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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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EVERYONE MUST READ THIS IMMEDIATELY ❗️❗️

im literally a puddle of tears rn this was so so sweet & wholesome 💓💓

LATE NIGHT TALKING

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which it’s part of his routine for Quinn Hughes to talk to Fem!Reader’s baby bump.

Quinn had never really been one for routines. It wasn’t as though life really let him have them with all the things it’s hurdled, but there were a few things he still managed to do regularly. Like his extensive skin care, and the way he had something sweet after lunch every day, or the way he kissed the tip of Y/N’s nose twice and then her lips before he got up every morning.

Most importantly, it was the way he tiptoed into the quiet house in the dead of night, making his way to admire the happy little nursery room they’ve put together while running his fingers over the soft blanket waiting for their baby's arrival, and then winded up curled by Y/N’s legs at the foot of their bed as he lifted her shirt over her swollen belly and planted a little kiss to her skin.

It was comical almost, with his tall stature and his long, muscled limbs, but Quinn made it work. He loved being eye level with their baby, even if he wasn’t really seeing them, and he wasn’t really sure where their eyes even were. But it was a set routine, one he cherished greatly, one that gave him just a semblance of something calm and soft and safe in his life.

"Hey, bubs.” Quinn murmured, rubbing soft circles into her baby bump as he spoke with his lips pressed against her skin. "Your mom hates when I call you that. It's why I’ve gotta do it.” He chuckled.

Y/N was pretty sure Quinn could think of a new pet name every day, that their child could very well grow up without hearing the same one twice for as long as he was around. His list never seemed to stop growing from new additions, and it won't.

"Today wasn't too interesting, you'd be bored.” Quinn sighed, almost like he was reliving the uneventful day he had. “Good thing you're all toasty in there.” He gave her skin a soft pat. “I’d live in here too if I could. Seems pretty nice. No bills to pay, free food, sleep whenever you want. You’re really living the dream life there, bubs."

Quinn planted another kiss to her skin, trailing pecks along until he met Y/N’s bellybutton. He smiled, letting himself relax for the first time all day as he closed his eyes and sighed as his figure sunk deeper into the mattress.

"Tonight’s game was rough.” Quinn huffed, lips curling slightly into a pout as he spoke. “No cool stories for you tonight, sorry about that. Tomorrow’s should be good, and I get to play against your uncle Trevor. That’s exciting.” His voice picked back up a spark at that, and then he felt a little kick under his palm. "You like Trevor, huh? Yeah, he's fun to pester.” Quinn laughed softly. “But you better not like him more than me. I’m cooler, funnier, and I’m way less annoying.” He rolled his eyes.

Y/N perked up at the sound of Quinn’s voice reaching her ears. She was woken up from her sleep with a tickling sensation around her body, steady breathing slowly hiccuping as she woke herself up. She felt a gentle graze on her baby bump, tickling the hairs that had grown long due to the changes her body faced. His thumb circled the swell of the stretched skin, peppering pecks along her body before planting his cheek to her belly.

"Quinn, please go to back sleep.” Y/N groaned. “It’s late, baby." But then her fingers slid into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he sighed softly at the feeling.

"Hey, I’m having a very important father and child bonding moment here.” Quinn insisted.

"Well, you can continue having it in the morning.” Y/N hummed and her voice lilted to a tease, barely noticeable with the sleep still lacing it but he clicked his tongue because he heard it, anyway.

"But you're even grumpier in the morning, you'll cut our time short. It’s very important to build trust and communication with your little ones if you want a healthy relationship. You should read more.” Quinn said matter-of-factly, and she almost wanted to kick him off the bed (though she was sure he wouldn’t really move if she tried).

"Our little one is gonna have chronic migraines from the womb if you keep this up.” Y/N muttered, and there was a giddy little grin across his face as she spoke, one she felt through his lips that were still pressed against her belly.

Her fingers didn’t stop gently stroking through his locks, and his palm was still rubbing slow circles against her skin. For a moment, even with an unborn child and a slightly irritated Y/N, Quinn had a picture perfect little family in his hands. One he never really thought would be his.

"I have to keep our baby updated, you know.” He murmured. “You’re too boring. They don't get fun stories all day when I’m not around."

“I don't think you're supposed to tell infants about what happens during some of those hockey games." Y/N muttered. “What if they have nightmares?"

"Can’t be worse than hearing you talk about which vegetables to get for dinner.” Quinn shrugged, chuckling lowly when she swatted at his shoulder.

Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek lightly against her baby bump as he hummed in content. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked, how perfect her bump was and amazing she had taken to mother-hood before their baby was even here.

Tomorrow would be another day with new burdens and more uncertainties, but right here and right now, the world stopped turning for a moment and let him catch up, let him steal a moment without asking for anything in return.

"Someone has to be the responsible parent.” Y/N snorted.

"And someone has to be the cool one.” Quinn countered. One last kiss to her belly, and then he was shuffling up the mattress to be eye to eye with her now. She stared into his orbs for a moment, lingering on the slight glossiness that seemed to appear every night after he's had his routine conversation.

"At least we can say we're pretty balanced parents.” Y/N whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. He smiled, and it was watery, relieved even, but still just a little bit unsure.

"We could say we're cool ones if it weren't for you.” Quinn teased, chasing her retreating lips and pressing his firmly against them. It was a soft kiss, one that poured love into her lungs. It was the kind that seeped into her skin and melted into her bones, the same love that came in a form of another kick to her belly. "Our baby thinks I’m cool. See? They’re trying to tell you.”

Y/N huffed, reaching for his hand and placing it over her bump. She watched his eyes soften at the pressure against his palm, watching the way his lips twitched upwards as joy painted over the canvas of his face. His stare locking with hers and even if she couldn’t see the lower half of his face, she knew that Quinn was smiling brightly.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Quinn whispered quietly under his breath, his soft smile growing with each passing second. Almost instantly, his other hand went right to the baby bump. The warm feeling of pure love spread through his veins just at the subtle touch of her smooth, stretched skin underneath his.

Quinn has never been in love until he met Y/N. He still remembered the first time her hand fit through his and squeezed when she knew he was nervous, and now it served as his reminder to exhale. He remembered how Y/N looked in his jersey with his name written across her back for the first time and the heat in his cheeks. He remembered the tremble in his fingers when he first asked to kiss her, and he still remembered the beat in his chest when she actually said yes and how gentle her fingers felt.

Quinn was becoming softer and warmer, he realized before he was rolling his eyes at his own lovesick thoughts. But a gentle sort of realization clicked into place when he looked at her this time and he had never been so sure of anything in his life when he muttered a quick, “I love you.” He felt his world settle into place when Y/N nuzzled closer to his chest because late nights like this made Quinn thankful that the first person he ever fell in love with, was her.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart.” Quinn repeated sweetly, each word dripping in pure adoration while he drew light shapes on her belly and locked his gaze with hers. Even after three years together, his effect on her never wore off and her cheeks heated up with blush. “I love seeing you wear my clothes, you know.” He continued, a look full of wonder and happiness painted across his face.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she remembered the only thing she was dressed in was Quinn’s button up. He almost laughed at her expression, but he was still in complete awe of her. “None of my clothes fit anymore, so I was looking in your closest and I found this shirt. It’s really comfy and oversized enough for the baby bump. Hope you don’t mind that I stole it.” She explain sheepishly, cheeks becoming rosy.

Quickly, Quinn shook his head, making his messy hair fall over his forehead. A loving smile blossomed on his lips before he leaned in to kiss her deeply. His soft lips moved with hers for a moment and the rest of the world seemed to disappear. Gently pulling away and pressing a light kiss to her forehead, his beautiful eyes met hers. Admiration was evident in his gaze and he swore he had never been more in love than right now.

“I don’t mind one bit. Not only do you look breathtaking, but I’ll never get used to seeing your belly. Our baby’s in there. I still can’t believe that.” Quinn sighed happily, kissing the baby bump as delicately as possible. “This shirt just gives me more of an excuse to love on you and your growing baby bump.”

“I love you.” Y/N mumbled quietly, unable to find anything else to properly express her feelings for the man she adored. His smile reached his eyes, nothing but joy radiating off of him, and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

“I love you so much more.” Quinn whispered fondly, pecking her lips again before moving to her rounded belly. “And I love you too, bubs.” He spoke to the unborn baby who already had all his love. “Only a few months until I get to meet you.” He dropped his volume barely above a whisper as if the two were hiding a secret from Y/N. “Daddy’s going to love you so much.”

His hot breath hit her skin, slightly annoying her and making Y/N want to push his face away. Regardless, a warmth spread to her chest, making her heart flutter and her eyes to well up in tears. Her sniffle caught Quinn’s attention, interrupting a monologue that he was giving about ‘accepting them no matter who they choose to be.’

It's been said before, but it bears repeating: Quinn was a natural when it came to being a lover. He’d been by Y/N’s side through every trial and tribulation life has cruelly thrown at them. He’d willingly taken her pain during grief-stricken times and selflessly shared the burden. They’ve navigated the rollercoaster years of dating and parenthood with him, all the while watching him adapt to each role with unwavering patience and grace. Witnessing him be a dad-to-be made her firmly believe it was what he was made to do. It was written in the stars.

“What’s wrong?” The quip at the end released a sob from her, increasing Quinn’s concern. “Did I do something?”

Y/N nodded profusely, embarking Quinn to sit up where she was laying her back against the headboard. His hand situated itself on her lower back, rubbing softly as her back ached more than usual these months. She covered her mouth, her tears dripping down the moist skin, mumbling incomprehensible words.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?” Quinn asked more urgently, stretching his arm to pluck a tissue from the nightstand table, still not used to the fluctuating hormones. “I’m sorry, baby.” He apologized repeatedly, impelling Y/N to suddenly squeeze his cheeks between her hands, his mouth pinched together, thinning his words that were both comedic and endearing.

Y/N wiggled his face slowly, needing time to fully admire his handsome features and caring nature and God, she cannot believe that he was going to be the father to their little baby.

“Y/N?” Quinn questioned with a quirked brow, cheeks still compressed between her hands but his eyes glowed in amusement.

“You’re going to be such a good dad. Our baby is going to love you more than me and I can’t even blame them.” Y/N murmured, and the way her fingers suddenly moved from his hold to trace along the outline of his cheek bone seemed to catch him off guard, watching his eyes widen slightly, then soften at the gentleness of her touch.

Quinn cooed, his heart thumping harder at the image in his head. "Our baby.” He repeated quietly, testing the sound on his tongue as though it was new.

"All ours.” She promised, pressing one more tiny kiss to his lips before resting her head on his chest. And if she noticed there was a skip in his heartbeat, Quinn was glad she didn’t say anything. And even if he wasn’t really a man of routine, this part of his day never ceased to repeat, and he thought it was his favorite.

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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me throughout this entire fic: ^^

this was so so so so good 🤍🤍

I KNOW

Nico Hischier x Hughes sister!reader

• Off Limits Pt 2 • 6.2k words

Summary: Things between you and Nico are going well, but the two of you might not be as sneaky as you think.

Warnings: mild sexually suggestive content, 18+ MDNI

You don’t think he’s noticed yet. In all fairness, he’s pretty used to seeing you in a Devils jersey. It’s what you’d been wearing when the two of your first met, and most times you saw each other after that. Especially now that two of your brothers are on the team, you’re almost always wearing some form of NJD gear. This jersey is different, though.

Nico’s been at practice for most of the day. When you met him at his apartment, you'd taken the liberty of grabbing one of his jerseys from his closet and slid it over your head, and for good measure, ditched your pants, too. You’re waiting on the couch in nothing but the jersey, which he probably would’ve realized if he wasn’t so busy organizing all his gear, and telling you about the practice, and trying to eat a bit of the pasta you’d brought him all in the middle of it.

