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thatsdemko · 6 months

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the other matthews - m.knies

masterlist

pairing: matthew knies x fem!matthews!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + oral (f receiving) + build up

a/n: slightly inspired by the book icebreaker by Hannah grace… happy frozen frenzy! leafs won and I’m here to spread the good vibes!

he’s not lost—well maybe. it’s his fault for listening to Mitch’s advice on trying new places that aren’t around his apartment, and now he’s twenty minutes away with a bag of cold food and an empty stomach. so much for listening to his teammates that’s his rookie mistake.

you’d seen him pace around the same block at least five times. his golden brown hair flops in the Toronto breeze under his beanie, and if it wasn’t for feeling the Canadian kindness you wouldn’t have extended the empty seat across from you for him.

“do you know where we are?” he’s shivering. the maple leafs sweatshirt wasn’t keeping him warm, and the phone in his hand has gone cold. his finger tips are red mixture with white, not even his pockets or a warm cup of hot chocolate could keep him warm.

“well for you, you’re about a ten minute walk, for me, it’s it’s around the corner.”

his eyebrows shift upwards, head cocks to the right like a puppy confused, “do I know you?” he would’ve just assumed you were a leafs fan happy to have him across from you, or just an overall good citizen, but you knowing his exact coordinates? maybe you’re a stalker— he’s hoping it’s not that.

“depends, but you really should get home. my brother wouldn’t like to see you in his spot.”

said brother was emerging from the bathroom, and in the corner of his eyes was a storm of a big nightmare. broad shoulders and bulging biceps were enough to alert him out of the seat and out the door.

“who was that?”

“just another lost American.”

—

“what are you doing here?”

he’s a little shocked, a thick golden brown hair pulled back from his shower, he looks good but that’s not what you’re supposed to be focused on. you’re waiting for your brother to exit out that locker room so you can head to his apartment and his fluffy guest bed.

his mind races a million places, his first stalker? a teammates sibling he may, or hopefully not of, hooked up with? a leafs team member? he’s thankful for the locker room door opening to put a halt on his racing mind.

“hey, you ready to go?”

the broad figure reappears, it’s startling almost and instead of running like the last time, he sticks around to find out that the terrifying brother, was his own teammate. Auston Matthews.

“yeah! I’m just getting acquainted with your rookie.” you point in his direction, making your brothers head snap in the direction of Matthew. he looked shaken, a bit shocked and confused.

“ah,” Auston sighs throwing an arm around his rookies shoulders, “don’t get too comfortable, she’s only here for another week.”

his brown eyes dart between you and Auston, the connections finally sinking. your facial features awfully similar to Auston’s and your smiles deepen within the same creases, how could he be such a fool to never realize that? all along you knew him as your brothers teammate, and he knew you as just a girl with infinite amount of knowledge.

“another week?” his voice comes out squeaky, like the air in his lungs are trapped by the new found information. it’s the first time he actually looked at you as more than just someone, he took the chance to finally recognize your beauty and your similarities to the man that stands beside you.

“yeah I had back to school next week.”

all he can do is nod. he can’t breathe. not a single word exits his mouth as he waves you two off and a hand claps over his shoulder allowing the air to escape his lungs, “she’s way out of your league.” Mitch’s voice rings his ears.

“she’s Auston’s sister.”

“youngest, may I add.” Mitch spins into Matthew’s view, “and didn’t you listen to Auston last week? no dating his sisters especially y/n. swear your mind is always in outer space.”

and Mitch wasn’t entirely wrong. while Matthew was present for his teammates “my sister is coming” speech matthew was not expecting Auston’s sister to be a five foot something beauty with thick dark brown locks that have his mind in a twisted game.

“I was present,” he swallows turning his head back to the exit where you’re long gone, “but I wasn’t entirely present.”

—

the charity event is packed with old rich men accompanied by young girls, and it exhausted you. handshake after handshake nothing seemed to change, their donations were generous but you grew up boredom quickly after the second round of handshaking.

the drink slides across the bar, and it doesn’t take a second to register in your mind who it could be, because by the time your eyes flicker up from the cocktail matthew is beside you, “so you failed to mention Auston.”

“our conversations kept running short.” you offer a weary smile taking the rim to your lips, sipping down the alcohol.

“they were long enough for you to throw in your older brothers name.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, still taking long sips of the drink in your hands here and there, “I thought you were smart enough to figure it out. I guess I gave you too much credit.”

“don’t sell me too short, y/n.” he gives you a cocky grin. it’s one you want to swallow whole and knock him silly, but it ignited a fire in your stomach you were sure was not there prior to this. you blame his ability to dress clean. it’s definitely messing with you.

“prove me wrong then, prove to me you’re smart.” it’s definitely the alcohol talking, but you know he’s a determined individual. if he’s anything like your brother, he loves a good competition, and you can see the spark in his eyes.

“I can do that, doll.” he steps closer, his brown eyes are darker than they were before. you hadn’t noticed his hand was resting on your hip until he pulled you closer to his chest, “I bet I can find your clit faster than any other man could.” his voice is low, it vibrates against your eardrum making your body curl closer to his with a chill down your spine.

your mouth is dry, the only thing you can do is cock your head upwards and hope your eyes are testing him, and with your luck, he’s whisking you off to the nearest bathroom.

your heart is hammering against your chest. taking one last glance behind you, your brother is nowhere in sight and thank fuck he’s not when Matthew locks the door and slams your body against the steel door.

his tongue is fierce, fighting and playing with yours, you’re both exchanging saliva at this point. he’s lift you up by the back of your thighs. setting you on the edge of the sink, he kneels down tossing your legs over his shoulders. it shouldn’t be such a hot scene, but damn it was, especially when his lips just ghost your inner thighs, and his fingers dance your wet panties.

you have to bite down on your bottom lip, you’re so wet just by his touch you can’t help wanting to let the moan out.

he’s patient, takes his time it’s almost like he’s forgotten the mission until his tongue nudged your entrance and you’re washed with a different emotion. one you’d never felt before, it made your legs shake, whatever his tongue was doing he must’ve found the clit and it was definitely not by accident when he nudged it again.

you role yourself closer to his face, he pulls away quickly before cum is all he can see, “didn’t even need a map, it’s just too easy.”

“you’re a prick, knies.”

“Aw we were just getting to know each other, Matthews.”

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zoe-is-amazingg · 4 months

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Why'd you only call me when your high?

18+

Mark Estapa X F Reader

Summary - You've always had feelings for him, but he only evers calls you when he's high.

W/C - 1.5 k

Warnings - Drinking and smoking, kissing, fluff, angst, like kinda smut to very little. swearing and mentions of smut

A/N - start requesting hockey guys pookies 😘😘

You were always helping Mark. Fucking Mark. The guy would couldn't seem to not be inlove with blunts and weed as you were inlove with him. Everything was so fucking pathetic to your friends, but you needed the slightest bit of attention from him that you could manage.

So, at 3am, Ethan called you, claiming him and Mark were not currently under the influence, but they were. If either one of them calls you at 3am, Mark was high. Doesnt even matter if any of his friends told him not to, he found a longing in it.

"Y/n, Mark needs you." Ethan mumbles and Mark giggles in the background.

"No." You say, your heart breaking at saying this, but you need to say no. You just couldnt keep saying yes, you would get known for being able to relie on when someone was high. The hockey guys knew you only did this for Mark, some of them tried it once. You needed to say no to Mark just like you say no to his teammates.

The slight gasp you heard from another guy, who your assuming is Dylan. "Shit man, she hates you now." Dylan chuckles. Your eyes narrow in instinct, the quickly go back when you realise it was a phone call.

