#hockeynetwork

[wyattjohnston]

hockey fic exchange feedback

alright kiddos, i've created an anonymous form to get feedback on the exchange

still a few fics to be posted, but if i do this before i post the masterlist i can link to it in said masterlist lol

if you did participate i'd like to hear if you would make any changes

if you are a writer and did not participate, i'd like to know if there was a reason. it can be anything from dissatisfaction with a previous match, or just that the timing of the exchange isn't ideal, maybe you're too nervous

i want to hear it all as long as you aren't just coming along to swear at me and tell me i'm awful. which i shouldn't have to say but anonymous forms are scary.

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #current exchange hasn’t even finished #when do i get to start the next one 👀 #i really did once try to like come up with a rolling series of exchanges #push back the winter one to start beginning of November #have a smaller exchange/something for valentines day #the fandom’s not big enough or active enough anymore but it might have worked in the past #would have to bring back hockeynetwork lmao

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

strings come attached

summary: Nolan might be your neighbor, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. 

warnings: mentions of sex, a little steam? nothing graphic by any means

word count: 3.4k

note from the writer: this is my fic for the @hockeynetwork​ winter fic exchange! I had @prettyboybarzal​ and I hope you like it! 

You were convinced your neighbor hated you.

He never met your gaze when you passed him in the hallway, never said anything more than a mumbled greeting whenever you talked first, never kept up the small talk you tried so hard to make while riding the elevator together.

Nolan Patrick was convinced he loved you.

Well, not exactly. He definitely had a massive crush on you, his cute neighbor that smiled at him no matter what time of day he passed by. He only knew snippets of your life—what time you usually got home from work, the way you frequented the coffee shop down the street—but he found himself wanting to know more. He found himself wanting you.

The first time you got a taste of what Nolan’s life was like outside your apartment building, you were three drinks in at a bar to try and cheer up your friend Jess from her recent breakup. You had been focused on trying to find her someone to go home with for the night, a decent enough rebound, when your attention was dragged to a group of rowdy guys all around a booth in the corner.

“They’re cute.” Hallie announced, grinning devilishly over your shoulder. Out of interest, you turned around, following your friend’s gaze to find a group of guys that all somehow looked vaguely familiar. Then, one of the guys returned to the table with more drinks and you recognized him immediately.

“That’s my neighbor, Nolan.” You told your friends, turning back to face them in order to not get caught staring. A round of gasps and ‘shut up’s passed over the table, and you nodded as you took a sip of your drink.

“The brooding hot one?” Maddie asked excitedly, causing you to choke on your drink. The rest of the table broke out in cheers, taking your reaction as a confirmation. Part of you was worried they’d garner his attention, but you rationalize that if he didn’t acknowledge you in your apartment building then he wouldn’t even recognize you in a crowded bar. “Go talk to him!”

“Aren’t we here to get Jess laid? Why are we focusing on me?” You defended yourself, trying to shift attention to the primary goal of the evening. Jess shook her head at you, a grin on her face that told you she wasn’t going to let you get out of it.

“We can multitask.” She teased, and you groaned at their insistence. It wasn’t that you were against the idea of hooking up with someone, you just wished your friends were pushing you towards someone that didn’t live across the hall from you and avoided any and all conversation with you. You were regretting even telling them about Nolan, since all they could seem to focus on now was the fact how one wine night you had gushed about how hot he was.

“C’mon, let’s go dancing.” You sighed, pushing yourself out of the booth with a grin as your friends easily went along with your change of topic. You weren’t fooled, though, you knew they were all silently scheming ways to get you to go home—or across the hall—with Nolan.

Nolan was trying to think of ways to get you to go home with him.

You looked criminally good in the outfit you had picked for a night out, and from the moment he had spotted you with your friends he knew he wanted you. He didn’t care that he had barely said twenty words to you, you were plaguing his thoughts despite him sitting at a booth full of his teammates.

He found his opening when you left your booth to head to the dance floor, a stunning smile on your face as you laughed with your friends. He could have sworn he heard you over the crowd, though it was probably too loud, he couldn’t help the way his focus was solely on you.

He waited, watching for the perfect moment to get up and he found it only two songs later. He wasted no time in ditching his teammates in the middle of Travis’ story—one that he had heard a dozen times already—to cross the room to where you were moving your hips to the beat of the music.

You had felt Nolan’s gaze on you the entire time you were dancing, but even if you hadn’t, Hallie had pointed it out no less than three times since you hit the dance floor. You shrugged her off, doing your best to avoid looking in Nolan’s direction as best you could to try and convince your friends that absolutely nothing was going to happen with him.

You spoke too soon, it seemed, because suddenly Maddie was sending you a smirk before disappearing with Hallie and Jess into the crowd. You didn’t even have time to question their sudden departure when a hand settled on your waist from behind, standing close but not pressed against you, and without looking you knew exactly who it was.

“Can I?” His deep voice mumbled in your ear, him having bent down so that his lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke. You nodded, and with your confirmation that his touch was okay—welcomed, even—you finally felt the press of him behind you, both hands settling on your waist to tug you gently back into him.

This was far from the Nolan you knew from your apartment building, but you weren’t going to object to his attention and quickly resumed your previous movements of swaying your hips to the music, only now you were grinding back against him. He was appreciative of the action, if the quiet, low groan he let out and the way his grip tightened slightly was any indication.

You were there for Jess, but maybe she had a point about multitasking.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve started the conversation.” You teased, feeling bold by him making the first move. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about him between your sheets before, but you had been under the impression that he didn’t want to talk to you. Now, though, you knew his jeans were feeling a little tighter than usual and you’d be able to use that to your advantage.

“Okay, I think I’ve earned that one.” He chuckled lowly, his chest rumbling against you from behind. It was a welcomed feeling, one that had you starting to feel flushed all over. “Couldn’t help myself tonight, though.”

“And why is that?” You teased, playing coy to see where that got you. It got you exactly what you wanted, apparently, because he used his strength to twist you around so your front was pressed to his and you could feel exactly why he couldn’t help himself. He was half hard already, and with that knowledge a devilish smirk found its way onto your face.

“You know exactly why.” That was your tipping point, his words sending a warmth through you that you welcomed. You knew you needed to get out of the bar, everything you wanted to do to him requiring locked doors and thick walls.

Maybe Nolan did hate you, but something about the way he looked as if he wanted to devour you made you question that conclusion. The air felt electric around you, and you couldn’t find it in you to care that your friends were very obviously watching you from the bar to see you interact with Nolan.

“I’d ask if you want to go back to your place or mine, but they’re kind of the same place.” You said boldly, throwing caution to the wind and reaching up to press your palms against his chest as his hands gripped your waist even tighter. You let out a shuddering breath as Nolan ducked his head down to whisper in your ear, lips brushing against your skin ever so slightly once more.

“We can decide in the car.”

And with that, he slipped his hand into yours and began pulling you in the direction of the bar’s exit, barely giving you the chance to process what had just happened. You knew it was probably a bad idea, to go home with your neighbor for a night of sex that would surely lead to months of awkward encounters in the hallway. But the moment he set his hand high on your thigh in the back of the Uber, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Luckily, the ride was short and filled with the thick anticipation of what was going to happen behind closed doors. You had thought that the closed doors meant the ones in either of your apartments, but the second you were alone in the elevator he had you pressed against the wall. His grip was tight on your waist as he ducked his head down, nose nudging against yours for a moment as he waited to see how you would react, giving you a moment to back out if you felt like it.

You made the first move, tilting your head up just slightly to connect your lips in a heated kiss as he somehow got closer to you, crowding you into the back of the elevator and leaving no space between the two of you. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you readily gave him the access he was in search of.

You were interrupted by the elevator doors opening with a ding, the sound dragging a low groan of distaste from Nolan’s lips as he pulled apart reluctantly. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together at the sound, searching for relief before Nolan’s arm was around your waist and he pulled you down the hall.

He made the executive decision to use his apartment, digging his keys out of his pocket and shoving them into the lock in record time. You glanced over at your own door across the hall, reminding yourself once more what you were getting yourself into—whether this would be a one night stand or if it would become a regular thing—you were hooking up with your neighbor.

But then he was pulling you into his apartment and his lips were attached to your neck, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt and suddenly your mind was completely made up.

At least the walk of shame home would be a short one.

And apparently, the walk back was even quicker.

Your one night stand with Nolan turned into a regular thing, finding time more often than not to end up in the other’s bed. You chalked it up to convenience, nothing better than a booty call that lived ten steps away, but there were moments when it felt like more than that. Sometimes, when Nolan would text you late at night to see if you were awake, it wouldn’t be sex that he was after. Sometimes, it would be a movie and some snacks after a particularly long roadie.

Sometimes, you didn’t know which you preferred more.

But you were still just hooking up, a no strings attached relationship turning into a friends with benefits situation the more you got to know him. Still, there were boundaries you had yet to cross—like mixing friend groups.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, and neither did Nolan, but coincidences happened and just as you were leaving your apartment to pick up some dinner he was getting off the elevator with some of teammates, a box of pizza and a case of beers in their possession.

“Guys night?” You made small talk as you locked up your apartment. They all quieted down as they spotted you, but with your back turned you missed the way Nolan’s cheeks flushed brighter as his teammates shot teasing looks in his direction. There wasn’t a person in the Flyers locker room that didn’t know that Nolan was crushing on his neighbor, a fact that Nolan himself was dreading at that very moment. He didn’t trust his teammates to not say something embarrassing, and sure enough it was only seconds before Travis opened his mouth.

“Room for one more, if you want to come over.” Travis—you knew him from one of Nolan’s many stories about the road—suggested as if it was his apartment he was inviting you to. You shot Nolan a look, trying to decipher the look in his eyes to decide how to handle the situation.

“I don’t want to intrude if you guys are all hanging out, maybe—” The look in Nolan’s eyes was unreadable, stoic as ever, so you decided the best course of action would be to decline and stick to your original dinner plans, but yet another teammate stepped up and talked for Nolan.

“Come on,” He called with a wide smile and heavy Massachusetts accent. “We’ve got pizza.” You chuckled at his coercion, but extended a look to Nolan before you decided anything. This time, he was wearing a tiny smile, and you interpreted the look as the closest you were going to get to him inviting you over.

“As long as you’ve got pizza.” You sighed dramatically, relenting as if it was a terribly hard choice. A round of playful cheers went up around the group, and you joined them as they all shuffled into the apartment. You hung back slightly, following Nolan into his kitchen to get plates for everyone in order to get him alone. “If you want me to leave, I can. I know this isn’t exactly what we do.”

“I want you to stay.” Nolan told you, giving you a look as if he was confused by you questioning it. A feeling eerily similar to butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you did your best to ignore them and move on, not willing to confront what they meant at the current moment. He seemed to sense your apprehension, because he set the plates on the counter and cupped your face, pressing a quick and intimate kiss to your forehead. “Stay for me?”

Oh, you were screwed.

After that night, you spent more time with Nolan than without. A Flyers game calendar made its way onto your fridge, you found yourself watching more games than you ever thought you would. Nolan had weaseled his way into every aspect of your life with nothing more than a smile and a ‘come over’ mumbled through the phone—he had developed a habit of calling you instead of just a text, something you hadn’t realized you loved so much until he started doing it.

You were falling, hard and fast, but by the time you had admitted that to yourself you had already settled into a routine of being just friends—with benefits—with him. You hated that you were so invested in him, because with him came a whole hockey team, and suddenly you found yourself pacing your living room while the Flyers lost terribly. You were hoping that they at least wouldn’t get shut out, but as the final buzzer sounded through your television the team skated off frustrated and defeated, five to nothing.

Your phone buzzed not long after the game ended, a text from Nolan that made your heart skip a beat the moment you saw his name on your screen and stop all together once you read what it said. It was nothing more than a simple ‘stay up for me? I want to see you’, but it meant so much more. Your mind was running wild, you knew that he didn’t mean just for sex, something deep down told you that, and you wanted nothing more than to let yourself overthink.

Typing out a vague ‘door’s unlocked’ text in response, you hit send before you could talk yourself out of it. You sighed to yourself, wondering just when things got to this point; Nolan was supposed to be nothing more than a no strings attached relationship. Then things transformed into friends with benefits, and now you were stuck in something else where you were afraid that you were reading too much into things.

With a groan, you tried to get yourself to calm down. You changed into some pajamas and climbed into bed, doing your best to think of anything but Nolan and how he was due to arrive any moment. When you heard your front door open, you shut off your phone and dropped it onto your nightstand.

Nolan stopped in your doorway, and for a moment the two of you just studied each other. He looked incredibly tired, having played his hardest for forty minutes of hockey only to come up short. He must have gone home and changed, because he already was in a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. He looked so exhausted, so worn down both physically and emotionally from the hard loss, that without much thought you pulled back the edge of your duvet next to you. He picked up on your silent message, and without further instruction he climbed into bed beside you.

You were laying on your back, and Nolan tucked his head in the crook of your neck, one arm strung across you. Your hand immediately moved to card through his hair in an instant, and he let out a contented sigh at your action. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing, if he knew how much he affected you and how you were wrapped around his finger.

Nolan wondered if you could tell how hard he had fallen for you.

He thought it was obvious. You had been the only person he wanted to spend his time with lately, and now he was going to you for comfort after games instead of just sex. If he was being honest with himself, he had never wanted just sex from you, and now that he had a taste of what it was like to be yours, he never wanted to go back.

He just needed to tell you that.

You felt the air in the room shift after a moment. You could practically hear the gears turning in Nolan’s head; he was thinking about something and if he didn’t spit it out soon you were going to overthink yourself to death.

“Are you going to talk to me?” You questioned quietly, voice barely above a whisper but seemingly a scream in the otherwise silent room. Nolan hummed in response, vibrating against you from where he was pressed against you in an attempt to buy himself time to answer. Pulling back slightly, you pressed a kiss to his hairline, an action that you hoped would spur him on.

“I don’t want this to end.” He mumbled lowly, securing his arm around you tighter. You froze under the implication of his words, what it would mean going forward. All you knew was that you didn’t want things to end either.

“Who says it has to?” You tried. Both of you were speaking vaguely, neither saying what you really meant despite it being obvious. Nolan shifted after you spoke, propping himself up onto his elbow beside you. You felt his gaze heavy on you, and with every ounce of strength you had you forced yourself to meet his stare.

“But I don’t want to be just friends.” His voice was low and serious and in a subconscious move you reached a hand out to grab his shirt in an attempt to get closer to him. He was so close to saying it, saying what you wanted to hear about you and him and you and him and your relationship together.

“I don’t either.” The words left you in a whisper, barely audible. It was enough for Nolan, though, because in a moment his hand was on your jaw, thumb brushing across your cheek in an action so tender you felt yourself melt. And then his lips were on yours in a kiss so soft you felt yourself falling for him all over again.

You were gripping his shirt tightly, even after he pulled back slightly and dropped his forehead against yours. Even with the close contact, you could see the smile on his face. Your heart was hammering in your chest—the kiss, the confession, and your newfound relationship was almost too much.

“You know, I thought you hated me at first.” You told him. Nolan let out a laugh, one arm wrapping around you before he used his weight to flip the both of you so he was on his back and you were laying on his chest.

Nolan wondered if you could hear his heart racing, if you knew how much you affected him and how he was wrapped around your finger. He had been, for a while, and he had a feeling he would be for much longer.

Hating you was never an option.

#Nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #Nolan Patrick x reader #Nolan Patrick fic #Philadelphia Flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine #philadelphia flyers x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockeynetwork

[blueskrugs]

In Between Being Young and Being Right | Mat Barzal

this is for  @yes-he-mccann and the @hockeynetwork fic exchange! I hope you like it!  

this was written on a stack of looseleaf over the course of about four hours and I used up like half of a brand new pen on it.

length: 4.1k words

the torture of small talk with someone you used to love

You met Mat Barzal the summer after his rookie year, fresh off the high of winning the Calder, all good looks and a quiet confidence. 

You fell in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan. 

It was a whirlwind summer romance, and you both knew it. It was one of those relationships that usually came with an expiration date, when the sun set earlier and the nights were colder. You and Mat didn’t care, though, because you fell so hard and fast for each other that you couldn’t imagine a life without the other one in it. Besides, you heard the whispers of all your friends and family, the way they said that you and Mat were made for each other.

It certainly seemed that way to you too, because you saw the love in Mat’s eyes when he looked at you, the way his face lit up when you laughed with him, and you knew that love was reflected in your own eyes, even when Mat pushed you off the dock and into the lake. 

The summer passed in a humid haze. You talked about the future as you laid in the grass under the stars, hands tangled together between you. About Mat’s career. About you graduating college in a couple of years. Moving to New York. Following Mat and his dream. 

You sat around bonfires with your friends, sitting on Mat’s lap and wearing one of his hoodies, watching the sparks fly into the dark sky and feeling Mat wrap his arms around your waist.

The end of summer was creeping ever nearer, but you and Mat were as inseparable as ever. Until you weren’t, until Mat went back to Long Island for training camp. 

You felt the 3000 miles between you as you talked on the phone each night. You could feel Mat pulling away as the distance stretched between you. You also knew there was nothing you could do about it. 

“I think we should break up,” he said one night just after the season started. The Islanders had won, and Mat had scored a goal, but he sounded tired, exhausted in a way that was more than just the hockey game. You choked back a sob, but Mat continued on. “I just don’t think this long-distance thing is working.”

It wasn’t working because Mat didn’t want it to. There was more to it than that, you knew, but you didn’t push as Mat hung up the phone. You stared at your phone long after the screen went dark. You were wearing an old Thunderbirds sweatshirt of Mat’s, and it still smelled like him, but instead of being comforting, it was suddenly cloying. You pulled the hood over your head to sleep, letting the familiar scent wash over you as the tears fell onto your pillowcase. 

Life went on. You learned to paste on a smile and laugh when someone told you that they’d thought you and Mat had been perfect together, that you would have been together forever. You’d thought that, too. Last summer seemed like a lifetime ago.

Summer rolled around again. You hadn’t spoken to Mat since that last phone call; you wondered vaguely what you would say to him if you saw him again. You went back to the Lake with your family and hoped you never had to find out. 

You bumped into Tyson Jost, literally, one day in July in the middle of the lake. He was in a kayak, and he was definitely intentionally trying to knock you off your paddleboard. You splashed him with your paddle as he laughed. 

It was nice for a moment, familiar as Tyson pouted at you and tried to fix his curls, like it was last summer again. Except nothing was the same, and Tyson must have realized it at the same time as you, because his smile fell. 

“Hey,” he offered quietly.

“Hey, Tys,” you said back, sitting down on your paddleboard, letting one leg hang over the side and into the water. 

It  was quiet for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say next, just the sound of cicadas filling the air. 

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Tyson said.

You shrugged, tilting your face up towards the sun so you didn’t have to meet Tyson’s eyes. Tyson had always been nice to you, and you two got along, but he’d always been Mat’s friend, not yours.

Tyson nudged your leg with his paddle. “Miss playing Spikeball with you on my team,” he added. “We never lost when we were together.”

You laughed, looking back at Tyson, “That might have been because we’re ‘too competitive.’”

Tyson was grinning at you. “Nah,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You laughed harder; you weren’t sure when the last time you had laughed this hard was. “Wanna join me out here for a while?” you asked when you caught your breath. 

“I’ll race ya,” Tyson said, already turning his kayak around for a head start. 

You beat him anyway. 

You didn’t see Mat at all that summer; you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or disappointed. His sister texted you once, but you didn’t respond. Mat still followed you on Instagram, too, would like your posts within a couple of hours, but he never interacted further than that. Your thumb hovered over the “remove follower” button on more than one late night, but it never actually got pressed. You still wore one of his hoodies to sleep sometimes. It no longer smelled like him, and it left you lonelier than ever come morning. 

When your work offered to send you to an important conference in New York City as a representative for the Vancouver area, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You didn’t think about the fact that it was the middle of November, that hockey season in full swing, until a week later. You were in the middle of packing when your phone lit up with a notification that told you Mat had just scored a goal.

You looked at the Islanders hoodie that you had absently folded and placed at the top of your suitcase. 

New York was a big city, right? What were the odds that you would see Mat?

The odds were really fucking high, it turned out. 

You’d barely been in New York two days when you crossed paths with Mat. You were standing in line in a coffee shop, because your relationship was still a walking cliche, even after not seeing Mat for over a year. You heard his laugh before you saw his face.