You see it when he notices, and you hear it, too. His talking stops, and his gaze freezes on you, on where you sit on the couch, bare legs crossed over each other. He blinks a couple times, and then his eyes grow even wider.

“Nice jersey,” he says, voice suddenly an octave lower.

You crane your neck to look down at the number 13 emblazoned across the shoulder and the captain’s C on the chest. “Oh. Had to rep my favorite player, you know.”

He nods, makes a sort of low humming noise. You just smile up at him, watching the way his cheeks flush. If you’d known it would have this effect on him, you’d have gotten yourself one of his jerseys a long time ago. Maybe before he even rescued you from that bar.

His gaze drags up and down your body. “Schatz.”

You cock your head and blink softly. “Yeah, Nico?”

He sets his plate down on the coffee table. It’s still half full of pasta. You watch him with soft eyes as he takes a few steps towards you, lips barely parted. He beckons you towards him with two bent fingers. You go without even thinking twice, up off the couch in seconds, the jersey falling to your mid thigh.

When you’re within arm’s reach, his hands come up to hold your shoulders, rubbing up and down gently. His eyes are all over you.

“Did you steal this from my closet?” He asks.

You nod, chewing on your lower lip. “Hope that’s okay.”

Nico rumbles out a laugh. He shakes his head, and then he brushes his lips against your temple, down the crest of your cheek, and against your jaw. He takes a couple steps, turns slightly, and then spins you around in his grip, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back tight against his front. You gasp at the maneuver, and your eyes flicker up to his reflection in the floor length mirror in front of you.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on your upper back- his last name, across your shoulders, you realize.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is hot, the rest of your skin getting there, too. There’s a look on his face- a mix of awe and affection and attraction. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear and takes a deep breath.

“It’s more than okay,” he says. One of his hands slips down to your bare thigh, toying with the hem of the jersey. “You should keep it on.”

You lean back against him, resting your head against his shoulder, never breaking eye contact in the mirror. “Yeah?”

He nods, and his hand slips up your thigh so he can squeeze your bare hip. He raises his eyebrows when he finds nothing there- no fabric, no underwear. You raise your eyebrows right back.

“But you’d better find some pants,” he says, nipping lightly at your jaw, “‘cause we’re going on a date.”

He’s gone within seconds, leaving you reeling. Your heart is racing, chest heaving, and he’s just- gone. You look at your reflection in bewilderment.

“What?” You call after him, turning around. “Nico, where are you going? What are-“

He pops his head out from around the hallway corner, and his cheeks are red and rosy. You almost stumble towards him, but something makes you stay planted there. Maybe this was too much. Maybe you’re coming on too strong.

“We’re going on a date,” he repeats. “Keep the jersey, find some pants. I’m taking a quick shower.”

You blink at him. “You just showered. Your hair is wet. You’re being weird.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Yes. I’m taking a cold shower. The jersey worked, schatz, but I have a date planned for us.”

Then he disappears. You hear the shower kick on a few seconds later, and the shocked yelp that follows. You turn back to the mirror and laugh at your reflection.

20 minutes later, you’re in his car. He’s freshly showered, and you’re wearing his jersey and a pair of leggings. He has his hand on your thigh, like he always does any chance he gets, away from prying eyes. You rest your hand on top of his and run your fingers over the veins. Five minutes out from your very secretive date- he hasn’t given you any details- he tells you to close your eyes.

“C’mon, it’s a surprise,” he says, squeezing your leg.

“But Nico-“

He laughs and lifts his hand, placing it over your eyes. You squeal and try to pull it away, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you, keeps your vision covered. You whine about it the whole way, but he just teases you the entire time.

When the car rolls to a stop, he leans close and whispers in your ear, “keep your eyes closed for me?”

You squeeze them shut tighter than you ever have before. He opens his door and shuts it, then opens your door and pulls you out of the car. You laugh the entire walk, as he keeps his hands on your hips and leads you in. There’s a squeaky, heavy sounding door, echoing footsteps on tile floors, and nothing but the darkness of your eyelids. And then- cold.

“Are we at the rink?” You ask, stopping in your tracks.

He groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “How the fuck did you figure that out?”

You laugh and reach blindly for his face, pinching his cheek lightly. “Nico, all of my brothers play hockey. I know ice rinks.”

He sighs heavily. You turn around in his arms and open your eyes, face to face with him. His gaze is soft and warm even though he’s pouting.

“Why are we here?” You ask.

He shrugs. “You said… after the family skate you mentioned how you wished we could’ve skated together. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So. I thought we could have our own skate.”

You swear you melt into a puddle, right there at his feet. “Oh. Wow. That’s-“

You lose the ability to say anything other than the words that have been stuck on your tongue for weeks now- I love you. He just kisses your cheek and drags you away to the locker room. Within a few minutes, you’re stepping out into the arena as he turns the lights on. They shine down on the empty rink. You’ve almost never been in here when it’s empty like this. It feels strange. You’re used to being a part of the roaring crowd, used to cheering on the team from the sidelines.

Nico helps you lace up your skates, and then he walks you out to the ice, so carefully it makes your chest feel tight.

“I know how to skate,” you tell him.

“I know,” he says, kissing your temple.

Despite that, he keeps his hands on you when you get out on the ice. You know it’s not about making sure you don’t fall, and you think back to dates when you were a teenager, boys suggesting ice skating because they thought it’d be an easy excuse to hold your hand. You’d skated circles around all of them. But Nico’s a professional hockey player, and you want to hold his hand, so you let him take both of yours in his, facing each other, and you smile when he starts to skate backwards and pulls you along.

He’s so at home here. You’ve seen it when you watch the games, but it’s more obvious now, watching the way his face lights up as he skates. It’s so endearing, and it makes you feel warm from the inside out. This is his thing, and you get to share it with him, at least for a little while.

He spins the both of you in a circle and glides to a stop. You bump into his chest and laugh, pulling your hands from his to wrap your arms around his middle. He laughs, too, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“This is nice,” you say. “You know, when I was a kid, the boys made me be the goalie.”

Nico snorts out a laugh. “Were you any good?”

You shake your head and sigh. “They’d put me in a fucking dirtbike helmet, and I was too small for any of the pads and they smelled bad, so they’d tie pillows around me, and… yeah. I was a bad goalie.”

“Why’d you let them?” He asks, sounding mildly concerned.

You shrug. “I was being a supportive sister.”

He laughs and pulls away just slightly, holding you at arms length. His hands slip from your sides and come up to cup your face, and then he kisses you, warm and sweet and gentle, like he always is at first with you. He tucks your hair behind your ear as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and pressing against yours. Suddenly, despite the ice and the cold, you’re burning up. He tends to have that effect.

He pulls away sooner than you’d really want him to, but you let him go. There’s plenty of time for more of that. He pulls away fully and stands next to you on the ice, looking down the rink.

“Race me?” He asks.

“That’s so not fair,” you grumble.

“I’ll give you a head start,” he suggests.

You narrow your eyes at him, and then without even thinking, you take off across the ice. He’s hot on your heels within seconds, but the quick takeoff is enough to buy you a few precious seconds. You only lose by a couple feet when both of you slide to a stop at the other end of the rink, laughing so hard neither of you can stand up straight. He skates towards you and sweeps you up off the ice, wrapping his arms around your middle and spinning as you cling onto him and laugh even harder.

The happiness is bubbling up in your chest, and it feels nearly overwhelming. It’s been a long time since you’ve been with someone who makes you feel like this- happy and carefree and fun, and like you can be all those things without worrying about what he’s going to think. He sets you down carefully on the ice and pulls your back to his front, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He points up into the stands, at a row of seats that looks familiar. “There’s your seat,” he says, the words washing over the skin of your neck.

Your breath catches in your chest. Your seat isn’t a front row one- it’s pretty far up in the arena. From the ice, it looks far away and tiny. You’re not sure you’d be able to spot yourself all the way up there, let alone when it’s crowded with people and the ice is busy, when there are so many people clamoring for attention.

“You know my seat?” You mumble, pressing one of your hands over his.

“Mhm,” he says. He takes your hand in his, raises it and points towards the seat. “Right there, right? Under the screen. I always wave.”

He does. And not just since you started dating- you can remember your second ever Devil’s game, watching him glide around on the ice, and the way he paused in your corner and waved. The same spot, every game you’re at.

You nod. “Yeah. I just. I thought that was just you saying hi to the crowd.”

He laughs and kisses the side of your neck softly. “Next time, I’ll blow you a kiss or something so you know it’s for you. Maybe flip you off. Stick my tongue out. You’ll know it when you see it.”

You nod in agreement and turn around to face him. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, and that’s when you hear it.

“Hello?” A voice calls out.

Nico swears in German under his breath and then pulls you close, until you’re right against him, your face hidden against his shoulder. For a moment, you panic- you’re wearing your jersey, whoever it is will see your last name- except it’s not your jersey, it’s Nico’s.

Nico swears again, then calls out, “Just me, Jesper!”

“Nico?” Jesper calls back, sounding confused.

You hear footsteps, and Nico sighs. He keeps your face pressed into his chest, one hand on the back of your head. You’re fighting hard not to laugh. The footsteps slow, then stop, and Nico lifts one hand from your shoulder to wave.

“Oh, Hischier, you’re in trouble,” his teammate teases, whistling lowly.

“What, you gonna tattle on me for sneaking into the rink when you’re doing the same exact thing?” He asks.

“I’m not sneaking in, I saw your car outside and came to check on you,” his teammate says. “And I know a Hughes when I see one.”

You feel the rumble of Nico’s groan in his chest, and a giggle slips past your lips. You try to pull away, but he holds you tightly to his chest. You’re the one grumbling now.

“Lemme go, he already knows,” you huff.

“He has no proof, baby,” he says.

“Don’t need proof,” Jesper calls out.

“Shut up!” Nico calls back.

“Tell me to shut up again and I’ll call Jack!” He says back. You groan. “Or! You know what, I think I’ve got Quinn’s number-“

“No!” Both you and Nico yell, as he finally lets you go and you both spin to face Jesper.

Jesper laughs, doubling over on the edge of the rink, shaking his head. You falter a bit on your skates, and quick as a whip, Nico slips his arms under yours to hold you up. You grumble, but you’d rather not faceplant on the ice, so you let it go.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill you,” Jesper says, still laughing.

“Which one?” Nico asks.

“All three,” he responds, finally standing up to look at the two of you. “Team effort, probably.”

You sigh, though you know it’s probably true. Nico squeezes your side affectionately. You wonder what the look on his face is right now. You turn over your shoulder and you’re met with nothing but affection, even in the face of his teammate’s threats.

“Don’t worry,” Jesper says. “I’m not gonna tell ‘em.”

You hold your breath. Behind you, Nico’s doing the same.

“He’s had a crush on you for ages,” Jesper says, and Nico groans, loudly, and buries his face against your shoulder blade. “I’m proud, honestly. Never thought he’d get the balls. And maybe this means you’ll finally stop third wheeling my dates, huh?”

“Okay, goodbye,” Nico says, as he starts to skate backwards and pulls you with him. “We’re having a date, you know.”

Jesper makes a face at him. You know Nico’s making one back. He waves, though, and walks away, headed for the exit. Nico sighs happily and pulls you closer to himself. In the empty arena, your heart feels full.

…..

Nico leaves for a road game the next week, and you whine about it the whole time he’s packing. He whines right back, about how your whining makes it harder to leave, which you remind him is sort of the point.

“You’re supposed to be a supportive girlfriend,” he says, teasingly.

You pout. “I’m very supportive. I go to all your games. So really, it’s about time you missed one to support me.”

