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wandasfifthwife · 10 days

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your jealousy is showing (on me)✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coach!wanda x afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top wanda x bottom reader, dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, jealous wanda, exhibition (janitor closet), marking/impact play (hickeys, bruises, thigh spanking), fingering (r receiving), r gets hit on but is oblivious, tyler mention!, reader is said to be wearing a dress, person who hits on r sees the two of them, not proofread!

a/n || in such a slut for this woman. so sorry if my writing is nastier than coconut, idk how I feel about it haha but I hope you enjoy bc this made me hot and bothered tbh

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Practice has been going well, better even. There’s been an increase in number since people started to find out that wanda has experience on the ice as a player on a professional team. The stands have become packed, families and friends taking up every corner, a completely contrast from before. You remember the days when you first came with your nephew, sitting and having a seven feet distance from another person. Tyler’s since graduated from wanda’s class, now attending another with a different coach.

It was a sad day for him, hugging your girlfriend tight and exclaiming how he wishes to have her as a coach for every class. She had laughed, resting a hand on his back and reassured him that she’ll attend his other classes. She even went as far as to mention private classes, saying they can spend time together on the ice. A smile had come upon your face as you watched the two interact, thankful your nephew is able to have such a wonderful relation with his coach, your girlfriend.

Since then you’ve been attending his classes with Wanda. You can’t help yourself, curling a hand through her arm to hold her close. You complain that it’s the cold, but you both know it’s a shit excuse. Regardless, she’s never going to turn you down, if anything she’s pulling you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head.

“He’s improved a lot. Lately he’s been practicing outside his house with some friends on the street.”

“That’s probably the only reason why he’s able to skate in a straight row now. Do you think he’ll continue to play?”

“I think so. It’s all he talks about, but of course we can’t say definitive terms. He could fall out of love with it in a year and choose like baseball.”

“If he were to choose another sport it’d be football, not baseball. His favorite part of hockey is running into others, he forgets there’s an actual game going on.”

You stifle a laugh, “he’s trying.”

He proved Wanda’s words to be correct because the next second he’s slamming into one of the team members, pummeling the two into the wall. The coach had come to talk to you after, seeking you where you stood by the concession stand. You had a hand on Wanda’s arm, informing her of where you’ll be.

You were paying for the snack, thanking the person behind the counter. He had stood behind you just out of your line of sight, so just enough that you ran into him when turning around. His shirt smelled of sweat and his cologne, a lot of his cologne, so much so it overwhelmed you.

“Hey, you’re tyler’s mom, right?”

“No, just his aunt.”

“My bad. Sorry that was terribly rude of me, I was going to say you look good for your age.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Of course,” he flashes a smile, leaning onto one of the tables beside him, “I’ve notice how often you come, it’s great that you’re supporting him like this. Most kid’s don’t have such a supportive aunt.”

“I try. My brother and his wife are busy, so I take over. He’s means well but he’s still a young teen.”

“Yes. He’s nothing new. A lot of teens enjoy the physical aspect to the game, it’s normal for them to be competitive even with each other.”

A few minutes have gone by, enough time for concern to begin swirling through Wanda’s mind. She’s relieved to see you’ve not gone missing and that you’re all in one piece, standing only a few feet from her.

“That’s my coach,” Tyler starts, seeing how Wanda’s attention was directed at the tow of you.

“I know,” she deadpans, turning her attention back on your nephew, “finish untying your shoes.”

“I know,” he mimics, tone lowering to frustrate her further.

You’re walking back over with a grin plastered on your face. Tyler’s already grabbing at the drink you got, pulling it from your hands to open it already.

“Just talked with your new coach, Tyler. It seems you have a track record with finding amazing coaches.”

Already Wanda didn’t like him. She kept quiet about her disdain, knowing how important it was to you that Tyler doesn’t come to contact with a terrible one as you had.

It grew difficult. Each practice he always seemed to find you, drawing out a long conversation with you. Usually it’s fine, as a coach herself she understands the important of keeping up with the families, but this was excessive. The constant parade of compliments directed at you were unnecessary. He wouldn’t really care to talk to Tyler, and as far as she knew, Wanda didn’t exist around him. He’s either dumb, or he’s choosing to be ignorant towards the intimacy between you two.

What brought her to the edge was when he began to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or the back of your waist. It was in moments where it could’ve been excused; done to either move you out of the way or make sure you don’t trip.

You were sweet, engaging in a conversation he had started yet again down at the end of the bleachers. Wanda had her attention set on Tyler skating around before practice, eyes flickering to where the two of you stood every minute.

“I have a conference this weekend and we’re allowed to bring a plus one. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Oh. I already have someone that I’m going with. So I won’t be going with you, but I will see you there.”

He looks disappointed, eyes shooting to meet Wanda’s, “I’ll see you there then.”

Wanda doesn’t like that man.

You walk up the stairs all sweet-like, sitting beside her and placing a kiss to her cheek, “when’s that coach award event again?”

“Saturday, 7PM.”

You hum, leaning your head on her shoulder, “you better win an award.”

“If not, I have you.”

An elbow shoves into her side, “you’re such a sap.”

“No, I just love you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips against yours, feeling like she’s won when she catches the coach looking. She had hoped the soft public display of affection would be enough of a sign to back off, but it wasn’t.

The weekend came soon enough. Wanda standing by the door with her keys in hand as she waits for you to join her.

“Beautiful,” she says when you step down, opening the door for you.

“I hope you win one award, that would be amazing.”

“It would look great for my public imagine,”she laughs at the look you give her, “you know I don’t care about that, love.”She gives your thigh a squeeze before backing the car out of her apartment complex.

She should’ve known he’d be stuck to you most of the night. Wanda tries to engage in the conversation, but he tunes her out, keeping his attention on you. Ever so sweet you try to include her, smiling back at her but this time it’s not enough to quell how she’s feeling.

“Hey Micheal, can you go grab her another drink?”

“Wanda, I can’t—“

She shuts you up by pinching at your waist, cutting your sentence off. He looks mildly annoyed, “sure.”Once he’s turned around, she’s guiding you out of the room.

“Wanda there’s only like sixteen minutes until the ceremony—“ your mouth goes numb when you realize where she’s walking you towards. There’s a closet at the end of the hall, tiny and small as its only purpose is to hold supplies for the janitors. Tonight it will be used for another matter.

“That’s enough time,” she says lowly, shutting the door behind her, enclosing the two of you in darkness.

She’s lifting you with her hands under your thighs, dropping you down onto the extra school desk stored away in the room. Her body’s leans into you, hands on either side of your body as she kisses you passionately. They turn messy, trailing from the corner of your lips to end up on the bottom side of your neck. You gasp when she bites down, a hand reaching to push at her chest.

“Wan—wait.”

She doesn’t listen, too focused on making your neck show an array of purple marks. You whine, squirming in her hold as she leaves one after the other, stopping only on areas that you’re sensitive to. She’s severely quiet, attentive to every heavy breath and sound coming from you. You’re weak, arms wrapped around her neck, head pressed into the wall behind you. You’ve completely given up control, neck tilted back to give her more room.

“Oh—” you shiver when she moves towards the spot behind your neck. Your reaction gave her another reason to press her lips against it, nipping at the skin there.

Her ministrations leave you wet, your hips grind down onto the desk below you to try to seek relief. Wanda coos, cold fingers sliding under your dress, finding the wetness between your thighs. You cry out when she thrusts two in, pushing through your tight walls. It’s intoxicating, the wet sounds filling the room, turning you on even more.

“Ah! Wands—you—“

She’s shushing you, lips on yours to keep you quiet. Her fingers are splitting you open, angling perfectly towards the spot that makes your back arch. Her thumb catches onto your clit with each thrust, brushing perfectly to make you see white. You weave your fingers into her hair, moaning into her mouth when she bites at your bottom lip.

You’ve completely forgotten about the event, and most importantly, Michael. You’re clenching onto her finger, arousal covering her hand and dripping onto the wood below you. You choke on a moan when she’s guiding you to lift your left foot onto the desk, the position spreading you open to allow her fingers to push deeper. The bottom of your dress slips up, clothing pooling around your waist. You feel your orgasm build, a series of whimpers spilling from you.

“Fucking say my name when you come,” she demands, holding back moan when she hears your strangled whine after she brought her hand down onto your thigh. The way your cunt squeezes around her fingers then makes her weak.

“Like that?”

She’s cocky, hand coming down harder on that same spot.

“ah! wands please—“

Your body jerks after her fifth slap, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. She nuzzles against your head resting on her shoulder. You relaxed into her hole, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

It was fine until wanda carried you into the bathrooms to clean off and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, easily spotting the splotches painting your neck.

You leaned over the sink to get a better view, eyes snapping between the marks; the one by your ear, another under the strap of your dress, one more at the base of your neck. You weren’t aware of the severity of her actions in the moment, your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fuzziness spreading throughout your body.

“Was that okay,” she asks from where she stands by the entrance.

“Very,” you mumble, looking back to her with a smile.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I knew something was wrong,” you say, grabbing a paper towel from the machine, “he was a jerk to you. Like just earlier he wasn’t letting you get a word in, but I really just thought he was being nice at first.”

“You’re fine, love.”

You wet the towel, rubbing warm water over the cloth to get it wet, “you say that but I still feel bad.”

She crosses the room to grab at your wrist after seeing what you were doing, “why’re you trying to rub the marks off?”

“Because?”

She raises an eyebrow, “because? What?”

“This is your event, I don’t want you to loose your job over me.”

“I won’t,” she tosses the towel away, “I knew what I was doing when I gave you those.”

“But the staff—“

“There’s enough of them screwing around.”

“Oh.”

She huffs, hooking a finger under the hem of your dress, drawing it up your thigh until the red, swollen marks on your thighs from where she was aiming her hand earlier begin to show. You hate how affected you get by the sight of them, thighs squeezing together.

You were only meant to be gone for ten minutes. That was the original goal, but she began to fold with how you were looking at her. Your eyes were dark, locking onto hers from within the mirror. She had you pinned to the counter in seconds, forcing you to watch how easily you melt under her touch.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, getting closer to where the two of you stood. You had begun to push back, mumbles on how she needs to stop so they don’t get caught, but it’s like she knew. You caught on later, realizing it was Micheal by the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Wanda, he—“

She’s slapping a hand over your mouth, pulling you back against her chest. You look over your shoulder, finding Micheal freeze after entering into the room. Wanda had you in a position only he could dream of. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he processed what he was looking at. The marks on your body, eyes glossy and faraway even as you look in his direction. The muscles in Wanda’s arm flex as she presses her hand tighter against your mouth. You’re absolutely dripping, excitement pooling from the behavior this man was bringing out of her.

“I was worried… but I see you’re.. okay.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Micheal?”

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanida m.list

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sugrhigh · 1 month

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BOY NEXT DOOR 5 - ( c.s )

part four

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, kinda fluffy in the beginning, smutty smut at the end (YEP U READ THAT RIGHT FOLKS)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: HIIII i apologize for the wait!!! part five is here and boy is she something, she’s long asf and i hope you love <3 if i forgot to tag you i am so so sorry, leave me a comment and i’ll absolutely fix it! my inbox is open for u guys always

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @reallykaz @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts

trying to push chris away, especially after the party, might possibly be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. he’s relentless in trying to get your attention, and the bruise he left on your neck is a fading reminder of your prior weakness.

he’s been teasing you endlessly for the past four days; working out in front of his window with the music blaring, making sure he’s always shirtless, texting you at least once a day just to flirt.

and it’s slowly chipping away at your self-defense, as pathetic as it makes you feel. you don’t want to give in to your stupid fucking temptations, but it’s so hard not to.

not to mention cassidy and ramona have been prying about him every few hours, trying to see how this is all going to play out. you wish you knew, but you don't.

you’re straddling the fence of hatred and lust now, still unsure where you stand.

your internal struggle to forget about him has haunted you, and it weighs on your shoulders now as you sit criss-cross in bed, trying to focus on starting your essay.

your phone vibrates, facedown beside you, and you presume that it’s the very person you’re trying to ignore.

you’re correct, of course.

chris

let me take you out

you haven’t been responding to him, but this text catches you by surprise, just enough to type out an actual answer.

y/n

you go to set the device back down when it pings again in your hand. you flip it in your palm, letting the screen light up.

chris

ok then let me eat you out

your stomach flips, and you instinctively glance out your window to your left. chris is grinning at you from ear to ear, freshly showered and (of course) shirtless after practice. he’s also sitting in bed, legs hanging off the side as his gray sweats bunch up around his waist.

y/n

no.

you’re a creep

chris

you love it when i talk to you like that

you look back up from your messages to flip him off. he tilts his head back, and you imagine hearing his loud laughter as if you were right there with him.

y/n

you think walking around without a shirt on is winning me over?

chris

maybe a little?

y/n

think again pretty boy

he pouts just a bit before standing up, waving a hand to indicate you should meet him at the window. you listen, wedging the pane upwards so the chilly january air hits you right in the face.

the sun has set now, so chris is backlit by the light of his room as he stares at you, placing his palms on the windowsill so he can casually lean out into the night.

“what do you want?” you spit, wrapping your arms around yourself to fight the cold.

“i can’t talk to my favorite girl?” he smirks, breath fogging up slightly in front of him.

you don’t know why he won’t put on a fucking shirt, even in the freezing atmosphere. his body certainly isn’t bad to look at, but you’re too stubborn to ever say it, especially when he’s so smug.

“no, you can’t. what do you want?” you twirl your finger, as if to tell him to get on with it.

“i want to hang out.” chris reiterates in a serious tone.

you roll your eyes before you can think twice about it, because it still sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth. “yeah, right.”

“i mean it. no funny business. unless you want that, of course.” he says, still toying with you even when he’s supposedly being genuine.

you shake your head, blowing out a long breath of exasperation. but the curiosity takes over, and you have to admit you’re a little intrigued.

“what could you possibly have in mind?”

thirty minutes later you’re back inside the hockey arena, a pair of skates dangling in one hand as you follow chris down the walkway toward the player bench.

it’s quiet, since it’s the beginning of the week and nobody is allowed on the college team’s ice aside from players. he had even chatted up one of the employees, which just helped secure you your time to goof off alone.

you had no idea that this was where he was taking you, because he insisted on it being a surprise and made you keep your eyes closed for the entire drive, but the revelation ended up being far more pleasant than you expected.

you actually used to love going ice skating as a kid, probably because you adored watching hockey and figuring skating so much. it’s been a while, and you know you’ll look terrible next to chris, but you don’t really mind.

he leads the way and sits down, jamming his feet into his hockey skates. then he uses his newly freed hand to wave you over, which makes you realize that you’ve been standing around like an NPC.

“come on, don’t be shy. i’ll lace you up.”

it’s not really an offer, because the second you plop down beside him he’s on one knee, taking the skates out of your hands gently. he doesn’t even give you time to yell at him for the dumb nickname.

“i can do it myself, you know.” you protest as he slides one of your sneakers off, replacing it and guiding your foot into one of the skates.

