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dunnerlars · 8 months ago

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truth or dare - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: summers are your favorite, but what comes after summer? word count: 2.7k warnings: alcohol mention a/n: and we're pinch hitting! this is for the lovely @writingonleaves for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the absolute kick ass @wyattjohnston! cobbled this together the last couple of days so i hope it's okay!

—

You coveted summers.

Summers were the only time of the year that you got uninterrupted moments with your best friend. Every summer it felt like he became more and more busy, with less time to spend at home so, summer was what you looked forward to and the little time he did manage to carve out and visit.

You’d grown up living just a few streets down from where Mat did, tucked away in a sleepy suburb, moving to the area when you were 10. It’d been hard moving to a new country, even if Canada wasn’t all that far from the States, things were just different. Making new friends and trying to fit in had been overwhelming, most girls already forming their friend groups and shunning outsiders, but when you’d met the boy down the street just a couple of years younger than you, when he came by your house one hazy afternoon asking if you wanted to play street hockey, well- that’d been it.

Despite the small gap in age, you two were inseparable and his friends became yours and it made the move easier- settling in seem inevitable instead of never ending. When he left only a handful of years later for Seattle to play hockey, it felt like everything was falling apart again. The infrequent texts and calls, trying to keep in touch through things like Facebook or Snapchat, was rough. You were 17 and sure Seattle wasn’t all that far but it’s not like you could explain to your parents why you suddenly needed to cross the border to see your best friend who’d helped you keep everything together.

Eventually things got easier. Mat’s friends were still yours, but you made your own. Went off to University, made more friends, moved to Vancouver, and got a big girl job but still summers were spent at home. With Mat.

And so: summers.

You didn’t actually get the whole summer off, normal jobs were like that, but you saved all of your vacation to make sure you were home for most of it. But, well- you'd quit your job just before the beginning of summer. And you were set to start the new one in early September so now the entire summer was yours.

There’s been something about this summer that’s felt different. Maybe it was the fact that you’ve been hiding something you’re nervous to share with the important people around you or that you were nearing a new decade in life soon, time changing, even if you felt like you were the same. Summer’s spent in the same childhood room with posters covering the wallpaper, fairy lights strung around the ceiling, polaroids tacked on your closet door full of memories and friends.

Mat had come home earlier than planned this summer, knocked out of the playoffs in the 1st round. You’d let him sulk for a week before you dragged him out into the sunshine with promises of ice cream and letting him beat you at tennis and then he’d left again- for Italy and weddings, relaxing far away from responsibilities and you. And then he was back. Back to soak up the last bits of summer before he flew across the country, and back to hockey.

—

It was one of the last days of summer and you were determined to make the most of it.

So, you packed a bag full of towels, sunscreen, books, and a million other ‘just in case’ items, and made the short trek over to Mat’s childhood home.

The front door was slow to open once you knocked, Mat appearing sleep rumpled and hungover.

“I thought you went home early last night,” you frown in greeting, pushing past him and into the house you were just as familiar with as your own.

“I did,” he groans, making his way to the kitchen and starting coffee, “Just tired. Are we really going to the beach this early?”

“It’s noon.”

Mat bangs his head against the cabinets at that and you snort, setting your bags down and hopping onto the counter next to him.

“You leave tomorrow. I leave next week. We don’t have to go, but I thought it would be nice. Everyone’s already down there. Charlotte’s made those sandwiches you like and Justin got you a whole case of only mango White Claws. And Hannah might kill me if we don’t show up and I’ll blame you.” You nudge his thigh with your foot, trying to get his attention as he watches the coffee pour. “Come on. Please.”

Once his gaze catches yours, he stares for a second and nods reluctantly. “Fine. Give me five?”

“Perfect. I’ll finish the coffee. You get dressed.”

You hop down as Mat shuffles out of the kitchen, doctoring his coffee into a to-go cup and putting the rest of the pot in a thermos you dig out of the back of the cabinet.

As you tuck the milk back onto the shelf of the refrigerator, the sight of the photos littering the doors as you close them has you smiling. You’re in a handful of them, Mat tucked under your arm in a couple of them until he hit a growth spurt a couple of years later. One of you both playing street hockey the first year you’d moved to Coquitlam. Your favorite, though, is stuck under an Islanders magnet on the top corner from Mat’s draft day where he’s giving you a piggyback ride down the hallway of the hotel after a long day of shaking hands, phone calls, and endless press.

Mat breaks the moment as he comes back to the kitchen, dressed in swim shorts and a long sleeve button down on, buttons completely undone leaving him bare chested. You have to take a deep breath, willing yourself not to say something stupid as he presses up behind you and hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Coffee good?” he asks, peering at the pictures on the fridge too.

“Yep, uh huh.”

Leaning over you, Mat presses his finger to the picture of you both playing street hockey and taps it with an airy laugh. “Who knew, huh?”

You barely manage to swallow and nod before he’s peeling himself away and grabbing the thermos and to-go cup of coffee, tucking them into his own bag and waiting.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, you’re driving. Let’s go.”

—

The drive to the beach is a short 20 minutes, Mat filling the time with his obnoxious singing. Normally it was something you’d give him shit about, but you were thankful he didn’t notice anything off about the lack of ribbing he wasn’t getting, lost in your own thoughts.

Since you were both late, it was easy to spot everyone down near the shoreline set up near a haphazard volleyball net. Cheers of your names were mixed as you both approached the group, like they hadn’t seen you both in years, not hours since you’d all gone out last night too.

Mat’s quick to pop open one of his mango White Claws once you reach everyone and you roll your eyes, setting up your towel and undressing down to your swimsuit. You were determined to make the most of the sun, knowing you weren’t going to see it too often soon. Hannah, one of your best friends who you’d met in college, lays out next to you and pulls out her book.

“Are you excited for the move next week?” She asks curiously, turning to face you.

Hannah was the only one who knew your news, confiding in her when you’d gotten the job offer a couple of months ago.

“I think so? I’m still so nervous and being so far away from everyone,” you sigh, “But it’s not like I won’t have anyone. And I still haven’t told Mat.”

Hannah’s expression turns funny and you realize why when Mat plops down near you both, “Haven’t told Mat what?” he wonders.

You scramble, looking around and catching Charlotte playing cornhole with Jordan and remember, “Charlotte forgot the sandwiches. She texted me on the drive over. Sorry.”

Groaning, Mat dramatically lays down and feigns upset. “Can’t believe you lied to me. What kind of best friend are you? Have the last 20 years meant nothing?”

“I still can’t believe you two have been friends for that long. I can’t remember the last time I could stand someone longer than a couple hours,” Hannah chimes in and you pinch her thigh with a scowl.

“Best 20 years of my life,” Mat says proudly and you glance up at him through your sunglasses, catching the grin spread wide across his face.

“Okay ya big sap,” you tease.

The afternoon wears on. You finally finish the book you’re reading and switch with Hannah, reapplying sunscreen and choosing to drink water over alcohol. Mat never strays too far from you, choosing to lay out and play on his phone while you read or fetch new water bottles as yours deplete. It’s sweet and Hannah makes sure to make a big deal of it when he leaves, poking you in the side with a sly grin.

Eventually you need to cool off and sure enough, Mat’s right behind you and volunteering you both for a game of chicken. It’s best out of 3 and you lose in the last round, Mat losing his footing and you both topple into the water, giggling. You can’t remember the last time you felt so carefree, at ease and not wanting or wishing for anything else. There’s no hurry for either of you to get out, so you both float around, chatting nonsense until Mat catches your ankle as you float past him.

“So,” he starts, and suddenly you know it’s kind of serious. “I know Charlotte brought the sandwiches, the jig is up. What uh- what haven’t you told me? If you don’t wanna tell me that’s fine, I just. Is it something bad? Should I be worried?”

You let yourself fall out of your floating position, trying to find footing in the bottom of the lake but come up empty, not realizing you’re so far out you can’t touch the bottom. Mat’s the nearest thing so you hold onto his shoulder, kicking your feet to stay afloat until he grabs you around the waist to hold you close.

“I, uh. I got a new job,” you tell him, nerves filling you up.

He’s puzzled and you can tell. “Okay? Why wouldn’t you wanna tell me that? That’s awesome. What is it?”

“It’s at a publishing house in Manhattan,” you take a deep breath, starting the spiel you’d been practicing for when you finally told him. “And I don’t know, I’ve been feeling a little weird about it? I didn’t want you to think I was following you or something but like, obviously it’s benn my dream job and I know you know that but-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You got a job in New York? That’s amazing, holy shit!” Mat pulls you to his front, squeezing you tight and relief floods you as wrap your arms around his neck.

For whatever reason, this was not how you pictured this going. You knew Mat- he didn’t like feeling stifled and that’s what you thought this decision felt like it might be to him, like you were encroaching on something that was his.

“Really?”

Mat pulls away, searching your face in confusion. “Yeah, of course. This is gonna fucking sick. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I-”

You’re interrupted as Hannah yells at the two of you from the shore, “Hey, we’re gonna start grilling. Justin says you need to help, Mat!”

“Ugh. Fine!”

You both swim to shore and before you part, Mat grabs your wrist. “Don’t think I’m done with this. I have questions,” he tells you, waiting for you to nod before letting go.

Settling back on your towel, you turn towards Hannah who you can feel burning holes into your side.

“Spit it out.”

“What was that all about? You two looked pretty cozy out there,” she teases.

You shrug, still not sure how you’re feeling. “I told him about the job, moving, all of it. He was excited but then I think he realized I’d been keeping it from him and he might be upset? I can’t tell.”

Hannah glances over at the grill and you follow her gaze, both of you watching Mat and Justin goof off and she shrugs at you. “Maybe he’s forgotten,” she offers and you can’t help the laugh that passes your lips.

“Fat chance.”

—

Everyone gathers together to eat and discuss plans for after the summer and you’re pointedly quiet, still not quite ready to share your news with everyone. Hannah’s known and now Mat knew and that felt like enough. You still had a week, it would be fine. They all give Mat shit for going back all the way across the country and you’re thankful he doesn’t say anything, just gives it right back and tells everybody they’re welcome to visit.

Once the weather starts to cool, everyone begins packing up. You’re still sat on your towel, wrapped in an old hoodie of Mat’s he’d grabbed you from the car earlier and Hannah comes to sit beside you, placing her head on your shoulder.

“Gonna miss you, ya know,” she tells you quietly.

It’s hard, trying to hold the tears that are threatening to fall and you sniffle. “I know. God, we have a week left. Stop making me emotional and go home,” you tell her, voice wet and you push her away lightly.

She clambers up, dusting the sand off her ass and wipes at her eyes. “Dinner tomorrow?”

“Obviously.”

She salutes you and you watch her make the trek back to the parking lot behind the beach before turning to find Mat. You find him easily enough, hugging a couple of friends goodbye and slapping them on the back. It’s easy for your mind to wander to when the time will come and you’ll all be doing different things, too busy to come together for the summers. Time filled with new families and friends.

Eventually, Mat makes his way back down to the beach and packs up what little is left: the rest of his White Claws and the couple of chairs you’d eventually brought down later in the day. He packs up the car but you’re not quite ready to leave, waiting for the sun to set.

Mat’s quiet when he sits beside you, picking at the corner of the towel, and you nudge his arm with yours. “I’m sorry for not saying something sooner about moving, I-”

He cuts you off, shaking his head. “No, you don’t need to apologize.”

There’s a pause, and you can see him trying to gather the thoughts he’s been holding onto since you told him the news a few hours ago.

“I think I just wish you’d felt like you could’ve told me,” he starts. “I didn’t even know you were looking at jobs out there. Like, we’d talked about it before years ago- you moving out there, but it always kind of seemed like a joke? And I guess it was, for a while anyway. But at some point I thought maybe you’d actually come out there and we could, I don’t know.” Mat shakes his head and you sigh, glancing towards the horizon of the setting sun and wonder if you’ve gotten something wrong here.

He continues, cutting his gaze towards you. “I guess I just thought at some point you’d actually make the move for real and we could finally try something.”

And oh.

Mat looks serious and you suddenly feel warm all over despite the chill taking over, the breeze from the water rushing over you and giving you goosebumps.

“Mat…”

“Was I crazy to think that?” He asks, earnest.

You shake your head quickly, hands sliding out from the sweater sleeves and you reach for him, intertwining your fingers. “No. Not crazy.”

Sitting there, you both watch the sun finally set in the sky, the beach awash in a hazy blue glow and Mat turns to you.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you answer without hesitation.

“Kiss me.”

The dare catches you off guard but Mat’s grinning, his smile stretched wide across his face and you lunge forward and press a kiss to his smiling lips.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal imagine #my writing #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic

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thoughtfulfiction · 5 months ago

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Hot in Herre

Author’s note: Here we are, I’ve been bitten by the Joe bug. My first Burrow fic and my first time in a LONG time not writing Justin so here we go!

“Oh baby, there’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of this. A bet is a bet remember?”

If looks could kill, you’d be long gone by the death glare that you’re met with. “This isn’t fair. How in the world did you eat that entire plate without reaching for your drink once? Monster.” He thinks his nose may be running and his lips are on fire but you seem to be relaxed and carefree sitting across from him on the couch. You pat him on the leg as a sign of pity, which you know he hates. You’re just celebrating your win appropriately, silently rubbing it in his face. You know it’d be much worse if the roles were reversed so you don’t feel as bad.

He carefully moves his leg out of your reach, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing his mini temper tantrum, all because of one little challenge that he didn’t win.

You scoot closer to him, grabbing his hand, “now Joseph, don’t be a sore loser.”

“Have you ever met me?” He cracks a smile, no matter how badly he doesn’t want to. You making small circles on his hand with your thumb almost always makes him melt, like putty in your hands, just for a second until he remembers his devastating loss. “Be honest with me,” he narrows his eyes, “how did you do it?”

Leaning in without breaking eye contact you whisper, “I will never reveal my secrets. And I’ll be making a reservation for two on Friday night so I expect you to be ready.” With a swift kiss on the cheek, you leave him stuck in his seat.

The day started out as any normal bye week Wednesday, Joe got up early to get a workout in, his body fully recovered from the recent beatings he’d taken during games, and spent most of the afternoon mulling over ever life choice he’s ever made on the couch or in his office. You could practically hears the gears turning in his brain, pondering the different scenarios that needed to happen in order for the Bengals to scratch and claw their way into the playoffs.

Of course you wanted to be a positive and supportive partner, a shoulder to cry on when needed and someone to bounce ideas off of, but the fact of the matter was that this may be a long shot and the season looked more over by the minute. Not that you would ever say that out loud. So instead, you suggested a little game for dinner, Joe’s second of the night and your first and only. Most of the time his eating schedule was hard to keep up with.

You knew that he loved spicy food and his chef just had some Carolina Reapers delivered, some of the hottest peppers he could find. Desperately trying to get him out of his head, you made two noodle dishes with the peppers, stating that the first person to take a drink loses. If he won, he’d get three uninterrupted video game nights a week whenever he wanted for a month. And if you won? A karaoke date.

Which led you to today and would explain Joe’s visceral reaction at the thought of singing. Or having any fun during a very NOT fun time in his life. Alas, you were determined to make this an enjoyable experience for everyone involved. Hopefully.

As much as Joe dreaded it, Friday came and it was time to go. He watched somewhat happily as you bounded down the stairs, snatching the keys on the counter and asking him if he was ready to leave. You could tell he wanted to ask you why he couldn’t drive, but he swallowed his pride and let himself be the passenger prince for once. This week was meant for relaxation, letting his hair down and stepping away from the disappointment of the team underperforming based on his and the entire NFL world’s expectations. The more time passed, the more people were starting to believe that maybe their best days were behind them. That 2021 playoff run was in the rear view mirror and the possibility of getting back to that caliber looked near impossible.

You spent the entire drive thinking about how the weight of it all was clearly weighing on him and you just wanted to help him lighten that load by doing something you both considered silly and meaningless. Joe’s unwavering focus and need for a routine during the season was impressive and admirable, but you needed to let him know this week that life was still full of little pleasures. You hoped that day would serve to remind him of that.

The two of you walked into the dimly lit room, ushered through the back where your private karaoke space awaited. Neon lights adorned the place and made you feel like you were in some coming of age film, except you already had the guy you wanted.

“This place is huge,” your boyfriend notes, looking around suspiciously. “It’s just gonna be the two of us, right? Because I’m not singing for an audience.”

“You play in front of 65,000 people at home games but THIS is where you draw the line?” You laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat on the leather couch with a water bottle firmly in hand. “That’s different, I spend all week getting prepared, studying my opponent, going to practice. It’s just football. This is…not my area of expertise.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to have fun.” Joe sighs at your words, glancing towards you slightly in awe as you mindlessly look through the song selection. You set your sights on the perfect song, gently grabbing the mic and getting yourself mentally prepared.

Joe playfully rolls his eyes at you tiny imitation of him meditating and getting in the zone before a game. “You ready?” He asks.

After a firm nod, you hear the music play, Chandelier by Sia blasting on the speakers. Joe had heard your rendition of the song in the shower on many occasions, but now he’d be listening to you on the big stage.

You loved having his full attention for a few hours, the way his icy blue eyes looked softer in this light, the way the smile reached his eyes when you sang a note a little off key and kept going…you might have even started singing a little louder to really drive the performance home. He gave you a standing ovation when you were done shaking his head as he laughed, the previous tension in his shoulders had disappeared and you were grateful because it was there so frequently you thought it had become permanent and he’d never relax again. But there he was, bright eyed and highly amused at your conviction in committing to the bit and your ability to never take yourself too seriously. It was one of his favorite things about you, the confidence you had in yourself and your ability to make those around you at ease. And he felt bad for not telling you enough how much that really meant to him. The least he could do now was give you the performance of a lifetime.

“Alright,” he sighs walking closer to you, grabbing the purple mic off the rack, “watch and learn.”