It’s not the first away game he’s had, nor will it be the last. It’s just hitting you hard this time. You think it has something to do with the way you look at him and think, oh, I love you, every time. It’s making your chest ache.

He rolls his eyes playfully and juts his lower lip out. “Oh yeah? Should I put in a text to the team group chat? Sorry boys, can’t go, my girlfriend is pouting. And then they’ll say, ‘you have a girlfriend?’ and-“

“Obviously I don’t mean it,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “But I’m gonna miss you.”

He leans over the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, hands braced on either side of your hips. He’s suddenly so close, and your breath catches in your chest. He smirks.

“I know,” he says. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

He lifts a hand to your side and pushes- you fall back against the bed easily. You’d had your legs crossed, but they unravel and fall to either side of his hips as if on reflex as he looms over you. He rubs his large hands smoothly up your thighs, over your sides, and then he rests them on the bed, on either side of your head, caging you in. You’re warm all over, suddenly.

“You’re not done packing,” you whisper, tugging a stray t-shirt from under your head.

He leans close, runs his nose along your jaw, and sighs. “Mm. Packing can wait.”

You frown. “You said-“ you’re interrupted when he presses a soft kiss to your jaw, then nips at the same spot with his teeth. You reach up and tangle your hand in his messy hair. “-said you wanted to pack early-“

“Yeah, that was stupid,” he grumbled. “How the fuck am I expected to pack when you’re sitting so pretty right here?”

You scoff. “Nico-“

He lets out a noise of dissent, reaches down, and takes both of your hands in one of his. Then he pins them above your head, squeezing softly. You choke on your breath. He pulls away, warm brown eyes on yours, and you swear you’re melting.

“Is that okay?” He asks, quietly.

“Please?” You answer, voice cracking on the word.

He laughs and ducks his head back to your neck. “That’s my girl.”

An hour later, he’s less packed than he was when he started, because he’s gone digging through his suitcase to find you a hoodie to wear after he took your clothes off of you. You tell him he’s being ridiculous. He just smiles, kisses your forehead, and pulls you into his arms. You fall asleep with the suitcase still on the bed.

…..

He calls you from the hotel the first night he’s there, after he gets off the plane and has dinner with the team and gets settled. You’re definitely not sitting in bed, staring at your phone, waiting eagerly. Well. Not as far as he knows. When it buzzes on the comforter, screen lit up with his face, you let it ring three times before swiping to answer so you don’t seem crazy. You’re so casual about this.

“Hi,” you breathe, and you know you’ve failed miserably at casual with just one syllable.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs down the line. You can almost hear the smile in his voice.

Warmth curls through you, and you snuggle farther into the blankets. “How was the trip?”

He launches into a story about TSA and the plane ride. You’re happy just to listen to him talk. His voice is warm and affectionate, even as he describes all the frustrating parts of travel. You can’t help but think that he has such a nice voice. He’s so nice to listen to- you’d let him just talk for hours, if you could. You love to hear him tell you stories, mumble things in your ear while you’re watching movies on the couch, love listening to the inflection of his words when he reads you a recipe for whatever the two of you are making for dinner. You love him. As he starts talking about the stupid decision his coach has made, your mind drifts further, to thoughts of his lips against your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him, how good you feel, how-

“Schatz,” he says, almost teasingly. “You okay?”

“Hm?” You ask.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he says. The tone he takes makes your spine tingle. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” You try to take a silent, deep breath. “Yeah, just… you know. I’m fine. Just miss you.”

You almost hope he’ll drop it, because you’re slightly embarrassed, really. He’ll probably think you’re crazy.

“I miss you too,” he says, and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief. Then he adds, “now tell me what’s got you so distracted.”

“Nico,” you hum, trying desperately to come up with an excuse.

He clears his throat. “Did I ever tell you I love it when you say my name like that?”

You press your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sharp intake of air. He lets out a rumble of a laugh, one that carries over the phone and washes down your spine, leaving you buzzing. Oh, he knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You’re caught now.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he repeats. “And I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking about all day.”

You melt further back into the bed and close your eyes. “You just. You have a nice voice. I like your voice.”

“Not as nice as yours,” he says. Your skin grows hotter. “You sound so pretty. So sweet.”

With nothing but the backs of your eyelids in your vision, surrounded by soft blankets and sheets and the sound of his voice, you start to feel like you’re floating. “Nico,” you repeat. He laughs.

“You nice and cozy, baby?” He asks, voice dropping an octave and lighting up your every nerve. “Bet you’re all curled up in bed in your shorts and a hoodie, huh?”

You nod before you remember he can’t see you. “Mhm.”

“Fuck, I miss you,” he says. “It’s only been a day and I miss it. If I was there, I’d-“

He pauses, or cuts himself off, you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter. You’re waiting with bated breath, chest tight, burning up with your eyes squeezed shut. You turn your head and breathe in, deep. The smell of him is still stuck to your sheets. You could cry.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asks. “I’ll help you, alright, honey? You just be good for me.”

You nod frantically, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah, Nico. I’ll be good.”

“I know,” he says. His voice drops another octave when he says, “what hoodie are you wearing?”

“Yours,” you whine.

He rumbles out a laugh. “That’s my girl. Leave it on, but take the shorts off. Underwear, too. Gonna make yourself feel good for me.”

You shove the aforementioned pieces of clothing off, almost frantically. When you’re done following his instructions, you catch the hint of a familiar sound. His hand, slick and wet, moving over himself. Stars are already dancing behind your eyelids at the thought of it. You’re not sure you’ll be able to take much more.

“I’ve got you,” he promises.

I love you, you think. You wonder if he’s thinking it too.

You fall asleep afterwards with the phone call still going, and his soft snores soundtrack your dreams.

…..

When he calls the next night, the conversation is starkly different.

“Jack’s mad at me,” he says.

You frown, pausing your kitchen counter scrubbing. “Why d’you think that?”

Nico sighs. “Because he’s hasn’t talked to me for a whole day. And during practice he checked me into the wall.”

“I mean, maybe he’s not mad at you, maybe he’s just mad in general,” you suggest.

You can almost see the look on his face when he groans. It’s a bit scary that you know him so well, that you can picture the furrow in his brows and the soft pout of his lips.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” You ask. “I can see what’s going on.”

“If you ask why he’s mad at me he’ll know I told you,” Nico points out. “Which would be suspicious.”

You hum. “Yeah, I guess. It’s Jack, I’m sure it’s fine. He’s just a brat sometimes.”

Nico snorts out a laugh. “Must run in the family.”

You try to act mad, grumbling into the phone, but you can’t help but laugh. He follows suit. You love the sound of his laugh more than nearly anything in the world, you’ve found. It’s a terrifying, exciting feeling.

…..

A few nights later, you’re in your car, parked down the street from the rink. You have the lights off, and you’re ducked low behind the dash, praying nobody looks your way. You’d picked your parking spot specifically based on avoiding the route Jack and Luke always take to get home, and you’re praying they don’t notice your car.

Other cars start to roll out of the parking lot. You watch carefully, peeking over the hood and looking in your mirrors. You have an excuse, if they catch you, but it’s not foolproof, and there’s the added worry that one of their teammates will spot you and ask them about it. It’s risky. But…

Nico’s been gone for what feels like forever, even if it was only a few days. You’ve missed him terribly. So you offered to pick him up, and when he agreed without question and told you how much he’d missed you, too, you’d set the plan into motion. Now you’re here, so focused on the exit from the rink parking lot that you don’t notice the guy next to your car until he knocks on your window.

You scream, then immediately slap your hand over your mouth. It’s Jesper, again, of course it is- he’s leaning on the window and grinning like he’s entertained by it all, and you groan.

You roll the window down and hiss, “Jesus, man, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry!” He says, still smiling.

“S’fine,” you grumble. “If you saw me then my brothers will too, I should probably move.”

“No, that’s why I came to get you. I knew you’d be here, Nico mentioned it,” He explains. “He is arguing with your brothers in the locker room. Mostly Jack.”

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel. “Of course he is.”

Jesper lets you into the building, and you wander the halls until you make it to the locker room. You can hear them arguing before you get to the door- clipped words and snappy tones. Whatever Jack’s been mad at Nico about must’ve boiled over. You decide to break in before you overhear too much, worried about hearing something you shouldn’t.

“Hello?” You call out from the doorway.

Nico turns to look at you, and your brothers follow suit. They’re scattered through the locker room- Nico’s standing in the middle, Jack’s in front of his cubby on the bench, Luke is standing in a corner. You make eye contact with all of them separately- Luke looks like a deer caught in the headlights, Jack is so angry his cheeks are flaming up, and Nico…

Nico meets your eyes and smiles, soft and warm, and if either of your brothers even spared a glance at him, you think they’d know. Or maybe, this is just how he’s always looked at you. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you want nothing more than to run over and throw yourself into his arms. You stay put, even as he looks you up and down. Suddenly, you wish you were wearing his jersey instead of your normal Hughes one, just to see his eyes light up.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asks, gently.

He’s being nice. Almost too nice. Jack is almost never unkind to you, but he’s your brother- annoying most times, a pest all the time. The tone he’s taking with you is abnormal- he shouldn’t be so nice about you showing up here.

“Oh. I, uh, was gonna surprise you guys and see if you wanted to grab dinner or something,” you say, shrugging. “And then Jesper found me in my car and said you guys were arguing, and that maybe I should break it up.”

Jack huffs and whirls back around to glare at Nico. “You’ve got Bratter covering for you?”

You look at your brother with wide eyed confusion. Luke groans and drags a hand down his face. Nico, for his part, also looks confused.

“Jack, I-“ he tries.

“No,” Jack interrupts. He turns back to you and points. “You, me and Luke will go out for dinner. Okay? I’ll meet you outside.”

“Jack-“ Nico tries again.

“Shut up,” Jack snaps.

You need information. You need the full story. And when that’s what you’re looking for, you look to Luke. He’s the youngest, and he’s a tattletale.

“Lukey,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Jack opens his mouth. You hold your hand up to him. He groans, but he stays quiet. Nico’s staring at you, entranced. Jack has always been so overprotective, and Luke, too, that you’re sure sometimes it’s easy to forget that you’re actually their older sister. That is, until now.

Luke sighs, heavily. “You and Nico are dating.” You raise your brows and gesture for him to continue. “And. Um. He had a girl in his room Tuesday night.”

Part of this makes sense. Of course they’re upset with Nico. They’ve figured out that the two of you are together, which Jack had explicitly said was not allowed. However, you’d always sort of figured that when they found out, they’d drop the overprotective act. They both love Nico, and they both want to see you happy, right?

Then you realize what the second half of what Luke said means- they think Nico cheated on you. You turn to look at your boyfriend, already knowing it’s not true for a variety of reasons, most important of all the fact that you were on the phone with him on Tuesday night. He’s giving you a pleading look, like he’s trying to convince you it’s not true, even though you didn’t believe it for a second.

You blink, then frown, then tilt your head. “No, he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jack pipes up, shoulders drooping. “Someone said they heard… noises. Of a sexual variety.”

Nico groans and buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, you start to laugh, unable to help it now. Jack makes a noise of confusion.

“Jack,” you say, between giggles. “Have you ever heard of phone sex?”

Your brothers are silent for a moment. Then Luke groans, loudly, and covers his ears. He swings around and looks at Nico with wide eyes, then closes his eyes tightly. Jack, meanwhile, flops backwards against the wall and covers his face in his hands. Nico’s face is red. It’s not exactly how you would’ve chosen to tell them, but… it gets the point across.

“Please never say that to me again,” Jack says. “Actually, if you never say the word sex in my presence I’ll be happy.”

