#tyson jost smut

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — JT COMPHER x reader (main); TYSON JOST x reader (side); COMPHER x JOST (brief) wc — 14k synopsis — what's a reunion without some groveling?

note — this takes place a few of years after part one, go out with a bang (post-college/college au — tyson and kate are now out-going seniors!) sorry not sorry for the length of this behemoth, i got carried away per usual <3 there are more parts to come, and i would absolutely love to hear any theories/predictions if yall have any!

specific content warnings listed below the cut.

cw — cameos on cameos on cameos, we're at a party so drinking and mention of dr*gs + yacking (no description), drinking games, sorority terms/processes, me getting too invested in multiple subplots and potential background ships, soft!service!dom!JT makes my peabrain go brrrrr, everybodies a bit masochistic because i, registered heathen, am masochistic, reader’s wearing a short skirt for plot reasons, slight compher x josty, oral (reader receiving 2x), unprotected piv (i know, i know, i know i need help), me letting my brat self take the kink reins, praise baby praise, angst AND IM NOT SORRY, + happy fluffy bits... possible cliffhanger??? 

Staring up at the Alpha Chi house is like stepping back in time. 

Like trying on an old pair of shoes you found while deep-cleaning your closet only to find their once-perfect fit gone. Growth is funny that way; you never realize just how far you’ve come until it pinches you.

You’ve outgrown this place, though not from a lack of love or any great tragedy. It occupies a different place in your mind, just as you’re a different person than you were three years ago. 

Your younger self would balk at this development, wouldn’t believe it’d one day feel too small. You can’t fault her for that near-sightedness. In college, your whole world existed on one street. You had everything you needed then between two stop signs.

But your world is bigger now, and your needs are different too. 

Still, it feels good to try on your past for the night. Even if it's a tad ill-fitting. 

The drive between your new life and your old one hadn’t been too bad, but that’s probably because you didn’t do much of said driving. JT got the engine going before you could even make a grab for the keys and, despite spending the last year in the literal trenches of clinical rotations and shelf exams, refused to switch at the halfway mark. Yet, your boyfriend is practically vibrating with excitement as you cross the all-too-familiar threshold hand-in-hand. 

“This is so weird,” JT remarks, his lips low to your ear. His musky cologne, warm and woody, does its best to soothe your nerves.

As you survey the crowd, you nod. 

He didn’t need to elaborate further for you to understand because you were already thinking the very same thing. Watching students, the vast majority as unfamiliar to you as you are to them, milling around your old haunt stirs an odd, uncanny feeling akin to a surreal dream. You’re well-acquainted with the setting, almost to an uncomfortable degree, and you don’t think you’re all that different, but everything still feels foreign.

All the right pieces are there, and you’re sure you’ve put them in their proper places, but the image won’t behave.

You quickly realize the only thing that’s misplaced is you. Grief hangs from your back like a wet blanket. 

“Look what the cat dragged in, boys!”

A burst of riotous laughter shakes much of the gloom from your system.

Gabe Landeskog barrels into your boyfriend like an overgrown puppy. Gray-blue eyes twinkling under the rainbow of LEDs, he embraces you both in a warm hug, not minding that the spontaneous act of affection has just cost him an entire Solo cup.

“Compher and the missus,” the blonde addresses you both with a wide grin and a big palm to a cheek each; he gives JT’s a quick pat but merely cups yours. 

His breath still smells of spearmint and something spicy, an imposing combination your eighteen-year-old self could never find comforting. Just another thing that's different now. If you could package the scent for all the little moments of nostalgia, you would. 

“I was starting to think we’d have to drag you from the city kicking and screaming, but alas! You've left the cozy, vanilla bubble of your own volition for a weekend of debauchery with your favorite degenerates.”

JT’s affectionate eye-roll is big and dramatic even in your periphery. The levity brings a smile to your face. It grows wider and wider, enduring until your cheeks burn. If anyone deserves some light-heartedness, it's your sleep-deprived, perpetually-stressed boyfriend.

“A night, Landy. We’ve got to be back by tomorrow night to relieve the dog sitter,” your boyfriend amends with a pat to Gabe’s flushed cheek, returning the favor. 

The older man groans like the overgrown boy he is and will always be. “Look at you, Mr. Responsible. All domestic and shit. With a fur-baby and everything. I bet it’s as well-trained as your firstborn.”

Your eyes follow the line drawn by Gabe’s strong chin past the entryway through to the room used for table-top drinking games.

Half-kneeling on the rickety table you helped customize a few years back is Tyson Jost, head tilted to the sky as he guzzles down the center cup. More beer spills down his chest than into his mouth, effectively turning his white tee sheer. The crowd is comprised mostly of giddy sorority girls who don't mind a bit. 

Free booze and a free show—lucky them!

Once the plastic cup is empty, he crushes it in his palm before sinking the balled plastic into the basketball hoop on the adjacent wall. The converted dining room swells with hoots and hollers so quickly you would’ve thought Tyson emerged from some mythic quagmire, blood-soaked and victorious. But there are no winners in Rage Cage; everybody loses.

Tyson’s loopy grin falters when he registers you and JT on either side of Gabe.

You would like to say nothing’s changed between the three of you over the past couple of years. That you’re just as close as you’d been in college, that distance hadn’t done as much damage as it has.

You'd be lying if you did. 

You tried your best to keep him in the loop; you really did, but that didn’t end up mattering much.

JT hardly had time to socialize with you most of the time, and you’ve practically lived together since graduation. He, like you, tried, but at some point, his bandwidth could no longer accommodate Tyson’s sporadic texts and calls. Many of which came in the dead of night, when your boyfriend’s head was either buried in a textbook or in the pillow beside yours.

Whenever you could, you invited the forward to spend the weekend in the city with the two of you. You even went so far as to offer to put him up in a hotel between your and JT’s respective apartments, knowing your adult salary could stretch further than the Atomic tips he was splitting with Tyler. He always had something conflicting going on, and it didn't feel like your place to question the authenticity of his reasons, so you just kept extending the invitation, hoping things would align eventually.

After finally taking the leap and signing a lease together, you decorated the guest room with Tyson in mind. He’s yet to see it, still.

Your little Kate, on the other hand, needs a frequent flyer program.

A small part of you felt this shift was inevitable once JT went from best friend-slash-unrequited crush to full-blown, live-in boyfriend. Despite Tyson’s insistence on you finally hooking up and “putting everyone out of their misery,” his smile didn’t meet his eyes when JT broke the news that it wasn’t a one-night thing.

Maybe his “little crush” hadn’t been so little after all. 

If that’s the case, you can't blame him for avoiding your slice of grown-up love like the plague. It just would've been nice if he hadn't left you in the dark, wondering where and how you fucked up enough to get iced out.

Tyson responded to every third or so text of yours, so you mostly kept up with him and his life through Kate, who briefly dated him between ill-fated Gunnar stints, and social media. You weren’t sure how often he spoke to JT; after several attempts that ended with your boyfriend clammed up and irritated, you stopped asking.

Judging by how tense he is beside you right now, you have a pretty good guess.

“Yikes,” Gabe drawls. “Trouble in paradise?”

You remain carefully quiet, allowing your boyfriend to decide what, if anything, to share. This—whatever it is —feels like it's more so between them two than Tyson and yourself.

JT clears his throat so hard it cuts through the music blaring through the packed house—some remix you don’t remember learning the words to. “Trouble? Nah, Josty’d have to give us the time of day for that.” 

Gabe laughs, but you know JT isn’t trying to be funny. You can taste the undercurrent of bitter resentment. It’s impossible not to without an artificial buzz.

There’s no time to dwell because a flurry of red hair darts through the crowd dispersing out of the dining room and straight into your arms. A fresh, but faintly-candied scent tickles your nose as the cool metal of a bracelet digs into your neck. 

Kate.

“Fuckin finally!” The almost-grad squeals directly into your ear.

Definitely drunk. Or high—or both. 

“Don’t look at me,” you say, beaming when she pulls back. “I wasn’t driving.”

Kate swats JT’s chest with her open palm. “And this is why we don’t let you drive anywhere, Grandpa.”

The playful jab makes your smile deepen. His driving made her tardy to a ZBZ charity gala one time over a year ago when she made the mistake of hitching a ride with you, and she’s probably brought it up a million times since. Kate pretends to hold a grudge, JT pretends to find it aggravating, and you get to sit back, enjoying the warm camaraderie overfilling your cup.

The pair have been friends almost as long as you've been friends with either of them, but since your graduation, they’ve settled into something more serious and more genuine. Where your connection to Tyson wilted outside the conveniences of college, your relationship with Kate matured and flourished. She’s more than just your chapter-appointed Little Sister to JT now, having become more of a true sister than anything else. Hence the juvenile teasing.

“Well, we’re here now. Alive.”

Your little snatches your hand in hers, tugging you away from JT, who feigns offense.

“And now I’m stealing your girlfriend in retribution for making me wait. Go do… whatever it is you two heathens used to do at parties. We have a pong title to defend.”

“Excellent idea, Madame President,” Gabe declares, hands roughly massaging the male ginger’s shoulders. He tosses a wink in Kate’s direction.

Before the other ginger can drag you away for good, your boyfriend catches your free wrist, pulling you back to him so his lips can find your ear. Breath hot, he drops his voice an octave, “President’s bathroom. One hour. Nod if you understand.”

Your chin dips, quick and subtle confirmation.

“Good girl.”

As your respective keepers separate you, JT shoots you a wink of his own. Then, you lose him in the crowd.

Kate leads you through the sea of party-goers to the living room, her grip on you tight and comforting. Her thumb rubs small circles on the inside of your wrist as you approach the table, almost as if privy to your worry. Kate is incredibly perceptive; she can read someone’s mind without even looking at them. With you, her Spidey senses transcend county lines, so it’s no real surprise she deduced your current condition from no more than your erratic pulse thumping against her palm. 

When you reach the bustling folding table commandeered for the BP tournament, Kate does all the talking.

It’s not too hard to get on the bracket despite the late entry with two newly-minted Alpha Chi brothers manning the post. The absolute last thing they want to do is get on the bad side of the president of their sister chapter (Kate) and the girlfriend of a legendary former chapter president (you). The pairs for the current game are only a couple of throws in, so it’s going to be at least ten minutes before it's your turn.

“You, my dear, look thirsty,” Kate declares through a mischievous grin.

You let her pull you towards the kitchen across the hall but have more difficulty than you expect actually getting there. Every few steps, someone stops either you or Kate. Mostly the latter, but she’s quick to show you off to whoever’s trying to seize her attention. Apparently, Kate’s been building quite the mythos of your time on campus, and it’s very… dizzying, to say the least.

“Kit-Kat!”

Kate abandons the poor freshman boy shooting his shot (and missing fantastically) in favor of the feminine voice sliding into the conversation.

In the blue-ish hue washing over the small space, you’re having a hard time placing her, but she seems very keen on making your acquaintance.

“Blake Meyers,” the newcomer announces, extending her hand with a smile.

You take it, giving her your name and a matching expression in return. The flattened vowels are distinct and recognizable, as is the last name. 

“Meyers?” you ask, attempting to work it out.

“Ava’s younger sister,” Kate interjects. “And one of our best steals this past recruitment.”

Blake blushes so brightly her freckles disappear.

You remember that feeling. What it was like to have an older member, especially someone as established and accomplished as an outgoing ZBZ president, go out of their way to make you feel special. You have zero doubt Blake will be walking on air for the foreseeable future, any of the common little doubts about whether or not she made the right choice vanishing.

“I was really hoping I’d get to meet you tonight,” the freshman tells you bashfully. “Kate gave the most beautiful speech about you and your legacy on Preference Night, and when she told me you might be coming with your boyfriend, I had to put a face to the name. And Jenny was the one who pref-ed me, so it seemed like—I don’t know, a non-negotiable?”

Jenny is one of the twins Kate took her junior year, and she couldn’t have picked better. It gave you peace of mind knowing your Kate would have good people around her once you couldn’t physically be there for her.

You won’t be surprised if Jenny takes Blake as her little. Kate pref-ed her, and before that, you pref-ed Kate. It’s basically a family tradition.

Not long after you thank Kate for her generous words and Blake for her kindness, Thomas, one of the new initiates in charge of the beer pong table, flags you down for your game. Not ready to end your conversation, invigorated by the breezy, jovial chatter your new life lacks, you tug Blake along with you.

Between exceptionally beautiful throws (if you do say so yourself), you learn more about Blake and her roommate and fellow ZBZ spring initiate, Emory. They pepper you with questions: about your first-year college experience, advice on getting the best room possible on the sophomore floor for mandatory live-in, whether or not you got anything particularly valuable in the various leadership positions you held, and what fraternities to steer clear of. You’re more than happy to answer them all. Kate sprinkles in comments and jokes occasionally, but she mostly defers to you so she can celebrate the end of a smooth second term as president.

Once Kate and you have successfully defended your title, you pass the torch to the future of your chapter. Blake and Emory make quick work of the first challengers and are close to a similar sweep with the second pair when your little remembers her earlier mission: refreshments.

This time, you both keep your heads ducked as you speed through the dancing bodies and make a beeline for the dinged-up lockers propped against the wall. You can’t help but smile when you see her reach for the lock—your old lock.

Every upperclassman (and a few select friends of the chapter, like Alpha Chi Sweethearts such as Kate and, once upon a time, yourself) is assigned a secure, personal locker in the oversized kitchen for quick access to personal items. During parties, they essentially become personal coolers. At your very last formal chapter meeting, you will-ed the hunk of metal down to Kate, along with the more sentimentally valuable items you wanted to leave behind with her.

“Wait, can you even drink?” Kate asks you from where she’s kneeling. Sarcasm scrunches her brows together.

“Hilarious,” you reply with a playful glare. “And before you loudly ask about the non-existent fetus like the devious bitch you love being, don’t. Unless you want to give JT an aneurysm."

Kate fishes out two slim, chilled cans as she grumbles about how boring you two have become in your “old age.” She shoves a ratty sweatshirt—an old favorite of Tyson’s—back into the small locker, quickly refastens the lock, and scrambles the dial. Then, she returns to her full height beside you.

“So, do you want to tell me what that wink from Gabe was about?” you ask, brow cocked.

“Do you want to tell me what your horndog of a boyfriend whispered in your ear?” Kate counters.

“Touché.”

Kate cracks open a Spindrift Spiked and slots it into your waiting palm. She taps the rim with her own, then sighs back against the cluttered kitchen island. She’s going to crack, you know it. Kate, even when she has a secret she wants to keep, never stays quiet for long. Especially not when you’re the one doing the asking.

“Okay, so, d’you remember how Tyson was, like, completely apathetic after we broke up right before Heaven & Hell last Halloween?”

You nod, recalling how irritated she was over FaceTime while you helped her pick a costume out of your box of hand-me-downs. You did your best not to laugh because Kate was clearly distressed, but it was kind of hard not to when she was buried in a heap of red and white feathers, wearing a too-small tutu dotted with rhinestones.

Kate takes a sip of the spiked strawberry lemonade before elaborating, “Well, I was understandably pissed—Don’t give me that look, okay? I know I broke up with him, but he shouldn’t have been that blasé that soon—so, I hatched a plan.”

You shake your head, laughing. Kate and her schemes.

“I wasn’t planning on taking Gabe as my date, but when I ran into him at Atomic the day before… I don’t know; I just couldn’t resist. I mean, Tyson worships the man. If anyone’s getting a reaction, it’s Landy. I had to.”

“And?” you prod. 

“And…” she stalls, eyes darting around the kitchen in search of pesky eavesdroppers, cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. “…we might’ve done it in the backseat of his truck.”

“I’m scared to ask where.”

She buries her face in your shoulder. “The venue’s parking lot.”

Your eyes bulge so hard you, for a split-second, worry they’ll pop out of your head onto the sticky hardwood and land amongst the discarded cans.

“And I didn’t tell you because I was so scared you and JT would hate me,” Kate moans into your skin. She shifts to peer up at you, hesitant. “You don’t, right?”

“I don’t think I’m even capable of hating you, Katie-Kat, let alone for something as silly as banging a hot blonde,” you giggle, and she’s quick to join you. Lowering your voice, “Especially the hottest of hot blondes.”

“I’m so telling JT you said that,” she teases, pulling away.

You shrug and take your first sip. “Go ahead. He’ll agree.”

“And this is why you’re my favorite couple,” she says, bumping her hip against yours. “The worst part is Tyson didn’t even care about that either! At the post-game, when he saw my lipstick smeared all over Gabe’s neck, he high-fived him. Tyson fucking high-fived him for screwing me. His ex-girlfriend! How supremely demented is that?”

“I wish I had an explanation for you, but I don’t. I’m starting to think I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.”

Kate takes hold of your unoccupied hand and squeezes it three times.

“I’m guessing things haven’t gotten any better?”

You shake your head, eyes downcast like there’s something super interesting between the floorboards. “I know he’s busy, and we’re busy, but he’s acting like our friendship meant nothing.”

“Not to start a therapy session in the middle of a rager, but did you... did you ever actually talk about That Night? I know you said JT whispered, but how positive are you that Josty didn't hear him?"

A few months after That Night, your guilt was on the brink of hemorrhaging. It was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped; you broke down in the middle of Talladega Nights. Fucking Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. All fat tears and snotty, incoherent spiraling, your chest heaved as JT rubbed your back. He was quiet, more concerned than confused, until you calmed down enough to explain what’d been weighing on your conscience. 

Then, your boyfriend looked clueless—because he was. JT didn’t remember his heat-of-the-moment pseudo-promise to taint Josty’s image of you.

After a scene or two, you broached the subject you’d both been avoiding since getting together. You wanted to apologize, and not that you needed JT’s permission, but you felt it wasn’t entirely your amends to make. He agreed but was adamantly opposed to operating on assumption alone. If Tyson was truly upset by the pillow talk he overheard, JT reasoned, he was old enough to be frank about it.

You found yourself agreeing, but also not? On the one hand, you could see this being an instance of your anxious mind making a mountain out of a molehill, finding fault where there’s none. But you knew Tyson, and you knew how sensitive he could be. 

Something shifted that night. You’d known then, too, even in the hazy afterglow. His despondency wasn’t subtle, and it wasn’t uncommon for his dejected expression—his forced smile dipped in feigned nonchalance—to visit you in therapy sessions or in your nightmares.

But every time you typed and re-typed one remorseful novel after another, every time your gun-shy thumb hovered over his contact, every time you nearly drove out to your alma mater to track him down… You couldn’t get yourself to see it through. 

At first, it was the nerves, the fear of hearing his pain and seeing his anger. Then, it was your own temper, stoked by indignation, that rose with every sign of withdrawal. Now, it’s just plain, garden-variety sadness.

It was—is disappointing how cleanly he severed ties. There one day and gone the next, no blow-out fight or melancholic hear-to-heart. Tyson was there; he was within reach, but at the same time, not at all. The casual dismissal is worse than outright rejection; the door ajar but wholly uninviting.

"In the moment, I was certain he didn’t. Now? Fuck, the percentage drops every time I replay it in my head,” you murmur, remorse bogging down your confession. "I know you made a point not to bring it up when you were together, but did he ever, I don’t know, say anything?"

Kate shakes her head. "No, sorry. But it's not like we actually did much talking anyway."

You snort despite your woes.

“Alright, that’s enough doom and gloom for one night. How’s my nephew?” Kate asks, bright smile chasing the blues away with all its might.

It’s a distraction and a good one, too. She listens intently as you prattle on about the bi-weekly training sessions you’re starting next month to help with the leash pulling and the ridiculous pet parents you’ve met at the dog park near your apartment. She inquires about the fluffy lamb she brought over the last time she stayed with you—it lasted all of a day in his over-excited grip—then gushes over another variation she saw last week while getting litter for Salem, her diabolical tuxedo cat.

By the time Kate has your phone in her hand, swiping through the designated album and asking more questions than each picture really warranted, you’re feeling a bit better.

Noticing the clock, you stumble through a totally-not-suspicious excuse to venture upstairs—alone. Kate shoots you a knowing look but doesn’t give you a hard time. To be honest, she’s just glad you came tonight. Instead of a witty jab or half-hearted guilt trip, she slips a gold foil square into your unsuspecting palm and sends you on your way with a supportive swat to the rear.

Access to the second floor during parties is typically mediated by two to three gatekeepers, depending on the scale and projected rowdiness of each gathering. Three’s the magic number tonight: two up-and-coming juniors and an outgoing senior. They grant you passage with little more than a nod of acknowledgment.

“What? No riddle this time?” you tease over your shoulder.

The senior, an engineering major with a penchant for brain teasers, answers with a hoot. Cale Makar shakes his head, both amused and flattered you remembered his signature move. His puppy crush on you is an open secret. “I was given strict instructions to ‘keep the shenanigans’ to a minimum with you, Your Majesty.”

“JT?” you venture a guess, hand paused on the paint-chipped banister. He’s the only one who still sprinkles in the silly nickname these days.

“Landy, actually.”

Well, close enough.

You shouldn’t be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time the former chapter president enlisted Cale, his little, to assist in your and JT’s more salacious antics.

As soon as Gabe had the defenseman under his wing, he was putting him to work. Not that the younger blonde particularly minded, as his affinity for creative, slightly devious schemes rivaled that of Kate’s. It was Cale, you later found out, who ran interference during Semi Formal… while you were defiled on the balcony.

“Still doing his bidding, I see.”

He counters with that lopsided “Get Out of Jail Free” grin. “What can I say? The man puts up a mean bribe.”

As if cued, Cale’s companions, who you now recognize as Alex Newhook and Bowen Byram, step into view. In Alex’s raised grip is a case of Labatt Blue, and in each of Bowen’s, a bottle of bottom-shelf cabernet. You doubt the trio would notice or mind the subpar quality, though. Between their happy heads, Cale fists a bottle of champagne you know he’ll misplace before he can polish it off.

“Jesus, how drunk is he?” you tease, the follow-up to an exaggerated gasp.

Sure, the quality’s shit, but their haul is far more valuable than your appraisal of their job; it’s a frat house, not Buckingham Palace.

“Not drunk enough to not see you here with us.” Cale’s voice tapers off, his pale eyes tracking someone stalking down the hall before nervously flicking up to the ceiling, “…and not up there with JTC.”

JTC — Talk about a blast from the past.

An anticipatory tingling erupts between your inner thighs just knowing he’s up there right now waiting for you. This is the part of your “homecoming” that excited you most and had been since the moment your boyfriend pinned the invite from the alumni association onto the fridge.

As blissfully domestic as your life together has become, it lacks the spontaneity your college life had been brimming with. Your sex life could never be categorized as mundane or clinical, but you’re finding it difficult to replicate the adrenaline rush stealing secret moments inherently provided.

Sometimes, in your more (admittedly) desperate moments, you’ve caught your fingers moving beneath the sheets to mindlessly chase the thrill of those fleeting intimacies, despite how awful the constant wondering and wallowing felt then or, maybe because of it, pain and pleasure are uniquely human indulgences sought in equal measure. When intertwined, they’ve been known to satiate masochistic cravings the way a sad movie or a sprawling, high-speed rollercoaster might.

However, this time, your risk-spurned euphoria will be at your own hand. The newfound agency—the ability to choose when, how, or if any risk is involved—has you darting up the stairs with a fire under your soles.

Before you round the corner and disappear down the hall, you make sure to call out, “Thank you for your service!” accompanied by a two-finger mock salute. You don’t stick around to catch their responses, though.

As you make your way down the dim corridor, you run smack into a very giggly Sarah Jones, just shy of your destination. Eyes distant and wide, she attempts to apologize for something—Something about sabotaging the Big-Little pairings your senior spring?—but it’s more bubbles than actual words. You nod along, still not quite sure what you’re accepting an apology for but too antsy to forge ahead to play detective. Your purposeful strides went unnoticed in her cloud of intoxication and nostalgia, but Erik Johnson, who’d been JT’s vice president, mercifully ushers his inebriated fiancé out of your path by the shoulders.

You offer him a faint smile of gratitude as they head in the opposite direction.

Over the music, you faintly hear Sarah begin chattering on about something unrelated, your reunion long forgotten already. You can’t help but chuckle a little on behalf of your younger self, who would’ve gawked at snobbish Sarah Jones drunk and voluntarily slumming it in a ramshackle house on Greek Row. And sporting a rock from a Degenerate on Ice (her nickname for your brother fraternity, not yours), too? That would’ve been the icing. But, the older, more mature, once-weekly-therapy iteration of yourself is happy she’s happy.

