring.

“That is ridiculous.” He said.

She snickered, rubbing her face.

“Yeah, I figured you say that. I know you wouldn’t just disappear.”

“But I did disappear, though.”

She laughed.

“Very funny, smartass.” She pulled her hands back, giving him an annoyed smirk. “You’re such a jerk. Come on, get off so we can-”

“I fell through, remember?”

Her smile dropped, and she scanned his face. She was looking for his teasing smile, any sign that he was joking. But Ford’s lips curved into a small, sad smile. There was a weight behind it, a heaviness in his eyes. The ringing continued.

“Okay. It’s not funny anymore, Stanford.” The panic raised in her voice. She lifted her arms to push him off her, but she couldn’t move. She tried again; it was like she was paralyzed.

“I’m not here anymore, Evellia.” His voice almost seemed to warp and be distorted, as if it were coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The room seemed colder, and the sun's golden hue slowly changed to blue. The ringing grew louder.

That’s when she realized that it wasn’t ringing.

It was whirring.

She felt her eyes tear up as Ford reached over and gently held her face in his hands—no warmth behind it. His eyes were dead.

“You need to wake up.”

The sound of the whirring was grinding against her eardrums and pounding against her skull like a hammer to a nail.

Then

She woke up.

She shot up from her bed, her heart beating against her ribcage as if trying to escape. She glanced at the window. It was still nighttime; the sound stopped, and she had clenched the sheets on the empty side of the bed.

Ford’s side.

He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there for days.

She loosened her grip and sighed. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cold wood floor grounding her and rubbing her face with both hands. She thought maybe talking to Stan and telling him everything that had been plaguing her.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to go down to the basement.

She didn’t want to see that machine again.

She didn’t want to see him.

With that thought, she pushed herself up and shuffled into the bathroom. The creaky floorboards groaned beneath her bare feet, a sound she’d once found charming. Now it was a reminder of how old and tired the house felt—just like everything else in this damn town.

She flipped on the light. She blinked against the sudden brightness, wincing at her reflection.

She almost didn’t recognize herself.

She splashed cold water onto her skin, rubbing at it until her cheeks were raw, hoping the chill would wake her from the numbness seeping into her bones. The icy shock helped, but only for a moment.

She stared at herself, cataloging every flaw, every inch of exhaustion written across her features. She looked like hell. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. Dark circles hung beneath them, and her dark curls were knotted, hanging limply around her face. She ran a hand through it, trying to tame it, but her fingers got caught in the tangles. She looked so tired, so worn out—like she had aged years in just days.

She exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the sink.

Evellia shifted, her eyes catching the faint glint of the old copper pendant lying against her chest. It was rusted now, but its copper gleam had once been so vibrant. Her fingers traced its familiar edges, the minor nicks and dents she knew by heart. She let out a small, nostalgic laugh. Remembering how Ford had looked at her the day they gave it to her. So proud, even though it had been stolen with Stan’s help.

Her smile grew, remembering the summers in New Jersey, how Ford would get lost in his sketches while Stan tried to drag them both into whatever scheme he had concocted for the day. Those were simpler days. She could almost hear their laughter again, the teasing remarks from Stan, the earnest excitement in Ford’s eyes. She let herself fall into the warmth of those memories—it was like an embrace.

But just as quickly, the memories shifted, warped. Her laughter died in her throat. She saw Ford again—not the boy from the beach, but the man from that terrible day. The one whose eyes were filled with desperation, whose voice broke as he tried to stop everything from falling apart. The flash of the portal, the sound of it roaring to life. Her hand gripped the pendant tighter, her knuckles turning white, and she winced, her breath catching in her lungs. Her heart was pounding louder. Ford's voice echoed in her head like she was there again—his yells, desperation, pleas for help, and then...

Silence.

The crash echoed through the house like a gunshot, but it was almost distant to her as if it didn’t belong to her reality.

She stood there, frozen, watching the spiderweb cracks snake across the mirror, her chest heaving. A sharp, stinging sensation shot up her arm. Evellia pulled her hand back and looked down to see her knuckles were bleeding; the skin was cut open in jagged lines, blood pooling.

She hadn’t meant to do it, or at least she thinks she didn’t. Maybe a part of her had meant to.

Blood dripped from her hand, staining the shards of glass on the floor. She barely felt the pain. All she saw was the broken reflection of herself. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor, blindly reaching for the shards with trembling hands, trying to clean them up, even as the jagged edges sliced her palms and fingers. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. It was just a stupid mirror. Her hands were already bleeding—she just needed to clean it up. She had to fix it.