You roll your eyes and turn to Nico, shrugging lightly. Despite all of it, he’s still smiling at you. He looks so soft, in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, hair an unbelievable mess. You have a strong urge to run your fingers through it. Jack lets out another noise of distress, and you turn back to him.

“You asked,” you tell your brother.

“No, I did not!” He snaps. “Excuse me for being worried, I thought you were being cheated on.”

“You really think that little of me?” Nico finally pipes in, looking at his friend.

Jack pulls his hands from his face and turns to look at Nico. He sighs heavily, frowning. Nico keeps staring at him, waiting for an answer.

“No. I don’t know. I…” he sighs again. “At worst, I really thought maybe you guys just weren’t exclusive, and that was…” he turns to look at you, and jerks his head in a little nod. “Jesus, you’ve had a crush on him for forever, we all knew it, and I told him you were off limits, so then I was worried that I was the reason he was maybe seeing someone else, too, and…”

You see Nico relax at that, shoulders loosening. You’re sure it must’ve been a tough feeling, to have one of his good friends assume something like that. You’re a bit relieved, too.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah. I heard. How about we agree no more of you deciding things like my dating life for me?”

Jack nods solemnly. Nico raises his hand.

“But you are officially off limits,” he says. You smirk and roll your eyes, and he smiles brightly at you. “Right?”

“Right,” you agree. “But by my own choice.”

He grins at you, and your heart skips a beat again.

“Can we buy you guys dinner to apologize?” Jack asks.

You shrug. “Maybe another day. We have plans.”

Nico nods and stands up, headed for you. He turns to his teammates. “We good?”

“Yeah, man,” Jack says. He narrows his eyes, and you fight not to roll yours, because you know what’s coming next. “But if you hurt her-“

“I know,” Nico says, warmly.

Jack nods. Behind him, Luke raises his hand, a look of concern on his face.

“So. When do we tell Quinn?” He asks.

You, Nico, and Jack exchange a look.

“Maybe never,” Jack says.

“I’m fine with that,” Nico winces.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Need to know basis.”

Nico follows you out of the room and down the hall. He slips his hand into yours as soon as you’re out of sight of your brothers. You could remind him he doesn’t have to wait now, that he doesn’t have to hide it, but you think maybe it’s for the best until things settle down. The two of you are quiet as you walk out to the car, and you huddle close to him at the chill of the night air. The car isn’t far, and the parking lot is empty. He reaches into your jacket pocket and snags your keys- you’ve learned that he hates to let you drive, not because he thinks you’re bad at it, but because he likes driving you around. It’s quite sweet, really, so you let him get in the driver’s seat as you climb into the car.

He pauses once he’s turned it on, and he looks over at you. “You said we have plans? Are we going somewhere?”

You laugh and reach up to cup the side of his face in your hand. He leans into your touch.

“Wherever you want,” you say, quietly. “Just wanted it to be me and you.”

He smiles slowly. It spreads across his face like molasses. Your heart skips a beat in your chest.

“You know I love you?” He says, like it’s so, so obvious. Like he’s just checking, just to make sure.

You nor, because you think you did know, that maybe you’ve known it since you started feeling it too. “Yeah. I know. I love you, too.”

…

You're on the phone with Quinn, nearly a week later, when you slip up. He asks what you’ve been up to, what you did the past week, if your brothers are giving you trouble.

“I’ve just been busy with work,” you tell him. “But Nico and I went to a really cute restaurant last night. I had the best seafood pasta.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve just said. You just wait for Quinn to answer, and you’re met with silence. He coughs, like he’s holding back a laugh.

“Did you mean to tell me that?” He asks, and your stomach drops.

“Fuck!”

Quinn laughs down the line, and your face grows warm. You’d forgotten- Luke and Jack know now, so it feels less like something you need to hide. But Quinn didn’t know, and Quinn is overprotective, and shit, fuck-

“I already knew. I’ve known since your first date,” he admits, and you feel your own face morph into confusion.

“How?”

“I never reveal my sources,” he answers. “But I knew something was up when he took you home from the bar and had you stay the night.”

“You’re all such gossips,” you grumble. “Why didn’t you just tell me you knew?”

He makes a noncommittal noise. “Honestly, it’s been fun to watch all of you dance around it. Once I figured out that Jack also knew, I figured he was keeping an eye on it close enough. Also… he seems like a good enough guy. Of all the hockey guys you could’ve picked, he’s up there, you know?”

You smile softly. “I really love him, Quinn.”

“Gross,” Quinn says. “But I’m happy for you.”

You look over to the front door, where Nico’s just walked in. “Yeah. I know. I gotta go, Quinn.”

Your older brother sighs heavily. “Tell Hischier I said hi,” he grumbles. “And that if he hurts you-“

“He knows,” you say.

Across the kitchen, Nico smiles softly. You hang up the phone and let into his arms.

“Bad day,” you say. “Missed you.”

“I know,” he says. “Missed you too.”

#drysdalesworld reblog!#drysdalesworlds #drysdalesworld #nico hischier x you #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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my heart literally melted the entire time reading this 😭😭 this is perfection 💓

DRUNK ON LOVE

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader takes care of a drunk Quinn Hughes.

Quinn was beyond drunk. It was a rare occasion, as he rarely drank never mind to the extent of it actually having any effects. He thought the hangovers were bothersome and it wasn't exactly recommended as a pro-athlete. But the team, specifically Elias Pettersson and Brock Boeser, had roped him into a few celebratory drinks after their win before Quinn had text Y/N a few hours later to pick him up early with a, “wanna come home now, I’m sleepy.”

Y/N knew Quinn had had enough when she watched him almost trip over his own two feet on his way back from the bathroom with a little "ow,” after denying just that before his looming stature was shuffling down the hallway and his head whipped up to blink at her with drowsy, lidded eyes in the hopes she didn't see. But she did, and just when his lips parted to grumble about it, she laughed. Her laugh was so warm and so pretty, and something that sounded so much like home, that it made him consider trying to actually fall just so he could hear it again.

Quinn made it three steps into the living room before there was a puffy cheeked pout on his face and his eyes were on Y/N as he mumbled out a, "Hey, quit laughing at me." His cheeks were painted red and his hair was messier than usual, but she’s always thought he looked pretty in the glow from the kitchen. He softened as he sighed sleepily and because she loved him, she caught herself sighing too, a content sort of sound.

“Hi, baby.” Quinn greeted, and Y/N could feel her heart melt. He was drunk, yeah, but the buzz was doing nothing to disguise the hearts in his eyes when he looked at her, his gaze glassy and half lidded.

Y/N reached out, brushing the hair off his forehead and he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling closed. “Hi.” She leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Did you have fun?”

Quinn followed her hand back down, letting his head fall against her shoulder, nodding against her skin.

“You’re home early, was everything alright? I thought you’d be out until at least midnight.” Y/N was running her hands through his hair slowly, pressing against his scalp as she combed through his hair, enjoying the feeling of him melting into her. He mumbled something into her skin, nuzzling himself into the crook of her neck. “What was that?”

Quinn lifted his head to look at her. “Said I’ve missed you. Left early.”

Y/N would love to respond to that, really, but it seemed as though she lost the ability to form words; he was drunk out of his mind, and was having a very, very rare night out with teammates, and he left early to come lay in bed with her just because he loved her. It was sappy and ridiculous, and she’s never loved anyone so much and probably never will again.

It was impossible to find an adequate response. Y/N leaned in, pressing kisses to his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth, and finally, his lips. She cupped the back of his neck, pressing him close before she rested her foreheads together, soaking in the fact that she was the lucky person that got the sole adoration of the kindest, sweetest, most loving person on the planet before pulling away, sliding her hand down to his chest.

"Are you sleepy, Quinny?" Y/N giggled, a little amused before she narrowed her eyes as he fiddled around with him phone in his hand, rotating the screen clumsily, but the sound of her voice brought his sleepy gaze back to her. He rocked forward with a few slow blinks and another cute pout before he stumbled towards her again, and he really looked like he was in love.

“May have overdone it.” Quinn grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as she was sure the room was spinning for him.

“You think?” Y/N teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when she was met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh, baby, it’s okay.”

"Don’t be mean to me." Quinn drawled, low and a little slurred the alcohol making his usual lazy tone of voice a little whinier before he slumped down between her legs to flop on top of her instead of returning to his previous seat next to her with a grumble.

He looked small like this, no longer her giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. Y/N was happy to be that person, as he always was for her. It was a rare occurrence to ever see him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end.

Quinn’s arms wrapped around her waist and she noticed the slight fogginess that still laid over his lidded gaze when he blinked up at her from her stomach. Y/N giggled again, shuffling under him and scrunching her nose at his sudden weight.

“Quinn, move over.” She grumbled and he only allowed his bottom lip to jut out into a makeshift pout as his arms around her tighten.

"Don’t want to, it’s comfier here." Quinn huffed, eyes dropping and he knew he was probably going to complain about the ache in his neck tomorrow given the awkward positioning, but right now, he nuzzled into her anyway.

"You’re squishing me.” Y/N added, voice lilting to a tease and he sighed, only moving slightly to guide one of her hands to smooth through his hair before he nuzzled into her.

"Give me some kisses and I’ll get up." Quinn sighed again, but he hummed when her fingers combed through his hair and she knew it was less because he was tired and more because he was home, watching him shoot her one of his more affectionate looks before he placed a softer kind of kiss onto her skin through her clothes.

"Do you wanna get up and go to bed?" Y/N laughed, craning her head to lean forward and place a kiss to his forehead and he yawned before he shook his head and his arms around her seem to squeeze even tighter.

"Nah, don't want to. Just want to stay here a little longer." His words were quiet and she smiled as he leaned forward to place a sloppy kiss to her lips before he rested his chin on her chest. "Pretty thing." Quinn mumbled a beat later, blinking up at her while his words still slightly slurred and she couldn’t help the snort that left her lips when the sudden tender confession left his pouty lips.

“How much did the guys make you drink?" Y/N replied, slightly teasing but she continued to scratch her nails through his messy hair anyway, just to watch him lean into her touch like he always did.

"Don’t ask." Quinn sighed, turning to place a tender kiss to her wrist before his eyes closed again, his voice smoother when it sounded once more like he was steadying himself.

Quinn groaned at the realization of what was coming when he wakes up tomorrow, but he hiccuped before breathing deep and softening. Y/N leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose and she giggled at the way his eyes closed, feeling his fingers squeeze at the dip of her waist when she pulled away.

"No fair, I wasn't done yet." Quinn breathed, and by the tone of his voice she could tell clarity was slowly getting a grip on him again.

Y/N shook her head, amused and leaned in again when he met her half way with a pout, because Quinn taught her that happiness was just as simple as this. Him nuzzling into her stomach between slurred words and stolen kisses as her fingers smoothed through his hair. He was drunk, but he loved her everyday, just the same as always.

“You’re so pretty.” Quinn slurred, the messy pile of hair brushing across her stomach.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” Y/N teased gently. “You’re talking nonsense now.”

“Not nonsense.” Quinn mumbled argumentatively, a soft pout to his lips. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Give me a kiss.” He said, and Y/N rolled her eyes once more, giggling as she cupped his cheeks and peppered kisses across his face, pressing one final one over his lips.

A small, barely-there grin erupted on his face as he leaned into her hands, and she brushed a thumb over his warm cheek. “There. Those enough for you?"

"Yeah.” Quinn happily nodded, head drooping forward as his eyes started to close, and this was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.

Quinn had always done that. He fell asleep on the couch, slumped on the floor against the kitchen counter, in the passenger seat of her car, anywhere but their bed. Y/N can never managed to get him there in time, and a hungover Quinn with a sore back was never a fun Quinn to deal with.