Thoroughly amused but happy nevertheless.

As you reach for the tarnished doorknob of the president’s suite, the rickety door flings open to reveal your boyfriend, all flushed cheeks and frenzied eyes.

JT pulls you inside, lips easily taking possession of yours, the heel of his lived-in/loved-on sneaker nudging the door shut. The hinges groan in protest to the rough treatment. Still fussy as ever. This house is a goddamn time capsule, you muse. Neither of you has the patience for benevolence. If it jams, it jams. That’s a future-self problem. Diligence now would only slow you down.

And would a prolonged stay on memory lane really be all that bad?

Your boyfriend cages you so close that when he manages more than panted praise between hot-and-heavy touches, the words barely fit in the gap between your mouths. “I was beginning to think you stood me up, sweetheart.”

The light-hearted accusation is semi-whispered, somewhat hoarse, in the way his voice always sounded when he came home from a long shift at the hospital downtown or post-game at the height of his collegiate career. JT isn’t a hard person to read—downright wolfish when he’s homing in on a target—but the low, raspy tone makes his intent glaring.

Your body thrums with anticipation.

“Never,” you croon back. A breathy moan sweetens your voice, courtesy of the calloused hand inching up the back of your bare thigh, bypassing the hem of your skirt with no effort or resistance. Arms looping around his neck, you make an inquiry: “Is there a reason we’re in your old bedroom instead of, I don’t know, the king-sized bed in the honeymoon suite you insisted we spring for?”

Tufts of faint copper tickle your cheek. Your boyfriend lands a kiss on your crowd-warmed forearm. Then, much to your displeasure, he steps out of the tight embrace.

“Y’know, I remembered something earlier when I was downstairs,” JT supplies in an apparent non-answer.

He guides you, as understanding rises in your mental periphery, through the barely-lit space toward the Jack-and-Jill bathroom between this room and the next. Then, he flicks on the secondary light, the dimmer of the two, before tugging you over yet another threshold. His fingers twitch at his sides, lascivious.

You stare back at him expectantly, vision tunneling as you wait, wait, wait.

The latch might as well have been a starting pistol; the subtle click ringing in your eardrums like the sonic crack of a live round; his breath a plume of smoke from a charged muzzle well beyond its flash point. Pent-up, needy tension burns hot and burns brighter. Residue from the night prior aflame; you, a moth seduced.

JT drives forward. Stalking, like a cat on a bird, until he’s pinned you to the door. His dash was easy, made short and hasty by the starting block eagerness in your dilated eyes.

Mouth descending on your sensitive neck, hips grinding his want into your squirming form, harsh belt buckle nudging just right with each sharp rut.

“There’s still one thing left on my college bucket list.”

He sinks the candor in with his incisors. Not hard enough to break the skin, but that was never his intention. The sting is a reminder. Of your shared past, of his unwavering desire—of who is in charge.

Message received. Loud and clear.

JT leans away to admire his handiwork. One big hand poised at your jaw, and the other braced beside your head, keeping your shyness from blocking the perfect view; you’ve never been able to hide from him and never will.

His curious thumb deviates from the original objective to caress the skin, now splotched violet and angry. Softly, at first, like he’s committing the damage to memory. Then, emboldened by a sudden piercing hiss forcing itself from your throat, JT pushes down on the tender spot. The cruel, unexpected pressure pulls pitiful bleating cries from your undulating chest.

This is no longer an expedition to gather intel; it’s a primal instinct.

For a few moments, he just holds you like this. A cloistered existence made worthwhile by him occasionally digging deeper into the column of your throat, the pressure taking on a raptorial quality. Your boyfriend wears his herald grin at a rakish angle. It unfurls with refined delicacy, an effective diversion for his next endeavor. Breathe like a precision instrument; the sharp phantom-edge fans across the sucked-raw skin with unhurried ease.

There isn’t enough alcohol in your system to dull the twinge — and you’re glad for it. It’d be a crime to dilute a burn this good, this all-consuming. You crumble between him and the door, your world only this big. His name tumbles out with a pulled-candy moan, completely devoid of dignity.

JT’s chest rumbles beneath your clammy palms. “You gonna be a good girl and help me tie up loose ends?”

His strawberry-blonde crown dips to nuzzle your cheek. Hot tongue tracing an experimental line, JT groaning as it does. The muscle trawls for tears you didn’t realize you shed, humming through the pursuit. The low-pitched moan sends a chill straight down your spine right to your toes.

The hand gripping your jaw lowers so his fingers are able to coil themselves around somewhere more advantageous — your neck. Your eyelids flutter, woozy. His firm squeeze, just enough to make everything spin and keep you still, has become blissfully familiar over time, but your breath still hitches like it’s the first.

“Hm, sweetheart? Don’t be rude. I asked you a question.”

Your lips part, a barbed retort to his condescension on your tongue, but all you can push out is the strangled yelp of a wounded animal.

The hand by your temple no longer rests against the door. In the fog, it snuck up under your skirt; JT never meant to get an answer out of you; he just likes to watch you squirm. Likes to have something to reprimand you for.

His nimble fingers dance over the thin, sodden material pulled taut over your heat. Less touching, more hovering. Small, lazy movements that betray how well he can play your body. They float above the tingling bundle of nerves, further movement pending, contingent upon your obedience.

“P-please,” comes your pouted whimper.

“Focus for me, pretty baby. Tell me what I want to hear. Come on, let me make things easy for you. I can feel how badly you want to — and you aren’t in a position to be difficult, are you?”

You give in, and though the words you babble are largely unintelligible, JT’s ultimately satisfied.

“Such a good listener I’ve got myself. But you’re always to eager to please, aren’t you? You might throw stones from behind that tough girl act, but it’s just that: an act. I have a puddle in my hand to prove it.”

His frankness sears your face.

You’ve acquired a tolerance for his raunchy silver tongue through months of close proximity, but the mechanism is shoddy at best. Stalls and misfires galore. Against all odds (said “odds” being his fingertips toying with the edges of fabric between your thighs), you summon up a tawdry retort from the growing arsenal. “Don’t l-let it go to waste, Compher.”

It's not your best work, but much better than the slurred gurgle that preceded it.

He loves how you manage to be any sort of cheeky with him, even with your head swimming, stuttering and all.

“I don’t think it matters, sweetheart. I know there’s no shortage. Plenty more where it came from.”

With your knee, you nudge his hard-on and supply some honey-tongued snark of your own. “Is that your ego, or are you just excited to see me?”

Your boyfriend chokes out short-lived mirth. Then, with an accompanying smile, his tongue presses to the inside of his cheek. Amused, but by the sting of the remark’s undeniable truth, not your cleverness. The protrusion moves just below his bottom lip as he swipes the muscle over his teeth, a half-second sardonic gesture. It calls attention to your impudence without dignifying it with a verbal reply.

His brow lifts to negate any confusion, feigned or otherwise. “Are you going to keep being a brat, or are you going to let me fuck you with my fingers?”

You gulp down your ready-mixed wisecracks.

“Nothing to say now?” JT taunts. “Funny how that works.”

Fuckin’ wisenheimer. His voice is so haughty you have to bite your lip to keep your foot out of your mouth, unwilling to jeopardize your impending pleasure for short-term gratification.

Your boyfriend’s smugness—and your subsequent annoyance—becomes irrelevant when your panties are roughly pushed to the side, and his thick finger slips past your taut entrance. Tip to knuckle in one succinct trust; your startled gasp drowns out the noise rising up through the floorboards.

Hips bucking forward—you just can’t help yourself—you're in search of some friction to marry with the blinding stretch. He’s made the tensile opening accommodate far more in length and thickness, but not like this. Rarely does he create space where there is barely any, having forgone tenderness. Slowly widening a gap with gentle pressure, not demanding room like it’s already his to occupy.

Your surprise drips down his hand.

The bliss—the relief, is palpable. Your head dips into the crook of his neck, and the gravity of the situation felt for the first time.

Before, you didn’t see any substance in a tipsy frat bathroom hook-up. The older you got, the more pointless it seemed, especially with an established, long-term partner. The novelty wasn’t lost on you, of course, but that’s all you’d written it off as.

Countless collegiate nights were spent imagining one like this one. A moment where your inescapable feelings for him would be matched outright. When the pressure of his stifled emotions would build too fast to keep them from boiling over, too mighty in stature. Suddenly overcome by unrequited feelings of his own, unable to uphold all the ridiculous unspoken platonic conventions with the same authority he commands now.

This is important. For your past and present selves. The significance of this overdone, soapy teen drama scenario cannot be overlooked because it underscores the progress you’ve made together. Years of dancing around one another, the unconventional catalyst and nontraditional timeline, every hushed conversation in the wee hours before responsibilities wake, the sleepless nights and the snooze-filled afternoons—this ostensibly clichéd moment is an amalgamation of it all.

One thought rises above the frenzied rest: Was this here all along?

Is this what was waiting on the other side of the aimless pining and the confusion and the hurt?

The journey might’ve been fucking hell, but the view from here is pretty damn heavenly.

Overwhelmed by your epiphany and his dexterous motions, you moan into his skin far louder than your pride would’ve otherwise allowed outside your shared apartment.

His arrogant laughter grates before it really registers. Venom secretes from your salivary glands when it does, but the melted retribution never makes it past your lips. His second finger robs it of the opportunity, and the third sends all thoughts out your ears. The light circles over your clit cloud your vision, nails digging into his jersey-clad back—I’m feeling nostalgic, he’d said. In more ways than one, apparently.

“S’good—wanted this for so long, Compher—k-kept wishing it was you that night, not Miles.”

JT seethes at the admission, curling his fingers until your knees buckle and you’re entirely reliant on him to keep you off the floor. Even as your mind slips further and further away, your hips manage to move in time with his hand. Meeting each stroke with equal hustle and vigor, a clear end goal on the horizon.

Then his thumb drops away, his hand coming to a halt, and he steps back. 

Away.

Frustration pushes the amassed tears waiting in the wings down your cheeks. Emotion runs down your face; a heavy spill indeed.

“I don’t ever want to hear another man’s name outta your mouth when it’s my fingers buried in your pussy.” His jealousy is well-polished. Manicure-smooth, like he’s been maintaining its luster in preparation for this very occasion. "—'specially not the motherfucker that made sure I heard all your pretty sounds through the walls.”

You’d grin if you weren’t so miserable.

That’d been your intention. It wasn’t anything Miles had or did that made him different from the rest of the chapter (who all, at one point or another, tried their luck with JTC’s hot best friend), just simply when he decided to shoot his shot. The only reason you’d been out in the first place was because you reached your breaking point, no longer able to stomach what you felt for JT, and you made sure Miles knew this before you let him call an Uber.

Despite playing for the same team, the pair shared a touch-and-go rivalry. You never knew if the intensity would result in a sweeping victory or an in-house, all-out brawl. If they ever saw eye to eye, you’d of never known. Miles needed no convincing to push JT’s buttons.

There was some heavy petting, nothing more. The only time Miles saw you undress was to change into the pajamas he lent you before knocking out on his futon, leaving you to take the bed. But JT didn’t know that. If sitting in their chapter house’s kitchen at 5 o’clock the next morning didn’t raise suspicion, the non-Compher borrowed t-shirt and ruffled hair certainly did.

Back then, he refused to ask. Even though you could see how badly he wanted to pry. Miles didn’t have anything he worth sharing, so JT was left to fill in the blanks.

You’d tell him the truth later, but right now, you wanted to see what milking his assumptions could get you.

“Did you like what you heard?”

His jaw ticks. Your hips push against his with a knowing simper.

You lean forward, closing the space he forced, lips barely brushing his ear, “Did you get off on it? Fuck your hand picturing yourself in his place… wishing it was my pussy instead?”

You hear the thud before you feel your head against the door or his hand back around your throat, his fingers deep between your walls again. The everywhere-throb makes you laugh. Giggle, really.

He squeezes until you’re no longer capable of mockery. His pace hastens, leveling out only once your thighs have started shaking around his wrist, knees cutting off his circulation elbow-down. Somehow, he keeps going despite the icy tingle. His determination overrides physical discomfort, knowing how close you’re getting. Feeling it in the distinct fluttering around his digits, seeing it in your trembling, swollen bottom lip.

“You’re so full of shit.” His mouth twitches at your throaty moan. A defiant hint of levity circles his pupils; he never stays riled up for long when it’s you yanking his chain. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You kiss him then, messy and crude, love-drunk. He tastes like your chapstick and gin, with a biting citric aftertaste —Grapefruit, maybe?—and you suck it in like you haven’t had a drop of water in days. And, in turn, he drinks down every choked sob and nonsensical half-thought you babble, every drop shooting straight to his loins.

He drives into you with fervor, humming as his tongue slips against yours, iron bulge omnipresent. The hand around your neck loosens but never leaves its post, thumb stroking your pulse point. I know everything about you, his movements whisper. Over and over, in and out. He, just as much as you, gets lost in the repetition.

“Don’t want him, never wanted him. Jus’ you—Always you.” It comes out slurred, mushy like your head, like your heart.

JT’s cock isn’t immune to affirmation and twitches through his too-tight jeans. Groaning, “Go on, sweetheart. Scream my name. I want every single person in this house to know exactly who’s fucking you this good.”

You do just that, writhing on his hand, eventually burying your face into his warm neck when it gets to be too much. He continues fucking you, and you continue crying for him, the pathetic little whimpers muffled now by his body.

JT guides you through the rest of your orgasm, as he always does. He watches your face carefully on the comedown, searching for any sign of regret or discomfort. When he finds none, he cradles your shaking form against his solid chest, the hand that, only moments ago, tore you apart, soothing you back down to earth. Once you’ve settled, he walks you back and away from the door.

A startled yelp falls from your lips when you feel the chilly edge of the countertop. You pull away from your boyfriend, brows furrowing with confusion.

His hand taps the outside of your thigh. "Up."

You’re having a hard time keeping your eyes open, let alone stringing thoughts together, so the command is met with inaction. Impatient as ever, JT wordlessly hoists you where he wants you and sinks down to his knees, big hands cupping yours.

“What’re you doing?” Strained, barely above a whisper.

He stares up at you with dopey, lovestruck eyes. “Come on, Compher. You can gimmie another one, can’t you?”

You aren’t an idiot. Often sleep deprived beyond belief and, more often than not, fucked-out on JT’s… Well, anything—but definitely not an idiot. You knew exactly what that loaded gun of a pet name implied the moment he used it. It first slipped out during a frantic supply closet rendezvous midway through your company’s holiday party, then a few more times in the months after.

It hasn’t lost its sparkle. It does make you more and more impatient each time he flashes it, though.

Fuckin’ tease.

Your fingers burrow in his hair, tugging from the root until his eyelids flutter prettily. “As long as you let me return the favor after—need to taste you so bad.”

“Deal,” he mumbles into your skin a half-second later.

His hands push your already-short skirt up, bunching it atop your hips and out of the way. Your boyfriend takes the time to remove the fabric barrier this time, and you don’t miss the way he tries to slip them into his back pocket without you noticing. Likely because it’d normally be a tease-able offense.

But not tonight, not right now.

Instead, you let a shiver speak for itself. The risqué gesture reminds you of the pair he used as a pocket square when his parents took you two to a celebratory dinner following his white coat ceremony. The rumble of his chuckle tells you his mind went there, too.

JT leans in, big eyes never moving from yours, his warm exhale fanning over your swollen folds. The tooth-marked bruise forming on the side of your throat pricks in tandem response. The action, a repeat of your boyfriend’s earlier antics, naturally yields similar enough results. He catches on, inching forward to—

Something bangs against the door.

His face falls; your heart seizes.

“Occupied!” your boyfriend barks, hands paused but gripping you tightly. He looks like he’s on the verge of exploding.

A full, lilting sound barrels into the door—too-good-to-be-true laughter. His breathy timbre is an unsteady balance of cocksure and skittish; a preference for one side or the other is blurred by the wood in its way. “It’s me, dickhead.”

Then, the curtain is lifted. A pocket of silence ushers in a stillness that cracks like a bolt from the blue.

Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel right now. You most definitely suffered a concussion somewhere in all JT’s reprimanding; you’re hallucinating right now. That, or the singular seltzer in your system magically turned psychotropic after consumption.

Waiting in the threshold is Tyson Jost. A quarter-drunk fifth of Jack in one hand and that goofy, irrepressible smile plastered on his face. Almost frozen in time—good-humored, untouched. As if nothing’s happened, nothing’s changed. Suave, and standing there like he hasn’t ignored you for months on end, like your and JT’s absence in his life wasn’t felt the way the Tyson-sized void in yours was.

Idle and morose, his eyes are the only defectors to his blasé demeanor. Timid and downturned, akin to a kicked puppy, they beg you and your boyfriend to assuage his guilt. An olive branch, a white flag in the wind. Amid their vulnerability, they still manage to cut into you in a way that feels too intimate, too honest—too much.

The worst part of this charged maelstrom is knowing Tyson isn’t capable of being cruel on purpose, then or now. It's bittersweet.

Careless or callous, it hurts all the same. It’s difficult to sift through the muck and decide which feelings should guide your actions when there’s no easy place to lay blame.

A gnarly, muddy morass of emotion climbs out of your gut and fills your throat, threatening to make an appearance each time you dare to exhale. You’re nervous and confused, elated and optimistic, angry and reproachful. The burn of betrayal rushes up your neck and across the bridge of your nose, but all the words you’ve stockpiled for this rainy day stick to your tongue like tar. Dark, thick, and flammable—your silence is probably for the best.

Bronze eyes, somber beneath the fan of flaxen lashes, adopt a strange aloofness that doesn’t suit his face. Lacquered just so as to protect the gooey softness beneath, the finish does nothing to obstruct or disguise his desirous longing or a brand of blues you’ve never seen in him before.

The intensity of your braided gazes is sanguine at best, duplicitous at worst, but disorienting all the same.

Anxiously, you chew on time; you’re trying your best not to swallow minutes and hours in big gulps. Your attempts to savor their confounding guilty-pleasure flavor are as futile as hoping the animosity would dissipate on its own. Or wishing the distance was just a nightmare you were on the verge of waking up from.

JT’s pulse races against your skin. He’s just as affected, just better at hiding it.

“Took you long enough,” is what JT says in greeting from the floor, dry words flung over his shoulder to curb the growing tension. Blithesome and biting and far more hospitable than you imagined.

All you can do is blink, slack-jawed; there are pieces you’re missing.

JT chuckles at your expression. He pecks your inner thigh to regain your attention. “Fuck now, talk later. Sound good?”

His words crack any and all inhibitions. Like opening the door to a cage, his reassurance grants your mind and heart the permission to succumb to the wave of emotions—lust overtaking the pack with ease.

Eyes still stuck on the ghost in the doorway, you nod your head in agreement. It’s as if you’re afraid your voice might rupture the bubble.

“Figured you’d be a little parched, baby.” Tyson, voice becoming jocular as ever, wags the bottle as he shuts the door behind himself. His tone might be light-hearted, but his gaze is anything but. Starved is the only way you can think to aptly describe the shadow. “And we can’t have that, now can we?”

You barely register JT vacating the prime real estate to accommodate his best friend, and subconsciously, you scoot closer to the edge. You knew you missed him, but you underestimated how needy you’d become if he ever stood before you again.

Both men notice.

Grinning, Tyson takes hold of your jaw. His hand emits a small tremor of unease, hesitant where JT had been demanding. The accidental brush of his fingertips over your boyfriend’s trailed claim rattles free a melancholic whimper. Your eyes glaze over, watering as your neck cranes up at him. He gently tilts your face to the side to assess the damage. You can feel his eyes raking over the marred skin, a sensation akin to your boyfriend’s weaponized breath. Goosebumps rise in their wake.

In reference to the Neanderthal surveying you over his shoulder, Tyson sniggers. “Filthy bastard.”

Charming as ever.

“She deserved it.” JT’s nonchalant shrug is more dismissive than his verbal nod.

Wicked eyes twinkle. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

You pinch his side, offended. Nevertheless, you purr at the certitude dripping from his husky vibrato.

He yelps and bats your hand away. “Got you good, didn’t he?”

You nod.

The baby talk-adjacent voice is demeaning, but with your only shield burning a hole in your boyfriend’s back pocket, lying about the effect it's having would be pointless.

Propriety is becoming increasingly moot, as this conversation circling around you carves space for new possibilities.

“Poor thing,” Josty hums, his thumb coasting back and forth over your jaw. His breath is smokey-sweet, honeyed. “M'gonna make it all better. Open up, baby.”

It’s something straight out of an early aughts raunchy teen comedy, the way he holds your mouth open to pour whiskey straight down, doing so without the lip ever touching either one of yours. The thin stream drags slightly as it goes down, but you’d never know watching the pillowy spirit disappear into you. You’re too eager to impress them both to give in and react—to the burn in your throat or the circumstances of this affair. You guzzle the oaky vanilla-clove flavor, smiling dumbly at the toasted aftertaste, all too happy to take anything and everything you’re given.

Still, either by virtue of Tyson’s lingering tipsiness or your inattention, some of the amber liquid escapes over your bottom lip, dribbling over your chin and down in between your cleavage. There isn’t enough time to consider wiping it off; Josty’s mouth is sucking you clean before the bottle even hits the counter beside you.

“Would be a shame…” Tyson starts, briefly interrupting himself with a succession of wet, open-mouthed pecks he’s decided to spoil your décolletage with, “…to let it go to waste.”

JT’s begrudged scoff cuts through the trance. “Jesus, kid. Where’d you learn that? What the fuck have you been doing? Or should I be asking ‘who' you've been doing?"

Tyson flinches at the coarse overtone the questions carry. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of reaction only you’re close enough to feel. He just laughs into your neck rather than humoring JT or feeding into whatever he’s implying.

You’re too woozy to toss in your two cents in favor of either side.

Cold countertop lapping up your wetness, the burning palm cupping your face to aid the pursuit of sugary lips, the memory of his tongue gliding over your sticky skin—your boyfriend a few paces away, watching. That’s more potent than any liquor, mixed or straight. It doesn’t take long for you to pull away, in a there-but-not state of mind, to slouch against Tyson’s chest. Head heavy, warmed and spinning.

Happy.

“Somethin’ special, aren’t you?” Tyson muses as he kneads the tender spot where your hairline meets your neck. You peck his forearm.

“As sweet as this reunion’s been, you came up here for a reason. Get to it; we don’t have all night. I imagine La Tornade will be wanting his bathroom back eventually.”

You whimper at the sharp edge of his voice, even though you weren’t the intended target.

JT’s dark drawl was laden with protective affection for you, his devotion hardened by a hue of discontent reminiscent of a paternal chide. An outsider looking in might not see beyond the mediator-in-shining-armor ruse, mistakenly pruning away JT’s thorny pain and rotted grief, but you know better. The situation and him. While genuine, his defense of your bruised feelings is a trojan horse for his own. He’s conveying his rage how he can: under the guise of selflessness.

Tyson gulps, eyes downcasted, then nods. He understands as well as you do. When he finally looks up, the shadow’s fallen over his face once more, cloud drooped low overhead.

“You’re scaring me, Josty.”

This makes him laugh, his mood brightening a tad. “If anyone should be scared, it’s me.”

In your periphery, you catch JT urging him to continue with a stiff glare.

“I-I’ve been such an ass. I—I just care so damn much. About you. About Compher, and our friendship. When you graduated, m-my whole world changed. Like someone gutted my life, scooped out all the good, comfortable stuff and left me with the shell. I felt like I lost my people. Like I was left behind. And then I had to watch you two get closer than ever—without me. It fucking sucked, and I didn’t cope well. Didn’t cope at all, really. Kate’ll tell you, she took the brunt of my tailspin.”

You can’t help but snort despite the thick emotion welling up behind your eyes. The boys smile, too. Things look up.

Tyson takes your hand in a tight squeeze; his pulse jumps into your palm. “But that’s no excuse for what I did—didn’t do. How I treated you. You were trying so hard, and all I did was punish you for it. For constantly reminding me you guys are there and not here. For moving on with your life like you’re supposed to.”

He claims JT’s old spot knelt between your parted knees. “And I’m sorry. So deeply sorry, baby. Please let me make it up to you—let me apologize properly.”

Tears of his own shine up at you from his flushed cheeks. Gently, you take his face in your hands, rubbing away the spilled emotion with the soft pads of your thumbs.

A silent pardon.

The walls throw back the echo of his low, audible content—of relief.

“Is this okay?” His voice is barely a whisper, dwindling to a hush as the question tapers off.