“Evie?!” Stan’s voice boomed from the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps. He burst into the bathroom, holding a bat. “What the hell happened? I heard a cr-“

“I punched the mirror.” Evellia interrupted, her voice detached. She didn’t even look at him. “I was looking in the mirror, and next thing I know, I just-.” She slowly recreated the movement of her punch. She laughed dryly, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “I punched it. Just like that. Can you believe it? I’m not sure why I’m surprised.”

Stan stared at her, his eyes scanning her face, then drifting down to her hand. “Jesus Christ, Evie, your hand.” He knelt, concern etched into his face. “You’re bleeding bad.”

She waved him off, shaking her head. “Yeah… I guess I am. It’s not that bad, however. It’s not the worst injury I’ve gotten. Do you remember when we were all roughhousing, and my arm broke? Now that hurt.” She laughed, the sound hollow and tinged with hysteria. “Stanford felt so bad. He wouldn’t stop apologizing. And you!” She dramatically pointed at Stan, smiling, but it was so wrong. “You wrote swear words all over my cast. You remember?”

Stan blinked at her, confused but trying to follow. “Yeah, I remember. Got you in trouble with your folks, right?”

“Sure did,” she laughed again, shaking her head. “But it was funny, right? Stanford was so mad, especially since he signed it, and it looked like he wrote the swears, but I thought it was hilarious.”

Stan nodded and frowned, his eyes flicking between her bleeding hand and her face. “Evie—”

“Remember when we broke the window?” she interrupted, her voice picking up speed. She was trying to escape the present, her mind jumping from one memory to another.

“The what?”

“The window. We were playing inside, and we broke it.”

Stan blinked. He had almost forgotten about that. He couldn’t even remember who broke it.

“I blamed you for it, right?” He said; she nodded almost too quickly.

“Stanford wouldn’t let you either!” Another hollow laugh came out of her. “Boy, I thought we were going to die that day. Your dad was so angry. He yelled at us for hours.” She dragged out the word. “And your mom—God, she was more worried about the cuts on our knees than the window.” The tears flowed down her face, and she wiped it with a free hand. Smearing blood on her cheek. Stan carefully reaching for her hand, trying to stop her from picking up more glass.

“Evie, you’re bleeding all over the place, please. Stop.”

She looked him dead in the eyes. Her smile faltered. Her voice was quieter, more vulnerable. “I wanted to sail with you two on that stupid boat,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “And I was so hurt when you said I couldn’t.”

Stan’s brow furrowed. “You did?” he asked, his voice soft with surprise. “But you always said that you didn’t care. You called it a death trap.”

“I happen to be an excellent liar.” She looked back at her hands.

There was a long pause. Then Evellia’s voice trembled as she continued, “I was worried about him. He… he was losing his mind. You saw how awful he looked.”

He nodded, recounting his brother’s ‘welcome party.’

“Did you know when I came home one day, he ran out of the house and begged me to tell him if I was real? I didn’t know what to say or do. I felt so helpless. All I did was hold him. And I saw your car, and I thought—” her voice broke, pointing at nothing “—Hey, there’s Stan; if anyone could help Ford, it’d be him.”

Her body trembled as she reached for the pendant again. Yanking it off her neck, the chain snapping, staring at it.

“But he’s gone.”

She looked up at him, full of tears and a smile. “It’s all gone. Everything is gone, and I hate it.”

Stan’s face paled. “Evie…” he began.

She froze momentarily at the sound of her name before something in her snapped. Her hands tightened into fists, and without warning, she slammed her fist into the shards on the ground, her voice rising into a pained scream. “I hate it! I hate this place! I hate this town! I hate the house! Everything! I hate you! I hate Ford!” Her voice broke into sobs as she pounded the floor, the sharp glass cutting deeper into her hands. She pounded her fists into the ground again and again, tears streaming down her face.

“I want it back! I want everything back the way it was!"

Her sobs were loud, raw, echoing in the small bathroom.

Stan grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. She fought back, pounding into his chest with her hands, fighting him off, but he held her tight, refusing to let go. Eventually, she lost her energy, her body going limp as she collapsed into his chest, her sobs quieting until they were nothing more than broken, exhausted gasps. Stan held her, rocking her gently as she wept, not saying a word.