"No.” Y/N warned, tapping his cheek to wake him. "Quinn, do not fall asleep.” She said sternly, and he huffed, lifting his head up with a scowl, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I’m tired, baby.” Quinn grumbled. “And why're you trying to see me naked?"

Y/N stared at him with pursed lips as he looked up at her with a raised brow. "I’m not. Now, lift your arms.”

"You think I’m hot? Like what you see?” Quinn grinned, reaching up to poke her cheek. He missed and his body swayed forward as he lost his balance, making her grab him with a sigh. "Hey, keep your hands to yourself.” He snickered, and she almost thought she should let him fall forward to the floor, face first. But that would make him even more insufferable in the morning, and Y/N liked the idea of keeping the remaining bits of her sanity intact. Not that there was a lot of sanity left to keep when she was dating someone like Quinn.

"You are too much.” Y/N snorted, but still, there was fondess as she swept back sweaty locks from his face, tracing over the slants of his features slowly as he closed his eyes and relished in her touch. She didn’t get to take care of him like this often, so she was grateful he was a lightweight, even if he denied that fact to his grave.

"You don’t think I’m hot? Come on, I know you do just a little.” Quinn insisted, letting her finally peel his button down off his upper body.

Chuckling, Y/N threw his shirt across the room as she murmured, "Maybe I do think you're hot, but only just a little."

"Well, I think you're pretty fucking gorgeous.” Quinn poked her hip, sending her a sly grin as she swatted his wandering hand away with a warning glance. "Best I ever had."

"Oh, yeah? Who else you got to make the comparison?"

"No one. Everyone else sucks, so you're best by default.” He shrugged. Her heart melted a little, and she supposed this is what dating someone like Quinn did to her. Taking things he meant as an insult to others as a compliment for herself, but it warmed her up that he saw her as different, as good.

"You’re the best I ever had, too.” Y/N grinned. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress.

“I’m okay.” Quinn hiccuped back. “Just want to cuddle.” He always became exceptionally affectionate when he got this drunk.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at her, his eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off to one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

Y/N should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. It should’ve gotten under her skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into her chest, but it didn’t. She was just taking care of her man. “Do you feel nauseous at all?”

“I promise I’m okay, baby.” Quinn said, making himself giggle. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “okay” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the couch beneath him.

They were quiet for a bit, Quinn fluttering his eyes closed as he hummed contently, and Y/N just admiring him in silence. She let her hand crawl into his, interlocking their fingers together before bringing it up to her lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. Her fingers ran through his still damp hair, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when she heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“You always take such good care of me.” Quinn said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence they had created together.

“I always will.” Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the cushions.

“I love you.” He gave her a gentle squeeze as he cheekily grinned.

“I love you, too.” She felt his smile against her skin, and it made her smile, too.

They hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign to both of them. But she meant it when she said it. She loved him, and her body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved her, too.

“Will you marry me?” The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took her a moment to process what he said, but when she did her heart stopped.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry him, because she did, but not now. It was too soon. There was still too much for them to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about her.

“I will someday.” Y/N spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. She was now holding his face tenderly, like if she held him steady and close, she could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” Quinn looked up at her with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch her in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Just want to be with you forever.” He said softly and her heart began to melt. Quinn was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and she absolutely loved him for it. She pulled him closer to her chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be.” Y/N breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and she couldn’t stop herself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like vodka and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as she tried to pour all her love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow.” Y/N watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about them both being grown already. “We have to grow together.” She finished.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Quinn mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday.” He repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, you know?” He smirked up at her, his smile and joking tone signalling that she hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay.” Y/N sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to her own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, you know?” She teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, baby.” Y/N was pretty sure Quinn was asleep, as he was yawning the whole way through his response, and had promptly flipped over and snuggled into her with his eyes closed, but then she felt his lips press lightly against her neck. “Love you.”

She pressed a matching kiss to his temple, rubbing her thumb against his shoulder. “I love you more.”

#drysdalesworld reblog!#drysdalesworlds #drysdalesworld #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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i wasn’t able to watch the flyers game today & just found out that jamie got injured again in todays game 😔 hopefully he recovers soon. poor man can’t catch a break fr

#drysdalesworld talks!#drysdalesworld #jamiedrysdale #jamie drysdale

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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hello loves!! i just wanted to update you guys on attmm (luca’s version) & the boys with a laboring s/o. i don’t think i’ll be able to post them this weekend or this week due to having tests at the beginning & end of this upcoming week & i desperately need to set time aside to study for them.

i do plan on attempting to work on them whenever i can but i do not think they’ll be out anytime soon (but we’ll see). same goes for requests as well!

also, i have noticed that when i follow people back or like their posts, it’s my main account that pops up lol. so if you see @normspellsman like any of your posts or follow you, it’s me! i didn’t even realize this until i voted on something & saw that it was my first/main account that was interacting with it.

#drysdalesworld talks!#drysdalesworld works!#drysdalesworld #nhl x reader #hockey x reader #luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli #luca fantilli x y/n #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #kirby dach x reader #cole caufield x reader #nico hischer x reader #trevor zegras x reader #luke hughes x reader

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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this is perfection. spectacular. delicious. amazing.

i legit was giggling & kicking my feet during reader & nico’s interaction at his house hehe

OFF LIMITS

nico hischier x hughes sister!reader

It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.

Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.

But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.

“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.

Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”

Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.

“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.

The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.

“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.

Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.

“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.

“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”

The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.

“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.

Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.

“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”

You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”

Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”

You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”

And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.

…..

You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.

You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.

“Like what?” You ask, innocently.

If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.

He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.

You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”

He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.

He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.

You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lmao next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.

“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.

His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”

You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”

You shrug and cast your eyes to the calling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.

Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.

“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

…..

Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.

You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.

He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.

So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.

He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.

Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.

“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.

“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.

“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.

He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm still wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.

“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.

Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”

Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.

“It’s not like that,” Nico says.

“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”

He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”

“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”

“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.

Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”

“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.

Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”

Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.

“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”

Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.

“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”

You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.

“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”

Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”

You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”

Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”

“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.

He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”

You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”

He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.

“You should lay down,” you mumble.

He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”

You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.

“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”

His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.

…..

You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheeks is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.

You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.

When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.

“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”

He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.

You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.

You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”

Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”

You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”

Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”

You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.

“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”

You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”

Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the club teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.

“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.

“Why do I think what is?” You reply.

You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.

“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.

He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.

“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.

He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.

“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”

He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.

“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”

You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”

Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”

“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”

Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.

“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”

You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.

“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”

The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”

You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”

You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”

He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”

You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”

He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.

In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.

…..

You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.

He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.

You nod. “In a minute.”

Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.

The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars. - quick text from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.

Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.

“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.

He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.

…..

“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.

Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”

Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.

Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”

Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.

“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”

“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.

He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.

No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed

#drysdalesworld reblog!

1K notes · View notes

drysdalesworld · 2 months

Text

me reading this:

i love love love this work 💓💓

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

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“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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#drysdalesworld reblog!

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

Text

THIS IS TOO CUTE 😭😭 GOT ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

you'd know - j. drysdale

summary: jamie moves to philly! and doesn't sleep on cam's couch!

warnings: swearing? unedited (i'll do it later maybe), fluff, insinuation of sexual relations, the tr*de

word count: 3.1k

“What about this one?” Jamie asked, not for the first time in the last hour, sliding his tablet across the duvet to sit on your lap, you once more placing your book next to you on the covers, barely holding in the mildly amused tilt of your lips when you felt his eyes fixate intently on the side of your face as you swiped through the photos of houses in Philly.

It wasn’t the best one he’d shown you, by all means, but it had a certain charm about it that had you clicking the ‘favourite’ icon in the corner and passing the device back over to him without a word.

Even as you picked up your book again, eyes drifting to the clock in the corner of his screen, you couldn’t quite concentrate on the words printed on the page. Your mind hadn’t really been into reading these last couple of days; everything seemed to have happened pretty quickly with Jamie’s trade to Philly (of all places!), and then although he’d left his stuff in Cam’s apartment and taken up residence on the ginger’s couch, he’d mostly taken to staying over at yours – a vast change in dynamic since the start of your relationship in the summer. You’d gone from scheduled FaceTime calls and texts, and maybe only seeing each other in person once monthly since the season had started, to Jamie living within a five mile radius and sleeping over at yours almost every night.

Cam wasn’t complaining, by any means: an empty apartment was always going to be a positive thing for him, but it didn’t stop Jamie from sneaking back over each morning, unaware of the fact that Cam was very much alert to his sneaking out. He just didn’t want to be disrespectful or seem like he wasn’t appreciative of the offer of a couch, but…a bed with his girlfriend was always going to be the more appealing option, that much was certain.

You weren’t exactly complaining either, it was just a lot to adjust to. But the most shocking thing, not including Jamie’s trade to Philly, was probably the fact that you weren’t bothered by him being in your apartment or seeing him everyday.

It was just a little weird.

And now he was shopping for houses in your double bed (your room didn’t fit anything bigger), your roommate asleep in their room on the other side of the apartment, and asking for your opinion on each listing he showed, both of you fully aware of the fact that your lease was set to end in a matter of weeks.

“What about this one?” He asked once more, and instead of placing your book on the bed, you reached over to place it on top of the bedside table, surrendering to the fact that you weren’t about to get any reading done if he kept up this schtick.

You flicked through the photos, chewing the inside of your mouth as you scrolled down to read the information.

Like all the others, this one also had three bathrooms and four bedrooms, and you weren’t entirely sure if you were overthinking too much, but those factors seemed a little much for a guy to have in a house by himself. You had no doubt that Jamie intended to have some friends over every now and again, but all these houses he was showing were, for lack of better descriptions, family houses. Or, at least, houses for more than one person.

“I…” you started, hesitating slightly at actually bringing the topic up; the most serious conversation you guys had ever had was the one pertaining to the actual state of your relationship, and even then, you’d stopped calling it ‘fun’ only five months ago – and if your theory was correct…

You weren’t even sure.

“What’s up?” Jamie asked, leaning in ever-so-closely. His arm and shoulder was leant comfortably against yours, his head just shy of resting against your cheek so he could still see the screen clearly.

“Nothing,” you started, backing out of it slightly, before inhaling sharply and purposefully avoiding looking at him when you spoke the next few words out loud. How the fuck could you say this without sounding– “It’s just, these houses all have big back yards and loads of bathrooms and bedrooms.”

Jamie blinked, lips pressing together as his eyes flickered back down to the screen, “Do they?” He asked, unsurely taking the tablet out of your hands, and you had to catch your bottom lip with your teeth to stop yourself from smiling a little at his anxious antics.

So, you’d been right, then.

That was nice to know.

He pretended to frown, a crease between his brows and a look of concentration printed so…fakely onto his face that you were forced to sneak your way under his arm, head settling rather comfortably on his shoulder as he brought his arm around to tuck you into his side, both hands still attached to the tablet. He pressed a delicate kiss to your hair before resting his cheek on top of your head, his hum vibrating your bones.

“So,” you started, “you planning on having loads of people over with these houses?” You asked innocently, watching him with interest as he scrolled further down the listings. He’d made no move to edit his filters, which did nothing but confirm your suspicions.

He nodded, exhaling through his nose and clicking back onto the favourites page to scroll down and then back up again, a lot of thought going into clicking his clear favourite. It was a rather adorable house, if empty, barely-furnished photos were anything to go by; it just felt easy to picture him decorating the entire place with his stuff – and a bed. For him to sleep in, not a couch, with his own sheets on.

“I was thinking for special occasions, like Christmas and stuff, and I can’t go home because of work, that people might be open to the idea of staying here and celebrating in Philly.” He mumbled, flicking through the photos.

“People?” You echoed, head turning to your door after a bang echoed through your apartment.