"I don't hate you Mark, just get sober." You whisper as you hang up. It was heartbreaking, saying no. But you just couldn't bring it to yourself to say yes and let him walk all over you like usual.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Each time your phone vibrates, another ping of pain to your heart. You couldn't help but feel sad about it all, you were rejecting the only form of contact you get from Mark. You open your phone, if you read the text but don't respond, it'll give more impact to him.

Please Y/n For fucks sake Y/n, answer me I need you.

You can't help but chuckle as you turn off your phone, every single time this happens, he comes to your dorm, you don't now how but he gets here somehow. Then you hookup and he ditches in the morning. A horrible cycle of pain for you and a great cycle of pleasure for him.

Each time and everytime you open the front door for him, he kisses you with lust, the weed or whatever he smoked on his breath. Each time and everytime you accept those kisses, he takes off your clothes and you, his. Each time and everytime it gets taken too far. Each time and everytime you try to convince yourself it'll be different. Each time and everytime it isnt, it never is.

So, he better get the fucking memo. You hear a knock on your door and it pulls you out of your train of thought completely. You pray it isnt him, you pray to god. But no praying could ever save him from arriving at your dorm whenever he was high.

"Y/n, please...open the door." He croaks out, you can't really tell if he was crying or if he sounded like that because he just had probably like 3 blunts.

“Mark, I can’t do this anymore.” You say and he groans from behind the door. “Please. You don’t understand”

“What have I done wrong?” He asks. You weren’t one to complain about this, the attention you lusted for from him night after night, but it had just gotten out of hand for the both of you.

“Nothing. I just need you to not be drunk.” You sigh and he groans again.

“Just open the door Y/N.” Mark begs. Then every single memory comes back to you, his dick being in you, filling you up to the brim, his lips trailing on your neck, the sudden euphoric feeling you get when he fucks you.

The longing feeling in your heart was too much to handle at this point.

And as his ears chirped up at the sound of the doorknob rattling as you opened it, he walked straight inside, no kiss or nothing.

You notice his eyes are bloodshot as he turns around to look at you. “I’m sorry.” He says.

“What?” You ask him as he looks at you, a sorry look plaguing his features. “I’m sorry for being a dick, I’m sorry for us hooking up and then ditching, I just- I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N.” He pleads.

You sigh. “If only you weren’t high, you won’t remember this in the morning.” You say, disappointment ringing in your tone.

“But I do, I always have.” Mark says and you tilt your head. “I always remember it, the way we fuck, the way your body feels against mine, the way I can’t wait to get high and do it all over again with you.”

“Then why not mention it?” You ask and he groans.

“Because! I’m scared your going to fucking hate me and never talk to me again if you do,” He cries; not actual tears, in actuality all that he was crying for was for you. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against yours.

And as he does so, the same everything and everytime floods your brain, but you just hope that he doesn’t leave you this time.

#Spotify #mark estapa #mark estapa fluff #hockey x you #hockey x reader #umich blurbs #umich boys #umich wolverines #umich imagine #umich hockey #ethan edwards

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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

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━ 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — written to fill a short n sweet request last year for my patreon fic-mas <3 and if you catch the lil nod to two of our favs, you're a real one

“I know we’ve been having a hard time concentrating this week, which is understandable with all the excitement surrounding the Snowball Dance, but you do have one more day of work before you can totally kick back and check out,” Jeff Skinner, a high school social studies teacher, says after the tardy bell chimes.

The students are settling into their seats but listen intently.

He continues, “That being said, I will still be collecting your annotations for chapters eighteen through twenty that we started during Monday’s class. While I’m doing that, a sign-up sheet for the Unit 5 case study presentations will be floating around the room. If I were you, I’d grab the earliest slot available to get it over with and be done for the semester. But, hey, that’s just me!”

His twelfth-grade AP Government class meets this with a chorus of groans. A subset of students lightheartedly boo him from the back row. Oddly, though, the ruckus pleases him.

Mr. Skinner strives to create a classroom environment where the teens feel comfortable sharing their honest feelings and have the space to do so if they choose. Their vocal push-back signifies their trust in him. He also appreciates their mutinous spirit because it arose after their deep dive into the Declaration of Independence and its twenty-seven grievances; they were combative but in the name of freedom for the cohort and the individual. Jeff saw that as a Teacher Win.

“I know, I know. I’m a tyrant, and you hate me. But unlike this country, this classroom is a monarchy, not a democracy,” he returns the teasing. “And if you looked at our agenda when you walked in this morning, you would’ve seen that—because I am obviously the nicest person ever—I have allocated today’s class period to independent work time. So, you can complete whatever you may need. That means putting any final touches on this week’s chapters, polishing up your Supreme Court case PowerPoints with your partner or group, or finishing any outstanding assignments.

And if you recall, I give full credit for late work, so long as it's on my desk before the cut-off tomorrow at noon. You’re welcome." Sarcasm is his favorite—and most effective—bonding strategy. "If you're squared away, you know where the board games and art supplies are. Just no more explicit drawings. I don’t care, but Mrs. Benson next door does.”

The class laughs, fondly recalling the fiasco the day before Homecoming.

A couple of students decided to use their free time to create a few political illustrations. While they were historically accurate and objectively hilarious, they were not “school appropriate,” according to the 9th-grade Geography teacher who glimpsed the comic strips as she passed the open door.

She demanded Jeff punish the perpetrators for their vulgarity, but instead, he had the drawings laminated and bound into a resource book. Said book has since found a home on a bookshelf, wedged comfortably between Howard Zinn’s A Power Governments Cannot Suppress and The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution by Linda Monk.

In his peripheral vision, Jeff sees a student waiting by the door and invites them in. He segues, “Before I leave you to your own devices, it looks like we have a visitor from ASB. So, please be nice, give them your full attention, and don’t embarrass me. Capiche?”

The class agrees to comply, and the boy, an underclassman if he had to guess, hesitantly walks to the front of the room.

Jeff remembers how intimidating seniors felt when he was that age, so he gives his students a pointed warning over the kid’s shoulder. A few of them perk up, noticeably straightening in their seats.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Leo, and I will be filling in for Gabby today.” He looks down at the printout of the day’s announcements and clears his throat. Then, Leo begins reading them aloud:

“Feeling stressed this finals season? Stop by the quad next week during both A and B lunch blocks to decompress with some therapy dogs. If you need further or individualized support, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will be opening up their schedules for one-on-one sessions. Appointments can be made using the yellow slips in the main office.

Work permits are available in the career counseling hub. If you plan on getting a job or need to renew, please submit an application as soon as possible. No permits will be issued during Winter Break.

Remember that your final exam period is not the same as your regular meeting time or day, so be sure to check your portals this weekend for the updated schedule.

Still need a ticket for the Snowball Dance tomorrow night? Please stop by the ASB room or contact Owen Power, the senior class president, before sixth period today. They’re $15 with an ASB card and $20 without one. Trust me; you don’t want to miss out!"

The audience of seniors cheers, hooting and hollering out their delight. The underclassman beams, confidence swelling, and tucks the script away. His smile grows. “And now…drum roll, please!”

As the students bang their desks with open palms, textbooks, and stray pencils, the ASB student angles a pair of jazz hands towards the open door.

“Santa Claus!”

Peyton, the current school mascot—in an ill-fitting costume that's certainly older than he is—materializes in the empty space. He hauls a lumpy velvet bag over his shoulder as he saunters across the room. The tiny gold bells affixed to the sack twinkle with every step.

“Ho, ho, ho! Candy Cane Gram delivery!” Peyton bellows.

His impression is unexpectedly convincing, in Jeff's humble opinion.

“Santa” roots around in the bag and pulls the first set out. They’re paper-clipped together, indicating both were for the same person. “Taylor Zimmerman? Two for you!”