“Oh? The reluctant student has become the master. I like where this is going.” A subtle hint of his cocky demeanor sends shivers down your spine, and you try your best to ignore whatever is going on between your legs.

Even if you did try to tell anyone tonight happened, they wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way on earth that Joe Burrow actually got up and sang the entirety of Hot in Herre by Nelly without missing a single word. No chance. And yet…here you were witnessing a moment in history that fascinated and mesmerized you so much that you didn’t even reach for your phone to record it. Living in the moment, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you waist, pulling you in so that your bodies were close enough to use the same mic while you did the ad-libs was everything you could’ve asked for, and more, out of this karaoke date night.

When the music stopped playing, you were too gobsmacked to even laugh let alone form a coherent thought. “Where the hell did that come from?”

He’s always keeping you on your toes, that’s for sure, but this came out of left field. Way left.

“I don’t know,” he laughs, parking himself next to you running his fingers through his barely there blond tips. “Saw you have fun with it and I just thought, why not do the same?”

“Well I’m very impressed. And I think we should do another song.”

So you did, for the next hour. Kid Cudi was on the Setlist of course, a little Beyoncé thrown in there and by the end of your reserved time neither of you could remember the last time you’d laughed as hard or as often during football season. All of that just reenforced the fact that he really needed tonight.

You let Joe drive the two of you home, feeling him pause before pulling out of the parking lot.

“What’s on your mind?” Your voice was gentle, soothing him and making seemingly all of his problems vanish into the night.

He grabs your hand over the center console, looking over with so much love in his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you. For today. For—for everyday. I know this isn’t the most fun time and I haven’t been the easiest or most fun to be around but, you’re always here for me and I appreciate that more than I can say out loud. So this is me…trying to be better.”

“Honey, I am so proud of you. Just couldn’t keep sitting there, letting you blame yourself for everything that’s going wrong. You deserve the world and I can’t give you that but I can give you goofy little date nights. I hope that’s enough.”

The quarterback smiles, letting one hand rest on your cheek, “it’s more than enough. I just wish I could do more for the team you know? I don’t play defense but maybe I’m not leading them enough or motivating guys to be at their best?”

“No, stop. A year ago you were about to have season ending wrist surgery that no quarterback has ever gone through before. Now you’re statistically the best quarterback in the league and you’re playing the best you’ve ever played in your entire life. I know you’re not happy with where the team is at but you should be over the moon about how far you’ve come and how far you can go. I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that.”

You can tell he’s about to open his mouth to downplay your words so you continue before he can put a stop to it. “If your performance post injury isn’t enough of an example or enough of a motivation tactic then that’s on them. You are putting your best foot forward daily and if they aren’t matching that energy then things need to change. Things that don’t include you. I may be biased but I think you’re perfect,” you give him a peck on the lips, feeling the smile on the corner of his mouth beginning to form.

He put the car in the drive, shaking his head. “You’re just saying that because I sang Nelly for you.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. I’m just very glad I won the bet.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic

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tragicallyuncreative · 11 days ago

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Sodapop and Ponyboy don’t necessarily like watching sports on TV, but they like watching Darry watch sports. Darry is that guy. We all know one. He’s hollering at the TV and standing an inch from the screen and despite his life being an absolute dumpster fire, he’s acting like this game is single-handedly the most important thing in the world and it will make or break his whole week. “Are you shittin’ me?! Why would he put Johnson in? He’s the weakest player!!! Foul! That’s a foul! C’mon ref, the fuck are you doing? Call it!” God forbid anyone try to talk to him or interrupt him during a particularly intense play. He will be pissed. Once Dally pulled the plug to the TV during a critical point in the playoffs and Darry practically beat the shit out of him. He likes watching football and baseball best. Ponyboy of course likes watching track, but he also really likes soccer and basketball, though he likes watching in person much more than watching on TV. Soda, bless him, could care less about any of it, but when his brothers are playing in a sporting event? He’s the loudest cheerleader of them all.

#the outsiders #the outsiders musical #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #dallas winston #tragicallyuncreativewrites #the curtis brothers #inspired by me watching the final four #my poor neighbors #Duke was so close 😭#duke blue devils

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wondrluv · 9 months ago

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୨୧ negative feelings ; nh13

➪ summary: after another loss, nico begins to think the captain spot just isn't for him

➪ warnings: nico thinks he's a shitty captain, nico has negative thoughts, the 23-24 devils (real)

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ emma's notes: this was so hard to go back and read, i felt so bad for him after this game. anyway, justice for nico next year fr

One after the other the Lightning scored. Devils bounced back once, twice, three times but it wasn’t good enough. Would anything he did be good enough? Was he doing enough as captain? Was he pushing them as hard as he should be pushing them? Was he contributing to their loss? Was he the reason?

All those thoughts plagued Nico’s mind as he walked back through the tunnel both upset and embarrassed with his team’s performance. He wasn’t sure if he was mad enough to break something, most likely his stick, or if he was embarrassed enough to hide from the crowds and the fans on the internet.

He felt disgusting, beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead, and his hair greasy and sweaty as well. He could feel how he smelled as he took off his gear and threw it into the cubby. He attempted to calm himself, taking a deep breath just as she taught him but it wasn’t working.

He felt annoyed, frustrated, and angry as he did post-game, all these feelings were sitting up front in his mind, ready to flow out of his mouth as he answered questions.

“Disappointing, I’m embarrassed a bit, to be honest. We got outworked, outplayed in such a big game. The way we performed is embarrassing.”

“I wish I could answer that, just not good enough. I have to calm down here and think about it. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“I hope everybody thinks about what team they want to be a part of coming down the stretch. If we want to be a playoff team, we have to figure something out.”

He finished getting change, gears reeling in his mind as he put his suit jacket back on. He was the last one out of the locker room and with it being All-Star break, he was glad he didn’t have to look at anything even remotely hockey-related for a while.

He saw her in the distance, pacing back and forth. It was an unusual look for her, usually, she was the calm one in the relationship. In reality, she was nervous about how to calm Nico down. From the moment the Lightning scored those two goals she knew how much Nico would be blaming himself.

She locked eyes with him after two minutes of him just standing there staring at her, “You ready?”

He just nodded, running his hand through his hair again. She sighed and held out her arm for him which he took immediately, his hand intertwining with hers. She gave his hand a squeeze and he retaliated with one of his one, walking in silence to her car. Nico was in no state to drive so she opened the passenger door for him, allowing him to climb in.

She took a deep breath after shutting the door and making her way to the driver's side. As she rounded the front of her car she looked at him through the front windshield, he looked disheveled. He looked sad, dejected. She hadn’t seen him look like this in a while, maybe even ever. She opened the driver's side door and climbed in herself, turning on the radio and adjusting her mirrors as if she hadn’t been the one driving before.

She played lo-fi music on their back to her hotel, Nico already had planned to stay the night with her. The car ride was silent besides the soft beats coming from the speakers and the raindrops hitting the car. She had the air conditioning on low, it was 70 degrees in Flordia. She had taken her jacket off, handing it to Nico who held it close to his chest.

Halfway through the drive, she glanced over at her boyfriend to see that he had now taken his suit jacket off and wrapped himself in hers. Nico’s eyes were looking everywhere but at her, not even daring to risk the chance of their eyes locking again. He knew the second they did, he would blow a fuse or start bawling his eyes out.

When they got to the hotel, y/n pulled into the closest spot possible. They sat there for a few minutes, both of them debating on what they wanted to do. She looked at her boyfriend, eyes saddened by how he looked, “You ready to go up?”

He hadn’t spoken a word since he finished post-game, not wanting to say anything he would regret later, so he just nodded. They both exited the car and walked into the hotel and to the elevators. Nico reached for her hand when they got into the elevator and it started to move up. She gave him a soft smile, tightening her hold on his hand.

They walked to her room, y/n swiping her card and opening the door wide for him. They stood in the entranceway of the room, both silent and looking around. She looked at him as she threw her keys on the counter and went to take his suit jacket out of his hands, her jacket still lying around his shoulders.

“You gonna go take a shower, baby?”

He nodded slightly, giving her all the strength he could muster right now. She sighed again and nodded, kissing him on his shoulder before rubbing his back. Before he could get far, y/n handed him the clothes that she had brought down for him. He smiled a very small, but grateful, smile at her before turning around and walking into the bathroom.

She let him be for a few minutes, changing into her clothes before knocking on the door realizing that the shower wasn’t running yet, “Neeks?”

He let out a very soft and deep ‘hmm’ as he stopped whatever he was doing, “Is there anywhere specific you want to eat.”

He sighed, “I’m not really hungry.”

She frowned at his words, worry seeping deep into her brows, “I know, honey, but you got to eat something.”

He didn’t sound frustrated when he spoke, he knew she was right but he just wanted to go to bed, “I’m not hungry, y/n.”

She was slightly taken aback by the use of her name, he never called her that. She looked up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes, “Okay. I’m going to order some food just in case you want to eat later.”

He didn’t say anything after that, turning on the shower. When she heard the water running she walked away from the door and sat on the bed, toying with the edge of her pajama pants. She turned on the TV, scrolling to find anything remotely interesting to watch.

She ordered pizza, one of the simpler things to get delivered, and one that was open this late at night. She played along with the Game Show Network, Family Feud was on right now. She looked up when she heard the bathroom door click open. Nico stepped out, his gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and his t-shirt was clutched in his hands. He walked over to the bed, looking at the TV to see what was on.

He crawled onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s hips, and laying his head in her lap. Y/n ran her hand through his now freshly washed hair. She almost cried herself when she felt her pant leg dampening from tears, “Honey…”

“It’s my fault, y/n. I can’t lead this team to the victory we need. I can’t do anything. I can’t fucking shoot. I can’t score. I can’t- I can’t-” His breathing picked up and y/n lifted his head from her lap, making him sit up so she could look at him face to face.

She cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer to hers, “Breathe, honey. It’s okay, just focus on me okay? It’s gonna pass, I promise.”

A few breaths later, his breathing regulated into its usual pattern, “I’m gonna need you to listen to me, Nico.”

He nodded his head but didn’t look into her eyes, “Look at me Neeks.”

He did, his eyes gazing into hers causing him to tear up again, “It is not your fault, you hear me? I cannot tell you how amazing you have been doing for this team. This team would not be the same without you. Remember when you got hurt back in October? They were not at their best.”

“That’s because-”

“No. It had nothing to do with Jack. Even when Jack came back they still weren’t playing well but as soon as you came back you went what? 8 and 2 in 10 games. You have done nothing but keep this team and their good spirits up. You are the core of this team, Nico. They cannot do it without you. So what people say differently. Screw what they say, hell even screw what Lindy says.

“You cannot bring yourself down because of what the team couldn’t do. Sure you can go on and on about how you could’ve helped them practice or given them advice but at the end of the day, they are in charge of their own performance. Do not let people bring you down because you are better than that.”

Nico held tears in his eyes, starting to slowly believe her. Those negative feelings that had hit him at the end of the game left his mind and he just buried his head into her chest, letting her run her hands through his hair and rub slow circles on his back.

“I love you, and I am so so so proud of you.”

He sniffled, “Thank you. I love you too.”

She kissed his head and moved him to lie down under the covers of the bed. Nico let himself be fully encompassed in her arms with the soft noise of the TV still playing in the background.

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 8 months ago

Note

Could you do 21 and 25 with Quinn Hughes ❤️‍🔥

I am gonna be honest I have no idea how your prompt turning into this 🤣🤣. I guess I really am Quinn Hughes Whore.(if you have been here that long to understadn that reference I love you)

200 Followers Celebration

"Wait - uh - do... do that again." "Fuck - uh! I love it when you touch me like that"

"Quinny" you whisper in his ear, you know that he focused on his computer. He's rewatching old clips of games, not his games, opponents games during playoffs studying them to help figure out the best way to beat them in upcoming season. He doesn't pause the video not right away but at least makes a sound of acknowledgement that he did in fact hear you. "why don't you take a break?" you whisper starting to kiss down his neck trying to distract him. Listen if it wasn't for him being on his third hour 3 days in a row you would of left him alone. But it isn't healthy to obsess espically this early on, before preseason even started.

"baby I'm trying to focus" is all he says, but his arm does wrap around you pulling you just a little bit closer. Your clit in your jean shorts rubbing against his sweats.

"wait - uh - do... do that again." you ask. Not sure if its the angle or the fact that you are just really horny but the contrast of materials had you wanting more.

"do what?" suddenly turning his attention to you, with a smirk on his face. "I haven't even touched you and your already begging me." the smugness in his voice only becoming more clear with each word.

"please Quinny" you begg. "It's been so long." trying to get him to give in.

A deep laugh leaves his lips deep from his chest. "baby I fucked you this morning in the shower." he reasons.

"yeah that was like 12 hours ago." pouting looking down, suddenly embarrassed at Quinn pointing out that it hasn't even been a day and your body is already craving more.

He takes his hand that isn't wrapped around you and puts his index finger under your chin. Forcing yourself to look up at him. "How about we make a deal?" he softly asks. Shaking your head yes, he continues. "I do need to finish this film, but I am not evil baby. How about you use my thigh to get off. Then once your done, I promise to take a real break." Whispering the last part in your ear, as his hand starts leaving ghostly touches down your body. "and fuck the shit outta you until you'll be begging me to stop."

Shaking your head, you go to straddle his left thigh, your right knee as close as it can be to his dick. His eyes back to focus on his computer, as you start to roll your hips. Softly moaning at the feeling alone but also at the fact that Quinn was completely ignoring you focused on his work. Suddenly you made it your mission to distract him, even if you knew you would be punished for it later you wanted to know how far you could go with him ignoring you.

"Ahh Quinn fuck yeah." rolling your hips faster then before, pushing your boobs slightly in front of his face. Taking your hand that wasn't wrapped around his neck for support, you put it under your shirt, greatful you were too lazy to wear a bra today. "ahh right there baby. please." you continue. Opening your eyes barely you see Quinn was still ignoring you, you decided to turn it up a level.

"Quinny please." Taking his hand that was looslely wrapped around your waist, putting his hand on your ass, forcing him to palm it. He continued to palm it but still didn't look at you. Now it really was becoming a game of who would give in first. Looking down you got a new idea.

Removing your hand from under your shirt, you glance at Quinn again, still focused on the game, you have to stop yourself form rolling your eyes as you go to leave light touches on his already hard member.

"fffuucckkk." he lets out his head throwing back automatically to the back of the coach. "why can't you ever just fucking listen."

"please I need you, and you need me too." you try to reason.

Finally he decides to help you, removing your shirt, one of your boobs goes into his mouth and you cry in ecstasy. "fuck - uh! I love it when you touch me like that." As he takes your one leg and moves it so your straddling his lap, controlling your rolls as you start to dry hump.

"please don't stop." you beg "i'm so close please. can i-" you start. "can I come Quinny?" you ask, knowing it turns him on when you ask for permission.

Removing himself from your boob, he looks at you, his pupils blown with lust. "I don't know how you been a good girl?" he asks. His mouth going to bite already purple hickies from this morning, causing you to make a sound mixed between a cry and moan.

"Please Quuuinnnyyy." draggin his name out.

"hmm" he says like he's really sitting their fucking debating this shit, when you feel like your able to explode.

"what's the magic word baby."

"please." you say

'no no no"

"please daddy." you beg.

"okay baby go ahead." he says and you swear you see stars as you finally let yourself go, Quinn close behind you.

#200 followers celebration #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes blurb #hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #schwritingsqh43

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doc-pickles · 2 years ago

Text

sick day | mat barzal

summary: Mat comes home from a roadie and takes care of his family

warnings: throwing up, so much fluff

a/n: y’all asked for dad Mat! enjoy this fluffy piece!

xoxo

nina

Mat was just coming off a four day roadie when you called. The plane had just touched down in New York and he’d turned his phone on only to find you calling.

“Hey baby, we just landed.”

“Mat don’t come home.”

Your words made Mat freeze, Tito looking at him in concern as his face dropped.

“W-what? Baby whatever it is we can-“

“No, no, no,” you rushed out as you realized what Mat thought. “No, god not like that. I’m sorry. We all have the stomach flu and I don’t want you getting sick. All three of us having been throwing up since yesterday morning.”

Mat let out a breath of relief as he leaned back into his seat, “I’m still coming home baby. If you’re all sick I want to take care of you.”

“But you have playoffs right around the corner and I-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Mat’s answer has you heaving a sigh, knowing that arguing with him would be useless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Half an hour later Mat walked through the front door just as your five year old son Luca puked into the bowl on his lap. You groaned as Rosie, your two year old, burrowed further into your chest with a pained moan. You met Mat’s eyes over their heads and sighed, “Welcome to the fun house.”

Mat dropped his bags by the door and toed his shoes off before going to help Luca. Once he was done throwing up Mat gathered him in his arms and took him upstairs for a bath. You and Rosie both dozed off, your shirt tightly clutched in her hands as she lightly snored.

When you woke up again Rosie was gone and Mat was just coming down the stairs. He smiled at you before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Both kids are bathed and sleeping. How are you feeling mama?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groaned as Mat pulled you into his lap. “Stop, I’m all sweaty and gross and I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I just wanna hold my wife,” Mat groaned as he pulled you closer. “I haven’t seen you in four days.”

You gave up your struggling and settled into Mat’s hold, “And I spent a lot of that time puking my guts out.”

“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll watch out for the kids,” you eyed Mat skeptically but he simply met you with an eye roll. “I can handle them babe. Go take care of yourself.”

You begrudgingly walked upstairs, but you couldn’t fight Mat’s thinking as the warm water of the bath soothed your aching muscles. You stayed in far longer than you should have but after getting out you felt a hundred times better.

When you finally trekked back downstairs Rosie was settled on Mat’s hip as he cleared the dishes in the sink. Luca was bundled up on the couch, so you went over to him and pulled him into your lap.

“How are your feeling bubba,” you pressed a kiss to his dark hair as he snuggled close to you. His forehead didn’t feel as warm as earlier so you took that as a win.