You could never forget that laugh. You still heard it in your sleep, in the dark when you couldn’t chase the memories away. Except in your dreams it was never followed by a giggle that wasn’t yours. Like it was now. 

You resisted the urge to turn around, instead kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, but you weren’t really reading any of the words on it. 

A barista called out Mat’s name, and then he was brushing past you, murmuring an apology as he went past. He didn’t look at you, not really, more focused on getting his coffee. Not until he turned around, coffee now in hand, and you thought he was going to drop the cup for a moment as he did a literal double take. Frozen in the middle of a coffee shop in Manhattan. You would’ve laughed, but instead you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Y/N,” Mat breathed. You almost didn’t hear him over the din of the conversations around you. 

His hair had grown out some, you couldn’t help but notice.

Someone else bumped into you, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Mat was still staring at you, but at least he’d closed his mouth. The barista called your name, and you moved to grab your cup from the counter. Mat grabbed your arm as you turned to leave but jerked back quickly, letting go like he’d been burned. 

You didn’t have enough caffeine in your system for this, and you didn’t have time for it, either. You were going to be late at this rate, but you paused anyway, looked into Mat’s eyes. You were both saved from speaking by a girl coming over and draping herself over Mat.

“Mat, baby, what’s taking you so long?” Mat shrugged the girl off of him, looking annoyed. She turned her attention to you then. “I’m Clara, Mat’s girlfriend,” she told you, her smile turning a little mean, as if she knew exactly who you were. She didn’t offer a hand, and instead, wound her arms around Mat’s bicep. 

She was tall, model-thin and model-pretty. Blonde in a way that was too perfect to be real. You were suddenly acutely aware of your own chipped nail polish. 

Mat didn’t say anything, but he refused to look at you.

You gripped your coffee cup tighter, turned, and fled, the bell over the door tinkling cheerily. It mocked you as you felt your heart break all over again. 

Mat had moved on; you hadn’t. And that was fine. Or, at least, that’s what you told yourself as you sipped your coffee and walked through the crowded streets of New York. Your phone vibrated with a text in your hand, but you turned it off without looking at it and threw it in your purse.

When you turned your phone back on later that night, back in the safety of your hotel room, the text at the top of your screen was from Mat. 

“I’m sorry,” it read.

Then, several hours later, another: “she’s not you.”

You scoffed. You felt a little bit like throwing your phone at the wall. 

Another text from Mat came through. You wondered if he’d been checking his phone all day, waiting for the little “read” to appear under all of his messages to you. “It’s just easier with her.”

You blocked Mat’s phone number through your tears.

That night as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but wonder if Clara was the reason Mat had broken up with you. You wondered if she laughed at all of his stupid jokes like you always had. You wondered if she was friends with Tito, or if she had come to B.C. last summer and taken your place by Mat’s side. You wondered what would have happened if you had followed Mat to New York last year.

You would’ve followed Mat anywhere in the world once. Now, you were in the same city again, but you felt like you were worlds away from each other. You hoped whoever was on the other side of your wall couldn’t hear you crying. 

The Islanders came to Vancouver in February. You didn’t bother watching the game.

Soon, it was July again. You were going to a Canada Day party at a friend of a friend’s, and you were excited for it, for the chance to have fun on the lake for the day, just drinking and tanning. 

You didn’t know what impelled you to put on your cutest swimsuit, but you did it anyway. 

You’d barely walked into the backyard when someone barreled into you from behind, wrapping their arms around your waist and spinning you around. It took you a second, but you recognized the cheering voice as none other than Tyson Jost.

“Tyson, let go of me, holy shit,” you gasped. 

He did, but only long enough to turn you to face him and place his hands on your shoulders. He was out of breath and wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he was smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said excitedly. 

You had forgotten that your mutual friends at the lake overlapped. And if Tyson were there, Mat probably was, too. In spite of yourself, you peered over Tyson’s shoulder. You didn’t know if you were looking for Mat so you could avoid him or because you wanted to talk to him. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered when you finally spotted him, down near the lakefront. 

Tyson raised an eyebrow at you, but pointed you in the direction of the alcohol anyway, before you were being dragged across the lawn to meet his sister. 

Kacey was in a conversation with Mat, because of course she was, and you stood by and awkwardly sipped your drink as Tyson jumped straight into the conversation. They seemed to be arguing over whether or not a hot dog could be considered a sandwich. 

Kacey was sweet, and she seemed fun, especially when you teamed up to roast Tyson, but soon she was being called by someone else, and Tyson followed, leaving you with Mat. You glared at his back as he went. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Mat said quietly, dragging his bare toes through the grass. 

“Hey,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. “You had a great season,” you offered. It was true; Mat had put up great numbers, and the team had made it into the second round of the playoffs again. 

Mat looked up at you, startled, like he hadn’t expected you to still keep up with him and his team. He flushed a little and ran his hand through his hair. It was shorter again, you noticed. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

It was awkward, and you hated it. You could hear all the voices of your friends and family in your head, telling you that you and Mat were meant for each other, would be together forever, but right now it was like talking to a stranger. 

“How’re your parents?” Mat asked.

You forced a smile. “They just got a puppy.” You had pictures of him on your phone, but you had left it inside the house. “Where’s Clara?” you asked, willing your voice to stay even.

Mat flushed again and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “We, uh, broke up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Before Christmas,” he added.

Not long after you’d been in New York, you thought, but you knew better than to hope that you’d had anything to do with it. 

“Y/N! Barzy!” Josty yelled then, effectively ending your conversation. “Come play Spikeball!” You both groaned good-naturedly. 

Your hand brushed Mat’s as you walked towards Josty, but he flinched and took a step away from you.

You glared at Tyson again as you moved to stand next to him. “I hate you,” you hissed. 

Tyson feigned innocence and tossed the ball to you. 

You and Tyson beat Kacey and Mat, because it had been a while, but you weren’t undefeated as a team for nothing. You let Tyson pull you into a hug and tried to ignore how you felt Mat’s eyes on your back. 

Mat and Kacey moved on from the game, but Tyson was already busy trying to pull in your next opponent. You ended up staying on Spikeball for a while, long enough that you were sweaty and in desperate need of water as the sun beat down from overhead.

You left Tyson and wandered off in search of the cooler filled with water bottles. Mat was already there, and you nearly turned around. He was about to twist the top off of a water bottle as you approached, but he paused. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to you. “I think I took the last cold one, and I think you need it more than me.” 

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him, and instead just muttered a grateful, “Thanks,” as you opened the bottle and gulped some down.

“You and Tys were tearing it up out there,” Mat commented. You narrowed your eyes at him as you screwed the cap back on your water bottle. There was a note to his voice that sounded a lot like jealousy. 

“Yeah, Tyson’s great,” you said casually. “I’ve missed hanging out with him.” 

Mat’s jaw tightened. “I think I’m gonna go get a beer,” he said, brushing past you before you could respond. You blinked bemusedly after him. 

You didn’t see Mat again for a while. It seemed like you were both trying to avoid each other now and succeeding. 

You were laying out in the sun on one of those giant lake rafts, catching up with a friend from high school when a boy took a running leap off the dock and hit the water with a spectacular splash. Mat surfaced near you a moment later, flipping his wet hair out of his eyes. His chain was backwards, and your fingers itched to reach out and fix it. 

“6.5,” you deadpanned instead. “Good form, too much splash.”

Mat latched onto the raft you were on and rested his chin on his folded forearms. He grinned at you, and it hurt a little bit to have that blinding smile directed at you again. 

“You wound me,” Mat laughed. 

“You got me wet!”

“You’re in a lake, babe, you’re gonna get wet,” Mat said. To prove his point, he grabbed your ankle and dragged you off the raft and into the water. 

“Mathew!” you shrieked, only just managing to close your mouth before you went underwater. 

Mat was laughing when you came back up for air. You pouted at him, but you couldn’t help but grin as well when you heard the rest of your friends laughing too.

“Just like old times, eh?” Mat said, quietly so only you could hear. He was still smiling, but his eyes were sad. One of his hands had come up to rest on your waist as you both treaded water. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders and dunked him.

It was after dinner when you crossed paths again, though it wasn’t by coincidence this time. The sun was setting over the lake, and you were settling on a blanket to watch the fireworks with your friend. Mat came over, stood awkwardly in front of you for a moment before he spoke, his words rushed.

“Y/N, can we, uh, can we talk?”

You shared a look with your friend. Mat was picking at the label on his beer nervously. 

“Sure,” you sighed.

Mat held out a hand to help you up, but you ignored it and clambered to your feet on your own. He still waited as you brushed yourself off before he started walking, and you fell into step beside him. Mat led you away from the party, back up to the mostly deserted deck overlooking everyone.

Mat looked out over the railing, still fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. You rested your elbows on the rail and matched Mat’s pose.

“You blocked me, didn’t you?” Mat blurted. You bit your lip but didn’t respond. “Because I tried calling you after I saw you in New York, and I texted you when we were in Vancouver, but I could never get through.” Mat’s voice sounded accusatory now, and you felt a rush of anger surge through you. 

“What else was I supposed to do, Mat?” you asked. “You moved on, and then you have the fucking nerve to text me and tell me you dumped me because some other girl was ‘easier?’” Your voice rose, but no one turned to look at you. You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking, and you gripped the railing tightly to steady them.

“What were you even doing in New York, anyway?” Mat spits back, definitely angry now, too. “What were you planning on doing?”

Oh. Mat thought you’d come to New York to beg him to take you back. You laughed, but it came out bitter. “I was there for work, Mathew. The world doesn’t revolve around you, asshole.” Except yours did once, and still did a little, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You pushed off the railing and spun around, wanting to be as far away from Mat and this conversation as possible. But Mat grabbed your arm tightly, kept you in place. His fingers wrapped around your bicep entirely. His hand was warm against your bare skin, and you shivered in spite of yourself. 

“Wait,” Mat said. His voice had softened. “This is so not how this was supposed to go.” He still hadn’t let go of your arm, and you made yourself meet his eyes. In the twilight, they were dark grey, closer to green, that wonderful shade you used to wake up to in the mornings when he had snuck into your bed. The wind blew, and you shivered again. “Here,” Mat said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 

It smelled like him, and you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe it in. 

“How was this supposed to go then, Mat?” you whispered.

Mat sighed. “I got scared,” he said. His eyes were on the stars as they appeared overhead. “Which is a terrible fucking excuse, I know. But we were 20 years old, and I’d never been in love before, and then suddenly everyone is saying we’re soulmates or whatever. And we’re talking about the future, and I just got scared. Scared I’d fuck up and lose you, which I did anyway. Scared of never knowing anything else, but it turned out I didn’t want anything else. 

“I went back to New York without you, and I missed you. I broke up with you, and I missed you even more. But I didn’t know what to do to get you back. I can’t tell you the number of times Beau called me an idiot.” Mat broke off, shaking his head. “And then I met Clara, and, yeah, it was easier. But only because no one, not even us, saw a future there. I didn’t have to listen to everyone saying that we’d be together forever, but that’s all I wanted to hear.”

You had been quiet while Mat rambled, playing with a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He broke off then, took a swig of his beer, then made a face because it had gotten warm. You couldn’t help but laugh, and Mat looked surprised, but pleased.

“I missed talking to you on the phone every night,” you started. “Even when you called, you weren’t there, not really. I could tell something was off, but we were on opposite sides of the continent. I wanted to believe that you were just busy or something, but there was nothing I could do about it.” Mat’s face twisted, into something sad and pained, and he made a move like he wanted to take your hand. He didn’t, though, just rested it next to your arm on the railing. “I still sleep in one of your hoodies sometimes,” you admitted. 

It was Mat’s turn to laugh. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, and you didn’t resist.

“God, I was so stupid,” Mat groaned. You hummed in response, and Mat pinched your arm. “Do you think we could ever try this again?” he asked.

You looked up at Mat. Everything about his face was familiar– his jawline, his nose, his eyes– but older now. A lot had happened since the last time you felt like you really knew Mat, for both of you. Neither of you were the same person you’d been before.

“I hated all that fucking small talk earlier, by the way,” he added. “I can’t believe I did that to myself. Asking the only girl I’ve ever loved about her parents as if we barely know each other.”

You leaned into Mat more. “What about you being jealous of Josty,” you teased. “Can we talk about that?” Mat’s arm tightened around your shoulders, but when you looked up at him he was smiling. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Mat said. You giggled, and Mat’s face relaxed.

“Did you mean it?” you whispered.

“What? That you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved?” Mat pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I have loved you since I was 20 years old, Y/N, and I think I’ll still love you in another 20, and another 20 after that.” He brushed a kiss against both of your cheekbones. 

His face was very close to yours, and even in the dark you could see that his eyes were suddenly full of hope. He brushed his nose against yours. You surged forward to press your lips against his. Mat smiled into the kiss as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. He tasted like beer and sunscreen, like summer and coming home. 

The first firework went off above you; Mat’s hands tightened on your hips. Below you, people cheered. Mat pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” you murmured, and then Mat was kissing you again, his hands warm against your lower back where they had slid under your shirt.

And just like that, you felt yourself falling in love under the fireworks over Lake Okanagan all over again. 

#cait writes things #mat barzal #new york islanders #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockeynetwork

[bqstqnbruin]

Rinks and rouxes

Ok we’re ignoring so many things here as we normally do when I drop a fic. So first, we’re ignoring the fact that the plural of roux is roux and not rouxes like I have in the title because it sounds weird with English. We’re ignoring typos because no matter how many times I try to catch them all, I never do. We’re ignoring that this is being posted at like three am as well. And then there has to be something else that I’m forgetting but whatever.

This is the longest fic I’ve written as a one off fic so I hope you like this! This is for the lovely @slapshot-to-the-heart​ for the @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange (sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner but I was a mess this semester with grad school oop).

Enjoy!

_________________________

You were excited for the first few days in a while where you didn’t have to wake up to an alarm. A few mornings to sleep in, the sunshine pouring in through the windows, Quinn’s snoring filling the room in the bed next to yours. The boys had rented a cabin for New Years, having a rare few days off before and after the holiday to mess around somewhere outside of Vancouver. 

You were not expecting to be woken up three mornings in a row to a smoke alarm sounding in the kitchen because whoever made breakfast burnt something again. 

You sit up, groaning, rubbing your eyes. “Do you think they caught something on fire or do you think we can risk staying in bed?” 

Quinn sits up with a yawn, shaking his head. Before he can say anything, the alarm stops, yelling coming from the kitchen. “I think we should stay up here in case someone gets killed. Don’t wanna be a witness.”

The two of you laugh, the yells getting louder from the kitchen as the smoke alarm sounds again. “You guys make so much money and yet you insist on almost burning the house down every meal,” you say, watching Quinn get out of his bed, no shirt on. You tried not to stare at your best friend, but, fuck, seeing every inch of his torso just there, you were failing hard at not looking.

You grew up with Brock, getting introduced to his teammates shortly after moving to Vancouver for school, hitting it off with Quinn incredibly fast. To say that you had a crush on him was probably an understatement, falling hard and falling fast for the boy no matter how much you were convinced he didn’t feel the same about you. You figured whatever feelings you had would pass eventually. 

But that was three years ago. The feelings had not faded. 

And now, the two of you were sharing a room in this cabin, praying that what you smelled was not an actual fire coming from the kitchen. And he was just there, walking around your room without a shirt. 

“Y/N?” Quinn calls from the bathroom, pulling you out of whatever fantasy you were about to dive into. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Who do you think burnt the food this time?” 

You laugh, trying to remember who the guys decided was cooking that morning, your mind completely forgetting about whatever thirsty feelings you had coming on with Quinn right there. “I think Jake was supposed to do something but Elias didn’t trust him.” 

“I wouldn’t trust either of them to make us food.” he says, a cocky tone dripping in his voice.

“You act like you could do better when we both know you set off the alarm the first morning,” you chirp back, earning a scoff from him. 

His phone starts buzzing on the nightstand between your beds, nearly falling off the small table. “Want me to get that?” 

“Yeah, what is it?” Quinn yells over the water running from the sink.

You pick up the phone, your heart dropping immediately. “You have a new match! From Tinder!” you say, fake cheeriness dripping in your tone. “I didn’t know you were on Tinder?” 

You hear him laugh, the water shutting off. “The guys thought I seemed lonely so they made me an account. It’s not like I ever use it.” 

“Hm. See. Here’s the thing,” you start, handing him his phone as he approaches, plopping down on your bed to probably look at the new match, “You don’t get matches on Tinder unless you both swipe right, which means you had to have been using it.” He shrugs, not looking up from his phone. “I didn’t know you just wanted hook ups,” you let out, trying to hide the pain in your voice with a teasing tone. If he wanted to hook up, that would mean he wasn’t interested in a relationship, which meant he didn’t like you the way you like him. Why were you even thinking about that? Why were you letting yourself spiral?

“I do not. And before you say, ‘well that’s what Tinder is for,’ because I know you and I know that was going to be the next thing out of your mouth,” Quinn says, a smirk on his face as you roll your eyes at him, slightly blushing because he was right, “I definitely want a relationship but the boys thought this would be a good start.” You swear you saw his eyes flick down to your lips for a moment, leaning in ever so slightly. You had to be imagining this, your still crush on him causing you to make things up in your mind. 

“Quinn! Y/N!” interrupts you from the other side of your thankfully locked door, as you  practically launch yourself off your bed to see Brock on the other side. “I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” he asks, a stupid smirk on your face causing heat to run to your cheeks.

“No,” you say, even though you were sure your face was giving everything away. 

“We made breakfast,” he says, moving aside and gesturing for the two of you to join what sounded like the rest of the team down in the kitchen. 

“Are you sure about that? The smoke alarm says otherwise,” Quinn chirps, throwing a shirt on as he takes your hand and pushes past Brock. You could hear the sharp inhale that came from Brock, knowing that you would be hearing about this later. You can’t help but smile as the boys start to chirp each other, your heart racing until Quinn drops your hand, the smell of pancakes and burnt toast hitting your nose as soon as the three of you get to the kitchen. “So who fucked up this morning?” Quinn asks, trying to find plates for the two of you.

“Jake,” the guys chorus, forcing a laugh out of you and Quinn while you watch the teammate in question turn bright red.

“It’s not my fault!” he tries to defend himself.

“You didn’t even just burn it, you caught it on fire,” Thatcher yells through a mouthful of what you hoped was not the toast. 

“Do you even see any food for us to eat?” you whisper to Quinn, trying to look over the boys shoulders for anything that seemed edible. 

Quinn shakes his head, rolling his eyes as the boys continue. “Well whose idea was it to have me make toast?” Jake asks.

“We thought you were smart enough to use the toaster and not hold the bread over the open flame on the stove,” Petey mumbles, you and Quinn trying to hold back your laughter. 

“So, where is the food that Y/N and I can eat?” Quinn asks, trying to get the boys’ attention.

“I think we ate it all,” Brock says, a smirk on his face.

“Then why did you come get us?” you ask him, clearly annoyed with him.

“We had to make sure you weren’t doing anything inappropriate behind that locked door of yours,” Brock says, the rest of the guys acting like children at the thought.

Quinn scoffs, walking towards the stairs, “Ok, one, no one talks like that, two, Y/N and I are going out for breakfast, anyone who wants to come, be ready in the next 15 minutes.” 

You watch him leave, praying that someone else would get up to go get ready. “Looks like you’ve gotta go get ready for your breakfast date with your boy,” Brock teases, the boys now laughing at you. You hated that your feelings for Quinn were no secret. At least, it seems like it was known to everyone but him, but why did that matter?

“It is not a date,” you start, only to hear Jake yell, “yes it is,” behind you. You turn to him, pointing at him. “Remember that I played soccer growing up so I can kick you really hard if I have to,” you start, the smirk on his face changing to slight terror, “so if burning that toast didn’t kill you, I can.” 

You turn on your heels to go get ready, even more nervous about going out with Quinn since Brock had to go and call it a date when Jake yells, “I didn’t mean to burn the toast!” 

“You still did it, though,” you yell down, shutting the door behind you. You were panicked now, completely freaking out. As much as you told yourself it wasn’t a date, Brock’s annoying voice still rang through your ears, ‘your breakfast date with your boy.’ Fuck Brock. You start to change, realizing that Quinn could come out of the bathroom at any minute and see you half naked, more panic washing over you. You set your phone on the bed, grabbing clothes and try to figure out where to change. “Hey, Q? Can I get in the bathroom to change?” 