He passes the slips of paper back to the student who raised her hand.

The distribution of festive notes, an annual fundraiser put on by the junior and senior class councils to bankroll the dance itself, fades into background noise as Mr. Skinner begins looking over the pile of essays he collected last period from his squirrelly 10th-grade World History class.

The prompt had been to explore the impact of globalization in the post-Cold War era, and they’re off to a great start. The first essay's author touches on “transnational actors” and their impact on overall global wealth—in the introductory paragraph. Pride blooms in his chest. Maybe someone had been paying attention after all.

Jeff gets through three and a half papers—all 95% and above, but who’s counting?—before he feels someone standing over him.

“Uh, Mr. Skinner?” Peyton whispers in his civilian voice.

“Yes?” Jeff replies.

To mark his spot, Mr. Skinner sets his pen below a particularly eloquent paragraph highlighting how American consumer culture polluted local ecosystems abroad.

The sophomore nervously looks around the room. After deciding his peers were too engrossed in the social politics of sending and receiving Candy Cane Grams and Ice Court nomination speculation to hear, Peyton pulls a slip of paper out from inside the thick, red coat and sets it on Jeff’s desk. It’s crumpled, and the miniature candy cane is barely hanging on.

“This last one’s for you.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Jeff smiles. The polite expression is meant to relieve the student from his classroom, but Peyton remains glued to his spot. Gently, he asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Krebs?”

“Aren’t you going to see who sent it?” the boy asks, all toothy grin and twinkling eyes.

Well, that’s not at all suspicious, Mr. Skinner thinks as he slides the slip closer.

He scans the generic template, reading his name and room number scrawled beside washed-out festive clipart, but doesn’t understand the fuss... until his eyes drift down to the section for an optional message.

Mr. Skinner,

Just like a snowflake, you’re one of a kind. Be my date to the dance tomorrow night? It would make me SNOW happy!

Jeff almost believes it’s from you. Had he not been familiar with your handwriting, it would have been an excellent forgery. But, he knew your penmanship. Maybe a little too well.

His anchor charts were all in your hand; he could see at least three from where he was sitting. Jeff can’t recall the last time he attempted one on his own.

In exchange for mercifully sparing him from teenage ridicule due to his poor penmanship, he handled the construction and refurbishment of the props and sets necessary for the Winter Showcase and spring musical every year. Whatever you, the brilliant and beloved drama teacher, dreamed up, Jeff dutifully built.

Including, but not limited to, an impressive Audrey II, the iconic Venus flytrap from “Little Shop of Horrors,” a life-size bubble for their Glinda to float around in during performances of “Wicked,” and the massive tire that anchors the dilapidated junkyard set for “Cats.”

He was ambivalent about musical theater when he bartered the informal contractor role, but Jeff grew to love it after a few years. Due in large part to your infectious passion.

He gives the mastermind—or masterminds, props for trying, though.

“Oh, wow!” Jeff exclaims, deciding to play along. Peyton's face brightens; there’s no way he’s not involved. “Out of respect, let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”

“O-of course, Mr. Skinner,” Peyton sputters, as though he’s shocked Jeff didn’t notice anything amiss or ask any follow-up questions. “That’s why I waited to give it to you. It felt too personal to announce in front of your entire class. Especially after the whole Homecoming thing.”

“Thing” wasn’t what he’d call it, but this kind of dramatic exaggeration was one of the many reasons he loved working with teenagers.

During a pep rally in October, the student body president crowned the two of you the faculty Homecoming King and Queen. Jeff wasn't even aware that was a thing he could win, and neither had you, but you bashfully accepted the titles and accompanying crowns in front of a thousand rowdy high schoolers anyway.

Later that night, you slow-danced to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” under a sky of twinkling stars—clear fairy lights repurposed from the previous year’s "Camelot" canopy—black glitter tulle, and a plywood crescent moon.

The students lost their minds then and were yet to get over it. Obviously.

“I appreciate that,” Jeff says, biting back his amusement.

Peyton salutes him and hoists the sack over his shoulder again. He and Leo say their goodbyes and move on to the next classroom on their route.

The remainder of the school day was agonizingly hectic. So much so that it meddled with his plan to swing by the auditorium where you held classes.

His projector kicked the bucket in the middle of his lecture on the two-way exchanges collectively known as the Columbian Exchange; Jeff couldn’t get it back into commission until his prep period, so he would have to explain how the triangular trade route emerged from colonial mercantilism policies in the new year. His 9th-grade World Geography class refused to participate in the activity he organized to mimic the Arctic landscape and harsh climate, so, somewhat reluctantly, he cut his losses and threw on an episode of Where On Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? And right before his sixth period, some bored senior pulled the fire alarm, forcing the entire school to spend the glacial afternoon lined up in the parking lot.

All that said, it was safe to say Mr. Skinner had never been happier to see his driveway and his dog than he was this evening. The border collie shepherd mix, Chips—affectionately named as a tribute to the trained sentry dog who became the most decorated canine in the Second World War—is waiting on the porch. Joyously, he howls when Jeff gets out of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” he says as he reaches down to scratch between the pup’s ears. Chips jumps up, his muddy paws landing on Jeff’s coat. He begins licking his owner’s cheeks with reckless abandon. “Okay, come on, crazy dog. Let’s get you back inside.”

Immediately after Jeff opens the front door, Chips darts down the hallway. He chuckles, shaking his head as he sheds his coat and tosses his keys into the bowl by the door.

Jeff rescued his dog as he was wrapping up his undergraduate degree at NC State, and the two were as thick as thieves up until a few years ago.

That’s not to say anything happened or there’s bad blood; Chips simply found a new favorite person.

Jeff trails after Chips, following the furry tail and the delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a beer before turning to address his successor to the rescue's heart, standing at the stove stirring a giant pot of soup.

“You won’t believe what happened in my second period today, babe. Every day, I’m surprised by how bold teenagers are. Hell, when I was their age, I was petrified to sharpen a pencil without asking. Their latest scheme wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Seriously, I don’t think you could guess what shenanigans they got up to if you tried.”

He's met with melodic laughter, a sparkly sound that still makes his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe not, but I don’t need to.”

Jeff’s brows knit together, confused. Then his eyes zero in on the slip of paper identical to the one in his back pocket.

If it were possible, his jaw could sweep the tile floor.

“Guess we aren’t as sly as we think,” you smirk, waving a counterfeit Candy Cane Gram of your own in the air like a white flag.

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hockeyboysimagines · 1 month

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So far from the Stars

Chapter 3

Warnings:Language, angst, smut, mentions of bars/alcohol.

Hi all! Hope you enjoy this.

If you haven’t please give a read to @cellythefloshie and I collaboration fic we’ve been working on I’ve loved you three summers -Cool for the summer.

Enjoy!

Sometimes Jeremy wondered just how he found himself in these types of situations.

Was it by design?

Was it punishment?

Was it because his life just sucked?

All three he decided. He’d never been more disgusted than he was right this very minute and he was sure that was being reflected on his face.

The night had been great.

Better than great actually.

Drinks were flowing, the group was having a great time, and Courtney was tucked into his side in a booth at their favorite bar. Though he was still upset about what had happened he was mostly just happy to be hanging out with her again. It was shaping up to be a great night and he had a tiny bit of hope that if she wasn’t too intoxicated by the end of the night, just maybe he could make another move. She’d only had one drink and hadn’t gotten a second. She was sitting closer to him than normal, head resting on his shoulder at one point and he felt like he was on top of the world.

So when he’d left her out of the booth to go to the bathroom he hadn’t expected what was about to happen. Veronica slapped his arm and leaned forward with a wide smile.