Evellia stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open, and she woke up to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the soft beeping of machines. The bright lights shining in her eyes, she raised her arms to block it out, noticing her hands. They were bandaged up; she blinked in confusion, sitting up in the hospital bed. Then it came back to her: the nightmare, the mirror and—

Knock Knock

A soft knock came from the door, and she turned her head to see Stan standing in the doorway, holding a small bouquet. Orange sneezeweeds. He smiled awkwardly.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.”

He pointed to the spot on the bed. “Is that spot taken?”

Evellia managed a weak giggle. “Nope, all yours.”

Stan sat down, setting the flowers on the small table. She raised an eyebrow.

“How did you know I liked those?”

“Oh, I read it in, uh, Sixer’s book.”

She snickered; she was not surprised Ford wrote that down.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, concern evident in his eyes.

“Physically? Sore, tired.” She looked at her hands again.

“And mentally?”

She let out a sigh. “A little embarrassed.”

She moved closer, putting her head on his shoulder, and he laid his head on hers.

“I’m sorry.” She said

“For what?”

“Well, for one, probably scaring the shit out of you.”

He laughed.

“And for saying I hated you and Ford.” She sniffled. “I was just so…so.”

“Hurt and angry?” He finished her sentence, and she nodded. “I didn’t take it personally. I know you didn’t mean it. And even if you did, I’m sure Sixer’s more hateable than me.”

She laughed, a genuine laugh this time, and Stan’s smile grew wider.

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing.

“Listen, Evellia.”

She made a face.

“Ew, Don’t call me that; it’s weird when it's you.”

“Yeah, that didn’t sound right to me either.”

He pulled back and placed his hands on her shoulders. He spoke softly, his tone serious.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” She looked up at him. “I know I’m staying to try to figure out how to fix that stupid machine. But you don’t. I know you miss him, and it kills me to see you hurting. So, if you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you, and I’m sure Stanford wouldn’t either.”

Evellia considered it, her heart aching. The weight of his offer was hanging in the air. She could leave. She could walk away and try to start over somewhere else, away from Gravity Falls. But then... she’d be walking away from Stan, too. The thought of losing him too—of being completely alone—was too much to bear.

"I’m not going anywhere," she said softly, shaking her head. She smiled faintly, "Besides, who will keep you out of trouble if I’m gone?"

He scoffed. “Okay, sure, I remember you got us into more trouble than I did.”

“I don’t recall. I was the perfect angel.”

“Yeah, and in who’s heaven?”

She nudged him, Stan chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, Knucklehead.”

“I missed you too, Shorty,” She said; he rolled his eyes and laughed, ruffling her hair.

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morticiankisser · 4 months ago

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tlc

pairing: stanley pines x kayla

warnings: mentions of period/menstruation in case anyone is uncomfortable with that kind of thing!

description: literally wrote this out of a need for comfort since i woke up and everything was out of wack for me this morning. this is completely self indulgent i just wanted stan to take care of me while i was going through it. ✌️

divider credit: @/sweetmelodygraphics

( ok to rb! )

“Geez what happened to you? You look like you got hit by a truck.”

The familiar rough, gravely timber of Stan’s voice catches her attention as she languidly blinks turning her head towards the direction of her boss turned romantic partner hands still clutching the cup of coffee Wendy had been kind enough to bring her. She stares at him for a long moment before shifting her position from behind the cashier counter feeling her joints shift and pop in the process. How long had she been just staring off looking miserable? She honestly wasn’t sure she hadn’t been herself since she had woken up to her period staring. She glances back down at her coffee and then back up at him concern clear on his face fingers rubbing at her eyes from behind her glasses. At least the coffee was helping.

“Mm. I certainly feel like it.”

“So you gunna tell me what’s wrong or do I need to drag it outta ya?”

She smiles a little at that and pauses wondering how to even broach the subject with him. Stan didn’t exactly seem the type of guy to react normally to the news of menstruation and while she was used to downplaying and softening the blow for people who didn’t deal with this every month she was honestly in too much pain to care at this point to sugar coat it.

It certainly didn’t help that every single time this happened it made her scoliosis and cerebral palsy ten times worse combined with the usual period pains and symptoms. One of the joys of being born with chronic pain conditions.

“I’m on my period.”

She could see the way Stan tensed his body language still holding concern but also having that usual sense of uncomfortable weirdness whenever she was candid about it around men. She almost regretted being so blunt. Almost.