“that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly now would it?” he looks up at you through his fluffy brown hair, a silly grin playing on his lips.

“oh, i wasn’t aware i was in the presence of a gentleman.” you tease, looking around like you’re searching for whoever he’s talking about.

chris just repeats his actions with your other foot, careful to move you softly as he slips the other skate on. “i wouldn’t talk shit before we get on the ice, you know.”

“please, i’ll skate circles around you.”

it’s an empty threat and he knows it, because he chuckles as he ties his own laces fluidly before using your knees to push himself off the ground.

“then how about you get out there and show me?” chris challenges, extending his hand to you.

“let’s do it.” you take it without thinking, and you hate that it was just a natural reaction.

you hate wanting to hold it, and the fact that you don’t feel disgusted.

chris pulls you up and waits until you’re fully steady before he starts tugging you along in excitement.

he lets go once he opens the small door to the ice, skating out to the middle and doing a little spin around the BU emblem just to show off. but it’s actually endearing to see him so in his element, so passionate about something.

“care to join?” he invites, and you suck in a breath before stepping out onto the ice.

you’re a little wobbly at first, awkwardly skating along and trying to make sure your knees don’t buckle before you even get to him. you’re also approaching with a bit too much momentum, and you fumble against his hard chest.

but chris just wraps his arms around you without comment, ensuring that you don’t fall flat on your ass.

he likes having you this close to him, even in a non-sexual way. sure, he’s insanely attracted to you, but he’s also found that he just likes your company, as sappy and scary as that is to him.

“oops.” you mumble into his sweatshirt, which has the familiar smell of his cologne on it, before you unravel yourself from his arms.

“you look like a baby deer trying to walk.” chris jokes with a wide smile, letting his fingers slip from your body so you can actually move around.

“shut up.” you sock his chest lightly with your fist.

he chuckles, holding a hand to the spot you hit as if you really hurt him. “hey, i’m just calling it like is it.”

“and i’m just warming up.” you argue, using one foot to propel yourself toward one end of the rink.

the more you skate around, the more confidence you gain in your ability, and the more comfortable you feel on your feet. chris follows you closely, moving with such rhythm that it almost looks like he’s floating.

“sure you are.” he drags out the ‘e’ for emphasis, doing a few little laps around you as you continue getting used to it.

“well you’re certainly not helping, you ass.” you grumble, staring down at your feet in focus.

and then you feel yourself trip up slightly, and your arms immediately fly out as you attempt to steady yourself. but you’re flailing, and chris can see the panic cross your face.

but before you tumble, he skates up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist so you can lean your weight back. his body stops you from toppling, and your heart slams hard and fast in your chest from the fright.

“careful, baby.” he says into your hair.

it sends little chills running up and down your spine, and you’re too nervous to tilt your head to look at him. you know how close his face would be if you did.

chris isn’t even sure himself why he said that, how he let the entirely new pet name slip, because he doesn’t use it with anyone. not with his brief past “girlfriends” or flings, not even with you. but now he is, and it rolled off of his tongue so easily that he feels sick.

“that’s a new one.” you practically pant, short of breath from both the near-fall and his words.

a volcano of butterflies is erupting in your stomach, and you know that’s not from the previous scare. it’s fully because of him.

fuck.

“wanna try a spin?” he deflects masterfully, and this spurs you out of your slight stupor enough to straighten up and glide away from him.

“fine, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“no promises.”

for the rest of the time spent at the rink, chris tries to keep his usual unserious demeanor going, but something has shifted, despite how minuscule the comment was. you’re both unknowingly still thinking about it on the car ride home, each wondering how the other feels.

even the goodbye is strange. he pulls you in for a quick side hug before darting back to his house, leaving you standing all alone in his driveway wondering what changed.

you sigh and turn to head back up your own front steps, slipping inside as quietly as possible even though you know cass and mona are busy in their rooms studying for upcoming exams.

it’s just you and your thoughts as you climb the stairs to your room, gnawing on your bottom lip.

you wouldn’t have been so freaked out by the pet name if he hadn’t frozen up himself, but his reaction makes you wonder if he ever meant to use it in the first place.

and even if he didn’t, why did it seem like such a big deal? its not like he hasn’t used stupid nicknames with you before.

questions fill your brain as you shuffle into your bathroom, throwing the shower on and stripping before stepping into the warm water. the pressure feels good on your shoulders, and you try and rub out some of the tension in them.

chris has just been surprise after surprise recently. you’re seeing a different side to him, one that’s seemingly emotionally invested in you, and you don’t want to let yourself believe it.

believing in someone means you can actually get hurt.

you try and relax into the steam as you rinse your hair out and shave, though it only helps a little bit. by the time you turn the faucet off and step out, you’re still just as confused.

you wrap yourself in your plush towel, tucking it so it stays as up you pad back into your room.

a song that’s been stuck in your head all day falls softly from your lips as you pick through your dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear and sliding them on, letting the towel fall the the floor.

your back is to the window as you continue scanning the drawers for one particular shirt, which is apparently elusive tonight. you’re still unsuccessful even after rummaging through every drawer, and you’re just bending down to check your hamper when your phone buzzes against the wooden cabinet.

it makes you flinch, one hand flying to your bare chest as the other reaches for the device.

chris

give me permission to come over.

now.

your eyes dart to the window as you lunge to grab your towel off of the floor. you could have sworn you closed the curtains before getting into the shower, but when you look up you’re staring right at chris.

his eyes are dark as he watches you run over to the glass, towel barely covering you as you yank them closed. your heart is hammering in your chest, and you can feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat.

y/n

you were NOT supposed to see that

chris

well i did

let me come over

i’m fucking serious.

y/n

my roommates are home

and that was an accident

you scramble around and throw on the first sweatshirt you can find. you don’t care what you have on anymore, as long as it’s something.

chris

then come here

y/n

no it’s already late

chris

you have no idea what you just fucking did to me

if you don’t come over i’m coming there

it’s your choice.

the string of curses that escapes your mouth are anything but kind. you have no idea what to do or how to get him off this rampage, and you despise the way your stomach is flipping from his texts.

y/n

chris.

chris

pick or i will

y/n

fucking hell

i’m coming over

you quickly pull on a pair of joggers and jam your feet into your slippers, wringing your hair out one more time. you know if you don’t hurry, chris will take it upon himself to come over here, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

your insides twist as you make your way down to the main level, out the front door and across the lawn. the inside of your cheek is irritated from the way you’re biting down on it every other second.

it’s ominously quiet tonight, and even though it’s the middle of winter, your body is on fire as if it’s a hundred degrees.

at this point, you’re not throwing caution to the wind anymore; you’re burying it in a grave.

your knuckles rap against his front door moments later. it only takes seconds for it to open, and chris tugs you inside instantly, slamming it closed behind you afterwards.

it’s not long before he has you backed against the foyer wall, his hands on either of your hips like he’s holding you there. his mouth captures yours roughly without warning, tongue gliding against your bottom lip.

there’s nothing slow or sweet about it; he’s desperate to feel every single inch of you.

chris had been mulling over his slip up in his room since you guys got home from the arena, nearly pulling his hair out just wondering what the hell his problem is.

and then he just happened to look over at your window, like he always does when he’s thinking about you, only to find you moving around in nothing but that tiny black thong.

seeing all of you exposed was like every wet dream he’s every had, and it nearly sent him over the edge right there. he needs you, in every single possible way, and there’s no use denying it anymore.

he’s practically devouring you, and you’re letting him because his lips are just so damn soft. you’re tired too, so tired of fighting your instincts, tired of fighting him.

he moves to your jawline, then to the base of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he goes. it’s impossible to contain the light moan that escapes your mouth. chris wants to hear it over and over and over.

“nobody’s home tonight.” he mutters against your throat.

his voice is deep, muffled slightly against your body, and the vibrations combined with the feeling of the scruff of his beard makes you throb. he’s pressed against your thigh, also very clearly straining for more.

“upstairs?”

chris pulls away, a smirk playing on his lips. even in the dim lighting, you can see he’s extremely satisfied by your response.

his hand slips into yours for the second time today, pulling you toward his room impatiently. you know which door it is before he leads you through it, but its still the first time you’re seeing it from a view that’s not your window.

you recognize all of the posters, ranging from hockey stars to movies to rappers, his plush dark comforter, the gym equipment he has pushed in the corner. it’s weird, because you told yourself you’d never end up here.

before you can think more, chris pulls you to him by the waist once again, walking you backwards until your legs hit the bedframe. your knees buckle and a small gasp escapes as you fall back against the mattress.

he leans down to kiss you again swiftly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting just hard enough. your fingers tangle in his soft hair so you can tug his roots.

he groans at the force, disconnecting from your lips slightly, and you see it as your opportunity.

“if we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.” you whisper against his mouth, trailing your hand down his body and wrapping it in his shirt so you can pull him into bed next to you.

before he can protest, you roll over to straddle him, thighs on either side of his hips. his eyes are wide in anticipation, clearly surprised by you taking charge.

“whatever you want, princess.” chris gives in, licking his lips as his hands grip the flesh of your legs like his life depends on.

“god, you’ve never sounded sexier.” you tease before you crash your mouth against his once more.

a few seconds later you switch your focus to his neck, deciding that you selfishly want to leave some hickies of your own. you suck on his skin, and a groan escapes his lips.

it spurs you on, so you rock your hips against his, grinding against his obvious hard on. his hands slide to grip your ass, giving one side a light slap as you shift against each other.

you grin against his lips, knowing that he’s becoming more and more desperate, trying to force you to move faster. but you still your hips, grinding at a tantalizingly slow pace.

chris moves one hand so his fingers can nimbly trace the bottom of your sweatshirt, pushing it up your body so he can tear it over your head. he releases a long breath as he stares at your full tits, happy that you didn’t end up finding a bra before coming over.

“fuck, i can’t do this anymore.”

he shifts, bucking his hips slightly so he can toss you off of him and crawl on top of you, trapping you between his arms.

“so impatient.” you joke, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes he loves so much.

“been waiting way too long for you.” he breathes, hooking his thumbs underneath your pants.

you lift your hips up so he can tug them off your waist, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to his floor. his eyes wander across your body, finally able to completely take you in now that you’re right beneath him.

it makes you feel powerful, seeing the very obvious lust in his eyes as he stares at you.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” chris asks, his fingers dancing across your neck so he can brush your damp hair aside.

the caress is gentle, and yet the weight of his words still makes you involuntarily clench your legs together. but he’s quick to push them back apart with his knee, forcing you to open up for him.

“don’t you dare hide now, i need to see all of you.”

he bows down between your legs so he can leave soft pecks along your collarbone, one hand groping your bare chest. you feel him creeping lower, mouth tracing down the valley of your breasts before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth.

you gasp in pleasure, and your hands tangle in his hair once more as your back arches off of the bed in need.

“oh my god, chris.” you whine, and he loves you gripping his curls.

he twitches against the inside of your thigh as his tongue flicks back and forth, so turned on by all the little noises you’re making. then he drags his wet lips over to your other hardened bud, ensuring he doesn’t neglect any part of you.

you squirm against his sheets, and the pressure of desire is quickly building in the pit of your stomach.

“feel good, baby?” he asks, confidently throwing the pet name out now.

chris doesn’t give a shit. as far as he’s concerned, you’re in his bed, and right now you’re his girl, so he’s going to call you whatever feels best in the moment. your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even pick up on it.

“so fucking good.” you encourage him desperately as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

the further he goes, the more your gut twists itself into knots. it’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, kissed you like this, and it’s got you needy as all hell.

finally, his mouth meets your hip bone, and another breathy moan passes your lips like a reflex.

he’s on his knees now, using both of his hands to pry your shaky legs apart, making sure he has full access to the place you need him most. his hot breath hits the wetness of your panties, and goosebumps rise on your skin.

“so desperate for me already, huh?” chris goads, applying two fingers to your clothed heat.

the pressure from his little circular motions makes you buck your hips, and he uses his free hand to try and still your movements. he’s spent far too many hours fantasizing about this moment to rush it. hes going to take his time with you.

“no, use your words, angel. tell me what you need or i’ll stop.”

it’s a demand, though he slides the black material to the side before you can even reply, just so there’s no longe a barrier between your heat and his touch. you’re dripping, and he swirls his fingers a bit harder, trying to get you to speak.

“more, chris, please.” you finally manage to beg, even though it drives you nuts being at his disposal.

“good girl, was that so hard?” chris hums, fully entranced by the pleasure that’s so apparent on your face.

one of his fingers teases your core for a few seconds before he fully slips it inside, pumping it in and out slowly. then he adds another and you’re practically writhing, unable to control your reactions any longer.

“shit.” you hiss, hands leaving his hair to grip his comforter, searching for any kind of relief.

chris curls his fingers every time he plunges them back inside of you, enjoying the way you tense every time. that being said, you’re both becoming more and more urgent, too desperate to continue the torment.

“need to feel you wrapped around me.” he grumbles, slowing his movements to a stop so he can yank his shirt over his head by the collar.

you’re pulsing from the loss of contact, already breathing heavy as you watch him slip out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. his dick springs free, and your mouth goes dry at the revelation.

he’s big, thick enough that you know you’re going to have to adjust. chris pumps himself in his hand a few times before running his shaft up and down your core, using your wetness as lube.

the feeling of his length sliding across your clit is almost unbearable, and by the way he’s panting you can tell he likes it just as much.

“no more teasing, i can’t.” you plead.

that’s enough to convince chris that he’s had his fun, so he fumbles with the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom and tearing open the packet with his teeth.

he rolls the silicone over his dick before standing to line himself up at your entrance, taking a second to look down at you. your eyes are wide and your lips are puffy, and you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

then he pushes himself inside, extra careful to take it slow at first. you both mumble curses under your breath, because the way he’s stretching you out is amazing and the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his sensitive cock is euphoric.

chris lets you adjust to his size for a minute before he begins to rock his hips back and forth, driving himself into you as he builds momentum. you clench around him with every stroke, and it’s driving him fucking insane.

“taking me so well, baby, so fucking well.” he praises gruffly.

you reach up, tugging his chain lightly to indicate that you want him closer. chris leans down so his body is flush against yours as he shifts in and out, your fingers raking his back.

he presses a hard kiss to your mouth, one hand squeezing around your throat lightly. he prays to god he’s scratched up by the end of this, because he needs a physical reminder that this is real, that he’s not dreaming.

“harder, chris.” you whimper against him, wrapping your legs around his waist so you can force him to plunge deeper inside of you.

the switch in angle also means he’s hitting a brand new spot, and you feel your stomach tighten at the sensation. your eyes screw shut as you let out a lewd moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

chris is using all of his strength to slam into you now, growing closer and closer to his high. he won’t be able to hang on much longer, especially when you’re beneath him with your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted like you’re begging for more.