“‘m feeling better,” Luca mumbled as he held on tightly to you. “Daddy made toast and I didn’t frow it up.”

You looked up and Mat met your eye over both of your kids heads. He smirked and you swore your heart beat a little faster. You truly couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone but Mat.

The rest of the day went by easily. You all curled up on the couch to watch a movie, Rosie clinging to Mat and refusing to move. Not that Mat was complaining, his daughter tucked in his side as he ran his fingers through her dark curls.

When Luca mentioned that he was hungry Mat was up in an instant to make soup for everyone. Rosie still clung to his chest as he moved around the kitchen and told her everything he was doing. By the time everything was finished Rosie was asleep, arms still tightly wrapped around Mat’s neck.

“I’m gonna go put her down and then I’ll get you both some soup,” Mat leaned down to kiss Luca’s forehead then yours before he headed upstairs with Rosie.

The soup was the perfect thing for your still uneasy stomach. Luca even had a second bowl which made Mat beam with pride. The recipe was from his mom, something he had asked her for the first time Luca had come down with a bad cold. It was a tradition at this point to make it on sick days and you couldn’t complain.

When Luca began to drift off at the table Mat took him upstairs and put him to bed. You began tidying up the kitchen, carefully washing out dishes when Mat came back, “Let me finish cleaning babe.”

“But I-“

“You’re still sick. Go lay down, I’ll be up in a minute,” Mat pressed a kiss to your temple before pushing you towards the stairs with a playful swat to your butt.

You took time to do your nighttime routine, feeling better than you had in days. By the time Mat came upstairs you were tucked under the covers and half asleep.

“C’mere baby,” Mat whispered as he slid into bed, arms stretched out toward you. “I missed sleeping next to you.”

You gladly scooted across the bed and settled onto Mat’s chest, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub your back, “Thank you for taking care of us today.”

“That’s my job,” Mat mumbled into your hair. “I promised you in sickness and in health. Just trying to stay true to my vows.”

As you both drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how grateful you were to have Mat by your side.

#mat barzal #Mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #Mat barzal fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nina writes

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imaginesig · 11 months ago

Text

"Ditch the clowns, get the crown / Baby, I'm the one to beat"

Pt. 2 of “Can someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived”

Lewis Hamilton x ex!reader (barely)

Joe Burrow x singer!reader

SMAU

What happened between the breakup and Y/n's release of "The Tortured Poets Department: Eros." Once again I stole this entire story line from Taylor Swift. The timeline doesn't line up perfectly with the original but I do what I want

Yn_updates

Liked by user4, user83, user92, and 920,092 others

Yn_updates: after the drop of TTPD Y/n was seen at the Cincinnati’s Bengals game today!!

tagged: yn_ln

user1: she rlly said, bye futbol and went back to her roots

user2 it’ll always be Y/n and her little drink against the world

user3 chat what is going on

user4 I need Twitter to get working on a timeline bc the breakup album just dropped, but we think her and Lewis might have been broken up for a while before she went on break, but now she’s writing for a new man who is possible on either the Bengals??

yn_updates

liked by user98, user3, user1, and 928,282 others

yn_updates: Y/n at the last regular season Bengals game!

tagged: yn_ln

user1 ugh why does her break have to end before playoffs!! I don't want her to miss any games!!

user3 same! I've enjoyed seeing her and her fits

user2 even if it didnt the Bengals aren't predicted to go far this year

user4 I NEED to know what's happening bc there is no way she just up and decided to attend football games this religously

user5 and they're not just any football games, Bengals games. she didnt even grow up a Bengals fan, she was raised a Titan's fan

yn_ln

liked by user43, gracieabrams, sabrinacarpender, and 928,923 others

Yn_ln: Ugh South America!! Y’all are as beautiful as sparkling lights at midnight!! Big kisses to you all!! 🫶🫶

tagged: no one

user1 ahh best night of my life!!!

user2 she was so giddy and happy tonight

user3 im glad someone else noticed

user4 guys the surprise songs tonight where the first ones since the breakup about Lewis that she wasn't mad or sad

user5 was Lewis in attendance? Are my parents back together??

user6 nope, while Y/n was giggling her way through Delicate Lewis was attempting to overtake Lando in Italy

user7 we all see her smile right??

user8 I NEED to know who was behind it

user9 I've been searching but as of right now no one other than family and close friends were in the VIP tents

user10 when she sang it seemed like she directed it in one area of the crowd not the tents, so maybe this mystery person was on the floor

user11 normally I would call this theory crazy but people who were there said it was clear the second surprise song was clearly aimed at someone in the audience, but no ones been identified yet...

joeyb_9

liked by user93, lahhay10_, teehigins, and 823,929 others

joeyb_9: "You look like bad news, I gotta have you" or sum

tagged: lahjay10_

User12 HE DID NOT

user1 WHAT

user2 guys is this who I think it was

user3 my worlds just collided

lahya10_ great night- one for the books!

joeyb_9 you got that right

user4 OMG JOEY B AND J'MARR AT A Y/N CONCERT??

user5 im assuming we're all thinking the same thing...

user6 they were on the floor too, not in tents

user7 J'marr only posted a story about the night and didnt dress up, so it has to be Joe

user8 THE CAPTION HELLO

user9 brother thinks putting "or sum" makes it less obvious

user10 what if he's just a girl like us with hyper specific captions

user11 the fact that he dressed up on theme for the concert made him 10x hotter

bengals

liked by yn_ln, joeyb_9, user5, and 678, 982 others

bengals: "It's been a long time coming..." 🏆

tagged: no one

user1 admin you aint slick 🤨

user2 AND THE BENGALS ARE SUPER BOWL CHAMPS WHOOO

user3 AHHH DID ANYONE ELSE SEE Y/N'S FACE AT THE END

user4 her face?? Babe I saw her whole body go flying up when they won!

user5 ugh she's a good luck charm across all sports

User6 but this time the man backed her up with his own skill…

User7 damn Y/n fans switch up quick

joeyb_9

liked by yn_ln, teehiggins, bengals, and 918,289 others

joeyb_9: WE'RE CHAMPS BABY

tagged: bengals, yn_ln

yn_ln so proud!!

joeyb_9 ♥️

lahjay10_ HELL YEAH BROTHER

joeyb_9 💪💪

teehiggins that’s how we do!!

joeyb_9 that's how we do 👏👏

User1 OMG HIM AND Y/N???

User2 their celebrations were adorable!!

user3 I’m glad after all the speculation they’ve made it official \

user4 He is not afraid of showing her off🥹

user5 it makes me so happy for her

yn_ln

liked by joeyb_9, user93, user3, and 928,928 others

yn_ln: I'm with the winning team

tagged: joeyb_9

joeyb_9 so much better than a good luck charm ♥️

yn_ln ♥️♥️

user1 Lewis punching the air rn

user2 fr, she really called him a loser with the caption

user3 lmao I love shady Y/n

user4 HER AND JOE?? THATS THE CUTEST PIC EVER

user5 IKR

user6 THEY'VE BEEN PUBLIC FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS AND THEY ALREADY MAKE ME FEEL SO LONELY

user7 is she with the winning team or are they the winning team??

user8 y/n and Joe >>>

Yn_ln

liked by user79, user91, user91, and 918,901 others

Yn_ln: surprise!! "The Tortured Poets Department: Eros" out now!! This edition includes two new songs, "So High School" and "The Alchemy"

tagged: no one

comments have been disabled

Twitter post songs release:

Twitter first Paris show:

yn_ln

liked by joeyb_9, user82, landonorris, and 829,927 others

yn_ln: Fuck me up *Paris*!!!

tagged: no one

user1 AHHH TTPD SET WAS INCREDIBLE

user2 ugh buying more tickets now bc I HAVE to see the new set

User3 all the symbols I CANT

User4 she looked so stunning

User5 I cannot y’all Joe was there!!!!

user6 I lost my mind at all their moments!! Hes so shameless unlike Lewis

User7 Paris was so lucky!!

user8 it was adorable to see Joe smiling and SINGING all throughout the show, including his songs/TTPD set

user9 ahhh the singing got me!!! her exes would never

user10 all the friendship bracelets her received and wore-- he was so cute

user11 I love that he has arms full and refused to relive himself of any!!

joeyb_9

liked by yn_ln, user9, yn_updates, and 918,928 others

joeyb_9: Baby, you're the one to beat ♥️

tagged: yn_ln

comments have been limited

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@swifth0lic

@erbri3r

#cincinnati bengals #bengals x reader #joe burrow imagines #Joe burrow #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #Joe burrow smau #football x reader #football smau #nfl #nfl draft #nfl imagine

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cincybengals09 · 3 months ago

Text

BENGALS RECAPPED:

What a melancholy feeling.

We have reached the end of the road for the Bengals' 2024 season. It is a season that has had many highs and many lows. Joe finishes with the most passing yards, Trey finishes with most sacks (the first time a Bengal has accomplished this), Ja'Marr wins the triple crown and for the fourth year in a row the Bengals finish with a winning record. There are moments in games we capitalised on and moments we should've. These moments where we didn't are accountable for the close losses that made up our arguably underwhelming season, but yet we were so close, and that is what hurts. There is no point dwelling on these moments as there is nothing we can do to change the outcome; we could only try to rectify it in the late season. Hopefully, the Bengals, as a team and organisation, can learn and adapt from these mistakes during the off-season.

Although we didn't reach the playoffs, there is still much to luck forward to. In a few weeks, we will see some of our players at the Pro-Bowl in Orlando, where I'm sure we'll see the strong connection between Burrow and Ja'Marr utilised in an attempt to beat the NFC. The off-season will definitely be an interesting time for the team as well. The organisation will need/want to sign Hendrickson and Chase to a new contract, and then they will have to decide whether to keep Tee Higgins and the implications this may have on the Bengals' squad and cap space.

For the 2025 season, I hope we can improve the defence and once again, it looks like the O-line isn't sufficient and whether to improve both or either of these aspects it may require changes in coaching and personalle. I think it will be interesting to see what the Bengals' front office's priorities will be in the draft and off-season. Hopefully, we can emerge next season as a real contender in the AFC and continue the offensive prowess.

See you soon 👋

Who dey! 🖤🧡

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silentscrying · 6 months ago

Text

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, so many character cameos, denial is a river in egypt, chaos. || sfw. 2.4k words.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE Utahime's not in this welcome party," Gojo grumbles as you descend the steps off the jet. You just snort, and then Yuji skips the last three steps and starts running across the tarmac. Nitta, despite your insistence that she didn't need to, has met you at the airport along with two of the Samurai players.

“Christ,” you say as Yuji drops his bag on the ground, leaving it unattended.

“Choso!” he shouts, practically leaping onto the player on Nitta’s right. The taller man has a mess of brown hair wrangled into space buns, and he ruffles Yuji’s hair when he sets him down.

“Good to see you before we beat your ass.”

The man beside Choso opens his arms expectantly. “No love for your brother?”

“Todo.” Choso crosses his arms. “I’m actually his brother.”

“Half,” Todo retorts.

“Half is more than you.”

“We’re bonded by the college oath,” Todo says solemnly, pulling Yuji into a hug.

“Kari!” you yell, and she grins and meets you halfway. “Oh my god. It’s been too long.”

Akari Nitta, your small forward in college and also your senior year roommate. “I missed you,” she says as she pulls you into a hug. “How’re the Sorcerers? You like it there, they treat you well?”

“Good, yeah. I’m happy,” you say, honestly. “You?”

Akari’s been with the Samurai for four consecutive seasons now, and you already know she has no intention of leaving. She loves it there, loves the team, and you can’t deny how excited you are for this round of the competition.

It’s the best kind of game, you think, when the teams are evenly matched and actually respect one another. But you’re still worried—the issue now isn’t that they’ll play dirty, like the Phantoms. It’s that they’re good. Really good.

“Nitta,” Kento greets, holding out a hand. “Good to see you.” He glances over her shoulder, at where Yuji is talking animatedly with Choso and Todo.

“You too, Nanami.” Nitta follows his gaze and chuckles. “Haibara’s wrangling the rest of them at practice. I said family only, and then Todo basically forced himself into the car. At some point it’s just easier not to fight him.” Kento chuckles and nods at Nitta before falling back in with the rest of the team.

Haibara played for the Sorcerers before getting traded a couple of years back. You don’t know him personally, but you know your team is very fond of him. Ieiri catches up with you and strikes up a conversation with Nitta, and the three of you follow the team through a wide hangar and to the line of vehicles waiting outside.

“Still think you should’ve stayed with me,” Akari tells you as you board the bus that’s taking you and the team to the hotel.

You grin. “It’d be preferable. But I have to babysit.” She laughs and squeezes you on the shoulder before pulling Choso and Todo away from Yuji, herding them back into the car to get back to their own team.

You watch the old city go by through the bus window, thankful you don’t have to try to navigate driving the streets of Savannah yourself during rush hour. The scattered horse-drawn carriages and swarms of warm-weather tourists punctuate every street corner, and though it’s nowhere near the same extent as the chaos of New York, you don’t envy the ones who have to focus on the roads instead of the river, running silvery-blue in the evening light.

Gojo briefly tries to sing again in the back of the bus, and he only gets as far as “concrete jung—” before somebody silences him with a thud that you assume is a backpack, if his offended squawk is anything to go by.

"What part of this place looks like concrete to you?" Megumi asks dryly.

Even the day before the game, you see Samurai jerseys and hats dotting the sidewalks, a few flags hung in the doorways of shops.

First seed, you think, staring out the window at the slowly darkening streets. You hope the team can pull through.

—

Iori Utahime is looking at Gojo like she’s going to castrate him on the spot.

“Utahiiiime!” he sings. “It’s been so long!”

“Not long enough,” she says, crossing her arms and turning up her chin. Long, purple-streaked hair falls past her shoulders, the back tied up in a bow you’ve never seen her without. “Any chance you’re less of a menace than you used to be?”

“No,” says a voice from behind you, and you’ve never seen a person’s entire countenance shift so quickly as Utahime catches sight of Ieiri and immediately breaks into a grin. She sprints toward her, launching into her arms.

“Shoko!” she shrieks, and Ieiri laughs and wraps her arms around her. “I missed you!”

“Utahime,” she says warmly. “How’ve you been?”

They launch into conversation—or, Utahime launches into conversation while Ieiri smiles pleasantly and nods along—and Gojo is forced to abandon his quest to annoy Utahime in favor of actually doing his job and playing basketball.

“She just doesn’t get me like you do,” he whispers on his way past.

“I don’t get you,” you retort, but he’s already gone.

The atmosphere in the Samurai stadium is entirely different than the rest of the games you’ve been to—this is a rivalry, sure, but a friendly one. Players greet each other across the court, the boys ecstatic to be reunited with Haibara, and the fans seem to be aware of the connections across the two teams. There’s significantly less hostility than you’ve gotten used to as the Sorcerers are introduced.

You catch a glimpse of blue hair in the front row of the home side and realize Kasumi Miwa is here. She’s already attracting quite a bit of attention, a massively successful WNBA player herself. You played with her in college, too, but you know she’s here for their point guard, Kokichi Muta.

Gojo stands at center court, ready to take the tip-off against Noritoshi, the other Kamo on the Samurai. You don’t remember quite how he’s related to Choso, but it’s amusing just how intertwined all the players on the court are right now.

For a second you think Kamo’s going to win the tip-off, but Gojo’s arm shoots up out of nowhere and then he’s running with the ball. He darts around Kamo and passes to Yuji, and the Sorcerers are 2-0 within the first thirty seconds of the game.

And then Haibara gets one in, and they’re tied. And then Gojo nails a three-pointer. And then Choso does, too.

Your neck is starting to hurt from how much you’re snapping it back and forth, both ends of the court in constant play as the advantage shifts every other minute. Megumi isn’t starting today, and you can feel his anxiety even from your place near the hall doors.

This game is insane.

Toward the end of the first quarter, Megumi subs in for Toge, and the second he hits the court he plays as if he never left. Kento lobs the ball his way and Megumi scores another three, and then Ino slips by Todo and leaps, fingers almost touching the hoop as the ball slams in.

It’s one of the tightest games you’ve seen in a long time. They’re always within five points of one another, back and forth, back and forth. The Sorcerers are leading at halftime by two, but it’s not a lead anyone is confident in.

While the team is back in the locker room, you slip over to the home side to talk to Kasumi. She grins and tugs you into a hug. “Alley-oop!”

You laugh, the stupid nickname so familiar falling from her lips. “Kasumi!” You pull back and smile. “How’re the Shadows? Do you love it? You fucking killed it this last season.”

She flushes a little, never having been big on accepting compliments. “Ah, I’ve got a great team.”

You arch a brow. “And they’re lucky to have you.” Taking mercy on her, you switch the subject. “So things with Kokichi are going well.”

She gets that dreamy look in her eyes, and you decide Kasumi and Muta are maybe the only couple you’ll accept being this fucking sappy all the time. They’ve been together since your senior year of college, and you’re pretty sure the basketball gods made them for each other.

“I think he’s gonna propose soon,” Kasumi whispers, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a squeal.

“Kasumi,” you gasp.

She giggles. “Don’t say anything. He just can’t keep secrets from me. He’s not slick.”

You mime zipping your mouth and tossing the key, and she pretends to unzip it as she asks, “What about you? How are things in the Southeast?”

“Hot,” you say. “Humid. Busy. But good.”

“And Gojo?”

You blink. “Gojo?”

“Uh, y’know, star player, six three, easy on the eyes?” She raises her eyebrows like she knows something, and the implications hit you all at once.

“Oh my god, Kasumi.”

She blinks innocently. “Reunited after three long, long years. No romanticism in that?”

“We work together,” you hiss, which feels like a gross understatement. “And he’s…”

She raises a brow, waiting. You can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks. It’s such a ridiculous notion that you don’t even have a proper response.