Too determined to quiet his audible fear of rejection—and to have his mouth on you as fast as humanly possible—to bother with words, you nod immediately.

“With how much she’s been dripping onto the counter since you walked in, what do you think?” JT interjects, mood vastly improved.

Your cheeks and neck heat just as he intended.

The younger forward chuckles, hands massaging up and down your sensitive thighs, gripping them as if holding himself back from lunging too soon.

A predator lurking in the brush, lying in wait.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything. Didn’t want to embarrass her.” He winks up at you, confidence rising to the surface once more. You have to fight to maintain eye contact; he’s that stupidly attractive. “ —was try t’be a gentleman.”

You’re a flurry of butterflies, a whimpering mess.

Tyson wants to tease your body; it’s in his nature. But he won’t. Namely, because he can’t. No matter how good some old-fashioned edging would eventually make you feel, he’s already on JT’s shit list as is.

Besides, he’s only been fiending for a taste since you introduced yourself to him. And there's no time like the present...

Your guttural scream—an appropriate, albeit mortifying reaction to his baby pink lips enveloping your swollen clit—pumps his chest full with pride. Tongue flat, he charts the length of your heat with a gentleness you hadn’t thought your collective excitement would allow for. His hands coast over your legs, syncing with his mouth, until he physically cannot wait any longer. One final pass, one so agonizingly slow your greedy hips thoughtlessly vie for more of anything, brings his wistful, fidgeting digits to rest at the apex of your thighs.

“Pause.”

JT’s clipped command is a bucket of ice water.

Your vocal annoyance is matched by Tyson’s, but you both know how delicate a game you’re playing.

With his thumb still lazily swirling to your clit, Tyson’s inquisitive head begins to turn around. Before he gets anywhere worthwhile, it’s swiftly spun back into place by your boyfriend’s firm hand.

You can’t even convey how hot you find JT’s fingers casually twisting in his friend’s curly mop—just the way you love; all you manage is a warbled, mostly airy cry. Your distressed state worsens watching the show unfold between your lax, parted knees: reluctant, fluttery lashes over neon cheeks; a rosy, glistening bottom lip sacrificed to cage mousy whimpers, his ragged breathing betraying all effort toward feigning indifference to JT’s self-assured manhandling.

Your boyfriend snickers at your expression, a fish lingering open-mouthed for a surface sip, an ill-attempt to supplement a natural mode gone inadequate. No matter how much oxygen your widened jaw draws in, it never feels sufficient. A bottomless pit, a balloon with a fatal puncture wound. Gone before your depleted brain could make use of it.

“Have to make sure he does it right, don’t I, sweetheart?” JT’s voice is smooth and low, charring by the second; he’s enjoying the view as much as you are.

Tyson rolls his tawny eyes. Half-hearted annoyance. “Controlling much?”

“I know what my woman needs.”

The look you share with your friend is unequivocally feral.

And the growl JT hurls back, a low-pitched rumble permeating the tight space with little effort on his part, is just plain mean.

His attitude could not be more arrogant. The cavalier persona makes you shiver, and Tyson’s breath hitch. Humming, your boyfriend tugs on his curls until the two’s eyes are locked. Inescapable. The brunette gasps as he tries desperately to hold his eyes open, waiting with bated breath.

JT licks his lips, triumphant. “Open her up for me, will ya?” Mischief catches in the light as quickly as it falls into your boyfriend’s lap. His grip tightens, and Tyson whimpers like a naughty puppy caught red-handed. “Don’t screw around, ‘kay? She needs all the help her tight pussy can get, and we don’t have all night.”

Panting, his nod is the only affirmative he can muster up. And the only one his limited range of motion will allow for. Smug and pleased enough, JT all but throws his friend into your fire, his nose bumping where you’re most sensitive. 

You actually yelp.

Holding your torrid gaze, Tyson dips his marriage and middle into you. You groan out what you meant to be his name—But who knows? And who fucking cares?—unable to control yourself while he’s finally touching you like this. Finally back.

Tyson finger-fucks you at an even pace, steadily pushing you up the hill. His satisfaction is tangible when he pulls out and away, so very delighted by your wonton hiss of annoyance. Even more so when the volume hikes up in response to the slippery pads of his fingers circling your clit. Your lewd whines harmonize with your audible arousal as he works it back into your fragile skin, playing with your wetness, utterly fascinated.

“What d’ya think, baby? Think you’re wet enough to take another finger?” JT’s tone is as cocky as his stupid rhetorical question. He, however, made no move to conceal his growing impatience.

“Mhmm,” you murmur, head like a rubber ball hitting the pavement. Still, you remember your manners. “Please—c-can I? Can I have another?”

His smile is pure adoration, dreamlike.

JT’s reverent eyes stay with you, but his words pour down over the eager man on the floor as he coaxes you halfway to heaven. “You heard her, kid. Give the lady what she deserves.”

Kid—Tyson hates when people call him that, but he especially loathes JT's usage. There’s barely an age difference, but with the way everyone acts, it might as well be decades. It seems like no matter what he does to prove himself, he’s still the baby. Every additional candle is like an annual slap in the face, a mockery that won’t end.

He can feel anger and frustration curdling low in his stomach just thinking about all the attempts that fell flat, and he decides to put the grumbling to good use. The vibration is red-hot and deliberate against your responsive, slick center, irritation like lighter fluid.

He gives you more than just three fingers. He splays all three—wide. Even as they stroke your soft inner walls, Tyson keeps you stretched so as to leave no slack. Your boyfriend wants you open? Tyson will fucking tear you apart, happily. (Yes, spite is a factor.)

Highly sensitive and spread to the limit, you ascend far quicker than usual. Fisting a bushel of golden-brown curls, nails digging rapt half-moons, you guide his willing face to the necessary places to see yourself through. Every slight adjustment has your entire body jerking haphazardly as it struggles to process the rocketing shockwaves.

JT’s hand retreats—only slightly—to make way for yours, to give you more leverage to fuck yourself through it. Less than a foot away, your boyfriend’s chest heaves in time with yours, his eyes pits of lust you dive into with clumsy enthusiasm.

During one particular, delicious pass, the tip of Tyson’s tongue catches your strained entrance, and when you unexpectedly gush against his mouth in response, he begins lapping over and around your carnal connection.

“Holy shit — Ty, I-I’m — I’m — “

The denouement of your climax is nothing short of glorious, as rude of a sentence interruptor as it was. Half-mewls and purred praise rain down from your loosened lips, eyes screwed shut.

Tyson melts over the way you take control of your orgasm, so unabashed and authoritative. You go after what you want; he respects that majorly. And getting to feel and taste what makes you tick doesn’t hurt either.

Neither do you and your pretty, throbbing walls cutting off blood flow while your boyfriend tugs his hair from behind.

“Just like that, keep fucking her through it. Did so good—doin’ so good for us.”

JT’s praise sends the brunette’s unoccupied hand right to his bulge.

This is the best he’s felt in months.

There’s the mythical balance of bliss-to-tension to key up his senses, shooting white-hot tingles of want from his head to his feet and flaming between his ribs, affection for you. You forgive him, JT forgives him, and, most importantly, he forgives himself.

He feels buoyant with his face coated in your climax, so much so that it runs down from his chin to his neck, staining the collar of his beer-soaked tee; he hopes you might return his favor later.

Josty’s guilty hand is knocked away by a firm toe.

“Y’haven’t earned it, bud,” his mentor chides.

The delinquent appendage flops lamely at his side for a split second, then lifts beside his nose to join its partner at your slick core. As if remembering there’s work to be done, a goal to attain. Beneath this new asset, your achy, spent clit pulses, egging him on with every thump, thump, thump.

Tempting him to do something, to take it further…

He thinks about it. Fuck, does he think about it—you can see the tape winding in his eyes.

JT can read Tyson’s mind through his skull, apparently. “Don’t even think about it, kid. Her last one’s mine, but you’re more than welcome to watch from right here.” —Your boyfriend points to the remaining space between the sinks, knowing it’ll be close quarters for you both— “Just remember: I only said watch. This is groveling, not a treat.”

And Tyson does. Without question or complaint, he’s just fine sitting next to you, sitting pretty.

He’s always been the perfect teammate. Always willing to do whatever it takes, regardless of the role. The only difference is he no longer wants his anxiety to be the sole motivator behind said selflessness.

Finally ready to play fearless.

JT helps you down; Tyson hops up.

Immediately, your attention fractures. Split between messy brown curls and lust-blown pupils and your own disheveled appearance: smudged makeup, knotted hair, mauled neck, and spit-stained, bruised lips. Thank fuck you’re graduated and gone. Otherwise, you’d never live this down—Kate might treat you to a taste of would-be campus humiliation later if she’s feeling particularly charitable, though.

Your boyfriend’s grip is heavy on your hips. Happy to have you back. You feel one hand coast over your lower back and down to grope your ass as if trying to keep you in the palm of his hand. White-knuckle hold withstanding, JT presses his chest flush to your backside and uses his free hand to yank every remaining hindrance to your navel.

He wants you on display.

Your gasp is rivaled only by Tyson’s pitiful whimper and twitching, touch-happy fingers.

The ginger’s chuckle is molten and deep, mouth barely a breath from your ear, his eyes pinning Tyson still.

Your mind rewound back to when he made this proposition, wondering how the hell you got from there to here.

“Bend over, sweetheart. Arch that back nice and pretty so we can show Josty what a good girl he’s been missing out on—what a filthy thing you’ve turned into.”

As soon as you’ve done just that, your boyfriend drives home. It’s fast and dirty; primal. He knows there’s no need, but JT marks his territory anyway.

You watch Josty’s mouth part like he’s about to ask you something. Staring through his eyes as if ducking into his pesky daydreams and up-too-late musings, all specifics watery and indistinct.

Ultimately, you wind up disappointed by silence. But, with the slow return of your boyfriend’s bare cock between your soft inner walls, it dawns on you; JT had used a condom last time. Even made Tyson retrieve it for him. The depth of your relationship is sinking in; that’s what you’re now watching. He’s mulling over the information, caught somewhere between wanting to swallow his guilt one go and choking on his own assumptions.

JT follows your charged concern, performs a similar triage, and then gives you a concise nod through the fogged-up mirror.

I’ll handle it.

At that, your walls noticeably ease, and he shudders, groaning as even more of him sinks deeper to occupy the newfound space. He gets a few strokes out before Josty slots his body between your palms to lean in. Here, he does something that collapses the simple but effective status quo. 

“Fuck, kid. K-Keep doing that.”

Keep rubbing your clit.

Keep playing with you.

Keep being an accessory to his pleasure. To yours.

Be present.

Be here.

“Such a fucking mess, baby. Don’t know how Compher gets anything done with you there, sweet and ripe for the taking.”

The two halves of Tyson’s demeanor are antithetical, and infuriatingly so, a saccharine smile split open by filth. It paints a sordid picture that must stand for itself, as you find it impossible to pluck out of thin air any coherent thoughts.

Be that as it may, your friend did not set out for a reply. At least not one other than the befuddled stuttering you’re doing.

A familiar palm shoots to your raw neck—tender, inside and out—lightning quick. You're yanked up before you can blink. JT mercilessly nips at the gaps in between his tight grip, hips pushed just as firm against the swell of your backside.

Still, he furthers their madcap banter. “I dunno either, Josty. And, believe me, the little vixen sure as hell doesn’t make it any easier. Sometimes I think she’s tryna milk me dry for good.”

If Tyson Jost were ever going to cream his pants—post-pubescence, it would be now.

Like, right fucking now.

The proclamation of your third orgasm is wondrous. Proud. Grateful. One of your hands flies back to catch the nape of JT’s neck to steady yourself as he continues pistoning in and out of you. Tyson's generous touch stays, too.

Your back arches this go around, head rolling against your boyfriend's shoulder before slipping back down towards the counter, free palm absorbing the impact of the abrupt sway. Too much, too much—it’s all too much for your tender muscles and soupy brain to handle. You surrender to the plethora of sensations, each more overwhelming than the last—half-collapsed back against into your boyfriend, half-crumbled forward into his best friend’s damp, tented lap.

“Not gonna last, sweetheart—y’feel too damn good, s’tight and warm, always strangling my cock—know you’re close, too. Gonna give me what you promised, Compher? Please, pretty girl—need to feel your perfect pussy squeezin’ me dry.”

It's refractory; your world goes from washed-out to vivid and back, over and over, as though impatiently flipping between channels.

You’re a tangle of sticky limbs and physical reverie, blanketed by a warm afterglow and cleared air. Body scaffolded by muscular forms on either side, your mind gives your body permission to slacken at last. JT’s arm winds around your midsection when it becomes clear the all-consuming exhaustion is giving way to the relaxation that eluded you for so many months. Tyson massages your arms, your hands still cemented to his knees. Your head drops to his shoulder, too heavy for your bruised neck.

For a long while, no one says a thing. Not intentionally or for fear of disturbing the peace; there’s simply no need. No words exist to shoulder that much weight, none able to capture precisely what emotions swirl between you. Silence says enough—silence says it all.

Banging cuts through your sex-drunk stupor. Again. The abrupt sounds function like metaphorical smelling salts, restoring consciousness and rousing decorum laid dormant. Your mutual, unadulterated bliss circles the drain in the absence of a psychological plug, ripped free, half-baked.

JT reluctantly leaves you empty and dripping, tucks himself away, and cracks open the door—only as wide as is necessary. Behind his imposing physique, you remain hunched over Tyson, waiting for your boyfriend to make the problem go away; you’re too tired to take any initiative.

Golden hair and familiar grey-blue eyes fill the gap, shining in your periphery. Barely a sliver, that’s how much of this your boyfriend’s willing to share with the world. You like that, and judging by his lopsided grin, so does Tyson.

“Paging Mrs. Compher!” Gabe hollers over JT’s head. “Clean up on aisle ‘Kate.’”

Just hearing her name puts you back in action. Damn you, maternal instincts.

You scramble to right twisted fabric and smeared makeup to a soundtrack of expletives. It’s pointless, though, because nothing settles how it should. No amount of smoothing, brushing, or tucking seems to help. Hazy vision and the legs of a newborn fawn don’t exactly lend themselves to effective primping.

And it’s not like you’ve got a hickey-remover magic wand stashed in your purse, either. 

Accept your fate, you acquiesce with a sigh.

Tyson does a piss-poor job muffling his laughter, which lands him a crisp swat to the chest.

As you stumble over, you catch the end of your boyfriend’s irritation. “—and you’re sure there isn’t anyone else to hold her hair back? Why can’t you do it?”

The gears in Gabe’s skull clank so loud you can hear them over the audible chaos seeping into your haven—he’s intoxicated, not stupid.

“CupKate wants her mommy.” The blonde winks at you over JT’s shoulder. His tongue gives a knowing click of approval at Tyson’s equally disheveled state. “And what do you care, Compher? Smells like you three already made your express trip to Pound-town, USA. How was it? I hear the weather’s hot and steamy this time of year.”

“Real mature, Landy, real mature,” JT scoffs.

The sound just revs him up. “Says the fucker who’s locked in a frat house bathroom with his girlfriend and his best friend. One of whom, might I add, looks like they got mauled by a hormonal freshman after a high school dance.”

“Can you two go measure your dicks, I don’t know, anywhere but in the way? I have a child to tend to.” 

You almost have to laugh. At the situation and at the words coming out of your mouth. At Kate, sick to her stomach like a kid who ate too many sweets on a holiday. 

Years have passed, but you’re all still the same.

“Me-yeoh!” Gabe sing-songs while miming what you assume are claws scratching at nothing.

Again, his drink is the sole casualty of his jubilation. A golden wave sloshes over the rim and onto the floor. The spray makes JT’s jaw tick.

The former winger offers a sheepish grin in repentance. “Whoops?”

Your boyfriend steals a glance to check that you’re decent, then side-steps out of your way with an exasperated sigh. His dilated gaze flits over your ruffled appearance, shamelessly drinking in the state of your throat but tripping over the questions dancing in your eyes.

He juts his head in Landy’s direction with a sardonic eye-roll. “Go on. Save your damsel, Mother Hen. I’ll fill you in on in the Uber back to the hotel.”

“Meet you out front?” You ask, and he nods.

You dart back to Tyson, plant a chaste peck on his flushed cheek, and then repeat the gesture with JT and his peeved lips. It’s faint, but they instantly soften for you.

Before they know it, you’re slipping out the door. Gabe gets an affectionate pat on the shoulder as you squeeze by him before you disappear in the direction of the Girls Only bathroom; no significant differences, only marginally cleaner and occasionally stocked with helpful accouterment—chivalry isn’t dead!

Lingering in the wake of your departure, Gabe sways like an inflatable man on the curb of a car dealership. A smirk twists his lips. “Nicely done, boys. Nicely done. Can’t say I thought we’d see the day—or that either of you had it in ya—but I feel like a proud father.” He wipes a phantom tear, the final straw. “Makes you wish you listened to Daddy Landy sooner, huh? Think of all the lost ti—”

JT slams the door in his face. Through the wood, Gabe cackles.

The two men slip back into sync as they wordlessly scrape themselves back together with the time and privacy you were not afforded. 

As JT yanks his jeans back into place, his belt clanking around like a bell’s hourly chime, a black velvet box tumbles to the floor, and Tyson’s stomach along with it.

The air shouldn’t, but it turns on a dime. Their progress is seemingly more fragile than expected.

“If—uh, wow.” A crunchy, anxious bark of a laugh cuts his thought in half.

JT doesn’t interrupt; he holds space for the blossoming discomfort.

Tyson rubs the tense knots along the back of his neck as his eyes drill into the floor. “If I’d known this would be our swan song, I would’ve tried to enjoy it more. I don’t know—savored it, I guess?”

“This,” JT says, scooping up the dud he hopes isn’t hanging fire. “— is what I wanted to talk to you about earlier.”

Before they got into it in the garage, before they’d been forcibly separated by Erik and Nate. Before they, punch-drunk and drunk-drunk, teetered between tears and anger in the shadowy, too-quiet backyard.

They spun in circles until they had nowhere to move but on. To make amends, to stumble through chary half-apologies that mean more than they say.

JT’s alleviation was short-lived; his calm trepidation squashed before it could fly. Tyson now understands why.

Tyson balks. “Me?”

Your boyfriend sighs through his nose, pinching the bridge. He’s bidding time. Digging for the right words but knowing there are none.

“I love her—and I know you do, too. I’m not upset; she makes it hard not to fall for her.”

Tyson’s head hangs lower, chagrined.

JT continues, “I’m going to ask her to marry me, but I didn’t want to do it without talking to you. Without making sure you’d be okay. Eventually. The last thing I wanted was for you to be blindsided or to feel even more left out.”

Tyson can’t help but snort at the sheer absurdity. “Left out… God, how pathetic am I? Getting all butt-hurt over a relationship that isn’t even mine.”

“Pathetic was going AWOL.”

Josty winces. He doesn’t argue because he has zero ground to stand on.

“But feeling something? Far from it.”

“I didn't—don’t want to take her from you. You have to know that, Compher.” The hurt’s been hammered from his voice. Left behind is softened sincerity.

JT’s smile is just as downy. “I do, and you’d be wasting time by trying.”

Josty chokes on an unforeseen bubble of laughter.

You love JT Compher so openly and ardently it might as well be a neon sign plastered to your forehead. He’s always been it for you. There’s never been any competition, Tyson Jost included.

“Thank god we got this ironed out before the wedding,” the older forward chuckles as he leans back against the counter.

They’re side-by-side, as they should be.

“Why’s that?”

JT digs into his other pocket and pushes something into the palm of his best friend, whose cheeks flame tout de suite in response. With a bump of his shoulder, your boyfriend tacks on, “Something to remember tonight by.”

Tyson shoves the memento into his own pocket, then raises a quizzical brow.

Your boyfriend grins.

“The best man pining over the bride while giving the groom the cold shoulder would make for an awkward wedding, don’t you think?”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 @holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[leafs-lover]

Who should I write about? Atlantic Battle

I've had this idea in my head for weeks now, and I just can't get it out of my head, so I'm going to write it :)

That said, I am wildly impartial to who the player is and have decided to leave that up to you! There are some requirements for the player in order to make the story work, so unfortunately some players are not eligible for this.

This story is more smut than anything else, so the player isn't all that important to me. To make it easier to navigate, I am splitting the polls into each division, these polls will last one week. I will be taking the top 8 overall and making a poll with them. The winner of that poll is who I'll write about.

Pacific Poll // Metro Poll // Central Poll

Quick fic summary:

Reader insert. Reader and player grew up together but an unlikely friendship (he was a jock and she was a socially awkward band member)

Smut, smut, and even more smut! (I may mix in a sliver of plot, but its basically all smut)

Player will be readers teacher, coaching her on everything in the bedroom 🥵

Could have multiple parts but they will all be stand-alone pieces. May also be months between them (I long ago gave up the idea of committing to writing schedules)

Be sure to reblog to bring in more eyes!

[eightmakar]

nsfweekend!!!

hello hockey tumblr it’s been a hot minute so let’s have a smut weekend! starting today, March 17th and going until Sunday, March 19th!

the Rules:

18+ only, please!

reblog this post if you’d like to help get the word out :)

send me a prompt + a Man

or send me your latest smutty thoughts

or your headcanons

anything let’s be Sluts

i write smut for:

cale makar

nathan mackinnon

mikko rantanen

erik johnson

artturi lehkonen

jt compher

tyson jost

ryan graves

andre burakovsky

prompt lists:

smut prompts

inexperienced smut prompts

sexy situations

sexy chirps

happy slutting!

tagging people:

@taking-shots @hockeylvr59 @harlowhockeystick @flashyfucker @jostystyles @jostyriggslover96 @burkymakar @fallinallincurls @cale8makar @jamiedryssdale @equallyshaw @capsvsducks @hockstuff @matbaerzal @mikkorantanev @holy-pucks @graves-makar @corneliaskates

[withwritersblock]

Say, Isn't it Strange pt. 1

~Strange by Celeste~

Part 2

Author's note: I've always wanted to write something to this song :) It's just so beautiful. Warnings: Swearing, implied smut, :) Word Count: 8,136 Cale Makar x fm!reader | Tyson Jost x fm!reader

 Say, Isn’t it strange?

January 26, 2022

It was well past midnight when the group of hockey players entered the bar. It wasn’t just a handful of players, it was the entire roster. Each player was wearing their formal attire they wore before games as they loudly made their way throughout the bar. Sydney beside her stood up from her seat in the booth table they were sitting at. She walked towards JT, who had a wide smile on his lips once he saw her. She followed towards the bartop, gladly to get another drink.

Y/N stayed in her spot still nursing the cocktail in front of her. Her fingertips grazed the glass as she observed the crowd of professional hockey players waiting for their drinks. Being Sydney’s best friend came with a lot of wives and girlfriends rituals; despite not being involved with any of the players on the team. She was still invited to the suit and to the pre and post game events. Sydney always dragged her along, which could be exhausting when everyone is happily in love around her.

Sydney and JT saunter over to the booth together with Cale and Tyson close behind. She’s hung out a lot with Tyson as he and JT are best friends. Sydney even tried setting the pair up but they lacked the romantic chemistry. Which makes them great friends instead. Cale was someone who she hadn’t had any conversations with despite him being a part of the team for a few years now. Cale was always quiet, keeping his train of thought to himself.

Which is why it surprised her to see him with JT and Tyson and willing to socialize. Y/N looked up towards the four of them squeezing into the four person booth that Y/N was already sitting in. Cale pulled a chair from another table, realizing it wasn’t going to work very quickly. Tyson squeezed closely beside Y/N and fist bumped her before engaging in conversation with the boys again.

Y/N took another long sip of her drink while keeping her head low, “What’s wrong?” JT asked Y/N, interrupting a joke Tyson was saying. She blinked a few times before meeting his gaze, she nodded.

“Yeah, just thinking about how I’m out drinking on a Wednesday when I have to teach a bunch of teenagers tomorrow at eight in the morning,” she said while smirking. JT chuckled, “Maybe we’ll have a movie day,” she let out while raising her glass and taking a long sip.

“Caler, Y/N here teaches high school English,” Tyson said while slapping his hand against Cale’s arm. “Can you imagine having someone that hot as your teacher?” he asked while huffing out a breath of air. Cale raised his eyebrows while nodding, his cheeks flushing in the process. 