“i love the way you look when i'm inside you, holy shit.” he’s practically breathless as he says it, his skin slapping against yours.

his name falls repeatedly from your lips like a prayer, because it’s the only word you can even think of at this point. your foreheads are pressed together, and he slides his hand down so he can brush his fingers against your clit.

it’s so much stimulation that tears begin to prick your eyes, something that’s never happened to you before. nobody’s ever made you feel this good.

“fuck!—m’so close, don’t stop.” you cry out, and your whole body is convulsing now.

you feel chris twitch inside of you, an indication that he’s on the exact same path. he moves his fingers against you faster, though his strokes grow sloppier and more desperate by the second.

“come on, princess. let it all go.”

and for once in your life you listen to him without any push back, releasing all over his dick as he simultaneously finishes into the condom.

chris slows his movements to a stop, overstimulated and fucked out as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he presses a few wet kisses to your skin as you regain your breath, enjoying the last few seconds of closeness before he pulls out.

he flops down beside you, both of you lying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving as you calm down. everything has changed in just the last four hours, and neither of you are quite sure what to say.

so you don’t say anything at all. he just discards the rubber and wraps you up in his sheets with a loopy smile, pulling you so your back is against his chest.

you can feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body, and you decide that logical thinking will have to wait until tomorrow. tonight, you’ll stay in his arms.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey!au #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #series

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

what? like it’s hard?

abby anderson x reader

cw : hockey ! abby , implied bimbo ! reader , reader x platonic ! dina , mentions of smoking weed , hockey explanations , movie moments

wc : 1.4k

a / n : i ,, do not have much to say about this fic. this is my first fic in like literally a month and im so sorry for my absence. i kinda just. wrote something. i do not know if it’s good, but it exists so !!

The sound of the announcer echoing through the rink tore your gaze from the cloudy bathroom mirror, your manicured hands moving to collect all of the supplies from the counter space– shoving it all haphazardly into a baby pink makeup bag before rushing to push through the slightly ajar bathroom door. You’d taken the time before the start of the game to primp– knowing your girlfriend, she had this match in the bag, so that meant you wanted to look extra pretty for the obligatory celebration afterward.

From the heavy black coat of mascara on your lashes to the glittery pink shadow decorating your eyelids, you’d gone all out. Some would say this was overkill but you couldn't bring yourself to mind, taking any and every opportunity to bring out the custom jersey she’d commissioned for you– the perfect addition to your outfit, as it sported the schools signature logo and her last name in bold letters on the back, the only difference from the normal jerseys was the color. A soft baby pink instead of the harsh black and white that was uniform with the team. It was a statement piece, in both yours and Abby’s eyes. You were branded by the team captain and she made sure everybody could see it.

You pushed through the crowd, shuffling in beside a girl you recognized from the party last weekend, giving her a small smile as you let your bag come to rest on the floor beside the seat. You sunk into the cold plastic, crossing your legs as you brought out your phone to check your socials.

“Hey, sorry, you’re Abby’s girlfriend right?” The girl beside you asked in a hushed voice, the heat of her stare making you turn to look at her.

You nodded, glossy lips pulling into a tiny smile as you peered at her curiously. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember her name, only remembering the people she was with. A tall mullet dude and Ellie, only knowing her through a need to buy from someone that wasn’t trying to get into your pants. “Yeah, how come?” You spoke, letting the screen dim as you rested the phone on your thigh.

The brunette shook her head slightly, glancing from you to the competing teams. “I was just wondering, do you know how all of this works?” Her hands rose to wave towards the ice, eyes coming to lock back on yours. “My girlfriend is really into it but I can’t figure out what’s going on, I've never been a sporty girl.”

“Oh yeah! I’m not a sporty kinda girl either but I've picked up a ton from listening to Bee talk about it,” You began, the wheels in your head beginning to turn as you moved to rest a hand on hers. “But first, could you remind me of your name? I’m so sorry, It completely slipped my mind, I know we've met before.”

The girl laughed, nodding as she tucked a wisp of black hair behind her ear. “Of course, that party was insane– I don't blame you for not remembering. It’s Dina, Dina Woodward.” Her attention was torn from you as a sharp whistle ripped from the referee, marking the face-off. “Okay, so– what is going on? What are they doing?”

Your eyes moved from hers, filling with a realization as you settled back into your seat, moving slightly to lean towards her as you pointed to the two players standing before each other. “Alright so, those two are gonna be doing something called– uh,” You paused, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth before you continued. “scrapping! They have to win a position for their team. So the ref is gonna drop it between them and they’re gonna try to get it!”

Dina nodded, brows furrowed as she watched the two girls duck down– just inches from the face of the ice as the puck dropped between them. Her mouth opened and then closed again as the puck was caught by the opposing team, her gaze tearing away to look at you. “D-does that mean we lose? What did that do?”

“They just have the upper hand, babe.” You giggled, nodding back towards the ice– where a now disgruntled Abby was moving against the other team, her stick coming to swipe the puck from their grasp. “It doesn’t take much to get it back, especially against them.” You gave her a sly look, fluttering your heavy lashes as you hinted at the less-than-competence of the opponents. “Abby says that their captain paid her way onto the team, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

A choked chuckle left the girl's mouth as she shook her head, toying with the bracelet dangling from her wrist. “You get all of the hockey drama, don’t you?”

You shrugged in faux innocence, twirling a free strand of hair around your fingers as you squinted toward the ice– trying to pick out another victim of the rumor train. “Let me tell you everything! Like,” You paused, pointing out a girl towards the back. “Her! You’re not gonna believe this but–”

The game passed before the two of you, all but ignored, as you filled her in on the most important parts of the hockey scene. From why Abby didn’t acknowledge Jenna to the rumors surrounding the legitimacy of the financial situation of your opponents, it was an hour of nonstop talking as she clung to every word.

On the other side of the room, an exhausted Abby dug her skates into the ice– turning to launch the puck into the opposing team's net, just barely missing the stick of the goalie. Her blonde hair was sticking out wildly from under her helmet, the braid coming undone from the constant brutality from the opposition, a hand coming up to push it down as a loud buzzer sounded– the crowd erupting in cheers. Her chest heaved as she pushed off, a triumphant smirk pulling at her lips as she glanced around the room for you.

Your attention was ripped from the girl when the buzzer sounded, wide eyes looking around to the scoreboard before popping out of your seat- dragging Dina to her feet as well. “They won, We won! Dina!” You squealed, shaking her gently as you pointed to the winning score– a solid 2 to 5.

Dina looked beyond confused for a moment before nodding, a screen replaying the final goal. “It was Abby too! Abby got the winning goal!” She gushed, an excited smile rising on her lips as she directed her gaze from the screen to the ice, seeing the blonde kicking off her skates before exiting the rink– it being her turn to shake you as she turned you in the girl's direction.

Abby pushed through the gaps of the crowd, ignoring the congratulations from the onlooking fans as she kept her eyes locked on you, her helmet was the first thing discarded– a mess of blonde waves hanging loosely around her shoulders now, braid long forgotten. “Angel,” She breathed, coming to stop before you, her hands navigating to your hips as she effortlessly lifted you off of your feet– her lips crashing into your glossy ones, the taste of cherry making her groan into your mouth lightly.

Your hands shot to her neck, smiling onto her lips as you squeezed her closer, ignoring the obvious stares from the people around you. “Abby,” You hummed, pulling away for a second to breathe, when she pressed another kiss to your lips– shushing you for another moment before pulling away, giving you a small nod to continue. “Good fucking job, baby!” You whispered, earning a chortle from the girl as she released you back onto your feet.

Dina coughed slightly, a hand covering her mouth to muffle the giggling. “Not to ruin the moment, but I think you might be needed.” She hummed, pointing over to the exasperated ref attempting to wave down the blonde.

“Oh, thanks–?”

You pushed the girl back towards the rink entrance, “Her name is Dina, now go!” You sighed, shaking your head as you took a couple of steps back towards your seat, moving a hand to wipe the smeared lip gloss from your lips, watching the blonde push back through the crowd to deal with the disgruntled ref. “So, do you wanna come with us after this? There's always a celebratory party after big wins, we could toke up and I could give you the rest of the hockey drama.”

“There's more? Oh fuck yeah, count me in.”

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nerdraging4point0 · 2 months

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Power Play (Hockeyplayer!Noah AU) Masterpost

Thank you to @ladyveronikawrites for the epic title pic!

Tropes and tags: hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Author's Note: Please note although this uses real people’s faces and likeness in an AU writing it does NOT in any way reflect the person specifically. I cannot stress enough how upset it will make me to find my work shared on other platforms, including ones that the band has direct access to. This is fan-fiction and if we want nice things, follow the rules. Also, I realize his last name is Davis, however, for the sake of the story and the fact that I like the name Sebastian so much it is the name we will be using for his surname. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 //

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @curse-bearing-hips @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @darling-millicent-aubrey @moranastray @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @collective-heartbreak @littlefoxkota @somebodyels3 @thisbicc @jakeygvf21 @cind6547 @lma1986 @loeytuan98 @xxkittenkissesxx @darkmxgician @sammyjoeee @malerieee @embracethereaper42 @nerdywitch20 @graveatspeople @sacredthefran @dominuslunae @skulliecadaver-blog @anameunmusical @thatchickwiththecamera @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @lilrubles @iknownothingpeople @talialovesmiw @deathofpeaceofmiiind @shaydayhere @wild-child-7747

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens #hockey player!noah #badomensau #hockey!au #hockey player x reader #hockeyromance #bad omens bandom

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silencesscreams · 10 months

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thin ice

hockey!james potte. x ice skater!reader

summary: you and james go to the same training rink and always see each other. you eventually start talking and flirting, but what you didn’t know, was that you’d see him at your best friend’s birthday party and get absolutely hooked.

warnings: fluffly fluff, petnames, f!reader, use of y/n a few times, she/her pronouns referring to r, drinking

pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!!

he sure had a nerve.

first he bumps into you in the hallway and doesn’t even apologize,

and then he asks you to get him some water? what does he think you’re doing there?

“sorry, i don’t work here.” you said, looking at him with your brows furrowed.

“oh, i just thought that you worked here because of the matching uniforms, you know?” you were about to laugh at him but then you noticed the red on his cheeks. was this man blushing?

“i’m sorry, how many times did you ask girls from the skating team for water?” you giggled, and suddenly his face is even redder.

“lets just say i gotta apologize to a lot of girls. i’m james by the way. james potter.” he dropped his gloves as he went to shake your hand. as he bent down to pick them up, you read the name on his jersey. ‘prongs’. you didn’t know what it meant, but it was kind of cute.

“prongs? what does that mean?” you ask, curious about him.

“its my hockey name”

“hockey name? like an artist name?”

“sort of, its nicer to call for prongs than to call for james.” he explained.

“really? cause i like james better.” you said, grabbing your bag from the bench you were sat on. “well, gotta go. but i’ll see you later, prongs.”

“i didn’t quite catch your name!” he shouted as you walked away.

“guess you’ll just have to find out!” you said, smirking at him from afar.

james potter sure was interesting.

as time passed, he eventually figured out your name, but he didn’t really use it. you found out he loved petnames, and you eventually started liking them too.

sure, you weren’t close, but you really liked the ‘hey ,hun, how are you?’s until you got something better than that.

“hey, love, how are you?” james asked as he filled his water bottle.

“hi, james, i’m good” you smiled

“so, i was thinking” your stomach started twisting itself into a knot. “could i maybe get your number?”

“yeah, of course.” your cheeks were getting hotter by the second.

“great, just type in” he smirked, giving you his phone. “i’ll text you later?”

“for sure.” you smiled.

once you got to practice, it was obvious something happened, specially because of the smile you couldn’t get rid of.

“what’s up, y/n?” pandora asked, as you sat down next to her.

“james. he asked me for my number.” you kept on smiling.

“you mean prongs? okay, score” marlene joked.

“please! we’re friends.” you insisted.

“like you don’t have the biggest crush on him.” pandora laughed and you shoved your face in your hands, blushing.

once james got to practice, it was obvious something had happened to him too. specially because he couldn’t stop smiling.

“spill it, prongs.” sirius said, without even looking at him for two full seconds.

“what?!” james got defensive and sirius glared at him. “i asked y/n for her number.”

“what’d she say?” peter asked, remus was clearly paying attention too.

“she just gave it to me, can you believe that?” he smiled.

“i actually can’t.” sirius joked.

“shut up!” james scoffed.

“we’re going to lily’s birthday thing, i’m sure she’ll be there too. if you wanna shoot your shot.” remus smirked at him.

“really?” james asked, a glimmer in his eyes.

james had never felt so excited about any girl before, he couldn’t actually describe it. there was just something about you.

you spent the whole week talking to james, texting, getting coffee after practice,

he took about two hours to get ready for lily’s birthday, he was so nervous when he got there he felt like he could faint. it also didn’t help sirius was laughing at him for a very long time, but when you got there? that was probably it for him.

he could’ve just fainted because of the dress you were wearing, red was definitely your color. and with that he couldnt stop picturing you in his team’s uniform.

as you said hi to your friends, mary pointed him out and you could’ve actually passed out. your stomach went into swirls and you waved at him from afar, when he smiled at you, that was probably the nail onto your coffin, because james potter was going to be the only thing on your mind for a long time.

he came over to you after about 15 minutes of overthinking all the things he said to you through text.

“hey, hun” he said, giving you a quick hug.

“hi, james, fancy seeing you here!” you joke, taking a sip from your coke and rum.

“well, what can i say? im a pretty unpredictable guy.” he joked, sitting next to you and playing with the straw on your cup.

“you want some?” you suggested because by the way he was looking at your cup, it seemed like he was craving it.

“nah, i’m driving tonight.” he said, a sad puppy look on his face.

“hey, y/n, weren’t you needing that drive home?” pandora asked, kicking your feet.

“oh, if you want to, i can take you home.” the dark haired boy suggested, smiling at you, again, and how could you say no?

“i’d actually love that, thanks” you couldn’t help but smile back.

“you can just drop me off here” you said as he stopped in front of the driveway. “thanks for the ride, jamie”

as you looked over to him, he was already looking at you. his eyes were focused on your mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t ask you now he probably wouldn’t.

“hey, i was thinking, my team’s playing next Saturday and i’d reallt like it if you’d come by and watch… if you’re free and want to, of course.” he was staring at the steering wheel. “it’s this casual thing, don’t worry, i actually think some of your friends are going and-“

“i’ll be there.” you assure him, james’ head quickly turns, hes facing you again.

now you both are just staring at each other, lingering. his hand went over to you and put back a strand of your hair, and so you heart was pounding in your chest very rapidly and you didn’t quite know what he’d do next.

“i really wanna kiss you now.” he whispered like it was the biggest secret he ever told anyone.

“okay.” you answered, quickly nodding, very nervous to say anything else.

“but i cant though, not yet, ‘cause i know you had a lot to drink.” you felt like he was mostly saying that to himself.

“good night, james, thanks again for the ride.” you felt kind of let down, but still gave him a kiss on the cheek before you opened the car door.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDNT KISS HER? WHAT THE HELL JAMES??” sirius shouted out at the locker room.