“I honestly think he just became tolerable,” you say. “God, I wouldn’t date—”

“Oh, you say that now,” she says, a smug curve to her lips.

“What does that—”

“Oh, look at the time.” You follow Kasumi’s gaze to where the players have started filing back into the gym. “Back to your coworker, you.”

“Kasumi Miwa—”

“I love you too!” she beams. “Good to see you. Really.”

Rolling your eyes, you wave your left hand at her, pointing discreetly at your ring finger as you retreat across the gym. You watch as the bright red returns to her cheeks and return her smug grin from earlier.

God. Easy on the eyes.

It’s not like Gojo’s not attractive. Girls fawn over him and you can understand why, objectively. Tall, strong, all lean muscle, those stupidly bright blue eyes and whiter-than-white hair. But he’s one of those guys who’s just hot until he opens his mouth.

Even if he hasn’t been quite as annoying lately, the natural progression of a conversation about Kasumi’s soon-to-be-fiancé should not be to start talking about Satoru Gojo.

On the sidelines, he winks at you, and your roll your eyes but have to turn away before he sees the heat rising to your cheeks. Not helping right after Kasumi decided to put those thoughts in your head.

Fucking hell. What’s wrong with you?

You shake off the encounter as the game starts back up. You might’ve had the lead before the half, but the Samurai come back strong. Very strong. Todo is impossible to get around, he’s everywhere at once, and Muta is making shots from insane distances while Choso just keeps dunking. The disadvantage to having played with Haibara is that he knows the way the team plays, and he seems to have relayed whatever tips he can to his teammates.

But it goes both ways. Kento knows every shot Haibara will take before it happens, and Yuji and Todo are so tuned into each other’s movements that they can’t get the jump on the other.

It’s insane and it’s stressful but it’s damn good basketball. With damn good people, too. Yuta gets knocked down and Todo helps him back up. Choso keeps making faces at Yuji across the court. When Choso dunks right over Ino, you even hear Gojo let out a low whistle of appreciation for the shot.

When the buzzer signals the game’s end, the Sorcerers have lost by three. Muta scored the winning shot, and after the game is called he runs right off the court to sweep Kasumi up in a hug. Across the court, you see Gojo terrorizing Utahime again, Kento bumping fists with Haibara, Choso and Todo crowding Yuji as Megumi watches in amusement.

Nobara sighs as she looks up at the scoreboard. 81-78.

God, it was close. Really, really close.

It’s one game, you tell yourself. They can swing it. They’ve got time.

The mood after the game is a weird mixture of excited and tense—the guys knew they were walking into a match with a better ranked team, but now they’re feeling it. It’s the hardest they’ve had to play in a while, and Yaga and Kusakabe are talking strategy before they even hit the locker room.

You get back to your hotel room late, another night of emails and scheduling and a too-bright screen, and when you get back, Ieiri is smirking at you.

“What?”

She nods to your bed. “Had a visitor a while ago.”

You follow her gaze to a folded pile of blue and green fabric on the end of your bed, a note on top of it. “Oh my god.”

You know what that is. You’d know it from a mile away, because you wrote the renewal contract for it, because it’s been scattered throughout the stands at home games, because you’ve approved ads and worked on shoot screenings with Nobara.

The shirt is soft in your hands, and you pick up the note, scrawled on a piece of paper torn from the hotel notepad.

figured our star manager deserved free star merch, right? you’re welcome!!!!!!

His handwriting is messy and slanted, the line of exclamation points nearing horizontal toward the right edge of the page. It’s so incredibly boyish you have to stifle a laugh, and in place of a signature Gojo has doodled his own face in the corner: a little circle with spiked up hair and a black headband, tugged over his eyes like a blindfold. Probably because he didn’t want to deal with drawing eyes, you think.

The shirt’s in your size, a long-sleeve that starts out blue and washes into a light green in a vertical gradient. LIMITLESS is printed across it in a thin sans serif, a Nike swoosh twisted into an infinity sign above the T.

“Idiot,” you mutter. Star merch. Arrogant idiot who sneaks into hotel rooms to leave his own merch and assumes you want it. Actually, he probably knows you don’t. That’s why he didn’t give it to you in person. That makes it worse. He’s just taunting you in his typical Gojo way.

You toss the shirt into your bag and slide the note into your laptop case, not seeing a recycling bin. Ieiri chuckles, and you look up at sharply. “What?”

She holds her hands up, palms out in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

When you try to fall asleep, staring at the shadowed popcorn ceiling, you’re reeling. Kasumi’s words pinball around your skull like it’s an echo chamber. The Limitless shirt sits heavy in your bag against the wall. Gojo winks in your mind’s eye. You feel his hand curled over yours, pen in your fist.

You hope you don’t dream.

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

Text

Q. Hughes - Plus One

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning(s): Implied smut, little make-out, some seducing, other than that just general fluff

Proofread Once

—————————————

“They are just so in love, I remember when we looked at each other like that.”

I had asked Quinn to attend this wedding with me. I thought by the look on his face the day I did ask, that he would have immediately said no.

“It’s just a family wedding, please?”

“I don’t know…” he seemed to contemplate the idea for a while before agreeing. “As long as you don’t leave me alone anywhere.”

It was a promise I could make. We rented a house and flew out to the Florida Keys together on a Monday. After a bit of discussion, Quinn and I decided to turn the wedding weekend into a vacation week. He said he was excited for the time on the beach away from family or friends. Excluding myself of course. We spent the said week finding restaurants to eat at, mini golfing, swimming, watching endless movies, and learning how to mix drinks. By the time Saturday came, Quinn was sitting on the couch opposite of me, massaging my feet in his lap, and telling me how excited he was to meet my family. A contrast to the beginning of the week when he wanted nothing to do with anybody.

“Are you ready yet?” Quinn called from the bottom floor, his voice easily heard from the loft master bedroom we had agreed to share only because this had been the last house that wasn’t booked on the week we needed it. I looked myself over one last time, a short baby blue dress with Birkenstock sandals. I curled my hair and applied a small amount of makeup to avoid sweating it off on the beach during the ceremony. I adjusted the rings on my fingers and fixed my necklace before I heard Quinn making his way up the steps. A nervous smile painted my lips.

When he made it to the top, I turned to look at him. Quinn smiled at me, looked me over, then blushed. I was doing too much of my own looking to even notice the flush in his cheeks. I was far more focused on the curls in his long hair, and the flutter of his lashes.

“You look good.” It was sudden, the way I began to feel as though the room heated up. I clasped my hands together in front of myself and let out a low sigh. “Are you ready now?” He looked impressed with how long it had taken me to get ready.

“Yeah.. sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. But four hours or one wouldn’t have made much a difference.” He smirked at the confusion on my face. “You’d look beautiful all the same.” Quinn and I were used to complimenting each other, but it felt especially good when I got as dolled up as I had. He held his hand out for me, and I approached slowly to grab it.

“I’m surprised some guy didn’t beat me to this.”

“Correction, you should be surprised I asked you first.” I teased, smiling at the soft laugh that fell from his lips.

“Thought I would have been your first option.” Quinn spoke as he guided me down the steps.

“You technically were, but I know how busy your family is with playoffs going on, and I didn’t want to steal you from all that.”

Quinn glanced back at me. “I’m kinda glad you did.” I hadn’t been expecting his answer.

“Really?”

“My parents- all they ever do is talk about Jack and Luke right now. And I get it. It’s their moment- but it’s nice to have something of my own going on. Ya know?” I squeezed his hand and smiled softly.

“I get it. It sucks when you’re the oldest sibling and the younger ones are doing all the things people expected you to do first.” I liked to think I was a breath of fresh air for Quinn. That our mutual understanding of being oldest siblings was what drew him to me, and he had told me so on multiple occasions.

The drive to the parking lot closest to the beach was a short one. It was rented out and packed full of cars. People were standing around talking, smiling and laughing, jovial as ever. With Quinn’s own family, I knew he would have been just as excited. But I could tell the moment I peeked at him, he was tense.

“Quinny,” I chided.

“What if they don’t like me? Jack says I have an RBF. What if they think I’m judging them?”

“You haven’t met my younger sister yet.” I shook my head. “My family is accustomed to quiet grumpy types.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Quinn turned the car off and turned to me.

“Just a little, Quinner.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at me before climbing out of the car. I was swift to follow. We met each other around the trunk of the rental. I straightened Quinn’s tie before I heard the squeal of a child and the little girls arms wrap around my legs from behind.

“She’s here!”

Introducing Quinn to my family was as hot of a mess as it could get. I had to tell each individual person that we weren’t dating, only for them to nod their heads in mocking disbelief when Quinn would rest his hand on my lower back and follow me around like a lost puppy. He did me no favors in convincing anybody we were friends. He did some talking on his own, but introductions and excited conversations ceased when the large group of family and friends of the bride and groom, began down the boardwalk to the beach. Quinn and I remained near the back of the group, and we remained there even when we sat down in the pews. The few people around us turned to speak occasionally, but Quinn and I were in our own little world.

Until it was invaded by the great grandparents of the bride and groom.

“Well don’t you look hot.” I’d met Goldie a handful of times. She was always a bit.. lacking in filter. An old woman still able to walk, and hell I’d bet fifty bucks she could still run too. She was lively and sweet, but headstrong all the same.

“Thank you,” I laughed softly, dragging my hand down the front of my dress, adjusting the low neckline that dipped quite far.

“I remember when I was your age. I loved dressing like that. My husband loved it too.” That brought laughter from the two men seated beside us. I glanced back at Quinn with a knowing smile.

“I used to have one dress in particular, that got him all kinds of riled up. Always wore that one when I wanted something.” Sometimes one could only laugh at the woman’s lack of privacy. Which was what Quinn and I both did.

“Grandma!” The bride’s aunt immediately turned around from the seat in front of us. Goldie looked forward with an innocent expression. “They don’t want to hear that.”

“I was just giving some advice to this lovely girl. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Goldie defended herself.

“Did she ask for it?” The woman in the row in front of us questioned.

“She didn’t have to. I could tell by the look on her face, she needed it. Her boyfriend could probably use a bit too.”

“Oh- we’re not.. together.” I quickly corrected, tensing at my own words. I always wished we were, but Quinn and I had been strictly friends since the dawn of time.

Goldie eyed us with a blank expression, then scoffed, rolled her eyes, and waved her hand in a dismissive motion. Her silver bracelets clinked.

“You will be.”

The music started, and all conversation quieted, then eventually ceased. I adjusted myself in my seat, my knees pressed into the side of Quinn’s thigh since he sat on the edge of the pew. I was turned toward the isle to see the bridesmaids come down with the groomsmen.

“Look how pretty she is,” I whispered excitedly as the first, mine and the bride’s mutual friend, came down.

“She’s okay.” Quinn mumbled in return. I gently swatted his thigh before my hand came to rest there.

“Don’t be rude.” I countered, though a piece of my confidence was boosted by his response. He told me I looked great today, but he wouldn’t compliment that girl. The one in an exquisite dress, walking down the aisle. Quinn couldn’t possibly have a thing for me…

“She’s beautiful too.” This time, it was spoken in more a coaxing way. My gaze flickered go Quinn while the next woman walked down the aisle. Watching the way his gaze lingered before he looked away. Uninterested, but trying to seem invested.

“She’s not really my type.” I hated how excited I got, and I hated even more so how hard I found it not to smile when his eyes met mine. I hadn’t known I was leaning into his personal space until we both realized how close our faces were. I slowly leaned back and laughed softly.

“Sorry.. I’m just excited.”

“It’s okay.” Quinn rested his hand atop my own and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Weddings are exciting.”

Once the pairs reached the end of the aisle, the new song started, and everybody rose. I gently removed my hand from Quinn’s to rest on his chest, pushing very slightly. He stepped back until his legs were pressed against the pew seat, trying to give me room to see. The moment she passed, I was beaming. One of my best friends, my closest family friend for the longest time. We used to daydream about getting married together. I was elated to see her dream coming true. Marriage was all she’d ever hoped for as a little girl. Her perfect wedding. Perfect husband. Perfect life.

“Wow,” I whispered as I felt Quinn’s arm wrap around my back.

“Why don’t you sit on the outside? So you can see better?” Such a subtle thing, but one I couldn’t help but appreciate immensely. Quinn and I shuffled around one another, and sat down once we were permitted to do so. Then the ceremony began. Quinn draped his arm over the back of the pew, and I found myself leaning into his side as time passed by. Occasionally he’d whisper something to me. Point something out or make a quiet joke that only the two of us understood. We’d giggle quietly and share eye contact, then giggle some more. At one point I started gently pulling sideways on his tie to make it crooked. He’d readjust it and roll his eyes. Then, eventually, he gave up with my antics and grabbed my other hand to keep it still. Quinn was never as grumpy as people made him out to be. It simply took the right type of person to make him happy and content.

When the ceremony ended, the chaos began once again. Quinn and I tried to avoid it for the most part, content to sit and watch everybody talk and laugh, and take their turns congratulating the bride and groom. I would do so at some point, but I was in no rush when there was one hell of a reception following.

We spoke with a few others, then Quinn and I slipped away to go back to our car. I was too excited to notice the way I grabbed Quinn’s hand and dragged him back to the boardwalk. He didn’t seem to mind anyhow.

“I loved that dress on her- god she was so beautiful, Quinn.” I babbled on, and he listened with a smile on his face.

“What kind of dress do you want?” His question caught me off guard, and my head swiftly snapped in his direction.

“What?”

“When you get married,” he explained. “What dress do you want to wear?”

“Oh god Quinn. I have so many things- something that flows- but preferably something I can pin up so I don’t step on the skirt at my reception. And I want a top with lace sleeves- or no sleeves at all.”

“Backless?” He cut in.

“Backless, for sure.” I agreed as we made it back to the car. Quinn opened my door for me, and I thanked him before slipping into the vehicle. We waited to leave until most others began to do so. We followed the bulk of the wedding traffic to the reception venue. A big shoreside building that had indoor and outdoor seating, a beautiful view of the ocean, and all the drinks one could want.

When we arrived, Quinn and I gave our names to the hostess and found our seats. The tables were round, decorated in white lace tablecloths. Each seat was accompanied by an empty plate and an upside down champagne glass, as well as a notecard with one’s name and a thank you note written on it. The lights were dim, the music turned on low.

“I’m starving.” Quinn muttered, and I could only laugh at how much he sounded like Jack. Even Luke. Those boys were always hungry.

“Patience.” I reminded. Thankfully, Quinn didn’t need too much of that. The bridal party came in, soon the bride and groom followed. A round of applause and cheering took place before everyone was seated and tables were called left and right to be served. Quinn and I found relief in knowing we were sat at a table with Goldie and her husband Frank. I was even more so relieved to know Quinn enjoyed their presences. That RBF he spoke of was nowhere in sight the moment Frank struck up a conversation with him.

The food was eaten, speeches spoken, cake cut. The main traditional festivities were long forgotten once the dance floor was opened up and people really began to party. Goldie dragged Frank off to the dance floor, and Quinn and I were left in a fit of laughter at the sight of his helpless expression.

Quinn wouldn’t say it, but there was a look of familiarity on his face. I was always dragging him around like that. And no matter how hard he tried to act like he hated it, he loved it.

“I’m gonna go get a refill on this champagne. Did you want anything from the bar?” I asked as I rested my hand on Quinn’s back. He shook his head and smiled at me.

“Just don’t leave me alone too long.”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” I reached out to ruffle his hair before reminding myself he spent far too long on it in the bathroom for me to put his hour of work to waste. So I withdrew my hand and laughed softly, taking my glass and waltzing off to the bar. The woman there was kind, striking up a conversation that lasted well after she finished pouring me a fresh glass of champagne. She asked of my relation to the bride, how I was enjoying the party, if the wedding went well.

By the time we finished speaking, I had to fight my way back through the standing crowd to find Quinn. He hadn’t moved an inch, but my brow furrowed the second I spotted the distress on his face.

“Quinn!” I called, catching his attention as I arrived at the table. He turned his phone off and set it face down on the surface. I didn’t know which question to ask first. Is he okay? Did something happen? Was his family alright? “You look tense.” I decided not to ask a question at all.

“I’m fine.” He dismissed my statement with one of his own. I shook my head.

“Open up, Quinn. What’s going on?” I set my glass down and turned my seat to face his own before I sat down. Quinn let out a quiet sigh and shrugged.

“My mom texted. Said the Devils lost tonight. It’s their third game in a row now. One more and they’re out.”

“I see.”

“Jack’s gonna be devastated.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his face as if it might erase the stress. Stress that wasn’t even his own.

“Quinn.” I caught his attention. “You don’t have to carry the weight on your brother’s shoulders all the time. I understand you want to be there, but- sometimes it’s okay to not worry about it.” I reached out to wrap my hand around his wrist. “How many times did you clean his boo-boos?”

“Too many.”

“And how many times did you sit with him until he fell asleep? Because there was a monster under his bed.”

“A lot.”

“You were there for him when USA didn’t win gold. You were there for him when his first girlfriend broke his heart. Hell, you were there for most of his rookie year. Quinn, you throw away all of your time for your brothers. I know you do it out of choice.. and you’re the most selfless person I know, but please.. just this once. Worry about it later.” I searched his eyes for any indication that he’d give in. Throw in the towel and have a good time. A piece of me expected him not to, especially when he sighed and picked up his phone. But then he turned it off. Then he set it back down, and reached for my hand.

“Come dance with me.” Then I realized, I finally convinced Quinn Hughes, to just forget about it. Jack probably wouldn’t even call for a while anyway. He’d have Luke. He’d have his team to lean on. Quinn’s number would hopefully be the last on his list of lifelines.

“You’re supposed to ask, not demand.” I slipped my hand into his own and we stood up.

“I’ll ask when we get outside.”

“Outside?”

“The sun is setting, there’s barely anyone out there, and enough space to dance without feeling squeezed in with everybody else.” Quinn explained as his gaze drifted toward the large windows of the venue. “Don’t make me stand around all those people.” He pleaded, and I giggled at the antisocial behavior I was used to seeing from him.

