#Jamie Drysdale smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelwithdemonictendencies · 4 months

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all my life i've been frozen, forgive me if i wince at your warmth; kiss my blue lips and say the frost brings out my eyes.

jd6 x reader: maybe roommates wasn't the best idea (sugar pt. 2).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (we're back, and this is a good one), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), hair pulling and spit and all my usual stuff (you guys know. legs and lips and all that nonsense). lots of whining and whimpering from the ducks defenseman with the giant traps. descriptions of general insecurity (but of course!). know yourself and your limits, please don't read if you're not 100% sure).

(a/n: alright, my favorites. here you have it, the promised continuation of my jd6 sugar piece from halloween (so please read that here first so this makes sense)! and yes, it's long (11.1k), so thank you, as always, for your support and kindness and patience and gentleness. congratulations to jd6 for his return to the big leagues. this is his prize, i'm sure he'll be thrilled. it appears it's impossible for me to write a story without using tz11 as a comedic side character. obviously there is nothing realistic about this, such is the upside of fictitious writing. can you tell i had an idea for like two scenes and then filled in all the blanks? (been wanting to write gaming chair head for a million years). if you relate to the more serious insecurities addressed within this story, know i'm here for you. please believe that it is so utterly and completely fathomable that people are and will be attracted to and interested in you! anyways, please let me know what you think (and who/what you want next)! go canucks (and all-star qh43). until next time, all my love).

it had taken little convincing on either side for jamie to move in with you. it was sort of funny, how not so long ago, it had been only you in your apartment, and now he was there, too, evidence of him all around.

a few months in, you had almost forgotten what the fridge looked like without his recovery drinks lining the shelves, what the living room smelled like without his favorite candle burning, what the mudroom looked like without his shoes and bags littered around the door.

you had grown accustomed to him, in his entirety, and the more he revealed about himself, the more trouble you had remembering what this place had been like without him.

it seemed so crucially important that you knew about his culinary endeavors (he was trying ever so hard to branch out beyond chicken and rice). it seemed of the utmost significance that you understood all of his favorites of everything, and that he knew all of yours in return. because if you didn't, one of you might bring home a flavor of ice cream the other didn't like, or flowers the other didn't like the color of, or something like that.

and if he didn't know the names of your favorite movies, how would he be able to talk to you about them? and if you didn't have a little bit of a grasp on the gaming world, how could you keep up when he rambled on about it?

you told yourself it was only polite that you knew about his interests, and his family, and his friends, and his dreams. that he was only being polite when he asked about all of yours.

you were sort of shocked at how quickly he had made his presence known within your routine. his schedule merged with yours on the calendar attached to the fridge. his friends came over to play video games, yours to watch movies.

you were proud of yourself for how you had handled his moving in, really, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't have an effect on you. he was the same blushing, stuttering, beautiful boy who had dropped that plant in your doorway, after all.

and you were acutely aware of the effect he had on you, from that very first day. he didn't seem to let you forget it, like the night, a few days into your new arrangement, when you went into the kitchen around midnight to get a glass of water.

something you had done, time and time again, almost every night, alone. so you were startled, to say the least, when you felt a figure behind you. you whipped around, your heartbeat elevated, thudding in your chest, in your neck.

you placed a hand over your heart to still yourself when you recognized that shaggy dark hair, square face, broad build.

"fuck, jamie," you practically whispered, your voice tense, "you scared me." you made to pour him a glass of water, willed your body to emerge from danger mode.

"'m sorry, petal," he murmured, and his tone alone could have set your body ablaze, rumbling through you like an earthquake. "didn't mean to." apology thickened his words like cornstarch.

"'s okay," you said as you passed him the glass, took a sip from your own.

if it was light you would have seen his eyes track the motion, how his gaze seemed to get stuck on your lips around the rim of your glass.

there was something very heavy about sharing this space with him, especially now, in the cover of the night. you felt freer, almost indulgent, in taking him in. less guilty in your secret wanting. suddenly your brow furrowed in concern. "did i wake you up?"

he shrugged, took a sip of his water, which made your swallow shaky. "walls are thin," he rasped. "just wanted to make sure you were okay."

your exhale was shallow as you took in his words. this exchange in the dark was too dangerous, too much. you made to go back to your room, stopping to place a wanting palm on his corded shoulder as you passed him. you felt him flex instinctively under your touch, suddenly wanted, simultaneously, to be anywhere but here and to never leave. "thanks for checking on me, jamie," you whispered. it seemed to have been so long since someone had done that.

there was a pause full of uncertainty. "'course," he replied, rough and rolling.

you were so, so, close, and such a predicament could have ignited the foundation of the building in all of its seriousness.

that exchange, so early on in knowing him, nonetheless had you promising yourself that you wouldn't let your relationship with jamie grow beyond anything besides roommates. just roommates, you said, and that's it. anything past that boundary was too dangerous, too charged, too soaked in meaning and feeling and wanting.

but such a promise was proving hard to keep, even months later. because as comfortable as you had grown to each other, there was something so deliriously uncomfortable about being so close to each other, so ridiculously entwined in each others' days, and yet not touching, not indulging the desire you both so felt. so scared to look desperate, to be caught red handed in want, even if that was exactly true.

regardless, such a promise was proving hard to keep, especially on days like today.

you were sitting at the kitchen counter, one leg pulled up to your chest as you sat on a stool. you still worked at the same coffee shop, and you still loved it, but you had picked up some copywriting jobs here and there, too.

naturally, you looked up when you sensed another figure enter the room. your gaze caught on a very sleepy jamie with a very sleepy smile.

"morning," he said, his voice rough and raspy with remnants of night.

you felt your mouth tick upwards in response to his presence. "morning, jamie," you replied, shifting on your stool, willing jittery attraction out of your voice, out of your head. there was no space for that here, you told yourself. you cleared your throat as he made himself a cup of tea. "doing anything fun today?"

he turned to you, leaned his frame back against the counter, a movement so comfortable it made you blush. he hummed, thinking, before meeting your eyes. "nothing out of the routine," he mused, his gaze on you making you feel his attention in your feet, in the tips of your fingers. "when're you working? maybe i'll swing by."

your chest thumped at the thought of him taking time to come see you, even though that wasn't necessarily rare anymore. he visited your coffee shop at least once a week, but the sentiment of it all wasn't lost on you. the preciosity of someone deeming you worthy of a drive, however short.

you leaned on your clasped hands, scrunched up your nose in gentle pleasantry. "two to close, today," you told him, "but you don't have to come."

his eyes softened ever so slightly, his expression all maple syrup and pancakes on a lazy sunday morning. "want to, petal," he told you, taking his mug and starting back towards his room. "give me something to look forward to, eh?"

you were glad to hear his door swing shut behind him, if only so that he didn't see your face scrunch up further in guilty delight, at being his something to look forward to.

if jamie had settled into being your roommate, your favorite coworker had not settled into that fact. or maybe she had settled in, but it didn't appear that she would be giving you or him a break anytime soon.

it had only been a couple of months, and she had yet to go a day without bringing him up, nevermind going a visit without saying something you were sure would embarrass him.

as promised, after his workout and skate, the bell above the door jingled. you swore the sound was louder, more jubilant when he opened the door than any other patron.

he's here, the bell seemed to sing, finally, finally, he's here! you fought the urge to shush the inanimate object.

"well, well, well," your coworker said, wiping down the counter, "honestly, 6, i'm shocked you had any time to stop by, given your packed schedule of not shooting the puck."

you shook your head at her. "don't be mean, lovely," you chastised. you locked eyes with jamie, molten chocolate and stained glass. "i'm sure you shoot just enough."

his returning grin was carefully confident. "right as always," he told your coworker, "if we had a coaching opening i'd put in a good word."

this quickly spurred your coworker into a heated rant about how poorly the coach of the ducks was handling his roster full of young talent.

you began the process of making his drink, the one he insisted on ever since that first day. he had told you before that nothing could possibly be better than your fall themed treat. as you shook the maple syrup and espresso with ice, you missed the way a flush dusted across the bridge of his nose, like a day out in the sun.

your coworker did not miss this, however. she smirked, tilted her head. "a bit hot in here, drysdale? you look a little flushed."

he shot her a look, one which she mimicked before you turned to hand him his drink.

"here you are," you said as his hand closed over yours around the to-go cup.

your mind sparked and sputtered at the feeling of his warm hand over your fingers. he could have grabbed under your hand, the hopeless romantic in your head screeched. he could have avoided your touch, but he didn't!

but you had long ago resigned to refusing to listen to the hopeless romantic, in all of her desperate and shameful loveliness. you couldn't trust her, you had learned. she only ever left you feeling lost and longing.

so you silenced her, ignored her big, teary eyes as you dismissed her for the thousandth time, pulled your hand away.

"thank you, petal," he said, so genuine and sweet, so exactly him. it seemed cruel that you still weren't used to him, to his kindness, that he was still evoking this kind of response from you.

your only solace was that he didn't seem to be finding it especially easy, either, if his flickering gaze or flexing hands were anything to go by.

"you're welcome," you replied. "headed home now?"

he hummed in affirmation, rocked back on his heels. "when will you be home?"

you could have sighed at just how domestic it all was, like some kind of sixties fantasy. honey, i'm home! echoed in your head.

but you shut that down as quickly as it appeared. "why?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, "expecting company, or something?" your mouth quirked. "maybe a girl?"

he paled, and you were surprised at your nerve, too. you didn't really know why you were doing this, why you would ask. you and jamie didn't have that kind of relationship, and why would you ask that anyway, when you knew for a fact one of the possible two answers would cut through you like a warm knife through butter?

thankfully, your coworker broke the tension with an exaggerated laugh, actually slapping the counter before looking up and clocking both of the confused looks turned her way. "oh," she said, looking between the two of you, "was that not a joke?" she nodded. "alright then, my bad."

jamie gave a short shake of his head as if mentally moving on. "no one's coming over," he said to you, "just wanted to know when i should make dinner."

in a cartoon, your heart would have beat out of your chest, through your shirt and folded apron. "i'll be back at seven," you told him. "i'll see you then?"

his smile warmed the room. "see you then, petal."

the bell rang, this time dreary and disappointed, as the door shut behind him.

your coworker immediately turned to you, eyes teasing and playful.

"if you're gonna say something, lovely, just say it," you prompted, taking out the closing checklist.

she was practically buzzing on her feet. "tell me you've given up on your no fraternizing with roommates rule," she begged, clasping her hands for emphasis. "tell me you realize how obvious you're both being."

you waved her off, shook your head. "the rule is there because it's important," you chided, "and there's no way he's into me like i'm into him." a line you had used about almost every guy you had liked, repeated so many times in your head it was practically a hymn.

she folded her arms in front of her chest, rolled her eyes. "when you're ready to come to terms with people finding you attractive and interesting and wonderful, as you are, let me know," she called out over her shoulder as she went on her smoke break.

her words stayed with you, though, because they were meaningful. it was hard for you, dreadfully so, to even fathom that someone could find you worthy of their time, their energy, their attention.

even when you were actively flirting with people, acting confident, like you were that first day when jamie walked into your coffee shop, it felt as false, as foreign, as theatrical as shakespeare in the park.

why was it so easy for you to give all of that to others, why did you want to give it to them so desperately? why did it feel like such an impossible ask for someone to give that to you?

her words were burrowing in the back of your mind as you locked the front door of your apartment behind you, breathed in a delicious smell, maybe rosemary? thyme?

you let yourself drift into the kitchen, were met with a freshly showered jamie in pajama pants and an old ohl t-shirt. he stood over the stovetop, humming something, before turning and meeting your eyes, sending a spark flickering through your veins.

"welcome home, petal," he said, his full lips quirking up in that gentle smile you had come to crave.

"long time no see," you teased, knowing it had been only a couple of hours.

his gaze was full of something heavy when he tilted his head, heaped some pasta onto two plates. "felt long," he admitted, "the house is so weird without you here."

your stomach flipped. he couldn't just say things like that, you decided, if he didn't expect you to melt completely, a puddle of pink glitter glue on the hardwood floor.

"weird how?" you asked, hating yourself for pushing.

your mother's voice was jarring, harsh in your head. don't fish for compliments, she always said, it's vain.

now that you were older, you wanted a chance to respond to her. is it fishing for compliments if you never get any? if all you ever hear is how you could do better? you took a breath. is it so wrong to want to hear something good?

jamie didn't appear to think you were being vain, anyways. "weird like quiet," he said, gentle and soft, "i don't know, honestly, just different. it's better when you're here."

you couldn't help but blush at his words, even though you had asked for them. the mother in your head scoffed.

you smiled at him, so genuine you could feel your eyes crinkle at the corners. "i think it's better when you're here, too," you said, low and loaded like a secret.

suddenly the air between you grew thick and heavy, simmering with something the reason in you knew better than to identify. you held each other's gazes for a moment, almost begging, daring the other to do something.

you had never been the kind of person to pick dare during sleepover games, always felt truth was the safer bet. now, there was nothing safe about the truth, either. you cleared your throat, fidgeted with your fingers, dropped your gaze and asked him about practice, what he made for dinner.

do you think about me like i think about you? you wanted to ask him. have you ever wanted me to just hold you after a long day? have you ever thought about what my lips would feel like on your neck?

you shivered, pushed the thoughts away as you ate dinner together, tried to lean into the privilege of spending time with him, even if you wished for something more.

can't this be enough? you pleaded. why isn't this enough?

the words of your routine spun around the two of you like a whirlpool. work, skate, game, lift, dinner, road trip, copywriting. the words of your combined schedules swirled around your head.

better those that the other words, always lurking around the two of you like childhood monsters under a bed: eyes, heat, lips, sweet, gentle, soft, shoulders, arms.

you must have zoned out, because he waved a hand once in front of your face. "petal?"

you shook yourself out of your trance-like state. "sorry," you said, already feeling the familiar flush of embarrassment.

he fixed you with a look. "for what?" he asked, less confused, more curious.

you closed your eyes for a second, took a deep breath. why was he making you explain this? "i mean, i was probably staring at you, right?" you said, feeling the shame of it prick you on the fingers like a thousand needles.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before meeting your eyes again. there was a silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was husky. "you can stare at me all you want, petal."

you could have whimpered, could have screamed. don't say things like that to me, you wanted to tell him. tell me things like that every second until i die, you also wanted to say.

"really?" you whispered, too starry-eyed to cringe at yourself. your food lay forgotten in front of you. how many times had you eaten dinner together, just like this? how many times had you pushed this feeling away? was it possible that he was doing just the same?

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, a self-satisfied move from him you have never really seen before. you rubbed your crossed ankles together.

you took a breath, a last beat of courage, before reaching across the counter and brushing his hair from out of his eyes. his skin scorched your fingertips, his eyes made your breathing slow and shallow. "you can stare at me, too," you said to him, pulling your arm back.

his eyes were full of understanding. "i know," he told you. "i do."

that knowledge was still haunting you days later. that he noticed you, registered your presence, like you did him. how could you ever act normally again, knowing this? how could you ever act without the constant weight of him around?

so you did the only thing you could think of - you ignored him, avoided him, hoped to skillfully evade his careful gaze, however much it hurt you not to see him, to talk with him, to ask him how practices and games went.

such a task became impossible when the bell clinked cheerily, the following weekend, signifying you and the coffee shop of the arrival of its favorite patron.

you looked up, halfway surprised to see him enter with another person, too, a teammate you had met, you were sure of it, but one you couldn't quite recall the name of. the two of them approached the counter in a shroud of laughter and easiness.

apparently, your coworker recognized the friend, too, because upon their approach she began a slow, sarcastic applause. "gentlemen," she said, "allow me to congratulate you on a recording breaking game last night."

jamie and his friend shared a look. "um," jamie began, careful, "we lost last night."

"oh," your coworker finished an order and set it on the pick-up counter. "i should have clarified. the record was for laziest defensive performance i've ever witnessed." she gave them a quick thumbs up. "congrats again! know you guys have been working real hard for this one."

jamie shook his head lightheartedly before locking eyes with you, smiling slightly. you hadn't really spoken since the other night, but you still didn't really know what to say. you didn't know where you stood, what lines were still drawn.

thankfully, your coworker refused to drop it, not leaving any opportunity for silence, now speaking directly to the newcomer. "i'm so happy you're here, 11," she continued. "you know that you're allowed in your own defensive zone, right? feel free to cross the red line, i think you'll find that defense makes winning a lot easier."

the object of your coworkers jabs turned to jamie. "am i supposed to take this?"

jamie shrugged. "i usually do."

she waved him off. "yeah, but you're hoping i'll put in a good word with your roommate." you blushed at her words, hope sparking at the possibility of them being true.

jamie didn't drop your gaze. "yeah, and how far is that getting me? you gonna put in a good word?"

every fiber of your being told you not to take his words at face value. every fiber of your being wanted to.

she scoffed. "yeah, right. if anything i'd just say you're a pushover."

the newcomer scrunched up his expressive face. "well, in that case, why don't you keep your thoughtful advice to yourself?"

she tilted her head back and laughed. "what, 11, can't take a little feedback?" she pouted, false pity all over her face. "guess you're every bit the flashy bust they say you are."

"no one is saying that!" he fumed, "literally name one person who is saying that!"

you and your roommate stifled your laughter as their argument grew.

you made him his drink, handed it over. his face was gentle, soft as took the cup from you. "you're avoiding me," he said, not accusatory, a simple observation.

you couldn't lie to him and say you weren't, so you only stayed quiet.

"i miss you," he said, so simple and genuine in its honesty that you could have cried.

"i miss you, too," you said, easy as an exhale.

his gaze glimmered. "so watch a movie with me tonight, yeah?"

your mouth twitched, because you wanted to, so badly, but you didn't know if you could trust yourself.

he shifted back and forth on his heels. the sun dripped so languishingly over his brow, down his jaw and neck. "please?" he asked, and you were done.

"okay," you conceded, butterflies already fluttering to life in your stomach at the thought of spending tonight with him on the couch.

a thud and a grunt shook you both from your conversation as you turned to your respective friends. your coworker appeared to be throwing bags of coffee beans at jamie's teammate. "can't hide behind a ref now, can you?" she taunted the lanky newcomer, who struggled to catch the bags.

"this is the behavior of a deranged fan," he pointed out, placing the bags back on the counter. "i hope you realize that."

"you wish i was a fan of yours," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "on an unrelated note, can i take a video of you wishing my little brother good luck on his math test tomorrow?"

the video was filmed, reluctant thanks and apologies were given and accepted.

"i apologize for the physical assault, but not the truth, 11," your coworker conceded, "and you're only getting any apology at all because this is going to mean the world to my brother."

"can't you just apologize normally?" you pushed, looking to make the rest of the patrons more comfortable, the energy less combative.

"tell you what," she said to him, "if you put in some effort next game to something besides michigans and between-the-legs shots, i'll give you the best apology you've ever seen."

jamie hissed. "he's gonna take that in a way you won't like."

his teammate leveled your coworker with a smirk. "do i get to pick how you apologize?"

she scoffed, an angry flush all over her face. "no, you don't get to pick! what the hell is the matter with you?"

you and jamie shared a look at their bickering. see you at home, petal, he mouthed to you on the way out, argumentative words still saturating the air.

bye, jamie, you mouthed back with a wave.

when you got back from work, called out your greeting, settled in, and changed out of your uniform, you found him on the couch, were all too happy to join him, however off limits it felt.

he felt off limits, like this, all messy hair and eyes tired with the day, worn-in sweatpants and sweatshirts from junior hockey and lazy stretches that revealed slivers of skin.

you lifted up a blanket, pulled your knees to your chest underneath it, avoided his gaze. "your friend's a character, hm?" you started.

he shifted his posture to get a better look at you, even though he was now faced halfway away from the movie he was in the middle of. "who, trevor?" he gave a playful roll of his eyes. "ignore him. he thinks your friend's hot and doesn't know what to do about it."

"that's him flirting?" you said, eyes wide, words spoken slowly for emphasis. "good grief, his act needs some work."

jamie's smile slanted into something dangerous. "what, wouldn't work on you, petal?" suddenly the blanket over you seemed like entirely not enough coverage. you felt completely exposed as you gave a slight shake of your head. he draped a heavy arm along the back of the couch. "no?" he paused, forced you to meet his magnetic gaze as he ran a hand through his hair. "what would work on you, then?"

you searched his eyes for a drop of humor, of teasing, of something that would hurt you, as you had long ago trained yourself to. you could sniff out potential abandonment, embarrassment like a bloodhound. but you came up empty, with him.

what could you say to him? that anything that he does, anything he could ever do, that's what would work on you? that he works on you?

your careful silence could have been a banshee scream into an open expanse as the air between the two of you again adopted that rolling flame, that lick of heat up your bare legs.

your eyes widened as he tugged your feet and calves into his laps with one hand, gently but firmly, just enough so that you could feel the warmth from his thick quads pooling in the backs of your knees.

just close enough to want more. just close enough to know you shouldn't.

"'m picky," you said, almost out of breath, swallowing your uneasiness down until the only thing you felt was him. "not into the interest disguised as insults."

he hummed as if he understood, ran his fingers over your shins, feather-light, so much so that later you would wonder if you had only imagined he had touched you. "so what?" he said, meeting your eyes in the dim light you had long ago deemed especially dangerous. "like to be called pretty, petal? like it when they make it, so, so easy for you?" his fingers dragged across your ankle in an electrifying way that had you forgetting about your promise. "like when they go slow?"

you let out some kind of strangled sound, halfway between a nervous laugh and a whimper. because you did like all of those things, of course you did. you liked proof that people cared about you, how could you not?

you couldn't even dwell on how delicious the word pretty sounded in his mouth, how much you wanted to taste it, because something else in his wording willed confidence into your body, clarity into your head in place of guilt.

"who's they?" you asked, your voice steadier than it had been in weeks.

"hm?" he asked, rough.

"i said," you repeated, shifting your body until you rested on top of his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. "who's they?" you were closer than you had ever been as you felt him underneath you, almost chest to chest. so close you could feel his breathing stutter against you. you brushed his messy hair from his face until you could see his eyes in all of their gorgeous truth. "i don't care much about them, jamie."

something rumbled in him, something you felt in your bones. he looked so, so beautiful, and his mouth was right there, and was he tilting his head closer to you? and-

"jim! when the hell are you gonna give me back my blender?" your door swinging open and shut might as well have been a strike of lightning as you scrambled away from each other. trevor's voice cut through your apartment like thunder, like a cold shower.

in a moment he appeared in the doorframe, suddenly eyeing the two of you with the suspicion only a best friend could muster. he gestured between the two of you, now comically far apart on opposite sides of the couch.

"what's going on here?" he asked.

jamie tilted his head back again, wiped at his face with both hands. "sure, yeah, come on in," he said to trevor through his fingers.

"how did you get in here?" you asked, you voice still dark with want, the aftermath of confidence still lacing your tone.

"key," trevor said, waving you off as if this piece of information wasn't relevant. "why?" he looked between the two of you again, eyes narrowed. "'m i interrupting something?"

silence followed. you didn't look at jamie, and he didn't clarify. "no," you said finally, not angry, but knowing the moment was over. "i guess not."

and so you pulled yourself up, made your way back to your room, every inch of your skin buzzing, every heartbeat a burst of electricity through your body.

voices grew fainter as you neared your door.

"if you'd just give me back my blender this wouldn't be such a problem," trevor hissed.

"and you couldn't've shot me a text? figured you'd just break in to my house?" jamie's voice was resigned. you knew he could never stay mad at his friend.

"it's not breaking in if you gave me a key, scumbag."

you shut your door behind you and collapsed onto your bed, still feeling the phantom of his body underneath you, the ghost of his fingertips digging into your hips. you groaned into a pillow, hating that when you closed your eyes all you saw was his full, pink mouth.

the next day, when you relayed all of this new, and not so new information to your friend at work, she shook her head slowly.

"i don't know," she said, pouring a double shot over ice, "but it sounds like you've either gotta make this thing serious or check out your other options." she shot you a look. "no more of this pining bullshit."

you whacked her with a rag playfully, but sighed. "i can't make it serious. and i don't have other options, so looks like pining's all i got."

"tell me you're kidding." she glared at you. "i've had like three friends just in the past week come in and text me after asking if you're single."

you scrunched up your face. "no, you haven't," you said, knowing there's no way that could be true.

"callin' me a liar?" she prompted, pulling out her phone with her free hand and scrolling until she found one of the texts, facing it to you.

sure enough, there was a message from some guy, some ordinary name, asking if she'd set him up with the "smoke in the canada hat," referring to the hat you had borrowed of jamie's earlier this week.

"whatever," you said, "it doesn't really matter."

"it does matter." your friend set the drink down on the pickup counter and turned to meet your gaze entirely. "it matters to me that you find it so hard to believe that people are into you." she grasped for one of your hands, held it firmly.

her touch was welcome, and so were her words. because honestly, you knew why you found it so hard to believe. because even though you had a pretty good relationship with yourself, even though you knew now that you were beautiful, and smart, and funny, and kind, when you were young, you didn't know that. when you were young, the people you were closest to were basically telling you that you weren't those things.

flashes of tense family dinners, long car rides during which you were the butt of every joke shot across your mind like meteors, just as destructive.

saw you talking to a boy today during lunch, one of your older siblings would say after a long day, maybe middle school, maybe sophomore year. is he your boy-friend? the words slow and taunting, malicious, immediately making an angry, embarrassed flush break out across your face.

don't be ridiculous, peanut, your mother would scold your sibling from the front seat, it's rude. and it's not like she was wrong, the boy you had been talking to wasn't your boyfriend, but it stung like a wasp nonetheless.

why is it ridiculous? you wanted to ask, tears brimming, hot behind your eyes. would that really be so hard to believe?

or countless calls with your parents during your first year of college, each more demeaning than the last. you know you're allowed to date, right? your mother might say. you know we aren't strict about that kind of thing. you held back a bitter and sarcastic congratulations.

i know, you would say, trying to hide the defeat you felt at the disappointed sigh she had done such a poor job of hiding.

every not-so subtle jab landed deep, until even the words put yourself out there induced a physical reaction.

it hurt to think about allowing yourself to want, to be wanted, because what if they laughed in your face? what if it all really was ridiculous, all this time? what if it really was hard to believe?

you sighed, now, squeezed your coworker's hand.