Y/N smacked him against his arm, “Will you stop,” she muttered before drinking the rest of her drink. “Move it,” she shoved him slightly as she needed to get out of the booth for another drink. Tyson chuckled as he stood up from the booth, keeping his beer in his hand. Cale stood up from his chair, already finished with the beer that was on the table.

“I’ll join ya,” he mumbled, following behind her towards the bartop. They reach the bartop that has slowly dissipated as the players dispersed into their usual groups. The bartender was talking on the phone while writing on a small notepad. She smiled towards him as she tapped her fingers against the top of the bar.

“I’m Y/N, I don’t think we’ve ever actually spoken before,” she let out while tilting her body to face him. He smirked as he leaned his body against his elbow on the counter.

“Cale,” he mumbled with a smile. “How long have you and Josty been together?” he asked, striking up a conversation. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She shook her head. 

“Josty? Yeah, no we’re not together,” she explained.

Looking towards her suspiciously, he asked, “I just thought that him calling you hot so casually meant you guys were together.” he chuckled before continuing, “-And the fact that you guys are always together.”

She sighed, “We tried dating, but there was no-” she lingered as she tilted her head back and forth deciding the right word, “There was no chemistry,” she trailed off as she looked into his blue eyes. He let out a sudden laugh while leaning forward.

Isn’t it strange?

I am still me

You are still you

She sat at her desk sifting through papers as her students started piling into the classroom. Her first period was always the most talkative of the day. She never complained as it was always a good way to wake up in the morning.

“Did you watch the Avs last night?” her student, Logan, asked her other student, Harry. They both walked into the room and sat down in their assigned seats beside each other. 

“It was insane,” Harry replied while shaking his head, “Yo Ms. Y/L/N, did you watch it?” Harry asked Y/N. She lifted her head from her desk and smiled towards the boys before looking back down at the graded essays in her hand. She was there with Sydney in one of the suites watching the game.

“I was actually at the game last night,” she said while pulling out their essays. She stood up from the desk and walked towards the pair. Their eyes widened as they stared towards her.

“No way, you’re lying,” Logan said while leaning back into his chair tapping his pencil on the desk. She dropped the essays on their desk, shifting her gaze towards the large friend group walking into her class. It was nice to see that the majority of her class was friends, which made her life a lot easier. “Trey, Ms. Y/L/N was at the game last night.”

“Shut up, seriously!” Trey replied as he sat in his corner seat by himself. 

Y/N chuckled while she walked towards her desk to take the stack of essays and walked around the classroom dropping the papers face down on all of their desks. “I’m allowed to do things other than be a teacher, you know,” she let out while laughing.

“So you saw Cale Makar’s goal in person?” Noah asked as he took a hold of his paper, glancing at it before he dropped it back on his desk. 

Y/N tried to stop the chuckle rising in her throat as she recalled her events of the night before. Said famous Cale Makar and herself talking all night like they’ve been friends for years. Or the fact that JT Compher drove her home from the bar. It was a fun secret.

“I did,” she mumbled as she walked back towards her desk, glancing at her watch.

“Did you take pictures? Can I see?” Logan asked, standing up from her desk. Y/N turned around furrowing her eyebrows while shaking her head. A laugh leaving her lips. She did take pictures, many of which were with the wives and girlfriends of the players. As well as with the players themselves. Tyson stole her phone and took many pictures together. She had yet to delete the hundred he took. 

“Logan, sit down,” she said while laughing. 

“Come on, Ms. Y/L/N, Makar is the best player in the league right now,” Logan begged at the foot of her desk. 

The bell to signal that class was about to start rang as the last few of her students walked into the classroom. Slightly out of breath.

Lifting her head, she met the gaze of the boy and shook her head, “Sit and maybe I’ll show you in a bit,” she said while laughing. The memory of Cale and how he bought her many drinks last night; for the amount of times they had hung out without actually speaking.

Logan groaned before he walked back to his seat. The final bell rang as he sat down.

“Good morning, I’ve returned your essays with very detailed suggestions on things to change and edit. Please spend this period working on changing the things you need to change. Once you’ve finished doing that, print them out and turn them into me by class on Monday.” she explained, shifting her gaze towards the students who all had eyes on their papers. “What movie do you guys want to watch in the background?” Y/N asked as the projector was slowly starting to turn on. Many eyes widened at the mention of a movie.

In the same place

February 11, 2022

She leaned back on the couch, leaving the essays on the coffee table. The words were starting to blend together as she has been grading for the last three hours. 

Suddenly, her phone started ringing beside her, Sydney was calling her. She smiled softly before pulling the phone against her ear. “Syd,” she said simply. 

“Y/N! It is Friday night and you are alone in your apartment,” Sydney said, slurring her words slightly. It was past ten at night. Y/N chuckled while shutting her eyes.

“Yes, very lonely. What can I do for you?” she sarcastically asked Sydney while running her hand across her forehead. Her eyes danced around her apartment, it was dark beside the small lap beside her. She shook her hand and clenched it and unclenched it multiple times. 

“Come to Josty’s,” she begged. 

“I promised my kids their grades would be submitted by Sunday. I’ve got like forty papers left.”

“Booo, come over, we’ll order that nasty pizza you like too,” she continued to beg. Y/N took a deep breath in before standing up from the couch and wandering towards her room to get ready.

“Fine, give me like an hour,” she mumbled while she hung up the phone. Tyson lived in the same apartment building as she did.

She walked into her bedroom staring at the mess. Her job has kept her busy over the course of the few days. It was nearly impossible to get her life back together. She walked towards her closet and pulled out a pair of light wash jeans and a black t-shirt. 

She quickly changed before she walked towards her vanity. It didn’t take long to freshen up her appearance. A simple makeup look that turned into a full face of makeup without realizing it. She sighed while adjusting her hair before standing up from her vanity chair. 

The walk towards Tyson’s apartment was quick as it was only two floors below hers. 

Without announcing herself, she walked into the apartment. Expecting to see Tyson, JT, and Sydney only. But to her surprise it was full of the team. She could only assume they were celebrating something but her mind was drawing a blank. Her eyes widened as she looked at all of their faces, each of them greeting her as she walked through the apartment. Sydney’s eyes widened as she walked towards Y/N. 

“Y/L/N!” Tyson shouted from the kitchen area. He had his armed wrapped around a blonde girl who she’s met a few times. Her name drawing a blank on her mind. She gave them a small wave while walking deeper into the apartment.

“Sydney, I thought it was just going to be a few people,” Y/N said while walking towards Sydney and JT. She stared towards her while shaking her head. Y/N sighed while mentally preparing to socalize. A task she was not hoping to do tonight.

“Oh it’s fun, enjoy yourself,” Sydney said while hugging her before following JT. Leaving Y/N alone in the center of the party. A sigh left her lips.

Her eyes scanned the living room, seeing the wives and girlfriends hanging around their players while they were all talking to each other laughing. It was surprising to see each player in the apartment, there were always a handful that avoided any team building. Tyson was leaning against the countertop talking with Logan and Kendra. She watched him loudly laugh at something Logan said.

Her eyes landed on Cale who was sitting alone while scrolling on his phone. A plain white t-shirt and black shorts covering his body. 

Isn’t it strange

How people can change

He was one of a few people who didn’t bring a date to the party. Without someone by his side, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Pretty much how Y/N feels all of the time as she’s just friends with JT and Tyson. It was always awkward to explain why she was invited to some of the events as she was always deemed to be an outsider.

She walked towards him and sat down beside him on the small loveseat. He lifted his gaze and smiled towards her as he dropped his phone in his lap. She leaned her head back against the loveseat while looking towards him. “Not having fun?” he asked.

Shrugging, “I just got here, didn’t realize it was a team thing,” she mumbled while she looked into his soft eyes. He nodded, his gaze searching her features. Taking note of the makeup to her features. 

“I’m surprised everyone came. Normally when Josty’s hosting it’s just OC, JT, Newy, and I that show up.” he said, a small chuckle leaving his throat. His cheeks shaded to red. “He buys the cheap stuff, that’s why,” he mumbled as he leaned closer to her, showing her the budlight in his hand.  Y/N laughed while looking away from him. Her eyes admired the couples throughout the apartment.

Sydney and JT were standing against the wall, talking to each other as Alex and his girlfriend were talking to them. The four of them have gotten close as the season progressed.

Mikko and his girlfriend stood next to EJ and his girlfriend as they were laughing at something Mikko said. 

The rest of the apartment was full to the brim with couples excitedly chatting and being lovey-dovey with one another. She dropped her gaze to her lap.

It was hard not to feel a pit of jealousy as she surveyed the scene. “My students were raving about you the other day,” she mumbled, turning to face him. A shy smile formed to his lips as he dropped his head. 

“Oh yeah?” he let out. She nodded her head dramatically. 

“They were obsessed with your goal against the Bruins,” she explained. His face reddened at the statement while he pulled his lips between his teeth. “They were even more shocked to find out I was there to witness Cale Makar in person,” she said with hand gestures, emphesising each word of his name. He laughed.

“I’m sure they'd be even more shocked to find out,” he paused for dramatic effect, “We’re sitting on the same couch,” he expressed, his tone laced with sarcasm. Their eyes remained connected as she shook her head while laughing. 

“I think their heads would implode at the sight,” she teased as she looked deeply into his blue eyes. He nervously turned his gaze towards his lap as he licked his lips. 

“So are a lot of your students Avs fans then?” he asked.

From strangers to friends

“So many, it’s hard to keep track. I’ve got this student, Logan, who’s committed to DU. I had them write this essay a few months back about their life goals. You know to get them used to writing in long form-that doesn’t matter.” she paused while pursing her lips forward, “He wrote about how he wants to play for the NHL and how you’ve been a big inspiration for him. He spent a whole page talking about how he tries to be like you,” she explained. 

His eyes softened the more as she spoke, hearing her talk about him. He could tell the passion she had towards teaching and the students she had in her classes. 

“Give me your phone,” he said, holding out his hand. Her eyes furrowed as she stared towards him suspiciously. 

He smirked as he ushered his hand towards her. She turned her phone on and handed it to him. “I want you to call me when you’re at school so the guys and I can talk to him.” he suggested as he began typing his information into her phone. 

He opened her camera and took a quick selfie and made it his contact photo on her phone. Her eyebrows furrowed as a smirk crept on her lips. “In case you forget what I look like,” he mumbled as he handed her phone back to her. Rolling her eyes, she texted him a quick message so he could have her number.

“Like I could forget, your face is all over Denver right now,” she mumbled. He dropped his gaze to his lap, shyly.

“I wish it wasn’t,” he defended, chuckling softly.

“You’d actually speak to Logan?” she asked. He nodded while bringing his beer to his lips. “That’s amazing,” she mumbled as she reached over to him and gave him a quick hug. Standing up from her seat. She pointed towards the kitchen as she started walking towards it.

He stood up and quickly followed her towards the kitchen. They squeezed through the collection of players. “Y/N, you remember Ila?” Tyson said as he pointed towards the blonde that was hooked to his side. Y/N nodded towards her before she walked towards the fridge. Cale followed behind her.

“Want another one?” she asked, holding out the Budlight bottle. He held his hand out and she gladly handed it towards him. She pulled out a White Claw and opened it while shutting the fridge door behind her. She smiled towards Cale. 

He popped open the drink before he took a long sip before he leaned against the counter waiting for her. His eyes scanned her frame before she walked towards him. His eyes met her eyes before he tilted his head towards Tyson, “Have you met that girl before?” Cale asked. Y/N looked towards Tyson and Ila curious how long it was going to last.

“She hung out with us a few times but she’s super quiet.” she explained as the pair approached the small group talking. 

“It’s starting to get hard to keep track of which girls which,” he mumbled before they approached them. Y/N stifled a laugh while fighting off a smile. 

“You look tired,” OC offered as Y/N approached, Kendra slapped his arm delicately. “What I meant to say-“ he gave Kendra a pointed look, “Josty was saying you were grading papers all day. He was begging for you to come hang out.”

Y/N glanced towards Tyson who was already looking towards her. Ila beside him was glaring towards him. “Yeah, I’m so tired of reading about the Great Gatsby in slightly different words,” she explained. 

“Why’d you assign it then?” Tyson asked teasingly. Y/N rolled her eyes before she sipped her White Claw. Her eyes meet Cale’s in the process. 

“If I could’ve assigned another book I would’ve,” she mumbled before she looked towards Ila who was glaring at Tyson still. “I’m going to go find a couch to sit on,” Y/N said as she raised her eyebrows. She delicately brushed past Cale. 

Cale smiled towards the small group before he followed Y/N like a lost puppy throughout the crowded party. Y/N turned around to see Cale behind her, a smile formed to her lips. They sat down on the loveseat together both sipping their drinks.

“Don’t think she likes me very much,” Y/N mumbled as she leaned towards Cale. He pressed his lips together as his cheeks pinked up.

~~~

The following Monday, she had texted Cale to make sure that he was available to talk to Logan. She glanced towards the clock, watching it hit the final minute before class ended. “Thank you guys for your hard work today, have a great rest of your day,” she said, a wide smile to her lips. Her eyes landed on Logan, a sad smile on his face as he was talking with his friend beside him. “Logan, can you hang back for a bit? I’ll write a note for your next period teacher,” she said as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

Logan's eyes widened as he nervously finished packing up his stuff. She stared at the text from Cale.

Ready :) 

She smiled at the message before the bell went off. “Bye!” she yelled as they all started leaving the classroom quickly. It was quickly just Logan in the room awkwardly waiting by her desk.

“I know I talked a lot today but-” 

“Logan, you’re not in trouble,” she let out with a chuckle, “Remember how you begged to see pictures of the Avs and Bruins game I went to, a few weeks ago?” she asked. He nodded nervously. 

“Yeah, but you never did,” he let out while laughing. 

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. He nodded slowly. She slowly pulled up her camera roll and started showing him some pictures of her hanging out with Sydney, Tyson, and JT. “Well for starters, my best friend is dating JT Compher-”

“Shut up,” he said excitedly as his eyes stared towards the screen.

“And I know how much you love this team and I wanted to introduce you to someone,” she explained as she pulled the phone away from his line of sight. She quickly switched over to her FaceTime app and called Cale. It only took a few seconds before he answered with a wide smile on his face. 

Logan’s eyes went wide as his shaky hand took a hold of the phone, “Hey Logan!” Cale said into the phone. 

“What’s up man?” OC said into the phone, peeking his head into view. Y/N smiled softly to herself as she started tuning out the conversation. Letting Logan enjoy the moment. She lifted her gaze as she watched Logan smile widely as he spoke to the guys. 

It had been a few minutes of them talking and Logan was still excitedly pacing the empty classroom. Since Y/N had a planning period for her second period. “We want you to come to the game tomorrow against Dallas,” Cale said as he held up five tickets, enough tickets for him and his family. 

“Wait really?” he mumbled. 

“Yeah, we’ll have these tickets at the front box office for you. We’ve got to get to practice, but I’m glad we got to talk to you,” Cale said over the phone.

“Th-thank you so much,” he mumbled as they hung up the phone. Logan walked towards the desk, delicately placing the phone on her desk. “Ms. Y/L/N, you are now my favorite person ever,” he said as he leaned down and hugged her. She smiled towards him.

“I thought you could use that,” she said as she leaned back into the chair.

“You know there’s no way I’m keeping this a secret, right?” He said, eyes wide. She chuckled while rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, sorta figured,” she mumbled while she started writing him a late pass. She handed it towards him, “Now get to your next class,” she handed him the note.

“Thank you so much,” he said as he jogged out of the classroom. She smiled to herself as she turned her gaze towards her computer screen.

March 15, 2022

Tyson never called during school hours, she stared at his incoming call on her watch and ignored it. She stood at the podium, taking notes on the Kahoot! game her students were playing. He called her again. Something was wrong. 

“You guys keep playing, I’ll be right back,” she mumbled as she dropped her gaze towards her watch. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she brought it to her ears. “I’ve got a class right now-” she started as she left the classroom, delicately shutting the door behind her. 

“I’ve been traded, Y/N,” Tyson said, teary eyed.

“What? Where?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat.

“Minnesota, I’m waiting to catch a flight,” he took a deep breath. 

She stared at the white tiled floor, trying to fully grasp everything he was saying. Sydney was her best friend but she was always with JT. Which left her to hang out with Tyson, he was also her best friend. She couldn’t imagine life without him. 

“Ty, I’ll miss you so much,” she mumbled into the phone, keeping her teary eyes at bay. There were a handful of voices on his end of the phone.

“I’ll miss you too but-uh- I gotta go, I’ll call you once I’m settled,” he explained before hanging up. She slowly dropped her phone from her and placed it into her pocket. She blinked away a few tears from her eyes. She brushed her hair away from her face as she cleared her throat.

Returning to her class, sitting and talking quietly. There were still five questions left on the Kahoot! game. Logan never told anyone about the little secret she shared with him, despite wanting to brag that he spoke to many Avs players. And brag about how amazing Ms. Y/L/N was for setting it up.

“Alright, who’s winning?” Y/N asked, keeping her gaze on the projector, sniffling. “Nice job Nikki,” she mumbled as she returned to the podium, keeping her gaze on her laptop, avoiding the eyes of the many Avalanche fans in the classroom.

“Dude, no way,” Noah mumbled, staring at his phone, “Tyson Jost just got traded.” 

Y/N clammed up, not entirely shocked that the news already broke. She clenched her jaw while blinking rapidly. “Who even is this guy?” Noah continued as he looked through the details of the trade.

“Josty is so much better than him,” Trey mumbled while staring at Noah’s phone. 

“Boys, talk about it after class please?” Y/N asked as she finally lifted her gaze to give Noah and Trey a look. They shuffled in their seats, Noah dropping his phone into his hoodie pocket. Logan lifted his gaze from his computer to look towards Y/N and nodded his head.

“This is the first move that Sakic has done that’s awful,” Trey spoke out. 

“She said after class, dude,” Logan interjected. Trey looked towards him confused. 

A couple of hours later, she was still in her classroom. She was grading a few extra credit assignments. Her phone began to ring again with Cale calling her. She answered the phone and put it on speaker. “Hey, how are you doing?” Cale asked. She took a sharp breath. 

It was starting to be normal for the two of them to talk on the phone or text constantly. They’ve even started hanging out more one on one as the weeks progressed. It was a crazy few weeks with the majority of the games being away games. Cale always made time for the two of them to talk.

“Not great, I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she mumbled as she continued adding grades to the online gradebook. Each student got a random 100% on an assignment they didn’t realize was one. 

“Didn’t expect him to go,” Cale said into the phone.

“What time do you guys play?” She asked, wanted to change the subject. He took a sharp breath.

“I think it’s six back in Colorado. You watching?”

“Yeah, heading to Syd’s to watch it. I’m actually supposed to be there now,” she said with a chuckle. She began to type the last of the grades into the grade book faster. 

“You’ve got a couple hours,” he mumbled. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the arena by now?” She questioned shutting her laptop. 

“Walking in now, smile at the camera,” he mumbled, his cheeks pinking up as he walked past the camera girl sitting on the floor. Y/N rolled her eyes as she shoved her computer into her pocket. 

“You’re an ass,” Y/N teased as she stood up shoving different items into her backpack.

“I try,” he shot back, there were a few muffled voices on his end of the phone. “I’ve got to get ready, but I’ll call you after the game?”

“I’ll be waiting,” she said with a smile. He rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. He dropped his phone into his suit as he brought his coffee to his lips.

“Who was that?” Nate asked Cale as they met up at the doors before the locker room. 

Cale ran a hand along his mouth, covering his smile. “Y/N,” he said, avoiding Nate’s gaze.

“How’s she doing with Josty?” Nate asked, ignoring the obvious smile to Cale’s lips.

“She wanted to say goodbye but she didn’t get the chance.” Cale explained as he wandered to his stall. 

“You planning on comforting her?” Nate asked teasingly. Cale threw a small towel at him. Nate dodged it with a chuckle. “I’m just saying-“

“You’re just saying nothing,” Cale interrupted before wandering away from his stall.

~~~

March 18, 2022

Y/N has called off work the past few days in order to help Tyson pack up his apartment for him since he was gone. They were sitting in the kitchen putting different pots and pans into boxes. 

“He doesn’t even cook, what does he need all this shit for?” Sydney joked as she placed bubble wrap inside one of the boxes. Y/N laughed while rolling her eyes.

“Maybe he’ll start,” Y/N shrugged as she continued placing all of the silverware into a small container. “I hate that his living in a hotel,”

“I’m sure he loves it, all the room service he can get,” Sydney joked, lightening the mood. Y/N smiled politely as she taped up one of the boxes. “You know, the boys come home tonight,” she started off but trailed off letting the music play around them.

“Yeah, Cale’s coming over tomorrow,” Y/N said nonchalantly as Sydney’s eyes widened but quickly she turned her gaze back towards the cabinet behind her.

“Is he now?” she countered.

“Yeah, we’ve been talking a lot and he’s come over a few times,” Y/N explained, a small smile to her lips. 

“Are you officially a part of the club?” Sydney asked excitedly.

“We’re just friends,” Y/N said as she took a hold of the box and carried it towards the living room. The kitchen was finally all packed up.

“I hate when you say that,” Sydney said with a dramatic eye roll. They began walking towards his living room to pack up the books and a few of the decorations he had around the area. 

“You hate it because it’s always true,” Y/N said as she pointed her finger towards it. She rolled her eyes again.

“Not always, you and Tyson weren’t ‘just friends’ for a while,”

“We’re better off as friends,” Y/N said, and she meant it. She loved Tyson, platonically. Throwing romance into something that worked so well as a friendship was so detrimental. It was too hard to try to make something romantic when there was nothing there to make romantic. 

Sure, they could kiss and everything would feel great but anything more than a peck on the lips felt forced. It wasn’t going to work, and they worked better as friends. A relationship that they were content with despite Sydney and JT’s constant protests for them to keep trying. You can’t keep trying something that will always fail, Tyson and Y/N would’ve ended up getting hurt and never would’ve still been friends. 

Cale, on the other hand, he was different. She smiled any time he would show up on the screen during the games. She would cheer extra loud if he scored. She found her cheeks heating up whenever he was talking. The sound of his voice gave her butterflies. But of course, she would never tell Sydney that. Since Sydney would tell JT and JT would tell OC and then it would get back to Cale instantly.

She couldn’t let that happen. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, she pulled it out to see Cale was calling her. His profile picture is the same tipsy selfie he took at Josty’s party a few weeks back. A small smile formed to her lips as she admired the pink cheeks and the squint in his eyes. 

She pulled the phone to her ear as she wandered towards Tyson’s packed up bedroom, for some privacy. “Hey,” she mumbled.

“How are you feeling?” his voice rasped as he spoke, evident that he just woke up fom a nap. She liked hearing his voice like that, it was different. She smiled to herself, her mood instantly lifted.

“I’m doing better today, Josty’s place is officially almost done. I’m also happy that you guys will be home finally,” she explained, running her fingers through her hair.

“Yeah?” he asked, a smile evident to his lips. “I’m glad you're doing better,” he mumbled.

She was quiet for a moment, listening to the quiet ruffling sounds on his end of the phone. She liked hearing his voice everyday. Hearing him talk to her was like a breath of fresh air. It made her mind clear and her body relaxed. 

“Hearing your voice helps,” she let out, her mouth dropped open and clamped shut at the sudden words leaving her lips. “Oh my god,” she mouthed as she pulled the phone away from her ear. 

“Really?” he questioned, his cheeks pinking up. She stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating what to say. 

“Yeah,” was all she could muster up after the complete and utter embarrassment coursed through her veins.

“Why do you think I call you before my games?” he asked, forming a wide smile to her features. She pursed her lips forward as she tried to suppress the giddy smile to her lips.