“Alright, weirdo.” I let him drag me off, swiping up my glass of champagne before I got too far from it. Quinn led me outside, past the propped open doors, and found a clear space for the two of us to dance. Only when he glanced back at me, did he wrinkle his nose at my occupied hand- holding my champagne.

“Dude,” there was a playful yet judgmental tone in his voice.

“You haven’t even tried it.” I held the glass out.

“Cuz I don’t wanna be drunk tonight.” He smiled, scoffing.

“How’s come?” I taunted.

“Because I wanna remember all of this. I wanna be completely sober, so I can remember the way you look. Right here… right in front of me, in that beautiful dress, and with the most beautiful smile, and those beautiful eyes.” I was speechless, my breath caught somewhere in my throat as a wide smile parted my lips. It almost hurt my cheeks.

“Okay well..” I paused. “Tipsy isn’t drunk.” Was I avoiding the compliments? The flirting? Possibly.

“Tipsy is still hazy.” Quinn argued as he rested his hands on my hips. “And I’d never want a single memory of you to be hazy.”

I placed my free hand on his shoulder, smiling uncontrollably at his words. The Hughes brothers may have sounded like men of few words when it came to the media, but Quinn certainly had a way with his.

“Quintin Hughes,” I turned my head to the side, resting my cheek against his chest. Quinn set the pace as he slowly began to sway, my body following suit within his hold. “Where’d this come from?”

“Years of loving you.” The words were spoken so softly that I had completely missed them. I squeezed his shoulder.

“Speak up, Q.”

“I love you.” The initial shock left me silent. His grip on my hips tightened. In anticipation, fear of rejection, hope and relief. I slowly lifted my head, looking up at him in wonder. My hand slid from his shoulder toward the back of his neck. A nervous smile formed on Quinn’s lips.

“Sorry,” he laughed out awkwardly. I shook my head in disapproval for his apology.

“No. No, Quinn please don’t take that back.” I set my glass of champagne aside on the nearest table. “I’ve waited forever to hear you say that, please don’t take it back now.” I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders. His smile eased into a genuine one. Our hearts beat quickly, our embrace tightened, bodies impossibly close, pressed to one another. As if the thought of parting would simply kill us.

“I won’t, then.” Quinn dipped his head toward my own. Our noses brushed, causing quiet bouts of laughter to erupt from lips that locked within seconds. Laughter silenced, though it was impossible to remain lip-locked for long when we could barely contain our smiles.

“You’re gonna make me look like a liar,” I whispered against his lips.

“Cause you kept telling everybody we weren’t dating?” Quinn pulled back only slightly, to look me in the eyes.

“Yeah.” I laughed softly.

“Technically we’re still not dating.” His smile was contagious, but not quite as enjoyable as kissing him. I moved my hands to hold his face, guiding his lips back to my own. I never would have guessed it would take a week alone with him to get him to open up, nor would I have guessed Quinn ever would have liked me. We took our time before pulling back, sighing before drawing in our own breaths of air. Quinn reached out to push a few locks of hair from my face, tucking it securely behind my ear.

“Two days.” He thought aloud.

“Two days?”

“Until I have to take you back.” He clarified. “Two days until we’re apart for two weeks.”

“It’s just two weeks, Quinner.” I assured.

“Then we have the lake house.” He reminded both himself and me.

“The lake house, and I’m coming back to Michigan with you. Don’t forget.”

“Do you have to go to Europe?”

“I already told my girlfriends I would.” I laughed, running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine for two weeks.”

“Two weeks with Luke- maybe Jack.. and my parents. They’ll drive me insane.”

“You act like your family is unbearable.” I wrapped my arms around Quinn’s shoulders again.

“They’re okay,” he joked with a shrug. I laughed and leaned forward to kiss his jaw. “I’ll be counting the days too. But let’s focus on these two days, yeah?”

“Movie night tonight?” He asked, his hands drifting past my lips to wrap around my back.

“You just confessed your love to me, and you wanna watch movies?” I whispered with an amused smile.

“Did you have something else in mind?” I could tell by the look in his eyes, that he caught on. He was merely playing hard to get.

“Take me home and find out.” Quinn’s smile widened before he stepped away and held his hand out for my own.

“Now?” He asked.

“Now.” I clarified.

“Come on.” He urged, his excitement unmatched. I grabbed his hand, and we practically rushed through the building to get our personal belongings. Quinn draped his suit jacket over my shoulders, held my clutch for me, and out the doors we went.

We made occasional conversation on the drive back to our house, but we were far too focused on what was to come, to be truly invested in a discussion. When we got to the house, Quinn told me not to get out of the car. Confused by his words, but deciding to trust him, I sat patiently while he got out and ran around the hood of the car. If only I’d taken a video of how funny he looked.

My smile practically reached my ears when he opened my car door and held his arms out.

We weren’t the newlyweds, but I still let him carry me like a princess to the front door. I was on key duty, unlocking and opening the door so he could carry me inside. He kicked the door shut behind us, and I shuttered when I felt his lips on my neck.

“Quinn,” his name fell from my lips in surprise, want laced in my tone.

“I’m gonna set you down.” He whispered in warning before he gently placed my feet on the ground. He kicked his shoes off by the door, and knelt down to undo the buckles of my sandals. His hair was finally fair game, so I leaned forward and ran my hands through it while he slipped off my first shoe. Quinn pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and my grip on his hair tightened momentarily, before he worked on the second shoe.

“Hurry up,” I urged just as he slipped my second shoe off. He trailed lazy kisses up my leg, stopping at the hem of my skirt before he stood up, quiet chuckles falling from both our lips when his nose got caught on the fabric of my skirt, pulling it up only slightly before I had fixed the fabric and leaned into his grip. His hands found my hips, and his lips- they certainly found mine as well. Quinn’s hands slipped down my back, nipping at my lip. When his hands found the bottom of his suit jacket, he tugged it off and let it hit the floor, one of the buttons clacking against the hard wood. I pulled away before his wandering hands could get anywhere else.

“Come on,” Quinn groaned out. I stood just out of reach, a challenging smirk on my lips. It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he reached for me. I stepped out of his reach again, and soon it became a game of chase. An effective way to lead him up the steps toward the loft bedroom. Quinn’s hand grazed my ankle toward the last step, and a worried shout fell from my lips before I got up and out of his reach again. I heard him mumble a, ‘Damnit.’ But he hadn’t anticipated my immediate halt, and our bodies collided. He held onto me tightly, assuring myself and himself that I wouldn’t fall.

“Finally.” Quinn smirked, and I began to laugh when his lips found my neck. “Stop that,” he whispered against my skin.

“A little ticklish I guess.” I whispered, surprised by his actions once again when I heard the zipper of my dress being undone. He was good at this. I rested my hands against Quinn’s chest and slowly pushed him back. My dress looked much looser with the zipper undone, but it was the last thing I was worried about. I reached for the buttons on Quinn’s shirt, making quick work of them and pulling the white dress shirt out from his pants. I was too focused to notice the way he was staring at me until my gaze flickered up to meet his own. I had just begun to slip the shirt from his shoulders when I took note of the look in his eyes.

“What?” I paused my movements, my hands resting on the edges of his shoulders.

“Nothin’. You just look so beautiful.” I nodded and silently continued to push his shirt off.

“Take me to bed, Hughes.” I gave in, a gasp leaving my lips when he hoisted me up by my hips and walked me over to the bed. He was gentle when he set me down, and even gentler when he laid me out, leaning over me and kissing me once again.

“You got it, beautiful.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb

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boqvistsbabe · 9 months ago

Text

truth or dare - matthew tkachuk

A/N: this is for the summer fic exchange!! I got the chance to write for @ohmyeyesmyeyes as a part of @wyattjohnston 's summer fic exchange. I was pretty nervous because tbh I havent written in so long mostly because of writers block, but here it is! Super excited to have been able to take part in this especially cause it got me out of a writer's block lol. I absolutely loved doing this. Also in this Matt and McDavid are friends. Hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Some swearing but I think that's it! (also my computer started acting weird halfway through so the formatting got a little funky so apologies for that)

Wordcount: 4,705

So it finally happened. Matthew had won the Stanley Cup. And you somehow found yourself driving from St Louis down to the Lake of the Ozarks to celebrate with him and his family.

To be completely honest you don’t know why you were invited, Matt and you texted every once in a while for birthdays and other holidays, maybe congrats on a game or promotion, and maybe saw each other when he visited home occasionally but nothing like when you were kids growing up together. You were in the same grade as Brady and quickly became best friends with him. With how much family means to the Tkachuks, you were easily brought in as one of their own. Being brought on family vacations, going to the lake each summer, and traveling to the boys’ and Taryn’s games was a big part of your younger years. Though you were best friends with Brady, there was always something about Matt that drew you to him. He treated you just like one of his siblings always teasing and trying to beat you in games but as you got older things changed. You’re not exactly sure when or why but he stopped messing around with you so much, he still hung out with you but when it was just the two of you it was less teasing and more deep talks about the future and what it held for both of you. Of course, you ended up having a little crush on him, he was too nice and familiar for you to not. Even though you never told a single soul about it, you had a suspicion Chantal knew anyway.

When he made it to the NHL he moved and you stayed in St Louis you kept in touch, making weekly calls and texting all of the time. Then he got a girlfriend and you started hearing from him less and less. You understood of course, things change as you grow up and life goes on. Though you still stayed close with Brady and Taryn when they moved on to college and the league.

Flashforward to playoffs this year, you were watching whatever games of Matt’s you could like always and then the Panthers won, and you got a text from Matt saying you should join the family at the lake to celebrate “like old times”. You had asked Taryn if she thought it was a good idea when you FaceTimed the night after and she told you of course and looked at you like you were stupid for suggesting otherwise. She didn’t know about the silly little crush you still had on him so of course she would think that. Brady knew though, not fully but you slipped up one time when you were drunk and he won’t let you live it down.

So here you were taking time off work for the first time in forever, driving two hours to get to the lake to celebrate a man you were probably in love with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew’s POV

“Brady would you stop that!” I was fed up with him bugging me right now. Everyone had made it to the lake so far, Sasha, McDavid, all the other guys their plus ones, and of course my family. The only one left to show up was Y/N. At first, I wasn’t even sure she would accept my offer. I knew she had been working a bunch and honestly didn’t know if she was keeping up with hockey anymore. She liked it a lot when we were younger but things can change. And with us not being super close anymore I didn’t know if it would be worth it to her. Thankfully according to Brady, she left like two and a half hours ago so she should be here any minute.

But Brady won’t leave me alone about the whole Y/N thing. I don’t see what the problem was, I wanted to see an old friend and this was a good excuse to do so. Well, that’s exactly what I had told my family, it’s not entirely untrue. I just didn’t tell them about how when I was lifting that cup in the air I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have her there with me. When I first made it to the show I was still hung up on her so I dated around to distract myself. Never anything too serious, the whole point was just to get my mind off of her so I could focus on hockey I wasn’t trying to get caught up on someone else too. Of course, it never really worked, which is why I got up the courage to even ask her to come. As soon as I got back to the locker room after that game and had a moment to myself, I texted her. Brady was there and being nosey as usual saw my text from over my shoulder and won’t stop bugging me about it.

My plan was just to have her come here to just see her again. Yeah maybe partially because I want to see if that little spark is still there, but also just because I hope we can get closer again. I hope we can.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

You pull in front of the garage, put the car in park, and give yourself to breathe for a second. The second doesn’t last long though.

“Y/N!!! You’re here!!” Taryn was running up to your car with Brady right behind her. And there he was, Matthew Tkachuk standing there in all his Stanley Cup Champion glory on the porch watching his siblings pull you from your car and into a big hug.

“Matt you can’t just stand there and watch them maul me and not even try to do anything!” You shouted over to him even as you squeezed Brady and Taryn tighter. It had been months since you had seen either of them in person and you were planning on savoring every moment you had with them, and Matt before you all had to return to your busy lives.

Matt started making his way to the three of you a big smile on his face, “Ahh you’re right, I’ve got to join in.”

Next thing you knew, another set of arms was wrapped around you. Maybe Matt was right, it was gonna be just like old times. They all let you go and you turned to give Taryn her own hug first.

“Hey kid, I missed you.” Somehow it feels like she’s gotten taller since the last time you saw her. Taryn responds with a, “You’re not that much older… but I missed you too.”

Brady’s next and you get a hug and a big paw messing up your hair like he always did when you were younger. When he lets you go you turn to the only one left, Matt who’s standing there smiling at your interactions with his siblings. You’re trying to fix your hair from Brady messing it up and he reaches over and tucks a piece of hair back to help out. Then Brady says something about helping Mom with dinner and drags Taryn along with him.

You mumble a thanks to Matt and he opens up his arms and you step into them.

“Thanks for coming, it means a lot,” Is mumbled into your hair.

“Yeah of course Superstar.” The old nickname falls out of your mouth unintentionally.

“Oh my gosh, I’m never going to escape that am I?” You’re still hugging him.

“Definitely not now with the Cup to prove it.” He laughs but is still hugging you too.

You take a step back and wipe your hands on your shorts not knowing what to do with them.

“Alright let’s get your stuff and then I’ll help you get it inside, you’re staying in Taryn’s room since she’ll be in the basement with her friends.”

“Alright works for me.”

~~~~~~

As you make the trek up the two flights of stairs to the upper floor you’re grateful for Matt taking your bags. You forgot how steep the stairs were. You make it to Taryn’s room before you notice that the corner room, the one next to yours has plastic covering the doorway. Without turning you ask him what happened.

“Oh a big storm came through a couple of weeks ago and a tree fell on that corner of the house.” He shrugs and reaches around you to open the door to Taryn’s room.

“Isn’t that your room though?” You haven’t moved into the room yet.

“Uh yeah, I’m just staying on the couch and keeping my stuff in Brady’s room.” He nudges you forward and you move into the room, setting your backpack on the bed before turning to him.

“Why don’t you take Brady’s room and make him sleep on the couch? This is like your thing, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch.”

Matt shrugs, “ His girlfriend is staying here too so they get a room and I’m fine with the couch.”

“Matt you should sleep here and I’ll take the couch and leave my stuff with Taryn and the girls.” You move to grab your stuff from him, but he doesn’t let you.

“Absolutely not, you’re a guest and Mom would kill me.” He’s got a frown on his face that you refuse to admit to yourself is cute.

“I don’t care, this is your gig I’m taking the couch.” With that, you run out of the room and bolt down the stairs and Matt is hot on your heels as soon as he figures out what you’re doing.

It’s not hard to locate Chantal and Keith, they’re out on the back deck grilling and watching the kids (aka Taryn and her friends) play with a volleyball in the yard. It seems like some of Matt’s friends from hockey are here too because they’re taking up the chairs scattered around the deck. But you barely pay attention to them, you’re on a mission.

“Chantal can you please tell your son to liste-” You’re cut off by a strong arm around your waist and a hand over your mouth.

“Mom don’t listen to her please.” Matt is out of breath behind you, holding tight cause he knows as soon as he lets go you’ll convince his mom to agree with you like always.

“You two are already back at it huh? Hi Y/N it's good to see you, honey. What am I trying to agree to?” She looks amused at the spectacle of you two. She’s used to it, this is exactly something that would happen whenever you wanted one of the boys to listen to you when you were kids. You would run to Chantal and get her on your side without letting her know the real context so you would get your way. She thought it was hilarious and always sided with you because you were always right.

“Mom she’s trying to take the couch and make me sleep in Taryn’s room.” You lick his hand and he immediately retracts it and Keith laughs. He doesn’t let go of you though.

“Y/N you’re a guest you know better.” She’s giving you a look and you know you’ve already lost.

“But Chantal it's Superstar’s celebration, not mine! And he has camp starting here soon, we can’t have him in pain from sleeping on a couch.” You heard a few chuckles from the guys at the nickname.

“If it’s that big of a deal to both of you just share the bed, it’s a king and it’s not like you haven’t shared before. Don’t give me those looks, you think I didn’t know about your little sleepovers?” You feel your face heat and refuse to look at Matt’s friends who are now 100% interested in what’s going on, “ I don’t care what y’all do but I don’t want to deal with arguing right now, it’s day 1. Now shoo and get stuff to set the table.”

Without speaking he lets go of you and you both turn and walk right back into the house and into the kitchen, the sound of laughter following you. The next couple of seconds are completely silent before you both burst into laughter. You make eye contact across the island and start laughing again. Together you get the tables set for dinner.

“You know she’s not wrong, it’s a good compromise.” You look over to where Matt is perched on the counter.

“What?” He can’t be suggesting what you think he is, if he is it’s a bad idea.

“We could share, the bed is big enough and we’re both adults.” He shrugs, “ I don’t see why not. As long as you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it.”

It’s a bad idea and you should say no, “Yeah I’m fine with it.” So your mouth and brain were not on the same page at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve forgotten about that agreement until everyone is headed to their rooms or cabins and you’re standing in the doorway of the room watching Matt put his stuff up. You tell yourself it’s fine and move to grab your pajamas out of your bag.

“What side of the bed do you want?” Matt pops his head out the bathroom doorway to look at you.

“I don’t really care.” You shrug, you’d prefer the side by the window but you weren’t going to say that.

“If I remember right you like to sleep closer to the window, so I’ll take the side by the door.” Matt winks before shutting the door to change.

You’re not going to think anything of the wink or of the fact that he remembers little things about you. Instead, you plug your charger in on that side of the bed and set your water on that side table. When Matt gets out you take your turn. You change first then brush your teeth and wash your face before heading out to the bedroom. Of course, you manage to open the door right as Matt tugs off his shirt. You pause for just a second, taking in his muscular back and arms. When he starts to turn around you look away and start heading to your side of the bed. You don’t know why you were so shocked at him taking off his shirt, he always slept without a shirt on. Maybe it just felt a little different now, you stop that train of thought before it finishes leaving the station.

You grab two of the big decorative pillows that Matt threw on the floor and place them next to each other in the middle of the bed.

“Really? I’m not gonna give you cooties I promise.” That teasing glint is in Matt’s eyes, “I’ll stick to my side of the bed don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes before flopping into bed and snuggling up under the covers.

