#him in his fucking knicks crewneck

[killthefuhkinglights]

girl you better put that tongue away or else

stills from The Hirs Collective’s new mv for their song Trust The Process ft. Frank Iero and Rosie Richeson! find it here on youtube

#gway pussy #frank iero #frank #the hirs collective #istg #him in his fucking knicks crewneck #i hate him jesus christ #watch out man your days are numbered #i’m gonna bet that he’s just in his fucking backyard singing along to send the video for the mv

[toplinetommy]

You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Eight) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, poorly written smut

a/n: here’s a link to the song in the second part, which is essentially the inspiration behind this love story (even tho his entire discography played a part). there’s one more part after this plus the epilogue! again, thank you for reading along :)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

September 2019 - Denver, CO

You can see it on his face. Tyson’s clearly trying not to panic, and you’re kind of unsure why. He was fine the first two hours you were over at his house, helping him pack. But now, he’s folded and unfolded the same crewneck sweatshirt at least eight times and you’re about to yank it out of his hands and tell him that you’ll just do it. 

His room was a mess. His large set of hard-shell suitcases open and scattered on the floor, a pile of garment bags on his bed filled with his suits, and a box collecting his random knick-knacks by his bathroom door. His alternative playlist was playing through the speakers on his laptop that sat on his bed, filling the periodic silence between you two. You were both sitting criss-cross applesauce on his floor, packing up his dresser, when you decided to finally cut in.

“Tyson,” you call out. “You doing okay there? You’ve been folding the same sweater for five minutes.”

He folds the sweater one more time before finally placing it in his suitcase, “I’m fine.”

Your heart sinks a little and your lips form a pout at his mumbling, knowing instantly it was just him not wanting to talk. Your hands stop folding the pair of jeans in your hands and you drop them to your folded legs. You sit up, bringing yourself to your knees, and crawl over to kneel behind Tyson’s sitting figure. 

“Hey,” you whisper, wrapping one arm around his torso and resting your head on the back of his shoulder. You run a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp and twirling some of his curls through your fingers. Tyson leans back into you, taking in the extra weight you’re putting onto him. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just anxious. I’ve never lived by myself before,” he admits. “I’m excited, but still.”

“It’s all a part of growing up,” you sigh. He’s probably already heard that statement from his family members and even guys on the team, but you knew that when you heard that, it helped. “Besides, don’t the older guys always check in on the younger guys when they start living on their own?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Tys. Living on your own is refreshing, trust me. You’ll find out so many new things about yourself and it’s not like you’ll be by yourself 24/7. Especially with how social you are,” you reassure with a smile as you rub his shoulders. You could tell he was nervous prior to packing. Every time he had called you to talk about a new place he found over the summer he just rambled and nit-picked the place apart. His pros and cons list looked more like a maybe and a no list by the time he finally settled on the Cherry Creek apartment. 

“Can we take a break? I think it’d ease my mind a bit.” He asks, gesturing to the mess in front of him. 

“Sure.” You twist your body around Tyson’s. “Only if I can have a kiss.”

Tyson playfully scoffs and rolls his eyes before leaning in and placing a smiley kiss on your lips. The kiss is quick, and you pull away to stand, pulling him up with you. 

“You want to figure out plans for dinner? I don’t know about you but this packing is making me hungry,” Tyson says, changing the subject.

You two end up deciding on getting sushi from your favorite place, a spot where you knew the owners by name at this point. You spend the time sharing your favorite stories from the Rookie House, Tyson not missing a chance to chirp JT about his Fortnite addiction. Your favorite memory being the one time you and Tyson were in the living room and Kerfy and his girlfriend had set off the smoke detectors while trying to cook.

“I think my best memory was move-in day,” Tyson swallows. He grabs another piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “I was on cloud nine knowing that I had made the team and then I crossed the street to go meet my neighbor and I just about shit my pants when you walked in.”