She watches as Stan shifts uncomfortably on his feet hands going up to rub at his neck, something she’s picked up that he does when he’s nervous, and she can’t blame him she did just dump that information on him without warning and he’s clearly having trouble knowing how to respond to the situation.

She takes this time to stretch hoping to at least relive her stiff and sore body just a little bit even though she knew it wasn’t a permanent solution. Her body was always like this that’s just how it was. It was just worse in this particular circumstance.

“Oh. Uh can I do anything to help?”

He’s still fidgeting, very much still uncomfortable by the situation, but he’s looking her in the eye which is good and the earnest sound of his voice causes her to smile.

“That’s sweet of you to offer, Stan, but I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t look okay you look like you’re about to keel over any second. C’mon. You’re takin’ the rest of the day off.”

His hand reaches for hers, still clasping the paper cup of coffee, but leaves it and allows him to lead her from behind the counter and towards the main part of the Shack.

She smiles enjoying the warmth his hand provided around her much smaller one her voice taking on an amused quality as she responds.

“Oh? Is this a benefit of being your girlfriend? That’s a bit unfair playing favorites with your employees don’t you think, Mr. Mystery?”

Stan makes a non committal bah in response rolling his eyes.

“Nah you’re just not making any money standing around like that shuffling around like some zombie.”

Even so he doesn’t let go of her hand and makes a big show to have Wendy cover her shift much to her displeasure so she knows it’s probably just half true.

He practically shuffles her into his bed after insisting she get into something more comfortable and tucking her in like a baby which causes her to laugh.

Stan gives her a look quirking his brow.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just sweet that you care.”

He gives her a warm, gentle smile and presses a kiss to the crown of her head.

“‘Course I do, sweetheart. Always do.”

He surprises her again when he spends who knows how long making sure she has whatever she needs. Water, pain medication, chocolate. He even offered to massage her at one point which almost made her burst into tears it was so sweet.

It has been quite a while of him being at her beck and call before she realized he had probably missed plenty of tourists during that time. He notices her staring at him and he gives her a funny look.

“Did you really think I’d leave ya when you were feeling so miserable?”

She smiles shrugging.

“Dunno. It’s a huge possibility. You are always saying: ‘Time is money. The more time you waste is less time spent makin’ me money!’.”

Stan responds to this by gently flicking her forehead.

“Don’t be stupid. You know you’re different.”

“So you are playing favorites! I knew it!”

He laughs at that and settles in beside her pulling her close smiling when he feels her settle into his side comfortable cuddled up close.

“Okay, yeah, maybe I am.”

#big sorry if this shows up in canon tags fellow stan likers this is something i wrote for me 🙏!#ok to rb #kayla.writing #period mention #💵 stanley #also lmao 99% sure while i was writing this my period actually came #this is shorter than I wanted it to be but hopefully this gets the point across #i had a whole rough draft in my head about a entire massage scene but i honestly didn’t feel like writing that so you guys get this #kayla.txt

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misshoneyimhome · 1 year ago

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The One Without the Teeth I Erik Johnson

Summary; Erik, the newest addition to the Buffalo Sabres, has just joined the team, and there's a clear directive for everyone to give the hockey star the warmest welcome possible. So, when he accidentally interrupted your work, you seized the opportunity to make him feel right at home.

Tags & Warnings; Erik x reader; Kinktober; oral sex (f & m receiving/giving); semi-public (training room); lack-of-teeth-kink?

Author's Notes: Starting off Kinktober 2023 with a bit of a classic hockey theme - the absence of front teeth. This is a new direction for me, and I'm excited to explore it with some fresh faces on the ice. I hope you find it enjoyable!

Word Count; 2.1K

➼｡ﾟ

Erik Johnson, quite the big shot in the hockey world, had just landed himself a spot on the Buffalo Sabres hockey team. However, this 35-year-old was no ordinary newcomer; he'd had the honour of hoisting the Stanley Cup high above his head, thanks to his significant contributions during his tenure with the Avalanche. So, it came as no surprise when Kevyn Adams, the team's general manager, called on everyone to give him a warm welcome.

As for you, well, you were kind of like a shadow in the world of the team's staff. Your work certainly had an impact, but you were more like an assistant to an assistant on the media team. Most folks might recognise your ideas and creative output, but your name? Not so much. Not that you minded too terribly; you were content working under the radar and letting your work do the talking for your talents.