“SHE HAD A LOT TO DRINK!” he was trying so hard to defend himself, peter shook his head in disbelief.

“shes out there, i think. i’ll kiss her as soon as we finish this, i swear.” james promised, putting on his gloves.

“its not us you gotta swear to, mate.” remus said, and james knew that.

“wait so he didnt kiss you because you had some drinks?” lily asked, confused. “THAT WAS A FOUL, COME ON REF!” she shouted out before you answered.

“i actually think its kind of sweet.” pandora commented.

“i feel the same, but i really wanted a kiss, and i didn’t even drink that much! did i?” you ask, nervously.

“i dont think so.” lily was up and clapping now, she was the most excited about the game of all people there, mary was just giggling at her girlfriend enthusiasm.

you waved at james during the intermission, he blushed and waved back and you were incredibly happy. you were cheering when he scores, and eventually started shouting the same things as lily (because you knew nothing about the rules).

when they won the game, you cheered like a proud mother, it felt good to be there for him. as he stepped out of the rink, he was calling you over, as you ran to him, he was taking his helmet off and turned around to get the mouthguard and you thought that was the cutest thing.

“hi” you smiled at him.

“hi” he answered, pulling you in and immediately kissing you, his lips were soft and he smelled like strawberry two in one shampoo.

“is this okay?” he asked once he pulled back, you couldn’t bare to answer, so you nodded, and just pulled him in again.

“hm, could you maybe get me some water?” he joked, pulling back again

“you’re an idiot, james potter.”

later that same evening, as you watched him dip french fries in a milkshake, you realized that you were walking on thin ice, specially because you might be falling in love.

#lila writes #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter is my bf #i love him so much #MY BF HOCKEY PLAYER!!!#hockey!au #silencesscreams #hockey!james potter

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mapofthesea · 1 year

Text

defenseman!taehyung x social media manager!fem!reader

hockey!au

genre: fluff, slight angst, smut

summary: The home opener of hockey season is crazy for everyone, but when star defensemen Kim Taehyung takes a specific interest in you, who are you to turn him down?

warnings: sports things, taehyung being a flirt but also very sweet, reader trying to convince herself that she isn't allowed to like him, very minor hockey related violence, swearing, small amount of alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk!), feelings admissions. Specific smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!reader, public sex, bathroom sex (they're alone in there), mirror sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (be better than them), begging, he comes on her back lol, some spit, praise, aftercare.

an: I am a whore for both hockey and bangtan, so here we are. As always this wasn’t proofread or edited so there might be typos! Also happy birthday Tae. love u so much king

The sound of fans funneling into the arena buzzes through the air, making you more than grateful for the direct feed of your coworkers’ voices in your ear.

“Team intros start in 15, do we have time for some pre-game content before that, Y/N?”

Your mind reels at the idea of subjecting yourself to the locker room so shortly before the game, but you’re nothing if not professional. The concrete halls echo with sound, the low bass of the pre-game playlist rumbling under the soles of your boots. The door to the locker room is open, allowing a direct view of the bustling bodies within it. You don’t bother to knock or warn them before you waltz in, team phone in hand, and get to work. A few players give you friendly nods while strapping pads on, but you’re largely ignored in favor of their own conversations.

There’s no time to set up a mic, or ask them to answer any questions, so you settle on taking some simple footage of them getting dressed, enjoying their pre-game hype. Despite your college degree in marketing and plenty of training from the previous social media manager, you would be lying if you said you felt confident in interacting with this impressive team.

As a fan, you know that the season opener night is always bound to be loud, stressful, and busy; but you didn’t expect to feel quite so nervous.

You open instagram, panning carefully around the fancy locker room to give the fans a look at everyone getting dressed, lacing up skates. Upon reviewing the footage you’re disappointed to see that it’s shaky, indicative of the nerves running through your veins.

“Shit.” You mutter, deleting the footage and heaving a sigh at how quickly the time is ticking down. You were probably down to less than 10 minutes before they’re due on the ice.

“Anything I can help you with?” A gentle, deep voice asks. Your heart stutters under your sweatshirt as you get the courage to turn.

Looking down at you with his pretty, intimidating eyes is Kim Taehyung, star defenseman. The skates give him another few inches on his already towering frame, and you can only imagine how scary he would be skating towards you on the ice.

You stare, mesmerized by how real he looks. A knowing smirk blooms on his face.

“...anything I can help you with?” He asks again, a teasing lilt to his voice as he crinkles his nose in an endearingly boyish way. You mentally slap yourself for falling for his charm so quickly. This is your job, for gods sake. You have no business fantasizing about how handsome the players are.

“Uh-um yeah, I need to do a quick interview with you, is that okay?” You hate the way your voice shakes, and you’re not even sure how he heard you over the ruckus of the locker room.

“Sure,” he squares his shoulders, brushing some hairs off of his forehead. “Where do you want me?”

The lilt of his voice suggests he knows the heat that just shot to your face was because of him, but you decide to pretend he wasn’t making you feel hot under the collar. “Can you just sit on that bench, there?” He follows your orders without hesitation as you stand in front of him, framing the shot as best as you can. Aware of the low amount of time on the clock, you ask the first question that comes to mind.

“How are you feeling about tonight?”

Taehyung smirks, and you can feel your heart rate speed up as he makes eye contact with you instead of the camera. “Feeling like I’ll be getting lucky tonight. Chances of scoring are looking very good.” He flashes a toothy smile and you convince yourself the tremble in your knees was just because of the cold in the arena.

“Okay…what’s your favorite pre-game ritual?” He bites his lip, looking the epitome of fuck boy, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Uh…um..I guess, making sure to retape my stick before every game?” He sounds unsure but you don’t have time to press the issue, aware that the other players were lining up to have a final talk with their coach before heading out. You put the phone away and nod congenitally at him for his cooperation.

“Tae!” His teammates call for him, all dressed besides their helmets, to join them in the huddle. He hauls himself up, making no effort to avoiding bumping into you as he passes. His hand catches you around the waist and he leans down subtly. “I lied, by the way. My favorite pre game ritual isn’t retaping my stick... it’s a lot more fun than that.” His proximity makes you shiver, and the pointed way he looks at your lips all but sets you alight. “Well, you’re a smart girl. See you later, yeah?” He walks away briskly, leaving you breathless in his wake.

---

Pre season games had established the team at the top of the division already, but watching them in action, standing on the side by the boards and photography team, you feel electrified. As the end of the third period closes in, the arena is ablaze with the happy hum of fans observing a 5-2 win.

You take a moment to check the team’s socials, seeing that the things you added to instagram did pretty god numbers, and that one of your media team members had cross uploaded the interview you did with Taehyung to TikTok. The amount of views and comments was stunning, and you couldn’t help but feel quite accomplished at such a quickly made video doing so well. The comments take a second to load, but the top one makes your cheeks flame.

hockeygirl10: hes totally into whoever is interviewing him lol

Your mind reels as you see the rest of the comments are similar, and for a second you consider asking someone to delete the comments or take the video down altogether, but the amount of shares and views on the video makes your stomach tingle excitedly. Instead you decide to praise your media team for cross posting, knowing that making a viral clip the first night of the season will only make the whole season’s media better.

The chat opens just as the pane of glass in front of you rattles viciously; making you jump as the photographer next to you snaps a series of pictures. You look up and immediately make eye contact with a smirking Taehyung, who had just ran an opposing player into the board right in front of you. Sweat drips down his cheeks and plasters his hair to his forehead but that somehow serves to make him look hotter, and if that wasn't enough, he smirks. You suddenly feel too hot in your sweatshirt despite the arena’s chilled temperature. The man Taehyung had boarded skates away, but he lingers for a few seconds.

“Put that away!” He yells, and is gone just as you process what he said to you. Embarrassment floods your system as you realize he must have seen you glued to your phone instead of watching the game. You watch him skate away, and within seconds he’d regained the puck and was advancing on the net. The puck goes in smoothly; sliding right past the goalie before he even notices it. A buzzer sounds and the red light flashes, signaling the goal to the rowdy crowd.

Taehyung is immediately surrounded by his teammates as they celebrate, and he takes his lap around the rink as the announcer details his goal to the audience. He stops in front of you again, pounding on the glass and giving you a charmingly boxy smile that makes your stomach flip. He’s gone in a flash, having to go back to the bench now that he’d done so much work. Your heart beats much faster than it should for the situation, but you can’t help but wonder if that goal had been for you.

---

The energy on the ice translates directly to the locker room after the game ends. The boys are yelling, clapping each other on the back and laughing as they lounge in more comfortable clothing. While alcohol is technically forbidden in the locker room, the coach and staff have all turned a blind eye on the account of such an amazing game, so a small table is crowded with cases of alcohol. You decide to join the spirit of the night and grab a White Claw with your co workers, celebrating both the game and the success of the media accounts.

“Hey, Y/N, did you see how well that interview is doing on TikTok?” One of your new intern asks as you’re in between sips. The comments flash through your mind as you nod.

“Yeah, I saw. Cross posting it really helped I think.” You meekly suggest. “Fuck no, girl. It was the way he was looking at you. You have to be honest...” she leans in close, as if she were giving away an industry secret to you. “Are you fucking him?” Your heart leaps into your throat as you emphatically shake your head.

“No! No, I’m professional and technically I work for him so that would be so weird...he’s just like, he’s handsome and charming and everything but he...It just feels so not allowed...so I’m ignoring it!” Her eyes widen at your outburst, and the way you ramble through your sentences makes you feel like she’s judging your stability, so you try to drive your point home. “I honestly think that Taehyung is the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I wish I was fucking him, but I’m sure he doesn’t even like me like that so I’m gonna…pretend my feelings don’t exist.” You raise your can to her in a half hearted toast before downing the rest of it in one go.

It’s not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, but it felt so good that you immediately want another. Your intern’s face morphs into horror, and for a second you think that she’s just mortified to be working for you, but then you back up right into a hard body.

“Hey, Y/N.” Taehyung’s voice makes you recoil, but he gives you no time to recover before he spins on you and grabs your wrist in a gentle but firm grip. The simple touch alone ruins any arguments you may have had, and you allow him to weave you through a crowd and into the hallway.

“Let’s go for a walk?” His voice is surprisingly light given the brisk pace he walks at but you follow, eager to see where this would head. He takes large, sure steps until you reach the empty concourse. The food stalls and beer stands are empty; lights halfway powered down since all of the patrons had long left. Taehyung leans casually against a walkway railing, admiring the view of the city from the tall windows at the front of the building.

“Taehyung- I’m sorry if you heard any of that. It was super unprofessional of me, and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.” He cocks his head and examines you leaning on the bars next to him. “You know I’ve always thought you were the prettiest social media manager we’ve ever had? I remember the day we met you in the big conference room in the back.”

You remember the day too. It was only a few months ago but feels like ages at this point. Having passed the technical parts of the interview and successfully pitching your ideas for social media posts, the final part of the interview was simply for you to meet the players and make sure you all got along. After all, if they weren’t happy with how you presented them or their team, it would mean you being let go. Of course all of them were kind-they all knew what you were there for- but you remember that Taehyung was one of the only players who gave you a sincere handshake. As strictly business as it felt, getting a firm handshake as a woman in a sports organization dominated by men felt vindicating.

“I remember too, Taehyung. And it was really nice of you to be so welcoming to me. And that’s part of why I feel so bad that I...” you wave your hands between your bodies wildly, “feel. I’m glad to move on like this didn’t happen, and I can assign someone else to do your stuff.”

Taehyung just stares, his pretty chocolate eyes turned up in amusement. “Y/N, I just called you pretty, and you're still worried you crossed a line? I think you’re fucking gorgeous. And smart, and talented. The only line you crossed is the one into my heart.”

You can't help the laugh that bursts forward at his cheesy line, and to your delight he joins in, shaking his messy mop of curls in the process. “So...about you finding me handsome and charming...” his hands curl around your hips, bringing you into his personal space. He smells like pine and beer, and your pussy throbs at the way his thumbs stroke your back. You place your hands on his chest, delighting in the hard plane of muscle there.

“Hm, I do think those things. What are you gonna do about them?” All your past feelings of regret and doubt begin to evaporate as his face inches closer to yours, lips a millisecond from your own. You give him a subtle nod and his lips are on yours, wasting no time to shove his tongue into your mouth. Startled, you moan into him and wrap your hands around his neck. He maneuvers to press you against the hand railing easily without giving up the kiss, and a huff of a moan leaves his mouth as your bodies meld. The hot press of his body against your own leaves you panting, feeling so secured under his touch.

“Taehyung, please,” you plead, leaning your forehead against his chest to take a deep shuttering breath. “Wanna feel you.” You whimper, afraid to be heard even though everyone left in the arena is very far away. Taehyung hums, petting the hair at the back of your head.

“Can’t fuck you out here, baby. C’mon.”

You follow him blindly again, driven by nothing but the roiling lust you’re feeling for him. He leads you into the closest bathroom, and despite the fact you know you likely won’t get caught, anxiety spikes through you.

“Don’t look so scared, baby. Nobody's gonna find us, I promise.” His voice had somehow deepened since the last time he spoke, and it makes your insides melt. Taehyung recaptures your waist, guiding you back towards the ledge of the row of sinks. His fingers cup your chin, rubbing delicately underneath your bottom lip. Your heart stutters as you study the little moles on his face, the soft curls that flop over his eyebrows.

“You’re so handsome.” The words spring forward before you can stop them, and Taehyung tips his head back to laugh. Eyes sparkling, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so pretty. And cute,” he pinches your side playfully to make you squirm, pitching you forward into his body until you can feel how hard he is under his sweatpants. His eyes roll at the contact as you slide your hands under his shirt, thankful that he only had the one layer on. He makes short work of getting his shirt off and promptly buries his head in your neck. He nips at he flesh and you know its going to bruise, but that only makes you hotter between your legs.

“Gonna make you mine, baby. Fuck that little pussy so good that you’ll never forget me, huh?” You keen under him, moaning out an affirmation as you let your hand travel over the smooth skin of his stomach. He shudders against you as your hand curls around the width of his cock through his sweatpants, teasing the head of his cock with your fingertip. It twitches under your touch and your mouth waters.

“Lemme taste you, Taehyung.” You give him no time to protest as you sink to the tiled floor in front of him. Your panties stick to you uncomfortably as you move, but you ignore the feeling in favor of working his pants down his thick thighs. They come to you in all their tanned, muscled glory; and his impressive cock stands at attention. The head is flushed a pretty pink, the prominent vein along the bottom prompting you to stick your tongue out and taste him.

Taehyung groans, hands falling to the crown of your head. “You gonna suck me off, or should I fuck your little throat?” His eyes are dark as they peer down at you, almost mirroring the intense look he gets on the ice. You press your thighs together at his words, but waste no more time to take him into your mouth. The stretch pushes your limits but you breathe through it, blinding through your tears as you sink him into your throat. Taehyung lets a constant stream of moans and curses free, fighting against his instinct to buck his hips into your mouth.