He opens the door, no shirt on yet again. This was not fair. You weren’t even sure how you ended up having to share a room with him in the first place, let alone what you did to have him walk around shirtless every day. You practically run into the bathroom before you can do something stupid, shutting the door and leaning against it. You let out a deep sigh, saying, “Fuck,” in the breath, cursing who evers idea it was the bring you here and put you in this room instead of in one with Brock, or in one all on your own. 

You shake your head of the thoughts of whatever he was doing out there. He was your friend, just like Brock was. Nothing more, nothing less. And you needed to be ready soon if you wanted to get breakfast since the idiots downstairs burned any semblance of what would be edible. You try to force any thoughts of Quinn from your mind, pulling on leggings and a sweater.

“Hey, Y/N?” you hear Quinn call, “You’re getting texts.”

You open the door, starting to brush your teeth as you call to him, “You know my passcode, who are they from?”

“Brock.” 

You stop brushing, terror and an urge to murder him rushing through you. “What do they say?” you ask him, thankful you had your toothbrush in your mouth to cover up the anger that would otherwise be taking over your tone.

“‘We all know you two are going to date,’” he reads, “and ‘If you don’t kiss him tonight, I will.’” You were officially going to kill Brock. “Who are you going to date?”

You position yourself so you can see his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom. He was almost pouting, his eyebrows knit together in frustration. He wasn’t mad about those texts, was he? He didn’t know they were about him, right? “Uh, just this guy Brock and I know from home. He was joking about inviting him here tonight,” you lie to him, hoping he would buy it. He nods, scrunching his face up. “You know he’s not coming, right? I mean, he’d have to get here from Minnesota.” 

He nods again, handing you your phone as you come out of the bathroom, letting you send a quick death threat text to Brock. “You ready?”

“Just need a coat,” you tell him. He takes your hand, leading you back down the stairs. You had to pass the kitchen to get out to the cars, passing the guys with your hand in Quinn’s. 

Quinn stops without warning, you crashing into him in surprise. The guys gaze went to your hand in his, pretty much ignoring his words as he said, “So is anyone coming with us?” No one says anything, Brocks mouth falling open as he readjusts his hand in yours, clearly holding it tighter. The look on his face told you that you would not be living this down, forcing a mental note to turn your phone off as soon as you get in the car. “Awesome, text us if you need anything,” Quinn says, dragging you over to the door. 

“Ok, your mood changed,” you point out, putting on your coat and practically running to catch up with Quinn at the car. 

“No, it didn’t,” he snaps, getting in the car. You climb into the passenger seat next to him, looking at him stare at the steering wheel in front of him. He turns to look at you, his mouth in a thin line, “The boys are just annoying me lately, I don’t know.” You cock your eyebrow, telling him that you didn’t believe him. “Ok, fine,” he says, starting the car up, “They made me get on Tinder when I have no reason being on it and seeing Brock’s texts to you made me think about the texts they send to me about-” he rambles, cutting himself off. He looks out the window, turning his attention to the road in front of you.

“About who?” you ask. The boys wouldn’t tell him that you liked him, would they? They would have no reason to be trying to egg him on about asking you out, right? Then again, if Brock would do that to you, who’s to say that he wouldn’t also do it to his teammates who he easily had a closer relationship with and spent more time with. 

“About the girls on Tinder,” he breathes out, you also letting the breath you had no idea you were holding in. Part of you wished he said you. At least that way you could get a read on what he thought about the idea of you two being together. If it was disgust then you could put the whole crush to rest. 

“I mean, if it’s Brock, just point out that the only women in his life are his dogs, me, and his family,” you try to reassure him, pulling a laugh from his lips. “But he would also probably say that he’s fine with it, so you might have to think of something better.” 

Quinn nods, a small smile on his face. You just wanted to know what was really going on inside his head, because what he told you was definitely not it. It’s not like you could pressure him about it, though. He wouldn’t answer you if you tried to get more out of him, so what was the point? The two of you drive the rest of the way in silence, finally finding a diner that you could find a parking spot in front of and walk in. At this point, both of you were starving, already praying that they had the classic breakfast food you could order as soon as the server would come over to you. 

You were seated in a booth by the window, looking out across the street to a small pond that was now covered with ice thanks to the cold Vancouver winter. It had to be thick enough to withstand the weight, because you could see a who you assumed to be a father with his two little girls skating around on the ice. They looked like they were showing him some sort of figuring skating routine, the smaller girl raising her hands over her head in a ‘ta-da’ fashion, the dad lifting her off the ice and into the air, spinning her around before kissing her cheek and putting her back down to chase her sister. You couldn’t help but smile, completely forgetting about the menu in front of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Quinn asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand. 

You barely even notice the warmth of his hand on yours, for some reason feeling all too comfortable by his touch, but you were lost in the memory and thoughts the scene on the pond had brought up. “Have you ever seen the movie ‘Holiday in Handcuffs’ with Mario Lopez and Melissa Joan Hart?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word, a smile on his face as he gets ready to listen to you.

“So, it is your classic tale of Stockholm Syndrome,” you say, both of you laughing, “But basically, she kidnaps him to impress her parents that she has this great boyfriend compared to her perfect brother and sister and they fall in love. There’s this one scene where they’re standing out on the back porch and she’s talking about how one Christmas Eve she had this big figure skating recital but it got cancelled because of a snow storm, so her dad made a rink in the backyard so she could perform it for them. Mario Lopez’s character surprises her the next morning by making an ice rink so they could skate around together.” 

You look over at Quinn, not even realizing that you had been watching the dad and his daughters the entire time. He had this soft smile on his face, for a moment forgetting that you two were out in public until the waitress came over to take your order. 

“Tell me more about this ice rink,” he asks you once she leaves. 

All you can really do is shrug. “I don’t know. Him making the ice rink just seemed like such a romantic gesture. If a guy did that for me, I think I would melt,” you tell him. 

“Just like the ice would,” Quinn jokes, leaning back as the waitress comes with your food.

“I hated that. I hated that so much,” you joke, both of you laughing as your phone buzzes on the table, interrupting whatever moment may or may not have been there. You sigh, seeing Brock’s name pop up yet again. He had to get tired of this constant teasing about you and Quinn at some point, right?

“Brock again?”

You throw your head back, letting out a groan that you hoped only Quinn could hear. “Since Jake burnt the toast this morning, he is now no longer allowed to make dinner tonight.”

“Tell them to order something then, we can pick it up?” 

“Nope. Brock told the guys about the mac and cheese that I used to make when we were in high school and now they all want it. Something tells me there is virtually nothing in that house that lends itself to being mac and cheese.” Brock keeps sending more and more texts about how your ‘date’ is going with all the hand holding you two had to be doing, prompting none other than an eye roll from you as you shove your phone in your coat pocket. “So now I need to get to the store at some point.”

Quinn looks at the window, watching the father pick up his daughters and carry them to his car. He smiles, turning back to you, “When we’re done, do you think Brock can take you? I have to take care of something.”

“Uh, sure?” you say in response, texting Brock to pick you up from the diner. Quinn’s mood shifted, becoming much more animated than he had been earlier. He kept looking between you and the frozen pond, the smile never leaving his face. 

He doesn’t stop talking the rest of breakfast, paying and leaving as soon as Brock pulls up to take you to the store. “So how was the date?” Brock smirks as soon as your door is closed, watching Quinn practically sprint to his car and drive off. 

“If you keep this up then you aren’t going to see the New Year,” you threaten. 

“We all know you two are going to get together, we just don’t know why you haven’t acted on it.”

“What was at the house from the recipe I sent you?” you ask him, praying that he’ll drop the subject.

“Nothing and you aren’t dodging this subject.” 

“You don’t even have milk?” 

“You saw what breakfast was this morning. And since you won’t admit the obvious here, we have a plan for tonight.” 

Nothing good could come of those words. You knew Brock well enough to know that any plan he came up with would end in disaster. And his teammates were just an extension of his idiocy. “Please don’t. If you love me at all you will not do anything,” you beg him.

“I never said I was going to do anything,” he teases. You glare at him, only resulting in him laughing at you as he pulls into a grocery store. 

You let out a deep breath, knowing today was going to be a long day. “Get flour and salt and then whatever else you guys want for food. You’re paying,” you tell him, practically running into the store just to get away from him. There was no way you were going to spend the entire time being heckled about the crush you didn’t want to have in the first place. It’s not like it was reciprocated, anyway. You could feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, dreading what Brock was texting you. ‘Do me a favor: grab your favorite wine and those sugar cookies you like.’ came from Jake. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t surprised it came from him instead of Quinn, but who were you to judge? ‘Can I ask why?’

‘Just want to make tonight special ;)’ 

Don’t like that. 

You shake it off, debating on even getting what he asked you for. Why would Jake ask you to get your favorite stuff? That seemed so out of character for him, at least in his interactions with you. You grab what you need for the mac and cheese, not even sure how much you should make considering how many boys were there in the house. You wander off to find Brock, praying that he actually got what you need. “This is not where you find flour.” He turns around, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, including the wine and cookies Jake had texted you to grab. “When I said flour this is not what I meant. What are you doing?”

“Jake wanted me to make sure I got these for you,” he tells you, handing them over to you.

You stare at him for a minute, your face scrunched. This had to be part of whatever scheme they were planning to get you and Quinn together. No part of you wanted their meddling, but you knew that the more you tried to fight it, the worse it was going to end up for you. “How long would I be in jail if I just killed you all?” 

“A few life sentences depending on how many murders you committed,” he shrugs, walking away from you. 

You didn’t even want to talk to him at this point, pissed off at the fact that they were all scheming against your wishes. You grab what you need, including some stuff for baking, figuring the longer you kept yourself busy, the less likely you were to to harm the idiots you were spending time with. 

“You bought apple cider and cream cheese for mac and cheese?” Brock questions, holding up the gallon at check out.

“Apple cider no, one of the cream cheeses, yes. You wanted me to make mac and cheese, let me make mac and cheese. I was gonna make apple cider cupcakes for everyone.” 

The two of you get back to the house, which was strangely quiet considering how many of the guys were there. You start getting to work on the cupcakes, figuring it was too early to start dinner. You get out everything the real owners of the house had to bake with, figuring that you could focus on this instead of whatever bullshit was going to face you that night. 

You get lost in baking, measuring and mixing when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. You didn’t care who it was, as long as it wasn’t Brock.

“Need help?”

You look up to see Jake leaning against the counter, his head resting in his hand. “After you caught the toast on fire this morning, I don’t think so.” 

The two of you laugh, falling into a conversation. Of all of Brock’s teammates, you probably had spent the least amount of time with Jake. It was nice; he was weirdly easy to talk to, somewhat flirty if you were reading him right. If he was showing interest in you when Quinn wasn’t, who cared? 

“Can I at least help with the frosting? I can’t burn that,” he begs, coming up right next to you. He juts out his bottom lip, batting his eyes as you stand there with the bowl, knowing that you didn’t want to whip the frosting yourself. 

You let out a deep sigh, handing him the whisk, “Fine. Get the cream cheese soft and then add in that vanilla and the powdered sugar.” He gets to work, you hopping up to sit on the counter next to him while the cupcakes are in the oven. “Why did you ask me to get my favorite stuff at the store?” 

He shrugs, a smirk on his face while he continues to whip the cream cheese. “You put up with us teasing you about Quinn so I figured you could use something that you enjoyed.” You can’t help but smile at his words, not even getting the chance to say anything before he continues, “So who are you kissing tonight?”

“What?”

“It’s New Years Eve. Who are you kissing at midnight?” 

You sit up a little straighter at his question, not even thinking about it before. “I don’t know.”

Jake stops whisking, the sound of another set of footsteps coming down the stairs. “Would you mind if I kissed you then?” You sit there for a moment, shocked. He knew you liked Quinn, right? You start to stammer out an answer, none of it coherent when he turns his attention from you to whoever just came into the kitchen. “Unless there was someone else Y/N should be kissing tonight, Quinn?” 

You twist around to see Quinn turning red, looking at you sitting so close to Jake, your leg obviously touching his side with the way you were twisted. “I don’t know why you would be asking me that,” he seethes, going over to the now beeping oven. “Want me to take these out?”

You nod, hopping off the counter to check if they were done, putting the first batch on top of the stove to cool, the next batch in to bake. “So, Y/N. You and me kissing at midnight, then?” 

You stand up, your back towards both of them. If Quinn had wanted to kiss you, then he would have said something. “I guess so, Jake,” you say, going back over to him to help him with the frosting. 

Quinn stands there, not sure what to do. There was no way you could be kissing his teammate tonight. He opens his phone, storming off before you could get the chance to ask him what was wrong. 

Jake eventually leaves you once the cupcakes are done, leaving you to start the mac and cheese the boys wanted. You start making the roux when you hear the front door slam, someone’s overly obnoxious laugh floating through the house. Whoever it was came into the kitchen, startling you while you were starting the melt down the cubes of cream cheese.

“Hi!” comes from behind you, an overly peppy high pitched voice, a skinny redhead appearing in the doorway. “I’m Katie!” 

You had no idea who this was, looking past her to see Quinn behind the two of you, nervous and practically shaking. “She’s my date for tonight.” 

“Oh!” you let out, turning the burner down and putting down the whisk. “I had no idea you were bringing a date! I’m Y/N,” you tell her, feeling less and less bad about agreeing to kiss Jake tonight. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, practically on top of you. 

“Making the roux for the mac and cheese tonight.”

“Rue? I thought that was when you made someone regret something. You know, like in iCarly?”

You turn to her, doing everything in your power to not burst out laughing at her reference. You swear you could hear Quinn muttering something under his breath, his head in his hands as he leaned against the counter. “That’s r-u-e, I’m making a r-o-u-x. It’s the base for the cheese part of mac and cheese.” She cocks her head to the side, looking between you and the pot on the stove. “You know, I think some of the guys are out on the porch with some beer, you should go join them,” you suggest. 

“Ok!’ she says, bouncing away. 

You turn to Quinn, your eyes wide and a mocking smile covering your face. “Well she’s just adorable. Where did you find her?” You knew you were being petty, but no part of you cared.

“Tinder,” Quinn mumbles. 

“Come here,” you tell him, handing him a spoon to start stirring the pasta. “Why did you find a date all of a sudden?” 

“Well who am I supposed to kiss at midnight now that you’re kissing Jake?” he snaps, some of the pasta water flying away from you.

“Brock?” you joke, earning a scoff from him. “Who did you intend on kissing? Me?”

He stares at the pot of water, shaking his head, “I guess I’m not now.” He puts the spoon down, leaving you stunned at the stove while he goes out with the rest of the guys. There was no way he wanted to kiss you that night. You couldn’t believe it. There was no way. You shake off the thought, finishing up the mac and cheese as the guys start coming in to ask where the food was. 

Everyone sits around the table like they were this morning, Katie talking everyone’s ear off about something you weren’t paying attention to. Elias was sitting right next to her, looking like he was plotting her murder with every passing second. If she went missing that night, he was the first one you were going to blame. 

“Hey,” Jake nudges you in the shoulder, taking you away from the trance you set yourself into, “You ok?”

“Yeah, just kinda tired. Someone woke me up with the smoke alarm again,” you tease, pulling a laugh from him. “I think I’m just going to go up stairs to mine and Quinn’s room.” You get up, Jake the only one seeming to notice that you were leaving the rest of the group. 

You must have actually fallen asleep, awaken by someone pounding on the other side of the door. “It’s open,” you say, fumbling around to turn on the light. 

Quinn opens the door slowly, poking his head in like he was afraid to see you. “It’s almost midnight. Are you gonna join?”

You nod, getting up to follow him down the stairs. The two of you reach the door to the backyard, Quinn stopping in front of you, bending down to grab the pair of ice skates that were by the door. “You’ll need these,” he smiles, taking your hand.

“What is this?” you ask when he opens the door, the guys playing a pick up game on a sheet of ice on the lawn. 

“You said you thought it was romantic when a guy made his girl an ice rink in her back yard. So I made one for you,” he says, looking down at his feet, his face turning red.

“What? I have so many questions.”

He laughs, sitting down to put his own pair of skates on, you following suit. “Katie is with Jake right now, probably doing things that we don’t want to know about. Turns out the guys used Jake as a ploy to get me to finally ask you out, so when I figured that out, I asked Katie over so Jake could have someone to occupy him.”

“You want to ask me out?” you ask, not hiding the smile on your face.

“Oh, you are so oblivious,” he groans, a smile on his face, as well. “Of course I do.” 

He picks you up to step on the ice, off to the side where the guys weren’t playing. Brock gets the puck past Thatcher, his hands in the air in celebration when Elias yells, “15 seconds!” 

The guys start counting down to the new year, your heart racing with each second as Quinn’s hands wrap around your waist. “Would you rather have me or Jake?”

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“You really have to ask?”

“Seven! Six! Five!”

“Yes.”

“Four! Three! Two!”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, Quinn’s face centimeters from yours, your foreheads pressed against each other. “You.”

“One!” the guys around you yell once Quinn’s lips connect with yours, everything around you melting away. 

“Happy new year, Y/N,” he whispers once he pulls away, stealing another quick kiss before the guys can pull you away from each other.

“Happy new year, Quinn.” 

#winter gift exchange #hockeynetwork #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagines #canucks #canucks imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

[princessphilly]

Hockey Fic Exchange: Second Chance in Chicago

This is for the @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange. I was matched with my friend, @texanstarslove​ and it was relatively easy to give her what she wanted. 

Title: Second Chance in Chicago

Player: Jonathan Toews

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 6410 words

 March 2007

“Wouldja look at that? There’s the future NHL star, looking like the dork he is.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue as Rachel announced the presence of the asshole himself, Jonathan Toews. They were all sophomores at UND but he had gotten drafted third overall by the Chicago Blackhawks last year. Hockey ruled UND so the team already had a high profile. But this year’s team looked like it would do some damage in the tournament so all eyes were really on them.

Tonight, Lizzie and her friends had decided to go to a frat party at the Beta house. It was a cold early March Thursday night but she had been in the mood to party. Unfortunately, the party had been invaded by the hockey team.

Jonathan grinned, his deep brown eyes sparkling like he had already pregamed. “Hey ladies,” he greeted before grabbing Lizzie and giving her a hug.

“Ew!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away. He definitely had pregamed, he smelled like good old Vladimir vodka. He was going to have a fucking hangover tomorrow.

Jonathan pouted. “I thought we were friends, Lizzie,” he exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around Lizzie again

“When did you think that?”

Rachel and Bethany snickered. It was a bit of a running joke, this animosity between Lizzie and Tazer. No one quite knew how it really started except it had been a freshman year hook up that ended bad. At least, that was the rumor. Ever since, Lizzie couldn’t stand Jonathan and Jonathan did every thing possible to needle her.

Lizzie flipped her hair over her shoulder before elbowing Jonathan in the ribs. Giving him an angelic smile, she ordered, “Don’t touch me.”

Being the drunken asshole he was at the moment, Jonathan leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You didn’t say that last weekend.”

“Ugh!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away before stomping towards the keg. Jonathan shrugged as TJ and some of the other hockey players came in. She was able to avoid him for the rest of the night and even flirted with a couple of junior guys she hadn’t met. Of course, as soon as she went to get a breather from the hot party, Jonathan was already outside.

Shivering, Lizzie huddled close to the door, planning to ignore Toews. There had been a snowstorm the other day and there was a good ten inches of snow on the ground.  

“Supposed to snow again tomorrow.”

Lizzie let out a loud sigh. Of course, he couldn’t respect her silent plea to be left alone. “This is North Dakota. It’s always snowing.”

Turning to her left, Lizzie looked at Jonathan. For once, he didn’t have his cocky, self-assured, ‘I’m the one in complete charge’ look on his face. He looked slightly pensive and a bit unsure. “Here, have my hoodie.”

“I don’t-,” Lizzie started to say but she relented as Jonathan put his hoodie over her head, pulling it down. She was cold as fuck, shivering in just a short-sleeved shirt and her jeans. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there for several moments, breath turning into puffs of icicles before Jonathan finally broke the ice. “Ridley, really?”

“Oh, you know him?” Lizzie tensed, UND wasn’t as big as other schools but she could at least have found someone that Jonathan didn’t already know. But then, hockey ruled here and he knew more people than her so yeah, just her fucking luck.

“He’s cool.” Jonathan shrugged, suddenly feeling nervous as fuck. It really wasn’t his area to talk, he didn’t really want to be a cock-block, but fuck it. “He’s not an asshole or anything. But we both know that’s not who you really want.”

“Oh really? Who told you what I really want?”