"how about this," she proposed, her eyes as soft as you had ever seen them. "how about i set you up with one of my friends who's interested, just one date, and we see how it goes? no pressure, and i'll make sure he knows it's no pressure. think of it like practice."

you thought for a moment, bit your lip. you could use a stress-free practice, that much was true, and you trusted this friend to not set you up with a sleaze-ball. and, you confessed, if you wanted to fizzle out whatever was going on with your roommate, this would probably be a good start.

so you agreed. the decision was made easier by the fact that jamie was on the road this week, so you didn't have him to distract you. the day of your dinner date ended up being the day he was set to return, but he wasn't supposed to get back until the middle of the night.

you wouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone, or even tell anyone how it went, if you didn't want to, you reminded yourself. just practice, no pressure.

and the guy was really sweet, honestly. he was good-looking, too, if not a bit more lanky, taller than the guys you usually went for. he asked you questions, and seemed to care about the answers, and you found yourself in a full conversation with him pretty easily.

but then something in your mind would catch on his shoulders and think not big enough to sink your teeth into, and then on his mouth and think he'd never call you petal, and then on his cheeks, which didn't blush the whole night, not even once.

and he was a really nice guy, but you found yourself wanting to invite him to join your friend group's book club, not invite him back to your place. you found yourself thinking quite intently about a certain person who was not, in fact, the man sitting across from you at the table.

which was fine, you realized, because this is practice, and he doesn't have to be the one. practice means you can find a friend.

so, with a smile, a shared admission that you would like to get to know each others as friends, and a promise to send him the address to the next book club meeting, you left your first date in forever feeling proud of yourself.

on your way back into your apartment, you sent your friend from work a thank you text before making your way to your room and changing into something more comfortable.

you settled on sleep shorts and an old t-shirt before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, breathing in the smell of steeping chamomile when a sound behind you made you jump.

thankfully you would recognize that frame anywhere. you exhaled. "jesus, jamie," you breathed, "thought you wouldn't be back 'til later."

he stepped forward, the light so dark and dim and dangerous, especially after not seeing him all week. the slope of his high cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw, the deep pooling of feeling in his eyes. it all rushed at you a million miles an hour and stole your breath.

"got in early," he explained, his gaze ever so slow down your figure, like he was mapping it, committing it to memory. "were you out?" he asked, his voice suddenly rough.

you swallowed, thinking about what to say. a pause settled between the two of you, thick like mud, decadent like chocolate pudding.

i missed you, you wanted to tell him. tell me you missed me, too.

he inched closer still, leaned against the kitchen counter as you busied yourself with stirring your tea with the tea bag. "don't wanna tell me?" he mused. "how could that be, petal?"

you didn't meet his eyes, suddenly feeling childish. "went on a date."

you were both silent, for a moment. you looked up to check if he was still there. "and why didn't you wanna tell me?" his voice was gravelly.

your hands were shaking, you realized, so you set down your mug, crossed your arms against your chest with a sigh. "he was nice," you admitted, didn't quite miss the green flame that sparked across his gaze, blinked out in a moment. "but i was distracted." you looked down at your feet.

then he was right in front of you, a step apart. it had been so long since you had been so close, and the memory of what had happed that last time burned between the two of you, unspoken, yet the most obvious fixture in the room.

you looked up to meet his curious, careful gaze, wanted so badly to lean forward, sink into his broad chest, breathe him in and never stop.

"by what, petal?" he asked, so close you could practically feel the words on your own lips, his tone so low and heavy your stomach dropped.

you swallowed, watched his eyes track the movement. "you," you said simply, honestly.

and then his eyes searched yours for a single telling moment before his hands came to cup your face, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that held a million i missed you, i missed you, i missed you's.

you let out some soft noise into his mouth at the lovely pressure of his lips against yours, so firm and knowing. you pressed yourself so closely against his chest, one hand on his collarbone, the other grasping around his neck.

he leaned forward into you so pleasantly before moving his arms down to lift you by the waist, setting you down gently on the top of the counter, moaning when you fixed your hands in his hair.

you swallowed down his sounds like elixir, wanted every single one of them, as his wide hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips slowly. you raked your hands down the back of neck delicately, enough to relish in the shudder left in their wake.

finally, you both pulled away, only just, only enough to slow your heaving chests, enough to selfishly see the effect you both had on the other. matching glossed over gazes, swollen lips, exhales heavy with unspoken words.

you pushed some of his hair from his face, soft under your gentle fingers, could have swooned at how he was looking at you, right now. like there was no one else in the universe, like the stars existed only for you.

"i have to go home tomorrow," you said, suddenly, like a ridiculous idiot, wanting to shove the words back into your mouth as he traced light circles across the tops of your thigh. why did you say that?

but his expression didn't change. "i'll come," he said immediately.

your heart jumped, but you didn't want him to come and see your family, really, because family gatherings never were the most flattering, for you. "you don't have to," you said, "i know you're busy, and it's just for a little bit, just for the day."

"i'll come, petal," he repeated.

your mouth quirked, just a bit. "yeah?"

"yeah," he said, a drowsy smile slanting across his face. a smile you couldn't say no to, a smile you just had to feel against your lips.

a smile that meant, the following morning, you were standing on the front step of your childhood home next to jamie, who was holding a potted plant.

"you know you didn't need to bring anything," you said after you rang the doorbell, jittery with nerves. how long had it been?

he only pinched you lightly in the side. "swear i won't drop it this time, petal," he said with the easy tone that calmed your nerves, if only slightly.

and then the door was opening, and you were ushered in among a flurry of hugs and exclamations of it having been to long.

your older brother said you looked different, your mother said you needed to visit more often. you had the sinking feeling that coming home was a mistake.

then came the inevitable. "and who's this handsome young man?" your mother asked in a sugary sweet tone that made the room smell like the dentist's office, at least to you. "is this that friend from work you told me about a while ago?"

you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, slightly confused, maybe disappointed? other people's parents assumed they were dating any person they spoke to, which you were sure was its own beast, but you had actually brought someone to a family meal and your mom thought he was your coworker?

"uh," you started, struggling to find your footing. "this is jamie."

you wanted to put your forehead through the tastefully muted wallpaper of the mudroom, but jamie only shook your father's hand, endured awkward hugs from your mother and siblings, handed over his plant with practiced grace.

you felt your hands tremble ever so slightly, willed them to still, begged any courage and confidence to show itself, but your chest was tight, like your lungs were filling up with polluted water.

jamie caught your eye, registered your defensive stance, gave you a look full of softness and acceptance before stepping to your side and pulling you in for a gentle side-hug, his embrace strong and sure in all the ways you were not. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, lips you still felt the memory of on your mouth, lips that sent a shiver of stability down your spine. "much better than last time, eh, petal?" he said, looking down at you, still tucked into his side. "no dirt under your nails, this time."

you couldn't help but give a slight shake of your head, squeezed him tighter in a way you hoped said thank you.

when you looked back up to your family, there was an almost comical look of surprise in your mother's eyes, a look of extreme boredom in your siblings'.

you father cleared his throat. "brunch's ready," he said, urging your mother to lead you all to the dining room.

jamie pulled out your chair for you, leaned forward to your ear when you sat down. "look so pretty today," he whispered, his voice a low rasp, only for you, only to help you settle, only because it was the truth.

"you know, jamie, she's never brought someone home before," your mother said at some point during the meal, like it was some kind of inside joke between the two of them, a joke you were not a part of. she shared some kind of look with him, but his face was blank. "honestly, we were starting to get worried." your father and her gave light laughs, laughs that made your stomach roll with anxiety, shame.

good god, couldn't they give you a break? you pushed your food around your plate, very much not hungry, very much wanting to leave.

jamie didn't laugh, though, didn't indulge them, didn't pretend like he was in on their joke. "worried about what?" he asked, his expression and tone entirely plain and curious, waiting patiently for elaboration that never came. his question was met with flickering glances between your parents, nervous laughter dying in their mouths.

you looked down at your plate again, bit your lip to hide your smile, reached under the table to squeeze his hand. he squeezed yours right back.

the rest of the meal was fine. soon enough, you were saying your goodbyes, doling out your own awkward hugs along with vague assurances that you would be back soon.

"and it was so wonderful to meet you, jamie," your mother said, a hand on his forearm, "know you're welcome here anytime."

you pushed aside the spark of jealousy within you. what would it be like to know that for yourself? to feel welcome in this home, whenever you wanted?

jamie just looked at you with that molten softness in his dark eyes. you pushed his hair from his face, the way you had grown accustomed to doing, more a comfort to you at this point. he leaned into your touch, however slightly.

"thank you for having me," he said, politely, before looking at you once more. "'m honored to be the first person petal's felt comfortable enough to bring home."

you could have melted at how genuine he sounded, at the idea that he was honored to be around you, of all things, at all.

when you were both in the car, you turned to him. "you didn't have to say that, you know," you told him as he pulled the car out of the driveway, started the trek home.

he just kept one hand on the wheel, took yours with the other. "wanted to," he said, glancing over at you with a steadiness that was impossible to deny. "meant it."

a smile came easily to your face, a flush came easier. he lifted your hand to his mouth, lightly pressed his lips to the top of it, making you shift in your seat with poorly hidden delight, perfectly warm all over.

you arrived back home, and fell back into your routine.

jamie dropped you off at work the following day, rolling his window down when you got out the passenger door. "petal!" he called.

you turned, that grin that seemed to be every-present around him on your face. "yeah?"

the faintest of blushes began to prick at his cheeks. "can i have a kiss, please?"

you were all too willing to comply, leaning against the side of the car and pulling his lips to yours with a gentle hand on his jaw. "see you later?" you murmured against his mouth, butterflies so alive in your stomach you half believed they would fly up your throat. he nodded, a little dazed, promised to see you after your shift, as he had the day off.

the lovely dizziness began to dull as soon as you entered the coffee shop, as there was a very unexpected guest behind the counter with your friend.

"have you never even heard of a latte?" your coworker seethed, the words hard and angry through her teeth.

"feel free to call this off at any time, sugar," a smug trevor drawled, wearing an apron and a haphazardly drawn name tag.

you set your things down and began to tie your own apron around yourself. "afternoon, lovely," you greeted your friend before looking at the newcomer. "trevor."

he nodded to you with a smile in a greeting of his own before the espresso machine started making a menacing sound.

you took the next customer's order, began to prepare it. "do i wanna know why you appear to be an employee today?"

"lost a bet," he said, looking at your coworker, who grimaced.

"we agreed that if he didn't block five shots against the hawks last week, he'd work a shift," she crossed her arms over her chest. "but already this is more of a punishment for me than for him."

he turned up his smile to the megawatts.

you shook your head with a laugh. "you know this is breaking, like, a billion laws," you said, pouring soy milk into a cup. "we can't just hire randoms to work a single shift."

trevor placed a fake-offended hand over his heart. "i'm not some random," he clarified.

"according to california law, you are," you said, matter-of-factly, finishing off the drink and placing it on the pickup counter.

"oh, whatever, 11, just go," your coworker said, exasperated, "you've already messed up like twelve times in the last two hours."

he pouted, teasing like a kindergarten bully, all grown up. "you wound me, sugar," he said, turning around slowly. "untie my apron for me?"

she took off her bucket hat and whacked him with it. "don't think i've forgiven you, either," she said, pointing a warning finger at him.

"wouldn't dream of it," he cooed, taking out him phone. "haven't i earned a drink for my troubles? jimmy won't be here for another five minutes."

you scrunched up your brow. "jamie?" you groaned for him, "wish you'd called it quits like two minutes earlier. he was just here."

both your coworker and trevor whipped their heads around. "jim dropped you off?"

you nodded. your coworker gave you an impressed grin, held her hand down low for trevor to slap in a high-five. "let's go," she said, pumping her fist.

you rolled your eyes at the two of them. "so the goon squad is working together, now?" you asked.

trevor rested his elbow on the top of your friend's head, making her hiss and bat his arm away. "best team around," he said, smugly, before looking at his phone. "time to go," he stated, accepting the two drinks you pushed into his hands with a thank you. "until next time, sugar," he said, looking at your friend.

"the red line won't hurt you unless you let it," she called out behind him.

you immediately started peppering her with questions about her bet with jamie's teammate, trying to get her to admit she didn't hate him as much as she let on.

"jamie says he just thinks you're hot and doesn't know what to do about it," you told her before she went out back for her break.

she fixed you with a look. "you can tell jamie that his friend better find out what to do about it." you laughed as the door shut behind her.

the rest of your shift went by terribly slowly. it wasn't that busy, and, honestly, you really missed jamie. you had only just found out what his lips felt like on your own, after all, and now you were having a hard time thinking about anything else. no one should feel this overheated, this distracted, while trying to steep peppermint tea and froth oat milk.

too many times, you lost yourself in daydreams about what his thighs felt like underneath you, how his fingers would feel like in your mouth, what his hand would feel like, gripping your hair.

you just wanted to be close to him, as close to him as possible.

by the time your coworker was dropping you off at your apartment, your mouth was practically dry with want, and if someone were to call you desperate, you weren't sure if you would have it in you to care.

you locked the door behind you, the silence in the kitchen and mudroom telling you he was probably in his own room, probably gaming.

you could have whined, thinking you would have to wait until he was done until you could kiss him, touch him, feel him how you wanted to.

you lasted pretty much as long as it took you to change into more comfortable clothes. undeniable want had you rapping your knuckles lightly against his door, exhaling gratefully when a soft come in wafted through the air.

and then the door was open, and he was there, exactly as you had thought him to be. his headset pushed his messy hair up in different directions, his knees spread wide, his posture relaxed.

he made eye contact with you, something warm shining in his gaze as he pushed his mic away from his mouth. "hey, petal," he rasped, his voice weary with use. "you're home."

you nodded, bit your lip, twisted the sole of your foot into the ground slowly. "know you're busy," you said, soft, almost bashful, "but can i just sit with you?" you swallowed down any shakiness. "couldn't stop thinking 'bout you at work."

you knew he wouldn't laugh at you, but were splendidly pleased anyways when he simply nodded, let that smile slant across his face, opened up his arms in invitation, contentment obvious in his expression.

you breathed out and crossed the room to where he sat, lowered yourself onto his lap as he spread his legs apart wider to make you more comfortable. you crossed your legs over his thigh, leaned back into his chest, let the warmth and feeling of him envelop you like a fog. his arms came to reach around you as he kept playing, fiddling with his controller. you could have fallen asleep here, if you weren't so alert, if every inch of your body didn't feel like it was slowly catching flame.

you hummed, shifted your hips back against him, making him let out a soft grunt. "getting comfortable?" he whispered, to which you nodded, smiled, leaned your head against his chest.

you tried to stay still, watch the screen as he played, but something about feeling his breaths against your back, the heat of him pooling in your neck, the firmness of him underneath you, it made you restless, impatient.

so much so that after maybe a few minutes, you were craning your head up to press your lips lightly to his jaw, his throat, just behind his ear, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

he let out a groan, low and dangerous. "thought you just wanted to sit," he said, his mouth quirking up, a tightness to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"changed my mind," you mumbled into his shoulder, grazing your teeth over his deltoid.

"be patient, petal," he rumbled, "wait 'til 'm finished, hm?"

you pouted against his jaw, figured you had done months of waiting, if you counted back to that first day. more than your fair share. you were done being patient.

so, instead of waiting, like he had asked you to, you wordlessly pushed yourself from his chest, sank down to your knees into front of his chair, gently placed your palms on his thighs, forcing his attention to you.

his gaze settled on you like heavy sediment, scorching, bubbling. when he spoke, you felt it against your face like a caress. "fuck, petal, dreamt of you like this."

your smile was slight, sly. "what? on my knees for you, jamie?"

he gave an almost pained shake of his head, made some strained sound of refutation. he set his controller down and pulled off his headset, tossed it aside as you tugged at his sweatpants, rolled your hand over him, hard and hot.

he tilted his head back, groaned. "dreamt of you lookin' at me like this," he confessed, words thick with revelation, "like you want me."

something almost religious passed between you, because what was this, if not something worth worshipping? something built on devotion beyond logic, beyond better judgement?

"i do want you, jamie," you said, finality swimming in your heated tone, "i want you so, so bad."

you bit your lip to hide your grin when he whimpered at your words, his eyes screwing shut as you took him in your hand, spit onto his cock, pumped him up and down before running your tongue along the length of him, drinking in his sounds greedily.

he rooted his thick hand in your hair, draping it away from your face as you sunk your mouth down onto him. "fuck," he choked out, slow and strained, "fuck, petal, you can have me."

you moaned around him, grounded by his grip, the pleasant tug on your scalp, urged him to the back of your throat until your eyes began to water, until his thighs began to tense, before retreating again, peering up at him, eager to take every inch of him in, like this.

so unguarded and uncontrolled, knowing he was thinking only of you, pure want dripping down his frame and face like watercolor, this image of him made you acutely aware of just how wet you already were.

you tugged your hand up and down him again, grinned when he shuddered. "taste so good, jamie," you rasped, running your thumb along the tip, "'ve wanted your cock in my mouth for so long, baby."

his chest rose and fell as he moaned, desperate, overwhelmed. his thumb circled your jaw as you continued moving your hand, spitting onto him again. "should've told me, petal," he whined, "would've given you anything you wanted." his voice shook, you felt his muscles tense again as you took him in your mouth again. "waited so good for me, hm?"

you hummed, held him in your mouth, hollowed out your cheeks until tears broke your waterline, his grunts telling you he was close as you let your nails dig into the tops of his thighs.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he breathed, "feel so good like this, petal, too good, can't hold on." his grip in your hair tightened, his hips bucking up, hitting a deeper spot in your throat. he made to pull back, but you only moved your head with him, swallowing around him until you tasted him on your tongue, his moan resounding in your head like an organ in a cathedral.

only after he finished did you pull your mouth up off of him, tilted your head onto your elbow, which was resting on his thigh, red with marks from your clutching hands. you watched him come down from his high, watched his lashes flutter as his eyes opened, felt his grip loosen in your hair and his hand come down to rest under your chin, as gentle and affectionate a touch as you had ever felt.

he led your mouth to his, lifting you off of your knees, slanting his lips across yours like a smile before pulling away, looking at you for a moment, tracing your mouth with his thumb. "look so pretty like this, petal," he praised, low and steady, "so fuckin' perfect."

and you blushed, because you knew how you looked.

you knew that your face was flushed with exertion, knew that spit ran down onto your chin, knew that your lashes were clumped together with tears, knew that your lips with swollen and your neck shone with sweat.

he kissed the corner of your mouth anyways, looked at you like there had never been anything more beautiful. "let me taste you, hm?" he murmured against your skin.

you shivered with pleasure at his words, but whined. "need you so bad, jamie," you pleaded, "need you inside of me." you peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"

he shifted until you hovered above him, tugged your shorts aside, ran his fingers through your folds and cursed at how wet he found you. "anything you want, petal," he rasped, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking you off of them. "fuck, pretty girl, askin' me so nicely, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, reached under you to find him impossibly hard, again, before angling him to you and sinking down onto him, your knees on either side of his hips.

his head fell back at that first feeling, your mouth dropping open as your body pulled taut at the stretch. you whimpered when he reached behind you to pull you to his chest, changing the angle, while he shifted under you, both of you breathing heavy, searching for something to stop you from floating away.

you settled on letting your heavy head drop to his neck, letting shaky exhales escape past your teeth, melt into his collarbone like snowflakes on windowpanes.

he clutched at your waist, began to slowly move his hips, lifting you up and down in a rhythm that burned behind your eyes, that you felt on your tongue, in your toes.

"how do you feel like this?" he whispered, practically to himself, as if in a dream, as he kept up his pace, slow and brutal.

"like what, baby?" you breathed, picking your head up and beginning to fuck back onto him with more force, wanting to feel him harder, deeper.

"fuck," he whimpered, searching for an answer, his messy hair falling into his face, sticking to the gloss of sweat shining on his brow, "better than i imagined, petal. so perfect, made for me."

you moaned at his admission, reached around his neck for support. "been thinkin' 'bout me, jamie?" you asked, an almost cocky grin peeking through.

"so much," he whined, picking up his pace now, causing you to choke down a strangled moan, "fuck, petal, was worried you'd hear me through the walls."

his confession shot right to your core as you clenched around him, imagining him trying to keep quiet, touching himself, thinking of you. you dug your nails into the back of his neck as he laid a hand across your stomach, pressed down until he could feel the outline of himself inside of you, moving in and out.

the sensation was so intense that you had to shut your eyes, the pressure inside of you pulling so tightly you bit your tongue.

"like that, hm?" he said, only the faintest trace of smugness in his tone. "like that i thought of you with my hand around my cock, petal?"

you nodded, moaned your affirmation, felt yourself grow so deliciously close.

"thought of you, just like this," he breathed into your neck, still pushing at your stomach, hitting somewhere impossibly deep inside you, hard and fast. "squeezing me so perfect, making those pretty sounds for me."

"'m so close, jamie," you pleaded, your voice wrecked, your jaw aching, "please make me cum? need you so bad, been needin' you for so long."

his neck tensed under your palm as his thrusts grew sporadic, his breathing labored. "fuck, petal, cum on my cock, yeah?" his other hand gripped your hip so hard you knew it would leave a mark. "been such a good girl for me."

you came apart at his words, collapsing onto his chest, clenching down on him so completely that he reached another high, warm and absolute. he stilled, both of your chests rising and falling against each other. you ran your fingers soothingly over the back of his neck, he rubbed circles into the sides of your hips as if in a daze.

finally, when the fog cleared like falling rain, you pulled back to look at his face, flushed, long lashes framing heavy lids, his gaze thick and syrupy with affection.

you lightly swept the damp hair from his forehead, pressed a gentle kiss to his brow that made him smile up at you lazily.

he ran his thumb along your cheekbone. "wanna stay in my room, tonight?" he asked, cheekily, like you were kids planning a sleepover, scheming up the best way to ask your parents.

so you just nodded and laughed, and he kissed the laugh from your lips as if it tasted of sugar.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #nhl smut #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale smut #anaheim ducks #quinn hughes smut #jamie drysdale x y/n #new jersey devils #luke hughes smut

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holy-puckslibrary · 3 months

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━ 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader (est. relationship) wc — 1.5k synopsis — jamie can’t keep his hands to himself, and neither can his girlfriend. (prompted on this ask)

note — title’s from summertime by bon jovi + yes, this is a re-upload from the main blog (@holy-pucks) since nothing of mine posted there shows up in the tags. if you’ve already liked or shared that post, i would really appreciate you doing the same with this new one :) thx a million in advance! xx

specific content warnings listed below the cut.

cw — alcohol consumption/tipsy!reader x tipsy!jamie, accidental exhibitionism (jamie getting handsy at a bonfire bc he just can't resist lol), suggestive lang + innuendo, + general fluffy filth but nothing super explicit really, pretty tame for me tbh

jamie drysdale has never been so pleased to have lost a fight in his entire life.

he didn't think it'd get cold enough to warrant lugging around an extra blanket (meaning him, not you—he's a gentleman). you thought otherwise, and pestered him until there was one neatly folded in the backseat.

objectively speaking, jamie was right; it wasn't even chilly. he was actually a little warm, if he was being honest, but that had a lot more to do with his wandering, beer-soaked mind than the weather or a superfluous layer.

—and he had a tent in his pants to prove it.

it's his own fault. he pulled you into his lap when there were more than enough lawn chairs scattered around the blazing fire, knowing full-well you fidget when you're tipsy. jamie knows you can't sit still to save your life, yet he sat you across his thighs anyway. and now he—and his raging hard-on—are paying the price.

he isn't embarrassed he's turned on, that's not the problem. that's never the problem. you've been dating for years, and anyone who's shocked by the effect you have on him has bigger problems than jamie's attraction to his own girlfriend.

it's the fact that he's about ten seconds away from pulling your suit to the side and rutting into you in the middle of a public beach with his friends not even a foot away.

someone across the half-moon crowd says something that makes you laugh—makes you wiggle. jamie's hands tighten on your hips to keep you still, but, by this point in the night, his body is too lax to be of much help. if anything, the impassioned touch eggs you on, and it isn't long before his hips are moving to match your mostly-involuntary movements.

jamie hisses through gritted teeth, jaw clenched so tight it aches. "baby, quit it—please."

fluttering half-lidded eyes meet his, clock his internal struggle, and immediately twinkle with mischief. under the guise of shifting your attention, you rub the outside of your thigh against the bulge threatening to tear his trunks.

"quit what?" you ask with a demure smile, your hands looping themselves around his neck. warm fingertips play with the feathered locks tickling his sunburnt neck, making him shiver.

"you know what," he glares. "i don't know when we'll get back home, and you're driving me insane."

"touch me here."

blinking in disbelief, he balks. "w-what?"

"touch. me. here."

each word is punctuated with a chaste peck to his ever-reddening cheek. the succinct affection bounces you in his lap, and jamie can't help but slide his hands further beneath the sandy blanket. at first, to halt the infuriating friction but, like usual, once his hands wander he just can't stop. consequences—and shyness—be damned.

"s'not a good idea." jamie nips your jaw, dotting a line of warm kisses along your neck, stopping once his nose brushes your ear. "my baby's loud as shit, and i'd rather not have an audience."

you swat his chest in offense, but giggle nonetheless. "am not!"

"are too." he smiles up at you.

"i can be quiet," you huff, determination furrowing your brow.

jamie reaches up to smooth the crease with his thumb. you catch his arm and press a sweet peck to the inside of his wrist. he shudders.

you hum into his skin, "i think you're projecting."

"that right?" your boyfriend feigns ignorance, amused.

"let me prove it," you whisper before leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. with your forehead flush to his, you try again. "please, jamie. i can't wait anymore—and i certainly can't wait until t strikes out with whoever he's obsessed with this week."

jamie snorts.

you make a solid point; it could be another ten minutes or upwards of two hours. his guess was as good as any—trevor himself included. jamie's really starting to hate that him finally fucking his own girlfriend hinges on his best friend's ability—or inability—to seal the deal.

"you make even a peep, and i stop. got it?"

what's the worst that could happen if he indulges you a bit? no one's even paying attention to either of you, anyway.

you nod, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. jamie tugs it free, fingertip dancing over the fresh indentations. your tongue slips out to tease his sun-soaked skin, and it isn't long before the digit is flush to your hot tongue.

jamie's eyes are almost black with lust as they watch your lips welcome and release his finger over and over again. your eyelids fall as he slips into a trance, mesmerized by your mouth.

"words, baby. gimme words," he prods, the words barely audible.

you surrender his hand with a faint pop, blinking down at him like you're already teetering on the precipice. "no sounds or you stop—i got it," you parrot. "now are you going to touch me?"

"needy, needy, baby," jamie teases after stealing a kiss. "i've spoiled you rotten, haven't i? can't even go a couple hours without begging me to touch you... s'alright, i can barely keep my hands of you. 'specially when i've got you sittin' all pretty in my lap like this."

"—jamie, please, just... just touch me already—need t'feel you."

chuckling to himself, jamie mercifully pushes the sodden material out of the way. he nearly moans at what he finds.

how much of it is from the evening dip you took with a couple of the other girlfriends, it's hard to tell, but he'd put good money on it being little to none. no, the damp patch growing in his lap is all you. sweet and warm, and perfectly you.

you gasp when he collects some of the escaped arousal with a few of his fingers. jamie raises a brow in your direction and you cover your mouth apologetically. he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. you're trying so hard to keep quiet, it's adorable.

"—haven't even done anything and you're already breaking your promise," he chides. "how am i supposed to give you what you want when you're already misbehaving?"

"the other one," you breathe. confused, jamie hesitates. "give me your other hand."

you fish his free hand out from between your bodies and bring it up to your mouth. his eyes bulge out of their sockets once your intentions become obvious; you mean to silence yourself by sucking on his middle and marriage as he fucks you with the other hand. your back is mostly to the group, but he's still paranoid as all hell.

yet, jamie can't bring himself to deny you—or himself.