Spit escapes from your mouth as you bob your head, soaking his cock and your chin in a thick sheen. You can feel your makeup running as tears brim your eyes, and the ache in your jaw is coming through more prominently; but the way that Taehyung’s cock twitches inside of your mouth is enough reason to keep going.

“Fuck, if your throat is this fucking tight and hot, can’t imagine your pussy.” He’s practically purring as you grip at his thighs and swallow, determined to make him spill down your throat. His thighs shutter and he reels as if electrocuted, pulling out of your mouth. A long string of saliva connects your lips to the tip of his cock and you gasp. Taehyung bends to your height and loops his hands under your armpits. Before you know it, he has you bent over the sinks, staring at your wrecked reflection in the mirror. Your mascara is smeared, skin red from exertion.

“Gotta get this stuff off of you, okay?” He helps you out of your top layers clumsily, throwing the garments aside in favor of groping your tits. Taehyung practically growls as he reaches around to unbutton your jeans and work them down your hips. You bow your head in embarrassment of your own reflection when he exposes your soaked through panties. He runs his fingers over your pussy, tutting as he feels the way you shiver.

“So pretty in these ruined panties, baby.” He plans a kiss on your ass cheek before looping his fingers under the fabric and pulling it down to the ground with your jeans. He moans, immediately cupping your pussy with his calloused hand. Your head shoots up at the feeling, giving you a great view of the way he bites his lip in concentration as he teases a finger around your entrance. He meets your gaze through the mirror and smirks just the same way he had on the ice earlier. Your pussy flutters at the thought and he feels it, laughing evilly at the feeling.

“Want your fingers.” You keen as he teases a single one at your entrance. “T-two of them, please” The request punches out of you but he easily obliges, slipping both fingers in for a slow but satisfying stretch. Your whole core clenches as you feel his digits fill you, but the stretch blossoms into pleasure as soon as he begins to move them, opening up your pussy for him. Your hands scrabble across the countertop in search of support and Taehyung huffs a laugh before offering you his free hand to clutch. You know he’s likely going to have bold red scratches all down his hand and arm tomorrow, but that’s truly an issue for later. Your center throbs, a warning of an oncoming orgasm, and you eyes instinctively clench shut.

Taehyung’s hand stills inside of you and you wail, scrabbling to turn around and figure out why he had stopped. The weight of his fingers inside you is enough to keep you on edge, but you’re desperate for him to finish the job.

“Why did you stop?” You whine, circling your hips back into his unmoving hand. A feeling of desperation begins to crawl up your throat as you hiccup a breath. “Please, I’ve been good.”

Taehyung tuts at your words and untangles his hand from your own before threading it through your mussed hair. “Look up,” he moves your head for you, “And keep those pretty eyes open so you can see just how sexy you look right now.” His fingers come to life inside you again the second that you lock your eyes on him through the mirror, and you struggle to keep them open. Your stomach churns with your incoming release, and you wiggle against his hold until the dam bursts. Your orgasm is sharp, causing a loud moan that doesn’t even sound like yourself to spring from your lips. Taehyung growls at the feeling, making sure his movements don’t slow as your body gets wracked with pleasure. When you’re finally back to consciousness, the first thing you feel is the weight of Taehyung’s cock twitching against your ass.

Despite just coming, you’re voracious for him and rock your hips back just to hear him moan. You mourn the sudden loss of his fingers, but lose all of the air in your lungs as soon as you catch his gaze in the mirror. His tanned chest heaves with exertion, sweaty just as you had seen him during the game, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, moaning to himself as he tastes you on his tongue.

Then, he bends and promptly spits on you, watching the glob travel between your ass cheeks until it finally reaches your pussy. “What a pretty little thing,” he praises as he spreads the spit around your sensitive lips. Your words have abandoned you, so you simply hum as you keep your eyes on the mirror, enjoying the view of his body in all its glory.

He catches you staring and indulges you, stepping to the side so you can get a clear view as he strokes his cock in earnest. Your chest heaves with anticipation, nipples peaked and sensitive against the cold countertop.

“Think I should put it in, sweetheart? Need my big cock inside you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less what you choose, but the bright red color of his tip says otherwise. Nevertheless, you decide to indulge his question.

“Yes, Taehyung! Please put it in me, I’ve been waiting all night for you…” you watch his gaze darken in real time, and you guess he must have been able to sense the truth in your words. You really had been thinking of this all night.

“Fuck, Y/N. Me too, I never thought I’d get you like this.” He cages you in from behind again, this time wasting no time to tease his cock against your entrance. His hips stutter forward and his face morphs into something close to pain- your heart shoots out of your chest at the pained groan he lets out.

“I don’ have a condom, I’m so sorry.” He sounds so defeated that your heart cracks a little and you stand up, turning to face him. He looks every ounce of innocent he could with his bottom lip pouted out as you cup his face in your hands. You can’t resist placing a little kiss on his nose.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper the magic words just loud enough that he can hear, and his face brightens like a kid on Christmas.

“Seriously? You’re the best, fuck,” he smashes his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, uncaring that your teeth are clacking together. “I promise I’ll still pull out, just in case, baby.” You nod dumbly, just happy to be under the influence of his affection.

“Alright, let me see that pussy,” he slaps at your ass playfully and you can help but shake your head at the way his attitude shifts so rapidly. His newfound confidence shows as he places a hand against your lower back before pushing inside of you. You keen as he stretches your walls, the pulsing feeling of your muscles moving around him becoming addicting already.

He shares the sentiment with a deep moan, head lulling backwards as he gives you an experimental thrust that sends your upper body rocking against the countertop. The more confident he becomes, the more his hands roam your body. One hand settles comfortably on your clit; tracing delicate circles on the edge of it while he works into your pussy. His other hand rests on your shoulder, the grip firm enough to keep you in place as you writhe in pleasure.

“T-taehyung,” you gasp his name more times than you can keep track of, biting into your lip so hard you taste blood. Every time you make eye contact through the mirror he goes harder, as if he had something to prove.

“Look at you, baby. All fucking mine, huh? You like being my girl?” The thought makes your head spin so you nod and are instantly rewarded with harder circles on your clit. Your back arches at the pleasure and Taehyung grunts, adding a second finger to strum over you.

“Gonna cum,” you warn, voice thin and raspy as your vision blurs. Clearly encouraged, he angles his hips just right and mutters a filthy string of praise, sending you over the edge. You come in a prolonged wave that you feel all the way from your toes to your scalp, a shockwave of pleasure that numbs you to the world in the best was possible. Taehyung’s deep groans cut through it all, and you’re actually kind of impressed with his self control as he pulls out of you and you feel his hot cum all over your back seconds later.

You’re already feeling grounded by the time his breathing settles, but the fear of dripping cum onto the floor keeps you bent over the sinks. Luckily he catches on fast and wipes you up with a paper towel.

“Romantic,” you giggle as he throws the paper towel away and immediately goes to wash his hands. He grins that smile that makes his nose wrinkle and captures you in a hug. It feels weird to already be this intimate with him, but the way he radiates comfort makes you sag under his touch.

“Sleepy now,” you mumble, letting his gentle hands caress your back. He nods and pets your sweaty hair back down.

“Let’s get you dressed and off to home, okay?” You press another kiss to his nose before you part.

2K notes · View notes

elliesmainhoe · 1 year

Text

Ellie Williams Headcanons:

HockeyPlayer!Ellie X Cheerleader!Reader

My Masterlist

Okay okay okay this is so cute

You go watch her practice and vice versa, sitting down and watching eachother with heart eyes.

Massive simp.

Shows you off to everyone, wrapping her arm around your waist, glaring at any other player that even dares to look your way.

Thinks that your cheer uniform is so hot and 9/10 her admiring you in it turns into a pre match work out in the changing rooms iykyk 😏.

Calls you 'Baby, Princess, sweet girl, cutie'

Kisses for good luck before every game.

Has punched one of her teammates at a after match party for getting too close to you.

Always laces up your skates for you.

Shit. You were late again.

Your hair was messily done up in your usual ponytail, uniform hastily put on and skates in hand as you rushed into the rink.

"Y/L/N where the hell have you been?!" A deep male voice yelled at you as soon you came into his vision.

"Sorry coach"

"Five minutes until you have to be on the ice. Skates on. Now."

"Yes coach" you mumbled, rushing towards a bench and sitting down, fumbling to put on your skates.

"I feel betrayed" Ellie said, making your head shoot up in surprise. "Hey Ells" you replied, a beaming smile shooting across your face.

"Nah-ah, don't smile at me traitor" she laughed, crouching down and taking the skates laces out of your hands.

"This is my job. In my girlfriend contract, it states very clearly that doing up your skates is my job." She joked, tying the shoes onto your feet securely.

"Now go, show 'em who's boss cutie." She whispered kissing your cheek and gesturing towards your awaiting squad.

Does up your hair and she's so good at it too. Her favorite style is to braid it into a pony tail ❤️

Let's assume that when you do your makeup before you go on the ice glitter is involved.

Ellie finds glitter everywhere.

Her gym bag? Yes. Her clothes? Absolutely. Her bed? Of course

Wears one of your scrunchies on her wrist like a badge of honor.

And never ever ever takes it off. (Except to shower obvs)

She loves scoring, simply because when she looks towards you in the crowd, your jumping up and down, clapping your hands and cheering before blowing her a kiss and winking.

When she finally gets off the ice after winning a game, she grabs you and lifts you up, arm resting over your short skirt so that you don't flash anyone and kisses you so passionately.

------------

This request was so cute 🥰.

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @strawberrysmoochesxo @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho

Join my taglist here

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0oolookitsme · 3 months

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It's Buzzcut Season, Anyways!

Eeeeekk!!!! Hi Hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well, here comes the first post of the year! <3

So.. It is my birthday today, and I'm very excited to tell you that I'm introducing to you, another one of my pairings! This a little excerpt from the fic (wip) I'm writing about this chaotic pairing, and I really do hope this gets you as excited about their story, as I am! This was supposed to be up in December but for some reason, I didn't post it?? Anyways, other than that, you shall see more, further on in 2024 :)

Also, shoutout to @cupid-styles and @elioslover for picking my ice hockey!Harry to be the one to get a buzzcut, hahah! My indecisive self (who lowkey wanted you guys to pick him), could've never 💗

All the love always, A.

Verse - NHL Player!Harry x Figure Skater!Y/n (uni era)

Word Count - It's just an excerpt so it's short!

Warnings - None that I can find but if there are any, do tell me and I'll edit them into this!

Y/n is reluctantly trimming Harry's hair when her nose feels funny, and she sneezes. Its good though, that Harry asks for her opinion regarding a change that he would rather appreciate.

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

Y/n sat on her unmade bed, hair unbrushed and messy since she woke up from a 3-hour nap. Her fingers typed away on her laptop, her face showing zero signs of any stress regarding the assignment she's going to have to turn in un-edited.

Probably because of the breakdown she'd had before taking nap. She'd been so stressed that she had drawn blood from her lips and broken two of her nails -- which was rather disappointing to her considering she'd got them done not so long ago in the honour of the upcoming season of winter.

The temperature was still as hot as summer, but half of the world was snowed in, and she wanted the peace of mind that winter brought her; so, she deluded herself into thinking that it was indeed her favourite time of the year.

A silent burp made its way up her throat, as she drank the day-old diet coke she'd been drinking before her meltdown-that-leads-to-an-amazing-nap.

Just as she slurped on the last sip that wasn't anything but melted ice, she heard the door to the flat open and her eyes rose up just in time to catch the sight of a sweaty and out of breath Harry, through the open door of her room.

"Y/n?" He called for her, walking towards her room when she only hummed in response. He passed her an apologetic smile on reaching her doorframe, and she knew he was going to ask something of her that the both of them know she wouldn't be willing to do quite easily.

"I need your help," he grinned at her. "...And Immediately."

She looked at him suspiciously, before deciding to shift her focus back on her assignment, knowing that he would lure her in if she were to continue looking at him.

But Harry was at once kneeling beside the side of bed she was sitting on. With his hands joined, he contorted his face in a way that looked like he was about to cry. "I beg of you, please! If you don't help me right now, my life will be ruined forever!"

Y/n's eyes had fallen into untrusting slits by now as she minimized the document that she had been writing in. "What is it, Harry?" She asked him in a monotonous tone, shutting her laptop as if procrastinating the essay any longer would be a great help.

"Cut my hair."

Instantly her jaw dropped open. Shaking her head, she began reopening her laptop and Harry took a hold of her wrists. "Harry, there's no way!" She yelped as he began making her get off the bed.

"I'm not asking you to give me haircut like Zayn!" He exclaimed, as if that'd ease her. "Just trim it a bit," he shrugged, walking out into the small living-room with Y/n thrashing behind him. She even threw a few hands at him, but he had a feeling that she wasn't as opposed by the idea as she was pretending to.

He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror that, though they had been living in this flat for nearly two months, had yet to be pinned to the wall. "C'mon, you work at a salon -- surely you know how to trim a guy's hair," he teased her, knowing that questioning her abilities would get to her and she'd cut his hair better than any hairdresser ever could.

Looking at her reflection glaring at him through the mirror, he winked at her before bending down to unzip his bag. He pulled out an electric trimmer from inside it and handed it to her, pulling the towel from the coffee table that he had left there earlier in the morning.

Once done draping it over his shoulders, he handed her the trimmer and added a touch of his puppy-dog eyes even though he knew they simply don't work on her.

"Okay. If you end up bald, don't complain then," she grumbled before running her hand through his hair. "Is this sweat or did you wash your hair after practice?" Her face was already contorted in disgust, like she knew he surely couldn't have done the latter.

"Don't you worry, I washed it after practice," he assured her, looking at her as if she should appreciate him.

She turned on the trimmer and held his hair in sections by one of her hands. "Why didn't you go to a salon?" She asked him, trimming the hair on his sides with her mouth parted.

Harry shrugged and immediately retorted when Y/n shrieked, mumbling an apology. "The salon's too far. I don't have the time to get there; got a handful of assignments to turn in before midnight." He told her. "And I mean, saving some money never hurt anyone."

"You do realize that I've put doing my assignment on pause to do this silly shenanigan with you?" Her eyebrows rose up as she fired another question at him. She suppressed a smile when he passed a dimpled-lopsided grin to her. "God, I hate you," she said, and a smile slipped on her lips as she moved to the other side to trim the rest of his hair.

She had no reason to be doing a parttime job at a salon, it wasn't going to help her in the future in any way, but it did help her in the present with its money. The money she got by being apprenticed to a dance company went straight into the flat-bills and some other necessary purchases that she couldn't avoid.

But she wasn't complaining about it. Living among frat people was a nightmare for her. She did have fun with people but being a clean-freak and a morning person didn't match well with the frats. They did love her dearly, but when Harry came in asking if someone would be willing to be his flat mate, everyone had chanted for Y/n. And, when he asked Y/n at the rink, she had quite literally jumped at the opportunity and in the joy of the moment, hugged Harry with a tight grip that still had his heartbeat rise whenever he thought about it.