“Well, I’m glad I can help,” she spoke teasingly. He chuckled.

~~~

April 13, 2022

March flew by. Every day that Cale was in Denver he spent it with the team and Y/N. The team barely having days without one another, which meant the wives and girlfriends, and Y/N were dragged along. Y/N never complained, any excuse to be with Cale, she would take. 

The games were great, only two losses during that whole stretch. They were elated but filled with so much drive and determination. All they ever spoke about was hockey, but it was nearing the end of the regular season, so Y/N never minded the constant talk of hockey.

Now there are eight games left of the regular season. Tonight solidified that they were favored for the cup. A 9-3 win against the Kings where Cale had four points. It was one of the best games she has ever seen them play.

She stood beside Sydney, waiting for JT and Cale to emerge from the locker room. It was filled with voices of the players leaving, excited to see their loved ones after a huge win. Cale and JT walked out at the same time with wide smiles on their faces. Cale took fast steps towards Y/N engulfing her in a hug. 

“Wow,” she mumbled against his chest, he chuckled before he pulled away.

“I’m so glad you were here,” he mumbled with a wide smile. She looked into his blue eyes, they were so bright. She kept her hand on his chest running her fingers along it before she hugged him one more time.

“It was incredible,” she mumbled against his chest. He tightened his grip around the center of her back, pulling her tighter. 

“You’re never allowed to miss another game, we can’t lose with you in the building,” he whispered.

“Caler! Are you going to EJ’s?” Bo shouted from down the hallway. Y/N pulled away from him and looked back towards the small crowd of players with their partners. 

Cale rested his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes, “You up for it?” he asked. She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll meet ya there,” he shouted back. He looked back towards her, fighting the grin to his lips. 

“What?” she asked innocently. He shook his head as he let go of her.

“Did you drive or ride with Syd?” he asked as he started walking backwards, she followed him. 

“Syd drove me,” she mumbled.

“Good,” he mumbled, pulling her arm delicately so she could follow him faster, “C’mon, I’ve got to go home and change.” 

“Cale, what are you doing?” she asked laughing.

“EJ has a hot tub and we are using it. We have to get there before everyone hogs it,” he explained as they continued down the path towards the parking garage.

“I don’t have my swimsuit with me,” she countered. He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. 

“Do you really need one? I mean it’s the same as-”

“It is not the same thing!” she said with a gasp leaving her lips, she delicately shoved him away. He chuckled.

“We can stop at your place to get one,” he smiled sweetly before they continued to his car that was only a couple feet away. 

“What if I don’t want to go in?”

“Who doesn’t want to go into a hot tub?”

“It is freezing outside, Cale,” she said, wide eyed. 

“It’s the perfect hot tub weather,”

“You’re awful,”

“I try,”

~~~

Cale was right, she didn’t want to admit it but it was the perfect weather for a hot tub. The air was freezing but the heat from the hot tub created a beautiful misty fog that hovered above them creating a false sense of warm air. 

Alex and his girlfriend, Bo and Kailey were also in the hot tub with them. Each pair in their own little world.

“Don’t make me say it,” he mumbles as he watches her tilt her head back and take a deep breath. Her hands created little waves in front of her. She tilted her gaze towards Cale and fought off a smirk, “Told you so,” he whispered towards her ear. She rolled her eyes as she leaned towards him.

“What are we going to do when we get out, huh?” she shook her head slightly, “It is thirty degrees,” she mumbled teasingly.

“We’ll figure it out,” he teased looking deeply into her eyes. She dropped her gaze to his lips for a brief moment before she looked back into his eyes.

She wanted to kiss him. She’s wanted to for weeks. After every home win, he’d hug her so tight and look at her in a way that made her think he wanted to too. He never tried anything and she didn’t either. It was too scary to think that her feelings, or whatever she was feeling, weren’t reciprocated.

The way he was looking at her right now. At this very moment it seemed like he wanted to. His eyes were looking into her own so deeply, it’s as if he was reading her thoughts.

Maybe it was because she swears he was leaning towards her and his gaze was now on her lips, or the fact that her own gaze was watching his. He was close, closer than he’s ever been. It wouldn’t take much to take a hold of his cheek and kiss him.

“If you want us to leave we can do that,” Bo teased, Y/N turned her gaze towards the blond man sitting across the hot tub from her with his arm around Kailey. He mimicked getting up out of the hot tub but he quickly sat back down. Cale dropped his gaze and pulled his lips in between his teeth, his cheeks and neck bright red.

“Looking pretty cozy over there,” Alex mumbled while raising his eyebrows. Cale rolled his eyes as he ran his wet hand over his dry hair. 

“You too,” Y/N said pointing a finger between Alex and Bo, striking a laugh between the small group in the hot tub. They moved away from each other as they were laughing hard. 

“We should all get home soon anyway, we’ve got a game tomorrow,” Cale mumbled as he stood up from the hot tub, starting to climb out. Y/N looked towards him, her smile faltering. Her lips left unkissed and her heart beating out of her chest. 

She watched him pull up his swim trunks, taking note of the muscles in his back tensing as he continued moving around. She reluctantly stood up and climbed out of the hot tub herself.

The cold air shocked her body as she reached for a towel on the table. Her teeth were shattering as the towel didn’t help much. “This is awful,” she mumbled, Cale laughed as he watched her jump up and down. 

“It’s not that bad,” he teased. 

“You are an athlete, I am not,” she said while jumping slightly. 

“What does that have to-” he asked laughing but she interrupted him with a death glare. He stifled a laugh as he delicately placed his hand on her lower back and guided her inside the house where it was warm and their clothes were.

~

It took another thirty minutes for them to say their goodbyes to everyone before they got into his car. He put his playlist on shuffle. They sat quietly as Cale drove out of the long driveway. 

“The hot tub was nice,” she mumbled as she turned and looked towards him. He nodded as he kept his gaze on the dark road in front of him. “I’m sure your body needed it,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her lap as she nervously spun the ring on her middle finger. 

“Definitely, especially on a back-to-back,” he mumbled, glancing towards her.

The drive back to her apartment only took ten minutes, he pulled into a parking spot in her parking garage as he looked her body up and down. She smiled shyly. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” she asked. His eyes lit up as he nodded his head almost instantly. She laughed as she quickly started to climb out of the car. He followed in pursuit, shoving his keys into his hoodie pocket.

He walked slowly as he watched her in front of him walk confidently towards the elevator several feet away. He admired everything about her from afar. The way her hair flowed as she walked. He watched her spin around and meet his gaze, her eyes softened as she smiled towards him.

“Caler, come on,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side.

“Y/N,” her name fell from his lips as he watched her stop in her tracks. She lifted her eyebrows as she pursed her lips forward. She hummed as she reluctantly walked towards him. He dropped his gaze to the floor as he cleared his throat. “You know I probably shouldn’t,” he let out. He clenched his jaw as he avoided her eyes. Her smile fell from her lips as she looked towards him. 

“Oh, okay,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“With the game tomorrow, I should probably go home and get some sleep,” he explained while avoiding her eyes. She nodded while biting her bottom lip nervously. 

“You could sleep here, you don’t have morning skate until nine,” she offered. He met her eyes, tilting his head to the side as he fought the smile forming to his lips.

“You live in a one bedroom apartment,” he countered. Her mouth fell open as she tried not to laugh. 

“You’re an ass,” she said as she shook her head.

“I try,” he mumbled before licking his lips as he followed her once more towards the elevator. “If I’m sluggish tomorrow, I blame you,” he said while pointing his finger towards her. 

“The Cale Makar? Sluggish? Never,” she teased. He bit his bottom lip as he took a hold of her arm and pulled her towards him. Forcing her to walk beside him. She laughed as they reached the elevator. She pushed the button as she turned her gaze towards him. He was already looking down towards her. “You know that didn’t take a lot of convincing,” 

“You’re hard to say no to,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand across his lips.

“And why is that?” she asked, smiling. He lifted his gaze, his mouth falling open. His cheeks started to pink up as he searched for the right words. He shrugged. “Come on,” she dragged the words out, “Tell me,” 

He stared towards her, the soft hum of the elevator being the only noise for a few moments. Her eyes scanned his pinked features as she took a step towards him. The elevator doors opened to her floor and the pair started to walk out, Y/N dropping the question as they walked past a few apartments before they reached hers. They stepped inside and it was immaculately clean. 

“Do you have any grading that needs to be done or anything?” he asked, wanting to change the subject away from him. She shook her head as she unzipped her jacket from her body and placed it onto the small barstool. Cale did the same thing. 

“They are currently working on a book report of their choosing, it’s a huge project that takes the majority of April to get it done. I kinda sit there and answer questions for multiple weeks on end. My least favorite assignment but I have to give it to them,” she explained. 

“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, I hated English class,” 

“Most people do,” she said with a chuckle, “My students don’t seem to hate it, especially since I can talk about sports with them. Oh and the fact that Logan let it slip the other day that my best friend dates a guy on the team. Or the fact that he spoke to Cale Makar because of me,” she ranted. 

“Sounds like a plus, I’m sure they’d freak out about this,” he mumbled as he followed her towards her bedroom. She chuckled as she shut the door behind him. He was already wearing comfy clothes, and didn't need to change. He sat down on the mattress, trailing her actions with his eyes. 

“I know,” she said in a whisper, “Cale Makar is on my bed,” she whispered sarcastically. He laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair. She pulled out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants and walked towards her bathroom to change, “You stay right there,” she pointed a finger towards him. He raised his hands up defensively with a wide smirk.

After a few minutes she reemerged from the bathroom in her new outfit, it wasn’t flattering in any way but she saw the way Cale looked at her. He looked like he wasn’t breathing, “You okay?” she asked him. He cleared his throat as he nodded. She sat down beside him, their knees bumping into one another. 

She looked into his eyes and saw the blue brighter than ever, his eyelashes were curled slightly. A detail she would’ve never noticed before. “Cale?” she mumbled, he hummed in response as he leaned towards her subconsciously. “I’m glad you were at the bar that night,” she mumbled. He smirked.

“Why’s that,” he let out barely above a whisper.

Friends into lovers

Leaning towards him she took a hold of his neck and kissed him. It was slow and hesitant at first. He kissed her back as he delicately placed his hand on her waist and turned her body closer and towards him. She hummed as she placed her hand on his neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, looking over her features with such admiration all over his features. He stood up, looking down towards her. Motioning for her to slide up the bed more, giving them both more space. She listened while maintaining eye contact. He climbed on top of her, holding himself up with both of his hands on either side of her head. He leaned down and kissed her, more urgently this time.

Her hands found his neck again, gliding through the short shaven pieces of his hair. “I’m glad too,” he mumbled against her lips before he sat up, she saw his pinked cheeks. A constant detail to his skin that she adored. He pulled the hoodie away from his body.

“I hate that Nate was right,” he mumbled as he leaned back over her. His eyes scan her features. 

“What was he right about?” she asked as she ran her fingertips along the base of his neck. 

“You,” he mumbled, “He knew I liked you before I did.”

[smileysvech]

What are some of your favorite hockey boy fics? 🥰

this is not an exhaustive list by any means, so you can check my fic rec tags here and here, but these are some of my favorites (most of these include smut so please respect authors’ warnings if you’re not 18+)

andrei svechnikov

fake numbers and date numbers by @matsbarzal

glittery by @comphy-and-cozy

the love countdown series by @behoright

meet me at midnight by @senditcolton

the mystery of love by @comphy-and-cozy

playing pretend by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

sundress season (and the sequel) by @comphy-and-cozy

when it gets crisp in the fall (and these follow up fics in the same universe: x x) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

andrei svechnikov/brady skjei

the after party and the after party II by @comphy-and-cozy

andrei svechnikov/dylan coghlan

919 temptations by @hoesforthecanes

brady skjei

adore you by @comphy-and-cozy

do I really have to tell you? by @senditcolton

midnight rain by @comphy-and-cozy

mat barzal

more than a vancouver sunset by @zuucc

praising you by @eberles

we've come so far baby by @mendeshoney

mat barzal/tyson jost

summer nights by @hookingminor

jt compher

our love was made for the movies by @jostystyles

slow mornings by @comphy-and-cozy

something to dream about by @comphy-and-cozy

mikko rantanen

bad for business by @comphy-and-cozy

you’re the reason I come home by @senditcolton

tyson jost

baby, you make me crazy series by @hookingminor

how I look on you by @hookingminor

like this series by @matbaerzal

longshot by @flashyfucker

open your eyes by @matbaerzal

matt martin

matt martin x sugar baby!reader blurb by @comphy-and-cozy

we're a bad idea by @senditcolton

[wyattjohnston]

here we are! finally with the masterlist! all the thanks in the world to the 39 people who signed up for the exchange and the lovely D who came in as my saviour and wrote a pinch hitter fic without even being signed up

please read all the fics below, so much love and care was put into them and they all deserve your attention. a reblog if you can would also be incredible.

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

keep your eye out for the winter fic exchange 2k24 sign up post. if you want me to let you know when it's happening you can click here.

the summer fic exchange 2k23 masterlist

Buffalo Sabres

Jeff Skinner

gotta trust how you feel inside by @laurenairay for @ nhl-stories

Tyson Jost

i should've fought harder by @butgilinsky for @ typical-simplelove

a Devon Levi fic was written by @waysicouldhave for @ jackhues but they have since deactivated.

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

Every Summer Has a Story by @comphy-and-cozy for @teokka

HATE HATE HATE by @luvmmarner for @ comphy-and-cozy this is a multi-chaptered fic, so keep an eye on it!

How Long? by @lifeofpriya for @ luvmmarner

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

all's well that end's well to end up with you by @fallinallincurls for @ ya-pucking-nerd

i've found love (and all that goes with it) by @huttons for @ fallinallincurls

Mikko Rantanen

Do That by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ kurlyteuvo

Summer Baby by @typical-simplelove for @ buttercupjosh

Nathan MacKinnon

It Starts With a Cookie by @luvsherleafs for @ princessphilly

Dallas Stars

Jake Oettinger

taking on the world together by @laurenairay for @ jarmorie

Los Angeles Kings

Pierre-Luc Dubois

as the seasons change by @gravestrain for @ bqstqnbruin

never said a thing by @wyattjohnston for @ pcttymarleau

Minnesota Wild

Marc-André Fleury

Genève by @teokka for @ callsign-denmark

Montreal Canadiens

Juraj Slafkovsky

If I Say It, Will You Respond? by @puckmaidens for @ 2manytabsopen

Nashville Predators

Tyson Barrie

simple by @jxmieoleksiaks for @ laurenairay

New Jersey Devils

Dougie Hamilton

hydrangeas where your face should be by @nhl-stories for @ huttons

Jack Hughes

make it weird by @wyattjohnston for @ torontoflames

something in the way she moves by @miracleonice87 for @ wyattjohnston

Nico Hischier

See You Again by @bqstqnbruin for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

Underneath the Stars by @buttercupjosh for @ ilyasorokinn

Timo Meier

Sweet Like Cinnamon by @wildrangers for @ matthewtkachuk

New York Islanders

Ilya Sorokin

Polaroid Dreams by @kurlyteuvo for @ lifeofpriya

Mat Barzal

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

Disney Magic by @lam-ila for @ tinyhockey

tell me why by @torontoflames for @ luvsherleafs

where you lead i will follow by @ilyasorokinn for @prettytoxicrevolver

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

Triple Axle Celly by @callsign-denmark for @ starshine-hockey-girl

Ryan Graves

a lake house story by @ya-pucking-nerd for @ thomasschabot

Seattle Kraken

Jamie Oleksiak

to the ends of the earth by @jarmorie for @ laurenairay

Tampa Bay Lightning

Brayden Point

one day all my love will come back to me by @matthewtkachuk for @ senditcolton

Toronto Maple Leafs

Matthew Knies

being a good man by @pcttymcrlecu for @ gravestrain

Vancouver Canucks

Anthony Beauvillier

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

The Invisible String by @starshine-hockey-girl for @ jarmorie

Quinn Hughes

i can still see it all by @ghostyjosty (jostystyles) for @ wildrangers

mango dragon refresher by @jackhues for @ lam-ila

saw you in a dream by @thomasschabot for @ puckmaidens

Surprise Party by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ ghostyjosty

Vegas Golden Knights

Nolan Patrick

Soothing Swedish Summers by @2manytabsopen for @ waysicouldhave

Winnipeg Jets

Adam Lowry

breakable heaven by @senditcolton for @ cellythefloshie

i am slowly making my own way through reading all the fics--if i haven't read yours and you want to make sure i don't forget, please send it to me.

if the person you wrote for hasn't read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

[zuucc]

MORE THAN A VANVOUVER SUNSET: What if…

… Mat had given in?

Summary: What If Mat had given into Emma, that night in his car? What if he’d thrown his principles out the window and given into what they both wanted so badly? This story is a spin on what would’ve happened in Mat’s car that night after their trip to Sunset Beach - the trip that definitely was not a date - if Mat hadn’t been so stubborn, and so adamant about taking her on a date first.

Warnings: Smut, more cursing than actual sentences

Word Count: 3600 (including excerpt)

Author’s note: I wrote the first 50.000 words to More Than a Vancouver Sunset when I was supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis. That´s just about three years ago now, which is just mind blowing on its own. The fact that this story still spins through my head still, is maybe even worse? Anyways, I’ve got a week long exam and just like before, that makes me want to write everything but that. It´s not like MTAVS doesn’t have enough smut as it is, but banging my head against table has got me coming up with all kinds of shit. Needless to say - it’s spicy. I know I’m not really on here anymore, and for most people I’m just someone you’ll occasionally see on someone’s Mat Barzal, Tyson Jost or William Nylander fic rec list. I don’t even think half the people I used to talk to on here back then are still here, but I hope this finds someone who’s interested. And this could be read as a stand alone, you do not have to have read the 80k nightmare that is More Than a Vancouver Sunset to read this.

I hope you enjoy.

In cursive, you will find an extract from More Than a Vancouver Sunset, with what leads up to this story. If you haven’t read the full story - Mat has previously stated that Emma is not the kind of girl he’d just fuck, he would like to take her on a date first. He’s brought her to watch the sunset at the beach, but didn’t call it date out of fear. Though it really feels like a date to Emma and he did end up kissing her.

~

His hand started laced with hers, their fingers intertwined, resting in her lap as they began the drive back home. The conversation flowed freely, and it hit Mat square in the chest that though their lives had taken completely different paths after high school, they still shared many of the same experiences and they still had so much in common – hell they’d even ended up in the same city. Soon, his hand was gripping her thigh lightly and Emma’s own hand curled around his wrist, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. 

“I have to admit, my crush on you came back pretty quickly,” he hummed, looking over at her for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road ahead, causing Emma to laugh. 

“Yeah, a little faster than I’d like to admit,” she agreed, and Mat nodded along. He was pulling onto her street, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. The digital clock on his dash had pushed past eleven and Emma’s parents’ house was dark when he pulled into the driveway. He turned the car off, already knowing that he wouldn’t just be saying goodbye and backing out again. He looked over at the beautiful girl sitting next to him, and she was already looking back at him. They both smiled, looking at each other for way too long before they both burst out in giggles. They’d talked non stop all the way back and now it seemed that they were both out of words. 

“Come here,” Mat chuckled, pulling her closer by her hand and meeting her halfway. They both smiled into the short kiss, their eyes meeting for a second before their lips did, though this time the kiss was loaded with all the sexual tension that had seemed to make the air thick all around them. Emma’s nose brushed against Mat’s before the kiss deepened, the open mouthed kiss sending warmth through both their bodies. While Emma slid her hands up his chest, Mat’s dropped to her thighs, his grip a bit tighter and moving a bit higher than where it had been on the way home. 

Mat hummed into the kiss when her hands slid back to his neck, her fingers instantly moving into his thick hair and curling into fists. Their tongues met in a slow slide against each other, sending a wave of want crashing between Emma’s thighs, as she moaned into the kiss – not even embarrassed at the sound, simply just wanting his lips on hers, or anywhere else on her body – that’d be fine too, and his hands roaming. Mat could feel his pants getting tighter with every kiss they shared and Emma seemed to get more impatient; little moans slipping past her lips, her fingers clenching in his hair, doing everything she could to press herself closer to him, only to be stopped by the center console. Mat reached for the little button on the side of his seat, taking his seat the last few inches back. 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, not pulling far away, her lips still moving against his while she spoke. 

“Just come here,” he hummed, kissing her hard but quick as he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and the other sliding across her back to curl around her waist. He pulled her body closer to his before he simply lifted her over the center console with very little help and effort from Emma, letting her straddle his lap. That in itself had Emma grinding her hips down onto his immediately, making a groan escape his throat in unison with the moan she pressed against his mouth. 

“Fuck, Em,” Mat said, groaning into her kiss, his hands on her hips as she ground against him. The shortened version of her name falling from his lips along with his hardening member under her, hit her perfectly between her legs whenever she rolled her hips over his, and it was pushing her further along the road to desperation. His hands moved slowly up her sides as their lips slotted together, so slowly it nearly had Emma placing her hands on his to push them to where she wanted them most. He pulled away from her lips, his own glistening and swollen as he looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. Emma looked back at him with the same look on her face, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Mat’s attention was caught, his hands finally covering her breasts. He kissed her deeply, but only for a few seconds before he started a trail down the side of her neck as Emma pushed her hair back out of the way for him. 

“Let me take you out on a date,” he spoke, his lips moving against the sensitive skin right beneath the line of her jaw. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other stayed on her boob, massaging it in his hand. Emma’s neck craned back to let him have as much space as possible, her hand fisted in his dark curls. 

“I thought this was a date,” She breathed, her body pressing against his, desperate to be with him – desperate to have him naked against her, desperate for him to be inside her. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head against her as he kept leaving kisses down her neck. Emma moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She rolled her hips into his and she could feel him fully hard beneath her. She was sure the particularly nice thong she’d decided to wear was soaked through. 

“You don’t have to take me out first – before you fuck me,” she moaned, clenching her fist in his hair. The words falling from her mouth along with the pull of his hair had Mat groaning and pulling back from where he’d been leaving kisses on her skin.

“I’ll take you out – tomorrow,” he said, making Emma swallow hard. He really wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t know how to deal with the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. They were both breathing hard. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she sighed, brushing her nose against his. Matt chuckled, kissing her lightly, but long enough to leave a tingle on her lips. 

“I’m sure you can feel what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her against him. A breathy moan fell from her lips, making a soft smile tug on his. 

“I’m so wet right now, I’ll probably leave a mark on your pants,” Emma told him, not even embarrassed about it. He was wearing a pair of dark green cargo pants that did wonders for both his ass and his thighs, so no, she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about leaving a mark on them. Not when he was making her feel like this. 

“You can’t just say that,” he groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Emma smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, towards his abs. Mat locked his gaze to her fingers, following them down his torso all the way until it slipped under his t-shirt. He looked up at her again as her hand flattened out over his abs. 

“And you can’t just look like this, and kiss me like that, and expect me to not be wet for you,” she dared, feeling brave and risky now. She was horny, and she’d practically begged for him to fuck her already, so she had nothing to lose. This time it was Mat who smirked.

“What made you decide to wear this dress tonight?” he asked, his smirk turning cocky as his hands moved from her hips to her thighs. Emma smiled, looking out the window for a second to compose herself. 

“I like the way it fits around my hips,” she grinned. He somehow managed to look even more smug than he already was with his fingers curling around the side of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer. 

“So, you did this on purpose?” he asked then, his hands moving back to her hips, but this time under her dress. His thumb rubbing back and forth on a spot right beneath one of the double bands on her thong, and then slipping under it just to tease. 

“I did – I even put on nice underwear for you,” she said. He could hear the hitch in her breath when he pulled his thumb away and let the band smack back on her skin. 

“You’re not even wearing a bra,” he smirked, having already figured that out when she climbed into the car hours ago now and he’d sure gotten it confirmed when he had his hands on her earlier, only feeling the thin material between his hands and her boobs. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing a nice pair of undies, though,” she smirked back, finding his smug expression faltering just a little bit. With his attention fully on her, Emma moved her hand out from under his shirt, finding the hem of her dress instead and lifting it just enough for him to see the white lace covering her most intimate part, and the two bands sitting high on her hips. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, letting his hands fall back down to her thighs, his thumb sliding underneath the lacy fabric. He looked up to meet her stare, keeping eye contact as the finger slipped further down to where the material was actually soaked. Pushing the thong to the side, he let his finger slide through her slit, watching her as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed. 

“I thought you had to take me on a date first,” she breathed, letting her head fall to rest her forehead against his, her fingers finding their place in his hair again. 

“That was just before fucking you,” he smirked, though through his tone it was clear that he was nearly as affected as she was. Emma moaned as he slipped closer to her hole, almost falling against him. Their noses brushed against each other and their lips met just as he slid one long finger into her. The desperate moan vibrating against his lips sent blood rushing towards his dick, even if he’d been hard for a long time already and he could feel himself twitching in his pants. The moan that followed when he pressed another finger into her had him wondering what sounds she was going to make when he’d get to push his length into her. He would’ve fucked her right there in the front seat of his car if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. But there was the fact that he didn’t want to have sex with her for the first time in his car in her parents’ driveway. He wasn’t really much of a romantic, but he’d like to take his time with her – in a bed. 