"you're gonna be the death of me," he groans as your head dips.

too turned on to care, jamie relents and slips a gentle finger into you. your eyes pinch shut, teeth catching on his other hand, but no sound leaves you. as a reward for your good behavior, he sinks in even further, until he's knuckle-deep at both ends.

his movements are much slower than normal, but, somehow, it doesn't matter. jamie's thumb seeks out your clit, sensitive and swollen despite its neglect, and he traces lazy circles between deep, measured thrusts. all the while, he mouths at your neck with little concern for what evidence he might leave behind. jamie's sole focus is making you feel as good as he does right now with his half-naked, hot-as-hell girlfriend writhing in his lap, her pretty pussy clenching around his lucky fingers.

"—j-jamie," you warble around his drenched hand, hips bucking into the other with what little leverage you have positioned like this. "—close, s'close."

oh, he knows. he can tell. jamie knows your body better than you do; he's a diligent student.

"are you, baby?" jamie can't resist a bit of taunting. you're too far gone to push back. "poor thing, what do you need from me? tell me what you need to get there."

you're slow to answer, overwhelmed by the sensations attacking your mind from all angles. somewhere along the line, a second finger was added... and then a third. the burning stretch aches so good your vision blurs.

jamie, jamie, jamie—the beginning, middle, and end of your thoughts—jamie, through and though. he's everywhere, but it's still not enough.

"my n-neck," you eventually gasp. "please—kiss my neck again."

your boyfriend is more than happy to oblige. lips latched to the tender spot just below your ear, jamie lets his hand take control of the pace; he's no longer content to drag this out. it's been a long day, and all he wants is to watch his pretty girlfriend fall to pieces in his lap.

your peak is ushered in by a series of pitiful little whines and whimpers, mostly muffled by his spit-stained hand, but jamie doesn't have the heart—or the sanity—to chastise you for it. if he had it his way, his mind would play those beautiful, broken sounds on a loop.

but the reverie is too good to last. it always is.

"get a room, you two!"

a chorus of laughter and vulgar remarks succeed trevor's call-out. and, hot under the collar, jamie's cheeks burn pink as he buries his face in the safety of your neck.

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babydollmarauders · 4 months

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OH CHRISTMAS TREE — JAMIE DRYSDALE

jamie drysdale x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n is decorating the christmas tree with her best friend and comes to terms with some deeper feelings

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, fingering, p in v, praise, dirty talk, i think that’s all?. (3k words)

notes: welcome to day 3 of the 12 days of kinkmas! please enjoy some soft friends-to-lovers with JD!

p.s. i wrote this prior to us learning that Jamie and Trevor no longer live together, so let’s just pretend they still do for the sake of the fic

“do you think Trevor is gonna come home tonight?”

my best friend shakes his head at my question, handing me another ornament from the brand new package we bought at the store today.

“definitely not.” he chuckles, “when he goes over to her house for a hang out, he never comes back until the next day.”

Jamie uses air quotations around the words ‘hang out’, which makes me cringe, squeezing my eyes shut as though it’ll help clear my thoughts of Trevor having sex.

“oh, i did not need to imagine that.” he cackles when he sees my horrified expression, nearly doubling over in laughter.

my hand finds its way to his shoulder, slapping against his hoodie covered body.

“you asked!” he shrugs, “i didn’t think you’d picture it!”

“my mind wanders!” i defend myself, elbowing him in the arm as he stands completely upright again. “just gimme the last ornament.”

he finally sobers up, handing me the final ornament and allowing me to hang it on the tree before we step back to survey it.

“we still need to do the topper.” he concludes and i nod, stepping over to the plastic bags on the coffee table.

i rummage through them, my hunt ending when i finally spot the sparkly tree topper. walking over, i strain onto my tiptoes, flexing my arm as far as i can reach to try and place the decoration, but i still come up short.

“let me help.” Jamie gruffs, and i drop back down onto flat feet, expecting him to place the topper himself.

but instead, he stands behind me, his hands coming up to grip my jean clad hips, and lifts me up. taking me by surprise, i quickly place the topper on the christmas tree.

“is it straight?” i ask, peering down in await of his approval, just in time to watch him drag his eyes away from my ass.

was he checking me out?

“yeah, looks good.” i have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh, my mind immediately drifting, wondering if he was talking about the tree or my butt.

he slowly lowers me, my body sliding through his loosened grasp, and as my feet begin to reach the floor, his hands slip up the hem of my sweater. his chilled touch against the heated skin of my abdomen sending goosebumps along my body, butterflies erupting in my stomach.

Jamie tenses, his hands lingering even after my feet are flat against the hardwood, and a light shiver wracks my body.

i like it.

i mean, i know i’ve always tiptoed the line between platonic and romantic feelings with Jamie. even when we first met, i had hoped we would be something more. but then we became best friends, and i never thought there was any chance of us becoming anything else. so i locked those feelings away, living in quiet delusion that they never existed. but now i’m forced to face them again; forced to come to terms with the fact that they’re still there, and i still want more with him.

i turn my head, glancing over my shoulder and locking eyes with my best friend. and suddenly, it’s like i can see into his mind, reading him like an open book.

he likes it too.

i blink and all too quickly, Jamie is dropping his hands, stepping back hurriedly.

“sorry.” he mutters, casting me a small yet forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

i turn to face him, fighting the urge to pull him back to me.

“there’s no need to apologize.” i can only hope that i’m accurately conveying my underlying feelings. that he understands that i mean my words and also that they hold a deeper meaning than just dismissing his apology.

“there’s not?” his eyebrow raises, his hand flexing in front of him as though in a mental battle with himself; whether or not he should touch me again.

my head shakes slowly and i step closer, gazing up through my lashes to meet his eyes. my hand wraps around his wrist, scanning his face to gauge his reactions and emotions as i guide his touch back underneath my sweater and onto my waist.

his fingertips lightly skim my flesh, his sight cautiously flickering between my eyes and my lips. he must find what he’s searching for, because within a moment, his palm is pressed flat to my body, his fingers curling around my waist as he draws me even closer to him. our bodies are mere inches away from each other now, toeing the line between friendly and loving.

“do you…?” he trails off but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand his meaning. i hum in agreement.

“do you…?” i repeat, my vocal inflection rising as i trail off; a question of my own, not ready to make the final jump unless i know for sure.

Jamie groans, finally pulling me flush against him, “god, yes.”

my best friend wastes no time in crashing his lips upon mine, his free hand tangling in my hair to tilt my head back.

a quiet moan travels up my throat, blocked by our locked lips which leave no choice but to vibrate against them.

he pulls away just slightly and i instinctively chase after him for a second.

“how long have you felt this way?” he whispers against me, simultaneously walking backwards, pulling me with him until my knees are resting on either side of him on the couch.

“since we met.” my confession is breathy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on mine again. “i thought i would get over it- that you didn’t see me like that.”

“fuck, i saw you like that.” he sounds pained, his grip tightening on my hips to keep me in place as i attempt to roll them against his. “of course i saw you like that.

“you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind. fuck, how could i not see you as more when you’re literally my dream girl? i never wanted to be just friends with you.”

i whimper at his words as he connects his mouth to my neck, pressing a trail of open mouthed kisses from my collarbone to my jawline.

“the amount of time we’ve wasted-” i’m cut off as he rolls his hips up to meet mine, a broken moan drawn from my lips at the feeling.

“shhh, don’t think about that.” he mutters against my skin, “we know now.”

his grip on my hips loosens as he guides them down to meet his. his lips finally meet mine again, suckling on my bottom lip as i sigh in pleasure.

“bed.” i huff as he pulls away. “let’s go to your bed.”

his arms encircle my waist, holding me to him as he rises to his feet, allowing me to lock my legs around him.

he’s efficient in making his way to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us and dropping me onto his mattress.

“are you sure?” his blue eyes gaze into mine; swimming with concern.

i nod frantically, my fingers coiling through his belt loops to tug him back to me, “absolutely.”

he whines lowly, cupping my face gingerly with his hands.

“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this.”

he bends forward to kiss my lips, kneeling down on the bed between my spread legs.

the kiss quickly develops back into something lustful and intense, my hands shaking with pent up desire as they clutch at the hem of his shirt. i play with it, subtly letting him know that i want it off, but he just chuckles against my lips.

“use your words, pretty girl.”

i mewl at his remark and the way his swollen lips brush against mine.

“off, please.” i whisper through panted breaths. “i don’t want anything between us.”

he backs away, maintaining eye contact as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, drawing the t-shirt underneath with it. i bite at the inside of my bottom lip, taking the chance to memorize every detail of his torso.

every freckle, every curve, every hair or birthmark being lasered into my brain.

he’s so perfect.

his nimble fingers drop to the button of his jeans, unfastening them and pulling them down until he’s left in nothing but his boxer briefs. his half-hardened cock bulges through his boxers, and the sight has me grinding down into the mattress.

he’s gonna ruin me.

“your turn, sweetheart.” he gives me barely any chance to do the work myself, his hands pulling my sweater over my head.

i push my staticky hair over my shoulder, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull my jeans off of my legs.

i’m sat clad in a black bra and mismatch panties, but under his gaze, i find no reason to be embarrassed that i’m not wearing something sexier.

“beautiful.” he murmurs, as though not telling me, but acknowledging it to himself.

i scoot further up the mattress, allowing him the space to crawl to me. his hands and knees sink into the soft surface as he comes to hover above me, capturing my lips with his.

one hand steadies himself as the other explores my body, grazing over my breasts as it runs down my chest. my body shudders in response and i can feel him smirk into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over the padding that covers my peaked nipples.

i yearn to feel his skin against mine, the heat of our bodies mingling; pushing me to arch my back as i slide my hands underneath to unclasp my bra.

he draws back as i slide the straps down my arms before flinging the garment onto the floor.

my nipples pebble against the frigid air, goosebumps littering my body, and i breathe heavily under Jamie’s stare, mentally urging him to do something.

“you’re fucking perfect.” he growls, dipping down to latch onto my breast. his lips close around the stiffened bud, his warm tongue circling as he sucks, and a cry of pleasure echoes off the walls as my head tips back, burrowing further into the pillow behind me.

“Jamie.” my back arches toward him, desperate underneath his touch.

he pulls away with a wet pop, kissing across my sternum and over to the other side while his fingers come to pinch and pull at the nipple he just abandoned.

“i need you.” i breathe out, voice cracking as my hands bury into his hair, pulling him back up to look at me.

“yeah?” he teases. his touch slides down my abdomen until he reaches to waistband of my panties, and as soon as i nod in permission, his fingers are slipping past the elastic band; dipping low into my wetness.

my eyes roll back as he glides his middle finger through my folds, using my slick as lubricant to circle my swollen clit.

“so wet for me.” he groans, his face burying in my neck as his lip find their place against my throat once more. “i could slide into you right now, don’t even need any foreplay.”

i moan, my hips rolling against him as he slips one finger into me, his thumb replacing to continue the contact against my clit.

“but i’m still gonna make you come on my fingers.” he states, curling the finger inside me to push against the spongey spot that makes my toes curl. “then i’m gonna make you scream on my cock. gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

he slips a seconds finger into me, providing me with the familiar pleasurable stretch as the ever growing knot in my stomach tightens further and further.

“Jamie, i’m gonna-” i can’t even finish my sentence, my jaw dropping slack as he finds the sweet spot just behind my ear.

“you gonna make a mess on my fingers?” my abdomen tightens as i clench around his fingers, my eyes squeezing shut as i whimper his name. “taking ‘em so well, like such a good girl.”

and just like that, the knot snaps, his fingers continuing their pace as he rides out my orgasm.

he pulls his head back, watching as my face scrunches in satisfaction, my breath catching in my throat as my hips stutter.

“so pretty when you come for me.” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of my panties as i come down from my high.

my eyes flutter open, my blurry vision focusing as i watch him lick his fingers clean of my release.

my hands fly down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging recklessly.

“please.” i cry and he smiles sultrily, knocking my hands away in order to replace them with his own.

he pushes his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and the bed. his erection presses between us, his tip red and glistening with precum.

his fingers hook into the sides of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them to the side.

“i need you.” i purr, my hand wrapping around his base and causing a shiver to wrack his body.

he moans, leaning over to rummage in his bedside table as i slowly pump his length. the foil packet in his hand is ripped open with his teeth before he shoves my hand away, rolling the condom down his shaft.

my legs spread even wider as he positions himself between them, sliding his cock through my wetness.

my body convulses slightly as his tip drags across my sensitive clit; and at my reaction, he smirks, repeating his actions and making me whimper.

“please,” i beg, “don’t tease me.”

he enters me with shallow strokes, taking his time to make sure i’m throughly stretched out and ready for him.

my legs clamp around his waist, my hips rolling up to meet his thrusts.

“so tight,” he sighs, his head tipping back as i bite my lip to hold in my sounds. “like you were made for me.”

as soon as he’s completely inside me, he pulls almost entirely out before pumping back in, his hand sprawling across my lower stomach to apply a light pressure.

“Jamie!” i squeak as his tip continues to hit against my g-spot with each thrust, my hands flying up to clutch at his back.

my nails dig into his skin, surely leaving crescent indentations in his pale skin.

“that’s right, pretty girl.” his voice is tight and strained, barely heard over the squelching sounds of his dick inside of my wet pussy. “scream my name.”

with each roll of his hips, his pelvis brushes against my puffy clit, my body shaking with pleasure as he fucks into me.

“feels so good.” i shudder out, craning my neck to pepper kisses against his shoulder and throat. “don’t stop.”

his pace quickens, and after my first release, my second is rapidly approaching, the pressure building in my stomach.

“fuck, i’m not gonna last.” he gruffs out, his hand slipping down from my stomach to my clit, rubbing in figure eights.

“i’m so close.” i tell him breathily, my toes curling as i clench around him.

“shit, shit, shit.” his hips stutter, his thrusts growing faster and sloppier as he chases his high.

“Jamie!” my back arches, holding my breath as my legs begin to shake around him, the pressure in my abdomen quickly releasing as i come around his cock.

my vision goes white behind my eyelids while he curses, spilling out into the condom as he continues to fuck me through our releases.

“you’re fucking perfect.” he grumbles, his weight dropping onto me as we both come down from our orgasms.

the room is silent besides the sound of our heavy breaths, and we lay there for a moment in quiet bliss.

“i love the way you whimper my name from your pretty little lips when you come.” he breaks the silence, rolling off of me.

a hiss leaves my lips as he slides out of me, sensitivity in overdrive after two orgasms.

“i love you.” i whisper, turning my head to gauge his reaction at my admission.

a warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparking with joy as he leans in to kiss me, “i love you too.”

unlike the last, this kiss is gentle and sweet, dripping with our aforementioned love, rather than lust.

“let’s clean you up.” he murmurs, rising from the bed.

he pulls his boxers back on, helping me into his t-shirt before he retreats from the room. when he reappears, he holds a wet washcloth.

kneeling between my spread legs, he swipes the washcloth through my folds, cleaning me of my own cum, and my hips buck up at the sensation against my overworked clit. he chuckles at my involuntary reaction, setting the washcloth in his hamper before helping me back into a clean pair of his boxers.

i stand to the side, my arms hugging my body as he changes his sheets, throwing the old ones in the washer and replacing them with fresh powder blue ones.

it’s only seven in the evening, but exhaustion plagues my body, forcing out a yawn, and he peers down at me with loving eyes.

“nap time?” he questions and i nod sleepily, humming in agreement.

he guides me back to the bed, tucking me in before he climbs into his side. his arm wraps around me, pulling me against him under the blanket, and a lazy smile gathers on my face as he cuddles into me.

he presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck before burying his nose into my hair, sighing in contentment.

the room is quiet, aiding me in my efforts to fall asleep; all the way up until i hear footsteps against the wooden floors outside the bedroom, my brows furrowing at the sound.

“is that…?” my question is quickly answered when the bedroom door flies open, revealing a hyper Trevor.

“yo, Jimbo, tree looks good!” the tanned boy grins, bouncing happily in the doorway before his sights lock on his best friend and i.

his eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ shape before he smirks, “FINALLY!”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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uluvjay · 6 months

Text

Plum- J. Drysdale

Jamie Drysdale x fem! Reader

In which the ducks anniversary jerseys are looking very good on your boyfriend.

Warnings?; SMUT, breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex(Wear protection!), pet names, cursing, kissing, those fucking plum jerseys, talks of starting a family, I can’t think of more

Part of my 1kcelly:)

You hadn’t been able to sit still since he left the house dressed in the plum colored Jersey. The way it complimented his pale skin and dark hair had his eyes appearing brighter and jaw sharper.

You had always found the jerseys appealing ever since he told you that was what the team would be going with for their 30th anniversary.

But what you weren’t expecting was just how good he looked in said jersey. When he walked out of your shared bedroom wearing the jersey over a hoodie and a pair of joggers for the Ducks community event, you had just about dropped to your knees for him right then and there.

"Baby I'm home" you heard his voice call from the entry way of your new home, finally getting somewhat rid of Trevor allowing some more privacy.

"Living room!" you shouted back, acknowledging the boy of your whereabouts.

Strutting in still clad in the plum jersey he leaned down to give you a kiss in greeting, "Hi baby" he smiled when you two separated.

“Hi” you muttered out before hastily pulling the boy back down to your lips.

Jamie groaned as he felt you attempting to deepen the kiss, your nails had slipped into his hair and tugged at his dark roots causing Him to open his mouth in a gasp, allowing your tongue to enter his mouth.

“Mm, baby. What’s all this for?” He asked as he pulled away for air.

“Missed you” you whined as he pulled back when you tried to bring him down again.

“Missed me? Baby we’ve been together al-“ the boy cut himself off as he finally took a full look at you. Your thighs were clenched, lip slightly pouted and red, and your eyes were darkening with blown out pupils.

“Ohh, I get it. You just want some attention huh baby? Tell me what got you all worked up” he teased as he sat next to you and pulled you onto his lap.

“S embarrassing” you mumbled, face buried in his neck.

“How so?” He laughed, his hands running up and down your thighs smirking at the shiver that ran down your spine.

Playing with the strings of his hoodie you finally admitted just what had gotten you so turned on, “The damn jersey was the first thing and then I kept seeing videos of you all over Twitter playing with kids and holding babies, and god do you look good with a baby in your arms. It was quite unfair really” you grumbled into his chest.

Jamie smirked at your words, the two of you had been talking about kids for a long time but you knew it wasn’t the right time. But that didn’t stop the two of you from fucking like bunnies every time one of your breeding kinks kicked in.

Jamie tangled a hand in your hair to pull you head away from his chest, causing a whine to escape your throat at the pain. “You just want me to fuck you full huh baby?” He mocked as he felt you grind against him.

You let out a pathetic whimper in response, hips rolling against his in attempt to settle the ache between your legs.

“Please Jamie..” you breathed

“Take your pants off for me” he spoke before lifting his own hips to pull down his pants and boxers.

His hard cock springing out from the restricting material he wrapped his hand around it and slowly jerked himself while he waited for you to take your place on his lap.

“Come here baby” he called a hand reaching for one of you own to pull you on top of him.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, one that had your breath hitching and yearning for more when he pulled away for air.

“Jamie..” you breathed but he cut you off with soft shushes as he angled you over his cock.

“It’s okay baby, just breathe for me-there you go, good girl” he worked you through the stretch of your cunt from his cock.

“Shit Jamie, you’re so big” you cried at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you.

A shiver ran down Jamie’s back as he slowly started to guide you up and down his cock by your hips, a slow and sweet pace.

He placed his head in your neck, lips sucking and nipping along your warm skin. He loved the way your body reacted to him, his cock coaxing whines from your throat while your manicured nails dug into the fabric of his plum jersey.

“Doing so good for me baby, such a good girl” he praised.

He loved fucking you slow but he couldn’t hold off much longer, he was getting close and he needed something more.

Pinning you against his chest with his arms locked behind your back, he positioned his feet against your coffee table before thrusting his hips into you at an unforgivable pace.

“Oh! Shi-Jamie” you mindlessly babbled at the new pace. His cock hit all the right places, his tip brushing right against your g-spot.

Your toes curled as you could feel the tightness forming in your lower stomach, cried becoming louder and louder.

“Shit I’m getting close baby” he groaned into your hair.

“Me to Jamie-fuck! Come for me please baby.” You encouraged the man beneath you, fingers slipping into his dark locks.

He brushed wet kisses along the skin of your bare shoulder before he sucked in a deep breath at the euphoric feeling washing over him.

“I’m coming” he shivered, spilling his seed deep inside your clenching core.

He could tell you were almost there by the way your walls were clenching around him tighter and tighter as he continued to thrust up into you, sharp breaths and whines coming from your throat.

“I’m coming Jamie!” You cried into his neck as you felt the shiver run down your spine and shaking of your thighs be unbearable.

You two sat like that for a moment, his hands running along your back while he placed loving kisses to the side of your head.

“I guess I should wear the plum jersey more often eh?” He teased.

“Shut up” you laughed placing a light slap to his arm.

#jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #anahiem ducks #anaheim ducks #jays1kcelly

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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

Text

[ wrapped in red ] j. drysdale

day five of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) surprises Jamie with his Christmas gift early when he gets back from a rough east coast roadie at four in the morning

warning(s) : smut ! oral (m receiving), p in v penetration, unprotected sex (pls be careful), whining, light hair pulling, use of pet names during sex

author’s note : this is me trying to catch up w the schedule lmaoo anyway … enjoy (even tho i definitely got a little carried away with it. i was having a moment and let the moment take over)

༺═──────────────═༻

The horn sounds through the TV, signaling the end of the game. The Ducks lost to the Devils at the Prudential Center 4-2, and it was Jamie’s first goal back after missing nearly 30 games. He probably isn’t feeling the best right now.

Yet she knows exactly what would make him feel better. She's sure he will appreciate his Christmas gift a little bit early. She's been excited to give it to him since she got it right after he left for the road trip that has kept him away for a week.

Now might be the perfect time since he might need to relax a little bit. She knows her boyfriend so she knows exactly how to help him relax after a rough roadie. She even tells him that she'll wait up for him to get home so she can surprise him.

ʚ jamie baby ɞ - 10:29 pm flight doesn't leave until midnight so you don't have to stay up for me. i won't home until 4. pls don't be up until 4 in the morning, baby. i'd feel so bad

i love you and i'll see you when you get up in the morning, okay ? i won't be good company when i get home and i don't want to ruin your mood

Her plan doesn't change from Jamie's texts. All it does is tell her that he really isn't in a good mood after the road trip. She can take a four hour nap and be fine by the time he gets home. She needs to be wide awake for when she gives him his gift.

The gift also needs a little prep so she'll sleep until three, drink a cup of coffee to wake her up, then get ready to give Jamie his gift.

She's pretty sure his mood will change real quick, especially since he's been gone for a week. They both are a little desperate at this point.

An alarm is set for three in the morning to give her an hour to do what she needs to do. She only needs an hour to prepare the gift. A cup of coffee, a shower, a shave, hair, makeup, and a small snack isn't going to take more than an hour.

For her nap, she wears one of Jamie's Ducks hoodies because they're insanely comfortable. She sends Jamie a text that says goodnight and for him to have a safe flight.

(Y/N) is shaking with excitement as she lies down in their shared bed for her four hour nap. The look on Jamie's face when he sees what he's getting for Christmas is the only thing that causes her to fall asleep.

The sooner she falls asleep, the sooner the alarm will go off and the sooner Jamie will be home.

She dreams of his reaction.

༺═──────────────═༻

A screaming alarm wakes her from her light sleep. It's still completely dark outside and there's a dim light coming from her phone while the alarm goes off. She turns it off and sits up with a stretch.

(Y/N) feels very refreshed though, and she definitely needed the little nap if she is to make it through the night. She allows herself a few more minutes before she goes and makes a cup of coffee.

While the coffee brews, she tracks Jamie's flight. They haven't landed early so she can still definitely pull off the surprise. The team plane is scheduled to land in a half hour. Then it's baggage claim and a fifteen to twenty minute drive to their apartment in Anaheim.

After coffee and a few pieces of toast with strawberries and Nutella, (Y/N) takes a shower. It's a full shower. She shampoos, conditions, shaves all necessary areas, washes her body, and exfoliates her face.

All while Taylor Swift is playing from the Bluetooth speaker on the sink counter.

(Y/N) loves listening to Miss Swift while she showers. Sometimes she listens to it while showering with Jamie, and he gets very into it. That's Trevor's doing though. Trevor is a bigger Swiftie than she is. Sometimes.

It's quarter to four when (Y/N) gets out of the shower. She checks to see where Jamie is and finds he's still at the airport. His location says he's outside though so he's probably headed to his car. She needs to hurry up if she's going to pull this surprise off.

She wraps herself in a towel and secures it under her arms so she can do her hair and light makeup. She blow dries it until it's pretty much straight then runs the straightener through it a couple of times to make sure there is no wave or curl to her hair.

She puts foundation under her eyes to hide the circles that have formed and all over her face to hide any blemishes. She puts on red lipstick and does a natural smokey eye look.

When she looks at Jamie's location, he's on his way home. There are about ten minutes until he's going to be walking through the door and she still has to go get the actual gift out of the closet. She curses to herself and makes her way back into their bedroom after disconnecting her phone from the speaker and turning off the light.

Inside a box in a closet is the gift. It's a red lingerie set that she tried on once when she was with Jamie. He said he really liked it so when he left for the trip, she went back to the store and bought it.

The sleepwear lingerie is made of lace and mesh. The cups of the nightgown part of the set is made of lace and is practically see through. Below the cups is completely see through. A matching mesh G-string will be worn underneath the sleepwear.

(Y/N) looks in the full length mirror against the wall and finds a hot, confident version of herself. Usually she doesn't dress like this, but it's Christmas so she figured it could be Jamie's gift since he liked seeing this set on her.

Somewhere in the apartment, a door softly opens and shuts with a nearly silent click. She makes a beeline for the bed and turns on the lamp beside the bed so Jamie gets a very good look at her when he opens the bedroom door.

There is a sigh and footsteps that are getting closer and louder. She tries to lay on the bed in a way that Jamie will get a good view of her as soon as the door opens. She has just decided on a position when the door slowly begins to open.

Jamie sticks his head into the room and looks right at the bed. His eyes immediately widen and the door swings completely open. His jaw has dropped to the floor and he nearly drops his bags on the ground.

"I- what-," he stammers. She smiles as he tries to find the words. "I don't understand what's going on here. (Y/N), I thought I said not to-"

"Wait up for you?" she finishes. "I didn't. I woke up at three so I could get ready to surprise my boyfriend since he hasn't been home in a week." She allows her eyes to travel up and down Jamie's body. He's tense but it's hard to miss how tight his pants have gotten at his crotch area. "Maybe put him in a better mood because he seemed very cranky after the game."

He shifts his weight between his legs before he drops his luggage by the door. "I am," he tells her. "I mean, I was. I don't think I am now." His eyes travel over her body. "Holy shit, baby."