He hadn’t really planned to do it now; Jonathan had planned to go for it next month. But he already had told coach and his teammates that he was going pro after this season, so he might as well do it. “We have unfinished business, Elizabeth.”

Lizzie froze at Jonathan’s use of her full name.  He was the only one here at UND who ever used her full name. It brought back memories, those first weeks of spring semester of freshman year. Memories of doing things that would have had Momma reaching for her rosary and Papa yanking her out of UND to go into a convent. She bit out, “No, we don’t.”

“So, that’s why you called me last Saturday, asking me to come over after the game?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I was drunk,” she very primly replied, staring at her nails. She thought to herself, ‘I need a manicure.’

“Then last weekend, you came over and you definitely weren’t drunk.”

Lizzie shrugged, pretending she didn’t hear what Jonathan said. She didn’t want to admit the truth; Jonathan made her nervous. She was 19 and every time she was with him, she felt like this could be something that could be forever. But Lizzie had plans; she was planning to go east for law school, get out of North Dakota forever. This wasn’t the time to even think of settling down with anyone, especially not with Jonathan since he was going pro. Even though, her traitorous pussy reminded her, Jonathan made her cum better than anyone else and wasn’t scared to choke, bite, or spank her unlike other guys.

Jonathan growled, of course Lizzie would be acting obtuse. He wasn’t looking to settle down or anything serious, he was just about to turn 19 and about to go to Chicago in five and a half months to start his pro career. Jonathan did really like Lizzie a lot and wouldn’t be against putting a label on what was going on. Then, Lizzie got cold feet last year and had been stringing him along for over a year. It would be nice if Lizzie actually admitted that they had something going instead of being nasty to his face but fucking with him late at night.

“Okay, since you don’t want to face reality, I’m just going to say it. It’s not fair that you like to treat me like shit in public but you want me to fuck you when no one is looking.”

Lizzie opened her mouth before closing it. From the tone of voice that Jonathan had used, it sounded harsh. Like she was using him like a whore. But Jonathan wasn’t done.

“Don’t worry about my hoodie, I’ll get it before I leave.”

Jonathan turned around and went back inside of the party. Lizzie stayed outside for several more minutes, pensive. Then she harrumphed and rejoined the party, resolute that she was going to ignore Jonathan once she gave him his hoodie back.

**

Twelve years later

Lizzie brushed her ginger hair over her shoulder. It was weird to be ginger for the first time since she was fifteen. The past years, she had been a very faithful blonde but it was time to do something very different.

“Not bad for a rancher’s daughter.”

Lizzie twirled in her full-length mirror, admiring the way the navy-blue dress fit her body, accessorized with her diamond hoop earrings, tennis bracelet, class ring, and the brand-new patent leather heels she had managed to score on clearance at Neiman Marcus. Very much the uniform of an intellectual property litigator who had just made partner, not the yee-haw who had went to UND. But right now, as she thought about tonight, Lizzie felt like the yee-haw she tried to suppress.

Tonight, there was a fundraising cocktail hour for her firm, Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper. This would be the first one that Lizzie attended since she transferred to the Chicago office from Atlanta. She was good at gladhanding and charming people, attending Penn Law had sucked the yee-haw from Lizzie’s accent. Now, she was Elizabeth Romanelli, ready to make connections while raising funds for the Children’s Miracle Network.

Only fly in the ointment was that this fundraiser was being held at the United Center. Not only that, it was rumored that the firm was able to get a couple of players for the Blackhawks to appear. Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper did some work for the Blackhawks, mainly with local TV contracts and sponsorships. Lizzie took in a deep fortifying breath. “It has been years,’ she told herself. “There’s no need to be nervous seeing Jon again.”

She turned around and grabbed her coat. It was mid fall but the temperature dropped enough at night that Lizzie wanted to wear her coat just in case. Before she left, she looked at her left ring finger. Taking a deep breath, she slid her old wedding ring off her finger. It was a new start, time to act like it.

**

The fundraiser went pretty well, in Lizzie’s eyes. It was her first firm social event in Chicago so most of it was spent shaking hands, exchanging business cards, and talking some shop. There were a couple of Blackhawks players there, none of that Lizzie recognized. She admitted several times while in conversation, that she was more of a college hockey than pro hockey fan.

Then, the one person she was hoping wouldn’t show up, showed up. Lizzie worked hard not to check Jonathan out but he had the kind of presence that commanded attention. His hair was cut short and the once lanky frame had filled out completely. Lizzie smirked when she saw one of her fellow attendees lick her lips but she couldn’t blame her. Jonathan looked delicious in a black suit with a pristine white shirt, no tie. He looked like casual, dominant elegance in a hockey player package as he made his rounds the room.

“You’re lucky that your department doesn’t work with the Blackhawks on anything,” said the woman who licked her lips. Lizzie looked down and looked at her name tag, it said ‘Elise’.

“Oh why?”

Lizzie took a sip of her pinot grigio, waiting for a reply. Elise didn’t disappoint as she whispered, “He’s single and my law school loans say he would be perfect for them.”

She couldn’t resist laughing at that statement; Lizzie totally understood where Elise was coming from. But as soon as her laughter faded, there was Jonathan Toews, right in front of them. Elise looked up at him, obviously starstruck. Lizzie put her best courtroom face as she stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Elizabeth Romanelli. You are?”

Jonathan blinked when Lizzie introduced herself as Elizabeth Romanelli. She was Lizzie MacArthur in the flesh, all these years later. Grasping her hand, Jonathan said, “Jonathan Toews, but you know who I am.”

Jonathan kept his best PR smile on his face as he processed his thoughts. This was Lizzie, the only one who got away. She was a redhead now, not a blonde, but those green eyes were still the same. Deep green eyes that always brimmed with an intelligence that had made Jon feel like he was an idiot when they first met at UND.

“Oh, how do you two know each other?”

Lizzie managed to keep her expression completely neutral while Jon reddened a bit. He dropped her hand as he said, “We went to college together.”

“Where was that,” Elise innocently asked and Lizzie wasn’t sure if she was truly curious or if she was being a bit catty.

“I went to University of North Dakota with Mr. Toews for undergrad,” Lizzie said. “Then I did Penn Law.”

Elise replied, “Oh. I remember reading that once.”

Lizzie refused to roll her eyes as Jon made small talk about the hockey season with Elise. Spotting a waiter, Elise raised her hand for another glass of wine. Tonight, was looking like it was about to be long. Before she could make her escape, Elise exclaimed, “Oh, there’s Mr. Schmidt, I need to talk to him! It was so nice to meet you and talk to you, Mr. Toews, Ms. Romanelli.”

Lizzie sighed as she scampered away, leaving her alone with Jonathan.

“Long time, no see,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his water. Tomorrow was a game night and while he enjoyed drinking, he had no interest in doing anything that would keep him out of peak performance. But looking at Lizzie, he wished he had something stronger. The years had done her good; she looked curvier, stronger, hotter. He felt his pants tighten and Jonathan thought of his smelly hockey gear to deflate his hard on.

Lizzie stroked the curve of her new wine glass before replying, “I know. Wasn’t necessarily planned.”

“Romanelli?”

“I was married,” Lizzie’s smile tightened.

Jonathan quickly replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask anything that would make you feel- “

“It’s okay, let’s not go there, okay. Before you ask, I’m a widow.” Lizzie looked down at her wine. It had been long enough that she knew she wouldn’t break down but it was awkward to talk about it with her first college hookup/almost boyfriend. After all these years, Jonathan still had an affect on her. She felt a bit lightheaded but her once dormant libido had flared up as soon as they shook hands. It was as if her body had decided that someone worthy was nearby and it was time.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan repeated, his voice low as he ran his fingers through his short hair. It was a bit overwhelming seeing Lizzie again but he was already damn sure that he needed to see her again. As they exchanged pleasantries, Jon moved on to another group at the fundraiser. But every now and then, he made sure to catch her in the crowd.

At the end of the night, he was finally able to get Lizzie alone, again. “Now that you’re in Chicago, why don’t we go out? As old friends?”

Lizzie laughed as she waited for her coat. “We weren’t old friends and you know it.”

“But who said that we can’t be at least friends now?”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a big smile while she scoffed, “I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me all night that you aren’t interested in being just friends.”

“How was I looking at you?”

Jonathan leaned into Lizzie as he noticed that Seabs was nearby. While he loved Seabs as a brother, he didn’t want him to have any idea of what he was planning, yet.

Lizzie batted her lashes at Jonathan before replying, “Like you never seen a woman before. I have to keep the conversation business casual but we both know what I’d really like to say.”

“Then, you should let me have your phone number.”

“Smooth, Toews,” Lizzie commented. “Very smooth.”

“I try.”

Jonathan couldn’t help himself; as Lizzie received her coat from the coat check, he helped her put it on.

“Wow, I don’t know if you’re actually a gentleman now or if you’re trying to get points,” Lizzie quipped.

Jonathan gave her an aw-shucks grin and a shrug. Despite her better judgment, Lizzie figured that it couldn’t hurt. She didn’t really know anyone yet in Chicago and it would be nice to talk to someone who she at least knew from college. But she didn’t want to openly give it to Jonathan so she took the moment to turn and grab paper and a pen from a table. Writing her number and snap down, she slid it into Jonathan’s pocket.

“There, now you can never say I never gave you anything.”

Lizzie turned and sauntered away. Jonathan fished through his pockets and grabbed the paper, grinning and laughing to himself.

**

Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit. He knew how to attempt to get a woman’s attention. The flowers were a nice touch; not too ostentatious and he was smart enough not to attach his name to them. But Lizzie knew exactly who they were from because there were exactly nineteen pink and nineteen white roses in Monday’s bouquet. Yesterday’s bouquet was a set of nineteen purple flowers that after she looked them up, Lizzie found out that they were purple columbine. Today’s bouquet involved nineteen white camelias and nineteen red chrysanthemums.

“This guy must really like you.”

Lizzie turned around to see Peter, her paralegal. He was pointing at the flowers, a pensive look on his face.

“Really? He just wants my attention.” Lizzie dismissively waved towards the flowers but inwardly, she was loving it.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I have five messages from the managing partners.”

“I already know what they want and I already reviewed the files and sent them to Kristin, Jacques, and Malik. They are working on the briefs for the arbitration and they should all be done by the end of the work day. I will prep my own opening argument myself for the hearing when we are done talking. You can quote everything I just said in your email,” Lizzie stated with a smile on her face. This was her first arbitration hearing at the Chicago office with her new associates working under her. But she knew it would go well.

“But the flowers. I’d look them up, Ms. Romanelli. He’s sending you a message with each bouquet. Especially that first one with those kind of pink roses, maiden blush roses? Oh, he’s definitely telling you something.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Lizzie brushed Peter off, her mind already back on work. However, she messaged Jon later, I like jasmine, lily of the valley, the most.

The next day, there was a bouquet with yellow jasmine, lily of the valley, and red pink flowers, the number adding to 19 and a note, looking forward to seeing you tonight.

**

Lizzie was still a mystery and Jonathan was desperate to figure her out. This was their sixth date and every time he felt like he was getting closer to her, Lizzie pulled back. Jon understood but at the same time, he was getting annoyed. He was also horny as fuck and trying very hard not to let his cock dictate his actions.

Tonight, Lizzie wore a little black dress with strappy heels to dinner and all Jonathan could think of was having Lizzie wear those heels while he fucked her hard and fast. It took all his willpower to keep the conversation light during dinner as his traitorous brain filled with all kinds of dirty images. Now, they were having post dinner drinks at a place Kaner had suggested. It was very intimate, the kind of place for seduction. Unfortunately, Jonathan thought, there would probably be no seduction tonight as he stood on the wall with Lizzie.

“I intentionally wore these for you.”

Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes at Jon’s dumbfounded expression. She wasn’t dumb; she knew exactly the kind of affect she had on men. Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit; he was doing a good job of not being a stupid hornball.

“I love them,” Jonathan drawled before taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. He told himself to be patient, as they continued to talk but after another half-hour talking about football, Jon finally broached the subject. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Are you,” Lizzie countered. She went out on a couple of dates with a couple of different guys when the Blackhawks were out of town because, in her mind, she was still a free agent. Doing that actually made Lizzie feel more comfortable with going out with Jonathan. Not that the other dates were bad but Lizzie had to admit to herself that there was still something more with Jonathan.

“No,” Jonathan admitted. His DMs were full on all social media so he could go out with anyone he wanted if he truly felt like it. But right now, he really was just interested in Lizzie.

“That’s nice.”

Lizzie twirled the straw in her cocktail. Jonathan thought about what to say but ended up blurting out, “I still think about some of the things we did.”

“Woooooooow.”

Blushing, Lizzie bit her lip. Some of those memories had come back since she had seen Jonathan again. Some of those things that had seemed extra sinful at eighteen and nineteen were mainstream these days. Plus, Greg had tried but he didn’t have that same aura that teenage Jonathan had. Adult Jonathan had that dominant aura in spades and it was tempting.

Lizzie added, “And?”

Jonathan moved closer to Lizzie, his big body bracketing hers, his monotone voice even deeper, “You remember when I tied you up the first time?”

“That was…. interesting,“ Lizzie replied. She felt flushed, that memory now in her brain. They had been fumbling around and Jonathan had tied her up before making her beg and scream his name. But the knot had got stuck and after he cut her out, Lizzie had chafed skin on both of her wrists. “It was an interesting experiment.”

Jonathan licked his lips. He noticed that Lizzie was flushed, her body leaning towards his. It was almost heady, the tension, he could taste it. So, he decided to press into the attack.

“We’ve both grown up now. I mean, I know what I love to do in the bedroom and I’m not a teen boy fumbling around.”

Lizzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Jonathan’s pronouncement. Steeling her face so that she looked impassive, inwardly she was freaking out a bit. Jonathan had been pretty good fuck in college, better than the rest of her boyfriends before she married Greg. But this Jonathan, three times Stanley Cup winner and hockey superstar Jonathan, he seemed lethal.

And he knew it as he gave Lizzie a little smirk and a wink.

“Don’t worry Lizzie, no one is going to judge you now if you like a little pain. I definitely won’t. You know I liked giving it to you when we were experimenting.”

Exasperated, Lizzie exclaimed, “You’re still so arrogant! I seriously doubt you’d have a chance to fuck me again.”

Jonathan moved closer and Lizzie backed up, backing into the wall. Jonathan got close enough that Lizzie could smell his expensive cologne but far enough that she could easily move away if she wanted to.

“I don’t know why you’re still lying to yourself all these years later,” Jonathan murmured, his dark brown eyes looking black. “But I’m patient, I can still wait. You still want me and I’ve always wanted you.”

Lizzie bit her lip and Jonathan resisted the urge to groan. He had thought that he had forgotten her but just meeting her again two months ago had brought back those old feelings. Now, he was getting tired of playing cat and mouse but from what he had learned from TJ and Ridley, Jonathan was trying to be careful and tactical with his advances. He at least managed to get her to go out with him. His cock could wait.

Of course, after telling himself that, images from a decade ago filled his head. Ignoring them, Jonathan instead taunted, “Nothing to say? I never thought lawyers could be rendered speechless.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie reached out and touched Jonathan’s sweater. It was super soft and felt like it was made from the finest cashmere. She finally replied, voice low and soft, “Why am I so attracted to you? This shouldn’t really be happening.”

“Fate.”

It was a very simple reply as Jonathan grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, just a brief touch of closed lips to skin. But it felt like electricity coursed through both of them. Jonathan recovered first before giving Lizzie a devilish smile. “Night, night Elizabeth.”

***

“He’s way too smooth.”

Lizzie took in a deep breath as she watched the first snowfall of the year through her office window. Rachel’s laughter at her complaint registered super loud over her ear pod.

Rachel commented, “Of course he is, he’s had over a decade of practice. I can’t believe he’s still interested; I think Jon has dated models and he could date anyone. You’re lucky as hell, Lizzie.”

Lizzie pouted as she moved away from the window. “I don’t know if I want to be lucky.”

“Well, I remember all of the sneaking around you’d did when we were in college. You had no problems fucking him in private.”

“RACHEL!! Oh, my Gawd, you knew that?!?”

Lizzie put her hand on her forehead, mortified. She thought she had been cautious.

Rachel chuckled before continuing, “No one else figured it out. But it was obvious that sparks were flying. And then Jon goes pro and you end up dating around until you met Greg. But you never were as happy as you were freshman spring.”

Lizzie sighed, feeling a headache beginning to start. “Greg, you know I loved Greg.”

“I know honey, if you hadn’t, I would have seriously considered stopping the wedding,” Rachel consoled. “And he did help you escape the ranch and your parents’ plans.”

“I’ve been a widow for 3 years and this is the first time I’ve been attracted to a man,” Lizzie blurted out. Her cheeks reddened as she realized her admission.

There was an extended pause before Rachel finally replied. “Then you should go for it. Greg wouldn’t want you to give up on sex because he’s gone.”

Lizzie flipped through the messages on her work phone as she pondered Rachel’s words.

“I gotta go, Alyssa is about done with school and the baby should be up any minute. Stop thinking and just fuck him. Just remember to put color corrector and concealer over any marks Jonny leaves on you.”

Lizzie exclaimed, “Rachel,” but she had already hung up. Checking her personal phone for messages, Lizzie grinned when she saw she had a snap from Jon. Opening the snap, she saw a photo of Jon signing jerseys and picks with a note of can’t wait to give you one.

Lizzie responded; too bad I’ll be too busy to get one for the next couple of weeks

Lizzie put her phone down, ready to focus on her work before getting a new message from Jon. I told u I can be patient.

**

Lizzie looked down at her list of pros and cons. All the pros were reasons why she should fuck Jonathan: get rid of all the unresolved tension from college, he’s an already proven great fuck, probably the best guy to be her first fuck since Greg passed away. The cons were that he was Jonathan Toews, he was famous, and he did have the ability to be an asshole. Her skeptical side told Lizzie that she probably couldn’t keep it casual but the other side was like, was that a bad thing?

Shaking her head, Lizzie pulled on a pair of jeans before putting on a sweater. The Blackhawks were back in town and last night, she went to the game courtesy of Jonathan. Lizzie had taken Elise with her and they enjoyed the Blackhawks winning against the Flames. It was actually fun as Lizzie explained some of the finer points of hockey, such as power plays, penalty kills, offsides, and the fact that all refs in all sports were absolutely awful. Tonight, she actually told Jon she would come over after they saw a movie.

Lizzie was curious about where Jonathan lived. She knew it was in an area called Lincoln Park; she lived in the outskirts of the North Side. Her student loans from law school demanded payment so Lizzie moved in the nicest area she could afford, in a gentrifying neighborhood. “Get a taste of how the rich live tonight,” Lizzie said to herself. However, she did put on a matching pair of underwear just in case she decided to do more.

**

Jonathan looked at Lizzie as the car pulled up to his place. He had been on his best behavior tonight; no sly comments, etc. after last time. But Lizzie had been cuddly during the movie and now, she… he couldn’t read her actions.

Jon entered his code and led Lizzie inside. “Very nice,” Lizzie commented as they walked through the first floor of his place.

“Oh wow, you have my favorite flowers,” Lizzie exclaimed as they walked into his kitchen. There was a vase with Spanish Jasmine flowers.

Jonathan shrugged even though he was inwardly pleased. He had ordered them this afternoon, a rush order when Lizzie said she would come over. Now she was here and he felt at a loss. His cock said to seduce her, his brain said to wait for her cues and see if she was actually interested. Jonathan grabbed two cups and got himself and Lizzie a glass of water before guiding her back into the living room.

“More movies,” Lizzie teased as she made herself comfortable on his leather couch.

Jonathan shook his head no, suddenly nervous as he cut on the TV. He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lizzie smirked as she watched indecision on Jonathan’s face. Tonight, had been their first date since that conversation and it was obvious that Jonathan was still very interested but didn’t want to do anything that seemed pushy. Lizzie thought at first it was because they were out in public but she realized that if she wanted to actually go there again, she would have to bring it up.

“What are you thinking about, Jon,” Lizzie asked, intentionally shortening his name.

Jonathan put his arms on the back of the couch and mentally said fuck it. “Do you want to good answer or the dirty answer?”

“Dirty answer?”

Lizzie grinned as Jonathan gulped then groaned.

“I keep looking at your ass in those jeans and I want to grab it so bad,” Jonathan admitted. Lizzie looked at his big hands and she decided that tonight was the night.

“You can grab it, if you want?”

“Huh, what?”