“Fuck, Mat,” she groaned, her lips capturing his before she pushed her tongue against his. Oh, what she’d do to have his tongue between her legs right now. Mat loved the way she said his name, and he looked forward to hearing her moan it again as he placed his thumb on her clit and started rubbing circles. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, her juices running down his fingers and making him want nothing more than to lick it all up. Her mouth fell open as he curled his fingers inside of her, her head falling back as a string of moans left her lips. 

“Just want to taste you, baby,” he mumbled as she gasped at the loss of his fingers, her eyes heavy as she followed them into his mouth, his lips locking around the two long fingers dripping with her arousal. The pet name sent another wave crashing through her body, and that, along with the sight of Mat licking her juices off his fingers, had her falling forward, her lips and tongue against his as soon as his fingers were pushing back inside her. The taste of herself mixed with what she learned was the taste of Mat, was something she could definitely get used to. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned against his lips, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her too much, yet far from enough all at the same time. She pulled away from his kiss and immediately reached for the straps of her dress that were tied in little bows on her shoulder, tugging at their ends and letting the front fall down to expose her bare chest.

“It’s too fucking hot in here,” she whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Mat’s lips hung slightly open, lips burning red and and glistening from kissing her. His eyes were dark and lustful, alternating between her face and her naked chest, her pink nipples begging him to touch them.

“You are unbelievable,” he mutters, more so to himself than to Emma. She grins, unsure if it’s her body or her persistence he’s referring to, but happy with herself either way. She grips his t-shirt in her fist and pulls him closer, pushing up on her knees in order to let him fit his mouth around her nipples. The moans erupting from her throat were so desperate that she’d normally be embarrassed, but she was desperate and she couldn’t care less in that moment.

“Fuck, Emma,” he cursed again. She’d started meeting him halfway as she fucked herself onto his fingers, meeting his knuckles as he thrusted the length of his fingers into her.

“You’re really making me do this, huh?” He asked, more so rethorically. His words were barely audible as he dragged his lips from one of her boobs to leave a trail of wet kisses up to her collarbones.

“What?” Emma breathed, too focused on the feeling that was filling her body and gathering into a big ball of pleasure in her lower stomach, begging to explode.

“You’re making me break my promise, baby,” he whispered, his lips having made their way up her neck, stopping right beneath her ear. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside her. Never before had he wanted something so badly. Sure, he could make her come with his fingers, and she would be somewhat satisfied, but the way she was begging for him? It did things for his ego that he couldn’t really explain and he needed to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted. He’d never felt so wanted by anyone. And truthfully, it was starting to hurt with how incredibly hard she was making him.

“Fuck, really?” She nearly cried, gasping as he pulled his fingers out of her. His fingers were wet with her arousal, but neither of them cared when he placed both hands on her hips and pushed back on his thighs. He nodded to answer her question.

Emma hurried to get her hands on the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper as fast as she could. Simultaneously, Mat slipped his thumbs into both his pants and his boxers, ready to pull them down as soon as she’d gotten them open. Emma cursed again as his erection finally sprung free and slapped against his abs - his t-shirt having ridden up ages ago.

“Fuck, Emma, come here,” he begged, reaching out to grab her hip to pull her closer with the one hand and finding the button on the side of his seat, reclining it in order to make the ordeal easier. It would’ve been easier to move to the backseat, or just sneak into Emma’s bedroom, but right now this just needed to happen as fast as possible. He needed to be inside her as fast as possible.

“Oh god,” Emma breathed as she maneuvered her legs in the tight space, watching him spit into his hand before wrapping it around his dick and lathering it up.

“Come,” he demanded, and Emma felt herself fall towards him. Her hands found his sturdy shoulders and she lifted herself up from his lap for him to finally line himself up with her opening.

“Fuck, Mat,” she sighed as he pulled her underwear aside and let his tip run through her slit. They both moaned in relief as she finally sunk down onto him.

“I just need you to know- fuck,” Mat started, but interrupted himself as she lifted herself off of him before quickly sinking back down. Emma wanted nothing more than to cover his lips with hers and just get lost in it, but it seemed like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I want you, in every single way,” he went on, stopping to breathe and curse to himself. His hands had found their way back to her, one hand on her hip and the other was gripping her ass, helping her keep a steady rhythm as she rode him.

“Not just like this. But god do I want this, too,” he managed to tell her. Emma’s lips spread into a wide smile, feeling full in every single sense of the word.

“Me too, Mat, me too,” she agreed, leaning her forehead to his and very willingly complying when he pressed his lips to hers. Everything that had happened between them up until then had happened fast, and so had this. But Emma knew it was right, even if it was absolutely terrifying at the same time. Emma’s fingers fisted into the thick locks of hair on the back of his head, and their tongues finally met. They made out desperately as their hips met repeatedly, Mat planting his feet into the floor of the car to be able to meet her hips every single time she came sinking down on him.

“I’m so close, Mat,” Emma sighed, adjusting her feet on the side of the seat to be able to up her speed.

“Me too, baby,” Mat agreed, letting his head fall back to watch her as she sat spread out on top of him, her chest glistening with sweat and her arousal having spread out on her inner thighs and Mat, too. One of her legs were extended over the middle console and into the passenger seat and that way Mat could see the way he was buried inside her, how he was covered in her juices. His thumb found its way to her clit and he watched her close her eyes in pleasure, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.

“Oh, god, now,” she cried, pushing herself forward to fall against him again. They’d never done this before, but somehow Mat knew what she meant. His arms wound around her, holding her close to him, as he thrusted up into her with all the power he had as she moaned and clawed herself to him - leaving marks on his shoulder as she finally came. He didn’t let go himself until he could hear her moans slowing down and coming to an end.

“Fuck, Mat, that was just… Wow,” Emma managed to say, still breathing heavily. She lifted her head from where she’d collapsed into his shoulder, a wide smile spreading on her lips when she pulled back and saw the one already on his lips.

“I know, I’m… I’m glad we did that,” he admitted, even though he had been so adamant on waiting til after he’d taken her on a date.

“Me too,” Emma laughed, relaxing into his lap again. The feeling of his softening dick inside her was warm and comfortable.

“To be fair, I really thought that was a date,” she grinned and Mat shook his head with an embarrassed smile on his lips. A blush crept up his already pink neck - Emma might not be able to see it with how hot they both were, but he could feel the blush settle on his neck and cheeks.

“It was supposed to be, but when I saw you this morning I just didn’t have the balls to call it that,” he admitted, his hands were running up and down the outside of her thighs as they spoke.

“You didn’t have to call it that, Mat. You didn’t have to say the word date for me to understand that the guy who’s been flirting with me for weeks and even told me that he wants to take me on a date and then fuck me, is asking me on a date when he’s asking me to come watch the fucking sunset at the beach. Like, I thought we’d established that I am quite smart a long time ago,” Emma laughed, and Mat had to cover his face with his hands as he laughed along. She was right, it definitely sounded like a date.

“So, if it makes you feel better, we can just say that it was a date,” she shrugged, smiling that gorgeous smile that Mat had been falling for every single time he’d seen her since he was assigned seats next to her in high school.

“Okay, fine. But I’m still taking you out tomorrow,” he grinned.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Emma mirrored his smile, leaning forward to press her lips to his again.

“I meant it though, what I said about wanting everything, not just sex,” he reminded her, struggling to keep eye contact as he said it. It was important to him that she knew how he felt. She was more than just a one time thing.

“I know, Mat. Me too,” she said, kissing him once more.

“But I really do want the sex, too,” he smiled cheekily, making Emma throw her head back laughing.

“Me too,” she agreed, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

[ahonice]

Until Now

Until Now

Cale Makar x Reader x Tyson Jost

Warnings: drinking, toxic relationships, some sexual scenes but no actual smut (ok maybe a little smut, depends on what you define it as).

WC: 11k (got a little carried away sorry babes)

*Some things might not actually match up to the real life timeline and something just straight up never happened, this is a work of fiction.*

*March 15th 2022*

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset.”

That phrase only made you more upset. Tyson had just found out he was being traded a couple hours before and he immediately began packing his things, and yours.

“Tyson I cannot just pick up my life and move across the country. My friends are here, my family is here, I have a job that I love here, I am not leaving.” 

“If any of the other guys were traded their partners wouldn’t have to think twice about going with them. Why do you have to be so difficult? Quit your job, I can provide for the two of us, and we can come back to visit during the holidays. All I want is my girlfriend and for us to be there for each other.”

“No, what you want is a trophy wife and I will not be that. This is over Tyson, thanks for the headstart on packing my shit. I’ll be back in the morning to get all my stuff.”

***

You had plenty of options of where to stay overnight, plenty of them having no ties with Tyson or any of the Avalanche players for that matter, but you still found yourself at Cale’s front door. After knocking and getting no answer you began heading towards the stairwell but the sound of a door opening stopped you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? It's late, come in.” 

“He is getting traded.”

“I know, it’s so unfortunate, I’m gonna miss him.”

Cale didn’t just assume you were leaving your life in Colorado behind, you appreciated that.

“We broke up. He wanted me to just drop everything and follow him like I’m some sad little puppy who can’t function without its owner.” 

“Oh. Well, do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Yes. “No. Just wanted a friend to talk to, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.”

And that is what Cale was that night, a friend for you to talk to, as well as a friend who did not let you leave once the both of you realized it was almost 3am and gave you his guest bed to sleep on.

 ***

You had called out of work on your way to Cale’s last night knowing you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to teach rambunctious high school students about whichever history course of yours they were enrolled into. 

Walking out of the guest room you were met with an empty apartment, which was to be expected as the Avalanche had a practice scheduled at this time. I cleaned up any mess I made in the guest bedroom and tidied up around the living room, texting Cale a thank you for everything before slipping out of his apartment and heading over to yours.

***

“Where did you go last night? None of your friends could tell me where you were, I was worried sick.”

The first words to come out of Tyson’s mouth upset you more than they probably should’ve.

“I’m not yours to worry about anymore Tyson.”

You walked towards the bedroom without another word, more rage blinded you as you saw all of your things Tyson had previously packed now out of their boxes and put back where they used to belong. 

Before you were able to yell out towards your ex you felt a presence at the door.

“I’m not breaking the lease, this is where you live too. I’m not just gonna leave you with nowhere to stay, I’m not that cruel.” 

“I can’t afford this place by myself, you know that.”

It was true, while you loved your job, you were still a public school teacher in a very underfunded school district. Tyson always offered to just cover all of the rent, but ended up settling for a 70/30 split rent, you insisted on helping out even if it was the smallest amount of money. 

“I know, I paid for the next three months in advance. If you plan on moving out please just wait three months, I know you don’t like money wasted.”

“Tyson, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He trailed off realizing the time. “I should go, I have a flight to catch.”

You nodded, sniffling. You don’t know when you teared up, but they were now clouding your vision. 

“Baby, please don’t cry. I know we aren’t together anymore, but I don’t want to lose contact with you. Please reach out to me, I know I will reach out to you.”

“What about Cleo?” 

Cleo, the cat you two had together, had never been Tyson’s biggest fan. You liked to blame it on her not liking men, but Tyson always fired back with a “She loves Cale.” That was true, she loved Cale, probably more than she loved you.

“She can stay here with you, she would probably run away if I took her.”

You laughed at his statement.

“She would miss Cale too much anyways. “ You joked. “Thank you.”

“Of course, you know she loves you more than me.”

“No Tys, thank you for everything. These past three years have been amazing, I love you.”

“I love you too Y/n.” His phone ringing interrupted him. “I really need to go, my uber is here. Don’t be a stranger Y/n, I expect to be hearing from you.”

***

*April 11th 2022*

Tyson definitely reached out more than you did, but he still got the occasional message from you with an update on Cleo or something that happened to you during work that day. He did get a picture of you in the jersey he sent just days after he moved out, the green material and the number 10 feeling foreign on you, having never worn anything with “JOST” on it that wasn’t navy or maroon. 

Almost a month later you sat in your apartment watching the Wild game, wearing Tyson’s jersey cuddled up with Cleo, who you had somehow gotten to wear the Wild bandana Tyson sent a few days ago, sending him a selfie of the two of you with a text message right after saying, “Rooting from you, Cleo isn’t suffering in that bandana for you to lose the game!” 

A knock on your door interrupted the trance you had been in while watching the game, your first plan to ignore whoever was at your door was abandoned as the person continued knocking, now almost banging on the door.

You cautiously opened the door, immediately fearing who or what could be behind that door.

“Hey.”

It was Cale.

“Hey Cale, what’s up.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, just wanted to check in. You’ve been ignoring my messages and calls, I know because you’ve been ignoring everyone else.”

He has a right to sound as upset as he is. Cale, as well as all the rest of the Avalanche roster and their partners, have been given the cold shoulder ever since Tyson moved, but after almost two weeks of radio silence they had all seemed to give up, all but Cale.

“Look Cale I’m really sorry but I just couldn’t bring myself to be around his friends. Everything reminds me of him.”

“Is that why you’re wearing his jersey right now? To help get him off your mind?”

“Cale–”

The Canadian wouldn’t let you finish what you were gonna say.

“I’m taking you out to eat, I know you’re hungry. Go change.”

Cale always knew how to read you because you were starving. He made his way inside, shutting the door behind him and immediately making his way towards Cleo who was still laying on the couch. He pet her, quickly pulling off the Wild bandana she wore and making a mental note to buy her an Avalanche one.

“I can tell she has missed you. If you were anyone else she would be in my bedroom hiding.” You spoke, walking out of the bathroom is an old hoodie rather than Tyson’s jersey you were wearing just moments prior.

“I missed her too, did Tyson not want her?”

“No, he knows she doesn’t like him, she doesn’t like any men.” You spoke with a chuckle.

“She likes me.”

“That’s because you’re special Cale.”

He blushed as the two of you walked out, not even realizing you forgot your phone on the coffee table in the living room. A text from Tyson lighting up your phone reading, “I miss my girls, when I’m in Denver next can we meet for dinner?”

***

“There is no way that actually happened.” Cale laughed, nearly choking on his coffee. 

He had taken you to Waffle House as that was the only open that sounded somewhat appetizing, you had arrived nearly two hours before, the two of you getting lost in the conversation talking about anything and everything, which was now leading to the senior prank that was pulled last year.

“I swear, they took the tires off of the principal's car and placed them in the trophy display case.” 

“That is so funny, did they get in trouble?”

“Oh yea, they were suspended and weren’t allowed to walk at graduation, but I think it was worth it. It was hilarious.”

Soon the laughter faded out into a comfortable silence.

“We should probably head back, it’s almost 9pm. I’ve got work in the morning.” You said, even though you never wanted this night to end. 

***

Cale walked you up to your front door, claiming he wanted to see Cleo one more time.

“You know you can come see her whenever you want to? I’ll unmute your contact info, I was wrong to try and ignore you.”

“You had your reasons, but yes please do that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You trailed off not knowing what to do, the tension in the air feeling all but friendly. Luckily the sound of your phone ringing cut through it, you quickly shuffled to where you had left your phone hours before. The screen lighting up with the name “Tyson 🤍” you never brought yourself to change his contact name. 

“It’s Tyson, tonight has been very fun. We should do it again soon, just message me whenever you're free.” Cale nodded, a quiet “Goodbye.” leaving his lips as he walked out the door.

You answered the phone, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“Hey Tyson.”

“Where were you?” 

“Tys–”

“No! You haven’t answered me in hours, i know you couldn’t have been sleeping because you keep your ringer one so where were you? Are you okay?”

His last question did not match his angry tone at all.

“I was out with a friend and I left my phone in the apartment. Tyson you have no right to yell at me like that.”

“Y/n I was worried, am I not allowed to be worried about my girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. Tyson, if I have to remind you that we are broken up one more time I don’t think I can play along with this whole “friends” act. I am not yours to worry about anymore.”

“Fine.”

“Tyson please stop messaging me, it is for the best. We both need to move on, our relationship is over and there is nothing we can do to fix it. Agreeing to stay friends was a big mistake.”

“There is something that we can do to fix our relationship, you can come move out here with me. I still love you Y/n and I know you still love me. Leave your job, I found a private school twenty minutes away from the arena that needs teachers.”

“Would you just stop it Tyson! We are over. I'm not leaving my life in Denver, I am done having this conversation with you. Goodbye Tyson, please stop contacting me.”

“Wait no Y/n please–”

You hung up before Tyson could finish his sentence.

***

 The next day Tyson would not stop calling you, during the school day you had to turn your phone completely off because “do not disturb” wasn’t even helping. By the time you arrived back at your apartment you’d had enough.

“Enough Tyson! I told you to leave me alone I’m blocking you–”

“Woah put the claws away, it’s just me.”

Cale.

“Oh I’m sorry Cale, I thought Tyson was calling me again.”

“Is he bothering you? Because I can talk to him for you.”

“No Cale it’s nothing you want to get involved in I promise.”

“Do you wanna meet for a late dinner after my game is over?”

“Yea I’d love to, good luck tonight by the way.”

You could hear his smile over the phone as he suggested you wear one of his jerseys tonight.

“--and put Cleo in that new Avalanche bandana I sent you.”

“Will do Cale, but I should probably go. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye Y/n,”

***

The knock on your door pulled you out of your trance, quickly lowering the volume on your speaker as you walked towards the door to answer it.

“Hey Cale, you can come in, just give me a second to change and grab my shoes.” 

“Ok, take your time.” His breathing stopped as he saw you turn around, his name and number branded on your back. He quickly walked towards the couch to take a seat, noting what songs were playing over your speakers so he could play it in the car.

“What artist is this?” He asks as you walk out of your bedroom, still in his jersey, but in jeans instead of the sleep shorts you were wearing when you answered the door.

“Harry Styles, he is one of my favorite singers ever.”

“Oh yea the one from that band, you went to see him in concert last year?”

You found it sweet that he remembered. Tyson had joined you at the concert but couldn’t even bother to learn the name of the artist, who you so lovingly adore. 

“Yea I did, it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. I’ve been listening to him since he was in One Direction and I just love his music so much. I’ve begun collecting his merch, and I think I’m gonna start collecting his records. I don’t even have a record player though.” You looked up trying to catch your breath, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble, I don’t mean to annoy you.” You spoke looking down again, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Cale gently grabbed your chin, making me look up at him, “You don’t need to be sorry, I don’t think you realize how adorable it is when you’re talking about something you love.” 

“Be careful, if someone else heard you say that they might think you’re flirting with me.” You chuckled out.

“Well they would be correct.” Cale paused for a moment “We should go, I don’t know how busy Waffle House is going to be right now.” He finished while walking out your door leaving you standing in your living room too stunned to move.

“Did he actually just say that?”

“Yes I did, can we go now? I’m hungry.”

***

“Is everything ok? You’ve been silent all night.” Cale said. It was true, but he had just dropped a bomb on you.

“Did you mean what you said? That you were flirting with me? Do you actually not find it annoying when I talk? Because if you’re just here to pity me because of Tyson then just leave.” You blurted out, immediately embarrassed by your short rant.

“No Y/n, not at all. Nothing you could do would ever annoy me. Did Tyson ever make you feel that way? Because I will beat him up.”

“Cale, please, stop. Let's just forget about it, I don’t like talking about it.” 

“Ok, but please eat your food before I do. Somehow I’m still very hungry.

***

“Cale, we should probably head back, it’s almost 1am.”

“Oh my goodness I didn’t even realize how late it was getting, I just lose track of time when I’m with you.” Cale spoke while standing up and gathering his things, “-And I don’t mean that in a bad way, I really enjoy spending time with you.” 

“Thank you Cale, I appreciate you.” You said while following his actions. “I don’t think you realize how good it feels to hear those words, especially when the person saying them is being genuine.”

***

Cale knew there was something off about your relationship with Tyson, even before he had moved to Minnesota. The way you responded to compliments and criticisms spoke enough on how poorly Tyson had treated you, he wanted to make that right. He wanted you to accept compliments without arguing, and he wanted you to know that no criticism that was thrown your way would change the way he felt about you. Cale wanted you, he always had ever since the night he met you almost three years ago, the same night you met Tyson.

*May 9th 2019*

The Avalanche decided to celebrate their season coming to an end at a club in downtown Denver. That club just so happened to be where you were working as a bartender, the job you had while in college. 

“We better be making good tips tonight, these guys make like one million dollars a year.”

“Don’t be a bitch and that won’t be an issue.” You spoke laughing at your friend, Callie’s, reaction.

“Put your tits away Y/n.” She fires back while walking away to her side of the bar. You laugh while you finish preparing your side of the bar.

Soon enough it was time for the team to come up to the private floor, you had no idea how they would act. Would they be respectful? Would they be creepy? Either way you need to get those tips, college is expensive. 

“Y/n if you pull your tits out anymore i think you would flash them.” Callie said, fake judging you.

“I need money, and your ass is out Callie.”

“I also need money.” The two of you laughed but were quickly silenced by the sound of footsteps outside the door.

Your coworker led them inside and they all took seats, some at booths and some at the bar. You immediately began taking orders and working on drinks, trying to get everything done as quickly as possible as to have a little down time before the next rush of orders came through. After about 15 minutes the bar had died down and you were able to start talking, more gossiping than anything, with Callie. 

“That blonde with the red cheeks has not stopped staring at you, like not once has he even blinked.” Callie told you, not bothering to be quiet because no one was around, or so you had thought.

“I have also not taken my eyes off of you since I got here.” 

You and Callie quickly turned around to see a boy with curly brown hair.

“I’m Tyson by the way and you are?” Tyson gestured over towards you, making sure you knew who he was talking about. 

“I’m Y/n.” 

“And I’m Callie, not that either of you are acknowledging my existence right now.”

You giggled and apologized about your friend before falling into conversation with Tyson.

“So you aren’t old enough to drink, but you are old enough to be a bartender? How does that make sense.” 

“You have to be 18 to serve alcohol, 21 to drink alcohol. It’s just how this country works, you’re gonna have to get used to it Canada.”  

“I don’t mean to interrupt, well yeah I actually do, but Y/n you have a job to do that isn’t flirting with Tyson here.” Callie chimed in, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

“I am sorry but she is right, I have to get back to work. It was very nice meeting you though.” Tyson gave you a smile before you turned to take orders and make drinks for his teammates.

As you were making a drink someone sat down in the stool in front of you, the blonde Callie pointed out earlier who “hadn’t taken his eyes off you”. 

“Hey can I get you anything?” You asked, setting the whiskey sour down for the man who had ordered it.

“Do you have apple juice?” The blonde asked.

“I believe we do, would you like that with vodka? Or what do you want?” You asked back, a little confused because that wasn’t a question you were asked before.

“No, can I have just apple juice? I’m not old enough to drink and water is boring.” He said avoiding eye contact with you.

“Of course, just give me a second to find it.” You responded while looking around the bar for the bottle of apple juice. Handing the cup to him after you finished pouring it, he began asking about you and why you’re working as a bartender.

“Well I’m actually a student at The University of Denver and I work here for money to pay off my loan debt.” You told him. “I am a few days away from finishing my second year of school, so don’t worry about ordering apple juice, I would also have to order that if I were on the other side of this bar. I’m only 19.” 

“You aren’t allowed to drink alcohol, but you can make and serve alcoholic drinks? How does that make sense?” He asked you, almost baffled at the news you just told him.

“It confused me too Cale–” Another voice cut in, Tyson took the seat next to the boy who you have now been able to place a name on, Cale. “-Hello Y/n, it is nice to see you again. I was worried my teammates would steal you away from me for the rest of the night.” 

“Well they couldn’t even if they tried cause you would just interrupt them anyways.” You chirped at him, making it obvious that he just walked in on a conversation that you were really enjoying. 

“Alright well I was just gonna order another drink, and also was hoping to talk to you some more. Would it be ok if I joined in on you and Cale’s conversation Y/n?” He asked in a tone, knowing what your answer would be. 

“What would you like to drink Tyson?”

***

“Come on boys, they're closing.” A blonde man came up to grab both Cale and Tyson’s shoulders. They quickly nodded their heads towards the guy grinning at you with some of his teeth missing. Cale opened his mouth to say something, but Tyson had beat him to it.

“Can I get your number Y/n? I wanna take you out sometime.” A blush rose to your cheeks, you weren’t blind he was attractive and you would actually be stupid if you didn’t give it to him. So that’s what you did, not noticing the defeated look on Cale’s face. Tyson beat him by asking you out, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be your friend.

*May 2nd, 2022*

The first round of playoffs began tonight and you could tell Cale was nervous, but so were you. Not only for your friend, who so deserved to win the cup, but also at the fact that this was the first Avalanche game you would be attending since you and Tyson broke up as well as the first time you would even be speaking and seeing the other players and partners.