Then one evening, as the team's training camps were kicking off and the pre-season was looming, you found yourself alone in one of the team's training rooms. The cleaning crew had just wrapped up, and you had a simple goal in mind – snapping a few photos to give the fans a glimpse of what the players did when they weren't out on the ice, you know, besides the usual skating, weightlifting, and cardio routines.

As you moved around the room, searching for the perfect angles to capture the essence of the equipment, you couldn't help but get lost in the moment. Squatting down to get just the right perspective, you held your phone steady, ready to hit the virtual capture button.

But just as you were about to take the shot, a deep voice abruptly shattered your concentration, making you lose your balance slightly.

"I thought you were supposed to take photos of people actually using the equipment," the voice remarked, its tone a blend of curiosity and amusement.

You tumbled backward, nearly tripping over your own feet in surprise.

”Shit, sorry,” the man then spoke as he came to kneel and offer you a helping hand.

Still somewhat flustered, you managed to regain your composure and looked up, your face coming rather close with Erik Johnson. He had an amused grin on his face, clearly enjoying your startled reaction.

"Uh, hey there," you spoke with a hint of embarrassment colouring your tone. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Erik chuckled, a warm sound that put you at ease. "I thought I'd give you a hand with your behind-the-scenes project," he explained. "Seems like you could use a model, and I could use a bit of a workout."

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Well, in that case, let's get some shots of you in action," you said, your initial nervousness fading as excitement took over. Slowly, the two of you stood up, and even in your proudest pair of heels, Erik Johnson still towered over you.

With a confident grin on his face, Erik positioned himself on the bench press, the weight stacked on the bar more substantial than you could even count. He began to lift, and you couldn't help but watch in awe as his muscles flexed and sculpted his body into chiselled curves with each repetition.

The room was filled with the rhythmic clinking of weights, and the soft hum of admiration from your camera as it captured the remarkable scene before you. The way Erik's determination shone through his movements was nothing short of captivating.

"Looking good, Erik!" you called out, your voice laced with genuine admiration.

He shot you a grin in response, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow. "Thanks. This is a piece of cake," he replied with a wink, clearly relishing the challenge.

Following the intense bench press session, Erik sat up, his gaze fixed directly on you. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and, with a gentle expression, asked, "How come I haven't seen you around much?"

You shifted on your feet and offered a soft reply, "I mostly work behind the scenes, you know, handling the media stuff. Sometimes I do a bit of editing and post things on social media," you explained, a faint smile gracing your lips.

Erik returned your smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest in getting to know you better. Being the new guy on the team, he was still in the process of familiarising himself with everyone, especially the staff members who seemed to come and go constantly, assisting the players around the clock.

"Well, I'm glad I ran into you then," he said with a gentle smirk. "You seem nice."

The room seemed to hold a brief, soft moment of intimacy as your eyes locked onto each other. Erik's face glistened with post-training sweat, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

Breaking the silence, he spoke with a husky tone, "I hope the photos don't need too much editing."

You shook your head, maintaining eye contact with him, your heart beating a little faster. "Not at all," you assured him with a sweet smile. "You look quite handsome, actually."

Erik's smirk widened at your compliment. "Well, having someone I'd like to impress does enhance my best features." His playful and flirtatious response earned a small giggle from you, and a gentle blush adorned your cheeks. You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your gaze momentarily dropping before lifting it to meet his once more.

As Erik continued to gaze at you, you found yourself unconsciously biting your lip, a sign of your growing attraction to this handsome man standing before you.

"Well, I'm sure I can use you for more photos another time then," you finally said softly, your voice trembling slightly, your heart quickening its pace.

"I'd love to help out," Erik responded quickly, his eyes growing darker, and his tongue sweeping across his lips in a sensuous manner.

You couldn't help but be captivated by his lips, but then something else caught your attention. It was subtle, but you noticed that Erik was missing his front teeth, a common sight among hockey players, but something that hadn't been visible until now.

Erik must have noticed your gaze on his mouth because he briefly pressed his lips together before cheekily remarking, "Maybe just nothing where I need to smile too much," accompanied by a playful smirk.

But instead of responding with disgust, you surprised him with a flirtatious twist. "Actually," you replied, your voice almost a whisper, "I like your smile."

"Really?" Erik's voice held a note of genuine curiosity as he leaned in a bit closer, clearly intrigued by your confession.