She slowly gets up off the bed, making sure to show off every part of the set. Jamie's cheeks get red as he watches her walk up to him. She smiles when she is standing in front of him. "Merry Christmas," she says to him. "Decided to give you your present a little early. You said you liked this on me so I went and got it to wear for you on Christmas but then you had a rough road trip. Surprise."

Jamie's quiet, but she can see that he's trying to hold back. His hands are shaking, itching to touch her. "I don't know what to say," he tells her. "Fuck, (Y/N)."

"How about you don't say anything?" she suggests. Her fingers grasp at the collar of Jamie's game day suit jacket. Slowly, she pushes it off of him and he shivers despite wearing long sleeves under the jacket. "How about I help you relax? Let you enjoy seeing me in this while I suck you off. Promise you won't rip it?" He immediately begins to nod.

His eyes are on her fingers as she works on unbuttoning his shirt. She untucks it from his pants to finish unbuttoning it and her eyes meet his. "I wish I could come home to this after every roadie," Jamie softly admits. "I think I'd score a hat trick if I knew this was waiting for me at home."

(Y/N) undoes his belt without looking at what she's doing. It hits the ground with a soft thud. "I'll see what I can do," she replies. "Maybe if you get a hat trick then I'll be waiting for you like this when you get back." Slowly, she sinks to her knees. She is so thankful that the room has carpet. Her knees are definitely grateful. "I'll be waiting on my knees like this for you."

A soft whine passes Jamie's lips when she pulls his cock out of the confines of his suit pants. "Fuck," he groans as she takes him in one of her hands. She presses soft kisses to his hipbone, trailing closer to his dick.

She licks the bright red tip and swirls her tongue around it, collecting the drop of precome that has already formed. She looks up at him as she takes him in her mouth. Jamie sighs and puts his fingers in her hair to probably keep himself upright. She takes as much of him in her mouth as she can then begins to move her head.

Giving blowjobs has never been something she's been particularly good at, but Jamie has helped her improve her skills since they've gotten together. His reactions and the sounds that come from his mouth let her know if she's doing a good or bad job.

Even if she were to give the worst blowjob in the world right now, she is pretty sure that Jamie wouldn't care.

He's already barely here.

One thing she knows drives Jamie crazy is when she hollows out her cheeks and lightly sucks. She tries it once and Jamie's hips buck forward. (Y/N) knew that was going to happen so she relaxed her throat so he wouldn't choke her with his dick. Jamie lets out a soft groan that's mixed with a whine. Her hands fly to his thighs to let him know to relax.

"Keep doing that and I will come a lot sooner than we would both like, (Y/N)," he warns her. She looks up at him through her eyelashes and sees how flustered he is. His cheeks are bright red and his bottom lip looks like it's been gnawed on. "Fucking eyelashes. Fuck."

She smiles as best as she can around him.

Despite the carpet, her knees do begin to hurt. She glances up at him before pulling off his dick. There is a little bit of lipstick on his hipbone where she kissed him. She smiles and looks up at him.

Jamie slides one of his hands around to the back of her neck and puts his fingers in her hair. She stands up and Jamie drags her in for a filthy kiss. She hums against his lips and pushes the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. He lets the fabric fall to the floor around his feet.

"Love being on my knees for you," she mumbles between kisses. "I wanna ride you though."

A whine comes from Jamie's throat after her comment. She smiles and turns them so she can push Jamie onto the mattress.

The kiss breaks and he falls onto his back with a grunt when she pushes him in the direction of the mattress. She pulls off his shoes and socks before pulling his dress pants off. Jamie scoots backward further onto the bed as she pulls off his pants and boxers together.

Jamie's eyes are wide when she crawls on top of him. She straddles his waist and cock. Jamie's hands run up and down her thighs for a second as she leans down and kisses him. This kiss is hungry since she has gone a week without kissing him. She's missed the feeling of his lips against her. It drives her nuts every time he goes away for more than a few days.

There's a light pressure over the G-string that she's wearing under the sleepwear. A soft moan comes from her throat as Jamie's thumb circles her clit over the mesh.

He breaks the hot kiss and she rests her forehead against his. "As hot as this is," Jamie begins to say. "I need to be inside you so either take these off or move them to the side because I'm minutes away from coming and I don't want to make a mess of your new outfit."

(Y/N) quickly sheds the lingerie set until she's completely naked. A smile forms on Jamie's lips before he sits up and attaches his lips to her jaw. Her fingers are in his hair. When he hits the sensitive spot right under her ear, she lightly pulls. His thumb is back on her clit and she whines.

Needing relief, she grabs his dick and lines herself up with him. He looks up at her and she kisses him. It's a softer kiss than the kisses they've already shared tonight, but he licks into her mouth and it intensifies.

Slowly, she sinks down onto him. There's a familiar pressure as he fills her up. "Fuck, Jamie," she mumbles against his lips.

"Feels so good around me, baby," Jamie tells her. "Fuck."

It's only seconds later when he's completely inside of her. Jamie's hands find her waist and she bites at his bottom lip before pulling away.

Their eyes meet and Jamie begins to roll her hips against his. Her lips part and soft pants pass them. Her hands fly to his jaw and she holds on like it's life or death.

It feels so good to be like this. It's rare that Jamie lets her take control in bed but she loves it. Even now, he still has some control while she's riding him. His hands are on her waist and helping her move.

She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him back onto the bed. His head hits the pillows and she speeds up her movements. Rolling turns into bouncing on Jamie's dick.

The room is filled with the sounds of the bed squeaking beneath them and skin on skin. She's letting out quiet moans as she throws her head back and enjoys the feeling of Jamie moving in and out of her at her own pace. Jamie even lets out a soft noise or two.

"Riding me so good," Jamie tells her. "Riding me like the good girl you are. Fuck, baby."

His words alone are enough to make her come, but she holds back until he comes first. He's the one that needs to relax so she's focused on his pleasure first. She'll come when he comes.

Then his thumb is back on her clit and she isn't sure how much longer she can go.

"Want you to come first," she pants. "Jamie."

Jamie pulls her down into a kiss full of tongue and teeth.

She's so close. Her legs are shaking and sore from doing all the work. Her clit is so sensitive and she's worried she'll come.

"Fill me up," (Y/N) says against Jamie's lips. Even her voice is shaky. "Wanna feel you come inside me. Please."

A groan and a whine pass Jamie's lips as he finally lets go. He comes inside of her as soon as she comes back down on his cock. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to play with her clit and it's not long after that when she comes.

White paints her vision and she comes with Jamie's name on her lips. She throws her head back for a second before she collapses onto his chest.

She isn't sure that she's ever came that hard in her life. Her body is spent and her breathing is labored.

When she comes to, she's laying on the bed and the bathroom light is on. Jamie appears from the bathroom with a cloth and he begins to clean her up. She can feel his come running down her legs and it's a little uncomfortable until he wipes it away.

"That was the hottest thing I think I have ever experienced," Jamie admits to her. "I'm so fucking lucky."

"Now I have to get you a new Christmas present," she mumbles. Her voice is already slurred with sleep.

Jamie throws the cloth towards the laundry basket and climbs back into bed. He covers them both with the blanket that will need to be changed in the morning.

"I think that was the best Christmas present ever," he softly tells her. "You can worry your pretty little head about it in the morning. Right now, we're going to go to sleep and sleep in then I'm going to return what you did tonight by fucking you when you wake up."

Oh, she should be wrapped in red more often if this is how Jamie is going to react. Maybe next she can wear one of his Canada jerseys with nothing on underneath and see how he reacts to that.

༺═──────────────═༻

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turcott3 · 26 days

Note

pls write more Jamie!!!!!

ask and you shall receive!!!!

drinking game

jamie drysdale x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex (🙅🏻‍♀️), oral fem receiving, fluff

(this is an older draft that i edited, apologies for any mistakes🙏🏻)

masterlist

as the sun began to set on the warm city of anaheim, the alcohol began to come out from the shadows, courtesy of none other than.... you guessed it! trevor zegras. he planned this gathering weeks ago in preparation for the start of the regular season. which of course jamie was elected to host.

"alright bitches let's get this damn show on the road." he says holding two packs of smirnoff ices mason just behind him with a 24 pack of twisted teas and a 12 pack of michelob ultra.

"this is all you got?" jamie asks, walking into the room.

"we still have a bunch of of shit from the last few weeks jimbo we're fine." he scoffs placing everything on the counter. jamie's dark damp hair falls over his face as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch. he runs his fingers through his hair brushing it out of his face and joins everyone in the kitchen as you had already cracked open a few drinks. apparently a few sips was enough for you to find jamie's simple gestures insanely attractive.

"hey y/n, can you pass me a smirnoff?" jamie asks nodding to the pack of originals on the counter near me.

"yeah here." you say passing him one. he opens the bottle eagerly and downs it like water. apparently you were staring because you were snapped out of your thoughts when jamie said your name.

"i was staring wasn't i?" you ask, your cheeks burning red.

"yep, but i was gonna ask if you wanted to shot gun with me?" he asks holding up three twisted teas.

"oh yeah of course, why do you have three?" you ask.

"two for me because i'm trying to get sloshed." he smiles handing you one. you follow the pale canadian into the backyard anxiously.

"ok on my count." jamie says holding up his hand counting down on his fingers. once he hits 1 you crack open the cans and down the drink as quickly as possible. considering you don't drink too often, you were already pretty drunk.

"can you go grab us another ice?" jamie asks as he is about to down the second one.

"yeah of course." you say trying not to trip and face plant your way back into the house. you return with the drinks and he opens your bottle handing it to you before opening his.

"cheers m'lady" he smirks.

"cheers." he says as you both take a swig.

"hey guys, alex brought a drinking game kate made, wanna play?" mason asks sticking his head through the doorway.

"yeah we're coming." jamie says smiling and finishing his drink. you follow him back into the house and sit side by side around a large board on the living room floor. you sat and listened as kate and alex explained the rules, which were straight forward. roll the dice, move that many spaces and do what the square says. everyone picks a game piece and start. the first round was light only taking a few sips of drinks and a few shots of malibu. needless to say, you were incredibly drunk and probably obviously eye fucking jamie sitting right next to you.

"alright y/n you landed on dare. who do you want to give you the dare?" kate asks you.

"uhm.... trevor." you say not knowing what he was gonna say. he gives alex a smirk and then opens his mouth to speak, "i dare you, to kiss jamie for 30 seconds."

your eyes go wide.

“what?”

"don't 'what' me you've been eye fucking him for the last 10 minutes." he laughs. you look to your right where jamie sat, looking completely unbothered.

"fine." you say climbing lazily into his lap. you place both of your hands on his face and colliding your lips. his hands find there way to your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip to open. immediately, you feel your panties soak with moisture. he pats your ass cheek to signal that your time was done. once you separate you take a second to look into his eyes and what you saw was not what you expected from him.

pure lust.

you climb off his lap back into my spot, sitting criss cross quickly and adjust the leggings you’re wearing.

"¡ honestly don't even know what to say." kate laughs and everyone joins. including you and jamie with hesitant laughs as our eyes lock again.

"ok anyways jamie, you got 4." she says and he moves his piece 4 spaces.

"take as many shots as rolled on the dice." he says aloud," how about chug for 5 seconds."

"sure." alex says. jamie grabs onto the neck of the malibu and takes a few decent gulps.

"fuck." he says feeling the effects. as the game continues, the tension between jamie and you had only grown. you’ve scooted closer together and his hand has found his way onto your leg.

"HA I WIN!" mason yells, downing the rest of his drink. everyone stands up to go your separate ways again.

jamie grabs onto your hand and guides you to the empty kitchen. he leans back onto the counter, pulling you with him by your hands. your hands find their way to his chest as you look up into his big blue eyes.

"you can't keep looking at me like that." he says smoothing his hands down your back and stopping on your ass.

"but maybe it's because i want something." you say basically pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

"y/n there's a bunch of people here." he says hesitantly lifting his hand off your ass and directing your gaze to the window.

"and you have a bedroom, with a door that locks." you say patting him on the chest. he sits and stares at you for another moment.

"my fucking god, how can i say no to you?" he says leaning down and connecting your lips again, this time more passionately, knowing that no one is around. after a few moments you hesitantly break the kiss.

"come on let's go hang out with them for a little bit." he says surprisingly.

"jamie please." you beg grabbing fist fulls of his shirt.

"y/n come on, we can go sit out with them while they drink more and then we can go up okay?" he asks brushing a strand up hair out of your face.

"but why can't we just go now?"

"would you just trust me for a second?" he says clearly having an alterier motive.

"okay." you say as he kisses you one more time before guiding you by the small of your back out to the fire pit. he sits down on the loveseat and you go to sit next to him, which he stops you and pulls you onto his lap and jumps into conversation casually. you stare at him like an alien for a moment while his hands so casually rested around your ass. you’re painfully aware of how close you are.

at this point you’re longing for him. you keep shifting on his lap trying to hide the horny bitch you were becoming, while hopefully torturing him in the process. his hands tighten their grip on you

. "go upstairs." he whispers in your ear.

"and say what to them?"

"just say you're going to the bathroom because you don't feel great or something. i'll be up there in five." he replies and you stand up.

"hey guys, i'm gonna head to the bathroom, i'm not feeling great. i may call it a night."

"aw but you're staying over right?" trevor asks.

"yeah yeah, just gonna go maybe take a cold shower or something." you say finally escaping and making your way up the stairs into jamie's room. knowing that jamie would soon be up there for you is already enough to leave your underwear dripping.

you sat anxiously on the bed, picking at your nails waiting for him to walk through the door. a few slow minutes go by and you finally hear the knob turn.

"sorry i kept you waiting love, i told them i was coming to check on you and they just kept trying to get me to stay."

"it's okay, you're here now," you say standing up and walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

"do you know how hard it was for me to control myself with you squirming like that, i could barely keep my dick in line." he says separating your lips.

"i'm sorry, i couldn't help myself. i wanted you so bad."

"now i know we're both drunk but are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks you keeping his hands placed gently on your sides.

"yes of course i do. drunk words are sober thoughts jamie. i've always had a little crush on you." you giggle pressing the side of your head to his chest and hugging onto him.

"come here." he says beckoning you over to the bed, pulling you on top of him as he laid on his back. he connects your lips hungrily as his tongue begs for entry, which is immediately given. you run your hands up his toned chest under his shirt, signaling for him to remove it which he quickly does. you break apart the kiss, sitting up and removing your shirt. he sits up to meet you and connecting your lips again as you feel the bulge in his pants push against you. he groans at the contact.

"fuck i need you jamie." you say growing hornier by the millisecond. hastily, you remove the rest of our outer layer leaving you both only in underwear. he stands looking at you for a few moments before walking over to you, touching your chests together. he runs his fingers gently down your sides, trailing goosebumps behind them.

"you're so gorgeous y/n." he whispers, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

"you're just teasing me at this point jam, please i want you."

"i'm being serious though angel." he says trailing kisses on your jawline.

"come on." you say pulling him by his waist to the bed.

"lay down." he says and you do so. he pulls you by my calves towards the edge of the bed and carefully removes your underwear.

"jamie what are you doing?"

"you've been so gorgeous tonight so i'm all about you." he says kissing your inner thighs leading closer and closer to your core. your breath hitches when his tongue makes immediate, intense contact with your clit making your eyes roll into the back of my head.

"fuck jamie." you moan out, tangling your fingers in his dark locks. his tongue moves in thorough circles before he slips two fingers in unexpectedly making the knot in your stomach tighten harder.

"oh my fucking god." you choke on my words. you knew you were closed based on the ever building ecstasy you felt in my body.

"i'm gonna, i'm-fuck." you say cumming way quicker than you originally expected. he stands up with a wide, lustful smirk on his face and you sit up bringing his face to your, not caring that he was just face deep in your pussy.

"i want you." you say grabbing onto his face as you break apart. you feel him unclasp your bra and you free yourself of it.

"have me." he says, backing away and removing his boxers, stroking his dick a few times. he pulls your legs apart and bends your knees close to your chest. he looks down lining himself up with your entrance and he begins to push in slowly.

"god fuck." you say gripping onto the sheets. you had fucked a few guys but no one near the size of jamie.

"do you want me all the way in or do you need a second?"

"all the way, just wait until i tell you to move."

"whatever you want baby." he says, pushing a significant amount of dick all the way into you.

"you're so big jamie." you say gritting my teeth. he leans over, placing his hands on either side of your head.

"we don't have to do this." he says.

"no no i want to, so bad." you say kissing him desperately again. once you feel comfortable with his size you nod signaling for him to move. he begins thrusting his hips slowly, completely filling you up with each push.

"you feel so good y/n." he says huffing between words. you place your hands on his back as he begins to pick up his speed very slowly. never once had a man ever made you feel the way jamie is making you feel. the euphoric feelings you were experiencing was almost over stimulating. by the time he reaches a quick pace, your nails are digging into his back.

"so so good for me baby." he says continuing his pace yet kissing you so lovingly.

"oh my god jamie i'm close." your voice comes out in a whisper close to his ear.

"yeah that's my girl right there." he says, somehow deepening his thrusts sending your eyes shooting into the back of my head. your walls begin to clench around him knowing you would be reaching your second climax very soon.

"oh fuck fuck." you say finally releasing the built up pressure in my abdomen.

"i'm almost there." he says fucking you right through my orgasm, moments later feeling his warm seed spilling into you.

"fuck oh my god." you say as he lays down on your chest, staying inside of you. he kisses up your chest up to your lips leaving a smile on your face. he pulls out and grabs all of your clothes off the floor, tossing them into his hamper.

"let me get you cleaned up and grab you some clean clothes." he says kissing you on the cheek before going into his bathroom to soak a rag with warm water to wipe you clean.

you lean up to go dig into your bag that was coincidentally already in his room and he stops you.

"no stay there, ill get it." he says digging into your bag, grabbing only your spare underwear before digging into his drawers for a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. he hands them to you one by one as you put them on.

"so beautiful." he says, sounding completely sober, knowing he's not. you blush at his words, still buzzing from the alcohol.

"what are you gonna tell everyone?" you ask getting under his covers.

"i'm gonna go tell them you were sick so i helped you shower and put you in bed so im gonna stay in here with you."

"oh, okay." you smile not expecting him to want to stay up here with you.

"i'll be right back okay? get comfortable." he says shutting the door behind him. a few short minutes later he returns to his room smiling.

"you didn't tell anyone did you?"

"no no don't worry. they think it's sweet that i want to help you."

"well you didn't help me in the way they think." you wink at him and he laughs, joining you in bed. he pulls you over to lay on his chest as you sat in silence for a few moments.

"so what now?" you ask quietly.

"what do you mean?"

"is this just a fuck and done thing or like what's next?" you repeat.

"y/n, i like you. my feelings for you have grown by miles tonight." he says rubbing his hand up and down your back underneath the shirt. all you can do is lean up and smile at him.

"you like me?" you giggle.

"yeah i do." he smiles back.

"prove it." you say with a fake attitude. he gently pulls you by your chin and kisses you deeply.

"was that enough proof for you?" he laughs.

"i think so." you blush, "i like you a lot too by the way."

"prove it." he says mocking you and you roll my eyes, locking your lips with his, your hand placed delicately on his cheek.

"was that enough proof for you?" you reply mocking him this time nuzzling your head into his neck.

"¡ would say yes." he replies holding you closer as you drift off into a peaceful sleep together for the first time.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale smut #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey imagine #turcs’ talk

239 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 2 months

Text

Second Chance | Jamie Drysdale

summary: jamie might still have your mind but does he really have your heart?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, mild choking, mild degradation, jealous jamie, swearing.

word count: 3.68k

authors note: for how long this took me I’m embarrassed to admit to how short it is… this part two was also so freaking weird to write so I’m hoping it’s a bit better to read.

pt 1

You had grown to hate Anaheim.

The city was a shell of its former self with where the shadows of Jamie seemed to haunt your mind. Everywhere you looked you swore he was there and you hated being met with the reality that he wasn’t. But most of all you hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to hate him.

Trevor noticed the decline in your mood but he just assumed that it was some kind of seasonal depression. And as he focused on building his new relationship with his girlfriend, he simply didn’t notice how far you had fallen. Trying to grapple with life as a twenty year old was always going to be tough and still feeling the pain of a broken heart that was dealt to you by the man who you couldn’t ever call yours.

It was this weird sense of grief you felt. You couldn’t say that you missed him because then what was it that you missed? He wasn’t your boyfriend, and at best Jamie was the guy you slept with from time to time. To top it all off you were a barely keeping it all together whilst Jamie seemed to be unscathed from the unfortunate emotions, only furthering your pain.

Your friends put you on enough dating sites to last anyone a lifetime as you were the only one single. And as you finally stopped turning them down, they wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. With each guy you could only find his downfalls or how he wasn’t like Jamie and how your heart and your brain just wanted the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

So after almost three months of struggling with all of these men that clearly weren’t enough to pull your mind from the grasps of Jamie; you finally found someone who made you feel alive and funnily enough he had been right in front of you all along. Alex started hanging out more with you when Trevor started spending more time with Dixie.

Alex had actually shown up at the Zegras siblings apartment one night looking for Trevor “hey Al.” You smiled as you saw the boy stand over you “is Trev in?”Aled asked as he cocked his head shoving his hands into his shorts pockets.

Your lips pursed together as you shook your head “he’s out on a date.” Your words made him wriggle his eyebrows as he laughed “I got that man dinner for nothing?” Every Wednesday the duo would go for dinner if they didn’t have a game and now it seemed that your brother forgot of that tradition.

You frowned sending him a sigh “if you’re up for an episode of the bachelor I could eat?” You offered opening the door further as you smiled tilting your head inwards “since you asked so nicely.” Alex didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked in making himself comfortable on the couch.

That’s how your weeks ended, with Alex on the couch and he was no longer just your brothers best friend but instead a friend of yours. You had to say that you found yourself falling for him. With Alex it was no longer tough to not think about Jamie, instead now it was tough to not let your body feel like it was on fire with nerves.

All the way in Philly sat Jamie as he frowned staring at his phone in his empty apartment. The sound of a notification pulled him from his daze when he realised that he had a voicemail from you. It surprised him when he saw your name but after months of letting his thumb hover over the call button only stopping when the fear of hearing you upset got to him. But instead he was met with the sounds of you in bed with someone else.

The sounds of your breathe shaking echoed in the phones speaker “fuck Al!” You moaned letting your legs shake “you are such a pretty fucking girl.” Alex mumbled as he ran his finger over your clit. It made Jamie freeze listening to you having sex. Was he meant to hang up? Because this clearly wasn’t meant for him.

You grabbed the boy by the back of his neck as you pulled him forward “gonna come.” You announced kissing his lips “go make a mess on my fingers and I’ll make you feel real good with my cock.” As the offer left Alex’s lips a flurry of jumbled sounds and noises left your mouth signalling that you had reached your high.

The sounds made Jamie recoil in disgust as he didn’t know what to do about it. Most of all though he missed being the one who made you sound like that. Jamie didn’t know what to do as he felt his cock hardening in his pants. The season had ended and he was meant to be heading home to his parents but all he could think about was you. There were no rumours on twitter about you and this Al that Jamie swore was Turcotte.

And he knew that Twitter would have found something as they even had scraps of you and Jamie together swirling around the rumour mill. So as he was met with nothing but random pictures of you and Trevor, Jamie knew what he had to do.

You groaned when you were woken up to the incessant pounding on your door when you realised that Trevor was still out “alright I’m coming!” You complained rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Before you could even properly open the door it was pushed into you as the raven haired boy that you knew so well walked in “where is he?” Jamie grunted looking around the pristinely clean apartment “where is who?” You yawned wondering if you were dreaming of Jamie being there.

The boy stopped planting his feet where he was as he sent you a harsh glare “the man you fucked last night y/n!” His words made you freeze as you began to wonder how he knew about what you had done the night before.

A laugh echoed through your ears “you gonna tell me you don’t remember giving me that front row seat to listen in?” your eyes went wide as you realised what had gone on.

You couldn’t help but bring your hand to your mouth as you held back a laugh “you came back because you heard me have sex?” You knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up but that clearly seemed to be his entire reason for being there and you were a fool to think that it could have been something else.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he felt himself grow angry “I leave for Philly and all of a sudden you’re deciding that your type simply has to be friends with your brother.” The flyer spat as he sent you a glare “you don’t get to go there!” The embarrassment you once held had left your chest as it had been replaced by anger.

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms “why not?” Jamie spoke rhetorically as he cocked his head “because that’s the only thing we have in common.” He pointed out reminding you of how different the boys were.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you left me and came back to judge me for moving on?” Your voice was barely a whisper as the boy stepped closer to you.

Part of you was grateful for the fact that Alex left earlier that morning needing to catch a flight back to Michigan but the other part just wanted him to walk into the living room to stop whatever was going to come from this “you didn’t really move on though, did ya?” Jamie’s fingers were rough against your cheek as he towered over you.

A shaky breath left your lips “you’re being mean.” You pointed out trying your best to ignore his question “tell me to leave and I will.” Jamie announced pressing a cold and hard gaze against your weakening one.

The oxygen around the room was struggling to get into your lungs as you shook your head “you know I can’t.” It came with this defeated sigh that even made Jamie pity you “then why’d you go for him?” The question was like the one you had asked yourself so many times and could never find the answers to.

You shrugged as no answer really made the most sense “you enjoyed playing him is that it?” The hockey player was pushing your buttons in search of a particular answer “he’s good to me J.” You shook your head almost offended that the boy in front of you thought that lowly of you.

Yet it gave him the chance to laugh at you once more “better than I was?” It seemed like that was the first question you could actually shake off as you shook your head but this time to really say no “does he have you coming for rounds on end?” Especially once Jamie moved into out from the Zegras sibling’s apartment; it meant that you were over at his more often than not and up until the sun would rise.

Tears welled in your waterline “only you do that.” It was as though his cock left an imprint on your cunt that only he knew how to make feel full “I know my sweet girl.” You really thought that you had moved on from Jamie but as he stood in front of you with his hand caressing your cheek, you knew that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jamie put you out of your misery as his free hand gripped at your hip “how about I make you feel real fucking good?” He offered letting his lips hover over yours “please.” Was all the hockey player needed to hear as he picked you up letting your legs wrap around his waist as his lips locked with yours.

All of the lust and anger that both of you felt about the situation -about each other- was oozing out of your systems as your hands tugged through his hair pulling at the roots as his tongue slid into your lips “should fuck you out here like the real slut that you are.” He proposed letting a smirk form across his lips as he watched your eyes go wide.

Trevor had told you he was coming home, you just didn’t know when “Jim.” You whined shaking your head as you motioned your bedroom trying to tell him that today wasn’t the time for it “you worried that your little boy toy is gonna come back to see where you really belong?” Jamie nipped at your neck as he walked you both into your room making sure that the door was shut.

He watched in awe as your eyes scanned his face “his name is Alex, Jamie.” You reminded the boy as you felt guilty thinking about how sweet Alex was to you “and I’m gonna make sure you forget it.” Jamie’s announcement didn’t have you thinking otherwise as he placed you onto your bed settling into his place between your legs.