“You guys look cozy.” She hummed at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. The others were also looking at him interestedly. That gave him some hope. If they noticed it, then he wasn’t imagining it. He sometimes wondered if maybe he took her being friendly as something else, when really he was just giving himself false hope. But this time others were noticing it too.

He couldn’t help but smile and also leaned over towards her “I have no clue what you’re talking about-“ but didn’t get to finish his sentence before a voice interrupted him.

“Uhm-guys.”

They both turned along with the rest of the group to see Justin frowning. They followed his gaze to find that on her way back from the bathroom she had been intercepted by Brad.

Their eyes all swiveled towards Jeremy as they watched them speak. Courtney looked uncomfortable as she took a step back from him nodding at whatever he was saying and for a minute she was blocked from view until she made her way around him and back to where they were sitting. She looked upset as she approached, a small piece of paper in her hand. Brad was watching as she made her way back, and looked over her shoulder to find them all glaring at him, eyes narrowing when he spotted Jeremy on the end of the table being the only one looking at Courtney.

“What the fuck is he doing here? And what is that?” Justin asked pointing at the paper in her hand.

“He just moved back.” Kasey said, glancing at Veronica who made eyes back, and cleared her throat.

“It’s his- number.” She tossed it on the table “No thanks though.” Even though it had been years, that betrayal still hurt her and it was written all over her face.

“When did he move back? I didn’t know he was back here again did you?” Justin asked Veronica.

“Kasey ran into him the other day, but he- Jeremy? Are you okay?” She asked knocking on the table and then glancing at Courtney.

Jeremy had never been more mad. It was beyond mad. This was rage.

He felt a white hot heat creep up him from his toes to his face, burning up his neck, feeling like he was about to explode. He stared at the paper for a second before his eyes moved slowly up to find her staring at him.

“Hey are you-“

He stood up, knocking over a bottle, causing the others to look at him startled, and cleared his throat “I need some air.”

He made his way out of the bar, taking large steps and burst through the door, the night air hitting his face, cool against his hot skin. Thankfully no one was outside as he let out a loud frustrated “UGH!” Into the night air. He wanted to scream, cry and punch something or someone, Brad preferably, but he didn’t do any of those things because he was in public.

The first two would have to wait till he got home, and the third one he could only hope he’d get the chance at one day.

He couldn’t do this to himself anymore. He just couldn’t. He was at the end of his rope and he’d finally had enough. Even though she’d said she didn’t want his number, he had still once again ruined a time when things with them were going good. Who did he think he was talking to her after what he’d done? He had half a mind to turn right back around and beat the hell out of him for even thinking about her.

He heard the door to the bar open, and footsteps behind him but he didn’t care. Whoever it was would just witness the breakdown he was about to have and it was what it was.

But then he heard his name.

“Jeremy.”

It was Courtney. And because it was her he realized that did care. She was some feet behind him and he quickened his pace. He’d never wanted to get away from her before until now.

“Jeremy!” She called again, closer to him now.

“JEREMY!”

Finally he stopped and whipped around to find her right behind him “What?”

She flinched at his tone and he felt bad. He’d never spoken to her that way and he didn’t want to now, but he was so mad he could barely see straight and it was his own fault.

“Did-did I do something?” She looked confused.

“No you didn’t. It’s something I did. To myself and I should have stopped doing it ages ago.”

“I-what? What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath “ Last weekend you kissed me and I-“

“What?” She frowned, eyes moving around trying to think.

“That-that night we went to the bar. We came back to your house and you kissed me.” He finished quietly, looking at his feet.

“I don’t-“

“Remember yeah I know.” He said, hands in his pockets. He thought that it would feel good to get it off his chest, but if anything it made him feel worse.

“I don’t-Jeremy I-“ her eyes got a little glassy and she reached for his hand, pulling it from his pocket and gripping it “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault. I should-I should have told you how I felt years ago but instead I’ve been too afraid of what might happen if I did. That’s on me. I don’t wanna talk about this I wanna go home.” He made to pull his hand from hers but she didn’t let go. He turned and looked at her annoyed.

“Wait a minute.” She was frowning now “I’m sorry I don’t remember, but you never told me how you felt. That’s not my fault.”

He shook his head “I never said it was-“

“You didn’t have to. If you had told me-“

“What?” He said once again attempting to tug his hand from hers but she held on tighter “Would it have changed anything?”

“I don’t know. I mean maybe-“

“No it wouldn’t have and you know it.”

She raised her eyebrows “No I don’t know it. And how the hell was I supposed to know all this? You had girlfriends, and hookups, and you wanna give me a hard time for not wanting to be with you?” Now she looked angry and he didn’t blame her. He knew he was being dumb, that all of that wasn’t her fault but it didn’t make him any less mad about it. He couldn’t be any more mad at himself than he already was so he would be mad at her.

“Didn’t I make it obvious?”

“No no no. I’m not a mind reader. If you wanted me to know you should have and could have told me, not kept it to yourself just to use it against me later.”

He shook his head “That’s not-“

“Yes it is. That’s exactly what you’re doing and you know it.”

He glanced down at her hand, fingers tightly gripping his and then back up at her with a frown “I don’t wanna fight with you. Please let go of my hand.”

She frowned deeper and shook her head “No.”

“Courtney-“ he said exasperatedly. He just wanted to leave and go be mad in his own house where no one could judge him or tell him he was being stupid.

“I said-No.” She took a step closer to him, tugging his hand to pull him closer until she was eye level with his chin and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” He looked everywhere but at her, knowing that as soon as he did he wouldn’t be mad, and even though he was 100% wrong he didn’t want to admit it.

“Look at me.”

He huffed and stiffened as he felt her tug at his hand again to get his attention and when he didn’t look she reached up suddenly and grabbed him by the chin. He was startled, eyes locking on hers. She stared at him for a second before she leaned forward pausing, eyes still on his.

Fuck it.

He moved the rest of the way, catching her mouth in a very heated kiss, hand coming to tangle in her hair. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. She felt a chill run up her spine that had nothing to do with the balmy weather and a feelings she’d never had settle in the pit of her stomach, as he wrapped one of his hands around the back of her neck. She was gripping his jacket as they stood kissing on the sidewalk for several seconds before they broke apart.

She looked at him for a second, the fabric of his shirt balled up in her fists before she said very quietly “Can we leave?”

He glanced behind her to find that their friends hadn’t come to investigate and nodded, hand still on the back of her neck.

“Come on.”

20 minutes later he was unlocking his front door and allowing her to walk past him to get inside. The minute she stepped over the threshold and the door closed the air in the room changed. He shut the foot behind him and locked it, following her as she began to step forward.

He was so nervous his hands were shaking and any of the confidence he had earlier outside the bar was gone now. He’d watched her walk through his house hundreds of times, but never to his bedroom. It was dark, and he left the light off, watching as she pulled the curtain open the tiniest bit to let in some of the light outside and turned to him.

He leaned against the door frame and watched as she pulled her jacket off, and draped it over the chair by the window, before she shook out her hair. She looked ethereal, half illuminated and motioned for him to come closer.

He made his way slowly across the room, half afraid she might suddenly change her mind, until he was nearly pressed up against her. He reached a hand forward to stroke her cheek, and tangled his fingers in her hair.

She was even more dazzling up close like this, and he got lost in her eyes for a second before he leaned down and pushed his lips sweetly up against hers. It was slower than it had been 20 minutes ago, and though he was nervous, he had gained some confidence now. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he pulled her closer by the waist, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of her sweater. He moved his hands down her waist to the small of her back, fingers moving over her cool skin where her shirt had ridden up and she gave a little shiver, as he pulled it up slowly and she raised her arms above her head. Her hair was tousled and messy around her back and shoulders, a deep blush across her cheeks. He watched as she sucked in a long breath, and pulled him back to her, hands reaching to pull his own shirt off.