The across-the-hall neighbours were almost nocturnal, you were sure of that.

“Y’know,” Jamie continued, pretending the bang wasn’t at all a disturbance, “family, friends. ‘N you.”

You blinked, focusing all the willpower you had into not grinning like an absolute fool and giving yourself away to him – not only because you knew he was keeping an eye on you, but because you wanted to tease him a little bit, not in a mean way, but gently – enough to get him to blush and admit to something.

“Is that why you’re asking for my opinion?” You asked, your fingers lazily and absent-mindedly trailing up and down his forearm.

He hummed again, and his lack of words had you pulling away from him a little. It wasn’t enough to break out of his hold, but enough to get him to lift his head from yours so you could see his face properly. His eyes were on you, but as soon as he seemed to register you weren’t moving anywhere, he turned his attention back to the tablet, ignoring his complete lack of answer and instead choosing to press his lips together to prevent himself from smiling, and avoiding your eyes completely.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, still not reacting.

You poked a finger to his cheek, his stubble providing a scratch that almost tickled, and he caught your hand, this time with a rather amused smile now freely on his face, and his eyes accusingly narrowed in your direction, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Didn’t I?” He furrowed his brows, tilting his head. His hand squeezed around yours three times, before he laced your fingers together.

You rolled your eyes fondly, “You know you didn’t.”

He sighed, switching his tablet off and placing it on the floor with a dull thud, shooting you a ‘just a moment’ look as he got himself comfy against the pillows, taking an exceptionally long amount of time to adjust the height at which he preferred the duvet to be pulled up.

“Come on.” He patted your pillow, and you followed, lying face-to-face, “Okay. So, I’ve been thinking that we should start factoring each other in a bit more. It’s been, like, nine months—”

You frowned, “Five.”

“Nine.” He argued, blue eyes confused at your own answer.

“Five – we weren’t even dating–”

“We might as well have been. We were doing everything we do now–”

“Except tell each other the truth.”

He blinked after a brief pause, “Fine. Five months, then. I guess I’m asking your opinion on the houses because you’re my girlfriend, and I want us both to like the house I’m going to buy because I’m hoping you’ll stay over every now and then. I want you to like it so you stay over.”

“Even if I didn’t like it I’d want to stay over.”

He breathed a laugh sorely lacking mirth, and you felt yourself frown at his shaking head and disbelieving eyes.

“That’s not the point.” He whispered.

You didn’t say anything or do anything to allude to what you were thinking; Jamie’s eyes were roving over your face searching for some kind of hint as to what was going through your head – trying to figure out if you’d caught on or if you were genuinely oblivious to what he was struggling to say.

“I’m not a mind-reader.” You replied, arching a brow and unable to hide the small tells of a smile on your face when he seemed to soften at your words.

He knew you were teasing him, but he also knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted if he didn’t say it outright.

“I was hoping you’d help me decorate, like, help me pick out some furniture or what paint to get for the walls kind of thing. I know you’re not gonna be living with me, but I want you to stay over and feel comfortable enough to maybe, I don’t know, like…stay there when your roommate or neighbours are pissing you off, or to have a key, or to move in with me at some point in the future.” You could feel his hand tracing absentminded shapes into the sheets under the covers, and his eyes seemed intent on avoiding looking anywhere near your direction, instead choosing to dart from his pillow, to the vintage poster of Sidney Crosby on the back of your door, to your bedside light. Everywhere but you.

There was a brief moment when he was talking that you were almost a little worried he was going to ask you to move in then and there – and while that certainly wasn’t an unappealing option at all, you were still getting used to each other. Your relationship was pretty new, and Jamie was still adjusting, and the last thing either of you needed was to amp up the intensity at this moment in time when it could just as equally prove to be as disastrous as good.

But when he’d said ‘some point in the future’, all of that dissipated into thin air.

“The first house.” You mumbled, trying to catch his attention. It seemed to do the trick pretty effectively, because even though his eyes were wide, he was hanging on to everything you said with a look so intense that it rivalled the one you’d only seen him use on the ice. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was holding his breath, “That’s my favourite.”

He swallowed, pushing his head a little off the pillow, cheeks a little red at the insinuation behind your words, “It’s my favourite too.”

“I know.” You grinned, “But–”

He tensed.

“But I do think you should make some decisions only on your own, because it’s gonna be your house. If you need help or advice, that’s fine, but I think you also need to do this for yourself – get comfy in Philly.”

He twisted his mouth in consideration, “You’d tell me if you hated something that I picked though, right? Or if I–”

“If you pick it, I’ll probably like it.”

He blinked, before rolling his eyes, “That’s very reassuring–”

“I just mean, I liked your house in Anaheim and you did that up–” you cringed, “Well, partly–”

“Thanks for that reminder, yeah.” He quipped, nodding sarcastically.

He’d partly redecorated his house back in LA, but he’d never gotten round to finishing it because, well, he got traded, and it was still a bit of a stinger.

“Sorry.” You said, genuinely feeling guilty for having brought it up in such a profoundly important conversation.

He shrugged, smiling rather defeatedly, “It’s fine. I mean, I really like it here. I actually…” he hesitated, looking at you unsurely and rather guiltily, and you grinned, knowing he was about to say something very honest, “I prefer playing for the Flyers.”

Your jaw dropped, before you dissolved into laughter, “I can tell.”

“You can? Is it obvious?” He looked so concerned that your chest physically warmed at the sight, and you shook your head in response, but it was clear he could see through your little white lie.

There was a lull in the conversation after that, and he laid his head back down opposite you, blinking sleepily. There was something in the back of your mind, something related to what he’d said, that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without mentioning it to him at least, and just as you were about to open your mouth, he stopped you with a furrowed brow.

“What’s up?” He asked, and you halted.

You didn’t know why it was such a shock that he could read you so easily, but it was – in an entirely good way.

“Just, for a second earlier, I was worried you were gonna ask me to move in with you.” You admitted, watching him closely.

He paused for a second, taking in your words, before comically gasping, “Is the thought of moving in with me that horrific?”

“You’re just a really loud sleeper.” You played along, rolling your eyes and enjoying the gentle nudge to your shin.

You both knew that statement was wholly untrue; sure, he snored occasionally, but it wasn’t at a disruptable, pillow over your ears, no sleep, forcefully rolling him over level. And it was only when he had a cold.

“I can imagine it’s a pain, yeah. I shuffle, too, and I, oh, how could I forget? I steal the duvet and refuse to cuddle. That must be awful.” He groaned, the sound melting into one of soft laughter as he failed to keep up the act.

Of course, none of those things were true.

“Seriously, though?” He asked next, his amusement replaced by seriousness.

“I just think it’d have been too soon.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, “But also, for future reference, if I was asking you to move in with me, you’d know.”

A WHILE LATER (A YEAR AND A BIT)

You pulled a face, toothbrush frozen midway to your mouth, the splodge of toothpaste wobbling at the sudden halt. You were staring at the reflection of the man standing next to you, washing his face as though what he’d just said wasn’t both confusing or an entirely big deal if it meant what you thought.

He grabbed a towel from the radiator rack next to him, wiping his face, and it was when he looked back into the mirror, his eyes sliding from his reflection to your utterly stunned look of complete disbelief, that he faltered, a grave look appearing on his face.

You’d both just crawled out of bed, motivated by the knowledge that his parents were arriving in Philly later today and neither of you had completely finished tidying his house, because, lo and behold, the consequence of having multiple rooms and bathrooms meant that it’d take three times the amount of time to clean them all before guests arrived. Currently you were still in your PJs, and the only change Jamie had made to his appearance since getting out of bed was to pull a pair of joggers over his boxers.

It was an awfully domestic scene, and something that had been happening increasingly more often as of the last few months – again, you weren’t complaining – but that hypocrite—

“Say that again.” You said, lowering your toothbrush.

Jamie blinked, stuttering, “Say what again?”

“What you just said.”

“Why don’t I tidy out some of the cabinet so you can move your stuff in?” He said unsurely, his brows knitted in confusion, towel patting his face dry in a manner that meant he could still see you properly.

“Why would you need—Why?”

He froze like a deer caught in headlights – so, so, so adorably confused.

“So you can have space to put your stuff…” he trailed off, his mouth parting in realisation, “You’ve been here at least five out of seven days a week for the past four months, and even then you only went back to your apartment to bring back almost out of date food and some clean clothes.”

You turned to him for real this time, face-to-face, mildly unimpressed and mostly entertained because of his unawareness as to what it sounded like he was implying. Only, this time, you had a feeling you were right, and this time you weren’t the slightest bit worried about him asking.

Only, when you turned to face him, instead of the confusion written on his face – somewhere between the time it had taken you to blink and turn, he was on one knee on the tiles, a cheeky grin on his face that immediately let you know you’d been had and that had entirely been his intention all along.

It still didn’t stop your heart hammering madly in your chest at the sight of him in such a position, and even though you knew what he was and wasn’t about to ask, your mind was now skipping ahead to marriage.

“I know I promised you’d know when I asked you to move in with me, but I couldn’t resist messing with you a little bit–” he laughed and tried to dodge you when you lightly kicked his knee to throw him slightly off balance, but his neither his smile or his resilience faded, “and I figured this would be as obvious as it gets, so…” he inhaled, attempting to appear suddenly serious, “Will you please do me the honour of moving in with me?”

You were grinning, “No.”

There was a beat, and all in one moment his entire face seemed to drop as he looked even more befuddled towards the floor, mind presumably racing with just where he’d gone wrong this time, and if you didn’t know your own intentions, you’d say the silence was awkward, but you could never leave him looking that dejected for too long.

Your heart couldn't bear it.

“I’m kidding, ‘course I’ll move in with you.”

He sighed, pushing himself up to stand and taking your hand as an offer for help in the process, before rolling his eyes fondly and kissing your temple, “Yeah, I love you too.”

#drysdalesworld reblog!

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

Text

im so so glad you enjoyed it!! meddling trevor is top tier fr. he’s 100% amping up his meddling skills in the next part(s) 🤭🤭

PHASE ONE — always trust the match maker (jamie’s version)

part two

pairing(s): jamie drysdale x fem!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x fem!reader (besties), fem!oc (georgie) x fem!reader (roommates)

genre: a smidge of angst (like talks of breakup/dates gone wrong + reader feeling like she’s not good enough for love), tons of fluff (jamie is a lovesick fool let’s be real), & comfort (in regards to hugs, etc.)

word count: 5.1k+

warning(s): trev thinking he’s cupid, bickering, trevor recruiting readers roommate into his “master plan”, mentions of familial teasing & making reader feel bad about her dating life, drinking + mentions of drinking, mentions of a party, cursing, lowkey moon!reader & sun!jamie, this is literally mostly filler lol

note(s): please remember that this is a work of fiction & nothing the characters in this work say or do is a reflection of them or what they do. i always try to make the reader as racially ambiguous as possible so please let me know if i did not achieve that in this work! :) reader’s job is also mentioned as a journalist. please ignore the numerous amount of times i say painted 😭

It was an ongoing joke between your loved ones that you had bad taste in romantic partners. It somehow always being brought up during family gatherings, giggles gracing their lips as they recalled your past failed relationships and the kinds of people you had brought home throughout the years. You knew that they never truly meant to hurt you with their words but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop and frown at their teasing everytime it happened. This was something that followed you from your hometown to your new place of residence in Anaheim, California, even during your near four years of living there. Especially when your good friend of those four years, Trevor Zegras, noticed the pattern one night and the world of your shitty past relationships were revealed to him.

( Trevor glanced at your approaching figure from the corner of his eye as you walked into his and Jamie’s small apartment, having just come back from somewhere as you paused by the doorway to take off your shoes. The man was in the kitchen making himself a bowl of cereal when he had heard the lock and door knob turn.