A strangled cough comes out of your mouth in response to Tyson’s statement. You grab your drink next to you and try to swallow down the remnants of your food that you’ve swallowed incorrectly.

“Actually,” Tyson ponders, changing his mind. “That might not be my favorite memory, but it definitely led to a fuck ton of my favorite memories.”

Your stomach churns at the thought and you turn your head to look at Tyson. He’s not even looking at you and is focused on the container of sushi in front of him. Your eyes water and you blink at the thought of all of his favorite memories in this house over the past two years all stemmed from you. More specifically, stemmed from the off-chance that the two of you even reconnected in the first place. You smile softly, blinking away the tears in your eyes, setting your chopsticks down and tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention. 

He turns to look at you, and the expression on his face shows that he doesn’t even fully understand the weight those words had as he spoke them to you. Looking into his eyes, it hits you. This was fate. Tyson Jost sitting in front of you was the universe’s doing. All of the comments you got since meeting Tyson flow through your mind as you stare into his eyes silently. One sticking out more than the others.

I knew you two would somehow find each other

“What?” Tyson asks, breaking you from your thoughts. He’s chewing the last bit of his sushi roll, and you bring your thumb up to wipe at the soy sauce that gathered in his mustache. 

“Nothing, nothing,” You shrug. “Just really happy is all.” You turn your attention back to your sushi, finishing the last few pieces before Tyson’s up and throwing away the containers.

Once he makes his way back over to you, he pulls you into his chest, placing a kiss on your lips. 

“Your breath smells like seaweed,” you chirp against his lips.

“Are you gonna stop kissing me because of it?” He asks, pulling away slightly.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” He laughs, pulling your face back to his to reconnect his lips with yours. His lips move along yours softly, your hands moving against the expanse of his chest as he moves his hands along your torso until one lands on the side of your face. The hand on your waist finds its way underneath your t-shirt, squeezing the bare flesh lightly. He’s pulling you tighter against his body, crowding you around the counter behind you. As the kiss deepens, his groin brushes against your pelvis, causing a growing heat in your stomach and between your legs. You twist your hands under the cotton of his shirt to feel the warmth of his back.

“So now that we’re moving out you’re gonna start making out with people in the kitchen?” 

A voice, you recognize as JT makes you pull away. You drop your forehead to Tyson’s shoulder before lifting it back up. You give JT a tight-lipped smile, heat rising to your cheeks. His jaw drops open and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead before he stutters over his next words,

“Oh. Hey, y/n.”

“Hey, JT.”

He disappeared up the stairs just as fast as he entered the house.

“Sorry, I thought he had already finished moving to his new place,” Tyson apologizes, pushing a hand through your hair.

“Does he know anything about what’s going on between us?” You ask, sheepishly. 

“Uh, yeah,” he responds, scratching at the back of his head. “I might’ve called him a few days after you left Canada to tell him and get advice.”

“And what did he say?”

“That’s a secret.”

You playfully shove at his chest and he stumbles backward. “Fine. Let’s get a move on this packing. We’re almost done.”

You playfully slap at Tyson’s ass before pushing him towards the stairs, a task made difficult by the brunette due to his size and unwillingness to move. After a few more shoves and the promise of a kiss, he’s finally heading down the stairs so he can finish packing up the remainder of his clothes.

--

“Hey,” you shout as you walk through the front door of Tysons’ apartment, announcing your presence. Tyson’s sitting on his couch, watching something on the tv. “I texted Kacey and-“

“Wait. You texted my sister?” Tyson asks a hint of awe and confusion in his tone.

“Yes, but that’s not the point. I texted your sister for your grandma’s almond butter cookie recipe and now I’m here because I thought we could bake them together.” You had known he had already started to miss St. Albert even after only being gone for a little over a week. This was the first time you really got a taste of what an NHL off-season was like and when you were in Kelowna, you could start to fathom how hard it was for Tyson to leave home every summer. The least you could do was help make that transition a little easier for him.