You had seen Jamie jealous before after you chugged a beer that Mason had given you. But this was a whole new level as if Jamie had something to prove “now rest that pretty little head of yours on that pillow f’me.” The hockey player reached behind you to grab your pillow as he pulled it closer to you.

One thing you always knew how to do was listen to him and today you didn’t disappoint. Your body nestled against your sheets as you looked at him with anticipation “god you’re soaked.” Jamie grunted seeing your soaked cunt as he trailed his fingers against your slit watching in awe as your wetness stuck to fingers.

He swore that the sight would truly never get old as he would watch you like this forever “please.” Your voice waivered as you forced your hips into the air “been thinking about having a taste of this all the fucking time.” Jamie confessed making you meet him with a whimper.

His lips pressed against your knee “Jamie.” You groaned feeling his breath go down your legs as he made sure to spread his love equally “yeah baby.” The hockey player turned his head up to look at you as you chewed at your lower lip.

A mewl left your lips “please fuck me.” You begged feeling desperate to feel him between your thighs again “don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he blew a cool air against your cunt “not after you were fucking him on our bed.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond as his tongue latched onto your clit.

Your hands gripped at your sheets in an attempt to stop your body from curling into itself “‘m sorry.” You croaked out as your body melted into his touch

Jamie might as well have been a starved man as he treated you like you were his last meal “can’t believe you let him see my sweet tight pussy.” The boy raised his lips only far enough to bring his hand between you both so that he could hit your cunt.

It made you moan as your body shook “he would let me come.” You knew you were playing with fire as the hockey player sent you a glare “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in so much trouble.” Jamie warned edging dangerously close to you as he smirked.

You used the last bits of power and strength that you had left to smile “you used to deal with that by putting your cock in my mouth.” You swore that in that moment Jamie was seeing the devil as his pupils darkened “that’s before I had to treat you like somebody else’s whore.” He spat letting his fingers grip onto your hips as he turned you over resulting in a yelp leaving your lips.

Your didn’t often deceive you but in that moment you swore you heard Jamie grunt into your ear “you just had to go and give this pretty little cunt to someone who didn’t even deserve it.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he undid his belt.

You gripped at your sheets as you felt your shirt come off of your back as it was lifted up “see he isn’t a fan of you back here.” The hockey player mumbled to himself as your back looked untouched “at least I know your ass is still mine then.” He squeezed your ass in his fingers causing a breathy moan to leave your lips.

You couldn’t help but shake your ass pushing yourself into him “god I need to fuck you.” Jamie groaned feeling his cock throb as he felt your bare cunt grind against him “what are you waiting for then?” The question taunted him practically egging him on as you push his buttons further.

The swollen tip of his cock oozed precum as he wrapped his hand around his shaft “you’re lucky that I can’t get this cunt out of my head.” He grumbled pumping himself once then twice before he dragged the mushroom head over your slit.

It made your body tense as you curled your toes “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by your pillow as Jamie smirked to himself “seems like you been missing me too.” The hockey player gripped at your hips as he let himself bottom you out.

Both of you stayed there for a moment as your walls hugged his length “like I never even left ya.” Jamie gritted his teeth as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts feeling his eyes flutter “was worried he would have ruined my pretty fucking pussy.” The boy spat oozing with jealousy as it made you whimper.

Tears formed in your waterline when your ass was met with a smack “no!” You cried as you shook your head “don’t worry doll.” Jamie kissed the back of your neck as his hands slid under you to cup your breasts.

The sounds of his thrusts echoed in your ears “could never ruin something that wasn’t his.” Your cunt clenched around Jamie as you were aroused by his possessiveness “you like hearing me say that you’re all mine huh?” You could feel his smirk like the Cheshire Cat as you nodded.

Jamie’s knees dipped into the mattress as he got the best angle into you “all yours.” You moaned as you turned your head up to see him looking back down at you “knew you still had a brain in that pretty head of yours.” The hockey player kissed your cheek as his cock throbbed from within you.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock “don’t stop J.” You begged feeling a coil snap in your stomach “you feel you haven’t had a good fuck in months.” Jamie wasn’t lying when he said that, your cunt stretched to his cock and it was as though he hadn’t been with you before.

Cries let your lips as you babbled a steady stream of incoherent nonsense “make me feel so full.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs began to shake “you feel me in here?” Jamie asked pressing his hand against your lower stomach where he felt his cock hit your gspot that left you yelping out in pleasure.

His fingers slid lower to rub your clit “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced not thinking that you would be able to last much longer “gonna hold it until you ask nicely.” Jamie clicked his tongue as his free hand was quick to move to your neck as he pulled you closer to him as he held you upright.

Sweat stuck your both of you as his thrusts began to grow unstable and inconsistent “please let me come.” You called out not caring who could hear you “just want to be all yours.” You nodded feeling your vision get blurry as you didn’t think you were going to last much longer.

Jamie let his teeth sink into your shoulder as he stopped himself from coming in that moment “you never gonna let him get close to your pretty cunt ever again?” Jamie spat pressing his fingertips over the sides of your throat.

You swore your throat was raw as you kept on begging to have him let you come “I’m only yours Jamie.” You mumbled nodding as your ears began to ring “you fucking own me.” That was enough to let Jamie go feral as he used the little energy he had left to practically fuck you into oblivion “just go make a mess on my cock doll.” The order wasn’t something he needed to say twice.

As your cunt clenched around him it triggered the hockey players orgasm on as he spurted his warm load in sticky strings against your cunts walls “fuck J.” You whined writhing against him as you practically forgot how to breathe when the oxygen to your brain began to slow.

It took him a few more thrusts until you both landed on your mattress and his hand left your neck “wow.” Jamie mumbled sliding his cock out from your cunt to see your release mix either his as it oozed out “you okay?” He added flipping you over onto your back as you finally got the chance to look at him.

The way his eyes scanned you deep of concern made you laugh “that was the hottest thing I think you’ve ever done.” You confessed making him match your laugh as he leaned down to kiss you “think I can make it a little hotter then.” Jamie proposed running his hand down your slit before he scooped up whatever release that had oozed from your cunt as he now let it go back into your core as he pushed his fingers through your hole.

That day left an imprint on your mind as four weeks had gone by and Jamie had become nothing more than one of Trevor’s friends. Confessions seemed to way less than your brothers tears as he drunkenly sobbed into your arms one night begging you to end whatever it was after he found you in Jamie’s shirt.

Thankfully Trevor seemed to have no recollection of the conversation as he invited Jamie along to the family house on the lake a little over a month from now. Sure it was going to be weird for you but after a long call with Jamie you both agreed that it was going to be best for things to end for the sakes of Trevor.

He tried to put up a fight but when you brought up distance amongst other factors, Jamie knew he had lost the battle. You and Alex were merely enjoying things the way they were.

It was the perfect balance that truly didn’t need a label to have you feeling secure. Yet as you stood in the bathroom waiting for your timer to go off part of you began to curse your big brother for having to come to you, and for you having to be a good person.

Your period had been late and as it was bikini season you never complained but when you did the math backwards you realised that something was off. Even if you had shared your bed with two different guys, only one had you without any kind of protection between you both was Jamie.

And as you flipped the test over to see the thick bold letters spelling out the word PREGNANT you knew you were in all sense of the word fucked. No amount of tears was ever going to help make this situation better as you began to panic. Your head pressed against your knees as you wanted to wake up from this dream.

Al 🖤: just booked my flight see you next month x

#ambers love moments #amber writes fics #jamie Drysdale smut #jamie Drysdale imagines #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale smut #philadephia flyers #philidelphia flyers #jamie drysdale x y/n #nhl angst #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl players #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey stuff

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leaentries · 5 months

Text

jamie “who absolutely lost his fucking mind the first time you called him daddy” drysdale

sounds of skin slapping and the headboard slamming against the wall filled the empty apartment. your loud moans turned into screams as jamie plunged himself in your cunt. his hands wrapped tightly around your legs that were propped over his shoulders.

you let your legs fall as they began to shake with pleasure. jamie’s hands switched to grab your hips, pulling your weight to meet his thrusts. you dug your nails into his forearms, drawing a deep groan from jamie.

“fuck just like that baby. taking me so well.” he leaned down, moving his arms to rest by your head as he laid his body flush against your own. you legs welcomed him with ease, wrapping around his waist to rest on his lower back.

you could feel the shocks of your orgasm begin to tighten in your belly. your pussy contracting violently around jamie’s thick cock. he sped up his pumps as he felt your core tug him in closer. the way your walls wrapped around his cock was heavenly.

“mmm, daddy.” you whimpered mindlessly. your head completely empty other than thoughts of jamie. your whole body and senses were consumed with him. you could feel his hip stutter, stilling slightly as he heard your words.

your eyes widened as you realized what you had said.

“what was that?” his blue eyes bored into yours, with a certain fire that you had never seen.

“n-nothing, jamie,” you swallowed thickly, turning your head away. “it was nothing.”

jamie’s hand gripped your face, forcing you to look at him once more. “no, no, baby. it was definitely not nothing.” he lowered his lips, now slightly grazing your own with each word.

“i want you to say it again.”

you bucked your hips pathetically, trying to get him to move them once more. his throbbing cock now unmoving in your aching cunt.

“not how this works, princess. say it again, or i’ll leave you here to finish yourself off.” normally you wouldn’t think jamie had it in him, always making sure to have you cum at least twice before he even thinks about himself. but the look on his face made it seem like he was serious.

the way his eyes were darkened and slightly hooded and his jaw rapidly clenching as he tried not to give in to the sweet tightness of you.

going against the burning sense of embarrassment, you felt yourself muttering the words, “please, daddy.”

“fuck me.” jamie whispered. he let his hips find their original pace, brutally snapping into your eager hole. his hands now gripped your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

all the mattered was the force that jamie’s cock was hitting that sponge spot inside of you with every shot of his hips. your mouth opened in a silent scream, your boobs bouncing with the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

“you like that princess?” he brings his lips down to yours once more, stealing a white-hot kiss. his tongue traces your lips, as you let him gain entrance. your body too fucked out to put up a fight.

jamie’s pulled back, panting. “that’s it, cum for daddy. make a mess on his cock.”

you felt the knot in your core snap as fiery pleasure seared your whole body. your blood boiling as your body arched into jamie’s rigid front.

you let out a meek cry, “fuck yes, daddy.”

jamie quickly met you at the peak, the sound of your desperate cries enough to push him to his own orgasm. he continued his thrusts, shooting hot ropes of cum deep inside of your abused pussy.

he slowed down, making sure to work you both through your highs. jamie’s body collapsed against yours, laying his head on your chest. you both laid there panting, attempting to catch your breaths.

after a few minutes, you let your hand travel to his hair, gently playing with the messy strands. his own hands rubbed soothing circles into the reddish-purple marks on your hips. you basked in the bliss of each others spent bodies.

the peaceful silence was broken by your words, “so, daddy huh?”

he bit your shoulder lightly, face turning red.

“shut up.”

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale smut #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #anaheim ducks #leawrites💋

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mamaestapa · 4 months

Note

New Years smut w Jamie!!

Meet me at Midnight|| Jamie Drysdale x reader

• pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

• summary: you jamie have more than a new years kiss to ring in the new year

• warnings: SMUT! unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, jamie loves boobs, uhhh i think that’s all lol

Jamie’s hands roamed up your mini black dress clad body as he sucked harshly at your neck. He was definitely leaving deep purple bruises along your collarbone and neck, but he didn’t care.

Jamie loved to mark you up. He loved to show everyone that you were his and his only.

You whimpered softly as your boyfriend’s hands cupped your butt cheeks, giving each cheek a squeeze as his lips crashed onto yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, resting on his upper back as Jamie hoisted you up onto the counter. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“How many more minutes until midnight?” You asked, panting softly from the heavy make-out session. Jamie glanced at his phone that was sitting on the counter beside you. “Five. Think you can make it?”

“Definitely.”

Jamie smirked at your response as he traced over the diamond patter on the neckline of your dress before pulling the straps to the side so he could get a good view of your perky breasts in the black cups lined with lace. He groaned at the sight of your breasts. Jamie loved your boobs. He lowered his head and began to kiss along your chest, licking the soft skin of your breasts before sucking at the skin. If he kept this up, you wouldn’t make it to midnight.

You and Jamie were at a New Year’s Eve party hosted by some of this teammates. Obviously, Jamie was going to be your new years kiss, but after long night of taking shots, sipping on a drink or two, and dancing until your legs were numb, the two of you had a better idea than just sharing a new years kiss.

Jamie wanted to make you cum as soon as the clock hit midnight. Not a minute before nor a minute after, it had to be at 12 AM on the dot. He wanted you to both to start the new year off on a high note, and a mind blowing orgasm or two was the perfect way to ensure that that happened. So a quickie in his teammates laundry room would have to do…

Jamie pulled the bottom of your dress up, giving him just enough access to your soaking core through the diamond slit in the upper thigh of your dress. As he pushed your dress to the side and pulled your panties down your smooth legs, you hurried to undo Jamie’s belt. Once the belt was undone, the dark haired boy pulled his dress pants down in one swift motion. You wet your lips at the sight of his boner through his boxers. You needed him so bad.

“I don’t have a condom, you’re still on the pill right? If not we can-.”

“Jamie,” you all but whimpered, “Forget the condom. I need you inside me right now.”

Jamie wasted no time, pulling his boxers down and lining himself up with your slick entrance before he thrusted into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his tip pushing against your cervix. You clawed at his plum dress shirt covered back as the sound of your sweet moans filled his ears.

“Fuck,” Jamie grunted, “so tight, feels good.”

His thrusts picked up pace as the minutes ticked by. As midnight approached you felt yourself growing closer to your release. Jamie placed his hands on firmly on your hips as he kissed at your neck. You were a whimpering mess as Jamie pounded relentlessly into you. The feeling of pleasure was overwhelming you and Jamie as the two of you panted from the fast pace. You brought your hands up to Jamie’s head, tugging harshly at his soft dark hair as his thrusts quickened.

“J, ‘m close.”

“Wait for midnight sweetheart.”

The muffled sound of the others counting down the seconds to the new year started.

Ten.

“Oh Jamie.”

Nine.

You whimpered softly from Jamie’s touch. It all felt so good.

Eight.

You bucked your hips into Jamie, the sounds the boy made as he fucked you had you growing closer and closer.

Seven.

Midnight couldn’t come fast enough…

Six.

“Jamie-uh,” you moaned as you fell forward into his chest, “don’t think I can make it.”

Five.

“Yes you can baby.”

Four.

Jamie’s cock twitched inside you as you felt the coil in your lower belly threaten to snap with each thrust of your boyfriend’s hips. The two of you were moaning messes.

Three.

Your bodies were growing sticky with sweat and your chests heaved with each pant. So close…

Two.

“That’s it,” Jamie praised through his grunts, “cum for me pretty girl.”

One.

You moaned Jamie’s name loudly as you reached your climax. Jamie followed, panting your name and a number of praises as spurts of his hot cum spilled out of you. Jamie crashed his lips onto yours as your chests heaved. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

“Happy New Year Jamie baby.” You breathed out as you pressed your forehead against his. He chuckled softly at your blissed out smile, “Happy New Year sweetheart.”

You got your New Years kiss and a mind blowing orgasm. 2024 definitely started off on the right foot for you and Jamie...

hi loves!!

happy new year😚 to celebrate the start of a new year, i’ve decided to do a blurb day & night. and we’re starting off strong with a jamie blurb ;)

i hope you all have a great day! i’ll be posting more throughout the day so stay tuned🤍

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #jamie drysdale imagines #blurb night!#new years blurbs

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 3 months

Text

know me the way you know your childhood scars, like breathing; i wasn't running but if i was i'm glad it was to you.

tz11 x reader: a small town, a fresh start, a shared heart.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, thigh-riding (this is newish), dirty talk (if you're new, welcome!), mentions of previous relationship being awful, i know i'm forgetting stuff but all my typical things. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites - i think jd6 getting traded was exactly what i needed in order to write a tz11 character who is actually a nice guy. i call that the best-friend-getting-a-new-best-friend-who-is-named-cam-york effect. anyways, this is long as hell (14k, anyone?), because i have recently been absolutely so over law school guys. i just want a guy who likes to get his hands dirty and actually has friends. too much to ask? okay. obviously, i got so insanely carried away here, as you will be able to tell. we've got about a million side characters, some of which you will recognize, some of which you will not, because i made them up (tell me why i'm so into the matt/bridget dynamic. could write about just them. maybe i will). you guys know that there will be plot holes and dialogue issues and the likes, but you love me anyways, and i love you for that. tz11 should enjoy this, because i know he will inevitably be back in my bad graces soon enough. next up is someone new (!) because i miss when people used to write about tyson jost left and right. hm, what else? tell me what you think, what you'd like to see. my one year anniversary since my first post is feb. 2 (i actually can't believe how fast it went by, and i'm so grateful for you for sticking with me). so, so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. until next time.

this was probably a terrible idea, you thought, with your suitcases beside you, your head in your hands at the foot of the bed that would be yours for the foreseeable future. one bed of several at a local inn - local to this town, at least, not local to you.

no, you thought, jittery with unknowing and chance and uncertainty, none of this was familiar to you. not this town in the middle of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of miles from your hometown, your university. not any of the few people you had interacted with, not the uber driver, the inn keeper, the housekeeping staff.

not one part of this place, this experience, not one part was familiar. but that's what you'd wanted, wasn't it? that was the whole point?

you'd wanted to find yourself, wanted to prove that you could take care of yourself, exist on your own, thrive outside of the bubble that was university.

you wanted a fresh start, away from ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, their betrayal still fresh, a wound scabbing over on your heart. you wanted to breathe deeply and not worry about who was watching you exhale - a place where nobody knew you, where nobody could whisper about the girl whose boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend. for three years. she's so stupid, how could she not have noticed?

well, here, you decided, that's what you would get. a humble job as a diner waitress lined up to start tomorrow, a booked room with no check-out date, not a laugh you'd recognize for miles and miles.

this is what you'd wanted, you told yourself, now, loneliness settling in your mouth the way the powder on sour candy does. this is what you have.

completely exhausted from travel and emotional havoc, you passed out that night amidst dreams of fresh starts and trees too tall to see you behind them.

such a lovely image did not last nearly an hour into the next morning, the first day of your new job, just a block or so from the inn you were staying at.

this was part of the reason you had chosen this place for your self-discovery journey, after all - the urgent hiring, competitive wage, amazingly low price for room and board.

you had worked in your university's coffee shop for a year or two to help pay your tuition, so, honestly, how different could it be?

very different, you realized, almost immediately. they were hiring urgently for a reason, which meant there was practically nobody there to train you. one of the line cooks, of all people, just threw you an apron and a name tag to wear over your uniform-compliant black skirt and shirt, mumbled something about a welcome, enunciated something louder about table three needing service.

and so your self-proclaimed new life began completely unceremoniously, with a name-tag that misspelled your name, the smell of waffles and western omelets permeating the air like some grandmother's perfume in an old living room.

at the very least, the business made the time pass quickly, as you paced from table to table, only pausing briefly to introduce yourself to the line, the host, the several curious patrons who asked about you.

"new girl," some impossibly old man husked, "they not have hot coffee where you're from?" he grimaced as he took another sip. "cold as a winter's -"

"okay, that's enough," his companion said, a woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair chopped short. she gave you a sympathetic look, like you two were sharing some inside joke. you liked her immediately. "he's had about twelve cups already. don't mind him."

you felt your mouth tick up in a smile for what might have been the first time this morning as you introduced yourself to her, and her father, who you learned everyone affectionately called "old man peters." you learned that the young woman's name was bridget, and she insisted on giving you her number, in case you had any questions, or wanted to get together, or needed anything at all.

your day was already looking up, you thought, as you lifted your sulking ponytail from you back, loose strands curling at the nape of your neck, around your ears. bridget and old man peters bid you goodbye, and then the young host, a boy who stuttered so much over his name that you still didn't quite know what it was, sheepishly alerted you that he had seated a group at the booth in your section.

your flipped to a new page in your notepad as you walked back to the booth, your gaze quickly being tugged up by a drawl-ish voice blurting out "dibs! i call dibs!"

such as exclamation was followed by several groans and one "not fair, you're the only one facing the door."

your brow was slightly scrunched in confusion when you stood at the head of the group's table, four pairs of eyes faced to you in a way that made you feel like a politician about to give a speech.

you cleared your throat, not quite looking anyone in the face. "good morning," you said, "can i get you guys started with some drinks?"

you looked up from your notepad, clicking your pen against the surface of it, taking in the table of - well, you weren't really sure. construction workers, maybe? craftsmen? the four of them had on heavy canvas-like jackets, worn and worked in, highlighter-bright shirts underneath, callused hands that your observant eyes took note of immediately. they were young, too, probably about your age, which made you blush, only a little. these were not the kind of guys you had met in college, the kind who you would have taken a class on freud with, the kind who thought everything with a woman's hand around it was a phallic symbol.

"just coffee," one of them said, short. he tacked on a please when one of his friends smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

you motioned with your pen around the whole table. "for everyone?" you asked, but the question stumbled out of your mouth when your eyes caught on the last of the four, the one on the bench on the right, closest to you.

that sharp face, high cheekbones and cut jaw, should have been so serious, you thought, like some kind of statue, the kind your art history friends would have fawned over in a museum you didn't really want to go to. he should have been so serious, angular like that, but he was anything but. mirth danced in his eyes, so bright they almost sparkled. his full mouth was fixed in a sort of perpetual smirk, so ready to laugh that he was already halfway there. he had the lines around his eyes that told you his full smile would tear you in two.

you were probably staring at him, you realized, flushing deeper as his smirk broke free into something wider, all over his face.

"see, guys," he spoke, that goofy drawl you had noticed on your way over, nothing like the pretentious academics who spoke in circles. he leaned back in the booth. "doesn't matter that i called dibs. she likes me best anyways."

your face scrunched up in some combination of disbelief and hidden delight. "wait," you began, "when i was walking over here, when you said something about dibs," you fixed him with what you hoped was a glare, "you were calling dibs on me?"

he shrugged off his jacket, drawing attention to his wide shoulders, arms thick even through his bright long sleeve. you snapped your gaze back to his eyes, which shimmered, telling you that you'd been caught. "what's the big deal?"

you scoffed, blew a stray curl from your eye line. "you don't call dibs on people," you said.

"yeah, trevor," one of his friends teased, "what's wrong with you?"

"where to begin?" one of the others said, almost lost in thought.

"c'mon, sugar," trevor said, tilting his head, "'s a compliment, yeah?" his gaze rolled down your frame, almost gelatinous, meeting your eyes again reluctantly. "only 'cause you're so pretty, hm?"

you rolled your eyes, fixed your gaze on the one across from him, the one who looked the least engaged. "but, trevor," you whined, stretching out his name like salt-water taffy, "what if i wanted-" you paused, looked down at the blonde just below you.

"matt," he said, practically bored. you nodded your thanks.

"what if i wanted matt?"

his posture grew even more relaxed as he shifted his knees wider under the table. "oh, what if, sugar?" he mused, his eyes so expressive, never off of you for a moment.

"she's gonna spit in your coffee," matt said.

"how about we cut out the middle man and she just spits in my mouth?" he chirped, smirk so telling it made you flush pink.

you mumbled something about decorum before walking away in a flurry of annoyance and excitement. you couldn't really tell the difference, you realized, as you gave the poor host a pot of coffee and asked him kindly to drop it off at the back booth.

you were not something to be called dibs on, that was for sure, and you were here to find yourself, not anyone else, certainly not some guy. even if some guy had soft-looking hair and a witty mouth. even then.

you took a stabilizing breath and got back to work, noting that the back booth only got coffee, only stayed for about twenty minutes before making to leave, heavy jackets loud as they shrugged them back on.

three of the guys called out their thanks and headed out, leaving only a standing trevor there when you approached to settle their bill. thumbing through his wallet, he grinned down at you when you finally stood in front of him again.

he was taller than you thought, you realized, as he now stood at full height. you had to crane your neck slightly to look him fully in the face.

"thought you'd be shorter," you said, honestly, hoping to knock him down a peg, however mean that might have been. but of course he only smirked.

"get that a lot," he drawled, selecting a bill, putting his wallet back in his pocket with hands you had to force yourself not to stare at. "been told 've got the personality of a short guy in the body of a tall one."

you shook your head. of course someone had told him that.

you couldn't really ruminate on that, though, as he stuck the twenty in the front pocket of your apron, as well as something with a slight weight to it, urging an angry pink to the tops of your ears, the feeling of his wide hand warm, so close to you.

you peered up at him, sucked on your teeth as he pulled out his hand slowly, that ever-present smirk almost faltering at your gaze.

"thanks for the service, sugar," he said, and you probably imagined the way the end of his words sounded strained. "see you around, yeah?"

you didn't break eye contact, only let yourself smile back at him before turning and getting back to work, letting the push and pull of waitressing lull you into a rhythm during which it was practically impossible to think too heavily about bright eyes and broad shoulders.

by the end of your shift, you had been officially tired out. you were sure your hair reeked of coffee, and your ankles ached from standing all day.

going to empty your apron, however, right before you left, your hand settled on the bill from earlier, but also several wrapped butterscotch candies. your face contorted as you stared at them, wondering why trevor had put them there.

exhaustion won over curiosity though, as you thanked everyone for your first day and walked the short block back to the inn.

this won't be that bad, you were thinking to yourself as you walked up the stairs. you already had the phone number of a maybe-friend, after all, and as far as jobs went, this one could be a lot worse. good money, good way to meet new people, maybe even something pretty to look at -

as if summoned by your thoughts, when you turned out of the staircase to your hallway, there trevor was, standing on a ladder, looking into the ceiling, some box of tools on the floor.

you narrowed your eyes, bag suddenly feeling heavy on your shoulder. the presence of a new figure drew his gaze to you, and you had to scold your heart, the way it beat like a teenager at the way he looked at you, then. you didn't know him, after all, and you weren't here for anything romantic.

"you followin' me, sugar?" he asked, stepped down from the ladder, making his way over to you. his voice was slow and tired, from whatever he had done that day. you were shocked at the fact that you wanted to know what that was. his gaze shone as he gently took your bag from your shoulder and slugged it onto his own, fell into step beside you. you let him. "tell me you're following me."

you rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face wasn't going anywhere. "this is where i'm staying," you explained, "so, if anything, you're following me."

you stopped in front of your door, leaned back against it, suddenly in no rush to lock yourself behind it, alone. not when he was on this side of the door, looking like this.

almost weary with hard work, but not weary enough to sour him, just enough to make his movements and expressions slightly slower, lazier, more indulgent, like they were drenched in chocolate ganache. not when he was here, looking at you like this, like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

after years at some preppy, pretentious university, at which ingenuity was the most valuable currency, one you felt you lacked so disgustingly, was it really too surprising that you softened under his gaze? that you wanted to stay in it, just a little bit longer?

"sugar?" he asked, head tilted, and you realized he had been talking.