He backed her up against his bed, sitting her down gently but she stopped him when he gave her a gentle nudge down. With shaking hands she reached forward and unbuckled his belt and then sprung the button on his jeans so he could step out of them, and then stood to undo her own.

He knelt between her legs and peeled them down, hands sliding down over the skin of her legs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Her entire body felt like a live wire as he pulled them over her feet. He leaned up and kissed her again, as they moved backwards together over the bed, and he situated himself between her legs. His skin felt warm against hers as he knotted a hand in her hair, fingers scratching against her scalp.

Her bra strap slipped off her shoulder and he gripped it with his fingers “Can I take this off?”

She leaned up and he unhooked it, pulling it off and tossing it to the side, before he glanced down between them. Wordlessly she lifted her hips so he could pull her underwear down her legs, and then tugged at the waistband of his boxers.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly from between her legs. He was looking at her like she’d hung the moon in the sky, and she reached up to run a hand through the longest part of his hair, and nodded with a small smile.

“I’m sure.”

He took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss her very slowly as he pushed inside of her. She sucked in a breath with a small gasp, eyes widening, and then sliding closed slowly before they opened and locked on his. His vision flipped sideways and got fuzzy for a second before she gave the skin on his arms a squeeze, bringing him back down to earth.

Her eyes were huge as she stared at him, never looking away as he pulled out of her and pushed back in. Her nails scraped against his skin as his head fell forward into the crook of her neck, forehead resting against her collarbone. A euphoria like she’d never experienced settled over her, as he ran a hand down her side, fingers gripping the skin of her hip. He picked his head up , lips moving across her neck and jaw until he found her mouth in the dark.

She was dizzy as he kissed her till she couldn’t breathe but she never wanted him to stop. His skin felt feverish under her fingers as she grazed them up his spine, a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his back as he moved above her. He was panting in her ear, forearm braced on the bed by her head.

“Courtney.” He breathed, but she silenced him by kissing him, a heat settling in her stomach that began to spread. She broke away from him for a second, breath coming out ragged as he began to push faster, hand resting at the base of her throat. She gripped his skin, nails sliding over the sweat as her legs started to shake and she began to orgasm.

It was beautiful to fall over the edge with him. He kissed her right through it, wrapping her up in his arms. She felt like she was levitating as his movement slowed and his weight pressed down on top of her. Her heart was beating loud, but slow, and mixed in with his as they laid there wrapped up in each other.

After a moment of silence when the breathing had slowed he picked up his head to look at her. He was smiling so sweetly at her she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you-okay?” He asked finally.

“I’m good. Are you?”

He nodded and cleared his throat, pulling out and laying next to her. He pulled the blanket up so she could cover her chest with with and settled in on his side next to her, eyes peering into her own.

“What?” She asked.

She looked so beautiful, messy hair, smudged liner, sheet pulled up in his bed, a place he never thought he’d see her. His emotions were running high and he could barely speak in full sentences but he managed a soft “Your beautiful.”

She smiled softly and reached forward to push a strand of hair off his forehead, before she scorched forward and pressed a very chaste kiss to his lips.

“Are you going to stay?”

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded and grinned, patting the bed and chuckling a little as she wriggled down under the blankets next to him. His eyes slid closed and his body got heavy but he waited until her own eyes closed. He wanted to touch her, hold her, pull her close but he laid there just watching her, wondering if this was a dream until his eyes got too heavy to keep open.

Courtney wasn’t sleeping.

She waited until she heard his breath even out and then opened her eyes to find him sleeping, lips slightly parted, one arms under his head and the other resting across his side.

She sat up and looked down at him, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the side of his face. He didn’t stir, and she eased off the bed, pulling her clothing on. She gave him one last look before she made her way quietly through the house and out the door.

The alcohol had worn off long ago, and the night air covered her up more than she already was. Her body felt like rubber as she slipped into her car and started it, backing out and pulling on to the street quickly so she could be gone in case he woke up.

Roads were empty, the occasional car passing her as she reached her house. Her legs felt heavy and she sat in her idling car for a moment before she slowly got out and made her way inside. Her house was quiet, just the creaking of the floor as she walked to her bedroom, leaving the lights off.

She sat on the end of her bed staring at the wall. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of the clock from her living room, and the owl that lived in the tree outside her window.

She felt bad leaving like that, and she knew when he woke up and she was gone he’d be upset. But she couldn’t stay there. She felt like she was suffocating and couldn’t believe what she had done. She absently pulled at the hole in the knee of her jeans and sniffled, eyes moving across the room to the picture she had of them.

She loved Jeremy with all her heart. She had always taken him and his friendship with her for granted, and now that she knew he’d felt this way about her for all those years she felt terrible. He had watched her with Brad and kept quiet because he wanted to make her happy. He’d do anything to make her happy. A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away.

Not only was she going to lose him but over something so stupid. He was the best person she knew, and she was hurting him every single day and even though she didn’t know it, her relationship with him felt tainted. Like she’d ruined it without even trying, because she didn’t deserve him. He was so kind, so sweet and too pure for someone like her who was so blinded by dating other guys, and a stupid high school boyfriend who never gave a shit about her that she couldn’t see Jeremy waiting there, heart in hand all these years.

That fact was staring her right in the face. She tipped over sideways and another tear ran down her nose. Her heart hurt, and her lungs felt like they were deflating as she started to cry. She was dizzy, and nauseated thinking of the end of Jeremy in her life.She had ruined this, just like everything else.

Across town,Jeremy turned over and made to wrap his arm around Courtney. Last night had been amazing, and his heart felt so full it could burst, but he paused when he felt the bed was empty and cold. He lifted his head and looked around.

It was early, the sun wasn’t quite rising yet, but it was light enough that he could see she wasn’t in the room. He threw the blanket off and stood. He didn’t want to panic. Maybe she was in the bathroom, getting water, in the living room.

“Courtney?” He called out as he walked through his house. When she didn’t answer, he looked out the front window to find her car was gone.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, like the puncture of an arrow that had been shot straight through his heart, and he let out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Courtney was gone.

Everything he had been afraid of had finally come true because he’d said his feelings out loud. Things why he’d kept it to himself all these years. Now she was gone, out of his house and his life maybe forever. He’d never been in more pain. He thought about calling, getting in his car and driving to her place but he couldn’t move. His feet may as well have been glued to the floor.

He braced a hand on the doorframe and squeezed his eyes shut.

What had he done?