“Why don’t you wear my jersey tonight? I know you aren’t wearing your jacket so you’ll need something to wear.” Cale suggested, walking into your apartment already knowing you were struggling to pick out an outfit without even walking into your room. What he didn’t know was that you had your headphones on so you didn’t hear him come in or speak to you, Cale also didn’t know that you were only dressed in your underwear while rummaging through your closet. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as a crimson color crept up to his cheeks, sure he has seen you in a swimsuit before, but this was just different. He quickly turned around and tried to make his way out of your room unnoticed, tried to. He ran into your bedside table while walking out, causing your lamp to tumble over, and making you jump in reaction. Quickly whipping your head around and saw a very red Cale looking at the blue lace that covered your intimates, rubbing his neck in shame.

“Oh Cale, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” 

He was surprised at your tone, why weren’t you the littlest shocked at him seeing you basically naked, did you want him to see you like that? Were you into him like he was into you? He cut his own thoughts off.

“I’m so sorry, um I’ll just be in the living room waiting.” He spoke before basically running out of your room. You found it adorable how flustered he got, it was just some skin you didn’t really see the big deal.

You quickly got dressed in one of Cale’s jerseys and some black leather pants. Putting on some accessories and your signature perfume before walking into the living room and bending over to put on your booties, catching Cale staring at you once again. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Cale, you always had been ever since the night you had met him. But nothing could ever happen, you were with Tyson, well you used to be. Cale was there for you whenever you needed it, he was everything you wanted in a partner. He was everything Tyson was and more. Maybe you did begin flirting with Cale a bit more noticeably a few weeks after the break up, but could anyone blame you it's Cale fucking Makar. 

“Ready to go?” you asked, turning to face him. He nodded in response quickly getting up, you could finally get a good look at his game day suit and god did he look good. Hiding the crush you had on him was getting harder and harder every moment. 

***

“Y/n! Ugh I have missed you so much!” Mel was quick to greet you once you stepped into the friends and family box. You had no idea how everyone would react to you attending an Avalanche game not as Tyson’s girlfriend, but as Cale’s friend. 

“Hey Mel, sorry I haven’t been in contact–” The captain's wife was quick to shut down your apologies.

“Don’t. I know it couldn’t have been easy to constantly surround yourself with things that remind you of him. I was a little surprised when Cale told us that you guys had been spending all your time together.” 

“Yea he has been a great support system for me, it feels nice to be friends with him again.”

It was known that after your relationship with Tyson had become something more serious, moving in together and getting a cat, that you and Cale had drifted apart from one another. He was your closest friend, you would’ve even considered him your best friend, but Tyson wasn’t a fan of the two of you. He claimed that he didn’t trust Cale because he had ulterior motives and didn’t just want to be your friend. 

“You’re not dating? Oh I’m sorry Gabe mentioned that you and Cale had been going on dates, I just assumed.” Your eyes widened at not only the assumption, but also at the bedazzled jean jacket with Cale’s name and number on it that was brought for you. You just shook your head at Mel’s apologies and took the jacket from her. “Maybe I’ll wear it to the next playoff game.” You told her with a fake smile on your face. Had you and Cale actually been going on dates without even realizing it? Did Cale think you were going on dates and you were the one in the dark about it?

***

You continued to attend all of the playoff games that took place in Denver and by the end of the first round it felt like you had never lost contact with everyone. They were kind enough to never mention Tyson in front of you, knowing it was still a hot topic and you appreciated that a lot more than they could ever know. You had to have Mel and Sydney stop you from texting Tyson, apologizing for the loss but also congratulating him on finishing the season with the Wild.

 With Cale being so busy you haven't been able to hang out with each other, but you’re still texting and calling whenever the both of you are available. Tonight was the first game of the second round and you were trying to figure out what to wear and that damn jean jacket was just staring at you from its spot in your closet.

 “It wouldn’t be horrible to wear it, I mean just because I’m wearing it doesn’t mean we’re together I’m just wearing a jacket, just like how I wear his jersey.” You spoke to yourself, an internal battle happening in your mind as you finally slipped the denim over your shoulders. 

“Do you still have my jean jacket?” A voice that was all too familiar to you spoke from the entryway of your room. Tyson. “You know you should probably stop keeping the front door unlocked, who knows what kind of weirdo could just walk in.”

You slowly turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you looked at the man who you had loved so much. His hair was grown out and he wasn’t clean shaven anymore, he looked different. 

“Tyson, what- um how- what are you doing here?” On any other occasion you would’ve been embarrassed by stumbling over your words but you were too shocked to care, the tears that had been settling in your eyes finally began falling as neither of you spoke, both keeping your eyes on each other scared that if you looked away that they would no longer be there.

His presence shouldn’t bother you this much, you shouldn’t allow him to bother you this much. 

“My season is over, I wanted to come down to support the team. They’re still my friends even if we aren’t on the same roster anymore.” He answered while walking towards you, him just being centimeters away from you by the end of his statement. 

“No, what are you doing here Tyson? Why are you in my apartment?” You ask softly, trying to hide yourself from him. You didn’t want Tyson to see you in such a vulnerable state. 

Tyson reaches up to gently grab your face, his thumbs wiping your tears away as he leans into your lips. As much as you wanted to fight him, and to not let him kiss you, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the kiss and wrapping my hands around him, managing to bring him closer to you. The kiss quickly deepens as you walk back towards your bed.

“I’ve missed you.” Tyson spoke in between kisses. His hands began roaming your body, but stopping as he touched the jewels that spelt out “MAKAR” on your back.

“I need you to take his name off of your back.” Tyson said, the jealousy was apparent in his voice.

Tyson knew that Cale always had a thing for you, he was horrible at hiding it. Tyson was never the biggest fan of you being friends with Cale, he didn’t trust the younger Canadian knowing that Cale had been in love with you since you met the both of them that night in May, Tyson had been too.

“Tyson, we need to stop this.” you said, pulling away from him. His lips chasing yours before letting out a sigh.

“Why? I am off of work all summer and so are you? Please can we just be together again? Be us again? I miss you so fucking much and I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you by my side. It was horrible after we broke up, I cannot function without you. Please Y/n, at least just consider going on a date with me? I’m in Denver for the next month and a half, I’m staying at a hotel.” Tyson rambled as you considered his words, you were doing horrible as well nothing Cale or any of your other friends could do or say was able to fully close up the hole in your heart that Tyson left you with.

“You can stay here, there is a guest room. No need for you to pay for a hotel room.” You whispered, shocking yourself with the offer. Him staying with you for almost two months would probably be one of the worst mistakes in your life, but you didn’t want him staying in a hotel, you knew how much he hated them.

“Y/n thank you, I hate-” Tyson started. “Staying in hotels. I know.” You finished.

“Can we skip the game please, go get some dinner and talk about everything. I think that is what we need, to just go over everything that happened and how we are feeling.” Tyson suggested to you, a little nervous that you would say no. 

Your heart spoke before your brain could, “Yea I think that would be what’s best for us moving forward.”

***

You quickly changed into a dress and some heels, Tyson changing into a dress shirt and slacks. He had made reservations for the two of you at your favorite Italian place before he had even got to your apartment because he knew you would say yes, you hated him for knowing you so well. You walked out after putting your favorite earrings on, the ones you haven’t worn since the last date you had gone on with Tyson.

“You’re wearing my earrings.” Tyson muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. 

“They’re beautiful Tyson, of course I’m going to wear them. You also put a lot of thought into the gift, they mean a lot to me.” You were fully aware that Cale had gone out and bought your anniversary gift for Tyson because he had no idea what to get you, and Cale had seen you eyeing that pair of earrings every time you went window shopping with him, he even saw the tabs open on your computer once, one of them being the link to the online shop that sold those earrings. They were all you could’ve ever wanted as a gift, and Tyson didn’t even know that. 

“We should get going before we miss our reservations” He said standing up, ending the slight stare down the two of you were having, you wanted him to admit he didn’t get you those earrings but he never would. That was the biggest issue, your relationship was built on lies.

***

“Please be my girlfriend again” 

Tyson didn’t even wait for the hostess who showed you to your table to leave before speaking.

“Tyson–”

“Y/n I have been so miserable since you left me, I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping, my game has been complete shit. Without you I am nothing, I need you back. I fucked up, I know that, but please if you just give me a second chance I will be the loving boyfriend that you deserve. Please Y/n.” He pleaded, tears building up in his eyes. 

“Tyson, can we please just treat this like a normal date and discuss our future in private.” He nodded as you both quickly shoved your heads into the menu, even though you both knew what you would be getting already.

***

Dinner was filled with the two of you catching up, you telling him about the things you have been up to since he moved and him telling you about Minnesota and the team.

“Did you stay close with any of the players or their partners?” Tyson asked after your stories had stopped being shared. 

“No, the only one I talked to and saw on a regular basis was Cale. I kind of shut everyone out except for him after we broke up, but I’ve started to go to games again. Which reminds me I need to inform them that I’m alive and just missing the game tonight.” You said while pulling your phone out to see a few texts already.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Hey! Just wondering if you were dead or not lol.

From: Mel🏒❤️

I’m gonna assume you’re not coming tonight, hope everything is ok. Text me when you can.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Text Cale too. He is worried.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n after the game tonight could you go down to the tunnels with Mel and Syd? I want to talk to you.

From: Makar🥰

Mel just told me you aren’t up in the box with them, are you gonna be late to the game?

From: Makar🥰

Is everything alright Y/n? It isn’t like you to ignore messages.

From: Makar🥰

Text me whenever you see this so I know you’re ok, I’m going out onto the ice now, I hope you’re watching from wherever you are.

You quickly typed a response to Mel’s texts.

To: Mel🏒❤️

Hey I’m alive. Tyson is in town, came by my apartment and now we’re at dinner discussing everything. Tell the girls I’m sorry I couldn’t make it and if Cale asks anything do not mention Tyson please, just tell him I’m sick and that I just needed rest.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Oh shit.

You chuckled lightly at the text before going into your conversation with Cale.

To: Makar🥰

I am so sorry Cale but I woke up super sick this morning and needed some rest, sorry I didn’t text earlier I’ve been sleeping all day. Good job on the game today! Cleo and I were rooting for you the whole time!❤️❤️

You sent the text congratulating him on the game even though it was only the 1st period, he probably wasn’t going to see it until after the game had ended.

“Everything ok?” Your head shot up, having forgotten about the real reason why you were not in attendance at the game the voice of your ex startled you.

“Yea I just had to text Mel quickly, what were we talking about?” You asked, placing your phone in your purse.

“How you just began attending Avalanche games recently.” He answered.

“Oh yea, I felt a bit awkward going after we broke up but Cale convinced me to go for the playoff games. The girls have been super nice about everything. I was scared they would hate me for having cut off our communication with them, but they said they understood why I did it.” You explained while playing with your food, a habit you displayed when you were nervous.

“So how is Cale?” Tyson's question shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did.

“Oh um he is great. He has had an amazing season, hasn’t he been texting you bragging about everything he has accomplished?”  You didn’t know if you should tell Tyson about how close the two of you had become in the two months he has been gone, afraid of his reaction. 

“Well he has blocked my number and all of my socials so the only updates I get on him are through the boys, but they usually just talk about the two of you when I ask about him. They say that the two of you have been going on dates and spend every night together, and that he asked for a playoff jacket to be made for you with his name and number on it. Is there something you’re not telling me Y/n?” 

With Tyson there is no trust, he gets extremely jealous and once he has the thought of you being with someone else he fixates on it and sees the guy as a threat. You would say his only threat is Cale. 

“Tyson, nothing is going on with me and Cale. We’re just friends, if you can’t trust me then why should I bother attempting to rekindle our relationship if you can’t trust me and my best friend.” You spoke, frustration clear in your tone. You could tell that you were making those around you uncomfortable so you proposed that the two of you pay the check and continue your conversation in a more private place, or just somewhere that wasn’t filled with happy couples.

***

“Are you sure nothing happened between you and Cale while I was gone.” Tyson asked for what felt like the 100th time, but it was probably just the third or fourth.

“Yes Tyson, for the last time nothing happened between us and nothing is happening between us right now. But if anything did happen you aren’t allowed to be upset, we are broken up. I can do and see whoever I want and so can you.” You basically yelled at the boy who sat on your couch.

“I don’t want to be with just anyone, I want to be with you Y/n. Am I not making that clear enough because I think I’ve said that plenty of times tonight.” Tyson yelled back. 

“Let's just calm down, I’m gonna go change, you can turn on the tv. Play the game or something.” You told him before turning to walk towards your bedroom. 

Once you’ve entered the room to search for a shirt to wear over your spandex, you saw one of Tyson’s Wild shirts sitting on top of your bed. One of your favorite habits of his, he always left a shirt out for you to change into after a night out. Contemplating whether or not you should put it on or just find another shirt to wear, you decide to just put on Tyson’s shirt thinking you’ve hurt his feelings enough for one night. 

Quickly putting some fuzzy socks on you walk out to the living room, freezing at the sight.

“I think she missed me.” Tyson was cuddled up with Cleo, she was wearing a jersey that had his number on it but the name said “DADDY” you were amazed at how he was able to get it on her as well as wondering where the hell he found a jersey that fits a cat.

“Please tell me you didn’t order a custom jersey for our cat.” You said trying to hide your laughter.

“I did, but don’t worry it's a jersey meant for a baby. I’m not that crazy to order a jersey made for a cat.” He responded, as Cleo went to lay on his chest.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He gave you a fake glare before laughing and patting the spot next to him. “I can tell she misses you, I would find her cuddled up in your old dresser sometimes with some of the clothes you left here.” He smiled at that and situated himself and Cleo so that you could sit next to them. 

“The avalanche game ended, they won, now it’s just playing the highlights.” He whispered to you, your bodies so close that a volume louder would cause a headache. You nodded and focused on the tv, well tried to focus. You and Tyson had broken up 2 months ago, which meant it had been 2 months since you had sex, and god were you frustrated. Sure you had a vibrator, but nothing was gonna beat actual sex, especially sex with Tyson. Thinking about it made it worse, so you shifted on the couch uncomfortably, crossing your legs to try and relieve some of the tension in your body, before looking at the TV, which was showing a compilation of Cale’s three goals, he got a fucking hat trick and you weren’t there to see it. You quickly picked up your phone to send a text to him.

To: Makar🥰

Congratulations on your hat trick tonight!! I cannot believe I missed it, I am so sorry. I’ll be there for your next one though 😁❤️

“What does he want?” Tyson asked, annoyed while looking at the contact in your phone.

“I’m just congratulating him on his hat trick tonight, and apologizing for not being able to attend the game.” You answered with a sigh, leaning over the couch and setting your phone down on the table in front of you. Which gave Tyson a very nice view of your ass. Was it a horrible idea to sleep with your ex while he is trying to win you back, or just in general? Absolutely, but you don't care, you just need to have a release. You stayed bent over, deciding to text Mel just to try and get Tyson a little riled up. 

To: Mel🏒❤️

Girl I know this is a bad idea but I think I’m gonna sleep with Tyson😭 

To: Mel🏒❤️

I haven’t had an orgasm in two months, seriously if he doesn’t fuck me I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Wish me luck!! 

From: Mel🏒❤️

Get that dick babe!! 

From: Mel🏒❤️

But seriously the second he leaves Denver I’m setting you up with someone. This has to be a one time thing, you’re better off without him.

You smiled at the messages before turning your phone on do not disturb and setting it down, missing a message from Cale.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n, I’m coming over to your place. Hope it’s ok because I’m almost there.

From: Makar🥰

I’m bringing soup and tea, I assume you’re asleep so I’ll just let myself  in.

Unaware that Cale was on his way you sat back down on the couch leaning your body onto Tyson’s. You hoped he would’ve picked up on your signals, but he just wrapped his arm around you and did nothing else.

“Tyson how many more signals  am I gonna have to give you until you fuck me.” You whispered in his ear, and that was it. 

His mouth instantly found yours, your tongues fighting for dominance as he grabs your hips to straddle his own. 

Soon the clothes were coming off, Tyson was in just his boxers as you were only in Tyson’s Wild shirt. The marks being left on your neck made the shape of a T, one of Tyson’s favorite things to do during sex, it claimed you as his. He began lifting your shirt up, not all the way, but just enough to be able to latch his mouth onto your nipple. So caught up in the moment, your moans and his grunts caused by your bare core grinding against his clothed one, you didn’t hear your front door unlock and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. You did however hear the sound of soup hitting the floor, you felt it too. You yelped, catching Tyson’s attention whose first instinct was to protect you. He quickly pushed you onto the couch and moved up to cover you, he still didn’t know who had entered your apartment. 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” Cale yelled towards your ex, your eyes widened as you tried to find your shorts, or anything to cover your exposed bottom half.

“I could ask you the same thing Makar.” Tyson asks, getting angrier by the moment. Cale having a key to your apartment, bringing you things thinking you were sick, and being protective over you did not sit well in Tyson’s stomach. You had spent the whole night trying to convince Tyson that nothing was going on between you and Cale and now all that work was out the window. 

“I knew it, I fucking knew there was something going on between you two. Y/n tried to tell me that nothing was happening but I’ve always known you loved her, you never got over her even after you lost her to me.” Tyson spoke venomously.

“Fuck you Tyson, and you Y/n–” Cale pointed at you. “I’m really disappointed in you. After all this time trying to get over him you just fell back into his trap. Was this your plan all along? To string me along and get my hopes up and then break my heart, because if so you accomplished it. Whore.” That's when Tyson swung and tears welled in your eyes. Cale regained his balance as a face of guilt washed over him, but he left before you could say anything to him or he could say anything to you. 

You quickly got up finding your spandex and put them on before running out the front door to chase after Cale. 

“Where are you going? Are you seriously chasing after him? He just called you a whore.” Tyson yelled as you made your way to the hallway.

“He’s my best friend.” you whispered back towards him, not even thinking he had heard it, but Tyson nodded at you as a way to tell you to go after him.

***

Luckily Cale lived in the same building as you so all you had to do was go up the stairwell to get his floor, but he had some leg and speed advantage on you, as well as a head start because you couldn’t get your damn shorts on, so Cale’s door was shut. 

“Cale open the door.” You said while knocking, more like pounding, on the door. “-Please.” You were met with silence as you continued to beg to be let in. Eventually your legs got tired and you began sliding your back down the door, the tears you had been holding back finally slipping free as you lost control of your breathing. 

“Cale, please.” Your voice was barely there, he wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was at the other side of the door. “I’m so sorry.” Even if Cale was on the other side of the door your weeps were enough to make the words coming out of your mouth sound like a foreign language.

You continued to cry until you heard the door to the stairwell open.

“Come on Y/n, we have to go. You need to go to bed.” Tyson tried to coax you into coming back to your apartment but you weren’t having it.

“NO TYSON-” you shouted. “-I fucked up ok. I need to make it right, he is my best friend and I cannot leave or go to sleep until I have talked to him.” Your words grew quieter as a new wave of tears washed over you. 

“Baby…” he trailed off before walking over to you, “Let's go Y/n. He doesn’t wanna talk to you right now, you can try again tomorrow. Just give him some space. Come on love, I’ve got you.” Tyson picked you up bridal style, too tired to care you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest, almost immediately falling asleep. Neither you or Tyson heard Cale’s door open or the faint “Y/n.” that left his lips.

***

“Wait so Cale walked in on you and Tyson doing it and called you a whore? What a fucking dick, why does he think he has the right to just enter your apartment and get upset at what he sees.” Mel exclaimed.

You had asked her to meet you for coffee so you could debrief what had happened the night before.

“Mel, I don’t think you’re focusing on the thing I want you to.” you sighed “he told me that I strung him along and broke his heart, do you think he likes me?” 

“Sweetie, is the sky blue? Cale has liked you ever since the night he met you, that same night you met Tyson.” Mel said, laughing shortly after because of your reaction.

“I need to go, I need to talk to him.” You said rushing out the door.

“Good luck Y/n!” You sent a smile before sprinting to your apartment.

***

Luckily the coffee shop was less than a mile away from your complex so you got there quite quickly. Not wanting to deal with the shitty elevator you took the stairs, quickly regretting that decision by the time you got to the third floor, but nonetheless you still made it to his door in one piece, you just couldn’t breath. You quickly recollected yourself before knocking on Cale’s door. 

“Cale, please open up, I need to talk to you.” You said hoping he could hear the desperation in your voice. He did.

His front door opened and you were met with the sight of your best friend who looked just as horrible as you did, possibly even worse. His eyes were red, his nose crusted, and his face puffy and glistening from tears. You would have laughed if the circumstances were different, but right now his appearance crushed you. You had a staring contest, neither of you moving or speaking, your breathing was even rigged. You broke the silence, “Can I come in?” he nodded in response, fully opening his door for you to walk in.

“Look Cale, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have slept with him, well we actually didn’t have sex last night we were just- nevermind, but still that doesn’t give you the right to call me a whore. That hurt Cale.” You said trying your hardest to get the tears out of your eyes.

“I know I’m sorry, that was way out of line, but you have to look at it through my eyes” Cale paused trying to figure out his next words carefully. “-Y/n, I’m in love with you. I have been for awhile, and seeing you with Tyson was horrible, but seeing you broken because of him was even worse. I really thought you were making progress, you were hanging out with the guys and their partners more, you seemed like you were finally you again and to see you just throw all of that out the window because Tyson showed up on your doorstep unannounced hurts the most. What were you thinking Y/n?”

 “I wasn’t. Ok Cale, I wasn’t thinking. Tyson is back and he really wants to get back together with me and have me move out to Minnesota with him. He really wants me to be his again.”

“Do you want to be his again? Do you want to be anyone’s? Why can’t you just be your own person and not settle, not be ok with being claimed as an object by a guy who doesn’t even realize how good he has it with you? If you do move out there, what about your life in Denver? What about your friendships? What about your job? What about us? What about our relationship?”

“Cale you’ll always be my best friend, I’ll always lo–”

“NO DON’T SAY THAT! I don’t wanna be your best friend, I wanna be your boyfriend, your lover, the guy who is there for you no matter what, the guy who loves you no matter what. I want to be the one who lets you see how wonderful you are, to help you gain back that self confidence you lost to Tyson, I want you to see how much you deserve and I wanna give you that and more Y/n. I wanna marry you, I wanna give you your dream wedding, I know you’ve been planning it since you were young. I want to start a family with you, one boy and a girl. We'll name them those names you’ve had picked out since childhood, Dylan and Jane. I know you want Dylan to be older but you would be happy with twins as well. Y/n I want to give you the life you’ve always wanted, the one that you deserve, Y/n I–” 

Cale was cut off by your lips, you had never even thought of spending the rest of your life with Cale, until now, sure you had thought he was cute and over the past couple of months you had gotten much closer with him, but you never had considered that he could be the one for you, until now.

The kiss was desperate on both sides. Cale had wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, if you chewed mint or fruity gum, it was fruity, he wanted to know how you felt wrapped in his arms, he loved it. Pulling away he chased your lips before sighing to himself and letting his head fall onto your shoulder. You welcomed his embrace by wrapping your arms around his torso, staying like that for a while before he felt wetness on his hair and heard your sniffling.

“Hey, hey are you ok? What’s wrong?” Cale asked gently, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him.

“It’s just, ugh it’s stupid-”

“If it is making you cry it isn’t stupid.” Cale told you affirmatively before motioning you to continue.

“Those things you said to me about my future, well our future, were you just saying that or did you mean it?” You whispered, ducking your head to try and hide from him, hoping that wasn’t all just for show.

“Every word of it.” 

You lifted your head to see Cale smiling softly at you, a blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Was it too much? I didn’t mean to overbear you or anything, you just needed to know how I feel.”

“It was a lot, I’m gonna be honest–” you both let out a chuckle, “but it was amazing. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, ever.” The blush on both of your cheeks were deepening as you began leaning in, letting your lips mold together once again.

***

It was a few hours later that Cale had to leave to go to the rink, time in between you first showing up and him having to leave was spent kissing, talking, baking cookies, and some more kissing. 

“Will you be there tonight?” Cale asked while double checking he had everything in his bag.

“I don’t know, probably not. I’m telling Tyson that we’re officially over and that I’m not moving with him tonight and I already know that conversation isn’t going to go well.” You answered truthfully, not wanting him to get his hopes up too much.

“Ok.” Cale nodded, picking his bag up and heading out the door.