Tyson joins you shortly as he watches you fill the contents of your canvas grocery bag onto his kitchen island. He picks up the jar of almond butter before setting it back down. 

“You know I don’t bake.”

“There’s always time to learn, Tys,” you state. “And now’s a perfect time!”

A laugh slips out of Tyson’s mouth at your eagerness. He goes quiet after, thinking back to the comment you first made about how you texted his sister. His heart swells at the thought of it, at the thought of you and his sister possibly becoming friends. His heart swells, even more, knowing that Kacey didn’t really have an older female influence in her life that wasn’t their mom or a relative, or even her teammates at school. He wants to ask you how often you talk to her, but he decides against it, not wanting to intrude.

The last thing you pull out is a plastic mixing bowl and utensils to properly make the cookies. Tyson laughs at the extra tools, to which you reply with a scoff,

“I literally helped you move, I know you don’t have the things to bake.”

He throws his hands up in defense before poking at your side, causing you to squeal. You slap his hands away, telling him to focus. The two of you get through making the cookie dough pretty easily, as Tyson was attentive to your directions for once. It’s moreso you mixing the ingredients together as Tyson hands you what you need while he tells you about the start of training camp. You let him press the almonds on the tops of each cookie and you hop up onto the counter as he puts them into the oven. 

“I have a question to ask you,” Tyson announces as he shuts the oven door.

“Shoot,” you answer.

“So every year in November we have the Mile High Dreams Gala. It’s this huge charity event all of the Denver sports teams host,” he starts, moving to stand in between your open legs. He places his hands on your thighs, rubbing his thumbs softly over the exposed skin. “And I know it’s not for another two months, but I’d love for you to come with me.”

“Like one where you wear a nice suit and I wear a fancy dress?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah one like that,” he chuckles. 

You ponder the idea for a minute, puckering your lips in thought. “On one condition, you come with me to the Dermot Kennedy concert in a few weeks.”

“I thought you and Caitlyn were going?” He asked, confused.

“She was supposed to, yeah, but Jack’s brother is getting married that weekend.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna need to start shopping for a new dress then,” Tyson smiles.

A comfortable silence falls around the both of you as you scrape your finger on the side of the mixing bowl, picking up the remnants of the raw cookie dough before plopping it into your mouth. 

His thumbs continue to rub small circles on your thighs before he breaks the silence, “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” you start, hesitantly. When Tyson usually wanted to talk to you about something specific, he usually just came right out and said it. The fact that he’s asking you first makes you avoid his gaze, and you look at the small, potted plant behind him that’s sitting on his tv stand in the distance. You swallow thickly, trying your best to suppress the burst of anxiety coursing through your veins. 

“You asked me the other day if JT knew about what was going on between us, and he does, but -” Tyson takes a deep breath, stopping himself. His thumbs stop moving on your thighs, and you grab his hands in hopes of giving him comfort. “But, I’m not even sure what’s going on between us. You came to Canada, and I don’t know, there was just this huge shift between us and we haven’t really talked about it. I know I’ve only been back for a week and it’s always a hectic first few weeks back for me-”

“Tys, you’re rambling,” you interrupt. “Take a breath.”

“I really don’t know how to talk about it because it’s so new and intense. You’re my best friend and I don’t know how to even talk about taking it further or even how, really.”

“I don’t really know either,” you admit, playing with his fingers where they’re joined with yours. “But I really like this and it doesn’t even feel that different than before.”

“I do know that this is what I want. I want to sit here and talk about the universe with you. I want you to help me prank my friends and for you to tell me when I’m being immature. And at the same time, I want to be there to tell you when you need to let loose and be the one you go to about work even though I don’t understand a thing that comes out of your mouth when you do,” he explains. His nervousness seems to be gone as he focuses on your reaction. It was a lot for him to come out and admit these things, and you know that. 