You nodded; your cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "I've always had a thing for hockey players missing a tooth or two," you timidly admitted, finding yourself unintentionally drawn a little closer to where Erik was still seated. "I've just never..." you paused for a brief moment, biting your lower lip once more before continuing, "been close to one."

Your confession seemed to ignite a spark in Erik, and he shifted in his seat, his eyes gleaming with newfound intensity. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his voice a husky whisper as he said, "Well, then why not come a little closer and try it out?"

The invitation hung in the air, thick with anticipation, and it was a proposition you found impossible to resist. With a flutter of excitement in your chest, you took a step closer to Erik, your heart racing as you ventured into uncharted territory.

His hands came to gently snake around your body, as you came to stand between his legs, your chest in height with his face.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured into your body. “Come, sit down.” His voice was low and gentle, yet you sensed the dominating undertones, which caused your heat between your legs to lightly twitch. And so, you did what he asked of you. Switching positions, you came to sit on the bench, while rose from his seat and came to sit in front of you on his knees. Though, the position was a little awkward a first, the awkwardness quickly faded, as he hovered you, and collided his lips onto yours.

The kiss was sweet and gentle at first, but the new team player was determined to show off his skills, as your confessions about your turn on seemed to have erupted a spark in him. His tongue was quick to brush against your lips, earning you to part them, and slowly it entered your mouth, to move around yours. Slowly it got more intense, and as he used his large body to make you lie on your back, you could feel how your core was starting to pool.

His mere touch had you all turned on, and as soon as he broke the kiss, you felt his warmth missing from your body and lips.

“Let me show you what I can do with this mouth,” he told you, as he carefully placed himself between your legs, gently spreading them, causing your skirt to move up slightly. Erik licked his lips, as his eyes caught onto your black lacy thong, which only seemed to be in the way.

With his fingers smoothly running up your bare thighs, he used two fingers to move aside the fabric that stood between him and your sweet cunt. Small moans started to escape your lips, as you felt his hot breath coming closer between your legs, his scruff brushing your inner thighs, and your lips parted in a silent moan as you felt the breadth of his tongue’s initial stroke. A shiver went through your body once again, though this time it was in pure pleasure as Erik began to work his tongue between your folds and his lips connecting as well, coming on to suck on your clit.

A smirk came across the man’s face, as your moans started to become louder and faster, which only seemed to encourage him further. You were silently thanking yourself for staying late today, to finish up your work, as a certain rush was flowing through your veins, with every skilful move Erik seem to have. The missing teeth in his mouth seemed to provide him better access to move his tongue, and what a blessing you though it was. You tried to lift yourself up a little to catch his eyes, which were solely intensely starring up at you, wanting to push you to what you craved the most. And with a few more licks, your body shuddered, and your toes curled, as you felt your orgasm rush over you, and your juices liquidated onto Erik’s mouth.

His beard shimmered in the lights of the training room, as he pulled back his head from your heat. A satisfied smirk adorned his face, as he came to stand. “I like this kind of work out,” he playfully spoke, standing in front of the bench.

Feeling confidence by the rush, provided by the tall forwarder, you came to stand in front of him as well; smoothly correcting your skirt. While matching his solid smirk and with no words needed to be spoken, you confidently moved to kneel in front of him, as his hard cock was nowhere near concealed in his joggings.

His hand found your hair, gently stroking through it. Hooking your fingers around the hem, you gently pushed them down to pool around his angles. Licking your lips, and gazing up at him to catch his eyes, you stroke your palm softly over his member through his boxers, earning small breaths escaping his mouth.

“No teasing,” were light words, merely a whisper, coming from the man towering you. And by his command, you pulled his boxers down to join the joggers, freeing his hard length. With one hand you gave it a few light strokes, causing a few more moans from Erik, before you welcomed in into your warm mouth. “Oh yes,” he moaned, as you took his cock further in and down, while breathing through your nose, and using you mouth to flex and suck. Saliva filled your mouth around Erik’s cock, as you continued to bop your head, and his grip in your hair began to tighten as he was getting closer to a release.

You could feel how his hips came to gently thrust against your own movements, so you increased your speed and little, and with a loud groan, and heavy breaths, Erik spilled his liquid into your mouth.

Calming his breath, Erik looked down at you, as you cleaned him up, swallowing every bit of his cum, finishing with a sweet smile.

“Welcome to the team.”

#erik johnson imagine #erik johnson #x reader #nhl hockey imagine #buffalo sabres #buffalo sabres imagine #kinktober 2023

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