“I’m sorry. Good luck Makar, score a goal for me tonight.” He smiled as he walked out the door. You stayed on his couch a little while longer before heading out the door and walking up to your apartment. 

***

“Tyson?” You shouted as you walked into your front door, “Are you in here?” You were met with silence, so you walked up to the guest room where he was staying and knocked on the door.

“Tyson?” You asked again, this time in a softer voice. You heard the sound of sniffling coming from the room and decided to enter.

“Tyson are you ok? What is wrong?” You asked, finding him curled up into a ball on the bed, tissues surrounding him.

“I’m getting traded. Again.” He weakly stated. 

“Oh Tys…” You didn’t know what to say, what to do. He had just joined the Wild and they’re already having him pack his bags. “-where are they sending you now?” 

“I have no idea, no one has picked me up yet. Why do they want me gone? I just started with them, am I that horrible at hockey?” 

“No Tyson, don’t say that about yourself. This is what happens in sports, players get traded. You can’t let it affect your game, and your life as well, that’s what happened when you went to Minnesota.” You worried he would take your bluntness the wrong way.

“I know that, it just still hurts.” You hummed at his response, not knowing what else to say. 

“Have you spoken to Cale yet? Or is he still ignoring you?” You instantly froze, how were you supposed to tell him that not only were you not moving back with Tyson, thus telling him you will not be getting back together with him, but also tell him that not only had you made up with Cale, you also made out with Cale.

“Yea, I actually just got back from his apartment. This is probably not the best timing but–”

“You’re not getting back together with me?”

“Tyson. I love you, I always will, but our relationship is not healthy. I need to put myself first, and I get how that might be selfish but I cannot put myself in a relationship that has made me feel unworthy of so much. I’m so sorry.” Now it was your turn to tear up.

“Y/n, I understand. I never thought you would actually come back to me. I’m sorry too, that our relationship made you feel like that, that I made you feel like that.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“You belong with Cale, I hope you know that. Obviously I wish that we could be together, but if it's not me it should be Cale. Last night I saw how much it affected you, him being upset with you, and seeing you sitting out there for so long made me realize that not once in our relationship did you fight that hard to make things right with me, I didn’t either. It hurts, but I understand that he means more to you than me, but I love you so much that I wanna see you happy, even if it’s not with me.``

You smiled at him, sitting up and wiping the last of your tears away.

“-but if things don’t end up going well with Cale I’ll always be here.” Tyson added in a jokingly flirting tone causing you to laugh. 

You got up and instantly started getting ready, you were going to the game tonight and you were gonna wear your Makar jacket. 

***

“Oh Y/n you made it!” Mel said enthusiastically when you entered the friends and family box. “How did it go this morning?” She added needing to know all the details.

“Really well…” You trailed off trying to quiet your voice down so those around don’t hear all of your business. “-we actually kissed, like a lot.” 

“YOU GUYS KISSED?” Mel yelled, the opposite of the reaction you were hoping for.

“Shhh Mel come on dude.” You said moving your hands around trying to get her to understand how badly she needed to shut up. “Anyways, we kissed, and he confessed to me and told me all these sweet things like really sweet things that made me cry.” You told her, smiling at the memory of it.

“What kind of sweet things?” Mel asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nothing like that you perv, but maybe I’ll tell you in the future.” You smiled towards your friend before you began paying attention to the game in front of you.

***

The Avalanche ended up winning their game in a shutout, 7-0 and letting them advance into the finals of the Stanley Cup, Cale also got a hat trick tonight. You followed Mel and the other family members towards the dressing rooms to meet up with the players.

You stood there leaned against the wall, nervously playing with your necklace. Gabe had exited the locker room a few minutes earlier and quickly took the attention of Mel, leaving you to your own devices while you wait for Cale, he still didn’t know you were here so you didn’t know how long it would take for him to exit the locker room. 

From: Makar🥰

Hey! Game is over and I just finished up, about to head back to my place. I hope your conversation with Tyson went ok, and I hope I can see you again tonight. Maybe you can go up to my apartment and I’ll meet you there? I’ll pick up some food.

To: Makar🥰

Look up dummy.

Confused, Cale looked up from his phone and met your eyes. His face instantly turned into a smile before he quickly walked over to you and dropped his bags.

“Hey you-” but Cale didn’t let you finish your thought, he grabbed your face and brought his lips down to yours, ignoring the hollering and whistling from the players around him. It wasn’t until Gabe shouted out a “Get a room you two!” Did you guys part from each other.

“You made it. Did you see my goals.” He whispered, a blush coating his cheeks.

“I did, all three of them. Congrats honey.” You whispered back.

“Ugh you’re gonna drive me crazy with that name.” He groaned, his head leaning back.

“Well I don’t have to call you it then, I can just continue to call you Cale.” You teased.

“No no no, please continue to call me that. You’ll get a nickname of your own soon, I just have to find the perfect one. Babe? No, that doesn’t sound natural. Love?”

“Oh I like that one.” You giggled a blush reaching your face.

“Alright love, let's go, I am starving.” Cale said, picking his bags back up off the ground.

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge me wearing your playoff jacket? I’m offended Makar.” You quipped, purposefully walking in front of him so he could see his name and number branded on your back. 

“Oh shit.” He said lowly, obviously flustered at the sight. “You look amazing, like really amazing. My last name looks pretty good on you, wanna take it forever?” He winked as you turned round to face him.

“One thing at a time Makar we aren’t even dating yet.” You said while walking up to his car.

“Well then will you be my girlfriend Y/n?” 

“Of course.”

“Great, now will you marry me?”

“Shut up and drive before I walk home.”

*A/N y’all this is the longest thing i’ve ever written lmao. i hope y’all enjoyed it, i kinda just write things and hope they make sense because planning and proofreading a story is for suckers. but if anything doesn’t actually line up to what happened in real life then oh well it’s a work of fiction. HOPE Y’ALL HAVE A GREAT DAY*

[holy-puckslibrary]

here's everything i published in the month of OCTOBER.

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

★ THE ONE (18+) 

pairing — fwb!ANDREI SVECHNIKOV x reader wc — 8k synopsis — the reader is andrei's favorite girl, but she isn't his only. for awhile, the arrangement was comfortable. he'd show up whenever he was in town, they'd fuck, and then he'd leave. rinse and repeat. so how will andrei react when their routine comes to a screeching halt?

★ CLANDESTINE (18+) 

pairing — dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader wc — 4.5k synopsis — when sidney catches the owner’s daughter hooking up with a rookie during a swanky event, he feels compelled to save an old friend some embarrassment. reminding showing her what a real man can do is just a bonus.

— INAUGURAL SLUMBER PARTY  tags: #oct 23 // #lights camera action

★ sharing is caring deets series masterlist

★ thoughts/feelings re: kinktober

★ lucky charm hidden object teaser game

★ re-visiting cameo and the remaster series masterlist

— 1989 (GRACE'S VERSION) tags: #1989 (grace's version) // #1989 (GV)

★ TRACK ONE — OUT OF THE WOODS (quinn hughes) the crush verse masterlist

★ TRACK TWO — THIS LOVE (erik johnson) the nanny verse masterlist

★ TRACK THREE — I KNOW PLACES (sidney crosby) the sugar sugar verse masterlist

→ next month’s round-up 

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[cuttergauthier]

Who I Write For

Hey everyone this is a list of who I write for.

If you have someone else in mind, send me an ask and i’ll let you know if i want to write for him. I’m not picky

Also if anyone would want me to start an AU let me know!

How to request

I DO NOT WRITE SMUT

New jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

Nathan Bastian

Dawson Mercer

Luke Hughes

Nico Hischier

Timo Meier

Brendan Smith

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

Brock Boeser

Elias Pettersson

Cole McWard

Anthony Beauvillier

Dakota Joshua

Toronto Maple Leafs

Mitch Marner

Auston Matthews

William Nylander

Matthew Knies

Morgan Reilly

Buffalo Sabres

Owen Powers

Tyson Jost

Devon Levi

Erik Johnson

Jeff Skinner

Tage Thompson

Dylan Cozens

Casey Mittelstadt

Carolina Hurricanes

Michael Bunting

Andrei Svechnikov

Jack Drury

Pittsburgh Penguins

Pierre-Oliver Joseph

Ryan Graves

Ty Smith

Columbus Blue Jackets

Nick Blankenburg

Kent Johnson

Cole Sillinger

Adam Boqvist

Zach Werenski

Adam Fantilli

Vegas Golden Knights

Brendan Brisson

San Jose Sharks

Thomas Bordeleau

Tristen Robins

William Eklund

Henry Thrun

Luke Kunin

Anaheim Ducks

Trevor Zegras

Mason McTavish

John Gibson

Frank Vatrano

St Louis Blues

Jake Neighbours

Colton Parayko

Ottawa Senators

Josh Norris

Brady Tkachuk

Mathieu Joseph

Jakob Chychrun

Zack MacEwen

Tim Stutzle

Thomas Chabot

Minnesota Wilds

Matt Boldy

Brock Faber

Brandon Duhaime

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte

Quinn Byfield

Brandt Clarke

Pierre Luc Dubois

Alex Laferriere

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Sam Bennett

Mackie Samoskevich

William Lockwood

Aaron Ekblad

Josh Mahura

Brandon Montour

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

Bowen Byram

Nate Mackinnon

Miles Wood

Detroit Red Wings

J.T. Compher

Dylan Larkin

Joe Veleno

Jake Walman

Boston Bruins

Mason Lohrei

Johnny Beecher

Jeremy Swayman

Jake Debrusk

Charlie Mcavoy

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

Arber Xhekaj

Kirby Dach

Christian Dvorak

Alex Newhook

New York Islanders

Noah Dobson

Mat Barzal

Philadelphia Flyers

Morgan Frost

Cam York

Jamie Drysdale

Joe Farabee

Tyson Foerster

Noah Cates

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafrenière

Adam Fox

K’Andre Miller

Braden Schneider

Chris Kreider

Zac Jones

Arizona Coyotes

Logan Cooley

Dylan Guenther

Clayton Keller

Nick Schmaltz

Chicago Blackhawks

Lukas Reichel

Seth Jones

Alex Vlasic

Connor Bedard

Tampa Bay Lightnings

Brandon Hagel

Anthony Cirelli

Seattle Kraken

Brandon Tanev

Jamie Oleksiak

Philipp Grubauer

Will Borgen

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

Jake Oettinger

Rope Hintz

Craig Smith

University of Michigan

Luca Fantili

Rutger McGroarty

Nick Moldenhauer

Phil Lapointe

Jacob Truscott

Tyler Duke

Marshall Warren

Frank Nezar

Ethan Edwards

Michigan State University

Red Savage

Isaac Howard

Maxim Štrbák

Ohio State University

Joe Dunlap

Cam Thiesing

Davis Burnside

Caden Brown

Matt Cassidy

Minnesota University

Luke Mittelstadt

Jimmy Snuggerud

Ryan Chesley

Oliver Moore

Brody Lamb

Boston College

Cutter Gauthier

Will Smith

Ryan Leonard

Gabe Perreault

Drew Fortescue

Jacob Fowler

Will Vote

University of Wisconsin

Cruz Lucius

Charlie Stramel

Zach Schulz

Random Teams

Nick Granowicz

Jay Keranen

Colton Dach

Nathan Gaucher

+ more

AU’s 

Nick Granowicz x Msu Reader

Josh Norris x Tkachuk sister

Trevor Zegras x Hughes sister

Cutter Gauthier x Hughes sister

Matthew Knies x Matthews sister

Jack Hughes x Mercer au

[eightmakar]

I read an insanely hot story in a breeding subreddit, and got all in my feels about Josty with it. I'm desperate for a story where you've been in a relationship with him for a while; and since you're not the only one that benefits from birth control, on the days he's home, he has an alarm set on his phone, and it's his responsibility to make sure you take your pill on time. One day you decide to play around with him a bit. A little bit of Naked Hide n go Seek. Giggling as he goes around the house, laughing, trying to find you with your pill in his hand. all the while... you sending him texts, *Picture of your naked body* "You better get me my birth control soon, Tys. Or you'll have to go back to condoms for a few days."

HIm texting back: "playing with fire, baby. Tell me where you are and I'll give you something else too." *dick pic* your pill perched on the head, you can see the precum on the tip.

so you send him a *naked bathroom mirror selfie* while you're hiding behind the couch. giggling as you hear him run to the bathroom. just for his laugh/frustrated yell. "Where are you?!" *last picture of your legs spread on the couch.* and when he walks into the room, he's buck naked as you are, his hard dick swinging, before he holds it still long enough for you to lick your pill off the tip. Then you spend a few hours in ecstasy, dirty talking, making each other cum. Loving the feeling of him pulse as he creams up inside you.

I'M GOING TO PUKE THIS IS SO HOT

also i had adhd and forget things so the idea of him being like "babe cmon it's time!!!!" is so endearing to me

nsfweekend!!!!

tyson knows you're forgetful, so he does what he can to be helpful. your birth control makes you sick if you don't take it at exactly the same time, so when his alarm goes off while you're grabbing a phone charger, you get an idea. you strip and send the first text to him, then hear him laugh as he shuffles out of his clothes. you nearly give yourself away when he sends you the photo of your birth control pill on the head of his dick, but manage to scurry over to the bathroom before he sees you. you snap your mirror selfie, then rush behind the couch before sending it, relishing in the sound of his frustrated sigh.

"baby!" he laughs.

you clamber onto the couch, snap the picture of your legs spread wide for him, and he throws himself into the living room, with his dick standing hard and ready for you. the moment the pill is in your mouth, he has you on your knees on the couch cushions, chest against the back of the couch, pounding into you so hard you think you can feel him in your chest.

"you're such a fuckin' tease," he growls. he yanks you up so your back is against his chest, still fucking into you at a ridiculous pace. "when will you learn to fuckin' behave?"

"when will you learn to fuck me better?" you shoot back.

tyson laughs maniacally, shoves you back down, and slams into you so hard you yelp out. you feel his cock twitching and pulsing as he cums in you, but he doesn't falter in his pace, continuing to fuck you until you come, before lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom to continue.

[yauchfilms]

welcome!

hiii everyone, my name is kit, and i'm attempting to get more into writing this summer!

i'll properly sort everything once i get more out but for now:

my works:

so american ✢ max verstappen (smau, fluff)

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (one shot, smut)

big thighs, new jersey ✢ mattias samuelsson (one shot, smut)

fine tuning ✢ ukko-pekka luukkonen (one shot, fluff)

fever pitch ✢ connor dewar (one shot, fluff)

who i write for:

formula one/motorsport

max verstappen

lando norris

daniel ricciardo

oscar piastri

alex albon

logan sargeant

pato o'ward

david malukas

hockey/nhl

mattias samuelsson

tyson jost

ukko-pekka luukkonen

jj peterka

jack quinn

quinn hughes

seth jarvis

connor dewar

+ more if i can think of any! if you aren't sure though, just ask!

[senditcolton]

🐝 - your turn to give a status check on the mikko side of our mikko/jt threesome mind meld creation 😘

& if I’m allowed to do 2 - I would love to see where your creative brain is at with your evermore series! I am so excited to see everything you come up with and absolutely love the idea of a series to that album, written by you specifically! 🫶🏼

- @comphy-and-cozy

you can absolutely ask for two @comphy-and-cozy 🤍

🔥Unnamed Depravity🔥 I have the entire smut planned out but right now it’s literally just the ‘stage directions’ – this happens then this happens then this, etc. But it is 1.6k of just that so the actualy fic is going to be an adventure. I can share two quotes of breathless praise from JT. “Fuck, I can see why you wanted to keep her to yourself.” “You’re going to be the death of me.”

🍂Evermore Fic Series🍂 Like above, I have the general plot of every fic in this series planned out. So, it’s really a question of which you’d like to hear more about: The aftermath of a divorce, the pain and the relief of it all, with Brady Skjei (Happiness)? Casey Cizikas scaling up your fire escape to confess his love to you in the middle of winter (Evermore)? An immortal meeting the reincarnation of her ex – the magical version of right person, wrong time – with JT Compher (Right Were You Left Me)? Tyson Jost being the only one that knows how to comfort you after the loss of a loved one (Marjorie)? The story of two very different New Year’s Eve parties with Anthony Beauvillier (Champagne Problems)?

[tonyspep]

hi! it’s your winter fic exchange anon here! :)

i wanted to touch base with you before i begin writing!

1. Do you have a particular player you'd like me to write about from your list, or are you open to any of them? Is there one player you're particularly interested in at the moment? Here’s your list of players as a refresher (Erik Johnson, Tyson Jost, JT Compher, Nathan Mackinnon, Auston Matthews, Mitch Marner, Tyler Seguin)

2. You mentioned that you’re interested in fluff, smut (18+ only), alternate universe, reader insert or oc. I'd love to know if you have a particular preference for any of these six options. If you're interested in an alternate universe, is there a specific one that you'd enjoy?

3. What pronouns do you prefer for the fic?

4. Would you prefer your fic to have a holiday theme or not?

5. Are there any topics that you prefer NOT to be in your fic?

6. Is there anything I didn't ask about that you think is important for me to know?

i’m so so so excited to write for you and i can’t wait to see your answers!!

Hi!!! This is so cool!!! I'm so happy that you're excited to write for me!!! I can't wait to start my own fic and to read the one you're writing for me. I know I'll love it. The player I would like you to write for is Auston Matthews. The fic can totally have a holiday theme and if you can write it as friends to lovers, that would be great. The pronouns you can use are she/her and if you want to do it with an original character that's fine, but a reader insert works, too. However it flows for you, I'll be fine with either one.

Thank you so much for reaching out and for writing this fic for me!!! Have a wonderful holiday season 💚🤍❤️💙🩷💗💓💘💕🎄🌲🎁🎅

[bqstqnbruin]

hi christina! hope you’ve been doing well on your time away. ☺️

i am your fic exchange writer here to ask you a few questions!

do you have a few players you would particularly love to read for? i know on the list of people i would write for you said jack hughes, tyson jost, ryan graves, cale makar, PLD, and brock (i believe that was all). do you have a favorite or two of any of those or a different player that you would love to read for? i am very open to writing for players not on that list!! :)

do you have a favorite trope? and similarly, do you have tropes that you are definitely not interested in reading? i don’t write smut or angst unresolved but other than that im very open!

sorry for all the questions, feel free to get back to me in however much time you need. im really excited to start writing for you!! ☺️🫶🏻

hi love! Any of those players would be fine with me! who ever is easiest for you I would be happy to read (I know those answers suck I'm so sorry)

I don't have a favorite trope, just don't do like pregnancy. I'm totally fine with no smut. I do love angst and happy ending is fine!

Ask questions any time, my shool year is over 😂

[jostystyles]

hi, can you do “i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.” for tyson

a/n: this is so much longer than a blurb. i'm not even sorry. also, this is my shitty attempt at smut. apologies in advance for how bad it is. please do not read if you aren't 18+ !

The bar was crowded, but not too much that you couldn't move. The Handsome Gambler was one of his favorite spots so far. It reminded him of a place you'd find out west, with sort of a country vibe. Nightlife in Minnesota was everything he was told it would be, and even more so that he got to spend the summer with his buddies. He got to connect with friends new and old, one of those being (Y/N). They'd met back in North Dakota as freshman, and stayed friends ever since. She lived in Minnesota for work now.

Tyson wasn't physically attracted to (Y/N) at first. He cherished her friendship above everything. Sure, she was cute, but wasn't really like the girls he usually went for. But once she came home from studying abroad, that changed everything. She was no longer the shy, quiet, insecure girl who he became best friends with.

She was fucking hot. He felt guilty for seeing her the way he did sometimes, and how often he thought of her alone in his bed at night. But he was head over heels for her, both in the romantic sense and the lustful one. He knew something had shifted between them this summer, and the sexual tension was such a tightly wound coil, it was bound to snap at any second.

He hoped tonight would be the night. From the moment she walked in the bar with some of their friends, he was ready to drop to his knees right then and there.

(Y/N) was wearing a light blue satin dress, if you could even call it that for how much it covered. It hugged her curves in all the right places, showing off her thick hips and putting her breasts on display perfectly. Tyson had a ton of respect for women, more so than the average man he liked to think. But tonight, all that went out the window. The only emotion he was feeling was pure lust.

He hoped he could get a moment alone with her, but before he knew it they were both at least 2 drinks deep. Not enough to be drunk, but just enough of a buzz. He wandered up to the bar for another, and felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with his favorite set of (Y/E/C).

"Hi." She spoke, a sly smile appear across her face.

"Hey, (Y/N). Come to get another drink too? 'S on me. Whad'ya want?"

"Vodka Red Bull. And I also just wanted to get away from Liv. She won't stop trying to set me up with her dumb neighbor."

Tyson hummed, feeling jealous even though he knew he had no right to be. "I'm glad we're alone now. I can finally tell you how good you look. That dress sure was made for you." He flirted, reaching out to squeeze her hip.

(Y/N) smiled, reaching for her drink the bartender just placed. Leaning closer to him, she spoke, "Thanks, Tys. Also, I'm not wearing any underwear. Just thought you'd like to know." With that, she took a sip of her drink and sauntered away.

Tyson stood bewildered for a second, thinking. Did she really just say that to him? Was she being serious? He looked up, meeting her eyes across the room. He felt his cock harden as she made glances toward the bathroom at the back of the bar. Time moved in a blur, and before he knew it she was standing in front of him. Grabbing her hands, he slowly backed her up against the wall before they were face to face, his lips hovering above hers.

"Was I too forward?" She teased, a slight smirk on her face.

Tyson scoffed, using his free hand to grab hers that was settled on his thigh, moving it to his crotch. "No, I think you were forward enough."

"Going to do something about it then, Josty?"

Slamming his lips onto hers, he grabbed her leg and hiked it up around his waist. This wasn't exactly how he pictured their first kiss, but no going back now. (Y/N) let out a high pitched moan and Tyson felt his cock growing harder each second. She was spread open enough that he could feel her wetness on his jeans, and that was almost enough to send him over the edge.

Breaking the kiss, he swung the door to the bathroom open before picking her up swiftly and setting her down on the counter. He didn't bench 250 at the gym for nothing. Locking the door, he moved back between her legs.

"You sure about this?" He said.

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh. "Never been more sure about anything. I've only been dropping hints for like, 4 years."

"You're telling me we could've done this 4 years ago?"

"Shut the hell up and eat me out, Tyson." She said, smiling as she pushed his shoulders down.

"Don't have to tell me twice." He uttered, dropping to his knees. She placed one of her legs on his shoulder, pushing him towards her sex.

Tyson pressed a few soft kisses to her inner thigh, before making his first move. He licked a stripe up her folds, before landing on her clit. He circled his tongue around it a few times before sucking it lightly, then a bit more harsh the second time. (Y/N)'s hand was wrapped in his mop of curls, the other one gripping her breast. Her breathing was heavy, and her head was thrown back against the mirror. She let out a squeaky moan, her mouth wide open in pleasure.

Tyson continued his actions, this time pumping one, two fingers inside her. This caused (Y/N) to wiggle slightly, tugging a bit harder on his hair. Tyson rutted his hips toward nothing, moaning into her cunt.

"Fucking Christ, you're good at this, I'm so close." (Y/N) practically cried.

As if to bring her closer to her orgasm, tyson glanced up at her through his eyelashes, his free hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze. Making kitten licks to her clit and curling his fingers inside her, he could feel her walls start to pulse.

"Oh my god, fuck. I'm gonna cum. Fuck, Tys." (Y/N) wailed, feeling the coil in her belly start to snap. She moved to bring Tyson's head off her pussy, but he relented. She came harder than she'd ever before, from any previous partner or toy. A string of curses fell from her lips as Tyson rode it out with her. He licked up every last drop of her sweet juices, before pulling off with a squelch.

His hand still holding hers, he used his free one to wipe his face, licking his fingers that once rested inside her. (Y/N) sat, her back to the wall, breathing heavily and coming down from her high. She shook her head with a smile at his slutty actions, doing that while not breaking eye contact.

"Was that good?" Tyson spoke.

(Y/N) sat up. "Was that good? You literally just gave me the best head of my life and you're asking me that?"

Tyson blushed with a smile. "Just an honest question, babe."

(Y/N) leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. The kiss was sweet, and she knew there were feelings behind it for both of them.

"How's that for an honest answer, huh? Ok. My turn to return the favor."

As she pushed off the counter and started to drop to her knees, and fiddle wit his belt buckle, Tyson was sure he was seeing heaven tonight.