~~~~~~~~

Waking up the next morning with a heavy arm draped around your waist wasn’t something your brain was able to process that early. Turning you realized it was Matt who was all cuddled up close. You try to wiggle away but it doesn’t work and he just holds on tighter. Sighing you reach over to grab your phone. You pull up the text thread to Brady and snap a quick picture of Matt snuggled up with you.

Y/N: he didn’t stay on his side of the bed and now he won’t let me go.

Brady: don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying it, also you should be thanking me rn

Y/N: ???

Brady: you forgot to close the door last night, got this on my way to the kitchen. Dw i was up first and i shut the door

Attached to his message is a picture from the doorway of the room, and it clearly shows you half lying on top of Matt, face tucked into his neck and his arm wrapped around you. Before thinking better of it, you save the picture to your photos.

Y/N: well fuck, thanks

Brady: yw, breakfast is ready when y’all are

Y/N: perfect thanks

Turning around you poke Matt until he stirs.

“What do you want, it's too early for this,” his eyes aren’t even open.

“So much for staying on your side of the bed and its 9:30 its not that early.” You tease, poking him again.

Matt’s eyes flutter open and he takes in the situation. Once he realizes his arm is around you, he quickly retracts it and brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“Whoops sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Uh huh sure. I’m gonna go get breakfast.” And with that, you roll out of bed, grab your phone and water, and slip out of the room.

~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV

“Fuuucccckkkk.” I stretch out across the bed. I didn’t intentionally cuddle Y/N last night but oh well. She’s a good cuddler. Maybe I can convince her to cuddle tonight. Actually, maybe I need to stop thinking like that. Sitting up I grab my phone and see a notification from Brady.

Brady: if you don’t want everyone knowing about your little crush maybe you should remember to shut the door

Right after the message is a picture of Y/N lying on top of me with her face tucked in my neck and a leg hooked around mine, I assume she wasn’t aware of this but if she was she conveniently left that out when teasing me about breaking the pillow wall.

Matt: shit did anyone else see, i don’t want anyone to bug her about it

Brady: nah just me, i shut the door on the way downstairs and I was the first one up.

Matt: K thx, she said breakfast is ready?