Jonathan looked so dumbfounded that Lizzie giggled. “I said you can grab it. That’s another way of saying, you can touch me.”

“Are you sure,” Jonathan asked, locking eyes with Lizzie.

Lizzie rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand. “I came here with the full intent of getting fucked. But if you aren’t interested, that’s okay and we can hang out before I go home.”

“Oh, do you really want me to fuck you?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow as Lizzie flung her hair behind her shoulder. “I want you to kiss me, eat my pussy, maybe I’ll suck your cock, and then fuck me, if you want to get precise.”

“Goddamn,” Jonathan breathed. “Fuck, then why don’t you sit in my lap?”

Lizzie climbed into his lap before locking eyes with Jonathan again. His deep brown eyes looked nearly black and he had stubble all around his jaw. She traced his jaw with her fingers before running her fingers through his hair. His voice a deeper monotone, Jonathan murmured, “I’m not going to bite, unless you want me to do that.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie brushed her lips over Jonathan’s, once, then twice. Then she leaned down and nipped his lip. “I like biting,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. Jonathan’s arms came around her waist, keeping Lizzie in place as he began to take over the lazy kiss. Need stretched through their kisses, tongues interacting as over a decade apart melted away. Then Jonathan pulled away. Lizzie reached to pull her sweater off but Jonathan stopped her.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in forever on a couch, at least not this time.”

Lizzie laughed as Jonathan picked her up and nearly ran to his bedroom. She didn’t even get a chance to look around and admire before he was on her. Jonathan’s hands were all over her body as he desperately kissed her. Before Lizzie realized it, her sweater and bra were off and so was Jonathan’s hoodie and t-shirt. She could feel his rock-hard abs against her body as Jonathan rolled so that Lizzie was on top.

“Your tits are still fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie beamed as Jonathan gently kneaded them in his hands.

He murmured, “They are still so sensitive,” as her nipples hardened quickly in his fingers, watching Lizzie’s changes in expression. “So, you’ll tell me right away if I do something you don’t like?”

“Like what,” Lizzie asked.

Jonathan lightly grabbed her throat, something they had never done before but something he had learned that he liked to do. “Like that.”

“Mmmm, this is good,” Lizzie replied. Choking was one of the kinks she had explored with Greg and that she missed.

“Fuck, you got dirtier,” Jonathan stated before rolling Lizzie under him again.

“Why don’t you stop talking and undress me some more,” Lizzie ordered.

Jonathan laughed before idly replying, “Normally, I wouldn’t let you tell me what to do but we haven’t even negotiated that yet. And we aren’t, not tonight.”

Lizzie’s giggled as she shimmied out of her jeans. But those giggles were replaced with moans when Jonathan’s fingers brushed her upper and inner thighs before stroking her pussy through her panties. “So wet for me.”

He had planned to go slow but Jonathan was pretty sure that wasn’t happening, at least not for this first round. He needed to be deep inside of Lizzie, back where he belonged. Jonathan stood up and took off his own jeans and boxers, revealing his very hard cock. Lizzie reached up and ran a hand over his cock before pumping it with both hands.

“I’m not going to last that long,” Jonathan warned as Lizzie began to jerk him off. “I want to cum deep inside of your pussy, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my God,” Lizzie breathed. There was something in the way that Jonathan said her full name, it made her pussy drip even more.

Jonathan reached into his night stand and grabbed a condom. “Be a good girl and put this on me.”

Lizzie took the condom from Jonathan’s hands and opened it. Then she guided it over his cock with a wicked grin on her face. Leaning back on her elbows, Lizzie smirked at Jonathan before sucking her lip into her mouth. “Fuck me, Jonathan.”

Jonathan growled as Lizzie spread her legs, showing him just how wet and ready she was for him. Pulling a leg up and over his shoulder, Jonathan entered Lizzie slowly, making sure she felt every inch. Lizzie moaned, her hands grabbing anywhere they could on Jon as he fucked her, slow soft strokes turning harder with each thrust.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Lizzie groaned as Jonathan gave her a harder thrust, hips grinding with each stroke.

Jonathan managed to reply, “Your pussy still feels like it was made for me.”

He was already close and Jonathan couldn’t hold off even though he could tell that Lizzie wouldn’t cum with him this time. Jonathan’s lips found Lizzie’s as he kissed her while he came. Lizzie let Jonathan ride his high out, she could feel that she was getting closer but she wasn’t there.

Jonathan slumped against Lizzie for a couple moments before withdrawing from her pussy. He took off the condom, telling Lizzie, “Stay there.”

Dumping the condom into the trash, Jonathan pulled Lizzie to the edge of the bed. Spreading her legs, Jonathan knelt in between, fingers spreading her folds. Then his tongue licked her clit and Lizzie arched off the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” Jonathan cooed as he played with her clit. Then he dove in, licking her juices from her pussy before tongue-fucking Lizzie’s entrance. His fingers continued to roll her clit with light pressure, enough to keep Lizzie on the edge but not enough to get her to cum. Then Jon sucked her clit into her mouth and bit it very lightly, enough of a shock to get Lizzie to cum with a scream, fingers grabbing sheets to hold on for dear life. Jonathan muttered something in French as Lizzie rode out her high. Then she fell asleep with a light snore.

**

Lizzie laid on the bed, her hair fanned out around her head, body too depleted to move yet. But she peeled herself up as Jonathan was sitting up next to her, a MacBook in his lap.

“Wow, what time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight,” Jonathan replied. He had changed into a pair of sweats and Lizzie licked her lips. He looked really good in gray sweats.

She shrugged. “At least it’s Saturday.”

“I cleaned you up after you passed out.”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a wicked grin as she blushed. “It’s been a while,” she replied.

Lizzie got up and Jonathan pointed to his left, indicating that was the way to get to the bathroom. Lizzie stepped inside of the master bathroom, still too tired to check it out. After taking care of business and washing her hands, Lizzie walked back into Jonathan’s bedroom. Jonathan handed her a t-shirt and said, “You’re too tired to attempt to drive home. You can stay here; I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I like cumming so you don’t have to keep them to yourself.”

Lizzie gave Jon a saucy smile while he groaned.

**

Let yourself be happy. Find that guy again, the one who was before me. I just want you to be happy, don’t shrivel up and die because I’m gone.

Lizzie looked at the note, last note from Greg before he passed from non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her wedding ring was on next to it, the simple gold band twinkling in the late winter sun.

Today was her seventh month since her move to Chicago, fifth since she met Jonathan for the first time in years. Tonight, she was going to the game, Elise going with her but this time, they were going to sit with the WAGs. Lizzie had met Jonathan’s closest friends and teammates and it was obvious that there was something happening between them. But Lizzie felt the need to look at this one more time.

“I’m going to be happy, Greg,” Lizzie whispered before putting her old wedding ring and the note in a box, setting it next to a vase of nineteen red tulips that Jon had given her. Then she pulled her hair into a ponytail, sent all work calls on her work phone to voicemail. Picking up her personal phone, Lizzie smiled as she looked at the text from Jonathan.

She wasn’t going to run this time. She was going to embrace a future with Jonathan.

#hockeynetwork #Jonathan Toews #smut #angst #drabbles #blurbs #blackhawks #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

[marcoscandellas]

Marco Scandella Pre-Game Interview | (Feb. 18, 2021) STL v. SJS

requested by @deysi-b

#st louis blues #marco scandella #stl blues #hockeynetwork #st. louis blues #[gifs] #this man will be the death of me #with his perfect face perfect hair #that stupid semi-smirk and smile at the end

[landeguin]

This is for the @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange. I was matched with @romanseggy​​ and it was relatively easy to give her what she wanted.

Player: jamie oleksiak

Genre: Sweet, smut

Word: 2923

December. A wild time. A time of gifts, hockey madness, birthdays, Christmas, and a year’s end. Truthfully, it could be a bit overwhelming when you really thought about all that came with the month of December. While this year could have (maybe should have) been a bit more intimidating, you were actually thrilled for December and the adventures that would come with Jamie at home. While traditionally he would have been on a busy schedule, with the pandemic even going to the store was questionable, and it left the two of you with nothing but time for each other. 

Often, when you told your friends that having nothing but time with your partner was amazing, they would roll their eyes and tease you that you had to be full of it. But truthfully, the break from Jamie’s insane schedule, and getting to have him to yourself for a solid few months, especially during December, was a gift. Of course, you two would separate in the house from time to time, but it wasn’t because you were annoyed with each other, it was just the normal flow of life together.  You both found ways to make a life together work in any season, even during a global pandemic. That was when you’d both known that this was it for you two; in it to win it, for life. 

One of your favorite activities of December, was the couples advent calendar you’d always done. Generally, Jamie would participate remotely, but this year, since he was home, you were getting to take in the fun together. On the first of December, you’d opened the box and let the fun commence. Each day, there was something fun you were supposed to do together to celebrate the Holiday, whether it was giving, shopping, or making something, there was a lot of little hidden fun to share together. Today’s was probably your favorite though. It was day 18, and the request on the card was to make hot cocoa, light a fire, and watch a Christmas classic on a blanket by the tree. As sappy as it was, you always loved getting to curl up with Jamie and feel the warmth of his tall, strong body pressed against yours as he held you close. He would do this thing with his mouth where he would nibble at his lip while he watched you, as if he couldn’t keep his smile from his face. It made your heart flutter a little more with each glance that he gave you. 

You’d spent the day getting things done around the house, and were finished with dinner, and, now, you got to fulfill that advent request. Jamie was gathering a few pillows and blankets for what he was calling “the best cuddle den ever” and you couldn’t help but smile as he made what seemed like a little fort for you two to get comfortable. 

With steaming mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of a few cookies, you moved into the living room where Jamie was standing with a smile. He looked so cozy. All of him so warm, thick, and inviting as he took the plate from you, gently setting it down and taking a mug to empty your hands so you could get comfortable. He watched you with a smile as you settled down onto the surprisingly comfortable set up. He’d used some pool rafts, and was quite proud of himself for being ingenious. Once you were situated he settled down beside you, pulling you into his firm chest as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as he took a sip from the mug, letting out a sigh of pleasure. “Mmm, so good,” he winked at you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You smiled and let out a sigh after taking a drink from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table as you curled into Jamie’s chestk, resting your head on his shoulder. With an arm across his abdomen, you curled in closer, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure. “What movie did you pick?” 

He smiled and pushed play on the TV, “You’ll see.” 

Humming, you watched the screen, his hand threading through your hair as he held you closely. 

With a chuckle, you shook your head when you heard the opening lines of Home Alone. Of course, a true classic. You couldn’t even count on your hands the number of times the two of you had watched this over the course of time you’d been together. You loved to watch Jamie’s face though, and hear his giggles at the ridiculous scenes, or the way he would scoff at the parents for forgetting Kevin.  

Truthfully, he could have picked any movie, and you would have been content. The highlight of the night was getting to be curled up next to him, enjoying his excitement for the movie. He was so full of passion that didn’t always get to be seen, unless he was home with you. There was public Jamie, and home Jamie. You loved both, but always felt so lucky to get to have him to yourself. 

As you stayed curled up next to him, you wiggled closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as he kissed your forehead, his lips trailing gently over your skin and towards your hair as he peppered you with kisses. It made your heart warm and quicken as he continued to love on you, hand reaching for yours as he laced your fingers together, settling you back down through the movie. 

Sighing, you moved closer, tossing a leg over his thigh as you pulled yourself closer to him, running a hand down his chest. 

Jamie smirked, putting a hand to your ass as he hiked you up closer to him, his other hand tangling into your hair as he watched you. 

You smiled and rubbed against his thigh, leaning up to press a kiss to the line of his jaw, nipping and kissing gently as he watched you through his lashes. 

“Careful, baby, don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he hummed, biting his lip. 

With a smirk, you leaned into him, pressing a firm open-mouthed kiss to his lips, your tongue finding his as you hummed into his mouth. He grinned, pulling you closer and higher onto his lap so that you were straddling him instead of just his thigh, his desire becoming apparent as he pushed up to kiss you more intently, his hand trailing through your hair with a gentle tug. 

You started to wiggle your body down, stretching out on his torso, pushing at his shirt so that you could feel his warm skin. Jamie wasted no time, separating from you for a minute to get rid of his shirt, tossing it behind you. With a chuckle, you leaned back down towards him, kissing his pecs and chest, placing gentle kisses on his abs and torso, a finger teasing his belly button before you smirked, looking down towards his growing bulge. He was very pleased with how this movie was going. 

When you crawled back up his torso, Jamie leaned up to kiss you, his broad hands pushing at your top and bottoms, not without getting permission though as he looked up at you questioningly. He could be a total freak, but then he would be so sweet and respectful. You nodded and wiggled your hips out of her bottoms, kicking them off. Jamie ran his hands down your back and hips, resting on your ass as he pulled you back down for a kiss.  You traced his bottom lip with your tongue, so unbelievably comfortable with Jamie and how much he enjoyed you. He hummed, rubbing your lower back before pressing you towards him. With a smirk, he quickly moved and rolled you over so that he was towering above you, sitting comfortably with his legs on each side of you. 

You grunted, wiggling so you could get propped on the pillow comfortably. Jamie watched and waited for you to be situated before he started to press kisses down your torso, peppering the warm skin. He kissed down your stomach, legs and knees, working his way, nose nuzzling your inner thigh gently. With a shift, you whimpered quietly, watching him with heavy lidded eyes. He looked up at you with a smile before nosing his way to the waistband of your panties, placing kisses around the top, then slid towards your belly button, placing soft kisses once more on the skin of your hip bones, eyes intent on yours as he waited for approval. 

With goosebumps covering your skin, you nodded, watching as Jamie traced a patch of skin with the tip of his tongue, nibbling gently on your hip bone, nose tickling you. A smile covered your face as you chuckled, hips lifting towards him as he teased you. “Baaaabe.” You plead for more, laughing as he nips at your skin. 

Jamie grew a wide smile, lazily almost, as he leaned up on his elbows to watch you. He leaned down and kissed at your skin again gently, kissing down under your belly button, moving over the top of your panties, as he nipped at the band. His hands slid up your thighs, tugging gently at the fabric, watching you for any sign of resistance. You lift your hips instead, encouraging him to continue on. 

With a hum, he began sliding the panties down your thighs tantalizingly slow, kissing your skin each step of the way. He slid the fabric off your foot, kissing his way up her inner thigh. You let out a soft sigh, patience growing slimmer as you felt the desire pooling in your belly. He was taking his sweet time, and you really wanted to feel him. 

He seemed to have you figured out pretty well; he knew just where you liked those simple kisses on your thighs that had you blissed out, without a single touch to the sex. With a smile, he slid down more, fingers reaching out to trace at your core, watching reactions carefully. It was like he was finally going exactly where you wanted him as he pressed gently, a hiss falling from your lips as he moved towards you more, his mouth following his hand as he found where he wanted to be, wasting no time in burying his face between your thighs, licking at your skin before he licked with intention of making you cum. He was a tease, always, and knew it. He wanted you to have as much enjoyment as possible.  You whimpered quietly while Jamie caressed you in all of the right ways, your breathing harder as you tensed under his work, hips still against the sheets, eyes fluttering, hands gripping tightly as you whined, very much enjoying him. Jamie continued on, slowly bringing you close to the peak, before he would back off, wanting it to not end just yet. 

 As you would look down at him and whine, really wanting to let go, he’d smirk and slow down. After what felt like forever, but in the best of ways, you reached down to warn him, tugging on his hair carefully. He didn’t pull back, continued on, even through orgasm, your body whirling through pleasure, whining and clutching at the sheets, breathing heavily as you held on for as long as possible. 

Slowly, Jamie pulled off, sliding up beside you, thigh pressed against your center as he wiped his face on the sheet, then looked over at you with a grin, proud of himself for what he’d just gotten out of you. With a cheeky grin, he spoke, “Hi.” 

You snorted at him reaching over to rub his cheek, eyes heavy as you watched him, thumb tracing over his lips. You leaned over, kissing him softly at first, tongue finding his, massaging gently as you caressed his chin and jaw, a hum filling your throat. Your whole body was warm with want, lower half tingling still as you watched him. 

Tired of the sweetness, you huffed and pulled him closer, letting your fingers trail over his back, eyes slowly raking over his body, stopping when you landed at the tent in his boxers. Chuckling, you pushed at the waistband, pulling the fabric down precisely, the back of your hand grazing over his erection in the process. Finally, you were going to get somewhere again. 

Ever so gently you slide your hands down his hips, resting on his length as you fisted him gently, fingers sliding over the hot flesh as you kissed his neck, rubbing at the tip of his cock.  He bit his lip, head bowing down to rest on your shoulder as you rubbed and rolled up his thick length. You began to wiggle down, intent on sucking him off when he stopped you, dropping his hand to your wrist. “Babe. I can’t, I’ll fuckin’ blow.” There was too much pent up sexual tension now, he knew he couldn’t handle both at this moment, not with the way you were giving him those innocent eyes and coy smile. 

You laugh, but stick  your lip out, batting your lashes as you looked up at him. Clicking your tongue, you shrugged with a smile. His loss. 

You rubbed his chest, tracing the trail of hair from his navel to his pubic bone, watching him. You were more than happy to go whichever direction he wanted; it was only fair and you wanted to show him pleasure more than anything right now. 

With strong hands, he slid you up to eye level again before kissing you gently, a hand caressing over the soft skin on your side as he watched you with those intent eyes.  He was going to fuck you, you could sense the shift in his body and mindset as he raked over your body with those deep, dark eyes, his tongue trailing over his bottom lip as he watched you intently. 

It was an effortless move and he had the roles reversed so he was hovering above you, his eyes intent on yours as he sucked your throat, nudging your legs open. With a glance at you, mainly for confirmation, he reached down and flicked his thumb over your clit, watching you squirm as he slid a finger into you, pumping only a few times before adding a second and a third. Maybe he was rushing, but you didn’t care. You were beyond prepared and ready for him to claim your core.  He moved to bite your bottom lip as he lined up, sliding into your core with little to no warning or wait, hips pressed against yours in a fluid motion as he felt the warmth of your core around him.  

Grunting, you drug your nails down his back, encouraging him to start fucking you already. Laughing with a smirk, Jamie started to rock his hips, wasting no time to get to any sort of pace.  You grunted, pulling at him to roll harder, the sound of flesh against flesh punctuating every move as he leaned down to bite at your throat, rolling and rocking into you. He pressed into your deepest pleasure zone, grazing with every thrust. His thumb dropped to rub at your clit as well, him intent on getting you to the best orgasm he could give you of the night.  

“Jamie!” You grunted, body arching up to meet him with every thrust. 

He growled into your throat, picking up speed as he rolled his hips, biting at your collarbone and neck as he was intent on giving you a thrill. With a flourish, he pushed your leg up to his shoulder, changing his angle so that he drove into your core, grazing your clit with every thrust.  

Whimpering, you clawed down his back, hissing in pleasure as you felt the golden tide growing within your belly. Jamie always knew just what you needed to set you off the edge. It never was a worry about him cumming first, he was a generous lover, and while he truly wanted to get you off right now, it wasn’t always rushed, it wasn’t always down and dirty. But for now? He wanted you to scream his name. 

Which was exactly what he whispered into your ear as he nipped at your ear lobe, grunting your name. “Babe.”

You rolled up to meet his every thrust, so close that you didn’t want to admit it. Jamie knew just what to do to bring you here, and you were there, body filled with pleasure as you panted, biting at his shoulder as he flicked your clit with authority. 

“Cuming!” You hissed to him, feeling your body release as you tensed and quivered beneath him, eyes fluttering shut in pure pleasure.  

You felt the colors and shapes dance behind your lids as Jamie continued to thrust into you with intense purpose, his own climax coming as you felt him throb and still within you, channel clenching around him as he rolled through, before lazily leaning down onto you. 

With sweat glistening your body, hearts racing, you pulled Jamie down towards you, kissing his throat, neck, and cheek as he rested against you, body heavy. Carefully you wiggled so you could wrap your legs around him, keeping him deeply seated as you sighed in pleasure. “Fuck I love that advent calendar.”

Jamie laughed, kissing your cheek. “Yea, but I love you more.”

You just laughed, sighing in pleasure. “Merry Christmas, Baby.” 

#imagine #jamie oleksiak #romanseggy #hockeynetwork #hockey network #the winter gift exchange #hockey #jamie oleksiak imagine #hockey rpf

[laurenairay]

Take a Chance - D. Hamilton

Word Count: 12.7k

Summary: Ashley Miller is a Sunday-morning regular at her local coffee shop. Dougie Hamilton is the associate art curator who catches her eye.