As he spoke, the feelings you felt from the last day at his old house came flooding back. The man in front of you was fate, and he clearly felt that you were put in his life for a reason as well. All of the little things with him like napping, cooking, going to his games, and the bigger things like meeting his family, and spending time with him outside of Denver really meant just as much to him as it did to you. You’re finally starting to see it and the way he’s talking to you has perfectly mirrored his previous actions. 

“Tyson,” you start, your voice cracking. You take a deep breath and sniffle, holding yourself back from letting any tears out. Tyson lets go of your hands quickly, bringing his up to your face, grasping your cheeks.

“Hey,” he says leveling his head with yours to get better direct eye contact. “What we’re not gonna do is cry.”

“You can’t say things like that to me and not expect me to cry,” you sniff, a few tears escaping from the inner corners of your eyes. Tyson catches them before they can even leave mascara smudges. “Ever since you walked into that study room at school, you were all I wanted. I just wasn’t ready.”

Tyson looks at you in a questioning manner. You can see it in his eyes, he wants to ask you if you’re ready now, if you’re ready to dive head-first into being with him romantically. You lift one of your hands and place it on where his hand is still on your cheek. Looking at him, you feel the same way you think you’ve always felt about him-- a way you were too scared to admit to yourself, a way you sometimes even avoided feeling. However, in this moment,, you know you’re ready for more with him.

“I want you, in every way possible.”

Tyson leans further in, his hands still on either side of your face. The intensity combined with the softness of his gaze has your body feeling weightless, the warmth from his hands keeping you grounded. He leans in all the way, capturing your lips with his in a passionate, heated kiss. He slides his hands from where they were on your cheeks to the junction of your waist, pulling you to the edge of the counter and closer to him. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles and digging your heels into his ass, urging him to come impossibly closer. Your hands brush over the expanse of his chest, and up to the back of his neck, where you lightly scrape your nails. He bites at your lip, letting out a small moan when his groin brushes over your clothed center. Pushing your hands up his torso underneath his shirt, you tug on it letting him know you want him to take it off. He pulls away, just for enough time to peel his shirt off, before latching his lips right back on yours.

Your hands travel around his torso, your fingers dipping into the curves and definitions of his muscles. You’ve never felt so connected to someone with just kissing, and you’re trying to memorize where every line is on his toned torso because you never want to forget this feeling-- the feeling of pure elation and pure want deep in your bones.

His lips traveling down your jaw and to your neck pulls you from your thoughts. His lips kiss lightly against your warm skin, adding a coolness before he softly bites down when your neck meets your shoulder. 

“Tys, baby,” you moan out. He hums against you, not wanting to take his lips away from your skin. “We can’t keep doing this on kitchen counters.”

Your request has Tyson pulling away from you and he picks you up, hands squeezing at your ass as he walks you to his bedroom. When he drops you onto the bed, he crawls over you, eyes dark. You lick your lips as you look down his torso once more, fully being able to appreciate his athletic build with no shame for once. He smiles widely as he leans further in, reconnecting your lips.

His hand pushes your shirt up your torso, revealing your lacy bralette. He pulls one cup aside, exposing your hardening nipple before wrapping his lips around it. Your hips buck up at the feeling and when he pulls away to switch to the other nipple, you take the opportunity to pull your shirt off over your head. You’re lost in the scent of his shampoo, a combination of sage and lemon. Once he gives your nipples ample attention, he leaves a trail of kisses down your stomach, kissing above the waistband of your running shorts. Hooking his fingers under the material and his eyes flick to look at your face, making sure he has the okay before he’s pulling them off your legs.

“You need to tell me that you’re sure you want to do this,” Tyson breathes out heavily. “This is so much more than-”

“I know. I want this, I want you,” you interrupt, reassuring him of your intentions, running your hands through his curls. He smiles up at you, before dipping his head down between your thighs. The warmth of his breath combined with your view of him has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. 