"sorry, what?" you asked, your voice soft like sponge cake, willing your eyes to focus, your mind to focus harder.

he didn't tease you too badly, though, only let his smile grow sharper with a smirk. "i said that 'm sorry if i hurt your feelings with the dibs stuff," he said, and you were almost confused at his apology. you weren't even upset, and when was the last time someone had apologized to you so quickly after doing something?

your memory cut hazily to your ex, somehow trying to convince you it had been your fault that he cheated on you, that it was something you were lacking that had inevitably led him to do that. you practically shivered, then internally scolded yourself for comparing trevor, whom you had met today, you reminded yourself, to your ex-boyfriend.

"'s fine," you said, waving him off, your back softening further into the door. "didn't really hurt my feelings."

his eyes flashed. "didn't really or didn't, sugar?" he asked, searching your face.

you swallowed, acutely aware of his attention, how it slid down your nose, your cheeks, your jaw, slow and thick as sludge. "didn't."

he gave a nod. "'m sorry anyway," he said, and it came out low. "if you really want to go for matt, i won't stop you."

and part of you wanted to blurt out i don't want matt!

but it was your first day in this place, and honestly, you were still kind of hung up on his apology, and the way it sounded from his chapped lips, and you knew to correct him would be exactly what he wanted.

so you just said "thank you," and were shocked at how gentle it sounded.

"jesus christ, distracted, are we, trev?" the voice of the young inn-keeper called from the end of the hallway. he seemed awfully chipper as he approached, hands in his pockets. "i came up to check on your progress," he said, "or lack thereof, i guess." he looked between the two of you. "now i see who's stolen your attention."

"i'm on my legally-required fifteen minute break," trevor said, half-smiling, turning back to you. "sugar, you know my brother, griff?"

you nodded, suddenly clocking the subtle ways their appearances drew from each other. trevor was taller, griff had a wider face, bigger features. but they had the same eyes, same strong nose, mirroring grins. "he owns my room," you said, dumbly, tiredly.

griff only smiled. "she's had a long day, trev, leave her be."

trevor searched your face again, seemed to find all the proof he needed - your heavy eyelids, drooping shoulders. he gently handed your bag back to you. "i'll see you tomorrow, sugar," he said, as soft as you'd heard him. so soft it startled you. "sweet dreams."

"goodnight," you said to both of them, shutting the door behind you. sleep came easily that night, again, with dreams less so of hiding behind trees and more so of rough hands and laughing eyes.

you were surprised, pleasantly so, at how quickly you fell into a routine in your new home. surprised at how quickly you let yourself call this place that.

maybe it was the way that bridget wasn't just being polite when she had given you her phone number, as she had quickly set up dates to show you all her favorite hiking spots around. your weekly hikes with her became a highlight as she told you more about the town, about her young daughter, about book club, about anything and everything. she was so kind with you that you found yourself so comfortable confiding in her. it felt so easy calling her a friend.

maybe it was the way the town seemed to accept you as one of their own so quickly and genuinely. the line cooks flirted with you in the way only line cooks do (in ways that would not be acceptable outside of a kitchen). they made you food to take home, kept you from starving. the host, harry, began to trust you enough that he asked for your help on homework. the regulars began to recognize you, know your name, ask how you were doing. griff checked in on you, asked if anything was wrong with the room, said you should feel free to use his kitchen anytime (as your room was the simplest kind, and didn't have any cooking appliances). you began to know the names of the streets, the stores, the store owners. your fresh start was starting to feel like just that - a start.

or maybe it was that same group of guys who came in every morning, at the same time, who ordered only coffee and then left in a flush of waves and heavy jackets and called-out salutations. you learned that the one with the curly hair, alex, was the quietest, probably the smartest. his closest friend, cole, was the shorter one, who had the loudest laugh. and matt was warming up to you, you thought. the more you made fun of trevor, the more he seemed to like you.

it was that same group, every day, who came in loudly and left louder, who had paint and dirt smudged on their shirts, their hands. who drank coffee like it was water. who laughed like it was easy as breathing, and maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

and, of course, there was trevor, who, the more you got to know him, the more trouble he became. every day, his "good morning, sugar," would reverberate through your chest, and you would drop a pot of coffee at their table, ask how they were doing, listen for their answers.

some comments about how old man peters' roof is caving in, and he should have told them about it probably a year ago, or about how the police chief's plumbing is fucked, or about how they were going over to fix bridget's sink that day. and, if it was the last one, matt would flush, which would make your eyes widen, would make you pepper him with questions about his crush.

and then, at some point during their morning break, trevor would ask something about you, about how you were, about the way you were wearing your hair, the shoes you were wearing, the book you had been reading the week before. and then, as he left, without fail, he would slip a bill and several butterscotch candies into your apron pocket, each time his hand growing heavier, more significant as it settled so close to you.

it didn't particularly help your small crush that you saw him everywhere. he was always fixing something - in the diner, at the inn, in the park downtown. you couldn't escape him and his deft hands, his working mind, his strong frame and easy laugh and addictive smile.

he was everywhere, so of course he would be here, at the grocery store, after your shift one day. you were roaming the isles, looking for a specific kind of vinegar, your basket hoisted up onto your hip, when a low whistle made you turn. you were met with that lazy smirk, your favorite one of his, the nighttime one, the tired one. he approached you, his work boots heavy on the ground.

"you followin' me, trevor?" you asked, repeating what become something of an inside joke between the two of you.

"maybe," he said, looking down at you, shimmering eyes framed by long lashes. "do you want me to be following you, sugar?"

you hummed, noncommittal, some harmony between the fluorescent lights above, the whir of the fridges the next isle over. you turned back to the shelving, resumed your survey of the contents. "your brother offered his kitchen for me to use while he's out tonight," you said, not looking at him.

"did he?" trevor mused, an almost undetectable bite in his tone.

you nodded, eyes alight with excitement. "been eating pancakes and chicken noodle soup for weeks now," you said, referring to what the line cooks sent you home with. "swear my mouth's watering just thinking about something different." you ran a thumb along your bottom lip, as if checking for spit.

if you had been looking at trevor, you would have see his shallow swallow, the way his eyes tracked your movement, how his gaze hung from your mouth like lacy ribbon. he cleared his throat.

you finally located the vinegar you wanted, on the very top shelf. pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, you reached the tips of your fingers for the bottle, only just out of reach.

trevor only chuckled as he grabbed the bottle easily, took the basket from your hip and into his own hand, dropping the vinegar into it.

"i can carry that, you know," you said, suddenly wishing you had something to do with your hands.

"i know," he said, smug.

you rolled your eyes, huffed a thank you, anyways.

"so, what're you making?" he asked as you led him from aisle to aisle, loading your basket with ingredients.

you explained to him how, in college, this one salad had been your absolute favorite to make when you needed something that made you feel good. something about the combination of arugula, kale, chickpeas, sweet potato, whatever other vegetables you had on hand, sometimes chicken, if you were feeling fancy, something about the simple dressing of oil and vinegar - it was perfect. no meal left you feeling as good as this one did.

and it was how you had made it entirely on your own, too - it wasn't some fancy steak dinner your ex had buttered you up with after a fight, it wasn't boxed brownies shared with your old best friend the night before you found out - no, this was all you.

when you looked back at trevor, there was something molten in his gaze. "sounds amazing," he said, low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear.

you tilted your head, let your smile slant across you face, scrunched up your nose, teasing. "would you want to join me for dinner, trevor?"

his face split into a grin. "i would," he said, "i would want to, please."

and so you found yourself fumbling around someone else's kitchen with an audience, washing kale and peeling sweet potatoes with fingers that twitched towards the figure across the counter, practically irritated that they weren't touching him.

you scolded your hands to behave, which became easier as the night went on, as conversation flowed like cranberry juice, the flavor of it lingering in your mouth just the same.

he might ask you about how the diner was going, to which you would look around as if to make sure no one was there. his eyes would flash. you would miss this.

"harry's been making some real progress in precalc," you would say from behind your hand, speaking of the host, whom you had come to view very fondly. "and you didn't hear it from me, but i think he's going to ask his friend jason to the school dance next weekend."

you would be flushed with excitement and pride, and trevor wouldn't be able to get much beyond that, honestly, the way it lit you up from the inside out.

but then he would clear his throat, and lean forward on his hands, and tell you that if harry needed help asking jason to the dance, he knew exactly the best crew for the job.

"don't tell me you're talking about your rag-tag group of misfits," you would say, cocking a brow as you dressed the kale and arugula.

and he would feign offense, place a broad hand over his heart. "i'll have you know that this group of misfits went 16/16 in high school dance invitations," he would say. "all four of us, all four years."

you might roll your eyes. "real band of heartbreakers, were you?" you would say.

and laughter would shine behind his eyes like christmas tree lights behind store windows, and he would stretch his arms above his head, lazily, comfortably. "'course not," he would say, his voice the sort of raspy that comes with stretching, "only alex."

and this would pull a real laugh from you, as you tossed everything together, the kind of laugh that rung in his ears, that made him pleasantly dizzy.

as the night passed on, time moving altogether too fast and the kind of slow that oozes, you would learn about how he grew up in this town, how he went to trade school, how he had had the same friends his entire life. you would ask questions about if he ever felt the desire to leave (not really), how he got into manual labor (he never really felt like he was that good at anything else), what his family was like (close, but not overbearingly so).

and, in turn, between bites and sips and laughs, you would tell him about how you grew up (humbly), what school was like (hard, but rewarding), how you ended up here (cheap housing, good job, close community). and maybe you would actually tell him about the ultimate betrayal you had faced before you left, why that made you want to be somewhere, anywhere else, somewhere where you had no choice but to make a life entirely for yourself.

at the mention of your ex his jaw might clench, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. he would mutter something about nonsense, and you would smile.

he would ask questions about your family (just your dad and you), your favorite parts of your life here (hikes with bridget, homework sessions with harry, bickering with old man peters).

and he would pout, at that, his bottom lip looking so positively delicious it stole your breath. "'m not your favorite, sugar?" he would plead, joking.

maybe you would really look in his eyes, then, find something hot, tilt your head. "you wanna be?" you would ask, breathier than you intended.

and he would smirk, somehow flipping the dynamic on its head entirely with only a single expression. "you know i do, sugar," he would tell you, low and so loaded you would blush.

it might scare you how easily you let him in, how quickly you were warming up to him. his pretty face might scare you, because pretty faces had hurt you before. there had been no one prettier than your old best friend, after all, and look how that turned out.

so, when the night grew viscous, and the meal was long over, the dishes done, a portion for griff packed up in tubberware on the counter, when he walked you upstairs to your room, both of your steps slow, reluctant, when his gaze lingered on your lips and the smell of him grew distracting, the height of him all-consuming, even then, even though you wanted to, you didn't kiss him. you only bid him a gentle goodnight.

"thank you for tonight," he would say, instead, looping his arms around your neck, hugging you close to his chest. this was so much worse, you thought, as you breathed him in, wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed. the way he held you like he was afraid what would happen if he let go. his hair so messy and his tone so genuine it almost hurt. "sweet dreams, sugar," he said into your hair before pulling away.

even though, that night, you might have dreamed about how his rough hands might feel as they held your soft cheek, how his chapped lips might slot against your glossed mouth. even if you woke up, that next morning, practically sweating. not the sweetest of dreams.

today was your day off. you had plans later with bridget, but you decided to book a haircut and blowout at the salon downtown, since you had the whole morning to yourself. the salon was one place you hadn't been in, yet, and you hadn't had a haircut in months, so you figured now was a good a time as any.

the bell above the door rang when you stepped inside, but no one seemed to notice over the shrill thrum of hair dryers, sinks, and the steady stream of gossip that you appeared to have walked in on.

"she told me her trevor went on a date, julia," one of the stylists said seriously, her eyes expressive as she sectioned her client's head of long curls. "won't stop rambling on and on about her, she says."

your heart jumped in your chest at trevor's name, sunk accordingly. he had been on a date? you weren't sure why you had assumed you were the only girl in his life at the moment, but it stung, nonetheless. you pulled at a thread on your long sleeve, eyes down.

you can't be upset, you told yourself, don't you dare be disappointed-

"oh, honey, how long you been waiting?" one of the stylists called out, making her way over to you and the front desk. "swear you have to throw somethin' at one of us when you come in or we'll never stop talking." she had such an easy way of speaking, a comfortable posture, a genuine face.

"sorry," you said, looking around, still recovering from what you'd overhead.

she just waved you off with a smile. "it's us motormouths who should be apologizing," she said before introducing herself as ginger. "now, what name is your appointment under?"

you told ginger your name, and as soon as you did, her eyes sailed up to meet yours again, wide and bright. she snapped her fingers, getting the room's attention. "you're the doll who stole our baby trevor's heart!"

you blushed furiously, felt the words in your mouth twist and tangle like a toddler's hair. "me? no, that can't be right," you said. there's no way last night counted as a date, you thought. there's no way he's talking about me.

the other stylist just squealed as you were led to a chair. "of course it's you! look at her, julia," she said to the woman in her chair, practically elated, "what a treasure!"

your blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"that boy's been talkin' to 's mama 'bout you, honey," julia said from her chair, her expression knowing. "he's just about smitten, she says."

"and a mother always knows," ginger said, emphasizing her words with hairbrush gestures.

so you spent your appointment getting a couple inches off, hearing about the trouble trevor used to get in when he was younger (apparently alex used to be the biggest troublemaker, though), hearing about how trevor just went around fixing whatever anyone needed fixing.

"swear that sweet boy wouldn't charge a dime if this town'd let him," ginger said as she worked long layers into your hair, "we have to sneak payment into his pockets, and even then he tries to give it back!"

your cheeks burned, your heart heavy with affection as she blew out your hair, leaving it soft and smooth. you paid, said goodbye for about ten minutes, found out just how hard it was to escape salon conversation.

"now go show off for our baby, honey!" someone called out the door after you, making you laugh. you guessed that all the stereotypes about small town hair salons were true.

you went on your weekly hike with bridget, who gave you that understated grin when she saw you. "looking good," she said, bumping her shoulder into yours. "trev doesn't stand a chance."

you rolled your eyes. "didn't get my hair cut for him."

she laughed. "i know," she responded, "but all anyone can talk about this morning is your date last night."

you couldn't help but scoff good-naturedly. "i can't believe people already know about this," you said, "it was literally last night, and it wasn't even a date."

she waved you off. "nobody cares about the logistics. even my girl was moping to me about it. she's got a little crush on her skating instructor."

"trevor teaches your daughter how to skate?" you asked, having never heard of this.

she nodded. "he's the highlight of her week," she said, her eyes soft, picturing her daughter's unabashed smile.

"get in line," you mumbled, covering your face with your hands.

why was everyone so intent on revealing adorable information about trevor to you today? didn't they know he already took up enough of your daily headspace?

"can't somebody tell me he hates animals, or something? or that he's really pretentious about art? or that he has, like, some weird fetish?"

bridget laughed. "sorry, babe," she said, "he's the town's sweetheart."

you were still reeling with all of this information when you got back to the inn, your face rosy from the outside chill, your body pleasantly awake from your walk.

you began up the stairs, humming to yourself, ready to collapse onto your bed, maybe catch up on some reading.

"you followin' me, sugar?"

you looked up, immediately, feeling your pulse in your neck, in your teeth.

there he was, of course, there he was, painting the railing in the stairwell, the sharp smell of paint faint in the air.

all dirtied up from the day, that slouch that only appeared in the late afternoon, that crinkly smile, all of it made him almost too good to be real.

"maybe," you said, like second nature now, after all those times before, his face forcing a tiny smile from your mouth.

you stood just in front of him now, held your breath as he reached up, twirled a strand of your hair around a finger. he let out a low whistle you felt in your stomach.

"lookin' awful pretty tonight," he said, not much more than a whisper as he thumbed the soft ends of your freshly-cut hair.

his words settled like thick caramel on your tongue. "thank you," you mustered, your mind spinning with all of the wonderful things you had heard about him, today.

he bent down to one knee in front of you as you collected your thoughts. "um, what are you doing?" you said, strained, dumb.

he looked up at you through those girlish lashes, smirk heavy on his perfect face. he tugged your foot closer to him. "shoe's untied," he said, gesturing to your sneaker. "may i?"

you blinked at him before nodding, because what alternate universe was this? you tried to imagine any other man you'd known willingly getting on the floor for you, just to tie your shoe. you couldn't.

he tightened your laces with nimble hands.

you cleared your throat. "heard something funny today from the ladies at the salon," you told him, trying to focus on something other than his proximity.

he hummed. "nothin' good, i'll bet," he mused, "ginger loves a good story."

"it was a good story," you said, reveled in the way his expression softened, giving you the courage to press on. he began to tie a double knot. "'bout how you're tellin' your mom we went on a date."

he pulled the bow tight, looked up a you for a second, a guilty, childish grin on his face, caught red-handed. you extended a hand to him, helped him back to his feet.

"oh, yeah," he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall, easy, comfortable. "like how you asked me to dinner, and then cooked for me, and how it 100% was a date-"

you laughed, shook your head. "it was not!" you said, "i never said it was a date!"

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "call it wishful thinking, then, sugar."

and you couldn't focus too much on what he meant by that, so you just shook your head again. "you're too much," you said, wanting it to come out teasing, but instead there was a breathy sort of desperation behind it.

"yeah?" he asked, that smirk present as ever. you had grown so close to him without realizing it, now just a step away. him leaning back against the wall, you right in front of him, looking up at him.

you nodded, swallowed, your blood hot, your skin prickly, alive.

his eyes fixed you in place, teasing. "too much for you, sugar? can't take it?"

you bit your lip to stop any sound from escaping you, because everything seemed entirely too loud, then. you could hear your heartbeat, you swore you could hear his, the radiator could have been screaming at you. you didn't dare think about just how much you wanted to take.

to stop yourself from doing something much more serious, you simply reached your hand forward, swiped at a spot of paint on his face with your thumb.

your touch against his brow bone felt like an exhale, like melting wax. you could feel his warm breath on your hand as you pulled it back, but then he was looking at you, like that, like you were so, so special, like he would have doused his face in paint just to have your hands wipe it all away, and were you imagining the way his gaze grew fiery?

"trev! old man peters says his sink's still leaking!"

griff's voice rattled down the stairwell, smothering the flames in your eyes, if only just. just enough to break the spell, to pull away, to tell him you'd see him tomorrow for his coffee break, for his hungry gaze to follow you up the stairs until you were out of sight.

and so the routine continued, more butterscotch candies slipped into aprons, more pestering his friends, more slyly asking bridget what she thought about matt (she was deflecting, you'd observed, delighted). more helping with homework and reading in bed and cooking and snapping at old man peters to stop leaving his watch behind.

more stolen touches and longing glances and sideways smiles, backwards hats and work gloves stuffed in pockets, damp hair sticking to your neck, the hem of your skirt brushing against your thigh. more flame and softness and sweetness drenching your frame as he said hello, and goodbye, and sweet dreams, and anything else. that coil inside of you twisted tighter and tighter as you wondered what exactly was holding you back, what exactly you were waiting for.

one day, after work, there was a knock at your door. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit disappointed when you opened it.

"you coming?" griff said, "town hall meeting starts in 5."

you scrunched up your nose. "town hall? what, is it required?"

he smiled, kind. "no, but they're usually a good time," he said, "and trevor's going to be there."

you had your jacket in your hand already. "he's not the reason i'm coming," you said, following him out the door and down the street.

"i won't tell anyone," was all griff replied, his smile understanding and gentle.

you had never been to a town hall meeting before. you'd guessed that the closest thing you could imagine was a student government meeting, which you'd been a part of in college.

this seemed much more laid back, though, taking place in the middle school gymnasium. it looked like almost everyone from town was here. you noticed old man peters, sitting with bridget, her daughter buzzing around from person to person. the salon ladies were talking to pretty much everybody. there was harry, sitting next to his mom. you approached bridget as griff went up to talk to the fire chief, one of his close friends.

soon enough, the meeting began, the first issue on the docket being the prospect of a stoplight on the intersection of drysdale avenue and york street.

bridget yawned, "same issue every meeting," she whispered to you. "always divided down the middle." this time was no different, you observed, the parents in the crowd seemed completely for the stoplight, the older crowd significantly against.

"next issue, a write in from the community, quote," the representative began, reading from notecards, "should the implementation of the 'dibs' rule be observed seriously, unquote." he cleared his throat, looked up to the crowd. "thoughts?"

you stifled an embarrassed laugh, held your face in your hands as bridget rubbed soothing circles in your back. "is this actually a real-life discussion topic?" you asked, incredulous.

"just let them have their fun," she whispered in a way that made her smile evident.

"i think 'dibs' is outdated and juvenile," a woman said, "sets a bad example for the kids."

the man up front was taking notes.

"i think it's cute," bridget piped up from her chair.

"me, too!" her daughter giggled, jumping into her lap.

"alright, i've got two for cute, one for bad influence," the man said, "anyone else?"

"i think it's lame," a very matt-like voice said, gruff, short.

"one for lame," the scribe said aloud.

"well, i think you're lame," that goofy drawl called out, making you pull your head up, look around until you spotted him, near the front. he was swatting matt on the back of the head. "and i learned it from alex, so take it up with him."

his curly-haired friend hid a smirk. "it's a high school move," he explained to the crowd, before turning to face trevor. "we haven't done it in years."

"until now," trevor amended, "but you guys understand. you've seen her. you've talked to her."

ginger put her hand over her heart as if swooning.

someone coughed. your face was burning up. bridget nudged you gently.

"she's here, trev," griff said, to which the fire chief let out a hearty laugh.

"really?" he turned to face the crowd, his voice excited, hopeful, searching. "where are you, sugar?"

you raised your hand, of all things, immediately wanted to smack yourself. "hey," you said, mousy.

"hey," he parroted, mocking, but of course not maliciously. his smile broke you apart.

and then you were having a conversation with several rows of people in chairs between you, on a gymnasium floor.

"you're the only one with the dibs curse on you," he said, "so what's your take on it? should we abolish the practice for good? is it outdated?"

you swallowed, were looking only at him as the scribe sat at the front, pen at the ready. "well," you began, "it works, from what i can tell." his smile put you together again. "so it can't be that outdated."

his eyes shone, only for you. "you heard her," he said, "case closed."

"are we actually still talking about this?" old man peters asked, to bridget, but much too loudly.

the rest of the meeting passed, absolutely delivering on laughs and nonsense, as promised.

"last thing before we go," the man said, "does everyone have a ride to the away game tomorrow?"

you leaned over to bridget. "what's that?"

"the rec hockey team is away this weekend," she whispered.

"rec hockey?" you said, confused, "like kids?"

she shook her head. "like kids, yes, but not kids."

"sugar, do you have a ride?" trevor's voice rang clear against the mumbled chatter of the room.

you looked up, met his eyes again. "uh, i don't think i'm going?" you said.

there was a collective gasp, followed by silence. your eyes widened. "babe," bridget whisper-screamed at you. "everyone goes."

you cleared your throat, realizing your grave error. "well, then i don't have a ride."

"you can ride with me, honey," ginger said, sweetly, with a warning in her eye.

"trevor has to go super early since he's playing," bridget whispered from next to you. you nodded, signaling that you had heard her.

"thank you!" you called out.

rides were sorted, the meeting ended, everyone saying their goodbyes, folding chairs scraping against the waxy floor. trevor and his friends caught up with you and bridget on your way out.

trevor slung a heavy arm around your shoulders that you couldn't help but lean into. he smelled like sawdust and something citrusy. "i didn't know you played hockey," you said, looking up at him curiously, not letting yourself ruminate on how good he felt slotted against your side.

he shrugged.

bridget scoffed. "he's good, too," she said, "i hate to pump his tires, but only the best teacher for my baby girl." she pressed a kiss to the cheek of her smiley daughter, whom she had hoisted up onto her hip. "all of them play," she said, a vague gesture to the group. "lit it up in high school."

"not all of them are as good, though," trevor said, which caused some annoyed groans.

"what about heartbreaker alex, over here?" you teased.

"heartbreaker alex has grown up since junior year," alex said, soft spoken. "and it's not my fault my hair looks like this."

the shortest friend of the group, cole, the one with the loudest laugh, whom you had come to rely upon for book recommendations, put a hand in line with his brow bone, as if blocking out the sun to search for something.

"what are you doing?" alex asked.

"oh, me?" cole said, "just looking for all the girls you must be getting, since you've still got all that hair."

alex rolled his eyes, the group laughed.

"what about you, matt?" you asked as trevor held open the door, all of you stepping out into the night air. "i've heard the team's got a perfect record for dance invites. any high school stories?"

matt didn't say anything for a second, but bridget laughed. "you're really telling people that, trev, as if i didn't ask him freshman year?" she nodded towards matt, who was actually blushing, you thought, but the dark made it hard to tell. "was a tough sell, eh? he was so quiet when i asked i thought he pretending that i wasn't there."

"oh, we remember," cole said, tone alight with understanding. "funny how we grow up, but so much stays the sa-" he blew out a breath when matt elbowed him in the gut.

you smiled to yourself. "i'll see all of you tomorrow, for the game, then?" you said, the inn now steps away.

goodbyes rang out, and you made to remove yourself from trevor's embrace, but he only spun you back into his chest, pulling you close, his arms now wrapped around your back, your nose against his breastbone. you breathed in, melted into him, squeezed him back.

"did you mean it?" he said, soft, so only you would hear him.

you mumbled your confusion into his chest.

"when you said it was working? did you mean it?"

your heart jumped, his words so vulnerable you couldn't look at him. "i meant it," you whispered into his bright shirt. "you're working on me, trevor." you felt his lips brush against your hair, featherlight, before he let you go.

"sweet dreams, sugar," he said, and you walked back to your room with wobbly legs and an overactive heart.

the following day, ginger graciously gave you a ride to the next town over. she, of course, chatted you up the entire time, which you welcomed.

"i know i must be super late to the party here," you said, carefully, picking at your nails, "but what's the story behind bridget and matt?"

ginger tsked. "we're a bad influence on you, honey," she said, taking a right. "you're gonna be a big mouth like me in no time."

you laughed. "it's only 'cause matt's so obvious about it," you told her, "they've known each other forever, and i learned yesterday that she asked him to their freshman dance." you trailed off, hoping that ginger would take your cue.

she nodded, smiled fondly. "our bridget was always such a spitfire," she said, "always going for what she wanted. smart as a whip, too, but you know that."

you nodded. you did.

"and she could have had anyone, but she wanted our matthew, and he wasn't a sight for sore eyes then, like he is now."

is matt good-looking? you'd thought to yourself. you surely hadn't noticed. perhaps you were distracted. perhaps your gaze always wandered.

"but bridget marched right up, asked him to the dance, and the poor boy was so stunned it took him a full minute to say yes." she shook her head, lost in the memory.

"did they ever date, like for real?" you asked, enraptured.

she frowned. "no, i don't think so, at least. bridget was always bouncing around flings, trying out guys for a few weeks, then cuttin' 'em loose." her smile grew wistful. "then she had her darling girl, middle of senior year. dad booked it, never looked back. don't think she's been with anyone since."

you frowned, too, hating the thought of someone abandoning your friend, as lovely and wonderful as she was. what a privilege it would be to be a part of her family.