Brady: ya, get your ass down here and eat its boat day

Groaning I push myself up from the bed and head downstairs. And if I saved the picture to my phone who can blame me, it’s cute.

~~~~~~~~

Brady POV

If these two don’t get their shit figured out before the end of the trip I’m gonna scream. They obviously like each other, and I know for sure Y/N has liked him for years and I’m pretty sure it’s the same for him. They just need to do something about it.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Boat day means us “kids” are out being stupid and Chantal and Keith stay home and get to relax by themselves. It also means you get to drive the boat because that’s your favorite part besides the actual wake surfing. And Matt and Brady know not to argue with you about driving. With so many people though you had to rent a second boat. This meant Brady and his girlfriend were on the boat with Taryn and her friends and you got stuck with Matt and his friends. Not that it would matter too much because you’d stick close together for the most part.

When you left the dock Matt was sitting in the back with his friends but now he’s moving up to sit in the chair by you. He doesn’t say anything, it's far too loud to have a conversation right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV

I can’t stop looking at her. I’m trying not to be too obvious, but she looks so pretty. The wind is pulling the hair out of her braid and the blue of her swimsuit looks so good on her. And even though I know she grew up on the lake with us, her knowing all about the boat and loving to drive it is so attractive for some reason.

Once we get far enough out she gets the boat stopped so we can set everything up. The guys have already decided who’s going in what order so I’ll probably stick up here with her while she’s driving. Even though she didn’t seem to mind about getting stuck with us I still feel a little bad. Plus I like being in her presence.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

“You know you can hang with the guys, they came here to see you.” You don’t turn to look at him, instead choosing to keep watching the boys get set up.

“Yeah, I know but so are you. And I Like spending time with you so,” he just shrugs.

So throughout the laps of the boys going one after another, he sat there next to you while you drove. Finally, it was his turn and then you were up next. And this continued till lunch when you all took a break to eat before starting back up again.

It was the last run for everyone and Matt was up and you somehow ended up in the back watching him because one of the guys wanted to drive a lap. However, this lap was a little different. Matt ended up losing his balance and falling off the board but when that happened the board ended up catching his head as he fell into the water.

The boat stopped and he popped up like nothing was wrong but he had blood dripping down the side of his face starting at his eyebrow.

“Matt you good man?” Came from McDavid.

“Yeah, the board just barely caught me.” He seemed fine but you still wanted to make sure.

“Come up here I’m gonna check that out and make sure you’re actually okay.” You told him gesturing up front where the first aid box was. He followed without complaint. You motioned for him to sit in the captain's chair.

“I’m just gonna clean it up and put a bandage on it but once we get back to the house I might have to get something better okay?” You grabbed the kit and got an alcohol wipe out to clean up the blood. His curls had fallen in the way so you brushed them back before cleaning him up. He sat there without complaint, even though the alcohol probably burned a lot, looking up at you as you held his face to keep him still while you doctored him up. The cut wasn’t as bad as you originally thought, but it was still pretty bad. You grabbed the biggest band-aid you found and gently placed it over the cut.

“Alright good to go.” You declared standing back up.

“What no kiss for my boo-boo?” Matt teased.

Without even thinking about it you leaned down and kissed the band-aid before walking to the back of the boat to get ready for your last turn. Not even realizing the look Matt is giving you or the fact that Taryn is recording it all from where they stopped not too far away to make sure everything was okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner that night it was time for the firepit. Chantal and Keith were inside in bed already, and Taryn and her friends were watching a movie, which meant truth or dare mixed with a little alcohol. Just like if you were all teenagers again.

Though not everyone was drinking it did surprise you that Matt wasn’t. This was normally his bread and butter. And when you asked he just shrugged it off.

By the time the game actually started, you might’ve been just a little tipsy. Thankfully Matt was sitting next to you so at least knew who you were next to. Though maybe you were a little bit more out of it than you thought because you couldn’t stop looking at Matt and you’re pretty sure it’s really obvious but you also don’t really care.

At some point, someone asks you the age-old question of truth or dare. Normally you’re a truth kind of person but even through the alcohol, you can tell that drunk confessions might not be the best idea right now. Of course, the only other option is dare so you pick that, which in hindsight still might not be a great idea because you are far gone enough to agree to whatever dare they threw your way.

“I dare you to kiss Matt, on the lips.”

Oh, that was, unexpected. Especially considering it came from McDavid.

You glanced over at Matt who looked like a deer in the headlights. You nudged him and he turned to look at you.

“I’m fine with it if you are?” You whispered to him.

“Are you sure, you’ve drank tonight I don’t want that to be influencing your decision.” He looked concerned which you found sweet. And even though you were drunk, you still wanted to kiss him. This might be your only chance and the alcohol is giving you the confidence you need.

“I’m sober enough to consent to it, but are you okay with it?”

“Yeah.” He was still looking at you, eyes jumping around different parts of your face before landing on your lips. So you did what any sane person would, slid your hand into the curls at the nape of his neck tugged him towards you, and kissed him. Your eyes fluttered shut and one of his hands came up to cup your face and the other wrapped around you to pull you closer.

You broke apart to a couple of whistles from the guys and Brady saying something about how he doesn’t wanna see that.

Matt was still sitting closer to you, but you didn’t move away until you stood up to grab another beer.

Later on when it was time for everyone to go to bed you were on wobbly legs so Matt offered to give you a piggyback ride up the stairs and of course, you said yes. He brought you all the way into the room and dropped you back on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

“Thank you Mattyyyy!” Okay, maybe you were still a little drunk. Matt reappears and sets a cup of water and some pills on the side table.

“Yeah, not a problem. I’m gonna need you to go ahead and sit up so you can take this and not feel totally horrible in the morning.” You raised your arms and he grabbed your hands to tug you up so you could take the medicine. Once you get it down you flop back onto the bed, kick your shoes off, and curl up under the covers.

“Come on Matty I wanna cuddle and you’re taking forever.” He had just gotten into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

“Give me a second and I’ll be right out.” And sure enough he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt POV

I was royally fucked.

That kiss, was good. Too good. Cause now I can’t stop thinking about it.

After rinsing off my face I walked back out expecting Y/N to be asleep, but she was still awake waiting for me covers pulled back and everything.

“Hurry up Matty,” she looked so cute snuggled up and ready for bed. So I climbed into bed next to her and she immediately tucked herself under my arm and was out a minute later.

Yeah I was in big trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Waking up the next morning sucked big time. Thankfully the planned hike was not until later this afternoon so after breakfast you could come right back upstairs to sleep some more. At least you could remember the night before. But also remembering the night before means you could remember the kiss and how good it was and then Matt getting you upstairs and taking care of you and of course you begging for cuddles. Which speaking of, Matt himself was still asleep and still holding you close. Though this morning you were able to roll out of his grasp before he could pull you back. You went to the bathroom and grabbed more medicine and some water before running downstairs and grabbing two granola bars. No one else seemed to be up either and you didn’t feel like making real food.

When you got back upstairs Matt was sitting up in bed. You tossed one of the bars at him before crawling back in your side and opening up your own.

“Everyone else is still asleep, and the hike isn’t untilater so after I eat this I’m gonna go back to sleep.” You exclaimed before eating your granola bar.

“Alright. Thanks by the way. And if you don’t mind I’ll probably join you, we were up late last night and I’m tired.” You just shrugged in response because your mouth was full.

True to your word both of you were back asleep after setting an alarm to give enough time for getting ready before the hike.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were all about halfway through the hike when it happened. Somehow you had managed to trip over a tree branch that was across the path. Through this area of the trail it was a small path so everyone was in a single file line and just just happened to be in the back. So no one even knew you fell until you tried to stand up and couldn’t put any pressure on your left foot without yelping in pain. As soon as they heard you they all turned to look to see what happened. And even though he was leading everyone, Matt made it to your first.

“Hey hey, what happened?” He asked as soon as he got to you, kneeling down next to you.

“I got caught on the branch and hurt my left ankle. I can’t stand up.” You had tears running down your face. More out of pain than anything else.

“Alright, you probably sprained it. I’ll take you back and they’ll continue on okay?” He reached up to wipe your tears away and all you could do was nod. Your ankle really hurt.

He turned around to face the group, “Hey Brady, you keep leading everyone and I’m gonna take her back to the house, she can’t walk.” Brady said something in response but you didn’t even hear him. Before they left Taryn came back to tell Matt to keep them updated and give you a hug.

When the group started on their way Matt turned to look at you again.

“Okay I’m gonna have you get on my back and we’ll get back to the house that way okay?”

“Okay, thanks Matt. I’m sorry you have to deal with this instead of finishing the hike.” You did feel really bad.

“Hey hey no it’s fine, you didn’t mean to do this. And I’d rather take you back and know you’re okay than have someone else do it okay?” You ignored how that cause butterflies to errupt in your stomach and just nodded.

“Alright I’m gonna stand up and help you up then get you on my back alright?” You just nodded again.

Matt stood up before leaning down to grab you bridal style.

“When I set you down stand on your good foot and I’ll get lower so you’re able to hop on easier.”

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You made it back to the house, Matt checking on you the whole way, making sure nothing else hurt and making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

Once you get inside Matt sits you down on the couch and disappears. When he comes back he has an ice pack and a bandage to go around your ankle. You lean down to start to undo your laces but he stops you and does it himself.

“Hey let me take care of you.”

“Thanks Matt. I really do appreciate it.”

He makes quick work of getting you all bandaged up. And you both decide to have a little movie night and Matt gets up to get snacks and turn the lights off. And when he sits back down, he’s sitting a lot closer than before. And you don’t mind.

Eventually you do end up cuddling together, him pulling you close and you tucked in next to him but still with your foot resting on the coffee table in front of you.

And that’s exactly how everyone finds you later when they get back.

~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV

Someone is shaking me. I open my eyes half expecting Y/N to be telling me I’m on her side. But its Mom and I’m in the living room and the TV is showing the ending credits.

“Honey I think y’all need to go to bed its late and y’all are tired. Is she okay?”

“Yeah she’s got a sprain. Nothing too bad thankfully but she is gonna be in pain for a bit.”

“Alright honey, go ahead on up to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

I untangle myself from Y/N and stretch before standing up and lifting her to head upstairs. When I make it to our room and kick the door shut, lay her downa dntuck her in before laying down next to her. And when she automatically cuddles closer who can blame me when my heart flutters for a second.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Today was the day everyone was leaving. Myself included. Thankfully the ankle I hurt was not the one I needed to drive. Matt of course helped me get everything to the car. By the time I’m ready to leave everyone but Matt and I are gone. And of course Chantal and Keith.

I’m sitting in my seat procrastinating leaving. I have tomorrow off of work so I’m in no rush. And I want to keep talking to Matt who’s standing in the doorway of my car looking down at me with soft eyes.

“Hey Y/N?” Matt is suddenly serious.

“Yeah what is it?”

“I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you. Actually I think I kinda love you and I always have. And if you feel the same which I think you do, or at least I’m hoping you do, I’ll do whatever I can to make it work with us. Even though we would be so far apart. But I just had to telly you that before you left. If you don’t feel the same we can pretend this never happened, but for the record I really don’t want to have to forget that amazing kiss.” There’s a blush covering Matt’s whole face.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m kind of in love with you too.” Relief washes over Matt’s face.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?”

You don’t answer, you just pull him close and plant one on him.

“And Matt,” he leans back to look at you again, “I think now is a good time to mention that I got a promotion that requires me to move out of St Louis.”

“I don’t care where you move if you want to I am willingto make it work no matter where you are.”

“Well me moving might make it a little easier on us.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you have to move to?” He rests his hands on your hips, a smile across his face.

“Well I kinda of have to move to Miami. So like maybe twenty minutes from you?”

Matt’s smile somehow gets bigger as he lifts you up to spin around.

“I think that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

#the summer fic exchange 2k24 #sam writes #matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl fic #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl writing

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senditcolton · 1 year ago

Text

If You Want It Done

love. hate. oh how we play the game. cold soul, no sense of self-control

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight. song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1kwarnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady. Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely.

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,” he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

#nicole writes #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei smut #nashville predators fic #nashville predators imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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beritybaker · 1 day ago

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⚽️ Two Aces ⚽️

Rating: T | Word Count: 1,852 | CW: Language, Light Angst | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Friends to Lovers, Modern Era, College Athletes, Love Confessions | ao3 For @steddiesportsau week three. Prompt: Full Contact Sports.

“Don’t pass it back to me.” Eddie looks at him like he’s lost his marbles, but Steve has never been more sure of anything in his life, so he leans in to murmur, “Seriously. Take the shot.”

“You sure, Ace?”

“Positive. No matter what I say out there, don’t listen to me. You charge the goal.” He backs up a step to speak at full volume and gives him a significant look. “Got it?”

Eddie hesitates, but then it seems to dawn on him what Steve is suggesting. He nods.

Steve grins and nods back, taps Eddie’s shoulder, then jogs to the corner of the field to take his kick. Eddie runs in the opposite direction, getting in position with Byers and Sinclair. It’s been a hell of a game, but with the score stuck at 1-1 since halftime, and the stoppage time dwindling, Steve is ready to try something new to clinch this win before it goes to overtime.

The idea was Dustin’s, and it was ridiculous enough that he’d mentioned it to them as an offhand joke at first. But the truth of the matter is that as their top scorer and their captain, everyone in the league expects the rest of the team to give Steve the ball whenever he asks for it, and every defensive player can’t help but pay him way more attention than they should. He suppresses a smirk when he notices the OSU defenders crowding his side of the field, leaving their poor goalkeeper to protect the far post on his own.

It may be Steve’s nickname, but they always forget the Hoosiers have more than one ace up their sleeve.

Steve spins the ball as he places it on the corner, then drags his foot as he steps backward, lining up the kick. C’mon, Eds. You got this. Get that winning shot.

As soon as his foot sends the ball to Eddie—crossing in front of the goal over everyone’s heads—Steve sprints after it, into the fray. He wrestles with one of the defenders and gets himself free. Then he shouts, “Munson. Munson, here!”

At Steve’s prior direction, Eddie ignores him, and Steve couldn’t be more grateful for the guy’s insubordinate soul. He fakes a pass, which distracts the sweeper who’s on him long enough that he can make a break. He touches the ball once more to take aim, then flawlessly launches it past the goalie’s outstretched fingers and into the net.

The crowd and the team both erupt so loudly that they almost drown out the shrill triple-blast of the ref’s whistle, but it’s clear enough. And it’s music to Steve’s ears.

That’s the game. They’ve won the playoffs.

The IU team in goal collide with their offense in a celebratory mob at midfield, and those on the sideline storm the field to join them. Everyone is jumping and shouting and laughing and hugging, and normally any one of those things might have Steve excusing himself to avoid getting overstimulated, but that’s not happening now; he’s too proud of his team to feel like the sweeping reaction is too much. If anything, it’s not enough, considering they just came through and beat out the two-seed to take the title.

In the crowd, he bumps into Eddie. Before they can get jostled away from each other, he grabs onto Eddie’s shoulders and yells, “You did it! I knew you could do it, and you fucking did it!”

“We did it,” Eddie corrects, beaming. “All I did was follow your lead, Ace.”

He’s not exactly sure how it happens. One second, he and Eddie are grinning at each other with pride; the next, Steve’s hands have moved from Eddie��s shoulders to his face, and he’s got his lips pressed to that very same smile.

For a brief, glorious moment, Eddie melts into him.

Then, realizing what he’s just done, Steve pulls back. Eddie seems to come to his senses in the same instant, and he meets Steve’s gaze with wide eyes.

“Did you…just…?”

“Uh…I…”

He did. Right there in front of everybody—the rest of the team, the coaching staff, the ESPNU cameras and commentators—Steve Harrington kissed Eddie Munson right on the mouth. It wasn’t just a little peck, either; it was a full-on, lips-locked, so-intense-he-felt-it-in-his-knees kiss that was bound to turn some heads.

He tries to answer again, but before he can say anything else, he’s swept away by one of the assistant coaches to give a post-game interview.

⚽️⚽️⚽️

Alone in the locker room and still in his sweaty, grass-stained jersey, Steve sits on a bench and stares at the floor. It’s been a full hour of madness, and though he’s still buzzing with the adrenaline of the win, he’s also utterly distraught.

What the fuck came over him? Did he forget where he was? That’s the only explanation for what happened. Sure, he’s been pining after Eddie for a while now, but he’d thought he had more self-control. Apparently, with one big victory, his self-control flew right out the window.

With his elbows on his knees, Steve buries his face in his hands and sighs. Shit.

This is exactly what he didn’t want. It’s why he didn’t act on his feelings sooner. He didn’t want to mess with the team’s dynamic, and he certainly didn’t want to be a captain who can’t even keep his own emotions in check. There’s no going back now, though. He’s just thankful they made it through the playoffs before he slipped up.

“Shouldn’t you be out partying with the rest of the team?”

Steve’s head shoots up, not just because he’d thought he was the last one here, but because of the specific voice he hears. Trying on an insincere smile, he counters, “Shouldn’t you?”

Eddie scoffs. He’s leaning against a row of lockers in his street clothes. The soft curls that had been pulled back during the game now cascade over his shoulders in a way that always makes Steve want to comb his fingers through them. “Me? I mean, I guess. But you definitely should. A team needs their captain, even if they’re just getting hammered.”

Steve’s smile grows a bit more genuine at Eddie’s playful tone, though his eyes are still misty. “I think Sinclair can manage ’em without me. It’s time he learned, anyway, if he really wants to take over next season.”

“We should still go, though. Our last hurrah, right?”

“We’ve still got the banquet before graduation. Bound to be a rager this year.” He meets Eddie’s eye. “That’s thanks to you.”

Eddie smiles back. “Thanks for the assist. It was a brilliant play.”

“It wouldn’t’ve worked without that perfect aim of yours.”

“Still, you saw that. You knew I could do it. And even though I’m sure you could’ve scored that buzzer-beater too, you let me have the glory. That’s what makes you a great captain.”

Steve purses his lips. He doesn’t answer right away, but goes back to staring at the floor. Eventually, he murmurs, “Thanks.”

They’re both silent for a while. It seems to Steve a lot longer than it probably is, but he doesn’t trust himself to break it without saying something stupid, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Ace,” Eddie says.

His tone tells Steve that he’s not going to go on until they make eye contact again. So, as hard as it is, he forces himself to look up.

“After the game, on the field…”

Fuck. Of course Eddie wants to talk about it. Steve desperately wants to look away from him again, to fix his gaze on the wall in front of him, but something about Eddie’s expression gives him pause.

Slowly, Eddie says, “You really kissed me like you meant it.” He swallows. “Did you…mean it?”

Steve closes his eyes and furrows his brow. He can’t look at Eddie as he admits it. He just can’t. “Yeah. I did.”

“Really?”

There’s so much unbridled hope in Eddie’s voice that Steve’s eyes blink open in an instant, and he breathlessly repeats, “Yeah.”

“You…meant to kiss me like that in front of everyone?”

“No. Not that part.” Steve sighs. “Look, Eddie, I just…I know we’re friends, and teammates. I’m your captain, for god’s sake. I never knew what to say.”

“About what?” Eddie asks. His voice trembles, and it’s so quiet that the words are barely audible.

“About…how I feel when I’m with you.”

He smiles cautiously. “You wanna start with the truth?”

His eyes are open and bright, and Steve couldn’t deny them anything. Eddie could ask him for tickets to Saturn, and he’d be on the phone with NASA trying to make it happen.

So he tells him. He tells Eddie about how he looks forward to every away game, because it means sitting next to him on the bus and listening to him rant about whatever hobby he’s taken up that week. He tells Eddie about the time he lost his breath just from watching him take a penalty kick. He tells Eddie about how terrified he was when that asshole from Stanford slide tackled him and he didn’t hop right back up, and about how he’s cried to Robin on the phone multiple times because he didn’t know what to do about any of it.

When Steve is done talking, Eddie stares. He doesn’t look angry, or upset in any way. He looks…flabbergasted.

“That’s what that kiss meant?” he says.

Steve nods, unable to speak. He’s spent all his words. About two years’ worth of pent-up emotions have just spilled out of him, and all he can do is wait for Eddie’s reaction.

That reaction, it turns out, is for Eddie to march over, tilt Steve’s head back with a hand under his chin, and kiss him like his life depends on it.

This kiss is firm, but sweet. It’s sure, but inquisitive. Once again, Eddie’s lips are on his, and this time Steve doesn’t pull away. There’s nothing wild or carnal about it, but by the time it’s over, he can hardly breathe.

Eddie doesn’t go very far when he breaks it. As Steve opens his eyes, Eddie’s face fills his vision, and he murmurs, “I mean it, too.”

Steve gazes up at him, acutely aware of the fingers till lifting his head. His heart is hammering in his chest, like he’s at a dead sprint instead of seated on a locker room bench.

Eddie kisses him again. It’s soft and quick, but no less passionate than before. “We really should get going, Ace,” he whispers. “We both scored today—the team’ll expect us to make an appearance. But after that…”

When he trails off, Steve bites his lip. It’s still tingling from the electricity of Eddie’s last caress. “After that?” he murmurs.

“I bet I can convince Wheeler to bunk with Henderson tonight. You wanna come to my room, and we can celebrate alone?”

“Sure.” Steve lets out a breathless chuckle as every bit of anxiety drains out of him. “I mean…that goal deserves some kind of reward.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie au #steddie sports au event #author stuff

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a-court-of-lust-and-stardust · 4 months ago

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Love on Ice Chapter 20: The Brothers and Sisters

Thank you all for the love on this fic and the artwork! Charlie and I are so grateful :)

17 Days until Competition

Azriel’s body was exhausted. His life consisted of waking up, working out, ice dancing practice, hockey practice, playoff games, repeat. Hockey was as easy as breathing. There was nothing new to learn, and he could shoot slapshots expertly with a blindfold on, truly. Rocking his teammates and unsuspecting opponents into the boards was an added bonus.

Practice with Elain was tiresome, as they were pushing themselves a bit harder now that there was officially a little more than two weeks until the competition, but even more so mentally and emotionally exhilarating. There was only one new move left to incorporate into their routine. Elain was smiling more, and finally not beating herself up over small mistakes. She was having fun, and being silly and carefree and fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He just hoped that their friendship, the relationship they’ve built thus far, would continue even after the competition. His heart squeezed at the thought it might not.

Though Azriel wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and escape the world for eight hours, he was glad his two brothers twisted his arm into heading to the bar for the night. A cold glass of whiskey called his name as soon as he’d stepped over the threshold.

“How’s Feyre and Nyx?” Azriel asked Rhys over the thrum of the music. It’d been a few weeks since Azriel had last seen the two of them, and he promised himself he would carve out time in his busy schedule to visit Rhys’s family soon. Feyre had always been a sweetheart, a pleasure to be around, and Nyx was growing every single day. He wanted to be a present figure in his nephew’s life.

Rhys beamed whenever the opportunity to talk about his wife and child presented itself. He settled back into the red leather booth with something akin to a lovesick smile on his face. “Perfect, as usual. Feyre is a darling, and Nyx said his first word over the weekend. Take a guess what it was.”

“Mom?” Azriel guessed, already imagining Feyre leaping for joy.

“Prick?” Cassian wondered, dodging an ice cube from Rhys’s bourbon. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“No, but you are,” Rhys said, flicking water off his fingers. His lips twitched. “It was Dada.”

“Oh shit. How pissed was Feyre?” Cassian asked, eyes round with childlike glee as he swigged from his beer.

Rhys smirked, the picture of fatherly pride etched on his face. “She threw a shoe at my head when I teased her about it.” He turned to Cassian, one brow cocked. “And you? Are you still panting after Nesta?”

Azriel almost sputtered his drink at the crazed look that crossed Cassian’s face. “Your damn fucking right I am. I have done everything I can possibly think of to impress this woman, and she will not budge. I think she blocked my number, she won’t answer the damn door when I visit, and when I do happen to see her, she all but says four words to me. And it’s usually ‘Cassian, please fuck off.”

Rhys howled with laughter, shooting him a pitiful smile.

Azriel’s forehead pinched in concentration as he racked through his brain for something Elain had mentioned to him once before. Something that all the sisters loved. “The next time you see Nesta, bring her a box of chocolate milk.”

Cassian blinked, grasping Azriel’s shoulder and leaning in conspiratorially. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

Azriel sipped his whiskey with a shrug. “Trust me.”

“Trust the guy who can’t even confess his true feelings to Elain? I’ll pass.” Cassian jested with a snort.

“What’s going on with you two, anyway?” Rhys questioned genuinely, twirling the liquid in his glass. Violet eyes pinned him with a look. Neither one of them had spoken about the incident at the ice rink weeks prior.

Azriel’s heart faltered, but his face gave nothing away. “There’s nothing going on between me and Elain. I mean…we made it to the friendship stage, and if that’s all we ever become, it’s worth it just to have her in my life in some capacity.”

“I call bullshit,” Cassian said, pointing a finger in Azriel’s face. He was half tempted to swat it. “You’ve been obsessed with that girl since you were nineteen.”

Hazel eyes bulged, nearly rolling out of his head. “Could you be any louder?” Azriel hissed, eyes darting around the bar for any potential eavesdroppers. Thankfully, everyone in Rita’s was either preoccupied with liquor or grinding half naked underneath strobe lights.

“You didn’t deny it,” Rhys observed, raising his glass in salute when Azriel scowled. The bastards weren’t going to drop the subject, it seemed. “Even when you competed against each other, you couldn’t get her out of your head.”