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honeyeyesworld · 3 months

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Snow day|| Jack Quinn

(None of the pictures are mine!!! Credits to the original owners 🫶)

Yourusername

Liked by: kennedyclairewalsh, tommer97 and more

Yourusername: And the snow day begins ❄️

(Ofc featuring my boyfriends boyfriends 🙄)

Tagged: jackquinn19

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dlevi_33: Still can’t believe you pushed Owen 🤣

↪️ Yourusername: he deserved it 🤝

User1: the snowmen 😂

jackquinn19: I love you snow much 💙☃️

↪️ owenpower_: 🤢

User4: the last slide Jack carried her 😭

↪️ user3: right 😭

User5: I just want to know what’s going on in the third slide 😭😭

jackquinn19: want to come over and make more snow angels…in bed 😏

↪️Yourusername: JACK (I’m on my way) 🫣

↪️ owenpower_: MY EYES

↪️: jj.peterka: 🤢🤢🤢

alextuch89: had a great time babysitting you guys!

dylan.cozens: let’s do it again next week 🤝

↪️ Yourusername: I hope the snow reminded you of home 🎅🎄🦌

↪️ dylan.cozens: I am NOT from the North Pole 😐

jackquinn19

Liked by peytonkrebs, rasmusdahlinn, and more

jackquinn19: when life gives you snow make snow angels 😏

Tagged: Yourusername

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jj.peterka: I can’t look at you the same 🤢

User9: this is so cute 😭

Yourusername: Are you a snowball?? Because I bet you’ll melt in my hands…or mouth 🤭

↪️ dylan.cozens: please stop 🛑

↪️ jackquinn19: 😏😏

User10: ❤️

buffalosabers: ❄️☃️

#buffalo sabres #jack quinn #jj peterka #devon levi #hockey imagine #dylan cozens #jack quinn imagine #hockey x reader #jack quinn x reader #jeff skinner #jack quinn one shot #hockey x you #buffalo sabers fic #Buffalo sabers imagine #peyton krebs #owen power #jack quinn blurb

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velvetpucks · 4 months

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Slapshots and Contracts Blurb:

———

On a crisp winter day, Sidney Crosby stood proudly at the edge of the ice rink, his skates gliding effortlessly. Beside him, two eager faces, mirrors of Sidney's own features, stared at the ice with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

"Alright, you two, first lesson: balance," Sidney announced, crouching down to their level. His children, adorned in tiny Penguins jerseys, listened intently.

As they tentatively stepped onto the ice, Sidney guided them, his hands gently supporting their wobbly movements. Laughter echoed across the rink as they discovered the joy of sliding on the frozen surface.

Izzy, bundled up with their newborn in her arms, watched from the sidelines with a contented smile. The newest addition to their family cooed, seemingly captivated by the sight of the icy playground.

Sidney, still on skates, called out, "Now, let's talk sticks and pucks!"

He handed each child a miniature hockey stick, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. With a puck at their feet, Sidney demonstrated the basics, his children following suit with adorable determination.

Izzy, holding their newborn close, couldn't help but marvel at the picturesque scene – her husband imparting the love of the game to their little ones. It was a snapshot of family bliss, the rink becoming a canvas for memories that would last a lifetime.

As Sidney continued the lesson, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the winter landscape. The Crosby family, united by the magic of hockey, reveled in the joy of shared moments, building a legacy of love and passion on the icy canvas of their own making.

———

#sidney crosby x you #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby #hockey x you #hockey x reader #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl #pittsburgh penguins

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elliezato · 3 months

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✮⋆˙Hockey Player Ellie⋆˙⟡

HockeyPlayer!Ellie x Reader headcannons<3

Summery: Ellie is your competitive girlfriend who loves to see you at her hockey games!

SFW! Just cute hcs and some fluff

Also I honestly don’t know much about hockey… but could you IMAGINE Ellie on the rink!!! She’d be so hot in those uniforms. I need more hockey Ellie content.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie looks for you in the crowd before her games. She loves seeing you cheer for her. Every time her or her teammates score a goal she looks up at you and smiles to make sure you saw.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie brags about you to all her teammates. She got you a jersey to wear to her games. The back of the jersey says “Williams” so everyone knows you’re her girl.

- You obviously added cute patches that remind you of Ellie on the jersey and you make sure to never miss a game.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie always goes to you first after all of her games. Before going to the locker room with everyone else she steps off the ice and grabs your waist, placing soft kisses on the corner of your lips.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie loves when you skate with her. She bought you a pair of skates so she could teach you but you weren’t very good. She’ll take you on skating dates but has to hold your hand most of the time.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie is always competitive when it comes to sports. You can hear her from the crowd yelling at her teammates when they make a mistake. Her team loves her but can’t stand how competitive she gets. Same goes for when you watch professional hockey at home. She’s standing in front of the tv yelling like a dad watching football.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie’s favorite season is winter because of all the public rinks. She takes you christmas skating every year just to show off in front of all the kids who clearly don’t know what they’re doing.

- She always gets annoyed when she sees the figure skaters spinning in the public rinks. She claims they’re “showing off” even though she’s literally there to do the same.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie loves when you get into the games. You stand up and cheer for her from he crowd making sure you’re loud enough for her to hear. Her teammates tease her about how you still don’t know much about the game but still cheer.

- She tries to explain to you the rules of hockey and you just sit and nod, acting like you understand. Eventually you get the hang of it after watching some many of her games.

✰HockeyPlayer!Ellie laughs to herself from the rink when she sees you stand up in concern every she gets hit for falls. She has bruises on her legs and arms from getting manhandled by the other players. After her games you always give her massages to loosen her muscles.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams headcanons #headcanons #the last of us #tlou #ellie tlou #hockey #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #lesbian #wlw #sapphic

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hischierhoney · 7 days

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Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

#jack hughes x reader #jack Hughes x you #Jack Hughes fic #jack Hughes fanfic #Jack Hughes fluff #Jack Hughes fanfiction #jack Hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #honey writes #jh86

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trevuorzegras · 2 months

Text

━╋ MY RIGHT TO BE HELLISH, part three

jealous by nick jonas

summary: In which the rumors of Quinn’s little brother Jack, and y/n y/l/n make him realize he’s jealous. (part 3/4)

pairings: quinn hughes x actress!reader

platonic!jack hughes x reader. social media au

faceclaim: dove cameron

prev part

next part

newestupdates

newestupdates: Actress Y/n Y/l/n and NHL star Jack Hughes seen walking together in New Jersey. New couple alert? Thoughts? #baewatch #y/ny/l/n

tagged: yourusername, jackhughes

liked by _quinnhughes, njdevils, and others

yourusername: we are strictly friends, please do not stretch my interaction with a FRIEND to be something it is not.

↳ jackhughes: completely agree.

user1: this is a little weird.. yeah?

↳ user2: they’re celebrities get over it 💀

↳ user1: doesn’t mean people should assume who they are and aren’t dating. it’s weird to invade their personal lives like that.. user2

jackhughes: we are strictly platonic, this post is very uncomfortable for the both of us. we kindly ask to stay out of our personal lives.

liked by yourusername

user3: they’d be cute though

↳ _quinnhughes: no

*this comment has been deleted.*

user4: quinn is NOT slick 😭😭

user5: i feel so bad for them, this is so invasive.

lhughes_05: now this is weird

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, and others

_quinnhughes: they aren’t together

↳ user6: just say you want that to be you 😭

↳ _quinnhughes: i want that to be me

*this comment has been deleted.*

user7: HE BEING A LITTLE TOO RISKY RN 😭😭

trevorzegras: yeah let’s not

↳ user8: trevor y/n + quinn shipper confirmed??

↳ trevorzegras: 😉 user8

user9: TREVOR SHIPS THEM 😭😭

user10: this is so disrespectful, take the post down atp. they can’t even live their lives without you guys butting into it.

yourusername

yourusername: me & jack are laughing AT you guys btw!! two people can be friends without dating. for all my jack & quinn girlies, here’s a snap i got from jack a few days ago. enjoy 🌤️

tagged: jackhughes, _quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, canucks, and others

user11: THE WAY SHE USED THE PAPARAZZI PHOTO FROM THE GOSSIP PAGE LMFAOOA

user12: she’s so unserious i love her 😭😭

jackhughes: FRIENDS!! forever

↳ yourusername: JACK LMFAOA YOU SOUND LIKE A MIDDLE SCHOOL GIRL

↳ jackhughes: okay i was trying to be nice 😒

user13: wait cause quinn been looking extra FINE lately..

liked by yourusername

↳ user14: THE WAY SHE LIKED IT LMFAOO

user15: her and quinn would be cute.. STOP

liked by lhughes_06

↳ user16: wait cause you’re onto something

↳ user17: luke liked this comment?? 🤔

lhughes_06: no pic credits for the second to last picture?