With her touching his hair, Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was afraid it was going to break a rib. His eyes never once left her reflection in the mirror, not with the way she was being so careful and serious. Her lips had parted without her knowing, and she wasn't even blinking often enough.

That was when Harry saw a hair-strand fall in her face, and her face scrunch up in a way it does when she's about to sneeze. He saw as she turned to sneeze in her elbow -- a habit that she still hadn't gotten rid of. He shifted his gaze down on his hands in his lap, to prevent her catching him staring at her.

When Y/n caught her breath after the sneeze, her eyes grew wide. Her hand began shaking as she brought the other hand to cover her mouth, looking at his head in horror. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or begin spewing apologies and decided on the latter one.

But as she opened her mouth, Harry looked at her. "Should I just buzz it off?" He questioned her and thought that she had paled at the thought of him going bald. "I mean, the match season is finally over. I don't have anything to do but study, do my parttime and of course practice hockey." He shrugged explaining his point of view, looking at her to help him decided.

"S-sure! I mean, you'd look good with any-any type of haircut." She was shaking and stuttering, but Harry was too lost in his train of thoughts to question her. "A-and its buzzcut season, anyways!"

That seemed to be helpful for Harry. He smiled at her, "Shave it off, then. I'm basically on vacation from tomorrow... and I guess I'd really appreciate a change like this!" He was back to grinning and Y/n's sweat was beginning to cool off.

She imagined sitting with Harry on a sofa on some ordinary-night with her feet in his lap like he were her closest friend and telling him about today -- a movie playing on the lowest volume possible in the background. She stopped herself before she could get lost thinking about his reaction and mess up even his buzzcut.

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rosewaterandivy · 3 months

Text

Season of the Stick masterlist

Summary: eddie has a reputation and a temper. you have something to prove. and hop, well, he has better things to worry about, but he sure as shit isn't blind.

warnings: gross hockey boys, locker room pranks, fisticuffs (gloves off first, ask questions never), coach!reader, slow burn, pining eddie, eventual smut, angst, club hockey, blood, injury, long-suffering team manager!hop, captain!steve, trainer!robin

series

hit the lot and skate

goodies

playlist

inspo

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #hockey!au #hockey!eddie

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 2 months

Text

✷ 　　.　　 · * ✧ 🌓˚⋆ ✧

⋆ · 　 * 🌎· 　 ✧　✵　· 🚀 ⋆ ˚ * ✧ 　 ˚ * .🪐 　 *　Orbiting Update!　 * ⋆ 　 . · 　˚　 ⋆ 　　　 ˚ ˚ 　☽　 ✦

A quick drop-by to say that I haven't left this fic! I'm just swamped with work, but I think I can finalize a chapter or two 🤞🏻 this weekend! I still really enjoy writing this story and it makes me happy to see people read Orbiting and send their love! 🫶🏻 Anyway, here's a teaser for Orbiting: pt.4°

He’s taunting, hooking Jungkook, demanding his full attention. “Y/N does it well, but you clearly do it the best,” he mocks. “It’s comical watching you go around in circles for her.” His sly smile turns to pointed chuckles as he feels Jungkook tense under his grip.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Jungkook was never a violent man. Even on the ice, in a game, he never started any of the brawls. The one time he got tangled in a fight, he couldn’t stand the disappointed glare you gave him. It hurt more than the 13 stitches on his head and was way scarier than his mom’s scolding.

And yet, Jungkook throws the first punch. Straight to the jaw.

>> Orbiting Pt. 1

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic #bts fic #hockey!au #idk how to tag this #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts imagines #fic rec #bts fic rec

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wandasfifthwife · 4 days

Text

*ೃ༄ the difference between daddy!wanda & mommy!wanda

hockey coach/player! wanda x afab!reader ︎tw ͏ 𖧷 MDNI, top!wanda, bottom!reader, mentions or hints to sexual acts such as (fingering, oral (v & strap), grinding, tribbing, scissoring, strap in v), kinks such as degradation/praise, marking, exhibition ͏a/n ︎ 𖧷 inspired by this post. I WILL POST A FIC OF R CALLING W DADDY FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE SOON!

ׂ╰┈➤ series m.list 🌷 ┈➤ wanda m.list 🌻

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡mommy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s giving, gentle—

* it’s when R wakes up late at night, pulling on her shirt and Wanda’s turning over, half-asleep to sedate R’s neediness

* these are when she’s at practice, a hand on R’s hip as she’s talking to the kid’s parents

* it’s how she’s checking in on you often, pressing a kiss to your cheek when she notices how you’re looking down

* this is when she’s expressing her love for you, whispering how beautiful you are—all of you, mind body and soul

* it’s how she kisses you sweetly, hand on your face

* this is love confessions throughout your intimate moments

* these are moments when you’re eating her out and she’s guiding you through it, telling you how good you are for her, how lucky she is to have you

* this is when she either knows what you want, or if not she’ll ask and do everything you ask and more

* this is where if you want to control the situation, she’ll sit back and let you ride her, she’ll let you finger her—and she’ll be so kind to you

* it’s when she coos when she notices tears, wiping them from your cheeks immediately

* these are moments when she’s building you up again, helping you if you’re ever feeling down/bad about yourself or your body

* It’s small makeouts on her couch, grinning when she feels you grind on her lap and whimper so sweetly into her mouth

* this is when you can feel it mentally, you feel loved and taken care of, your heart and body feeling more confident after

* it’s when she’s bringing you water/food after, talking with you, and setting a hot bath for you to relax in after an intimate moment

fics w/ mommy!wanda —> locker room | my hands are cold, warm them?

❀꫶̯͙ࣺ˖̑͡daddy!wanda 💐

* these are the moments when she’s calling the shots, demanding—

* it’s when W loses a game and takes her frustration out, roughly pulling R down on her strap

* it’s the way she slams opponents into the screened wall when she’s heard them talk about you like you’re single and open for taking

* it’s the marks she loves to leave on your skin, biting down to hear you cry out

* this is when she’s feeling cocky about how good she makes you feel, smiling at your blissful expression

* it’s when she’s calling you names, titles such as slut are used, meant to make you feel degraded

* these are moments when she can’t help herself, pushing you into some crammed space to make your eyes roll to the back of your head

* this is when she’s pushing her strap past your lips, laughing when you choke or have tears pooling in your eyes

* this is when she has a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt on purpose as she eyes down another who’s been looking at you for too long

* it’s when she’s pushing you over the edge to pull you right back in despite your little (untrue/false) statements for her to “stop”

* she doesn’t and won’t let you lead, she’s going to be pulling all the reigns

* this is when you can feel it after— legs shaky and a limp in your step

* it’s when she’s falling asleep on you after with a smile on her face, the both of you too tired to go anywhere after her drawn out ministrations on you

fics w/ daddy!wanda —> she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit | your jealousy is showing (on me)

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sugrhigh · 18 days

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 6 - ( c.s )

part five

warnings- cursing, angst (i think that’s it??)

a/n: sorry for the long wait you guys i truly hope you enjoy!! if you have recs or anything you want to see fulfilled my inbox is open, it usually takes me a second but i promise ill get to them!

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @neatcarrot767

you wake up to the sun shining in your eyes, the glare from the window hitting you dead on. you sigh and roll over to your other side to avoid the annoying light. the beginning of a headache is already creeping on even though you just woke up, which frustrates you even further.

you rub your face and blink a few times to clear your sleepy vision, and then it hits you; you’re still in chris’s bed.

the sinful events of the night come flashing back all at once, and you can feel the nausea settling down in your stomach. chris himself is nowhere to be found, and his side of the mattress is cold.

the sudden urge to throw up is overwhelming. you didn’t plan on spending the night, but you were both exhausted, and the rising and falling of his chest against your back had lulled you to sleep.

you’re still naked, covered only by his soft sheets, and a wave of embarrassment and guilt washes over your body. for a split second you had believed it was just a dream, but it’s all too real.

you throw the covers off carelessly, scrambling to grab your discarded clothes from the night before. you throw them on, not even worried about the fact that they’re all crumpled. you just need to get out.

the door to his room whines as you open it, which makes you cringe. so much for moving around undetected. to make matters even worse, the stairs creak as you descend them, which gives away your exact location.

“morning sleepyhead.”

you hear his voice before you see him, and the sound of it makes you freeze in the hallway. you turn from the front door to face him, forcing yourself to look up from your feet.

chris is standing only a few paces away near the entrance to the kitchen, dressed in dangerously low-hanging sweats, hair messy from sleep. he’s got two plates of breakfast balanced in either hand, like some sort of dreamy nightmare.

for once, you’re certain that he doesn’t know what else to say. he’s just looking at you like he’s waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to be the one to break the tension.

“i have to go home.” you respond meekly, unable to say it with any sort of conviction.

“why are you in such a rush?” he frowns.

“because i have class soon, not to mention i didn’t come back last night and i have nothing to say to my very worried roommates.” your voice is strained, mainly because you’re trying so hard not to scream.

chris raises an accusatory eyebrow. “i really don’t think they would mind if you stayed for breakfast.”

“i need to leave, chris.” you argue, though you don’t make any kind of movement for the door.

he stares back at you defiantly. god, he’s too fucking pretty. it always distracts you when he looks at you this way, with those steely eyes.

“you regret it.”

the sudden claim makes you lose your breath, and you have no idea what to say in return. do you regret it? you don’t even know, but he seems to take your silence as confirmation either way.

“go ahead and leave, then. see if i care.” chris replies sharply, shifting to toss one of the plates of food into the trash.

you hear it thunk against the bottom of the can, and even though you can’t see it happening around the corner, it still kind of breaks your heart. he looks back up at you, his face grim, and you know that any bond you had before has been broken.

“chris—”

“just get the fuck out.” he interrupts, and despite the harsh words, he sounds defeated in tone.

his expression is dark, but it’s not the same kind of darkness you had seen last night. that was lust. this is something entirely different.

you can’t stand to look at him any longer, so you don’t. you just shake your head slightly, turning on your heel and heading out the door. it slams closed behind you, and your vision blurs as you walk down his steps toward your own place.

the fact that tears are stinging your eyes is fucking pathetic, and you hate it. you did the one thing you swore you’d never do; sleep with the enemy.

and the sad part is that you really aren’t remorseful. chris made you feel things last night that you had never felt before, physically and emotionally, and you’ll never be able to look at him the same knowing that.

it worries you. before this you were friends, or maybe the right word would be rivals. either way, you enjoyed it.

but now you’ve entered the gray area; you already know he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re scared of the possibility of catching real feelings if you keep sleeping together.

you don’t want to mess anything up, even though it feels like you already have.

you yank at a strand of your hair anxiously, and your head is in a million different places as you burst through your own front door. your legs don’t even feel as though they’re actually attached to your body. you’re like a ghost, floating up to your room in search of a safe space.

you close the door behind you gently, pressing your back and palms against the wood. your curtains are closed, which at first you’re very thankful for.

millions of times you’ve used these slips of fabric to hide from chris, and you’re doing it again now. it makes you feel like a coward, so you spring forward and rip them open.

to your surprise, his blinds are closed now. there’s a pang in your chest, because you know it means a lot more than the average person would think. he almost never closes them, ever. it makes you feel even worse. you want to scream, to truly cry, to do anything at all.

but nothing happens.

instead you fall back onto your bed, curling into yourself fetal style, arms wrapped around your knees. you close your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep, and eventually you drift off into weightlessness.

your ill feeling doesn’t subside for days. you find it hard to eat, hard to do anything really besides sleep and go to class.

chris doesn’t send you his usual daily texts. you know he’s not going to, but every time your phone buzzes you still hope it’s him.

his blinds stay closed too, which is almost worse. you keep your window exposed though, on the off chance that he’ll open his again.

ramona and cassidy have been trying to help as much as they can, and you’re good at faking it. for the most part, at least. it’s been five days, but they’ve all been unusual. you didn’t even go out and drink during the weekend, though you heard the music blaring next door like usual.

it doesn’t help that it’s been a rather dreary sunday, and the last thing you want to do is get out of bed. the rain patters against your window, and you watch the drops roll down the glass.

it makes your own eyes water, which you suppose is overdue. your sour thoughts have been swirling around your head for far too long, and you haven’t had any kind of release.

no yelling, no crying. just dull lifeless eyes staring at the passing clouds. but you can feel it coming now, and as much as you want to stop it, you can’t.

at first the tears fall silently, that is until you start to sniffle. and then your nose won’t stop running, and your pillow is completely damp, and you feel like a total idiot.

it’s worse that the only person you can chastise is yourself. you’re the one who ran out on him, the one who said you regretted sleeping together.

but you know for sure now that you don’t. you like the way chris makes you feel, the chase. it’s irrational to get this close to him, to risk letting him use and dispose of you. you’re aware that it’s very likely.

chris has a reputation that he wears with pride, and it’s silly to think that you’re going to be the one to change his ways. but you can choose to work with them instead of against them.

you shoot up in bed, almost like a switch has been flipped in your body. you’re still crying, and you know you’re not looking your best with puffy bloodshot eyes. but none of it matters, because you’ve already dealt with radio silence for nearly a week and you need to talk to him. it can’t wait any longer.

you’re not exactly sure what you’re going to say, but you figure it’ll come to you in the moment like it always does with chris. so you race downstairs and jam your sneakers on before flying out the front door.

the rain is freezing on your skin, pattering hard and fast against your body as it mixes with your tears. you can feel yourself getting soaked as your shoes squish into the ground.

you’ve walked this path very frequently in the past few weeks, far more than you ever expected to.

you silently hope this won’t be the last.

you take the steps up to the front door two at a time, not hesitating to pound on the wood as soon as you’re close enough. you’re actually mid-knock when it opens, and your knuckle collides with chris’s chest.

he raises his eyebrows, looking at you incredulously like he’s not sure what you’re doing here or why you just hit him.

you practically jump back, yanking your hand away quickly. “shit—sorry. i didn’t mean to do that.”

your words hang there, waiting to be replied to, but it doesn’t come. chris remains silent, studying you carefully, trying to decide if he should close the door in your face.

but he can’t bring himself to do it, because you look so upset, and he can tell you’ve been crying which breaks his heart more.

“i, uh, came over to say i’m sorry. for what i said the other day.” you continue, taking a single step closer to try and find some shelter from the storm.

“it’s whatever.” he shrugs you off easily.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek, trying to work up the courage to tell the truth. you can tell he’s growing impatient, still angry with the way you left things.

you don’t blame him.

“and i also wanted to say that i…i don’t regret it. and i shouldn’t have left like that.” you finally admit, voice quiet as you gaze at him.

his pretty blue eyes go wide, completely shocked by this confession. that was the last thing he expected you to say, and it makes his cheeks grow warm.

he’s annoyed by the fact that his red face is clearly a dead giveaway, because you smile softly at his reaction.

“really?” he asks.

“don’t make me say it twice, christopher.” you point a finger at him.

he takes a step closer, leaning down just a little bit to look you at you directly. he’s smirking now too, and you know that his ego has made a full recovery.