Azriel slumped into the booth, lips set in a hard line. He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t want to think about how he’d been a nineteen year old boy, who saw a beautiful girl and just wanted to get to know her. He didn’t want to think about how he’d spent years secretly pining after her, all the while she viewed him as nothing more than competition. He didn’t want to think about how he admired every piece of her, and spent the days he and Morrigan bickered, wishing Elain was his partner instead. He didn't want to think about how his best sleep came when visions of her infiltrated his dreams. He couldn’t think about her doe eyes or pink lips or the way her laugh had quickly become his favorite sound. He refused to think about the way her skin felt under his fingertips, because his mind would wander to all the hidden places he’d beg to kiss and touch and taste. Because if he thought about all of those things, for even a moment too long, he would be reminded of just how impossible it was to be hers.

“I–it—it doesn’t matter what I feel for her. Nothing will come of this.”

“Why?” Cassian asked, voice losing its playfulness.

“Because she– she doesn’t do relationships, as she so kindly reiterates to me every single damn day. They’re distractions for her,” Azriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He definitely needed more alcohol, nodding his head in gratitude toward Rhys, who had taken it upon himself to order another round. “We’re just skating partners. Friends. That’s it. I just–I hope that's not all this will ever be. I want,” He looked at his brothers, cheeks tinged pink. “I want so much more with her. But if that doesn’t happen, I’ll accept it. I’ll take whatever she’s willing to offer. I’ll respect whatever choice she makes.”

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look. Thankfully, they didn’t press any further.

In Feyre’s home, the sisters surrounded themselves with pillows, blankets, and ceramic bowls of various small treats. Wine glasses were drained and refilled, smiles were sleepy, and music played softly from the vinyl in the corner of the room, lulling little Nyx to sleep against his mother’s chest.

Elain was content. Throughout the night, she grinned and joked and laughed more than she allowed herself to in months. Somehow she'd forgotten just how much she missed her sisters. She understood, though. They were off living different lives and starting families. All of their priorities had changed, but from the moment they vowed to rekindle their relationship, they promised to always find time for a snack and wine night filled with gossip and childhood memories, even the worst of them.

Feyre had just finished flipping through her sketchbook, showing different versions of a family portrait she wanted to paint and hang in her home, before Nesta jumped into a ten minute monologue about how she apparently ‘could not stand Cassian’. Elain didn’t bother pointing out that for someone who couldn’t stand him, she sure as hell had a lot to say about him. With a pink tint to her cheeks, no less. No, Elain decided to let Nesta figure out her feelings when she was ready. She knew Cassian would wait forever, anyway.

“How’s skating been?” Feyre whispered, smoothing the hair on the back of her son’s head. Soft baby snores left his parted lips as he settled further into her embrace.

Elain beamed at the small boy, stroking his fist. He was the perfect mixture of both her sister and brother-in-law. “It’s been…fun, actually.”

“Fun?” Nesta snorted, licking red wine from her lips before popping a pretzel piece in her mouth. “I don’t remember the last time you called skating fun. Probably when we were kids.”

“I mean it,” She said, shifting to sit on her knees under the blanket. “I’ve been enjoying it. Don’t mistake me, I’m still working hard but I–I feel light and–happy, I suppose.”

“Uh huh,” Nesta smirked knowingly over her glass. Elain’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Could this have anything to do with a certain, oh I don’t know, Azriel?” Feyre wiggled her brows the best she could.

Softly, Elain whispered, “Perhaps.” A smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

“You still haven’t fucked him yet?” Nesta asked with an air of nonchalance Elain almost found it offensive.

“I–Nesta, no!” Elain exclaimed, covering her mouth when Nyx stirred. “No, I haven't slept with him.”

“Okay but are you going to?”

“I–I don’t know,” Elain glared at her older sister who couldn’t be bothered to hold back her Cheshire grin. “I do not mix business with pleasure. That’s unprofessional, number one. And number two, the last thing I need is to take my eyes off the prize. I’ve worked too hard. Hours upon hours, training upon training. I’m so close. If Mama even knew either of you were trying to get me to entertain the idea of sleeping with my partner, she’d have your tongues.”

Silence stretched between them before Feyre spoke.

“Mama’s dead, Elain,” She said quietly, delicate fingers grazing the buttons on the back of Nyx’s blue onesie. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

Elain let out an exasperated puff of air, rubbing the crease from her forehead as she grabbed her glass from the table. She said a silent prayer that Feyre had at least two spare bottles. “Doing what?”

“Trying to please her,” Nesta cut in, liquid swirling in her glass. “You’re keeping a dead woman’s dream alive, and for what?” She challenged, hard blue eyes pinning Elain to her spot on the gray suede sofa.

And for the first time that night, Elain was rendered speechless, if only temporarily. Had she been asked this question years ago, Elain wouldn’t have had an answer. Or if she had, she wouldn't have dared speak it aloud.

But what good would it do her if she constantly kept her emotions buried down deep? To keep people at arms length? Her sisters had tried to strengthen their bond over the years, but skating had kept her preoccupied. Mama had kept her preoccupied. She’d missed so many movie nights and sleepovers and belly laughs. So much gossip and sisterly advice and joy. And maybe Mama had taken these opportunities from her, but how much power would Elain continue to let her have, even in death?

So, with her eyes jumping from sister to sister, Elain whispered her truth. “Because I–I just wanted her to be proud of me the way she was proud of the both of you. I don’t know if she ever was.”

“Why does it matter if that hag was proud of you or not?” Nesta asked, rolling her eyes at the glare from her youngest sister. “You do not need her acceptance.”

“You and Feyre always had Mama’s approval,” Elain said, harshly biting into a piece of dark chocolate. “I didn’t. You couldn’t possibly know what it was like for me when I was constantly regarded as a failure. Nothing I ever did pleased her. Not cooking, not gardening, not sewing. Those skills did not call forth attention to our family. That’s what mattered to Mama. Wealth, status, recognition.”

“She saw something I loved and she took advantage of it. I never wanted to compete. I never wanted to perform. I skated on the lake because it was exciting and it made me happy, but that wasn’t enough for her,” A rogue tear escaped past her lashes. “Mama had a child prodigy painter, an exceptionally gifted dancer, and Elain.”

And that’s all she’d ever been. Pretty, sweet Elain. Completely plain and entirely forgettable. Boring. An embarrassment to her family. Tucked away in the shadows of her sisters’ success. Unable to have a passion unless it could be of use to someone else.

“I started to hate it,” she continued, quickly draining the rest of her wine. Nesta grabbed the bottle and didn’t hesitate to refill it. “No part of it appealed to me, not when it felt like a chore, a duty to not only show the world that Mama had three successful daughters, but to make myself desirable, too.”

Because it wasn’t good enough for Mama to have a happy daughter. She needed to be accomplished in something Mama found worthy. Cooking and sewing and gardening would never help Elain become a household name. But establishing herself as a renowned competitive skater? Yes, that would do it.

“There were times I wanted to hang up my skates and quit but I–,” Elain paused, misty-eyed. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t fail her. So I practiced harder routines and longer hours to become the best, or as close to the best as I could possibly be, and in the end it didn’t matter. None of this matters, because I have nothing to show for it.”

And maybe that’s what bothered her the most. She’d spent her life doing as she was told. Molding herself into someone who would be revered, admired. Practicing until she was as perfect as she could be. And it didn’t matter anyway, because everything was still the same. Had she wasted years trying to exceed expectations that were unrealistic in the first place? Had she spent the entirety of her adolescence and young adulthood trying to please others, losing herself in the process?

“Fuck Mama,” Nesta said, innocently shrugging a shoulder as her sisters shot equally bewildered looks her way. She had no qualms about speaking ill of a dead woman. “She spent her life trying to mold you into something you didn’t want to be. It wasn’t fair and she shouldn’t,” Her nostrils flared. “She shouldn’t have put that kind of pressure on you, Elain.”

That’s what it had been. The pressure to perform, compete, please. Pressure to be accepted. Pressure to be acknowledged. Pressure to uphold an image. Pressure to be good enough. And everything being met with failure.

“Mama was incredibly vain,” Feyre agreed. Then, more quietly, “Her main priority was making sure everyone knew she had accomplished daughters. That she had money, and accolades, even if those were by extension and not directly her achievements.” Feyre reached out, softly placing a tattooed hand over her sister’s knee. “But she's not here, Elain. She doesn't have control over you anymore, not unless you let her. You didn’t have the freedom to make your own choices then but…you do now.”

Choice. She’d never really had one before.

“The things that we love can just be the things that we love. They do not have to be careers. They do not have to bring us wealth or status. They do not have to be used for any reason other than bringing you happiness or confidence or peace.” Feyre smiled. “Isn't it enough to just…love what you do?” She wondered.

“You sound like Azriel,” Elain sniffed, rolling her eyes as she brushed away the remnants of tears with the wrist of her cobalt sweater.

“Sounds to me like he knows what he’s talking about,” Nesta said, fingernails tapping against the neck of her glass. “Seriously, though. How are things between you two?”

A warm feeling made its home in her chest. “He’s wonderful. He challenges me and believes in me and I think–.” She swallowed apprehensively. “He's part of why I’m starting to love it again.”

“Are you attracted to him?” Nesta pried, a smirk painted on red lips.

Elain blushed the color of her wine. “Of course I am. But it’s-it’s more than that. I like him. A lot, actually. As in I have been falling very hard for weeks and don’t know what to do about it.”

Feyre and Nesta exchanged matching grins.

Elain’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, but even she couldn’t suppress the spreading smile on her own cheeks. “And yes,” She swallowed another gulp of wine. “I–I want him. But this is new territory for me and I’m terrified I won’t be good enough. I’ve already disappointed Mama, and the thought of ever disappointing Azriel makes me feel sick. After everything I just…want to be good enough for someone.”

There had, of course, been brief fleeting moments where Elain had wanted to experiment with dating. Even if she had devoted her life to skating, underneath it all, she was simply a woman who wanted to experience love and sex and romance at least once in her life. Not just from hearing about her sisters’ relationships or listening to Nesta describe her favorite books, either.

“Oh El, this is Azriel we’re talking about,” Feyre said gently, placing a hand on Elain’s knee. “The kindest, most patient man any of us have ever known. There’s nothing, and I mean nothing you could do, that would ever disappoint him.”

Elain sunk further into the plush sofa. “I know that. I do, really. And I know he…likes me, too. Very much, if I’m being honest.” Elain smirked, wine swishing in the glass. “He's not exactly subtle.”

“I think it’s about time you let yourself be happy,” Nesta affirmed, snagging a treat off the plate in front of her, offering the rest to her sisters. “Mama deprived you of so many things, Elain. Don’t continue the cycle. You’re so much stronger than she ever gave you credit for. This is your life, and only you can choose how to live it,” Nesta’s eyes glittered. “Fucking live it.”

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

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mamaestapa · 2 years ago

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Confessions and Celebrations

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: You and Joe confess your love for one another and share a very intimate moment after the Bengals win…(CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT!)

•word count: 3.3k

•warnings: fluff, confession of love, SMUT, lots of foreplay, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!!) fingering, joe loving on the readers piercing and tattoo, heavy make out.

series masterlist

——————————————————

January 16, 2023

You let out a shaky breath as you pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. You just got home from the eventful night at Paycor stadium.

The Bengals beat the Ravens 24-17, meaning the Bengals are moving on to the divisional round of the playoffs! The team will be traveling to Buffalo next weekend, playing against the Bills to see who will head to the AFC Championship game.

You couldn't be more proud of those guys, especially Joe. They've worked so hard all season.

Speaking of Joe, tonight the game made you realize something. Something you’ve tried to push away and pretend it wasn't there. But you now know you can't deny it anymore.

You have feelings for Joe. Actually, screw having feelings for him.

You’re in love with Joe. And as scared as you are to tell him how you feel, you plan on telling him tonight when he gets home from the stadium. The girls asked you to go to the bar and celebrate the win with them and the guys, but you declined. You knew you had to talk to Joe about my feelings, and it couldn't be at a place like a crowded bar in Cincinnati after a Bengals victory.

You went up to apartment B30 and unlocked the door with slightly shaky hands. You opened the door and went into the apartment, setting your purse down on the counter before you sat down on the barstool. You glanced at your phone, seeing that it was close to midnight. You took a deep breath and gulped anxiously as you realized Joe would be home very soon. You needed to think about what you wanted to say to him, and fast.

You were sitting on the barstool, nervously playing with the small golden necklace with your first initial around your neck. You only play with your jewelry when you’re extremely anxious about something. You guess this is one of those times. As you were turning the dangling initial charm and going over what you wanted to say to Joe, the door to the apartment opened. You turned the chair to face the front door. Joe walked in and set his bag down on the ground so he could lock the door. He turned around with a sigh as he ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair. He must have showered before he left the stadium. As soon as his eyes landed on you, a soft smile appeared on his face. You stood up from the barstool and gave him a small smile. Here we go. You thought.

You took a deep breath before you said his name. "Joe-."

You didn't have time react as Joe rushed up to you and smashed his lips against yours. You took a step back, slightly taken aback by the sudden kiss. However, you didn't pull away. You kissed him back with just as much passion as he did. It felt like fireworks were exploding in the background behind you as the butterflies in your stomach swarmed wildly. Your mouths moved in sync as Joe wrapped an arm around your waist as his other hand was pressed firmly against the middle of your back. You both pulled away for a second before connecting your lips once again. You put your hand against his cheek, pulling him as close as you possibly could. You and Joe pulled away at the same time. Joe grabbed your left hand and held it in his own. He then pressed his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that Y/n." Joe breathed out, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You smiled and let out a soft laugh, "I love you Joe."

He grinned, "I love you too."

"I wish I would have said something sooner I was just too worried you didn't feel the same way." you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/n," Joe said softly, his tone matching yours, "I've been in love with you since the moment I met you."

Your heart soared at his confession. You were so happy to hear he feels the same way about you as you do about him. You pulled your forehead away from his and looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze full of love as he looked back down at you. You got up on your tip toes and gave him another kiss, needing another taste of his lips before you went your separate ways for the night. You pulled away from him, wetting your lips as you made eye contact with him again. As you stayed in each others embrace and looked into each others love filled eyes, you could practically feel the tension growing. The er, sexual tension, that is. The tension that has been building up for months and months and months, now practically begging to be broken.

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth as you looked into Joe's eyes. As your eyes scanned his features, you knew you needed to do something. you needed more than just his lips.

"Joe," you spoke, your breath hitching as you locked your eyes with his. His hands reached for yours and he squeezed them gently.

"I need you." you breathed out. That was all he needed to hear and before I knew it, Joe was leading me into his bedroom...

Joe pushed you down onto the bed, your plump lips meeting his. He carefully moved himself so he was hovering over your body. He brought his lips away from yours and began to kiss at your neck. You brought your hands up into Joe's blonde locks, gently tugging at the loose strands. You let out a soft whine at the feeling of Joes mouth against the sensitive skin of your neck. He began to kiss down your neck, stopping once he got to your collarbone. He pulled his head away from you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. His other hand trailed down the fabric of your black long sleeved shirt.

"I think you have too many clothes on..." he trailed off, hooking his fingers under your shirt.

He slowly brought his head up to your ear, "let's fix that." He whispered, causing you to involuntarily bite your lip as goose bumps rose across your body. Too overwhelmed to say anything, you just nodded, giving Joe permission to remove your shirt. Joe slowly pulled the long sleeve off of your body, throwing it onto the floor of his bedroom. He licked his lips at the sight in front of him. You had on a black lace bra. The sight of your breasts sitting perfectly in the cups lined with lace made Joe grow harder just looking at them.

But what got Joe even more aroused was the flower tattoo on the valley of your breasts and your perfectly pierced belly button—the one you told him about that night months ago when the power went out.

"Holy fuck," he practically groaned as his eyes scanned your body, "you're so beautiful."

You chuckled at his words. "I told you if you were lucky you'd get to see the tattoo."

Joe raised his eyebrows, "Am I lucky?"

You smirked, bringing your hand down to the tattoo on your chest, trailing your hand down your torso and stopping at the waist band of your leather leggings

"I guess we'll have to find out." you teased.

Joe brought his head back down to your collarbone, continuing where he left off before he stopped to take your shirt off. He gently sucked at your soft skin. When he removed his lips from you, reddish purple blotches were already starting to appear. It would be clear to anyone that saw you in the next couple days that you were busy celebrating a Bengals victory.

Joe left a trail of kisses from your collar bone to your chest, paying extra attention to the tattoo that was between your breasts. He then started to gently kiss down your belly. The touch of Joe's soft lips making you shiver. You threw your head back and placed your hands on Joes shoulders as he paid attention to your tummy. Joe placed one of his hands on your ribs, his soft kisses stopped as he got to your belly button. He gently bit down on the jewelry that adorned your navel, causing you to bring your hands down to Joes hair again. Who knew an act so simple could be so hot.

Joe chuckled against the skin of your tummy. He looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes full of lust. "You like that?" He questioned, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Mhm." you breathed out, completed blissed out by his actions.

He chuckled once again, bringing his head back down. However, his eyes stayed glued to yours as his tongue played with your piercing, flicking the jewelry. Your breathing grew heavy as Joe hooked his fingers under the waistband of your leggings. He placed another kiss on your belly and moved so his face was now only inches away from yours.

"I want to make sure you're okay with this. If you don't want me to keep going-."

You smashed your lips against his, pulling away and placing your forehead against his, "I want you to keep going."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded, "I've never been more sure in my life."

With your words of confirmation, Joe placed his hands on your thighs, gripping onto your clothed legs. He brought one of his hands up to your waistband, taking a long finger and tracing it down your clothed crotch to the inside of your thigh.

"Take 'em off." you begged, desperate for Joe's touch on your bare skin, "please."

Joe smirked, "Don't mind if I do."

He pulled your leather leggings off with ease, almost as if he's done this many times before. Which, you were sure he has. He was with his ex for many years before you were even in the picture, and even you have had your fair share of hookups.

But this felt different—almost special, for both you and Joe. Months of sexual tension would come to an end in just moments.

With your leggings off, you were left in just your bra and matching black lace thong. Joe licked his lips at the sight of you. You looked up at him with those doe eyes Joe found himself getting lost in every time he locked eyes with you.

"It's not fair that I'm practically naked and you're not." you said, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.

Joe got up from the bed, standing in front of you, and making it a show to take his belt off and pull his jeans down to his ankles. Once they were off he tossed them into a pile with your clothes.

You bit your lip at the sight in front of you. Joe stood in front of you clad in black boxers. His thick thighs on display now that his jeans were off, and his broad chest, defined abdomen and muscular arms looked absolutely divine in the lighting of Joe's bedroom.

"Like what you see sweets?"

Your cheeks grew red, the pet name making you feel your pulse in other areas of your body. Joe chuckled as he took a few steps closer to you. You laid back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as Joe passionately kissed you. He gently pushed you down on the bed, his lips still attached to yours. You wrapped your arms around Joe, letting your manicured nails softly trail down his bare back. Joe pulled back from you, looking at you with his lust filled eyes. You eyed Joe as you hooked your index finger under the waistband of your thong, pulling the lace material down your legs. Joe glanced down, a smirk on his face as he saw your glistening folds.

"You're so wet and I haven't even touched you yet," he smugly stated.

You whined at his words, your hands reaching out to grasp his biceps. He leaned down and smashed his lips against yours, both of your mouths moving in sync. He pulled away, his blue eyes soft but full of so much lust.

"I want to touch you Y/n."

"Please..." you whined.

As soon as you gave him permission, Joe brought his hand down to your right thigh, stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his hands on your skin. His fingers hovered over your clit, making you squirm with anticipation. He placed one finger into your entrance as he circled your sensitive clit. You gasped at the feeling, beginning to buck your hips beneath his touch. He pushed your hips down with his other hand, pressing onto your lower belly to hold you still.

"You gotta stay still for me."

You just nodded, arching your back slightly as Joe started to pump his fingers in and out, rhythmically.

"Hmph-Joe." you moaned out. You were completely taken over by a feeling of bliss, feeling yourself grow closer and closer to your orgasm.

He smirked at you as you grabbed onto his forearm, digging your nails into his skin as his muscles flexed with each swift movement of his fingers.

"Joe," you breathed out, "I'm so close-uh."

He thrusted his fingers into you one more time before pulling them out which caused you to whine. Joe eyed you carefully as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He slowly removed his index finger from his mouth with a pop.

"You taste so fucking good."

You bit your bottom lip at his words, you knew you needed him badly.

"Joe, I need you,” you whined, pleading for him to be inside you.

Joe smirked and placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers trailing up your tummy and eventually cupping your left breast. He reached around your back and unclasped your bra with ease. The black lace material fell off your chest, leaving you fully exposed. You blushed as you saw Joe looking over your naked body. You were starting to feel bashful as his eyes stayed on your body. You tried to cover yourself, but Joe gently grabbed your wrists and shook his head.

"Don't. There's no need to be shy, sweets. You look absolutely gorgeous."

You smiled softly at him, pulling your hands away from your bare breasts. Joe pulled his boxers down, throwing them to the side. Your eyes fell to Joes erection.

"Are you ready?"

You nodded. Joe hovered over you, gently grabbing your hand and holding it as he kissed you with passion. He pulled away and lined himself up with your entrance, slowly thrusting into you. You whined as your hips began jerking up at the sensation.

"O-Oh! Fuck-Joe."

He was big-very big and you weren’t quite used to his size. Joe's hands gripped your hips, trying to control your movements every time he thrusted into you. Your nails scratched down his back as his thrusts grew deeper. You whimpered as his cock pushed against your cervix. You were overcome with a feeling of pleasure, something you hadn't felt in months. Arching your back, you moaned out Joe's name as you grew overstimulated.

"S' too," She breathed out, "mhm, much."

"You can take it, beautiful." Joe grunted. He knew both of you were needy and deprived; however, he made sure to be gentle with you, not wanting to hurt you.

Your breathing picked up as you brought your hands up to Joes head, pulling strands of his messy blonde hair. He buried his face in your neck, groaning softly. Both of your bodies molded together perfectly, moving in sync with each other. You moaned as Joe picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"Oh Joe," you moaned, your face contorting into that look of pleasure. A bead of sweat trickled down Joe's forehead, as he let out a grunt.

"God, you feel so good."

Your breathing grew quicker as you felt a familiar warmth pool in your lower belly.

"I'm so close." You whined as Joe’s thrusts sped up. He squeezed your hand, both of your moans filling the room every time Joe thrusted into you.

"Joe," you whimpered, "I'm gonna-mmh.” you moaned incoherently.

"That's it," Joe grunted, "cum for me, sweets."

Joe moaned as your walls tightened around him, signaling that you were very close to coming down from your high. Within moments, you cried out in complete bliss as you came on Joe's cock. His grip on your hand tightening as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you were overcome with pleasure. Joe grunted as he thrusted into you a couple more times before he himself came. The two were now glistening with sweat. He leaned down and kissed your plump lips as you both caught your breath and came down from your high. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours as both of your chests heaved. He pulled out of you and plopped down on the bed next to you.

"That was amazing." you breathed out, chest still heaving.

Joe chuckled, "You were amazing."

You turned to face him, quirking an eyebrow up, "Really?"

He nodded, turning his body so he could face you as he replied, "The best I've ever had."

You blushed at his words. You cant believe this all just happened. For weeks now, you and Joe have had very strong feelings for each other. Of course, you never told each other until tonight, but it was very obvious. It was only a matter of time before something happened between the two of you. Joe opened his arms and gestured for you to come closer to him. You moved yourself closer, curling up against his body and laying your head on his chest. He draped his left arm around you and pulled the comforter of his bed over your naked bodies. You sighed in contentment as you listened to his heartbeat.

This all didn't feel real to you. This all felt like a dream. You and Joe finally confessed your feelings for each other tonight. You kissed for the first time tonight. You had sex for the first time tonight. So much has happened tonight and you couldn't be happier.

Joe Burrow truly is something special.

Your mind wandered to when the two of you first met. You and Joe didn't get along, at all. But as time went on, you slowly warmed up to each other and realized the other wasn’t so bad after all. Eventually, he became more than just your roommate. He became your friend. Then you started to get those butterflies every time you got home and saw him on the couch or when he was out on that field at Paycor. That's when you realized he was more than just a friend and a roommate to you. You felt your eyes grow heavy as Joe pulled you closer to him.

"Goodnight Joe."

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, "Goodnight."

Joe began to gently stroke his fingers along your arm, soon lulling you to a peaceful sleep.

Now, you don't know what the future holds for you and Joe, but after tonight, you know it's going to be great, no matter what.

hi loves!!

well the wait is finally over and the moment we've all been waiting for is finally here... you and Joe confessed to one another, woo hoo! aren't y’all just too sweet🥹

although i do love a good tooth rotting fluff chapter, i figured i'd add some smut to this chapter too because who doesn't love that? ;)

i deeply apologize if the smut was underwhelming, not good, and not what you were expecting. i tried my best! (please be nice if you absolutely hated it lol)

this story will be coming to an end very soon! can you believe it? i sure cant! the next chapters just include establishing a relationship, some more cute little chapters, and then some instagram chapters.

i want to take a moment and thank all of you for reading this book and supporting me through it. without your kind words and encouragement, i probably wouldn't have stuck with this book. i love all of you so much🤍

i hope you're all doing well!

tags: @jackharloww @ilovejoeburroww @dandelionwrites8 @ijustcrypretty @sinners-98-world @a-moment-captured @stainednailpolishremover @spooky-stoner @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kkrenae

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #welcome to the jungle #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut

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