Warnings: coffee shop au, some bad language, a lot of cute fluff, anxiety

A/N: This is my @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange fic for @huttons​! I had a lot of fun researching & creating this fic gift, and I tried to incorporate all of the preferences you stated and that we discussed. This is very self-indulgent too, definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, and I’m not going to go into the very niche research rabbit holes I fell down! Bringing this OC to life made me so happy, and I had a blast incorporating the coffee shop au element. I hope you enjoy this! 💚

Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​, @texanstarslove​ and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ because they all listened to me stress while writing hah.

*

“Large latte for Ashley!”

Ashley Miller looked up from her laptop, smiling at her favourite barista at the counter. She got up from her table, leaving her laptop and scone briefly as she collected her drink, before heading back to her seat. Sunday mornings were the same every week – arrive at Storm Surge coffee shop when they opened at 7am, park herself at a table in the back corner, and consume a steady flow of coffee as she worked. Sure, her work might vary – teaching Medieval History at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill meant her lesson topics were all over the spectrum – but she just found that everything from writing notes for her classes that week to marking essays at the end of the semester became easier if she had the thrum of the coffee shop around her.

That, and she knew she’d just spend her entire weekend burrowed in her house if she didn’t get out.

Having moved to Raleigh 6 years ago to undertake her PhD, Ashley had accepted a teaching job at the very same university she’d studied at when she’d completed her studies a year ago, and she hadn’t looked back since. There was just something about Raleigh that she had fallen in love with, only a 30 minute drive away from her workplace, something that had spoken to her very soul, and actually being able to pass on knowledge about the subject that she was so passionate about made her so incredibly happy. Sure, her parents had never understood her love for 11th to 13th century European history (nor anyone else from her small town in South Dakota) but Ashley had never cared about that – New York had given her the opportunity to grow as a person during her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees, but Raleigh had given her the opportunity to thrive.

And she would forever be grateful for that.

Sundays though…Sundays were something she cherished. This independent coffee shop had been a blessing when she’d found it early on in her PhD research, and they had never complained about her taking up a table for essentially the whole day (and she did pay for each of the many coffees she consumed). Baristas and bakers had come and gone over the past 6 years, but there were a couple that had stuck around recently - and a year ago when she officially became ‘Dr Ashley Miller’, her favourite barista Andrei had even given her a piece of chocolate cake on the house to celebrate. Storm Surge coffee shop was a home away from home.

Of course, there was another reason that Sunday coffee shop time was one of her favourite things in her week…

Tall Cute Guy.

He was a regular every Sunday morning, and had been for the past year - three Sundays a month he would order a mocha and an americano to go, but one Sunday a month he would come in an hour earlier and order just an americano, and drink it in the shop instead while reading an old paperback book. Every single time, like clockwork.

Okay, yes, that sounded a little stalkerish. But he was so cute. Ashley pretty much always had her earphones in playing music so she had never caught his name, but his blonde curls, pretty blue eyes and warm smile had caught her eye straight away. And he was so tall, she couldn’t have missed him if she’d tried. She’d never spoken to him, never even said hi in passing, but occasionally she would link eyes with him and he would smile at her. And that smile was enough to send her heart fluttering. Ridiculous really, but it brought her a little joy.

What was the harm in smiling back at a cute guy every now and again, right?

*

Dougie Hamilton walked into the North Carolina Museum of Art with a smile on his face. To be honest, it could’ve been for a multitude of reasons. His career was finally heading upwards, having moved museums to become Associate Curator of European Art a couple of years ago, and he loved his work. He had recently renovated his kitchen, which was now looking pretty sleek and awesome, if he did say so himself. His colleagues had genuinely become some of his closest friends, and he had a standing monthly poker night with several of them. But his smile today wasn’t because of any of that.

No, his smile today was because it was Sunday morning, and he’d just picked up his regular coffee order for him and his boss.

Speaking of…

“So, did you finally talk to your coffee shop crush, or did you just awkwardly stare at her like a weirdo again?”

“Oh fuck off,” Dougie grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush as his boss Jordie’s words.

It was far too early for this – he’d only just walked into their shared office for fuck’s sake! Jordie just hooted laughter at his embarrassment as he took his mocha from Dougie, making Dougie groan. “One day you’re going to have to talk to her, man. It’s just getting sad now,” Jordie teased.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t we have a museum to open?” Dougie scowled.

Jordie just beamed even more, wiggling his eyebrows as he left their office. Dougie groaned again, running his hands through is unruly hair before he sighed. Coffee shop crush. Hah. Jordie wasn’t wrong though. Not really. His crush…Mystery Laptop Woman…was one of the reasons he always volunteered to pick the two of them up coffee before the museum opened up on a Sunday morning. Jordie had come along with him only once to pick up their coffee, about 6 months ago, and ever since then he hadn’t let Dougie’s shy smile at her go. Of course, Dougie barely knew anything about her – only that she was always in early on a Sunday, always completely consumed by her work, and she had such a super cute concentration face, whatever it is that she worked on. He could never quite tell – sometimes she had a book or two with her, sometimes it was a stack of papers – but he knew for sure that she appeared to mainline coffee like a pro. Probably some kind of teacher?

He’d certainly never had a teacher that beautiful, that was for sure.

Her long dark hair was always down and always a little messy, like she ran her hands through it often (which she did, he’d noticed). Her warm hazel eyes were hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses, and her lips were always coloured in varying shades of dark pink and red. He’d only seen her standing a couple of times, but he’d caught enough of a glimpse of her long legs to have some very inappropriate thoughts. She just looked so kind, so friendly…and so beautiful. Dougie had never been able to catch her name though – she’d always had a full coffee or at least half a coffee left whenever he was in the shop, so he couldn’t even find out sneakily that way. But whoever she was, whatever she did, when he occasionally got lucky enough for her to look at him, her smile made his entire body light up like a fireworks show. It was a bit pathetic really, how much just a smile from her made his entire day, but he was a year into it now and he wasn’t going to stop that for anything. He had a great career, some great friends, and a pretty great life, even if he was tragically single.

What was the harm in smiling at a beautiful woman whenever he got the chance, right?

*

“Alright, we’ve nearly run out of time now, but just one final thing I want you to think about for Monday’s love in the middle ages class,”

On cue, her students groaned, making Ashley grin.

“Hey, I’m giving you a head’s up here – I could just let you walk into our general lecture blind?” she shrugged, teasing.

That got her a few laughs at least. She’d take that.

“Okay, so we know through our focus on the Medieval Expansion of Europe that one of the biggest tales about Eleanor of Aquitaine in the latter half of the 1100s was of her role in the courts of love. What I want you all to look into is whether these courts of love have the possibility of being a real thing, or whether they feed into the chivalric notions of her contemporaries and were fabricated from the courtly love dynamics of knights and maidens. Just to give us some talking points, okay?”

Her students murmured their agreement, with most of them writing down a reminder. That would have to be good enough for her. At least this way, hopefully someone would discuss the talking points with her in class – she’d found out the hard way last year that there was nothing worse for a university professor than completely uninterested students. She needed something to feed off.

“Alright then, class dismissed. Have a great weekend everyone!”

Ashley moved to her laptop, switching off the projected powerpoint presentation as her students filed out of the classroom, but jumped in shock slightly as she noticed the head of her department sitting in the back corner. How long had he been there?! What was he doing there in the first place? She just hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt, as he walked up to the front of the room.

Rod Brind’Amour was a legend in the History department for a good reason. His knowledge of military history pre-1800s was unmatched by anyone, but it was his research on the first and second crusades that had inspired Ashley through much of her PhD. Sure, he wasn’t her direct supervisor, but their work interlinked enough that she’d spent many office hours with him debating the second crusade with fervour. For such a big man, he was such a nerd, and he’d made her feel so welcome as soon as he offered her the teaching position at the end of her PhD, with the promise that she would be able to continue her research to inspire future minds. She had been so moved by his words that she hadn’t hesitated to accept the job. How could she not, when someone of his calibre believed in her?

One year in, she wasn’t regretting it at all

“Very smart, setting up some talking points for Monday’s class. I’m so glad I volunteered you to run this year’s Love in the Middle Ages lectures. You’re much better at them than I was,” Rod mused.

Ashley snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. Oh thank god. It’s true that this seminar was one part of the large mandatory Medieval and Early Modern Studies course…but it suited her perfectly.

“That’s because my research focuses on Medieval Queens and the exchange of power they brought to their marriage countries, whereas yours is the effect of each of the crusades through military history. Bleurgh,” she snickered, “Linking today’s Medieval Expansion of Europe class with the generic Love in the Middle Ages lectures on Mondays is just easy,”

“Speak for yourself,” Rod laughed, “give me military tactics any day,”

Ashley just grinned. Some things never changed. “Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, packing up her laptop into its case.

“Just wanted to check in with you, in general,” Rod shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her desk.

Ashley couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “I’m doing okay yeah, thanks. Last year’s first semester was more of a struggle for sure, but I don’t have that transition from PhD student and TA to full teaching this time round. I’ve definitely settled in quicker – and this batch of freshman feel a lot more engaged already,”

“That’s good! It definitely shows that you’re handling things well,” Rod nodded, smiling back at her, “But I meant in your life outside of the university too,”

Ashley frowned. What? “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

Rod laughed softly at her expression. “I know last year you were trying to find your stride, but this year you’ve already got it, so I’m just checking that you’ve got things balanced outside of work too. It’s far too easy to make teaching your entire life – and I don’t want you to burn out,” Rod explained. “I value you here too much for that,”

Ashley’s heart melted a little at his concern, but she just shook his head. “I may not have much going on for me outside of work, but I do get out. I spend my Sundays in a local coffee shop,” she admitted.

Her mind briefly flashed to Tall Cute Guy, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind before she started blushing. So not appropriate for work.

Rod frowned slightly, but nodded. “At least you’re getting out of the house. Just promise me you’ll work on finding time for yourself too?”

“I promise,” Ashley nodded, “I intend to be here for a long time, so I definitely don’t want to burn out,”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Rod grinned, “I’d better get going – see you at the faculty meeting later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ashley grimaced.

Rod just laughed at her disgruntled face, lifting his hand in a wave as he left the room. As she packed the rest of her belongings, Ashley couldn’t help but to think over Rod’s words. Was she in danger of a burn-out? Surely not, so early on in her career? Maybe she did need more of a balance in her life…but how?

*

Another Sunday, another early morning. Sure, Ashley could give herself a lie in every now and again, but that would mean not being able to relax on her Sunday evening, to not have the chance to unwind and reset before the working week starts up again on Monday morning. Spending all weekend in her little 2 bed house wouldn’t do her any good, even as comforting as she’d made it.

Besides, Storm Surge coffee shop was such a part of her routine now, that it would feel wrong to not go in at her usual time. Seeing Andrei the morning barista, Marty the supervisor and Jaccob the baker (who occasionally popped his head out) always made her happy – and as Rod said only a couple of days ago, she needed to make sure she actually kept a balance in her life.

So, as always, just after 7am, Ashley walked through the coffee shop door. She’d skipped eating any breakfast this morning, intent on getting one of the shop’s amazing scones fresh out of the oven, and as soon as she spotted her favourite blueberry-lemon scones in the display, something in her chest settled. Yes, this was exactly why she came every week. This feeling of home.

“Good morning Ashley! Your usual latte?”

Ashley smiled at Andrei, nodding. “Yes please. And one of the blueberry-lemon scones!”

Andrei smiled even wider, if that was possible, and immediate set about inputting her order into the cash register. It was then that she noticed something new on Andrei’s nametag. A pink sparkly kitten sticky. Huh. That was new.

“Nice sticker,” she teased.

“Very sparkly, no? Marty gave it to me,” Andre nodded.

“Oh, Marty did huh?” Ashley grinned.

Interestingly, Andrei blushed. She knew she hadn’t been imagining things. The poor Russian guy just blushed harder, spluttering incoherently, until Ashley took pity on him. It wasn’t like she could be mean to Andrei – he was just too adorable.

“I think the sticker is really cute, Andrei. It was sweet of Marty to give it to you,” Ashley said with a fond smile.

“Thank you! I will tell Marty you like it,” Andrei beamed.

Bless him.

Andrei handed her a scone on a plate, allowing her to go to her usual table in the back corner, setting up her laptop while she waited for her coffee to be ready. She heard a door out the back open, and Andrei quickly slipped away, making her smile.

“AHHHHHHHHHH MR SVECHNIKOV!”

Marty. Ashley just giggled, shaking her head before putting her earphones in for her background music. Yeah, this coffee shop definitely felt like home.

She quickly got lost in writing her lecture notes, going off on tangents that she knew she’d have to rein in later when she edited. It was a full hour before she even looked away from her screen, only to see the shop busy and bustling, every single table full. What the hell? She looked over to see both Andrei and Marty working the counter, only confirming her suspicions that they really had gotten busy while she was lost in her thoughts. Wow. Full at 8am was a new one for sure. Maybe a convention of some kind?

And it was then that she saw Tall Cute Guy walk in. Today he was wearing a pretty blue sweater, bring out the beautiful blue in his eyes, making her smile on instinct. So cute. But then she noticed him being given just the one coffee…he was planning on drinking in, and there were no tables? No!

It made her heart clench to watch him looking around the coffee shop, becoming more and more disheartened…until he noticed her. Maybe, could she, yes. Ashley bit her bottom lip but tilted her head towards the empty chair at her table, earning the biggest smile. She actually did it. She actually offered him the chair at her table. Shit. Her heart started beating faster as he walked over, and she took her earphones out as he came to a stop next to her seat, looming over her.

“I, uh…do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked softly.

Huh. Such a gentle voice on such a big man. Yeah she could totally handle this.

“Please, go ahead,” Ashley nodding, smiling as she waved her hand to indicate, “it’s so busy in here today,”

Oh no. Was that too forward, acknowledging that they’re both regulars?

“Definitely busier than usual, eh?” he mused, “I’ll try not to disturb your work, I’ll only be here for about an hour,”

Ashley laughed, but shook her head. She was just glad he hadn’t been weirded-out by her acknowledgement. That would’ve been so awkward. Her stomach was filled with enough butterflies as it was. “You won’t disturb me, I promise. Sit as long as you like,”

He smiled widely at her, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting down, Ashley just quickly shuffling her papers out of the way for him. He nodded his thanks at her, pulling a paperback book out of his satchel. Then he cleared his throat, so she looked up at him curiously.

“I’m Dougie, by the way,” he said, almost a little shy.

Dougie. That was a nice name. Oh, wow, she finally knew his name! Ashley couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m Ashley,”

He smiled back at her. “It’s nice to meet you properly,” he said happily.

Ashley just laughed, nodding as she blushed lightly. To have him acknowledge their smiling-from-a-distance definitely sparked something inside of her. Nice to finally meet him indeed.

They sat in comfortable silence, Ashley typing up her tangent notes so far for the morning, and she couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that sat in her chest. The cute guy she’d been smiling at for a year was sitting at her table with her…and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. And he’d introduced himself!

No, cool it, keep calm Ashley. No-one got anywhere by acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Play it cool.

That promised hour flew by far too quickly. Every now and again she would glance up and find his eyes on her. Every now and again she would glance up only for him to look up and catching her looking. Every time she would blush. Every time he would send her a wonderful smile. But all too soon her table companion was standing up and putting his book in his bag.

“Um…”

Ashley looked up from her work at him, a smile naturally spreading across her face at his nervous expression. Why was he nervous?

“Yes, Dougie?” she said softly, smiling at a little more at finally getting to say his name.

Dougie. Dougie. Dougie.

“I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost hopefully.

“I’ll be here,” she nodded.

Oh god. Well that was stupid. Of course she’d be here. Why couldn’t she just act smoothly for once in her life?

But then Dougie smiled, such a happy little smile that it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Until next time then,” Dougie murmured, “Bye, Ashley,”

“Bye,” she breathed, watching him walk way.

Well, that could’ve been worse. What a Sunday.

*

Things felt different after that fateful Sunday. Dougie (she knew his name!) hadn’t sat down with her again, or even sat in the shop again yet, but now…now he always made a point of waving at her, waiting until she had waved back to smile. Those waves sent her into even more of a tizzy, a light blush always on her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but cherish them. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but he was so handsome and he noticed her. It didn’t hurt to pretend it was more than friendly acknowledgement, right? A girl could dream at least.

It was only Wednesday today, but that meant only one thing. Her weekly phone call with her mom. Knowing Susan Miller, Ashley could picture exactly what her mom was doing. Her phone would be propped up on speakerphone while she pottered around the kitchen, finishing off making dinner while also planning what desserts to bake at the weekend. Her mom led a simple life, a retired teacher herself (although she’d taught at the local elementary school rather than ever leaving town), but it was a happy life. And it was these phone calls that were the only thing that made Ashley miss home.

Nothing was the same as a hug from her mom with a slice of homemade apple pie. But those were the sacrifices she made for her love of Medieval History. They never stayed on the for more than half an hour, but it was just enough to fill Ashley’s heart, at least for a little while.

“And I swear, if he doesn’t stop leaving those nasty cigar butts on the front porch, I’m going to whoop some sense into him!”

“You’ve been saying this for over 20 years mom – I don’t think dad is going to change at this point,” Ashley mused, rolling her eyes fondly.

Her dad had been set in his ways for as long as she could remember. Nothing was going to change that, not even a little nagging from the love of his life.

“Yes, well, he could at least clean up after himself,”

Her parents really were ridiculous human beings – but they loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Even if her dad didn’t clean up his cigar butts.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t complaining about his cigar butts,” Ashley grinned. “Maybe threaten not to make that corned beef hash he likes. That might help,”

The laughter that flowed down the phone made her smile even more. Fuck she missed hearing her mom’s laugh in person.

“Oh I miss you sweetpea. Are you sure you’re okay down there by yourself?”

“Yes mom, you know I love my work and my life down here,” Ashley said, sighing softly.

Here we go again.

“I just worry about you rattling around in that old house by yourself!”

Rude. It wasn’t that old.

“I promise I’m fine!” Ashley insisted.

Her mom stayed silent, making Ashley bite her lip to stop herself getting frustrated. Her mom would come out with it eventually…

“I worry about you being lonely, that’s all. You’re such an introvert, you always have been,”

And there it was.

“How could I be lonely mom? I have great colleagues that I talk with. And I’m around students all day and I interact all the time with them! And the baristas at my coffee shop know me by name and we chat too,” Ashley listed.

“The baristas don’t count, Ash,”

Poor Andrei. He definitely counted. Ashley couldn’t help but giggle at the sigh in her mom’s voice though. “Okay maybe not, but there is a guy that I’ve talked to,”

“Ooh a guy?”

Oh no. Oh what had she done? She had to nip this in the bud now.

“No, mom, not like that, just a friendly face to wave at,” Ashley insisted.

Dougie’s shy smiles filled her mind, but she shook her head. Now was not the time.

“Oh boo, you should work on changing that,”

Hah. If only.

“You’re impossible, mom,” Ashley sighed fondly.

“I love you too darling,”

*

Today he was going to do it. Today Dougie was going to get to Storm Surge coffee shop a little early, get his americano to drink in…and hopefully sit with Ashley again. Ever since that amazing Sunday morning where she offered him a seat at her table (she offered him!), he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He could kick himself for not being able to do more than wave at her the past three Sundays, but even just the few smiles he seen in passing since have blown him away. Especially with that cute little blush she always had when she waved back at him.

But today he was coming in an hour before he had to get to work, just to have that chance to sit with her and talk with her. Was it a little desperate? Sure. But Dougie never claimed to be anything other than desperate to get to know the beautiful woman he’d only ever seen in passing until now. His schedule didn’t usually allow him the chance – every Sunday the North Carolina Museum of Art opened from 10-5, and he usually got there just after 9 with coffee for him and Jordie, but every fourth Sunday Jordie came in a little later, so Dougie took the time to sit in and read a little before heading into work…and it was the fourth Sunday today. He could only hope that all the nerves and butterflies would be worth it.

Oh fuck, what if she wasn’t even there?

No, she would be. She always was. Enough stalling.

Still…

Dougie walked into Storm Surge with a little ball of nervous anxiety in his chest, praying that Ashley wouldn’t stray from her routine, until he looked over into the back corner…and there she was. He waited until Ashley looked up at him to wave at her, earning a sweet smile and a wave back. Wow, her blush really was so sweet.