His tongue peeks out of his mouth as he licks at his lips, looking up at you. His eyes focus back onto your center, and his tongue sticks back out again, this time licking a stripe up your folds. His hands rub along your thighs, pushing your knees to the bed, leaving more room for his torso. The heavy grip on your thighs disappears and you feel his thumb find your clit. The new pressure eclipses a moan from you as he fucks his tongue into you.

His thumb continues to rub your clit, your hips grinding up against his face to get as much friction from him as possible. His other hand comes to lay flat against your lower stomach, pushing your down to keep you from moving. He lifts his face up, thumb still on your clit.

“Stay still,” he demands, looking up at your face. You lift up to rest on your elbows, giving yourself a better view of Tyson’s head between your thighs and nod in understanding. Your eyes stay focused on him, as he looks back down at your pussy and lets spit drop out of his mouth. The action has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the cool sensation on your hot folds has you gasping and throwing your head back onto the pillow.

He spreads the wetness around, this time focusing his tongue’s movements on your clit. He pumps a finger into you, curling his finger to find your sweet spot. He adds another finger, and you focus on the wet sounds coming from your center.

“Tyson,” you whine, threading your fingers through his hair once again. Your grip tightens as you feel the familiar pressure start to build. Tyson groans against your clit and wraps his lips around the small bundle of nerves, bringing you to your high. He licks at your folds through your orgasm, only pulling away when your grip on his hair loosens. His lips are redder than normal and swollen and his beard is glistening from your juices. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand as he crawls back over you, setting some of his weight on your body as he kisses you.

As your lips move against him, a whine escapes your mouth when you feel the outline of his dick through his shorts. You reach your hand down to wrap your fingers around his clothed member, and Tyson moves one of his hands to push both his shorts and underwear off. 

“Fuck,” he curses against your mouth as he feels your thumb swipe against the tip of his cock. His hips buck into your hand, and you start to push at his chest to make him flip over onto his back. He’s hesitant to follow your movements, and you pull away from his lips,

“I wanna blow you,” you mumble against his lips.

“You can do it another time,” he asserts. “Just wanna be inside you.”

You nod, kissing down his jaw, sucking marks across his neck and shoulders. He leans up on his elbows, pulling away to grab at his nightstand.

“No, no condom. I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?” Tyson asks, hand still on his nightstand drawer. You nod your head yes, and he groans, presumably at the thought of him being inside you, bare. Finally, he crawls back over you, pushing one of your knees up into your chest. His lips leave yours, his forehead resting on yours. Gripping his member, he spreads his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness.

“Please,” you whine, squeezing one of your hands around his bicep as his tip catches against your clit. His eyes caught yours once again as he pushed himself inside you slowly. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, a choked out moan coming out. 

He picks up a slow yet steady rhythm fucking into you, one arm hooking under your thigh keeping you spread open for him. His lips move roughly against yours, your mouth silencing his moans. 

His lips detach from yours and he brings his other hand to rub his fingers at your clit. His eyes focus on yours and his pace slows down slightly. He’s hitting inside you deep and you can feel every part of him against you. You bring your hand to cup his jaw, your thumb brushing against his bottom lip. If you thought the connection when the two of you were kissing was a lot, the connection you felt now, with him buried deep inside of you, was a million times that. He pauses his thrusts, his member buried deep in you. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” you whisper. Tyson, a man usually of many words, opts for a silent response and kisses you deeply. With one hand on his face, you hold him to you as he starts moving again. Trailing his kisses down your neck he finds your sweet spot where your shoulder meets your neck.