"and matt?" you asked, as the car pulled into the parking lot. you ran your palms up and down your jeans.

ginger whistled. "that boy's been starry-eyed over her since grade five," she said, "but me and the girls aren't surprised he thinks he doesn't have a shot. his self-esteem's never been the highest, not like the rest of 'em."

"not like cole, who swears he could land a plane, if it came around to it?" you said, grinning.

ginger laughed. "exactly. and not like alex, who was never without a girlfriend, and not like your trevor, who's never needed anyone to tell him how great he is."

you sucked on your teeth. "but we do, anyways," you reminded her.

"that we do, honey," she finished, putting the car in park. "let's go cheer on those knuckleheads, shall we?"

the rink was colder than you thought it would be. the walls were practically made of aluminum foil. you wrapped your arms around yourself, blew out a foggy breath, followed ginger to the away section, absolutely packed with everyone you recognized.

as you settled into the stands, your eyes immediately searched for trevor.

"he's number 11," bridget said, coming to stand next to you.

you rolled your eyes. "and what number is matt?"

she shoved you, playfully, but when spoke, it was bashful. "12," she said. "cole's 22 and alex is 39. police chief is 8, fireman spence is the goalie, and griff is the ref."

you furrowed your brow. "isn't that a conflict of interest?" you asked.

she huffed in a laugh. "if anything, it's a disadvantage for us."

the game started, and you realized very early on that maybe trevor hadn't been lying when he said not all of them are as good. he practically flew around the ice, graceful, mesmerizing. and it was obvious that he wasn't looking to show off, either, that he was just playing to have fun, and if he really wanted to, he could run the scoresheet up into oblivion.

you could feel bridget smile beside you. "yeah," she sighed. "it's pretty crazy."

"he could play professionally," you breathed.

she shrugged. "he's happy," she said simply.

cole scored twice, the other team clawed their way back in. griff threw alex in the box for boarding, which old man peters, even with his granddaughter in his lap, would not let go, keeping a one-man ref, you suck! chant going long after the power play was over.

"does he know it's griff?" you asked bridget.

"of course he does," she said. "he'll buy him a beer after this."

such was small town life, you supposed.

in the end, fireman spence made some crucial saves, keeping it tied late into the third. with about a minute left, trevor made an unreal, practically magical pass to matt, who finished it off in a one-timer that sunk into the back of the net.

the crowd erupted. you and bridget jumped up and down, holding each other as the goal horn sounded.

the team went through the line in celebration, then skating by the away section before the next face off.

trevor blew you a kiss. you shook your head at him, but couldn't wipe the smile off of your face.

the game ended in a win, and the town migrated over to the local bar. you busied yourself with harry's mom, telling her that no, she had nothing to worry about, yes, harry was quiet, but he was kind as anything, and that was most important.

everyone cheered when the team walked in. you clapped along with them, feeling a smile tug at your lips as soon as your eyes locked on trevor.

his eyes found yours immediately, that lazy grin following as he squeezed past people to get to you.

you met him halfway, a hazy neon light over your heads, making color dance in his eyes like starlight. his long hair was damp, curly at the ends in a way that made you want to reach up and tug at them.

"speechless, eh, sug?" he teased, shrugging one shoulder with exaggerated arrogance. "i know, my play tends to evoke that reaction from people. i-"

you scrunched your mouth to the side, smacked him lightly in the chest. "god forbid i try to think of something nice to say to you," you said, smiling. you made to pull you hand back, but his warm, wide palm came up to cover it, holding it against his chest.

you exhaled, looked up at him, unsure.

"what was your favorite part?" he asked, those shining eyes careful. "did you like cole's between-the-legs? or maybe my last assist?" he winked. "always a crowd favorite."

suddenly confidence welled up inside of you, a vault. but we tell him anyways, you had said. that we do.

tell him, the overhead lights whispered.

"when you blew me a kiss," you said, reaching your free hand up to cup his jaw, textured under your touch from his five-o'clock-shadow. "that was my favorite part."

flame crept into his gaze abruptly, suddenly, shockingly. he settled his other hand on your hip, pulled you closer to him, his grip making your breath catch. "was it?" there was a roughness to his voice that felt tangible.

you nodded slowly, speaking to his mouth. you weren't scared. you weren't running. you weren't stalling. your skin was humming, your blood felt hot. he was so perfect against you, his hand over yours somehow the most intimate touch you could remember.

he ducked his head to yours, just a breath away, so you could see the gold in his eyes. "let me do you one better," he rasped, waiting for your single nod before finally crushing his mouth to yours in a kiss that felt like early sunrises, slow and meaningful and only the beginning.

you pushed up onto your tiptoes, looped both of your arms around his neck, tugging him closer, closer, as he kept one hand on your hip, the other grasping the back of your neck, keeping you from collapsing into him.

kissing your ex had felt almost robotic, scientific, stiff in an endearing way at best, stiff in an awkward way in reality.

there was nothing stiff about this, nothing scientific about him. this was all feeling, all malleable, all calloused hands and chapped lips. he kissed like someone who had to work for it, like someone who didn't have to prove anything to you but wanted to, anyways.

just that was enough for you to sigh against him, the fact that there were other people around the only thing stifling your soft moan.

he smiled into your mouth, like a low-spoken secret between the two of you. "taste like butterscotch," he mumbled against your lips, pulling away only just enough to make sure his words didn't disappear unheard down your throat, almost drowsily. "you like those candies i give you, sugar?"

your chest rose and fell against his. the low music in the background roared in your ears, the neon light making him look like some stained glass thing worth kneeling for. "like 'em because you leave 'em for me," you said, your fingertips tracing the top of his spine.

his eyes shimmered. "can i tell you something?"

you nodded.

he hummed, gave a guilty sort of smile. "gave 'em to you because i didn't like the taste of 'em," he started, smirk growing wider. "and i wanted to convince myself to hold off on kissin' you. not to rush you, you know."

you understood, and your swollen lips quirked at the story, but your eyes flashed with something like hurt. "you don't like the way i taste, trevor?" even if it was his own doing, you suddenly wanted to brush your teeth.

"that's the thing." he ran a steady thumb along your hairline. "think my plan backfired, 'cause butterscotch's my new favorite flavor." his thumb reached your chin, tilting it up to his mouth again. "can't get enough of it," he murmured, a man possessed, barely audible as he kissed you again, this time with a softness that cut like a dagger.

you swore your head was still spinning the next day. what was supposed to be just another shift at the diner quickly turned into a flurry of questions, of neighbors looking for a side of gossip with their french toast, of line cooks swearing there was something different about you.

it was hard to answer anyone, to do anything, honestly, when it felt like you were floating, like your head was far, far away, up in the clouds.

harry gave you a fist bump when he saw you. old man peters told you in a stern tone that public bars were no place for fornication, to which an ecstatic bridget patted his shoulder and reminded him that it was only a (sort of) innocent kiss.

she pulled all the details out of you, lit up as you flushed and stumbled over your memories.

the police chief made some joke about that boy being a bad influence when you accidentally brought him whole milk instead of soy milk for his coffee.

ginger and the girls were like some insatiable beast that only let you be when you reminded them that if they kept you much longer, the diner would go hungry.

of course, your heart instinctively fluttered when that tell-tale gust of loud laughter burst through the door, along with the drag of heavy work boots, the shuffling of canvas outerwear, the shoving of gloves into back pockets.

you made your way to the table with their regular pot of coffee, met trevor's dancing gaze almost sheepishly.

"morning, guys," you said, smiling at all of them.

they chimed their chorus of good mornings, pouring their coffee into mugs themselves, as they always insisted on.

"so, what's new?" cole asked, his head resting on his fists. "probably nothing, right?"

alex and matt hid their laughs.

you rolled your eyes, smiled nonetheless. trevor had a hat on, today, making his hair curl out from the bottom of the brim. you tucked a curling lock behind his ear, ran your nails soothingly along the hair at the nape of his neck.

anyone watching would have seen the way his gaze melted like milk chocolate, how his shoulders softened, his posture relaxing completely into your small touch.

he looked up at you, eyes so soaked in affection it spilled down his face like mascara-stained tears. "i missed you," he said.

his friends groaned, as if they'd heard this a million times. suddenly, with a blush, you had a guess as to what his morning had been like. perhaps he had been just as distracted as you.

"i missed you, too," you said, because it was the truth.

"he almost dropped a crate on my foot this morning," matt said, bitterly.

you put a hand over your heart. "how tragic." you looked up, making eye contact with your friend across the diner. "hey, bridge! matt almost hurt his foot this morning. has science found a cure for that, yet?"

she huffed a laugh as she approached, shook her head at matt when she stood in front of the table. she held the back of her hand to his forehead, as if checking for a fever. "are you sure you're okay, sweet boy? this sounds serious," she joked.

matt had paled. trevor pulled you into his lap and you hid your laugh in his collarbone.

"'m fine," matt bit out, to which bridget smiled.

"thank god, that was close," she said. her gaze wandered, landed on something out the window. she squinted. "did somebody dig up some of the flowers outside?" she asked.

"dig?" alex mused, "maybe rip is a better word, eh, trev?"

"right. almost forgot." trevor held you in his lap with one hand, reached the other to the side. suddenly several flowers were being held in front of you, thin, spidery roots still intact. "sugar, will you go to the valentine's day skate with me?"

you smiled, wide and toothy, touched one hand to his face as the other grasped the humble, earthy bouquet. "of course i will, handsome," you said, "what's the valentine's day skate?"

"pta event, tomorrow," bridget said, looking on with interest. "whole town shows up."

"this town shows up for everything," you replied.

she smiled fondly. "heart-shaped balloons and fruit punch and ice skates. what's not to love?"

you turned your neck to look back up at trevor. "'m honored to have been on the receiving end of one of your famous invitations," you teased, "even if it's not for a dance." his delight rumbled into your shoulders, the back of your thighs, firm and warm.

cole yawned, stretched. "duty calls, fellas," he said, making to get up.

you reluctantly pushed up from trevor's lap, quickly pouring his untouched mug into a to-go cup. the team filed out with their typical string of thank yous and goodbyes, matt's extra glance at bridget met with a returning smile.

then it was you and trevor, as the morning break always ended, like clockwork, like a bedtime story that was comforting in its predictability. he tucked a bill in your apron, several candies, the weight of them alone making you smile.

"did i tell you how pretty you look today?" he told you.

"no," you mused, your hands clasped behind your back, shifting on your feet.

he hummed. "so pretty, sugar, never been so nervous to ask someone out," he admitted, that smug smile lazy across his face.

you tilted your head. "don't be nervous," you told him. "you're the easiest yes i've ever had."

at your words he ducked his wide shoulders down to you, flipped his hat backwards on his head so as not to impede you in any way, kissed you with a rough palm on your soft face, your hands still behind your back as you met him up on your toes.

a different kiss, one so lovely, still, soft and beautiful, drenched in daylight.

would your head ever stop spinning, when it came to him? would you ever come down from the clouds, again? even if you did, would there not be cumulus tufts in your hair, wisps of cirrus in your lashes?

he was proving it difficult, especially that next day, the fourteenth of february.

you had the morning to yourself, existing slowly and methodically, reading and running errands, finally starting to get ready for your date in the late afternoon.

before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, just as you had swung your jacket on. you swung it open to find him leaning against the doorframe, the picture of ease, shoulders drooping the way they always did after a working morning.

"ready to go?" you asked, making to close the door behind you before pressing up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. he caught your face in a hand before you could, though, steering your lips towards his mouth instead. you laughed against his lips. "greedy," you taunted, pulling away, letting yourself lean into his warm side.

"got no idea, sugar," he admitted, voice twinged with a day of speaking. you walked together to the high school ice skating rink, only a few minutes away, the brisk february air biting at your nose, your ears. you caught up on the morning, what book you had finished, how annoying ginger's husband was being about the state of his rain gutters.

when you entered the rink, finally, pushing forward the old doors, you couldn't help but smile, and trevor couldn't help but watch you.

everyone was here, of course they were. balloons hung from the top of the glass, streamers decorating every archway and spare inch. a massive table of themed refreshments was just next to the bleachers.

it looked like something out a ninety's film, mixed with the unique small town charm and wintery love you had come to know so personally.

you and trevor quickly got your skates on, all lingering touches and knowing smiles, and headed for the ice.

you were shaky at first, but his hands were so tight on yours, you knew there wasn't a chance he would let you fall. he spun you around the rink easily, twirling you like a ballroom dance floor, ever the show-off, anything to make you laugh.

"hey, harry!" you called out, at one point, noticing your host-friend helping a taller, skinner kid his age onto the ice. he waved, his eyes glittery in a way you recognized. is that jason? you mouthed. harry nodded, smiled shyly. you gave him an impressed thumbs up, trevor whistled.

you asked trevor how he got into hockey, watched how his mind waltzed behind his eyes when he talked about outdoor rinks with his friends in elementary school, how even piled-on scarves and hats and puffer jackets didn't stop that flying feeling.

significance would gather in your stomach, butterflies morphing into something much more serious, the kind of flame you'd find in a living room fireplace, in the hearts of teenage lovers.

you skated by cole, scooping up the snow he had made with quick starts and stops, and alex, whose neck was becoming the new home of said snow.

alex grunted, immediately breaking into stride to catch a fleeing cole, whose bright and clear laugh echoed under the roof like church bells.

the fire and police departments had started a relay race, ginger and her girls had formed a circle close to the hot chocolate.

old man peters held his sleeping granddaughter in his lap, bouncing his knee gently, both of their smiles blissful.

trevor's hand found your far hip, pulling you into his warm side. you sighed, looked up at him as you let your fingers trace along his jaw.

"touchy today, sugar, hm?" he said into your hair, a rumble to his tone that told you he liked it.

you hummed, nodded. "you just look so..." you trailed off, in thought, thinking about what, exactly, you meant to say. he looked what? practically edible? like an ocean you wanted to drown in?

how could you tell him you'd been avoiding looking at his hands, for fear you'd blurt something out about wanting them around your neck?

you just swallowed, cleared your throat. his smirk was a flash of teeth.

"you feelin' okay?" he cooed. "should i take you home?"

you found yourself nodding, even though you hadn't been at the rink for long.

"yeah?" he mocked, taunting, his hand on your hip suddenly firm, burning.

bridget's laugh cut through the sizzling air like a stream of cold hose water. you both turned to look at where she now sat, having obviously fallen onto the ice. she peered up at matt through her blonde bangs. "some teacher you are," she laughed, "i knew trev was the right choice for my girl's lessons."

matt shook his head, a barely-there smile on his thin lips. he offered her a hand, steadily helped her to her feet, an almost undetectable shake in his breathing as bridget grabbed onto his forearm for extra stability. "alright, smart ass," he mused, "no help for you, then."

he made to drop her hands, to leave her on her own, but she latched onto him tighter. "yeah right," she said, "you're not going anywhere, sweet boy."

cole's laugh sparkled at matt's flush.

you and trevor were already on the way out, bidding your short goodbyes, half-assed excuses about not feeling well given and taken with knowing eye-rolls.

he walked you back to the inn, up the stairs, his hands on you ever-so-distracting, his voice a careless rasp, your heart beating heavy in your chest.

you finally made it to your closed door, your back against it as he looked down at you with that heated gaze, his frame boxing you in.

"well, get some rest, sugar," he said, slowly, smiling. "since you're not feeling well." he twirled a strand of your hair around a finger.

you sputtered. "what? trevor-"

his eyes widened in mock-surprise. "oh, is there something you want?" he asked.

you clutched at his shirt with your fist, pulled. "please."

"please, what, sugar?" he asked, so smug you wanted to punch him. "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"

"you," you whined, but that wasn't enough.

"oh, is that it?" he drawled, ducking his head down to you, so close, but not close enough, not even a little.

you worked your jaw, so frustrated. "just," you tried, "just please, touch me, trevor, i just wanna feel you."

he smiled, held the side of your face in his palm. "am touchin' you, sugar," he said, "tellin' me this isn't enough?"

you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, groaned at his feigned confusion. "shut up," you breathed, his mouth an inch from yours.

"make me," he bit back, and then you were kissing him. you swore your lips would be charred, later, as if in proof. you reached a hand behind you, twisted open your door, while the other rooted in his hair, tugged him inside your room as he moaned against your lips.

one of his hands grasped the back of your neck, the other a bruising grip in your side, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees felt the blunt edge of the bed.

you barely registered as he reached under you, flipped you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he sat down on the comforter, far too caught up in this kiss, somehow still so different from ones you has shared before. so charged you felt the air might combust at any second, that, despite his relentless repairs, there was no way this inn could withstand the way he was kissing you, now. surely, the roof would cave in under the weight of your want, water would sear straight through the pressurized pipes.

he smiled against your mouth when you started to rock your hips back and forth across his lap, just so desperate for something, anything.

your exhales came out short, little pants as you reveled in the little friction you were getting against his firm thigh, covered in his heavy work pants, nothing close to what you really wanted, but something, at least.

mercifully, he moved your clothes aside, rocked you more forcefully, making the sensation practically blissful. you dropped your heavy head to his neck, moaned into it.

"oh, sugar," he cooed, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "so greedy for it, hm?"

you nodded into his neck, the tough texture combined with the heavy weight of his thigh catching you in just the right spot, urging a whimper from your throat.

"makin' a mess of me, yeah? could cum just from my thigh?" he said, almost like he felt sorry for you, but you could hear the smile in his voice. you bit down gently on the space between his neck and shoulder, your small retaliation, smiled at his groan.

you slowed your rhythm, picked your head up, let your chest rise and fall as you looked at him in the face, searched his eyes.

his face was slightly flushed, his eyes only just a bit glassy, but he looked at you like you were a wonder, like some divine power had made her way into his lap.

you pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth, loved the way you could feel his smile crinkle and widen under your lips.

"please, trevor," you whispered, your touch so soft around his neck. "please just give me what i want."

you shifted on his lap until you felt him, hard and hot and heavy underneath you. his voice came out with a strain. "anything, sugar," he told you, "just tell me."

you lifted your hips up, could feel how wet you were, could tell you had probably left a trace of yourself on his pants. "wanna cum on your cock, trevor," you breathed, couldn't help your sly grin when he immediately began to tug his clothes aside. "please, please let me. i know i'm so greedy-"

he was nodding like he understood as he angled your hips up higher, shifted you so that you sat right above him as he pumped himself up and down, once, twice, so obviously ready for you. "you are, sugar," he said, so eager it almost sounded like a whine, "but i'll give you anything you want, swear it." his hands found your hips. "just promise you'll only be greedy for me, hm?"

you sank down onto him with a nodded promise, bit your lip at the slow, scorching pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulled at your middle, that you felt in your toes. you blinked, trying to get used to the sensation, trying to muffle the groan in your mouth.

"fuck," he moaned, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like you might float away if he let go, "all the way, sugar, 'atta girl." you huffed a short breath when he was all the way in.

words felt far away, suspended in bubbles that whirled around your head.

"speechless, eh?" he teased, and you had a sense of deja vu. "don't worry, sugar. common re-"

and you could have growled at him for alluding to the fact that other girls had felt this, that there were other people in the world who knew what this felt like, so you fitted a delicate hand over his mouth and rolled your hips up and back on him until he was the speechless one, moans falling from his mouth, his brow pinched in pleasure.

"don't worry," you breathed, your mouth an inch from his ear. "common reaction."

you began to move your hips up and down faster as the stretch gave way to something dizzyingly good, as he began to thrust back up into you. so hard and fast, but he held you like something precious. his rhythm built until your mouth fell open, until sweat shone on the high points of his face, until time melted away, until you were reminded of what you'd mistaken him for when you'd first seen him, all that time ago - some ancient sculpture. a work of art.

he cursed as your clit caught on his pubic bone, the friction so overwhelming, and you clenched down on him. "give it to me, sugar," he said, but the strain in his voice made it sound like a plea. "fuck, let me hear you, yeah?" his tone grew gentle. "been wantin' to hear you for so long."

you tightened around him further at his small admission, let your nails rake down his neck, probably a little too hard. he grunted, thrusted harder, shifted you closer to him.

you moaned his name at the new angle, one you felt in the tips of your ears, your hairline, your tongue.

you were so close, so impossibly almost there. "please make me cum," you whined, "please, need you so bad." your exhale was practically pained as you ran your fingers over the red marks on his neck your nails had left. "don't i deserve it, baby?"

he grunted, and it was different. you felt his stomach and thighs clench, his hips sputter as his head spun with the fact that you'd gone right to begging him, skipped the asking part. he pressed his hand to your lower stomach, let his thumb catch against your clit, sending you over the edge in moments. "'course you deserve it, sugar," he rasped, gravelly, in your ear as you rode out your high, his thrusts growing wild. "been so good."

you clenched down on him, forcing his own orgasm, fast and all-consuming, the smell of him everywhere, mixed with your perfume. your exhales were warm and heavy, transparent clouds that settled on the floor of your room, making it every bit the dreamland it had become in your mind.

he held you so close to him as he pulled you to his chest, leaned you both back on your bed. you stared up at the ceiling.

about time, one of the tiles whispered, holding a crisp fiver.

couldn't have waited another week? the losing tile muttered bitterly.

you smiled as his rough hand found your face, tilted it towards him. he was smiling. your stomach fluttered as you felt your own mouth pull wider.

"what?" he asked, his voice rough, drowsy with use.

you shook your head. "nothing," you said, "just you." your eyes crinkled under the weight of your happiness. "i'm callin' dibs on you."

his eyes lit up as he pulled you in for another kiss, slow and overflowing with meaning. he hummed. "butterscotch," he whispered against your mouth. "my favorite."

fin.

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holy-puckslibrary · 2 months

Text

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months

Text

Kink List With Jamie Drysdale

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's all smiles and warmth. He loves caring for the person he's been with – making sure you’re hydrated, fed, and maybe even cuddling up for a nap together if it’s been a long session. He just feels so good and warm inside after being with you.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is definitely his legs – He has long, toned legs that he loves to show off. As for a partner, he really loves your eyes. He finds it so enticing and powerful to look into your eyes during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He usually releases inside of you when you're engaged in lovemaking. He prefers this method as it gives him the opportunity to truly connect with you in a deep and intimate way, while also being satisfying and fulfilling for both of.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a very kinky side that only a select few know about. He enjoys exploring new things in the bedroom and he has a weakness for power play and light dom/sub dynamics. Even though he's a top athlete, he likes feeling powerless and vulnerable at times, so it's exciting for him to experiment with that in bed.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I would say he's pretty experienced in the bedroom. He really enjoys sex, and likes to experiment and try new things. He's had his fair share of experience and he's confident in his skills. But, he's always open to learning more and improving himself. He believes that good sex is all about communication and being comfortable with you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Generally speaking, he's a pretty open-minded person when it comes to sex positions. He enjoys switching things up and exploring different avenues of pleasure. Some other favorite positions of his include prone bone, doggystyle, and modified doggy.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

More serious at the moment, but he can certainly add some humor if the situation calls for it. He likes to make sure that you are nothing but comfortable and he can lighten the mood by saying something playful or funny if needed.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes perfectly, he likes to keep himself well-groomed and maintained down there, and always makes sure everything is clean and tidy before he gets into bed with anyone.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's very much a romantic person at the moment. He loves to hold hands and kiss, he loves to whisper words of affirmation and how much he cares for you and wants you to feel good. He loves to make eye contact and have intimate conversations, he loves the physical closeness and connection. He loves giving attention and affection, it's definitely one of his strongest traits.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He likes to imagine different scenarios and scenarios with himself or you in order to stimulate his imagination and create an experience if you can't help him out.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a pretty kinky and open-minded person, and he's always open to exploring new things in the bedroom. One of his favorite kinks is definitely being dominant in bed, and he also enjoys incorporating elements of role-play and different power dynamics into his sexual fantasies.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere, he's not really picky about the location, as long as it's somewhere private and comfortable. Some of his favorite places include the bed, the couch, the shower, or even a little bit of outdoor adventure if you can convince him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A lot of things turn him on and get him going - He's a very sensual person, so he's easily aroused by physical touch and physical stimulation. He also really loves it when you are vocal, and he loves the sound of your voice, especially when you're expressing your pleasure. He also gets turned on by visual stimulants - seeing your body and seeing your face as you enjoy what he's doing is always a big turn-on for him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Something he wouldn’t do is engage in anything that involves harm or degrading treatment towards you or himself. I think that’s a pretty hard line for him, and he wouldn’t be able to do it even if it was your fetish. He’d also never want to do something that puts your health or safety at risk.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He's really versatile when it comes to giving or receiving, but he definitely leans more towards giving. He loves being the one who is controlling the action and delivering satisfaction to you. As for skill, he's definitely an enthusiastic and talented lover

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He's actually pretty adaptable – He can be fast and rough when the mood calls for it, but he's also really good at being slow and sensual. It really just depends on the mood and what you want at that moment. He's pretty good at reading people and reading the room, so he's pretty able to switch between these two modes and hit it right each time.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies can be hot and exciting, but he definitely prefers proper sex over quickies. Quickies are great for when you're in a hurry or just want to get each other off quickly, but when you have the time and space to explore each other more fully, it's such a different experience. He would never turn down a quickie, but he definitely prefers taking things at a slower pace and really enjoying the process and connecting with you on a deeper level.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's definitely game to experiment - He loves trying new things and pushing boundaries in the bedroom. He's always open to exploring different kinks and play styles, and he's always up for a bit of risk too.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

How many rounds he can go for and how long he lasts can vary a lot, depending on a bunch of factors like his energy level and how excited he is. But I'd say on average, can usually go for around 2-3 rounds, with each round lasting anywhere from 15-30 minutes.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He does own some toys - although he's not really an expert in that department. He definitely uses them on you, and sometimes on himself as well when he's away. In terms of using them on you, he usually incorporates them during foreplay to help you get warmed up or when you want to take things up a notch. For himself, he sometimes uses them to satisfy his own needs when he's feeling a bit more impatient.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. He really enjoys driving you wild with anticipation and letting you feel like you're slowly going crazy with desire. He loves being the one in control and seeing how much he can push you before you're really begging for him and desperate for release.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I'd say it really depends on the situation and the vibes you've got going on. If you were really turning him on and hitting that spot juuuust right, he can be pretty vocal and make some loud sounds. On the other hand, if you're going slower and taking your time, he might be a bit more subdued.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He really likes it when you tell him how good he is in bed. In a way, it's not that wild, but still, something about it just really drives him wild. It makes him feel so confident and empowered, and the way you say it - just with so much passion and desire - is such a turn-on for him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His cock is 7.5 inches long when fully erect, with a girth of around 4.5 inches at the base and a head that is always leaking precum when he's ready to go. It has a perfect curve and a thickness that only gets more impressive as it stiffens up. The glans are always covered in precum and have a deep vein running down its length. His cum is thick and white

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is actually pretty high, probably higher than average. He just really loves having that close, intimate connection with someone and experiencing all the feelings of pleasure that come with it. I'd say he has a pretty active sex life.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on the situation, but usually, after you've had sex, he likes to cuddle up with you and stay up for a little bit, just enjoying the closeness and the after-glow of the moment. He finds that it's a nice way to come down from the high of the experience and savor it before finally falling asleep.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl #philadelphia flyers #kink list

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zegrasdrysdale · 3 months

Note

we now need a fic of how Jamie reacts when you wear the Canada jersey👀👀

[ oh canada ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie finds his girlfriend in his Team Canada jersey and shows her what he thinks of her in it

warning(s) : smut ! slightly dom!jamie, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), pet names during sex

author’s note : ask and you shall receive anon (with canada’s loss in the quarterfinals at the wjc, i had just the idea for this request). this was also mostly written pre-jamie trade so … yeah

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It wasn’t long long after the horn before the first wave of notifications began rolling in.