“Dougie! You must be drinking in today, yes?”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Andrei’s voice, quickly nodding. “Yeah just the usual americano, thanks,”

“You got it,” Andrei nodded, beaming at him.

Dougie quickly paid and moved to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. The shop was only half-full at this time in the morning, unlike last month, so he didn’t have the excuse of busy tables. Maybe…he could just walk up to her, right? He could take that chance, right? Yeah, he could do this.

“Here you go!” Andrei said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” Dougie murmured.

The barista gave him a strange look at his distracted tone, and Dougie knew that Andrei was watching as he walked over to Ashley’s table…but here goes nothing. He could totally do this. He was an adult. He paid his taxes on time and everything. He could definitely ask a pretty woman if he could sit with her again.

“Hey, Ashley,”

She looked up from her laptop with a bright smile, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Dougie! Hi!” she said happily.

She remembered his name! Wow. No, focus.

“Do you, um…do you mind if I sit with you again?” Dougie asked.

Oh god, why couldn’t he just sound cool for once in his life? Why did he always have to be the least smooth version of himself that he could possibly be?

Ashley took one look around at all the empty tables and blushed even more, before she bit her lip and nodded. “Sure, go for it,”

That was a good sign, right?

Dougie sat down with a nervous smile, putting his coffee gently on the table.

“So, um, how have you been?”

Ashley looked surprised (oh god, was she only being polite before?) before that melted into a pleased look. Okay, he could work with that.

“I’ve been pretty good thanks, yeah. I’m just revising the list of essay topics that I’m giving my students on Monday, so not too much work to do today thankfully,” she said, “How about you?”

“I’ve been alright yeah. Work has been a little nuts with the new exhibition at the museum but it’s all come together really well!” Dougie said, beaming. What? Could a man not be excited about artwork? “what do you teach?”

Ashley smiled shyly, looking a little hesitant again. Dougie couldn’t help but frown a little. Had people made her feel awkward about her work before? That wasn’t okay! “I’m a Medieval History professor at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My general focus is on the power of Medieval queens, but I teach everything from the expansion of medieval Europe to love in the middle ages, as well as on the general medieval and early modern history modules. I did my undergraduate and masters degrees at NYU, but I moved down here for the PhD opportunity. It’s now my second full year teaching and I just…I love it so much,”

A PhD?! Holy shit, that’s impressive. Wow. Just…wow. How could she be any more perfect?

“That’s incredible!” was all that Dougie could say.

“You don’t have to pretend, I know having a PhD isn’t exactly the coolest thing in the world, especially in medieval history,” Ashley mused.

Well it was definitely pretty fucking cool to him, no matter what other people had ever said to her. “I’m definitely not pretending, I promise. Medieval history is fascinating,” he insisted.

Ashley pursed her lips like she didn’t believe him, making Dougie laugh.

“I’m serious! I may not have a PhD but my masters thesis was a specialism in Rembrandt’s work. I’m a total art history nerd – 14th-17th century in particular,” Dougie explained.

Come on, let the nerdiness pay off for once…

Her face immediately lightened, her mouth forming into a surprised ‘o’, making him laugh again. At least, he hoped it was a good surprise?

“One of the classes I’ll be teaching next semester is Italian Renaissance and European History to 1650,” she murmured.

Holy shit. What a match up.

“Told you I wasn’t pretending to be interested,” Dougie grinned, “I’d definitely love to learn more about that class when you start it,”

Ashley blushed again, but her nervous smile had shifted into a full beaming smile, and his heart could only just about take it. Then she froze slightly, blinking, as if she’d forgotten something. What?

“Sorry, did you say museum earlier?” Ashley said suddenly, “like, you work at a museum?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” Dougie nodded.

He did his best not to puff out his chest in pride. He’d worked damned hard on his career and he was proud of it.

“I just…wow, I wouldn’t have expected it,”

Dougie laughed, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish smile.

“A guy who looks like you, like such an athlete’s build…oh god, sorry, that’s so rude of me,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

But Dougie just laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, it’s far from the first time I’ve heard that,”

And never with such appreciation of his body either…

Look, he knew how the world perceived him on first glance. Tall, muscled guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, probably an all-american jock right? How he loved proving them wrong.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ashley winced, “so I’m sorry,”

“Apology accepted,” Dougie mused, “I love my work, so it’s fun surprising people. Especially people with similar interests,”

Ashley bit her lip again but nodded and smiled, tilting her head to show she was listening. Wow, he could definitely get used to her looking at him with this much interest.

“Like I said, I’m an associate curator at the North Carolina Museum of Art. I’m actually Canadian, but I finished my masters degree in Boston and went straight into working at the MFA, but after working on a brief project in Calgary, I realised I wanted to work more in my specialist interests, y’know? So I applied for a role at the Museum of Art here, and became the associate curator of European Art. It’s…it’s everything I could’ve wished for, when I was studying,”

Dougie took a sip of his coffee while Ashley processed that flood of information, hoping he hadn’t come across too strong. People really did tend to zone out when he talked about his work…but hopefully because she also had an interest in European history and art, she wouldn’t be put off?

“I can definitely relate to following and achieving my passions for a niche subject,” Ashley grinned, “and I love that you love it so much. It’s rare, to find someone who gets such genuine joy out of their work. Even though work can sometimes be super stressful,”

“Stressful, but worth it. Especially when a new exhibition comes together so well,” Dougie agreed.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dougie licked his bottom lip, trying not to look too nervous. This exhibition is such a big deal, and it had been such a lot of work. He could get a little excited about it now, right?

“Yeah, I’ve been working solidly for the past few months on the new exhibition – it’s opening next weekend. It’s a collection of Italian Renaissance Art,” Dougie said, a little hesitant.

Hesitant…because maybe that was a bit flashy? Did it sound like he was bragging? He really hoped not – not just because he was so proud of his work but he genuinely did want to excite Ashley…

“Oh no way! Really?” Ashley gasped.

Dougie bit his lips to control his grin. Oh thank fuck. Finally, someone he could actually impress with his love of art history. “Yeah, last quarter the museum acquired over 30 paintings from the 14th century from various collectors and this will be the first time they’ve all been together in the same room,”

“I bet they’ll be so beautiful all together after so long,” Ashley said, her voice a little wistful.

Wistful? He could fix that. Maybe. Yes, this was the perfect opportunity…

“Maybe we could…I know this might feel a little soon, but I’m…

Dougie trailed off with a frustrated groan, making Ashley giggle. For once, just once, let him be smooth! He took a deep breath, before trying again.

“Would you like to come to the exhibition opening with me?” he asked softly.

Ashley’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly nodded, making Dougie’s heartbeat kick up a notch. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a plus one as the associate curator, and there’s no-one else I could imagine going with. I think you’d love it,” Dougie explained, “and I’d love to show you the artwork,”

Was that too desperate?

“I’d…wow, I’d love to go with you,” Ashley said, her expression shy but pleased.

Shy but pleased. He could work with that.

“Great, it’s a date!”

Oh God. Dougie could only freeze…but then Ashley smiled. Huh, maybe not so cringey?

“A date huh? I’d love that too,” Ashley said shyly.

Oh thank fuck. Ashley just giggled at Dougie’s blush.

“Give me your number and I’ll text you the details?” Dougie suggested, trying to salvage at least a little bit of his dignity.

As Ashley took his phone from him and entered her phone number, Dougie could only sit in shocked silence. He’d done it. He’d actually asked her on a date. On a date where he could impress her with a topic they both loved so much. All he had to do now was not fuck it up.

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

*

Ashley had been in a little bit of a daze when Dougie had left for work. He’d asked her on a date. On a date! And they’d exchanged numbers, Dougie having sent her a little smiley face so she had his number in return. She was just thankful that there wasn’t much work for her to do that day – there was no way she wouldn’t been able to focus otherwise.

And then throughout the week, they’d started exchanging cute little messages. Just sweet little things, like how was your day? and look how cute this dog is and I had the loudest school tour group come through the museum today and which of these texts is going to give me the worst teacher rating? – it was all silly and sweet and fun, and Ashley couldn’t remember the last time that the potential of a relationship had excited her so much.

There was just something about Dougie that made her heart beat a little faster every time she thought of him. It was bad enough when he would smile at her in passing in Storm Surge…but now, with every little text, she felt herself smiling even more than she could’ve imagined, like a giddy little schoolgirl with a first crush.

Because at the moment, it really was just a crush. They hadn’t gone out on their first date yet – in reality, they’d only sat together twice, with one of those times essentially being the exchange of their names. They’d only had one conversation in person. And the texts were so sweet and lovely…but they were just texts. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself and get her hopes up, you know? God knows that had happened enough times.

She couldn’t help but hope that finally, she had met someone with real potential. Dougie made it easy to hope.

Ashley supposed that their first date would be the real test of whether she’d just built up all the excitement of Tall Cute Guy in that coffee shop fantasy in her head, or whether he was the real deal. Their conversation in person on Sunday had been such a good start, but fuck please make him the real deal.

Was it really that much to ask?

Finally Friday rolled around and she was finished with work for the week. Well, mostly. Ashley had just come out of a bi-monthly faculty meeting and just had to check some emails before she could go home for the weekend (and to shave her legs because she found the cutest dress for her date on Saturday) – but as she got to her office, she noticed that Rod had stopped in the doorway, waving to some of their colleagues as they strolled past. Hmm.

“So…you’re looking incredibly chipper for someone who just got out of a tedious faculty meeting,” Rod teased, leaning against her doorframe.

Ashley just laughed, rolling her eyes fondly as she sat at her desk. “I don’t know why you complain so much – you’re the one who runs them,”

“Not through choice, I promise that,” Rod mused, shaking his head, “But you are looking extra cheerful today. Just feeling a little nosy, I guess,”

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Should she tell him about her date? It’s not like Rod was a gossip…and it’s not like she had a whole host of friends to tell…

“I may or may not have a date tomorrow night,” Ashley eventually admitted.

His eyes immediately lit up. Oh God.

“Ooh a date, exciting!” Rod gasped dramatically, fanning himself like a southern belle.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Ashley giggled. That could’ve gone worse – but his excitement definitely lit up the butterflies in her stomach all over again.

Rod just laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just glad you’re giving someone a chance to sweep you off your feet,” he teased, “Who is he and where is he taking you?”

“He’s a guy I met in that coffee shop I go to on a Sunday, and he’s taking me to the new Italian Renaissance exhibition at the North Carolina Museum of Art,” she explained.

And she couldn’t wait.

“A cultured guy or a try hard?” he smirked.

“A cultured guy,” Ashley giggled, rolling her eyes, “he’s actually the associate curator who worked on setting up the exhibition,”

“Don’t we all love a man who knows his history, even if it is art,” Rod grinned, winking dramatically, earning another giggle, “Let me know how the exhibition is - I know my wife would love to go if it’s any good,”

“I’ll give you a full review on Monday,” Ashley agreed, nodding.

“And a full review of your date,” Rod grinned.

“Okay, out, out. I need to finish these emails before I leave,” Ashley laughed.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Rod mused, “If you need anything, even an escape clause tomorrow night, send me a text, okay?”

Her heart softened a little at his kind gesture, and she found herself nodding. “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you, I appreciate it,”

“Any time,” Rod nodded.

Ashley bit her bottom lip to hide her grin as he shut the door behind him on the way out, and the butterflies in her stomach were still there. Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*

Tonight was the night. Ashley only had a few minutes left before her uber arrived to pick her up to take her to the museum, and she couldn’t resist having a final glance in the mirror by her front door. She’d had a little panic over what the hell the dress code would be for a gallery opening, but after Dougie confirmed it wasn’t black tie, just formal dress, Ashley had consulted with some of her college friends (who were buzzing about the fact that she was actually going on a date), and decided that a midi cocktail dress was the way to go.

And she’d found the perfect one.

The dress she’d picked out in a local boutique was a beautiful forest green colour, complimenting her dark hair and hazel eyes perfectly. It fell to the middle of her shins, as her friends had recommended, and had thick shoulders straps, no sleeves but a neckline with a deep enough v that it should a little cleavage (classy cleavage of course, very sophisticated in her opinion). Her favourite part though was the Marilyn Monroe-esque twirl to the skirt – something she’d tested out several times already – and she just felt glamorous in it. She’d straightened her usually-messy hair and put on a little make-up too, to match the effort she was making with the dress. To be honest, Ashley felt beautiful, and she honestly couldn’t wait to see Dougie’s reaction. It was a hell of a lot different to her usual Sunday Storm Surge outfits, that’s for sure.

Soon enough, her uber was pulling up outside of the Museum of Art, and she thanked the driver as she got out. Thankfully, Dougie was already waiting at the top of the steps for her, and the smile that he sent her way made her breath catch in her throat. Ashley took the time to check him out as she walked up towards him, and she felt those butterflies start up again. He was wearing a gorgeous navy blue suit with a white shirt and grey tie, bringing out the colour of his eyes beautifully, and the stunned expression on his face as he looked at her made her blush a little. That was a good reaction, right?

“Wow. You look…amazing,” Dougie murmured, looking her up and down with awe.

Definitely a good reaction.

“You look really good too,” she grinned.

Dougie grinned back at her, before offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

Ashley fought not to squeal as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. What a smooth move. “Lead the way,”

Dougie walked her inside, picking up a glass of champagne each after they dropped their jackets off. Then they were off. The two of them wandered around through the exhibition, Dougie guiding her and giving her the most indepth information she could’ve possibly hoped for. She’d never had such a personal tour like this, and he was so shy yet so knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but to drink up every word. This was what she had hoped for out of tonight, that passion coming through Dougie, and she was receiving it tenfold.

“This one is one of my favourites. Batoni’s The Triumph of Venice. There’s just so much going on, and I swear I notice something different every time I look at it,”

Ashley looked at the painting, taking in the many figures, the details, the colours, and couldn’t help but smile. It truly was a masterpiece.

“Oil on canvas? Maybe…early 1700s?” she guessed.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Dougie breathed.

He immediately flushed bright red, making Ashley giggle. Good to know that her vague art history knowledge was paying off. And that she could make him react like that…

“I love all the finessed detail in this one. Especially on the carriage – it’s exquisite,” Ashley murmured, looking back at it.

“Isn’t it?” Dougie grinned.

Ashley squeezed his arm gently, smiling up at him, earning a happy smile back. He was so clearly in his element, and she was loving every second. The way his entire face lit up when he talked about art…there was something just so beautiful in that. Those beautiful blue eyes were even more alive than ever, that spark of passion adding such a gorgeous element, and she really wanted to see more of it. That was a good sign, right? That she was already imagining more.

They moved on to the next painting, and Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. Wow.

“And this…this is the star of the collection. Giotto’s Peruzzi Altarpiece, the only complete altarpiece by the artist outside of Italy,”

Her jaw dropped a little. That was a big deal. “The only one?”

“The only one,” Dougie nodded.

“Holy shit,” Ashley mumbled, eyes wide.

Dougie grinned at her. “My sentiments exactly,”

“All of that gold. So much gold. And the details in their faces. Holy shit,” Ashley murmured.

“One of my favourite frescos, and I get to see it every day,” Dougie sighed happily.

“Well count me as jealous,” Ashley teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

Dougie just smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was just so cute.

“Would you, um…would you like a new drink?”

“Sure, another couldn’t hurt,” she nodded.

It’s not like she drank champagne that often after all. And it was a special occasion…

They stayed in the museum for another hour, looking over some of the art again as well as mingling with Dougie’s colleagues (including a mostly silent guy Dougie introduced as ‘Foegs’, who gave Dougie a double thumbs up when he thought she wasn’t looking, and a very enthusiastic big blonde man named Jordie, who she learned was Dougie’s boss – which, wow). Their conversation just flowed, and the doubts that she’d had earlier were easily shoved to the back of her mind.

She’d never thought it would feel so natural spending the evening arm-in-arm with a guy, but Dougie had just blown her away.

All too soon, it was time to leave the museum though, and while Dougie got their jackets, Ashley opened her phone to request an uber. 5 minutes away. Perfect.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Dougie murmured, when they were waiting outside.

His own uber was only a couple of minutes behind hers.

“Me too,” Ashley admitted, smiling up at him, “Thank you for inviting me,”

“There’s no-one else I would’ve wanted to take. I just glad you enjoyed it,” Dougie smiled back.

“I enjoyed spending time with you. The exhibition was just a bonus,” she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes.

Holy shit she just flirted. Blatantly flirted. Too much?

But then Dougie blushed a little, before a small smirk spread across his lips. “Yeah?”

Ashley just bit her lip, nodding. Dougie’s blue eyes flashed a little darker, sending a hot jolt running through her body. Oh wow. Just like that huh. But then her phone buzzed, the uber car pulling up to the curb, breaking her out of her thoughts just before they started to spiral.

Calm down Ashley, it’s only the first date!

She waved at the uber driver to signal that she’d seen him before turning back to Dougie. “See you tomorrow?” Ashley asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be starting work a little later on the one off, as it was the exhibition opening tonight,” Dougie nodded, “I’ll be there,”

Ashley grinned at him, before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek, laughing softly as his jaw dropped.

“Bye, Dougie,” she said softly, walking over to the car.

“Bye,” she heard him murmur, just as she closed the door.

“Hot date?” the uber driver teased.

“The hottest,” she grinned back.

That earned her a laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the driver pulled away from the curb. Ashley glanced out of the window, only to see that Dougie hadn’t moved at all – other than his fingers brushing over where she’d kissed his cheek, a hopeless smile on his face.

What a first date indeed.

*

To: Ashley

From: Rod

So how did the date go?

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

The exhibition was incredible. You need to take your wife, for real.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

I actually meant the guy but sure…

~

To: Rod

From: Ashley

He was a perfect gentleman and…amazing.

You’ll get your full gossip on Monday.

~

To: Ashley

From: Rod

Boo fine.

I’m glad you had a good time though!

See you on Monday

*

 “I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

“I had a really great time tonight,”

“Me too,”

Wasn’t the saying that if things seemed too good to be true, then they probably were not?

Ashley had gone to bed feeling over the moon, elated, bubbling with excitement. But when she’d woken up, it was like a dark cloud had settled over her, a heavy rock of anxiety sitting on her chest. Everything had gone so well last night. So well. Too well? This wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten her hopes up only to have things fall apart around her – and her hopes had skyrocketed last night. All she felt was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it made her feel sick.

That niggling negativity had swum around her brain over and over again, and she hadn’t been able to shut it off – not when she showered, not when she got dressed, and not when she sat on the sofa debating whether or not to actually turn up at the coffee shop.

Was this really what things had come down to? Tempted to break her solid routine, the exact routine she’d had every week, just because a guy made her nervous? Was he really that important? Was she really that much of a coward?

She sat on the sofa so long that she passed the time she would normally leave. Hell, she passed the time she would normally be sitting down at her usual table. Oh god she couldn’t take this. It was too much. Her legs bounced nervously as she pulled up the message thread she had with him, typing out a message to cancel…

…and then she deleted it.

Fuck that shit. No matter how anxious this whole dating thing made her feel, nothing was worth this. She couldn’t just not show up, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t her. Fuck this. As quickly as she could, Ashley grabbed her laptop and her handbag, driving as fast as she could to Storm Surge.

When she parked her car, she noticed that she had a few texts from Dougie. Oh god.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m coming a little earlier than usual today!

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you running late?

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Are you coming?

~

Oh god. Ashley winced, practically running to the shop, immediately spotting Dougie at her usual table in the back. The sheer relief on his face made her wince again. Fuck. His expression dimmed at little, but she quickly ordered her usual latte from Andrei, who looked an interesting mix of confused and concerned, but she headed over to Dougie without hesitating.

“Hey, um, sorry I’m late,” she murmured, setting her coffee and her laptop down on the table.

Dougie frowned at her briefly, clearly taking in whatever the hell her face was showing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

Ashley bit her bottom lip, hesitating. Might as well tell him the truth, right?

“I, uh, I was second-guessing everything?”

“Second-guessing?” Dougie asked, frowning harder.

Ashley just sighed. “Yeah, um, it’s dumb. I just…it all seems too good to be true? I woke up feeling like I’d gotten my hopes up and…fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel stupid now,”

Looking up at Dougie’s sad face immediately made her regret telling the truth, but it was too late now. Fuck. Why did she have to ruin everything? The fact that he was staying silent just made everything worse. Should she just go?

“What do you want to do now then?” Dougie eventually asked “or do you not know?”

Ashley swallowed heavily, looking down at her hands briefly. Hah. The million dollar question. “I know that I like you?” she offered.