“You feel so good, fuck.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you slowly, yet hard, as you both try to savor this

movement between the two of you. The finger rubbing your clit picks up speed and your fingers around his bicep tighten, leaving crescent marks behind. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out. Your walls tighten around his member as you tightly close your eyes. Tyson brings his mouth back up to yours, kissing you until you’re pulling away with a loud moan as your orgasm rushes over you. He fucks you through it, leaving some pressure on your clit even when your high has passed. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cock twitching as he spills deep inside of you.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, too.” He says. You kiss him fully, whining against his lips as he pulls his member from you. He flops down next to you, pulling your body tight into his chest. Your hand falls over his heart, the skin there sticky and shining from sweat. Your breath falls in line with his, and your eyes close briefly. His fingers push through your hair, trying his best to smooth out the knots that were previously created. He tugs a little harder, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him.

He opens his mouth before his face twists. He inhales deeply, his eyebrows furrowed as he turns his focus away from you.

“What’s that smell?” Tyson asks. You waft some of the air around you towards your face and that’s when a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“The cookies!” You shriek, jumping up and detangling your limbs from Tyson’s. His booming laughter fills your ears as you run to the kitchen to inspect the damage. Turning the oven off with a beep, and taking out the burnt cookies, Tyson’s body appears behind you. 

He places a kiss on your bare shoulder where the blanket started to slip, “God, I could get used to this.”

His whisper against your skin causes a shiver to run through your body. Once the burnt cookies are on top of the oven, you turn around in Tyson’s arms, leaning up to brush your nose against his.

“Me too.”

September 2019 - Red Rocks, CO

 “Tyson, I don’t think you understand how excited I am!” You exclaim as you go to hug him hello at the door. “I’ve literally been looking forward to this since I got the tickets in February!”

Tyson chuckles into your neck. Letting go, you walk back into your kitchen. Tyson follows closely behind, watching you grab your water bottle and your purse. 

“Hey, I didn’t know this picture was taken,” Tyson gestures to the photo of the two of you hanging on your fridge. You smile as you look at the photo he’s pointing to. It’s from a home playoff game in the second round, a few days prior to them being knocked out. The picture in question is you and him after the game outside the locker room. He’s dressed in his navy game-day suit,holding his tie, phone, and headphones in one hand, while the other arm is wrapped around your torso. Your hand is squeezing his cheeks, forcing his smile to be somewhat squished. 

“Yeah, I went through the pictures on my phone after I got back from Canada to see what I wanted to get printed and saw that one.” You answer with a smile. “It was too good a memory to not put somewhere.”

Tyson’s smile slightly widens, remembering the night in question vividly. He was on a post-game high. He had scored a goal that game, helping propel the team to force a Game 7 in San Jose. You had gone to the game by yourself, sitting with some of the WAG’s and family members of the team and enjoyed every minute of playoff hockey in the Can with people you normally didn’t attend games with. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he compliments quietly, dropping his hands back down to his sides. He follows you to your front door, watching you as you slip on your Doc Martens. You’re wearing a one-sleeved bodysuit, paired with a pair of patchwork jeans.

You let him know you’re all ready to go, standing up and placing your hands on his chest and placing a kiss to his lips. Your eyes are wide and bright when you pull away, emphasized by your long eyelashes, and he doesn’t think you’ve stopped smiling in the few minutes he’s been here.

“Thank you again for going to this concert with me so last minute. I know you don't really like this type of music,” You say, referring to the Dermot Kennedy concert you’re getting ready for.

“He’s your favorite artist, I’ll be fine, Y/n,” Tyson reassures. “Besides, it’s an excuse for me to dance with no judgment.”

Hopping into Tyson’s SUV, you snatch the aux cord before he can protest and play your driving playlist on Spotify. The 45-minute car ride to Red Rocks from your place is spent with all the windows down, your feet up on the dash, enjoying the cool, Denver summer, and its almost fall-like air. Your playlist is bouncing through the speakers for most of it, both of you singing at the tops of your lungs. Joyful laughter keeps interrupting both of you, too excited and infatuated with the other.