↳ yourusername: oh so you’re done lurking in my comments now, lukey??

↳ lhughes_06: no idea what you’re talking about, have you taken your crazy pill? yourusername

↳ yourusername: OH OKAY. lhughes_06

user18: why is no one talking about how good y/n looks??? let’s focus on her for a moment 🫣

liked by _quinnhughes

↳ user19: atta boy quinn with the slick comment like

user20: oh quinn is LURKING 😭

user21: what’s with the hughes lurking & liking in these comments..

user22: SHES SO UNBOTHERED LMFAO

next part

one more part, then the quinn series is complete! don’t be afraid to request using my ask box!

find my navigation, here!

check out my nhl masterlist, here!

taglist | @literatureluster @bunbunbl0gs @alwaysclassyeagle

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lecsainz · 4 months

Note

part 2 for ethan please 🙏

WRONG ROOM. PART TWO

˒ ⌕ masterlist

parings: ethan edwards x umich student!reader

type: fluff

PART ONE

The morning sun cast a gentle glow over the snow-covered campus as Ethan and Y/N met for breakfast at a cozy diner. Conversation flowed effortlessly between them, laughter mingling with the clatter of cutlery and the hum of morning chatter.

As they finished their meal, Ethan hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with a sudden idea. Fidgeting with his coffee cup, he looked up at Y/N, a curious glint in his eyes.

"I need to test out a theory," Ethan blurted out, his words surprising even himself.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. "Okay?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "I require your help."

"How so?" Y/N asked, intrigued by his sudden seriousness.

"You need to kiss me," Ethan stated, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess himself.

Y/N blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Ethan flushed, regretting his impulsive request. "Sorry, it's stupid. Forget I said anything."

But Y/N's expression softened, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Wait, are you suggesting we need a scientific experiment to prove something?"

Ethan nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and hope. "Yeah, something like that."

She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Alright, let's entertain this theory of yours. But just so we're clear, this is purely for science, right?"

Ethan couldn't contain his smile. "Absolutely, for science."

Leaning in, Y/N cupped his cheek, her lips meeting his in a gentle yet purposeful kiss. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading away around them.

When they finally pulled back, a stunned yet exhilarated expression adorned Ethan's face. "So, uh, any conclusions from our experiment?"

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I'd say that theory definitely needs further testing."

Ethan laughed, relief flooding through him. "I think you might be right about that."

#ethan edwards x student reader #ethan edwards x you #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards fluff #ethan edwards oneshot #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards #umich x reader #umich blurbs #umich imagine #umich fic #🏒. — hockey works ⋆∴#hockey x you #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #umich hockey #hockey fic

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jackhues · 3 months

Text

in love love - alex lyon

notes: this is part of @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange, and written for the amazing @2manytabsopen !! this is my first time writing for alex and honestly first time writing in a while, but i had lots of fun with this and i really hope you like it <33

summary: 3 times the world realized alex was in love with you + the 1 time you realized it

word count: 2.7k

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

gif not mine

you and alex had known each other your whole lives. as long as you could remember, it was you and him. sure, you both had friends that came and went, but at the end of it all, it was the two of you who made it through.

you made it through your elementary years, all the way to college, and now even beyond. despite graduating early, alex was still in contact with many of the friends you both made in university. it was a good thing too, because you could just go together to all the events you were invited to.

“i don’t know what i was thinking, making so many friends,” you muttered to yourself, nursing your drink.

it was late at night, and you were no longer the same person you’d been at college. instead of pulling all-nighters and partying with the crowd, you wanted to be in bed once it was dark.

“are you tired?” alex turned to face you. “we can go home if you want.”

“that’s okay,” you smiled tiredly at the tall boy. “it’s not like we get to meet up with them often. it’s been a long time since we were all out. we can stay.”

“you sure, love?” he asked, eyebrows knit in concern. “you look ready to drop.”

“i’m fine,” you promised. at his unconvinced look, you continued, “really, i’m okay. i think i just need another drink.”

“i’ll get you one,” he offered immediately, heading up to the counter to get your drink.

unbeknownst to you, some of your college friends were giggling to each other, wondering if the two of you were finally together.

“i mean, they have to be, right?” one of them whispered. “they’ve both got heart eyes for each other.”

“alex isn’t even trying to hide it,” another one laughed a little. “good for them, i guess. i always knew he liked her.”

you smiled once alex returned with your favourite drink, handing it to you.

“a special drink, for a special lady,” he grinned.

“thank you,” you took it from him, taking a sip.

indeed, all you needed was a little something in your system to get you going. you took alex’s hand, leading him to the dance floor where you ended up spending most of the night.

after some time, alex broke away from you, drifting to the edge of the dance floor and allowing himself a moment to admire you.

“so? you two finally together, huh?” one of alex’s old teammate’s wiggled his brows, sliding up next to the goalie.

“what? me and y/n? no — no, we’re just friends,” alex insisted.

“oh, really?” he asked, looking between the two of you. “i guess i haven’t seen you guys in so long, i forgot how close you were.”

alex nodded, despite the lump in his throat, before excusing himself to get some air.

your friends exchanged glances at that interaction — at alex running away, and at you now dancing with another friend, clueless to it all.

“well shit,” one of them muttered. “he’s in love with her, and he knows it.”

“but does she?”

ii.

“here, let me get that for you.”

“thank you,” you smiled as alex took the plates from your hands, placing them in the sink.

you were at a family friends house, inviting alex along to celebrate with them. since most of your family lived further away, you often celebrated the holidays and other events with them. alex was someone you’d known your entire life, and by extension, your family and family friends knew about him too.

after years of trying to convince you to bring him along to one of these gatherings, you finally caved in. it wasn’t that you were embarrassed of alex. if anything, you were a little embarrassed of your family friends.

not in a bad way. they were just loud and talkative and much more rowdy than alex’s family. you were worried how well he’d fit in if he came along.

so far, he had proved you wrong, getting along with absolutely everyone there. the younger kids kept trying to steal him to play games, the older aunts and uncles doted on him — everyone loved him.

you took the broom out, getting ready to sweep around the house a little. everyone was busy cleaning up after themselves or gossipping with each other. might as well make yourself useful.

“here, let me do that,” alex appeared next to you, reaching for the broom.

“it’s alright, i got it,” you assured him. “besides, you’re the guest. go sit and talk with the older people. i’ve got this.”

“y/n,” he said your name in a strict tone. “give me the broom, i’ll sweep up around here. you’ve been on your feet all day, take a seat and let me do this.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, realizing he wasn’t going to budge. “okay, go grab the dustpan. i’ll sweep, you collect it, okay?”

alex sighed, “all right, fine. but you’re sitting down and hanging out with everyone after this. no more work for you.”

“alex, that’s not how it works—”

“if someone needs you to do a chore, i’ll step in,” he said in a strict tone. he softened his voice, “you did a lot today, okay? i can do a little bit of work around here too. i’m not entirely useless, you know?”

you laughed a little, “i can think of multiple instances where you were entirely useless.”

“right now,” alex amended. “i know how to sweep and do the dishes and stuff. i couldn’t help you out in the morning, but i can now. so let me, please.”

“okay, okay,” you raised your hands in surrender. “i’ll sweep and then take a seat. happy?”

“very,” he grinned, happy that he’d finally won this argument.

behind you, one of your cousins shared a look with their sibling, wondering if anyone else just saw what happened.

“that’s so weird,” one of them whispered.

“i wonder how long it’ll take for them to get married,” another thought aloud.

“oh, he’s in love love,” another one muttered.

they looked at you, sweeping the floor with a little smile on your face, and behind you, alex watching you with the same smile on his face. it was so painfully obvious, just by the way he watched you.