WJC SHOCKER: Team Canada Loses to Czechia in the Quarterfinals

Team Canada went 3-1 During Preliminary Round; Loses to Czechs in Quarterfinal Match

Czechia is Moving On! Czechs Celebrate Shock Victory Over Reigning Champs

She isn’t from Canada and doesn’t quite understand why the entire hockey world goes crazy for the World Juniors tournament every year, but her boyfriend is from Canada and he played in the World Juniors tournament in 2021. He gets into it every year, and even places bets with his teammates that have played in the World Juniors, mostly Trevor and Mason though.

Jamie’s team lost to the US in 2021, and it was a rough loss for the entire team. He’s told her so many times that he wishes he was able to do more to help his team win.

She didn’t meet Jamie until after the tournament but he is always talking about it. She knows how much he loves the World Juniors, and she knows how much he hates watching Canada lose.

The idea doesn’t come to her until she’s digging through their closet to find something to wear to go out with her friends later that night. She finds Jamie’s Team Canada jersey in the back with his old Ducks jerseys.

A smirk forms on her lips as the idea slowly forms in her head. She grabs the jersey from the closet and a pair of lacey red panties from her underwear drawer and puts both of them on. She wears nothing but the panties under the jersey.

If Jamie comes home from watching the game with his teammates all mad that Canada lost to Czechia, he won’t be as soon as he sees her in his jersey with barely anything on underneath.

The game ended fifteen minutes ago so Jamie will be home any minute since he was just down the street at Trevor’s with Mason. She makes her way out to the kitchen to make some coffee since he was out early this morning for practice then went right to Trevor’s for the game.

She stands in the kitchen in front of the coffee machine when the front door opens. She hears Jamie’s voice before she sees him.

“No, Z,” he is saying. “I am not going to wear your jersey for arrivals at our next game. I never agreed to- um, we can argue about this later.”

Jamie must’ve seen her because he hangs up the phone really quickly. She turns her head and sees a flustered Jamie Drysdale standing behind her in front of the door. His eyes rake her entire body. Her bare legs and loose jersey that is too big on her. Her hair is in a bun on top of her head so his last name can clearly be seen.

“Hi, baby,” she happily says. “How was your morning? I heard about Canada’s loss.”

“Yeah, it was a rough, uh, loss,” Jamie stammers. “Um, is that my Canada jersey? Why are you wearing it?”

She finishes making Jamie a cup of coffee and walks over to him. His eyes widen when he sees the Team Canada logo on her belly. “I thought you might be a little upset about Canada losing so I wanted to surprise you,” she explains as she hands him the cup of coffee. “Are you surprised?”

Probably out of instinct, Jamie takes the coffee from her. His eyes are on the jersey on her body. “I’m definitely something,” he mumbles. “Jesus, (Y/N).”

The most innocent smile forms on her face. “Glad I was able to surprise you,” she says. “Do you want something to eat? Or did you eat at Trevor’s?”

“I was too stressed out to eat at Trevor’s,” he replies. “I can grab a snack or something later though. I’m a little tired between being up early for practice then yelling at Trevor’s TV.”

She shakes her head. “I can grab you something,” she tells him as she heads to the cabinet. “Do you want sweet or savory?”

(Y/N) reaches up to move things around to see what they have for snacks and feels the jersey ride up. Her ass is definitely exposed and Jamie probably has a nice view of the lace panties that are under the jersey.

There’s the sound of a mug being put down behind her then there’s a hand on her ass and a hand on her waist on top of the jersey. Jamie presses his entire body against hers.

“Did you actually wear this jersey to surprise me or did you wear this jersey because you wanted to get fucked?” he asks in her ear. “Because I’ll gladly bend you over the counter right now and give you what you want.”

She turns her head and meets Jamie’s eyes. There’s a fire behind them that she rarely ever sees — usually after a rough loss. His usually bright eyes are dark with lust.

With a moment of hesitation because she’s unsure what she’s going to start, (Y/N) softly says, “I always want to get fucked by you, but this was genuinely meant as a surprise. I always want you though. Counter or no counter. Jersey or no jersey. I want you."

Jamie processes what she said and blinks before he turns her around. His eyes drop to the jersey that practically swallows her. She doesn't understand how Jamie finds this attractive. It's big enough on her that she could get away with wearing it as a dress.

"You look so pretty in my jersey," Jamie tells her. His voice has dropped to a whisper. "The things I would do to you in this jersey."

"So do it and stop talking."

His lips are on hers as soon as the last word passes her lips. The kiss is rough and feverish as soon as their lips connect. She lets out a soft groan as Jamie presses himself completely against her. He slots a thigh between her legs and she has to refrain from grinding against it.

One of Jamie’s hands cups her jaw while the other is on her thigh. He lifts her leg up around his waist and she jumps onto the counter behind her without breaking the kiss. She grips the collar of his t-shirt and his hands slither up underneath the jersey.

He cups one of her breasts and groans when he realizes that she isn’t wearing a bra under the jersey. She swears she feels the bulge that’s resting against her thigh grows a bit at the realization.

When she smirks into the kiss that follows, Jamie nips at her bottom lip. She yelps in surprise but he quickly kisses it softly.

Jamie pushes the jersey up her body so she leans forward a bit so he can get it over her butt since she’s sitting on it. She laughs and wraps her arms around her boyfriend’s neck so she doesn’t fall.

The laugh is quickly cut off when he slides his fingers down her belly and into the waistband of her lace panties. She gasps when his fingers run through her already soaked folds. She spreads her legs wider for him without Jamie needing to ask.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on her for a second. She leans backward until her back collides with the wall behind her. Jamie bites his swollen lip and hooks his fingers in the waistband of her underwear. He pulls the lace off her body and throws it somewhere on the ground.

“Tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable,” Jamie reminds her. “You know I will.”

“Get your fingers inside me, Drysdale,” she replies. “I’m about to do it myself in about two seconds.”

“That would be kind of hot.”

“Jamie!”

He smiles before he slips one finger inside of her to start. She sighs and leans her head back against the wall. He slowly begins to pump that one finger inside of her, then he adds a second one seconds later.

Her legs are already shaking as Jamie fingers her closer to an orgasm. He places soft kisses on the inside of the bent knee. Her one foot is on the counter so Jamie has better access.

(Y/N) has to bite down on the collar of the jersey she’s wearing to stifle any noises.

That doesn’t last long.

“Nuh uh,” Jamie says as he pulls the fabric out from between her teeth. “I wanna hear you, baby. Let me hear those pretty sounds you always make when you come on my fingers.”

She whines and bites her bottom lip.

A third finger is added and she lets out a noise that doesn’t sound human. It’s like a moan and a yelp at the same time, but Jamie seems to love it. She has to resist covering her mouth with a hand because of how embarrassing that sound was.

Then Jamie begins to curl his fingers in a “come here” motion. She’s immediately done for without warning.

(Y/N) involuntarily rolls her hips against his fingers and cries out Jamie’s name repeatedly. If she slams the back of her head against the wall, she doesn’t notice because her entire body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Her vision goes completely white for a second before she comes down from her high.

The first thing she notices is how shaky her legs are. The second thing she notices is Jamie licking her come off of his fingers. “Fuck, Jamie,” she mumbles. He smiles and sends her a wink.

“Think you can stand?” he asks after a moment.

She slides off the counter very slowly and carefully just in case she’s unsteady on her feet. Jamie helps her until she’s sure she’s steady.

Then he turns her around and wraps one arm around her torso. She gasps when his lips attach to her neck right under her ear. “Gonna give you what you really want,” he mumbles into her skin. “Gonna bend you over this counter and give you my cock right here. Gonna fuck you in my jersey.”

Goosebumps rise on her body from his words. It’s so rare when Jamie speaks like this but she loves it.

“Please,” she sighs. “Jamie, please.”

He sucks a mark into the skin right under her ear before he bends her over the counter. The sound of a belt buckle rings throughout the kitchen before it hits the floor. There’s a zipper being unzipped and movement behind her before she finally feels the tip of Jamie’s dick run through her folds and already sensitive clit.

Jamie lifts the jersey up and kicks her feet apart. She sighs when she feels him begin to fill her up. “Fuck,” she groans. “Come on, Jamie.”

As soon as he bottoms out, he begins rolling his hips. His cock is moving slowly and deeply at first. Jamie doesn’t wait to pick up speed and intensity.

Soft noises come from both of them. She squeezes her eyes shut and Jamie grabs a handful of his jersey that rests on her body.

She finds herself thankful that Jamie has a hold of the jersey because she’s afraid she’s going to fall with how weak and shaky her legs are. There’s nothing for her to grasp on the counter so she’s fully trusting Jamie not to let her fall.

Jamie lifts one of her legs up onto the counter so he can get a new angle. “Holy fuck,” she cries out. “Baby.”

“I got you,” Jamie assures her. “I have you. Relax.”

She rests her forehead on the cool, smooth countertop. That’s probably the only thing keeping her from sweating at the moment. Her nails claw at something to grip but she finds nothing.

The familiar knot forms in the pit of her belly. It threatens to come undone every time Jamie thrusts into her. She can tell he’s close to with how sloppy his movements get.

(Y/N) looks back at Jamie and finds that he’s taken off his shirt. His chest glistens with a thin layer of sweat. She bites her lip and rests her cheek on the counter.

“Come inside me,” she croaks. “Wanna feel you come in me.”

Jamie lets out a soft whine. “You can’t just say that,” he breathes out.

“I want you to,” she tells him. “Make me come on your cock then come inside me. Please, baby. Want you to.”

Her words must really affect him because he’s shooting into her seconds later. His thrusts are slow and deep so it’s not long before she’s coming after him.

He slouches against her back and presses soft kisses to the swell of her ear. She smiles and stands up. He slips out of her and he grabs paper towels to clean her up as she spins around to face him.

Jamie throws the paper towels out and (Y/N) runs her fingers down his chest and over his abs. “I will never get enough of you,” she admits to him. “That was crazy and you’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably good, I hope,” Jamie replies with a smile. “It wasn’t too much?”

She shakes her head and captures his lips in a lazy kiss. “I might have to wear more of your old jerseys if it means getting bent over the nearest surface and fucked,” she mumbles.

He laughs and picks her up. She helps in surprise. “We’re going to bed and we aren’t getting up for a while,” he tells her as he walks down the hallway. “No phones either so if you have plans, cancel them now because I’m not done with you in this jersey yet.”

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382 notes · View notes

turcott3 · 2 months

Text

love language

jamie drysdale x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, smut!😝 (loss of v card, fingering, unprotected sex) fluff!!!!

positions fics masterlist

~teach me how to love you, i’m not learning what ain’t right~

another morning waking up in jamie’s spacious anaheim apartment was a strange feeling to you. you’d grown incredibly fond of him over the past few weeks of staying with him. you were just trying to get on your feet and were looking for a place of your own. trevor, a childhood friend of yours, introduced you to jamie some months ago and jamie was willing to help you while you sorted everything out with your move, trevor’s house being full and your urge to stay with that many guys was at a minimum, but jamie has a place to call his own which was something he always wanted and was willing to share his space with you.

“good morning.” jamie greets you from the couch with a mug of hot coffee.

“morning.” you reply rubbing your eyes and walking into the kitchen to make your morning coffee.

“i bought you a new bottle of creamer because i saw you were almost out.” he says once you open the fridge door.

“oh thank you.” you smile appreciating the small gesture.

“yeah you’re welcome, oh by the way, z, mase and leo are coming over tonight. we have like two days off so i figured you’d want to see them.” he says getting up off the couch and leaning on the tall counter.

“yeah that sounds awesome,” you smile taking a sip of your coffee, locking eyes with jamie. it was always hard for you not to stare for too long at his big, beautiful, blue doe eyes.

“great, i’m gonna get to cleaning the place.” he says drinking the last of his coffee and setting his mug in the sink.

“i’ll help?”

“no it’s okay, didn’t you say you had homework or something?” he says towering over you, standing a little too close.

“oh yeah, i do. we’ll just let me know if you need any help.” you say smiling awkwardly, exiting the kitchen with your coffee, quickly shutting the door behind you. you open your macbook trying to shake the funny feeling he left in your stomach during your short lived conversation in the kitchen. his proximity, his eye contact, his demeanor. it made you overthink, or so you thought.

“what the fuck?” you swear, blinking a few times after seeing how much time had past. it was already reaching 3 pm and you had spent the last 5 hours working on homework and an essay for your english class.

“i think i just got stuck in an alternate dimension, no way i was at my desk for five hours.” you say swinging your door open to jamie sitting on the couch watching tv.

“i didn’t want to interrupt you, when i opened your door you were locked in. i got you lunch tho, i put it in the microwave so it wouldn’t get too cold.”

“oh thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“well i felt like i should because you were drowning yourself in work and you needed to eat something.”

“i appreciate the gesture.” you say pulling the chipotle out of the microwave.

“they’ll be here at 5.” he says.

“okay, let me eat and shower and ill be out here.” you smile walking over to the couch to hug him, “ you’re the best.”

“yeah of course.” he says hugging you back gently. you took your meal into your room and ate it while you picked an outfit and let the shower warm up. right before you step in, your phone buzzes on the counter.

“hey z.” you say picking up.

“hey y/n, can’t wait to see you tonight. it’s been a while since we caught up.”

“yeah me too, i’ve missed you.”

“still a virgin y/n/n? i feel like it’s been long enough since i last checked in.” he asks.

“yes trevor, i told you that you’d be the first to know once i lost my virginity.”

“yep i’m waiting for that text that says ‘harmonica’.”

“oh yes, the code word.” i laugh.

“alright well i’ll let you go, ill see you at 5.”

“bye trev.”

“bye y/n.” he says, ending the line, finally allowing you to step into the shower. you longed for it to finally happen, you’re 20 how has it not yet? once you wrap up your shower you step out, flipping on your hairdryer, humming while you dried it almost completely. you slip on your leggings, throw on your crewneck and spray yourself generously with perfume. you walked back out into the bedroom and heard trevor’s familiar laugh. you slipped on your slippers and walked out into the living room, seeing all the boys sat at the table.

“y/n!” trevor says standing up and walking over to you, hugging you tightly.

“it’s good to see you too trevor.”you laugh as he lets you go. he brings you to the table where you sat directly across from jamie.

“wine anyone? mom got me a wine fridge and i just stocked it.” jamie says and presents a bottle of red wine proudly.

“sure.” you reply smiling, happy to see how proud he is of his wine fridge. he grabs you all glasses and pours one for each of you.

“cheers to being reunited.” mason says raising his glass and everyone following suit, jamie and i locking eyes for a brief moment before looking away, feeling occasional glances in my direction.

“how about some truth or dare?” trevor offers, setting his glass down.

“sure.” mason says with a smug smirk on his face.

“i’m in.” leo replies looking in your direction.

“yeah, yeah let’s play.” you say taking your last sip and setting your glass down.

“i’ll go first.” mason offers, “jamie, truth or dare?”

“truth?” he replies hesitantly.

“how many bottles of wine did you buy for that fridge yesterday?”

“seven.” he quickly replies.

“oh damn ok.” mason laughs, taking another sip.

“trevor, truth or dare?” jamie says turning to look at the clueless boy.

“dare.”

“call terry and tell him you still wanna walk his dog.”

“god, fine.” he says pulling his phone out and calling him.

“hey troy, what’s up?” he says followed by silence.

“yeah i was just calling to ask if i could walk your dog tomorrow? no? oh, okay. great, well thanks for the trust terry.” he laughs hanging up.

“tell you no?” leo asks.

“hahaha yeah.” he replies.

“it’s your turn.” you say cutting him off.

“jeez okay, y/n.” he says smirking looking at you.

“truth.” you say hoping it’s the safe route. trevor looks at you then looks at jamie, then to mason and leo before coming back to you.

“is it true that you’re still a virgin?” he asks with a smug look on his face, causing you to choke on your second sip of your new glass of wine.

“really dude?”

“it requires an answer.”

“yes trevor. i am still a fucking virgin.” i say, face flushing red now that jamie knows.

“alright your turn.” he smiles.

“last round. leo?”

“truth.”

“did you wanna get drafted by the ducks?”

“honestly…… no but i’m glad i am here now.”

“wow didn’t expect that one.” you say expecting a much more underwhelming reply. you finish your wine and rinse your glass out in the sink, finding your way to the couch leaving the boys at the table. they continue their conversation and you sit scrolling through your phone, thinking it would be rude to go to your room with guests over.

j: you good?

y/n: yeah i’m fine

j: okay, talk later?

y/n: sure

you reply one final time, turning on the tv and putting on a movie, distracting yourself from the elephant in the room. not to long after the boys join you on the couch watching the movie as well. jamie sat close to you, arm draped around the back of the couch where you sat. no one said a word to each other for at last 30 minutes. you scoot closer to jamie, leaning your head on his shoulder, eyes drooping with sleepiness. he rested his arm around your shoulder snuggly, his thumb gently caressing your arm.

“boys i think it’s time we head out.” mason declares standing up. it had been a few hours and it was starting to get late.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” jamie says fist bumping them all as they filed out of the apartment. he olaced his arm back around me, this time more snuggly and boldly.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing his thumb in your bicep.

“yeah i’m just embarrassed. he always finds a way.” you admit to the brunette.

“he has a way of rubbing people the wrong way, i’m so sorry y/n.” he replies honestly.

“yeah he does.” you sigh

“so is it true?”

“is what true?” you ask fearing his question.

“are you actually a virgin?”

“yes, i am.” you sigh, embarrassed all over again.

“i mean is there like a reason why?”

“jamie i’m 20, there’s obviously not a good reason. i mean no one’s ever wanted me like that or been attracted to me in that way.” you say picking at your cuticles.

“that’s crazy.”

“what?”

“how has no one been attracted to you in that way?” he repeats and i turn to look at him.

“i mean they just haven’t.”

“they’re crazy.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you looked at you?”

“well yeah but-“

“no buts, come here.” jamie says moving you onto his lap, your hands locking behind his neck.

“what are you doing?”

“giving you the attention you deserve.” he smiles, pulling your chin to his, pressing a short kiss to your lips, sending butterflies through your stomach, leaving an anxious look on your face.

“jamie-“ you start.

“if you don’t want to do anything with me, tell me now and i’ll stop.” he says interrupting you.

“no it’s not that i don’t want to do anything with you, i’m just scared.”

“why are you scared y/n? tell me.” he replies, pushing strands of hair behind your ears.

“i’ve never felt beautiful like other girls so maybe ive just been afraid to ever put myself out there. that’s why im scared. that im not good enough.” you admit to him, never even wanting to admit that to yourself.

“well you should put yourself out there. sure there’s “beauty standards” but who gives a fuck? look at you. you’re so beautiful.” he says with his hands placed delicately on your waist.

“it’s just hard.”

“i’ll make sure you know how beautiful you are love, i promise.” he says running his hand lightly up and down your thigh.

“okay.” you say caving into his words. you grab onto his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss again. this time trying to assert yourself, showing him the direction you want the kiss to go. he puts his arms beneath you, picking you up bridal style, carrying you to his bedroom. a place you’d only entered a handful of times. delicately, he places you on the bed, removing his shirt and climbing over you, reconnecting your lips once again. you began to feel more comfortable, even thought him being shirtless was intimidating to you, you never realized just how toned he actually was.

“you’re so fucking fit jamie.” you say as he backs away to look at you.

“don’t make this about me honey, this night is all about you.” he says running his hands up your legs to the waistband of you leggings in which he assists you in removing. he tosses them in his hamper, clearly having no intentions of giving them back tonight.

“if i need to slow down or stop please tell me.” he says staring down at you, our faces mere inches apart.

“okay.” you reply, face turning rose. he connects your lips once more before assisting you shimmy out of your crewneck which you wore no bra under.

“no bra around the boys? bold move.” he giggles taking your breasts into his hands and kissing you as your hand found their way around his neck. he pulls away standing up again, removing his sweatpants leaving him only in his boxers. delicately, he runs his middle finger over your soaked core on top of the fabric of your lace thong.

“wow so wet huh?” he smirks.

“can’t help it, just want you.” you say boldly, encouraging him more. carefully, he removes your underwear tossing it aside as he runs two fingers through your folds. you were unsure what you were feeling, but knowing it was good was enough. suddenly he finds a sweet spot, kicking your feelings into high gear, unleashing a moan you’d never heard from yourself.

“oh my god jamie.” you say and he giggles.

“you like that?”

“yes fuck yes.” you huff out, never wanting the feeling to end.

“what about,” he pauses, inserting one finger into you, “now?”

you jump at the sensation, it doesn’t hurt too bad but definitely doesn’t feel great.

“a little uncomfortable but not bad, you can keep going.”

“okay.” he says beginning to slide his second finger in, causing a sting.

“okay that hurts a little bit.”

“well good thing i decided to do this first.” he smiles leaning up to kiss you, moving his fingers in and out of you carefully. it still felt weird but you didn’t want to get off on his fingers so you decided to let him go until you felt good enough.

“jamie?” you say opening your eyes and he lifts his head off your shoulder.

“mhm?”

“i’m ready.” you say and he removes his fingers, sucking them clean.

“are you sure baby, like 100% sure?”

“i’m 100% sure.” you reply.

“okay,” he says kissing you once again. he pulls down his boxers allowing his dick to spring free, your eyes directing right to its leaking tip. anxiety trying its best to hold off as he pulls you closer to him as he kneels on the bed, running his tip through you folds just the way his fingers had.

“tell me when it’s too much.” he says pushing in the tip warning a hiss from you.

“you okay?” he asks and you simply nod. he pushes in a little further, feeling your walls stretch out.

“okay wait stop for a sec please.” you say pressing your hands to his chest.

“whatever you need.” he says stopping abruptly. you nod signaling for him to continue and you even hold on and let him bottom out.

“god you’re so big, i feel so full.”

“you’re doing amazing baby.” he says kissing you sweetly on the lips trying to distract you from the sensation you felt between your legs. he retracts his hips slowly and carefully not wanting to hurt you before pushing back in at the same speed, gritting your teeth, trying to find pleasure in this sensation.

“you okay?” he asks.

“yeah i’m okay.” you reply and he continues, the discomfort finally beginning to subside.

“you feel so good around me y/n, so fucking good.” he smiles kissing you passionately. this thrust into you changed everything, pleasure washed over your body quickly, pushing a moan out of your throat.

“there it is, that’s my girl.” he smiles, thrusting a little faster and deeper.

“fuck jamie, that feels so good.” you say wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as his chain hung in your face, hair covering his. he continues his paces, brushing your sweet spot with every thrust, tightening around him.

“you gonna come for me baby?” he asks and you nod quickly, releasing the built up pressure that had built in your abdomen.

“fuck.” you say, the sensation making your legs shake.

“fuck i’m getting close.” he says, his thrusts getting sloppier and pulling out spurting his warm seed onto your stomach. quickly, he runs into the bathroom so wet a rag and wipe your stomach clean before throwing the rag in the hamper and going back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“jamie?” you ask. no answer. the feeling of regret beginning to rise in your chest. you grab your crewneck and underwear off the floor and, prepare to leave the room and lock yourself away.

“jamie?” you say again, tears threatening to form in your eyes.

“sorry i had to pee and then i had to answer an email i forgot abo- why do you have those?” he stops mid explanation.

“oh i uh, i figured you weren’t gonna come back out so i was just gonna go back to my room. i’ll hopefully have a place soon so i can get out of your hair.” you reply, scratching your head wondering why you even did this, “i’ll just go ahead and leave now.” you say starting to stand up and he stops you.

“woah woah no stop, did you really think i was gonna just dip after that?” he asks stepping in front of you, grabbing onto your arms.

“well….. kind of.”

“no baby, you’ve got it all wrong, come here.” he says climbing back into bed pulling you to his chest instantly.

“what do i have wrong?” you ask, placing your chin on his chest.

“do you honestly think i just had sex with you so you’d lose your virginity and stop being embarrassed by it?” he asks rubbing your back softly.

“that’s kinda what i assumed once you shut the bathroom.”

“well that’s not what happened and i’m so sorry i did that, i couldn’t have picked a worse time to remember i had an email to answer, anyways, the truth is that i like you, and i have for a long time. you’re beautiful, funny and smart. you’re you and i literally cannot get enough of it.” he says smiling locking eyes with you.

“wow, you like me?”

“yes i do, a fucking lot. i had sex with you because i wanted to and it felt so special being your first. guess i couldn’t pass up the chance.” he chuckles.

“it was amazing jamie, i don’t think i could’ve asked for a better first.” you reply, smiling from ear to ear.

“of course my love, you were so amazing, it seemed so natural to you.” he pauses, “also i want you to stay.”

“stay? what do you mean?”

“like i don’t want you to find an apartment for yourself, please just stay, i love having you here.”

“jamie you don’t have to-“

“i’m offering, it will save you a lot of money and i love your company. please stay.”

“okay i will if you want me to. i just don’t want to inhibit your space.” you say picking at your nails

“you won’t be don’t worry. and besides, we may sleep together eventually if we really truly to give us a chance, but you still have your own room when you need space.” he says.

“i- did you mean like share a bed with you?”

“i mean eventually if you want to share we could, no pressure at all.”

“well i guess we could give this a go couldn’t we.” you nod, sitting up on his lap looking down at him.

“if you’d like to give it a go, i would also like that… quite a lot actually.” he laughs and you lean down to kiss him.

“is that you asking me out?”

“more so asking you to be my girlfriend.”

“wow popped the question so soon.” you teased.

“i know we’ve only had like this night but having you around has made me so crazy about you.” he says scooting back to sit up a bit, keeping you on his lap, placing his hands on your waist.

“hey i’m joking babe, i would love to be your spontaneous girlfriend jamie.” you laugh, smiling widely.

“thank god.” he says, his arms wrapping around you and kissing you passionately. the rest of your night was filled with the pleasures of exploring your romantic connection. you talked, you cuddled, you started a new tv show, you fucked, you made out. you used one night to make up for all the time you spent living together, unknowingly pining for each others affection. eventually, the two of you fell asleep entangled in each other, completely obsessed with one another. you woke up the next morning to jamie pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“good morning my love.” he says talking into your cheek before kissing your it a few more times.

“good morning jamie.” you laugh opening your eyes to face him, allowing yourself to get lost in his gorgeous eyes.

“i slept so good.” he giggles.

“oh yeah, best sleep ever.” you giggle wrapping your arms around him and kissing him on the lips.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale smut #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #turcs’ talk

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