“i want to hear you say it over and over, baby.” chris breathes against your mouth.

he hovers, and you know you need to prove yourself to him. so you wrap a damp hand around the back of his neck and pull him the rest of the way, smashing your lips against his.

all of your pent up aggression and intensity go into the kiss, and it’s making you weak in the knees as one of his hands finds your hip and the other finds your ass. he clearly doesn’t care about the fact that you’re dripping wet, and you suddenly feel like you’re wet in a completely different way.

you can also tell he’s trying to be dominant, but you’re the one who ends up clamping down on his bottom lip lightly. he gives your ass a firm smack in response, and you gasp just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

after the time apart, you can’t seem to get close enough to him, and you’re clawing at his back like you want to crawl into his skin. chris is actually the one to push himself from you first, though he still rests his forehead against yours.

“come inside?”

you laugh under your breath. “i’m literally soaked.”

“you’re also shivering, and you should probably get into a shower.” he attempts to persuade you, leaning in to steal one more peck.

you smile against his lips, shaking your head once he pulls away. “i think i’m too terrified of your bathroom.”

“well yours is free too.” chris points out before slipping by you into the rain, his fingers closing around your own as he pulls you along.

and you let him, following the boy back out into the downpour because you truly want to.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey!au #neighbor au #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

brute

abby anderson x reader

cw : hockey!abby , cheerleader!reader , modern!au , m*n , bigotry , usage of slurs ( fag ) , incel , alluded frat tactics ( roof*es ) , violence .

wc : 2.4K

a / n : if you see any grammatical issues , SQUINT , ive never proofread a single thing in my entire life

You shuffled into your seat, letting your bag drop onto the floor next to your feet. It was pretty quiet in the rink, the soft sound of chattering coming from the locker rooms as you settled in– fishing around in your stuff for your laptop. It was a slow day for you, only a couple classes worth of homework to complete, so you’d decided to tag along with Abby to practice for a show while you fought your calculus assignments. Since it was the start of the season, new kids had been brought onto the team which made a ton of sense as a gaggle of 19 year olds raced down the aisles toward the ice– just barely missing your water bottle. “Jeez.” You huffed, pulling your stuff further from the walkway, not willing to risk the ridiculously expensive tumbler Abby had gotten you.

It wasn’t unusual for you to accompany her, seeing as the rink was like a second home to you, the team not minding for the most part– Abby had joked before that the judgment of a pretty girl whipped them more into shape, their plays being better when you were around compared to when you werent.

Abby was beyond annoyed already, following behind the newbies with a scowl. This was the worst part of a new season, given that these kids didn’t know the ways of the team, not that she fully blamed them. She just hated the prospect of dealing with multiple egotistical freshmen in such a small place, their voices managing to carry throughout the entire rink. She held her skates close to her side, nudging the rink door open with the tip of her toes, settling onto one of the benches to finish gearing up for practice. Her nerves were already shot, having the captain of the men's team call up to the rink saying that he’d managed to get sick– meaning she’d be taking on both teams for drills. She’d debated calling the whole thing off, not wanting a repeat of the fiasco last year.

“You gonna make it?” A voice called from behind her, making her crane her neck as she shoved her feet into the skates, the owner of said voice making her roll her eyes. Nora and Mel were walking together just a ways behind her, sliding into the box before the door shut, their helmets and skates hitting the floor as they sat on either side of the girl. “How much do you wanna bet she bites one of their heads off before practice ends?” The two girls had a habit of betting on her downfall and whilst she knew it was all in good fun, seeing as they held some responsibility as co-captains, it still made her heart jump.

The blonde clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. “Don’t start this again.”

Mel laughed, glancing down to mess with the strap on her gloves. “I got fifty on it being that guy,” She began, using her head to nod towards a dark haired guy on the ice. He was laughing loud enough to fill the entire rink, the sound piercing her ears as she shook her head slightly. “That might end up being me though, super annoying.”

Abby chuckled, easing the helmet over her braid, making sure to tuck the end into the back of her jersey. “He is really annoying, I think that’s the same guy that transferred from UW.” She added, “I heard he made a big deal out of practicing co-ed.” She slid her gloves over her chilly fingers, eying the boy for a second before bringing her gaze up to the benches around the rink– like she always did, searching for you. It didn’t take long, seeing as you always sat in the same place, her heart squeezing slightly at the sight. You were cross-legged on the bench, her massive varsity jacket swallowing you whole as you tapped away on your computer– a frown etched into your sweet face. She knew how much you hated math, so it didn’t take her long to figure out what you were doing, a smile tugging at her lips as she tore her eyes from you.

“Let's hope he behaves, hm?” Nora sighed, pulling open the second door to step out onto the ice– holding it open for the other two. “If not, god, I don’t even wanna know.”

The girl nodded, standing up as she double checked her mouth guard. It was especially cold, as she made her way onto the ice, a chill biting at her exposed cheeks. Her time away from the sport had reflected on her temperature gauge more than anything, making her shudder slightly. “Is everyone here?” She spoke up, coming to a stop in the middle of the rink, tapping her skate slightly on the ice. It was a habit she’d managed to pick up from you, seeing as you prefaced all of your jumps with the tinestest of taps, she carried it like a piece of you on every rink she played on.

One of the boys shrugged, looking to the group behind him before nodding out of the rink, trading her attention for another. Their conversations were low and muffled, only a stray chortle echoing as they found a way to quiet down. She was equally grateful and annoyed.

Abby brushed it off, doing a quick headcount as she tried to figure out how many they’d be down, her patience wearing even thinner as she tried to focus over the bickering from the group in front of her. They had a nasty habit of not coexisting on the best terms, their compliance contractual. She dropped her attention from the teams as she saw Nora waving from the side, her feet propelling her forward to meet the girl in the middle– fingers still toying with the thick mouthguard in her hand. “What’s up?” It was unlike Nora to look so nervous, setting her brow into a downturn as she bent slightly to level with the girl. “Nora, what is it?”

“We might have a problem, I'm not sure, but it definitely sounds like a problem.”

You groaned as you snapped the computer shut, moving your now free hand to rub your temple, there was nothing less enthusing than math. The worksheets you’d been assigned were incomplete, and you only figured that out once you were pretty much done, so all of your work was for nothing– seeing as when you checked your email an entirely new set had been assigned. It was enough to make you want to drop out, the prospect of doing anymore work sending a pang into your head. You shoved the laptop back into its sleeve before tucking it back into your bag, leaning back to rest against the row of seats just above you. You pulled your wrist up to hover above you, eyes locking onto the time. You made a small noise of confusion, sitting up on your elbows to look into the rink– they all were just standing around, Abby and Nora tucked away near the middle with their backs turned to you. They should’ve already started by now.

“Weird.” You muttered, to no one but yourself, as you picked yourself up off of the bench. You grabbed your phone from your stuff and tucked it into your oversized pocket, stepping down the rows until you were right in front of the plexi-glass– breath creating a thick haze on the chilled material. You settled into one of the rink-side seats, just simply glazing over the players before your attention was caught by a couple freshmen. They were standing just outside of a group, their conversation too far for you to hear, but their stares were hard to miss. It made your stomach churn, prompting you to sink lower into your seat as you pulled your phone out to distract yourself. You weren’t not used to men staring, it was just something that came with being a girl, though you could seem to shake the feeling of dread that had lit in your stomach as you scrolled mindlessly through your feed.

Abby’s heart was pounding in her chest, mouth set into a harsh line as she followed Nora’s hushed whispers. Internally, there were alot of things she’d considered doing. Externally, she kept her feet steady on the ice. She had to give him a chance, right? There was some underlying theme of second chances at play, there had to be– but from the grim expression on Nora’s face, she doubted it. The blood had begun to rush to her head, a loud beating in her ears pulling her from the conversation at hand, hand coming up to stop the girl in front of her. “Let me handle this–,” She began, being cut off promptly.

“You can’t hit him, Abby.” The girl sighed, crossing her arms over her stomach as she glanced warily between the boy and Abby. “He’s just a freshman, just go– I dunno, knock him down a peg.”

She nodded, pulling her helmet off and handing it over to Nora. “I won’t hit him, promise.” She toyed with the straps on her gloves for a moment before, also, pulling them off and tucking them into her now empty helmet. While, yes, she had no real plans to hit him– she wasn’t ruling it out. Her feet dug into the ice, pushing off into his direction, a thousand different approaches coming to mind. She couldn’t deny the anger she felt, some of the comments Nora repeated making her nauseous, though in some fucked way– that’s just the way the wold had come to be. Boys said things about you more often than not, they always had innocent intent though– something these seemed to be lacking in their grotesque banter. Abby wasn’t one to let things like this slide, everyone knew that.

Everyone but them, as they missed her overwhelming presence behind them– still snickering behind locked arms. “The things I'd do to get her, I mean come on! Look at her.” The blonde spoke, nudging the brunette with his elbow.

“I know, I know. Imagine finding her at a frat party, I’d like to get her a drink– if you catch my drift.”

Abby’s jaw tensed, a heavy hand coming to lock onto the boy's shoulder. With ease, she spun him around on his skates, his lanky frame wobbling from the sudden change in motion. “Don’t speak. I don’t care what you’re getting at or what your excuse is. That girl you’re talking about isn’t available, nor would she be interested, not that it seems you’d care. Keep your rapist comments to yourself or find the door.” Her voice was low, fingers now digging into the clothed flesh of his shoulder, face a couple shades paler from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She wanted to hit him, god so bad, but she resisted– her resolve holding for the moment being. There was nothing she hated more than the audacity of men, her spine straightening as she stood to her full height– peering down at him, hoping that he would catch her drift and fuck off.

The brunette snorted, shrugging her hold off with a cocky smile, other boy suddenly uninterested in ‘locker room’ talk. He shook his head, throwing up his hands in a mock gesture. “You feminists and calling all men ‘rapists’, you’re the real problem with society.” He jeered, looking around as if someone else would agree with him. “That girl isn’t even your problem, so why do you care?”

An incredulous smile graced her lips as she let her arms come to rest intertwined against her tense stomach, nodding slowly. “‘That girl’ as you call her, is my business. You see that jacket she’s wearing?” She asked, taking a tiny step forward. “It’s mine. She’s mine.” It was clear, to anyone who had begun to tune into the conversation, that the last piece of self-control she had was breaking. She was pretty good about keeping her cool, usually, seeing as she wasn’t banned from the rink yet– but the look on his face made her rage double, making violence seem like the better option than just letting him go with a warning.

“Oh, I get it. You’re a fag–,”

You’d come out of your seat, phone angled towards the rink with the intention to snap a couple of pictures of Abby. It was something you’d taken to doing during games, a folder now dedicated in your phone to the candids. You clicked the button to snap the picture, instead hovering too long and starting up a video, making you groan slightly before peering into the screen for a moment– seeing the moment Abby’s fist collided with the boy's nose, a sickening crack filling the rink. ”Oh my god.” You breathed, glancing around to the observing parties– seeing them do next to nothing to stop the brawl.

The boy managed to hit her once before becoming subdued by the girl, subdued meaning crumpled onto the ice in the fetal position, his hands now clasping the crooked bone protruding from the flesh. His friends had knelt down around him, hands poking around at his face in attempts to help. “You fucking bitch!” He groaned, blood leaking down his hands and seeping into the fabric of his uniform.

“Yeah, I’m the bitch.” Abby sneered, tongue gliding over her teeth before she spat a mouth full of blood onto the ice beside him. “You’re off the team. Don’t bother coming back.” She hummed, turning on her heel to glide towards the door closest to her– your petrified face coming into view as she did so. “Practice is canceled. Go home.” She said finally, pulling the door open.

You stared up at her, mouth opening and closing for a second before you settled on a question. “What happened?”

The blonde glanced back behind her, the eyes of the team lingering on her, before she dipped down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. The contrast between her bloody lips and the soft cushion of her hand coming to rest on the back of your head was dizzying– but you didn’t complain, the metallic taste seeping into your mouth as you chased her lips. When she finally managed to pull away, there was a smear of blood on the flesh of your bottom lip– making her chuckle.

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

#hockey!abby #hockey!au #hockey!abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abbyanderson #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #tlou hbo #hockey abby my beloved

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nerdraging4point0 · 1 month

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Power Play// Chapter Five // Hockey!player AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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Sarah's POV

My heart is pounding in my ears as I'm pressed up against the wall, desperately trying to swipe my keycard while his mouth devours my neck. He bites a sensitive piece of my skin and I almost drop the keycard, barely saving it between my fingers. His hips grind into me, my dress riding up as I start to slip out of my heels. Every nerve in my body is electrified, desire coursing through my veins. I can't get the door open fast enough. The door's lock finally clicks open and the buzz of freedom rings in my ears. Unable to contain myself, I push down on the handle with eager force, spilling us into the room in a heated tangle of limbs. We stumble into the hotel room in a frenzy, his hands already roaming my body as he kicks the door closed behind us. Our lips crash together in a fiery kiss that steals my breath away. I tear at his shirt buttons impatiently while his fingers explore my thighs, inching my dress higher.

Everything tingles as he touches me, heat pooling low in my belly. I break the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt off and run my hands over his toned chest before claiming his lips once more. He presses me back against the wall, his hard body flush against mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, moaning softly as I feel his cock press into me. His hands grip my hips roughly as he grinds against me. Arching into him, nails raking down his back. Every cell in my body is screaming for him. I've never wanted someone so badly.

My purse and keys tumble to the floor, barely hearing them land over the pounding of my heart. My arms wrap tight around his strong shoulders and he bends down, gripping my thighs to hoist me up. I cling to him desperately, legs locked around his waist, as he carries me effortlessly like a koala toward the bed. His confident stride and the warmth of his body pressed against mine makes my head spin with desire. I run my hands through his thick hair and lean in to kiss his neck as he lowers me onto the soft mattress.

My fingers are mesmerized as they trail the intricate black ink etched into his tanned skin, following the curves and lines of the elaborate tattoos that covered his muscular body. Starting at his broad shoulders, the dark designs swirling down his strong back and wrapping around to his chiseled chest before extending up his thick neck. He was absolutely covered in mesmerizing artwork, and I was enthralled, my eyes hungrily taking in every detail.

"Like what you see, little fox?" he teased, his deep voice rumbling with amusement as he noticed my captivation. I glanced up to meet his intense gaze, my eyes locking with his.

"Little fox?" I questioned in confusion, trying unsuccessfully to tilt my head as I pondered this new nickname. But with my long hair pinned underneath me, I couldn't quite achieve the right angle. Noticing my struggle, he gently pulled a lock of my ombre hair free, holding the red-to-white balayage strands out in front of me.

"Little fox," he murmured again, a smile playing on his lips as he twirled the platinum-tipped lock between his fingers. "My little fox." the words quietly ghosting over my cheek.