“i hope she realizes it soon.”

iii.

“come on, come on, come on,” you grabbed alex’s hand, pulling him along.

there was a new cafe that opened down the street, and based on the reviews, it had some really nice hot chocolate. alex was the one who’d found their page on instagram, forwarding the message to you.

so of course, you dragged him along for your first visit.

the interior of the cafe was chic, with a checkerboard floor and a cozy interior. you immediately claimed one of the couches at the store, scanning the qr code for the menu.

before you even opened it up, alex spoke, “you’re getting a hot chocolate?”

“i didn’t even look at the menu yet,” you rolled your eyes.

“yeah, but it’s why you came here, right?” he asked. “to try their french hot chocolate?”

you opened your mouth to argue, but simply sighed. “yeah, that’s why i came here.”

“that’s what i thought,” a satisfied smirk appeared on alex’s face. “so, one french hot chocolate for you, and one cinnamon hot chocolate for me.”

you gave him a thumbs up in approval, letting him place the order at the counter while you saved your seats. you pulled out your phone, scrolling a little as you waited for alex to return.

near your seat, an older woman smiled to herself, waving to her own husband at the counter giving their order. she remembered their earlier days together, when her husband first learned her order and immediately went to the counter. it might be a really small thing to someone else, but she’d associated that act with his love for her. she wondered if one day you’d do the same thing with alex.

“i’m back,” alex announced his return as he took a seat next to you.

“yes, i can see that,” you replied.

he flicked your forehead, “congrats, you have eyes.”

“you’re such a child,” you laughed.

“you’re just jealous because you’ll be old and wrinkly while i stay young and hot.”

the two of you kept it together for three seconds, before bursting out into laughter.

your waitress smiled to herself, placing your drinks on the table in front of you. the cafe was new and it didn’t get many customers yet. seeing you two in here laughing loudly warmed her heart.

she wished she’d get to experience that kind of love one day, with someone who looked at her the way alex looked at you. as if he’d seen the entire world and decided you were his favourite thing in it.

“enjoy your drinks,” she smiled at you two, heading back.

“thank you,” you smiled at her, reaching for your hot chocolate.

you smiled at the sight of how delicious the hot chocolate looked, reaching towards it as if it were gold. to you, it might’ve been.

the second you took that first sip, you sighed in content, melting back into the couch and closing your eyes.

“so, it’s delicious?” alex asked, taking a sip of his own. he blinked in surprise, “okay, wow. this is pretty good. you know, y/n, i think you were onto something when you fell into that hot chocolate obsession.”

“i’m always right,” you grinned, turning your head to look at him.

alex caught his breath at the sight of you. after all these years, and you still managed to make him speechless with just a look.

“always,” he merely agreed.

you smiled triumphantly, going back to your drink. around you, the people whispered — they always whispered the same thing, but you never heard it.

“they’re so cute,” one person would whisper.

“oh, he’s so in love with her,” another would say.

“too bad she doesn’t even know it,” one would sigh.

“she knows it, she just doesn’t realize it,” another would respond. “she doesn’t even realize how in love she is with him.”

and alex would hear it all, and he’d keep his mouth shut. because whether you knew or whether you didn’t wasn’t the question.

the question was whether you’d do anything once you did realize.

iv.

you looked at your caller i.d., trying not to cry at the sight of alex’s face.

even though you saw him a day ago, the sight of him was so comforting to you. especially after the shit day that you were having at work.

“hello,” you answered, wanting nothing more than to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“hey — wait, what’s wrong?” he asked. you could imagine the furrow in his brow, the exact face he was making as he continued. “are you crying? y/n, are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you promised, taking a deep breath. “it’s just — it’s been a long day alex. i’m happy you called, i needed to hear your voice.”

“anytime,” alex responded immediately. “i’m always here for you, you know?”

“i know,” you smiled to yourself, because he was. “what’s up with you though? why’d you call?”

“i was just calling because i was bored,” he responded a little sheepishly. “i wanted to bother you a bit.”

“instead you’re comforting me,” you laughed a little.

“it’s an honour to do so,” he responded, followed by a small thwack sound. you laughed, imagining him pounding his chest to play the part, even though you couldn’t even see him.

the two of you continued talking for a bit, until you finally ended the call. you took a deep breath, looking at the time on your phone. two more hours, and then you were free.

you locked the door behind you, placing your bag and keys down.

you were finally home, and ready to put this long day behind you. except now that you were inside, you could hear some noise from somewhere in your house. music was playing softly and a familiar voice was singing along. the smell of something baking made its way to you — banana bread, you thought happily. after a long day, you needed something like that to cheer you up.

you followed the source of the noise, stopping at the sight of alex in the kitchen making banana bread and singing along to the song. you watched him for a minute, smiling to yourself as he spun around and put on a little show.

when the song ended, you clapped, laughing as alex jumped at the sudden noise.

“bravo, that was beautiful!” you cheered. “encore, encore, encore!”

“ah, as much as ii would love to do so for my wonderful fans, the banana bread i am baking for a very wonderful woman will burn if i don’t take it out now,” he spoke in a posh accent before reaching into the oven, pulling the tray out and setting it to cool.

you looked around at the kitchen, noticing for the first time how spotless it was. you’d left some dishes this morning because you were in a rush, and you were pretty sure you made a mess last night while cooking dinner. you were normally pretty clean, but you were just in a lazy mood these past few days.

“did you clean the kitchen?” you asked alex.

he looked up at you, shrugging to himself, “yeah. when you said you had a bad day, i wanted to make you feel a little bit better. so i came over, cleaned a bit, and cooked.”

“thank you,” you whispered, your heart heavy with too many unspoken emotions.

“you’d do the same for me,” alex shrugged.

it was true. you had done and would continue to do the same thing for him. people often thought you two were just friends, but you were so much more than that. you were everything for the other. alex was the one you’d run to when you got good news or bad news. you were the one alex would find for comfort or to share his joy.

you never questioned it, but you finally realized that somewhere along the way, with the jokes and the laughter and the unbreakable friendship, love had also blossomed.

“y/n?” alex called your name. “are you okay?”

you blinked up at him, realizing that you’d basically zoned out in the middle of the kitchen. lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t know how to reply.

and so you blurted out, “are you in love with me?”

alex froze, staring at you for long enough that you began to wonder if you wildly miscalculated. maybe those lingering gazes and longer than necessary hugs were something you imagined. maybe you two were just friends in his eyes.

“and if i was?” he asked, he met your eyes, not a hint of hesitation in them. “if i was in love with you for as long as i could remember, longer than i even knew what the word meant? that i’ve been waiting for you to notice for years now? what would you say?”

you looked at him, trying to tell if he was joking. it didn’t look like he was.

“i’d say why didn’t you tell me years ago?” you responded honestly. “that way, we’d already be past then. and then… and then i’d tell you to kiss me already because i’ve been in love with you for a long time too.”

alex stared at you, trying to figure out if you’d actually just said that. you hear practically the gears turning in his head, you could imagine the questions he was asking himself.

“it’s not a dream,” you smiled, answering his biggest one.

“oh thank god,” he muttered to himself, reaching you in two long strides.

you gasped as his hands grabbed your waist, your own arms reaching up to grab his shirt. without a moment of hesitation, alex leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss just as sweet as the confession.

oh, he’s in love, you thought to yourself with a little smile.

it’s okay, because so were you.

#naqia writes!#alex lyon #alex lyon x reader #alex lyon imagine #alex lyon imagines #alex lyon blurb #alex lyon fic #detroit red wings #detroit red wings fic #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #hockey x reader #hockey x you #hockey fic

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hon3y-y · 5 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only lost by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

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