“What’s up?” He’d asked.

A sigh was the only thing he heard as a response, the sound of your shoes hitting the floor barely a thud on the rugged portion of the entrance, something you had insisted on getting Trevor and Jamie as you had wanted to give their dull and barely decorated apartment some life.

“Alright, I know that sigh. What’s wrong?”.

It creeped you out at first at how well Trevor knew you when you first became friends. He was able to read you like a book, as clear as day. You never met someone like that before. Who took their time in memorizing your little habits and quirks, being able to immediately clock them and check in on you if needed. You had eventually found comfort in that. It was something that you had appreciated about your friend.

“Just a bad date s’all,” you replied, eyes still downturned towards the floor as you make your way to the kitchen, laying your warm and sweaty face onto the cool granite of the counter.

Trevor had turned his body towards you the minute you sighed, concerned laced in his facial features. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you lay against the cold surface.

“A bad date? I didn’t know you went on a date tonight. What happened?” He softly asked.

Another thing you were grateful for was that Trevor wouldn’t immediately start teasing you about something if he saw you in a state like this, upset and flustered. It was something you had addressed to him very early on in your friendship and he respected that.

You briefly contemplated lying to the boy. But you told the truth anyway, deciding that this was something you needed to get off your chest.

“He was just such a…dick, to put it nicely. He was late by nearly an hour and talked about his ex the entire time. He even expected me to get the bill, which I wouldn’t have minded doing but he practically insulted me about my job saying how the only thing journalists do is gossip and shove rumors down everyone's throat. I literally couldn’t wait to leave and get back here”.

Trevor had a frown painted on his lips once you finished explaining. He didn’t know much of your dating history. Only that most of the people you dated were exes for a reason. Hearing about someone treating you like that made him sad and think how you most definitely deserved better.

The brunet didn’t respond to your explanation, only handing you his bowl of cereal and going to pour himself a new one as he lead you to the couch afterwards, eager to take your mind off of the lackluster night. )

You are forever grateful to have someone like Trevor within your life. He treated you like family and never failed to make you feel welcomed within his presence. Something that you very rarely felt with anyone.

And just as you felt a smile spread across your face at the memory of Trevor giving you his last bit of favorite cereal from that night in an effort to make you feel better, your roommate, Georgie, had pulled you out of your thoughts with the wave of her hand passing over your eyes.

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)”.

You hummed out in acknowledgment, eyes shifting from their glazed over position to the figure of your roommate. She huffed in response.

“Where were you just now, babe? Wait – no. Don’t tell me. I know exactly who you were thinking of,” she smiled, bright teeth on full display as a teasing look spread across her face. “Was it a certain roommate of the Anaheim Ducks player number 11? Or a darked haired man that absolutely cannot play guitar for the life of him?”.

Her words caused you to groan out and roll your eyes, “No. I was not thinking of Jamie, for your information”.

Georgie didn’t seem to believe you, eyes narrowing as she tried to decipher whether or not you were lying to her.

The woman across from you knew of the ‘crush’ you had on the dark haired man. It seemed to be quite obvious to everyone but the man in question. Georgie had commented one too many times on the kind of look you give him when he walks into the room or the kind of smile that subconsciously spreads across your lips when he makes conversation with you, something that Jamie rarely ever does to other people. You always insisted that he must’ve felt comfortable with you to engage in talk with you, but your roommate never failed to point out that he never talks to people first and he always approached you first to talk.

( “Babe, he practically gets excited when he sees you. I mean, dude, he has the biggest smile ever and willingly makes conversation with you first. I don’t see him do that to Trevor every time he sees him”. )

But regardless of the confirmations and signs that Jamie Drysdale may like you the way you like him, you always denied it. He felt too real. Too soft to be tainted and touched by your scarred heart. Too loving to have to put up with you. With the kind of dating history you had, it was hard to believe that you weren’t a problem or a burden to others when in a relationship. Many of your exes had stupid excuses to leave you, all which left you heartbroken. It was hard to not believe the kinds of things they said after every relationship you had ended in a disaster one way or another. You completely believed that it was something you did that made them all leave and you did not want that for Jamie. You didn’t think you’d be able to do that to him nor would you be able to recover from the inevitable heartbreak that awaits you on the other side. It was better to admire him from afar you had decided.

( You did not deserve someone so soft, so loving, and so kind. He looked at the world through rose tinted glasses and you forever had cracked lenses that were barely hanging on the frame of your face. It would never work out. )

Georgie licked her lips as she saw you begin to spiral back into your own head, sighing as she let out a breathy fine and left it at that. She returned to the topic she was discussing with you before she noticed you weren’t even paying attention to the words she was speaking. She wasn’t even entirely sure you were currently listening to her as your eyes began to glaze over once again.

Maybe I should take up Z on his offer, she thought to herself, fingers beginning to twirl around a strand of hair as she continued. Getting J and (Y/N) together is something that definitely needs to happen.

————

“Ah! There she is! The girl of the hour!”.

You wanted to crawl in on yourself and never come out when Trevor’s loud voice reached your ears upon entering his full and cramped apartment. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, raising the box of beers you had picked up at the last minute above your head. More cheers erupted upon your gesture.

Trevor had informed you of his ‘little’ get together approximately an hour before it was planned to start. It was nearing the beginning of the hockey season and he wanted to party and celebrate before his days were filled with hockey and nothing but hockey. He practically pleaded with you to come over when you had declined his offer, comfortably in bed with your comfort movie playing as you got ready to have an early night in. You only caved when Georgie bursted through the door and dragged you out of bed, demanding you accompany her to Trevor’s party. And that’s how you ended up nearly two hours late to his party with beer in hand as an apology with Georgie trailing behind you.

“God bless you sweets,” Trevor mumbled as he engulfed you in a hug, brushing his lips against your hairline, snatching the box of beers from your hands and setting it on the table upon pulling away.

You muttered a yeah yeah before making a beeline for the kitchen fridge, dead set on getting your usual drink. You weren’t a big drinker nor were you able to handle hard alcohol so Trevor always made sure to get you more flavored drinks so you wouldn’t feel left out on the ‘buzz’ of the party.

The cool air of the fridge felt nice on your face compared to the warm heat that began to cling onto your skin from the amount of bodies around you. But as your eyes scanned the fridge and its compartments, you realized Trevor must’ve forgotten to stock up as you couldn’t find a single drink of yours in sight. A frown quickly made its way onto your lips as you realized, already defeated.

“Some people were taking them so I hid them in my room. They might be a little warm if you still want them,” a soft and familiar voice spoke from the right of you, behind the shelter of the silver fridge door.

You slightly stilled upon hearing his voice. But that didn’t stop a smile from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, Jamie,” you spoke, gently closing the door of the fridge, fingers still lightly wrapped around the handle. “That’s nice of you to do. You didn’t have to do that y’know”.

He flashed you his infamous smile, making that warm and fuzzy feeling crawl up your stomach and settle in your chest. “I know. I wanted to. Plus, I know you would’ve given Trevor shit for it and he seems too occupied right now to make a trip to the store for more”.

A giggle left your mouth in response to the man's observation. He wasn’t wrong though. You would've definitely given Trevor shit for not putting the drinks in a safer place, making him feel bad to the point that he would be grabbing his keys and muttering a I’ll be back before exiting through the front door.

“It’s the least I could do for the amount of shit he’s put me through,” you joked, leisurely following Jamie as he led you to his room, weaving through the numerous bodies littered throughout the apartment.

You faintly heard the man chuckle, his head shaking as the fluffy ends of his hair followed the motion of his head. You found yourself smiling harder at the fact that you made Jamie Drysdale laugh, even if it was for a brief moment.

“Well, he definitely deserves it,” he responded, slightly turning towards you as he twisted the door knob of his bedroom door and opened it, revealing his half haphazardly clean room and the brightly colored alcoholic canned beverages on his night stand. “That’s all of what was left. I tried to get more but nobody would budge”.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, eyes trained on the cans. He truly did try to convince those who had the same cans in their hands if they would be willing to trade it for another kind of drink. But they all just looked at him weirdly and declined, practically chugging the liquid in front of him to put more emphasis on their decision. Jamie knew they were one of the only alcoholic drinks that you would consume on nights like these and he didn’t want you to miss out on the fun, if there was even any to start with, just because Trevor wasn’t diligent enough to hide them somewhere else.

Your heart began to swell at the sweet gesture from the boy next to you. It was probably one of the sweetest things someone has done for you in a very long time. It made the warm feeling in your chest grow and spread up into your cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Jimmy. I really appreciate it. This is more than enough, trust me,” you spoke, a gentle smile on your lips as you did so.

Jamie only nodded in reply to your words, copying your smile as he turned his head towards you and away from the condensating cans. The tips of his pale ears tinted pink.

He watched you as you made your way to his night stand and grab a can, promptly opening it before taking a sip. His blue eyes stayed on your figure as you tipped your head back to drink the beverage, lukewarm liquid filling your mouth before sliding down your throat as you swallowed. Jamie found himself copying you subconsciously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed too. Everything about you seemed to enchant him, never able to take his eyes off of you as you did whatever or talked about whatever. There was just something about you that pulled him in. And he began to find himself addicted to it at times. Always itching for a new fix.

“You want one?” you asked, nodding your head towards the cool cans, effectively pulling Jamie out of his stupor.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. I already had, like, three beers anyway. I think I’m done for the night,” he responded.

He was lying. He only had one. He was too nervous to drink. Trevor had informed him that you were going to be attending the party and he suddenly couldn’t stomach anymore alcohol. It’s not that you made him nervous in a bad way necessarily. The kinds of nerves he experienced around you was hard to put into words but the only thing he could describe it as was something akin to having an elementary school crush. Those excited nerves to see the new kid in school that you found cute. The kind that made him want to pull the flowers from the elderly lady’s garden in his neighborhood and gift them to you as a token of his love. The kind that made him see you everywhere, even in the littlest things.

You narrowed your bright eyes at him, not being able to accurately tell if he was lying. A simple nod of your head was your only response as you took another sip of your drink and sat down on his neatly made bed covers.

You stared at the pictures tapped to his wall. Pictures of his family to his idols scattered the plain white walls of his room. It made you smile that he displayed those he adored and loved on his bedroom walls. You began to wonder what it would look like if he had you on there amongst the pictures of his loved ones. But as quickly as the thought popped into your head, it went away just as fast.

“I must’ve been like, six or something in that picture,” he spoke, gently making his way towards you, pointer finger brushing up against the printed picture of him as a child surrounded by both of his parents and brother, Pre-K graduation certificate tightly grasped in both hands as he brightly and widely smiled at the camera, his freckles danced across the bridge of his nose and apples of his cheeks. “Had just graduated Pre-K. My parents made such a big deal out of it. I thought it was the best day of my life back then”.

The softness of voice managed to catch you off guard a little, seeing a side of him you never really got the chance to see.

“You look extremely proud of yourself, Drysdale. Very cute too. Your parents look proud too,” you said, tone matched in the same gentleness as his.

A grin made its way onto his face as he angled his head towards yours, eyes gleaming in something you weren’t able to recognize as he sat next to you.

“Oh, I know. Had all the older moms fawning over me and my adorably cute looks,” he joked, chuckling to himself.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as well, gently pushing the thigh pressed against yours, shaking your head to yourself. “Of course. I wouldn’t’ve expected anything less, Jamie. Bet you had all the Pre-K girls chasing after you on the blacktop too, huh?”.

“Nah, they had cooties. I couldn’t catch that!” he exclaimed in response, a hearty laugh escaping his soft lips as he gently pushed you with his shoulder, causing you to tip over a bit onto his pillow.