As Tyson pulls into the amphitheater parking lot, you turn the radio down, taking in the sights around you. The bright oranges and reds of the canyon rocks shock you - you had looked at plenty of photos of Red Rocks Canyon since you had moved here, but none of those did justice to the sight in front of you.

“Holy shit,” you exclaim, settling onto the ground next to the wide-open car door. “This is breathtaking.” 

Tyson meets you on your side of the car, leaning on the side of the hood, “Yeah, it really is.

And you know he can’t even really see the vibrant coloring of it, but when you turn around to look back at him you notice he’s looking more at you than the canyon surrounding you. Tyson opens the trunk of his SUV, you going to sit down on the ledge once it’s fully open. The two of you sit there for a while, enjoying the view and each other's company, waiting for the doors to open for the show.

“Okay, so you can’t get mad at me for not singing any of the songs.” Tyson makes you promise, with a laugh.

“I won’t. I promise.” You assure, putting your pinky up to intertwine your pinky with his. He pinky promises you, and you kiss your thumb, him following suit. A somewhat childish tradition you made him do with you every time you made a promise to one another. As you drop your hands from in front of your faces, Tyson leans in stealing a kiss. You pull away with a shy smile, still not used to the new dynamics of your relationship.

Not too long later, you’re walking into the venue and down to your seats. Tyson leads the way, your hand in his as he leads you through the large crowd. Once you reach your seats you take in the sights around you and the ethereal atmosphere. The pre-show playlist is playing through the speakers as you tell Tyson everything he needs to know about the show that’s soon to start.

The lights go out, and the darkness of the canyon surrounds you until the show starts and Dermot Kennedy enters the stage through a cloud of smoke. As the set continues, Tyson has moved his focus from the stage to your dancing form next to him. Your eyes seem to be closed more often than not, letting yourself get lost in the environment and dance along to the beats of the heartwarming music. He’s swaying his body next to yours, not as lost in it all as you are.

The soft intro of ‘For Island Fires and Family’ starts and a small shriek leaves your mouth. You turn to Tyson, yelling to him that this is your favorite song. His smile replicates yours, eyes crinkly, as he pays more attention to this one than the ones that came before. As the chorus comes and the guitar starts to pick up, Tyson focuses more on the lyrics. 

Tyson takes this chance to pull you into his side. His arm slings over your shoulder and you turn your face to him smiling, grabbing the hand draped over you.

“But she's bringin' the moon and stars to me, damn permanent reverie. And even though this life, this love is brief, I've got some people who carry me” You sing softly, swaying your head to the piano and strums of the guitar. Tyson hums next to you at a quieter volume, nodding his head to the beat. Every time the chorus passes, Tyson squeezes you a little tighter into him. 

Once the show ends you make your way back to the parking lot and as you reach his car, he meets you on the passenger side with you. You thank him again for coming with you, giving him a hug and a quick, gentle kiss.

“No problem. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.” He admits, pecking your lips once more. 

The drive back to your house is quiet, mostly because you’re too awestruck at the show you were just at. As he’s pulling into your neighborhood, you turn the music down, continuing to sing along softly. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it. He rests your joined hands on his lap. You stick your hand out the window, feeling the wind against your skin, the streetlights bouncing off your jewelry, and creating an almost ethereal glow on your skin.

He pulls into the parking lot, parking his car next to yours. He meets you at the back of his car and stops you from walking up to your front door.

“I love you,” he blurts out. He realizes then how unromantic this moment is, with how the two of you are standing in a parking lot full of your neighbor’s cars. “I love you so, so much.”

“Tyson, I -” You stutter, pulling away from him. His admission shocks you and it all feels too early for it to be happening. You had only just talked about your feelings in the past week and were just starting to feel fully comfortable being in this new relationship with him. You hadn’t even told anyone other than Caitlyn about the new aspects of yours and Tyson’s relationship. “Do you have your soulmark, what, when -”

“I don’t - I don’t know, it just hit me,” He stutters. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He takes a step towards you, effectively canceling out the step you had taken away from him moments prior. Your feet are stuck to the ground and you’re having trouble focusing on any of the thoughts running through your brain. What if he truly does love you, but doesn’t have a soulmark? What if he does have a soulmark, but you never get yours with him?