"This is so wrong," I whisper breathlessly as he leans in, his face mere inches from mine. My heart pounds rapidly in my chest as his strong hands grasp my thigh, hoisting my leg around his waist. I feel the fabric of his slacks scrape against my bare skin as he kneels onto the bed, positioning himself between my trembling legs. His cock presses insistently against my entrance, hungry and wanting, ready to claim me. I know I should stop this, but my traitorous body arches into him, aching for more of his touch.

His lips brush mine in a feather-light caress, sending tingles of electricity along my spine. "Then tell me what you like, let me make it right," he murmurs, his husky voice dripping with desire.

His face dips low, his mouth hot next to my right ear, “Do you like to be fucked first?” I can feel his warm breath on my skin as he whispers sensually in my ear, his lips brushing against me. Kissing my cheek he moves over to my left, “Or do you like to be eaten first?” his tongue flicking at my earlobe. I'm torn, both sound incredible. As his tongue dances along my earlobe, I let out a soft moan, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

As his fingers trail down my stomach, I gasp, arching into him. He chuckles low in his throat, clearly enjoying teasing me. I want him, all of him.

"I-I-I want it all," I pant feeling his lips kiss down the side of my neck, his teeth just barely grazing my skin. His hands are sliding my dress up my hips, bunching the fabric under my breasts, a chill hitting the damp spot of my lace panties. His touch electric, palms gliding over my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I arched into him, desperate for more. He was like a man possessed, hands roaming greedily, stroking and caressing every inch he could reach. His hungry lips trailed fire across my skin as he explored me with an urgent passion, his warm palms spreading heat everywhere they touched. I was lost in sensation, drowning in the feel of his hands and mouth worshiping my body. My nerves were alive, hypersensitive to his electrifying caresses. I wanted all of him, needed him to quench the aching desire he had sparked deep inside me.

"Dealers choice then," his words are breathy and tickle the top of my breasts as he trails down to the exposed part of my chest, my hands instinctively grabbing at the sides of his face holding him firmly as he starts to move his lips down my sternum.

The red dress I was wearing is suddenly gone, his mouth dropping open immediately closing over my right breast. I gasp as he takes my tight pink nipple into his warm mouth, sucking it hard enough to make my knees weak. My chest heaves up and down as his growls vibrate through my sensitive skin. My sigh of pure pleasure made him moan into my tender flesh. Finding his rhythm, he released my aching breast and moved lower, reaching my lace panties. He wasted no time pulling them down my legs with eager hands.

“So wet,” his voice rumbled, “I’m gonna fucking wreck you.'' The possession and determination in his words has me whimpering, grabbing the pure white comforter in anticipation. Stepping off the bed, he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the very edge, throwing my knees over his broad shoulders as his handsome face drops between my trembling thighs. Using his thumbs, he gently spread my lips open before slowly licking up my slick, sensitive folds. My body lurched up in response to his expert touch, and he smiled in satisfaction against me as he languidly lapped at my aching heat.

I’m trembling uncontrollably as Noah's tongue flicked and swirled expertly between my thighs, sending intense waves of pleasure radiating through my core. I couldn't hold back the breathy, desperate moans escaping my parted lips, urging him to keep going, to push me over the edge. My fingers tangled almost painfully in his dark, silky hair, pulling him impossibly closer as I shamelessly grind my hips against his mouth. He grips my thighs firmly, spreading my legs wider, devouring me hungrily like a man starved.

"Noah," I moan wantonly, feeling that sweet, torturous release building within me. "Right there, please don't stop!" I was begging, I don’t ever beg, every inch of my skin burning with need. His low, primal growl sends delicious vibrations straight through my aching center, ramping up the mind-numbing pleasure. When his pace quickened, flicking relentlessly with his talented tongue, I lost all semblance of control, crying out his name in ecstasy as I came undone around him.

My thighs clamp around his head in a futile attempt to stall his tongue, but he is determined to push me over the edge once more. My entire body trembles uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through me. "Please..." I beg, barely able to form the words, "I need you inside me now."

Noah stands up slowly, his intense gaze never leaving mine. I see his chin glistening in the low fluorescent lights, his tongue darting out to lick around his lips; the whole sight made my thighs clench together hard. As he unbuckles his belt the sliding sound of leather through the loops screaming off the walls as he lets his pants and boxers fall to the floor in one motion. His cock springs free, completely naked in front of me. I can see the rest of his body as toned and tattooed as the rest of his muscular form. I yearned to feel him fill me up completely. I move back on the bed, but quick as a fox he grabs my ankle and tugs me to the edge, lifting me effortlessly into his strong arms. In one smooth motion he spins us around and presses my back against the wall by the nightstand, desire burning in his eyes. He lifts my leg, placing my foot on the small chest and nudging the lamp aside.

"You'll need to stay balanced," he purred with a playful wink. Gripping himself firmly, he lines up with my entrance, sliding his swollen head over my sensitive nub before driving himself into me in one powerful stroke. I cry out as he fills me to the hilt, our bodies joining together.

His strong hands grip my thighs firmly as he holds me pinned against the wall, his hips driving into me relentlessly. My mind was lost in a haze of desire, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through me. Each powerful thrust filled me completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that made my back arch and toes curl. I clung to him, my arms wrapped tightly around his muscular shoulders, nails digging into his skin. My cries and whimpers echoed through the room, intermixed with his own grunts of pleasure. I could feel the pressure building with each plunge of his cock, the fire in my core burning hotter and hotter.

"Yes, please," I begged breathlessly, urging him on, desperate for the release my body craved. His voice was rough in my ear as he responded, growling those words - "That's it little fox, make those sweet noises for me."

Noah’s POV

My little fox is mine. All mine. The voice in my head that tells me this is a bad idea, that coach is gonna find out, that i’m gonna be benched for the whole fucking season-I locked him away when I kissed her at the bar. He can fuck off.

Tonight. She’s mine.

My thighs push and my ass clenches as I drive my cock deeper into her, she’s soaking the inside of her thighs and it’s covering me starting to drip down my legs, all of it dirty and filthy and I want more.

She is crying out and panting in my ear, her hands are everywhere, she gives a good scream and stills, her walls clench around me and I smile.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” I praise her as her forehead drops to rest on my shoulder. I take her in my arms, dropping her again on the bed, her hair fans out around her until I take her legs and flip her on her stomach. She already knows what I want, crawling up to her hands and knees for me. I kneel down on the bed spreading her legs open fitting perfectly between them, her back arching and ass pressing into me. It’s so beautiful.

“Tell me, little fox, do you want me to wreck you?” I lean forward folding myself over her as I whisper into her ear. She whimpers in response. I don’t know if it’s to what I said or the fact that my fingers are currently playing with her clit. “Use your words, baby,”

The tension between us is palpable as she flips her silky hair over her shoulder, glancing back at me with desire in her eyes. "Wreck me, I fucking know you can," she purrs, her voice dripping with lust.

Unable to resist, I firmly slapped her round ass and positioned myself behind her, ready to fulfill her request. Just as I was about to plunge balls deep in her, a thought dawned on me that made my heart sink. "Fuck," I muttered, pulling away abruptly. Confused, she sat up on her knees, using the sheets to cover her perfect body like I was suddenly offended by her being naked.

"What?" she asked, her flushed cheeks turning pink with embarrassment, as if my hesitation was a rejection of her. I sighed, cursing myself for not thinking ahead.

"I don't have a condom," I admitted regretfully. Her face softened into an understanding smile as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Do you have a disease or something?" she giggled playfully. I bristled slightly at the insinuation.

"No, I just don't want any surprises down the road," I explained. Though I'd been with a few puck bunnies, I always played it safe and got tested regularly. But I wasn't ready for the responsibility of fatherhood yet.

"Well lucky for you, I'm not looking to get knocked up either," she teased, pointing to her birth control implant resting in her arm. Relief washed over me, knowing we were on the same page. I smiled and pulled her in for a passionate kiss, ready to pick up where we left off.

I press her body firmly into the mattress, folding her in half so she is presented to me like my favorite Christmas present. I press my knees between her ankles spreading her open as I drive myself into her again, feeling the familiar and deep stretch of her pussy around me. My hands grab her hips for stability as I thrust but it’s not enough, I’m not getting deep enough. I want more.

“oh, fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck let me see that pretty face, let me see you while you take that dick.” I leaned over her body taking her face by the cheeks turning her head so she was glancing at me from over her shoulder. “Fuck yeah, look at you. So, pretty.” I watched her pretty eyes roll back in her head as I repositioned on my knees to continue pounding into her.

I wrap her hair in my hands like a ponytail, watching her back dip as I pull her head toward me. Her body lifts off the bed, my other arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against my chest. With my hand still entwined in her hair, I tilt her neck, my lips and teeth leaving soft purple marks over her skin.

The grip I had on her hair loosens, my fingers are stiff from holding onto her strands so tight. I let the digits relax before sliding my hands around the front of her body, cupping her breast as I circle my thumbs over her pert nipples that instantly harden to my touch. Her body is begging for me. To be broken by me. Rolling her puckered buds between my thumb and forefinger, I give them a good pinch. She shrieks and rocks back onto me in time with each thrust.

“Noah,” her whines and the way my name comes out in that soft way makes everything in me twitch with need. I snake my hand up between her breasts and rest my fingers around her throat, testing the waters. She leans into my touch as I squeeze slightly, not to cut off the airway. My free hand slides between her thighs to their intended target. She fucks herself against me as my fingers continue their assault on her sensitive clit.

“I’m almost there, baby. I got you.” Her body seizes and rolls back against my chest as I grip her tight, folding her in half so she falls forward on her palms. I fuck her through the aftershock, my thrusts becoming sporadic as I pump her full of my cum until its dripping down her thick thighs.

Sarah's POV

It hasn't even been a week, but with the chaos of three more away games and now a home game tonight, my head has hardly been able to process everything. Correction - I have processed it all with Melissa and she has been encouraging me every step of the way. Noah hasn't even looked at me once since that night. It's probably for the best that way, what with my dad being around at the games and practices. I know dad would freak out if he had any clue about what happened between me and Noah. He's always been overprotective. Still, it hurts not having Noah even acknowledge my existence. Now there's just cold indifference - like I'm no one to him anymore. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he wants to pretend it never happened. Most guys would probably react the same way. But that doesn't make it sting any less. Every time I glance hopefully in Noah's direction and am met with averted eyes, it's like a knife twisting in my heart.

The boys are on the ice warming up and I'm against the glass watching each players' moves with precision eyes. The last game Dominick subbed and took a hard hit to the legs, he was limping off the ice, but it was better in a few days later. As he skates around pushing his blades hard on the ice to come to a stop I watch to make sure he isn't favoring that knee. I notice his stride is strong and even, no hitch or stutter as he circles around the net. His crossover is smooth, knee bending deeply, weight shifting perfectly from leg to leg. A good sign his knee has healed. While my eyes watch Dominick's recovering form, Noah crosses into my vision and I'm distracted. Noah is a force on the ice, aggressive and fast, but sometimes too reckless. As he winds up and fires off a blistering slapshot I wince, hoping he doesn't injure himself or a teammate. The puck rockets into the top corner of the net, the loud ping echoing through the rink. Noah circles back, pumping his fist, eyes blazing with that fierce intensity he brings to every game. I know I should keep evaluating Dominick's knee, but I can't draw my eyes away from Noah's powerful strides and coiled energy.

Noah glides effortlessly across the ice, his helmet removed to reveal his soft brown locks flowing in the cool arena air. With an energetic grin spread wide across his flushed cheeks, he playfully bumps into his teammate Ruffilo, showing his lighthearted spirit. Noah's inner child emerges as he begins spinning and twirling across the slick surface, his lithe body sweeping into tight circles like a spinning top. His joyful energy is infectious, yet cuts deeply into my heart, worsening the gnawing ache I've felt since we parted ways. I force myself to shake off the pain as I refocus my gaze on the goal net, where Sanders is loudly screwing around.

Sanchez, Pierce, and Karlsson relentlessly hammer Sanders's knees with their hockey sticks, playfully shrieking as they jab at him in an attempt to poke their pucks past his sprawled legs and into the net behind him. Sanders laughs as he withstands the assault on his knees, trying his best to block the pucks despite the barrage of sticks poking into his joints. Eventually, the three give up their attack, grabbing their pucks as they circle around, chuckling at their failed goal attempts. Sanders, relieved, rises back to his feet and glides around the perimeter of the net, catching his breath. He sees Karlsson making another approach, stickhandling a puck as he winds up for a slapshot.

"Here comes six-two, I think he will get it through," Sanders chants mockingly, Karlsson leans into the shot, striking the puck with all his might and sending it careening towards the top corner of the net. But Sanders is ready,snagging the puck from mid-air with a dramatic flourish of his glove. "Oh, look what I got," he crows, waving the trapped puck teasingly at the frustrated Karlsson.

Karlsson shakes his head in frustration as he flies around the net, stickhandling the puck but unable to find an opening to shoot through the impenetrable wall of Sanders' pads and blocker. Sanders nonchalantly tosses the practice puck out of his glove as he resets his focus on his teammates lined up for shooting drills. Pierce comes swooping in, faking left then cutting right as he winds up for a blistering slapshot. Sanders effortlessly crouches, trapping the puck between his pads with a satisfying smack.

"Fuck you, Sandy," Pierce teases as he playfully taps Sanders on his goalie mask with the blade of his stick.

"Your dick's gotta be bigger than your stick for me to ride it," Sanders retorts with a chuckle. Pierce rolls his eyes and turns away from the net, a wry smile crossing his face. "But I'm always willing to pitch instead! Love ya, Eric!" Their friendly trash talk echoes over the ice as the team continues honing their skills during practice.

The buzzer sounds concluding warm ups and I make my way back to my spot by the team bench. The game soon starts as the Gladiators take their positions. It’s several uneventful periods, a few penalties, a couple points on both sides. But I watch closely, the gladiators tend to be ruthless when the chips are down, now that we are coming close to time I’m seeing them start to push and hit with more force. As the game clock winds down, the intensity on the ice ramps up. The Gladiators, known for their aggressive and hard-hitting style of play, seem to hit another gear. They forecheck ferociously, finish every check, and battle furiously for every loose puck. Their hits echo through the arena as bodies crash against the boards. The referee's whistle pierces the air frequently now as tempers flare and penalties mount. The Gladiators' frustration boils over as they try desperately to tie the game up before time expires. Sticks slam, gloves get dropped, and punches are thrown as scrums break out after nearly every whistle. The fans are on their feet, living and dying with every big hit and scoring chance. My heart pounds with excitement but also concern as I watch my teammates get rocked again and again.

It all happens like a car accident. The team is on the ice, defense by the goal as our offense attempts to retrieve the puck. There is a golden opportunity, and I see Noah charge forward for the puck. He doesn’t see it; I don’t think any of us did. Boswell charges from his blind spot, slamming into Noah’s right arm so hard Noah is bulldozed over Boswell, landing on the ice directly on his shoulder. The sickening crunch of shoulder meeting ice echoes through the sudden silence of the rink. In an instant, the momentum of the game comes to a screeching halt as all eyes turn to Noah writhing in pain on the ice.

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