You had only gotten a small whiff of the smell but that was enough to make your insides twist and warmth in your body to completely engulf you. His pillow carried a small smell of his normal scent, something that made your mind entirely short circuit and mouth slightly water. You knew Jamie took well care of himself and smelled good. But getting more than just a quick sniff of it as he leaned in to listen to what you had to say while in a busy, buzzing bar or brushed past you made you slightly freeze in your tracks and just want to drown yourself in whatever he used as cologne.

Geez, get yourself together girl, the voice in your head scolded, shaking its head at your behavior and thoughts.

Jamie had opened his mouth to say something else when the door swung open, bouncing off the wall it had made contact with. A couple had stumbled into the room shortly after, lips and arms entangled with each other as they obviously wanted to find a vacant room for some privacy.

Your jaw dropped open in shock at the sight in front of you, a creeping smile beginning to spread on your lips as you tried not to laugh out loud. A couple just barged into Jamie’s room to try to have a fun time without realizing they were occupying the room.

“Uh,” Jamie coughed, springing up from his seated position to stand up, silence and awkwardness filling the air of the room as the couple halted their movements and quickly pulled away from each other.

Apologizes began spewing from their lips, blushes evident on both of their skins as they back up and out of the room, leaving the door wide open as they left in a hurry.

The laugh you were keeping in finally escaped your mouth as you doubled over, clutching your stomach as you found the entire situation hilarious.

Jamie only looked at you like a wounded puppy, frowning as he whined about the couple trying to hook up in his room and how gross that was especially since the two of you were currently in the room. But he eventually gave in and joined in on your laughing fit, just happy to have had spent some time with you before the both of you were so rudely interrupted.

( “What do you mean some couple barged into his room? Did they think it was empty?” Trevor exclaimed, the tone of it whiny. “Does that mean they didn’t do it?”.

Georgie rolled her eyes at the six foot something man. She shouldn’t’ve even agreed to this stupid plan in the first place. Getting you there was a hassle within itself and then to have Trevor’s ‘spectacular’ idea fall to shit not even an hour and a half into the two of you being there was evidence enough that Trevor Zegras was indeed not a match maker.

“I don’t know, Trev! They just came out of his room like two minutes ago. I was watching the door when I saw the couple approach it. I don’t think (Y/N) and Jamie were able to do anything. Your plan sucked, dude. Major time”.

Trevor only groaned in defeat. The first phase of his plan failed. Big time. And now he had to come up with something else to try to get his roommate and best friend together. And God knows that Trevor Zegras will do anything in his power to make it happen. )

————

You didn’t know why you kept doing this to yourself. Kept going on dates with people who just simply didn’t care for you or cared for what you had to say and just wanted a quick succession for the week. It truly boggled your mind on how you managed to attract these kinds of people and had you wondering if you did anything to deserve this kind of treatment.

As you walked in the pouring rain from another horrible date, you found yourself walking the familiar path to Trevor and Jamie’s apartment. Something you always found yourself doing after a particularly hard day, or awful date in this case. It was like your legs had a mind of their own as you appeared in front of the wood door, knuckles rapping at the hard surface before you could think twice about it.

A barely audible coming! and shuffling came from the other side of the door, it swinging open once the owner of the voice finally managed to get to the wooden door.

“Hey! – Oh. What happened? Why are you soaked?”.

Jamie had stood before you, hair slightly disheveled as he probably was gaming or getting ready for a nap before you had interrupted it with your presence. A frown also made its way onto his lips, the corners of his mouth drooping. He looked legitimately concerned as to why you had shown up at his apartment at seven-thirty at night soaked to the bone with your heels in hand.

You must really look like a mess right now, you whispered to yourself in your head, mentally scolding yourself for disturbing whatever he was doing before you had shown up.

“Are you okay?” He softly asked, ushering you inside the warm apartment with the same amount of gentleness his voice carried. God, that made you want to cry on the spot.

Your wet and cold hand quickly slipped out of his warm calloused ones as you pulled it back, stepping back into the hallway, shaking your head as you went to open your mouth. “It’s not that big of a deal anyway. I don’t know why I stopped by. I’m sorry for disturbing your night”.

Your words seemed to have an effect on Jamie as his frown deepened and hand went out to grasp yours back into his own. Eyes filled with concern as he tried to decipher why you would say that.

It must’ve been a big enough deal for her to end up here, Jamie thought to himself as he knew that his and Trevor’s apartment was often a safe place for you. More like the people renting the space we’re the comfort than the home itself.

“Please,” he pleaded, “Come inside. You don’t have to tell me what happened but at least wait until the rain stops to go back home”.

When you had looked up, Jamie’s blue eyes held such concern that you wanted to comfort him, ignoring your own hurt to make him feel better. Maybe that’s why your relationships always ended badly. You put others needs and feelings before your own, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with Jamie.

You simply nodded your head to his request, allowing him to gently drag you into the warmer apartment as he took your discarded heels from your hands and dropped them onto the floor, other hand still in your own.

“I can get some of Trevor clothes for you to wear if you’d like. He’s out with Mason and the boys tonight, but he’ll be back soon,” he whispered as if he was scared you’d crack and crumble to the ground in a thousand pieces if he spoke any louder.

“Please,” you muttered, now shaking from the rain you endured only minutes prior. Droplets of water still dropped from the soaked end of your dress and hair.

Jamie mumbled a quick okay before urging you to follow him, your soft hand still grasped in his rough one before he gently dropped it to retrieve some clothes for you.

Upon entering the apartment, its warmth settled itself into your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body, dress still dripping from your walk in the rain. Wrapping your arms around your shaking torso, you shook your head at yourself and began to mumble about how stupid it was to go to Trevor and Jamie’s instead of yours. You didn’t want him seeing you like this. You felt pathetic enough already and didn’t need him judging you for your lackluster of a dating life.

“I couldn’t find anything of Trevor’s that was clean, or that didn’t look suspiciously dirty. So I hope you don’t mind wearing some of mine,” Jamie spoke up, a large sweatshirt and some gray sweatpants in hand. An awkward smile painted his lips as he nervously held out the pieces of clothing for you, heart beating rapidly in his chest as you grabbed the clothes from his grasp.

“Thank you,” you shuttered, lips a paler color as your teeth knocked themselves together.

Your eyes avoided Jamie’s as you made your way to the guest bathroom, stripping yourself of your sopping clothes and quickly changing into the dry ones of Jamie’s. Albeit him not being a very tall man, the ends of his sweater sleeves still managed to cover the entirety of your hands and engulf you in a comforting way.

The feeling of wearing Jamie’s clothes was very different from wearing Trevor’s. You never felt warm or giddy wearing Trevor’s stuff. It was always something normal between the two of you that neither of you thought twice about. But with Jamie, it felt different. A good different. Like there was more to it than just wearing his clothes. It comforted you in a way that Trevor’s wasn’t able to.

A soft knock came from the other side of the door as you wiped the remnants of your makeup away, “Do you want some hot chocolate? I could make some for you if you’d like. Warm you up a bit”.

A pang of guilt erupted within your chest, feeling bad for having Jamie do all of this for you when he didn’t even know why you had showed up at his front door upset and wet from the rain. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. With you.

Your hesitation and lack of an answer allowed Jamie to believe that you weren’t in the mood for one. But he’d make you a cup anyway. Just in case.

Minutes had passed before you exited the bathroom, hair thrown up in a towel to dry and body now warm and skin back to its original hue. Jamie was propped up against the counter, elbows on the cool surface as he hurriedly typed away on his phone, thick eyebrows drawn slightly together as he focused on the screen in front of him. You assumed he was texting Trevor and updating him on your presence in their apartment. Another pang of guilt struck.

“If you need, I can leave. Don’t want to be too much trouble,” you spoke up, nervously picking at the nail beds of your fingers from where you stood.

The dark haired man slightly jumped, surprised to have not heard you exit the bathroom. He turned to face you, placing his phone onto the counter as it continued to buzz. “No,” he spoke, “You don’t need to. I want to help you and it is not any trouble at all. You were in need and I want to be there for you”.

The words he spoke to you made you want to cry all over again. No one’s ever made it a point to you that they genuinely wanted to help you. Jamie seemed honest enough in what he said and the concern painted on his face was enough to convince you that this was alright. That it was alright for him to help you and be there for you, even if you didn’t believe it yourself.

You gently smiled, “Is the hot chocolate still an offer?”.

“When is it not,” he smiled back, reaching for the tucked away microwave in the corner, opening it to reveal a still steaming cup of hot cocoa.

————

“Hey! So sorry for not getting here fast enough. Traffic was literally the worst. And Mason! Don’t get me started on – Oh”.

Trevor stopped in his tracks, jaw open in shock as he began to properly process the scene in front of him. The poor boy had to rush from the bar he was at with Mason and the others once he was sober enough to drive back. But the LA traffic had gotten the best of him and caused him to come back home more than an hour later than intended. He was utterly disheveled once he managed to unlock the door of his apartment and squeeze through the opening, apologizing for being late. When Jamie had texted him about you showing up at their door soaked and barefoot and that he probably should come back to the apartment, he nearly choked on the beer that was making its way down his throat. He read and responded to the text at seven-forty-five but had now just gotten back home, which was at nine o’clock.

“Looks like she didn’t need much of my comforting after all,” he whispered to himself as his eyes danced from you and Jamie’s intertwined bodies.

Trevor could only assume that Jamie had offered to watch your favorite comfort movie in an attempt to cheer you up, the end credits of Coraline on pause as the screen displayed the director and producer of the movie. Another thing he could most definitely assume was that halfway through the movie, you fell asleep on Jamie, which caused him to try to shift you into a more comfortable position only for you to cling onto him for his warmth, forcing yourself closer to his body heat as he gave up and just settled into the position he was currently in.

The brunet only snorted and shook his head at the two peacefully sleeping. There’s absolutely no way he was going to allow either of them to forget this moment. Even when the both of you would deny and deny the fact. Perhaps his plan was working, slowly but surely.

Now, he thought, onto phase two.

—

#drysdalesworld reblog!

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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the orange peel theory

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): none!

note(s): this quinn gif makes me go literally feral <3 also, i rewrote this many different times to try to get it right but idk if it helped lol

“Babe, can I have an orange?”.

Your voice was soft when you had asked your boyfriend, him being busy with putting away the dishes in the washer.

A while ago, you had seen a TikTok video of a girl asking her boyfriend if he could peel her orange for her, his next action somehow displaying how he treated her and viewed their relationship, at least according to the theory specialists. You thought it was cute and wanted to try it out with Quinn, curious as to what he’d do.

“Sure,” he responded, wiping his hands on the clean dish towel hanging from the handle of one of the kitchen drawers. “Want me to peel or cut it for you?”.

His following question didn’t surprise you much. He’d always ask you a similar question whenever you asked for something in the kitchen, wanting to make sure whatever you asked him for was up to par with what you had in mind. But it still made your heart flutter and smile nonetheless.

“Can you peel it please? I don’t like the way the juice makes my hands feel”.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he smiled back, retreating further into the kitchen to grab you your orange.

The sound of feet shuffling and the orange being peeled made your smile widen, thankful for someone that didn’t mind the little things such as peeling your oranges for you and happily did it for you as well.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on the man’s lips as he handed you your peeled orange.

“Anything for you,” he whispered back, a smile painted on his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss, sneakily stealing a piece of your orange as he did so.

—

#drysdalesworld works!#drysdalesworld #hockey x reader #nhl x reader #hockey #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #blurb #orange peel theory

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drysdalesworld · 2 months

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he’s on my mind 24/7 fr

Jamie look so good as a Flyer

#jamie drysdale #philadephia flyers #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #drysdalesworlds #drysdalesworlds reblog!

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