Tyson can see that your mind is running a mile a minute and he grabs your shoulders, pulling you into him. He runs his hand in a comforting manner over your hair before placing a kiss there. He pulls away, and gives you yet another quick kiss, in hopes that it calms both of you down.

“I have no idea about the soulmark, I just know that I love you. It came in waves throughout the night, and then it just hit during that one song and at the end. The one you were singing with your whole chest and I had you in my arms.”

“For Island Fires and Family?” You ask, thinking back to how tightly he held you to his chest during that specific song.

“Yeah,” He breathes out.

“Tyson,” you start, looking down at your shoes to avoid his gaze. “I can’t say it back.” 

It breaks your heart to even say that to him, especially with the amount of love you already have for the brunette. He already had a piece of your heart, but looking back up at him you couldn’t find the words to say that you were in love with him.

“That’s fine,” Tyson assures, his tone light letting you know that it really is in fact okay.

“It’s just really early and there were so many changes so fast,” you explain further. “But, I can tell you right now that I have love for you already, and that I am falling for you. You just have to give me time.”

He nods his head in understanding, taking yet another deep breath. You stand there in his embrace a moment longer before he leads the two of you up to your door.

Tyson’s in the bathroom finishing up while you’re already in bed, under the covers. When you hear the bathroom door open, you set your phone down and look over at Tyson. He’s smiling widely as he scratches his head. He sits at the edge of your bed and pulls his t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor.

“Holy fucking shit,” you gasp, sitting up further in bed.

“What?” Tyson asks, twisting around to look at you.

“Your fucking arm!” You exclaim, reaching out to touch at the ink adorning his once bare arm. 

Your jaw drops at the revelation, staring at Tyson, whose eyebrows are knitted in confusion. Opening your mouth to speak, nothing comes out but a choked noise. You point at his arm, not able to find your words, hoping he takes the hint and looks at his arm.

He glances between you and where you’re pointing and he sees the black ink just above his elbow. He jumps up, running to your bathroom to get a better look at it in the mirror. He examines it closely. He doesn’t notice your presence until your hands land on his bare chest, and he turns his focus from the mirror back to you. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and bring your lips to his in a heated, passionate kiss. 

“I am so fucking in love with you,” he announces once he pulls away. Looking into his eyes you notice the glossiness in them. 

“Let me see it,” you whisper, dancing your fingers along the back of his right arm. 

He turns his body enough for you to get a clear look at the brand new ink. Just above his elbow is a half-sun, surrounded by the phases of the moon, adorned with various small dots and lines to make it look more complete. The lines are delicate, which is something your mind links to the way you treat one another. You place a kiss in the center of it, before wrapping your arm around Tyson’s waist turning him around.

“It’s gorgeous,” you compliment.

A blush rises to Tyson’s tan cheeks. His eyes are sparkling in the harsh lighting of your bathroom and his smile is bright as he looks down at you. Your heart is full and your hand stays wrapped around his bicep, almost like if you take your hand away the mark will disappear. 

“I guess this means I’m your soulmate, huh?” You smile.

“I guess so,” He smiles back, wrapping his arms around you to fully embrace you.

The two of you make your way to bed eventually, only after pulling away from Tyson long enough to get there. The two of you don’t fall asleep for hours after getting in bed, too caught up in one another’s body, and the connection between your souls. He’s snoring above you and you smile to yourself before dozing off. You may not be in love with him yet, but you knew in your heart that you were a few steps from falling.

tag list: @reavenedges-lies​ @oilers2997​ @quinnsbxtch​ (let me know if you wanted to be added!)

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #nhl imagine #alex writes