Dougie huffed a laugh. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to get mad if you don’t want to go on another date,” Dougie said with a sad smile.

Oh god that was worse. He should never sound that disheartened – it wasn’t right. And it was all her fault.

“Would you even want to go on a date with me again when I’m this much of an anxious mess?” Ashley sighed.

After last night, this really wasn’t where she’d seen her day going. Self-sabotage was a bitch. But it was her own damn fault. It always was. But then Dougie reached his hand forward, fingers brushing over hers lightly to get her attention, making her blush as he smiled a bit more genuinely.

“Yeah, I would like to,” he nodded, “I had a really great time yesterday night, and I still want more,”

Oh, so maybe she hadn’t ruined everything then. What? Well shit, she was grabbing this second chance with both hands.

“I had a great time too,” Ashley admitted, blushing a little bit more, “even with this stupid anxiety,”

“Good. That’s…that’s really good,” Dougie laughed, “well, not the anxiety part, but I’m going to prove to you that this isn’t just getting your hopes up,”

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

Dougie smiled at her, a truly genuine happiness, making her breath catch in her throat. Fuck she didn’t deserve this. But there was no way she was going to let herself ruin this, not now.

“Maybe we could just talk for a couple of hours before I have to go into work? Have some coffee, a couple of those delicious blueberry-lemon scones, and just see where things go?” Dougie suggested.

Ashley nodded, the tight ball in her chest immediately loosening. God, he was such a nice guy. “I’d definitely like to get to know you more,” she agreed.

“Scones are on me then,” Dougie grinned.

Hope. A second chance. Bring it on.

*

When Dougie eventually walked into work, his shared office had more people in it that he cared for. Well, okay, that was a little mean. But right now was not the best time for the combination of Jordie and Foegs as well as Sebastian and Teuvo, especially not when all four of them had met Ashley last night. Not when they were all so intense. Not while things were still so tentative.

“So, how did it go?” Jordie asked excitedly, “it looked like the two of you were having fun!”

And here we go.

“Well last night, at the exhibition, went really well, but…”

Jordie and Foegs frowned as he trailed off, Sebastian and Teuvo just looked confused. Dougie sighed and sat down heavily at his desk.

“She was really hesitant this morning. Like, so full of anxiety that she almost didn’t show up for coffee,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What do you mean?” Jordie asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“She thinks it’s too good to be true?” Dougie winced.

Foegs looked a little stunned, Jordie’s jaw dropping. But then Sebastian jumped to his feet from where he was sitting on Jordie’s desk.

“Well then you’ll just have to sweep her off her feet!” Sebastian said firmly.

Really? Dougie sent him an unimpressed look, but Sebastian’s pout stayed serious as Teuvo giggled.

“As much as I hate to say it, Sepe has a point,” Foegs shrugged, making Sebastian stick out his tongue at him, “the two of you looked like you’d really hit it off when we were all talking, and the fact that Ashley did meet you this morning means a little anxiety shouldn’t stand in the way,”

“Take her on another date. Wine and dine, man. It’s a classic for a reason,” Jordie added, nodding seriously.

Well shit, if Jordie was being serious then maybe it would work.

“Thanks guys,” Dougie murmured, smiling softly.

“Anything to land you the woman of your many dreams,” Jordie beamed.

Dougie just blushed. Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows, Teuvo just punching him on the arm. It was almost a nice moment.

He waited until Foegs, Sebastian and Teuvo had left to start working before he pulled his phone out, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to say.

~

To: Ashley

From: Dougie

Hey, I’m glad I saw you today.

I hope you’re still doing okay.

How do you feel about getting dinner with me?

~

Dougie jiggled his leg nervously as he logged into his computer, waiting with baited breath for any reply.

And then eventually, his phone buzzed. Ashley. Thank god.

~

To: Dougie

From: Ashley

I’m alright thanks. That scone definitely helped ;)

I would love to get dinner with you.

~

Dougie couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Good. This was good. They exchanged a few more messages, eventually figuring out that because of his next few late nights with the exhibition and her essays she had to mark, neither of them were really free until next Saturday. A whole week away again. Fuck. No, this was going to work. Dougie knew it was worth it – and if she needed him to text a lot over the next few days to remind her that he was all in, that he wasn’t just going to disappoint her like those other guys, then he absolutely would.

Wine and dine next Saturday. He could absolutely do this.

“Hey, what was the name of that place you took your wife out for date night a couple of weeks back?” Dougie asked, looking up at his boss.

Jordie’s face lit up. “Oh man, it was so good…”

*

As Dougie promised himself, they kept texting throughout the week. He told her fun stories from visitors to the exhibition. She told him silly comments her students made that she couldn’t respond to without laughing in class. He told her all about his time in Boston. She told him all about her time in New York. He sent her a picture of the cutest trio of dogs his neighbours adopted. She sent him a picture of a sunset that took her breath away. Things were…good. He was just glad that Ashley seemed as enthusiastic as she was before their first date.

All he could hope was that he was proving to her that he was different. That he was serious about giving their budding relationship a shot. He hadn’t bonded with someone as quickly as this, as deeply as this, ever – so he wanted to see where it went. The unknown with Ashley genuinely excited him, and he wanted her to feel the same excitement.

He could only try to be good enough to deserve her.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Dougie was a nervous wreck. He’d left work exactly on time for once, Jordie giving him a thump on the shoulder and Foegs a thumbs up (he mostly ignored Sebastian and Teuvo’s shimmies), racing home to change into a nice sweater and his favourite pair of smart jeans. Casual but like he cared about making an impression. That was what he was aiming for.

And then Ashley arrived 10 minutes early, just after he’d arrived himself, looking nervous but happy in the prettiest baby blue tea-dress he’d ever seen, with her hair curled and wearing a pretty pink lipstick. Wow.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted.

Oh god. Mr Smooth, again.

Ashley just blushed, smiling up at him. “Thank you. I love your sweater,”

Dougie blushed in return. What a pair they made.

“After you,” he said, opening the restaurant door for her.

As much as her anxiety had worried him, he was so glad he didn’t give up – she was absolutely worth it. They were lead to their table, Dougie being a bit extra and pulling out Ashley’s chair for her, but the giggle he got in return was what he was aiming for. Wine and dine. Sweep her off her feet. That’s all that he wanted to do, and if it was working then he wasn’t going to stop now.

“I was thinking we could split a bottle of wine tonight, if you want?” Dougie offered.

“Yeah that sounds good to me,” Ashley nodded, “Maybe a white wine?”

That was more than okay with him. Red wine made him a little…over the top? He definitely talked too much when he had red wine, he knew that much, and he wanted to save at least a little dignity tonight. Hopefully, at least.

The wine was ordered, and by the time they each had a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, Ashley looked as relaxed as Dougie felt. He could only hope the rest of this night turned out the same way.

“So did I tell you what one of Rod’s students said to him yesterday?”

Dougie grinned, shaking his head. “No you didn’t!”

Ashley grinned back. “Well…”

They talked for hours, sharing stories about their jobs, their interests, their families, not stopping when any of their three courses came, not hesitating even once. Nothing was awkward in the slightest – their conversation just flowed like they’d known each other for years, and Dougie’s heart was just so happy. This was everything he’d wanted for so long, someone he could truly been 100% himself with, and he couldn’t believe that she seemed as into him as he was into her.

How was this possible, after only two dates?

Time flew by so fast, too fast, and they did eventually have to leave their table, even as much as Dougie didn’t want the night to end. He just felt utterly consumed by her, completely and utterly lost in her very being, and he didn’t want this feeling to stop for anything.

It probably didn’t help that they’d split three bottles of wine though.

It wasn’t enough to make either of them sloppy drunk, not with the delicious food they’d eaten, but Ashley was definitely a bit more giggly than usual, and he was definitely smiling like an idiot.

“I wish your uber wasn’t on its way,” Dougie sighed, when they were outside.

“I’m actually not a far walk from here, so I was just going to walk home?”

At this time of night? Absolutely not! Ashley saw the look of indignation of his face and burst into laughter, making him blush (again). What? He wasn’t wrong for being worried about her getting home safely.

“You could always walk me home?” she suggested.

Oh. Oh. Oh yeah okay, he could do that.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dougie nodded quickly.

Dougie’s heart started beating a little faster as she looped her arm through his, and it was all he could do not to smile at her too helplessly. How did she manage to affect him like this? He’d never fallen so head over heels so quickly. And she seemed completely oblivious to how gone he was for her – in the most innocent of ways.

They walked slowly, leaning on each perhaps a little more than they would without the wine, but it just meant that they had more time for talking. Dougie was blissfully happy to let Ashley rant about the indignity of the black myth surrounding Eleanor of Aquitaine, taking in everything that she was trying to teach him. He loved how much she loved her medieval history, just like he loved his art. It was quirky and different and so unique to her. And honestly, he could picture them doing this together for years, discussing their passions and their love for their careers and…

“Okay this is me,” Ashley announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Dougie looked up at the old two-storey home with a smile. So this was her home. Pretty.

“That wasn’t so bad a walk,” Dougie grinned.

“I feel bad now though, making you get further away for your own journey,” Ashley frowned.

But Dougie shook his head. “It’s fine really. I’m sure there are plenty of ubers still running around here,”

“Well…”

Ashley trailed off, biting her lip, making Dougie smile. What was on her mind?

“You can stay, if you want?” Ashley said, a shy smile on her face.

Oh fuck. Stay? Ashley saw the shock on his face, before she blushed furiously, quickly shaking her head.

“I have a spare bedroom! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Dougie couldn’t help but laugh, tugging her hands away gently. Not that he was opposed to…sharing a bed with her, but that wasn’t the vibe of tonight. Tonight was for building them up, getting them to a more comfortable level. And fuck did it feel good tonight.

Waking up to see her first thing in the morning would only be icing on the cake.

“I would love to stay, as long as you don’t mind,” he said softly, brushing his hand against hers.

Ashley inhaled sharply but nodded, wordlessly reaching in her handbag for her keys. They stayed silent as they walked into the house, Dougie barely moving a foot away from her as she showed him the kitchen, the bathroom and then the spare bedroom. He could do a proper tour in the morning, he knew that. He was just a little stunned that he was even still with her, to be honest.

“So here’s some basketball shorts that my cousin left last time he visited. I don’t have a shirt big enough for you though,” she apologised, handing him a soft bundle.

Dougie just shook his head, smiling. “This is more than enough. I usually sleep shirtless anyway,”

Ashley’s lips parted a little in surprise, her eyes glazing over slightly, making Dougie grin as she shook her head as if to clear it. Good to know he had that effect on her.

“There are spare toothbrushes under the sink from when I last when to the dentist’s office, so help yourself to whatever one?” she offered.

Dougie just nodded, squeezing her hand as he walked into the bathroom. He willed himself to retain at least a little bit of chill as he got changed, quickly washing his face and cleaning his teeth with one of the toothbrushes she’d offered. This was all still a little bit surreal, being honest. But he was going to seize this with both hands – this was a chance he was never going to get again if he fucked up.

Ashley couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him as they swapped places in the bathroom, and Dougie tried not to grin as he flexed his abs a little, making her blush. He could have a little fun, right? Especially since he knew the boundaries he needed to stay behind, he wasn’t dumb.

By the time he’d put his phone on charge and folded his clothes onto a chair for tomorrow, and then headed back out into the corridor, Ashley was back, dressed in a cute little pair of shorts and a giant t-shirt. Oh wow, he could definitely imagine her wearing his t-shirt to bed one day. No, not the time!

“Hey,”

Ashley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“See you in the morning?” she said hopefully.

Like fuck he was going to leave. “Bright and early,” he nodded.

But when she didn’t go anywhere, her hand moving to rest on his bare arm, Dougie couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards her. Fuck. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t push him away, and that was all he needed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked lowly.

Ashley’s lips parted in a soft gasp, but she nodded. “Yeah, please,”

Dougie raised a hand to cup her face, giving her one last out, but as she raised up on her tiptoes he didn’t hesitate any further. He leant his head down, and pressed his lips to hers softly, barely able to stop the moan that wanted to tear from his throat. Holy shit. Ashley clutched at his biceps, leaning up into the kiss even more, making Dougie’s head spin as he kissed her softly, slowly, over and over again. This was so not what he expected from tonight, or even hoped for, but fuck did it fill his body with butterflies. Holy shit, kissing her was everything. Eventually, he brushed his tongue against hers gently, before pulling away, knowing there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Wow,” she nodded, laughing softly, “That’s one hell of a goodnight,”

Dougie laughed softly too, pecking her lips in a soft kiss one last time before stepping away. She leaned against the wall, looking a little stunned, making him grin as he walked into her spare bedroom. If he didn’t walk away, he knew he would do something stupid to break them out of this perfect little sweet bubble, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not tonight.

Tonight had been perfect. 

*

Ashley woke up slowly, a little groggy, feeling like she was forgetting something. Then she heard the bathroom door opening, and everything came flooding back to her. Dougie was here. He’d stayed over after their date last night. They’d kissed. Holy shit. Holy shit. She took a deep breath to calm herself, fingers rising to her lips without a second thought, and it was all she could do to smile.

Dougie had kissed her. And it was everything.

She squealed softly into her pillow, feeling stupidly giddy, before quickly picking out a cute jumper and her comfiest skinny jeans to wear. She could hear him moving in the spare bedroom, so she quickly darted into the bathroom, washing and then brushing her teeth, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the toothbrush that Dougie used resting in the holder. There was just something about it that felt right.

She took a deep breath, running her hands down her sweater to smooth it, before she headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. It didn’t take long for Dougie to join her, and he accepted the glass of juice that she passed him with a smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” she said softly back.

Dougie seemed to hesitate slightly, before his face became determined. She didn’t have time to ask him what was wrong before he leant down and pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Ashley whimpered softly into his mouth, earning a soft noise back, and it was all she could do to clutch at his sweater. Holy shit. This was just as incredible and sweet as she remembered from last night. Wow. Dougie cupped her face with his free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he slowed the kiss down to a few gentle pecks, before he pulled away with a smile. Ashley just smiled back up at him, a little overwhelmed in the best way. Wow.

“Coffee shop?” he said.

“Yeah, if that’s alright,” she nodded.

He understood her routines. And he didn’t care that she wanted to stick to them. How could she not appreciate that?

Dougie just nodded in response, smiling as he sat down at her kitchen table, taking a sip of the juice she’d given him. “I wouldn’t mind changing out of last night’s clothes though. Not really my vibe,” he teased.

Ashley giggled, understanding perfectly. It wasn’t her vibe either.

“I could drive you over to yours, to get a change of clothes, and then we could head to Storm Surge together?” she suggested.

“Yeah? You want to walk in together like that?” Dougie asked, a little hopeful.

Holy shit, that would be one hell of a declaration. But…

“Yeah, I want that,” she nodded.

The grin that spread across Dougie’s face made the butterflies in her stomach worth it.

“Let me just put on some mascara and lipstick, and we can go?”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Dougie smiled.

Now that was a dangerous thought.

All too soon, Ashley was parked down the street from the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, Dougie sending her an encouraging smile, before she steeled herself and got out of the car. This was nervewracking. Storm Surge was her home away from home, her safe space, her comfort, and now she was completely changing the status quo. But as Dougie walked to her side, smiling down at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew it was worth it. He was worth it.

“Ready?” Dougie asked, holding out his hand.

Holy shit. Bring it on.

Ashley smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers, embracing the butterflies that came with the warmth of his grasp. They walked to the coffee shop together, Dougie squeezing her hand gently as she opened the door and walked through.

“Ashley! And…Dougie?”

Andrei’s gasp made her blush, Dougie just laughing. Then Andrei’s face broke into a huge grin, and he spun around.

“Marty! It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Andrei yelled into the back of the shop.

What the hell?

A door slammed open in the back, and then Marty came barrelling out. He took one look at them holding hands before punching his fist in the air.

“LET’S GOOOO!”

Ashley flinched at Marty’s loud voice, but couldn’t help but giggle when he bounded over to Andrei, swinging an arm over his shoulders.

“Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been rooting for you two?” Marty beamed.

Oh god. Ashley blushed furiously, as did Dougie, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Was I that obvious?” Ashley asked shyly.

“Both of you were. It was so frustrating but so sweet,” Marty shrugged, Andrei nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “We just hoped you guys would take a chance,”

Take a chance. Hah. That’s definitely a good way to describe it. And he was so worth taking a chance on. Dougie smiled fondly down at her, before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Well I’d say our second date went pretty well,” Dougie said softly, squeezing her hand.

Ashley smiled back, nudging him with her shoulder, earning coos from Marty and Andrei.

“Okay, you two are giving me cavities,” Marty said cheerfully, not even slightly annoyed, “Coffee and anything you want to eat, on the house. I need to tell Slavs – he’s going to be thrilled!”

Ashley just giggled, leaning into Dougie’s body as she looked over the cakes and pastries on display. Being with Dougie, this fledgling relationship, was scary – but it was also so exciting. She couldn’t wait to see what happened next. This was the start of something amazing, she just knew it.

#my writing #winter gift exchange #hockeynetwork #dougie hamilton #dougie hamilton fic #coffee shop au #yes i do have a medieval history masters how can you tell? #mildly self indulgent and super fluffy & cute #the research holes i fell down were unbelievable - and yes all the courses and all the job titles are all real things #dougie hamilton x oc #dougie hamilton imagine #dougie hamilton fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

[jxmieoleksiaks]

Tell me you love me. T. Seguin

This is for @hockeynetwork​ ‘s winter gift exchange. 

Word count: 2.4K

I was given the amazing @danglesnipecelly​ and..let me tell you. Nothing I’m going to write is going to be like hers. She is an amazing talent, and her fics, are pretty freaking amazing. I re did this about 4 times, changing players in between, and trying to go with themes you liked. I really hope this is okay for you, and from one K to another, I hope this is something you’ll enjoy

💚 🐧

It was a warmer than normal December Saturday night. You had the windows open, and wanted to get out in the fresh air. Your boyfriend was still dealing with an injury, but he was moving better than he was, even if you guys drove around the neighborhood, and grabbed some ice cream it would have been a good date. That sounded nice, but Tyler was once again on his new PS5, playing Call Of Duty with the guys.

You didn’t mind that he was playing, he wasn’t that much of a gamer until an entertainment store in Canada sent him and other players the PS5. Now he was playing all the time. It took his mind off the injury, and everything surrounding it, but he didn’t pay that much attention to you anymore, and it wasn’t due to the game.

After the terrible loss of Tampa Bay, you stayed with him in bed for days. He wasn’t the type to mope about a big loss, but being so close, and wanting to win it for the city that he called home, the city that made him feel beloved, and the city where you resided, hurt more than you could have ever imagined. A month and a half later, he went to New York for his hip surgery, and with the help of you and his mom, you both were nursing him back to health.

Now, a couple weeks until the season was to start again, he was down that he couldn’t join the team just yet. Him and Ben were in the same boat about having a recovery until April, but the fact he wasn’t ever out this long, stung for him too.

You were more than understanding, you knew that was a lot for one person to go through in the last 5 months, but you felt more like a caregiver, or just a helper instead of his girlfriend.

“Are you gonna tell daddy I want some attention?” You asked Cash, who was laying on the couch next to you as you flipped through the channels, not in the mood to watch College Football. You sighed to yourself, feeling kind of dumb that you wanted attention, but even the cuddling at night felt different. Were you not doing it for him anymore?

You got off the couch, Cash not moving from his spot, and you headed upstairs, passing the entertainment room before heading to the bedroom.

“Need anything?” You asked, being too nice for your damn good.

There was no response, all you could hear was him trash talking Stephen.

You walked into the bedroom and slammed the door, before crawling into the king size bed, covers up to your face.You were running out of options, of getting him to listen to you. You had called your Mom asking for advice, and well, she didn’t know either, she told you to be patient, as he’s too good of a guy to do something like that. You had watched him grow mature in the last couple years, especially being shit on by the powers that be of the team, you knew he could prove everyone wrong, and just hoped that you would also be proved wrong.

The sound of hobbling footsteps were coming down the hall, closer to the bedroom. You wanted to act like you were asleep, but it was only 4:30 in the afternoon. Sure, you were tired, but it wasn’t the type of tired that sleep would fix.

“Baby? What’s up?” Tyler asked, adjusting the snapback on his head, his gaze focusing on you under the blankets in the bed.

“Like you would know.” You lashed out. It didn’t mean to come out that way, but there was no way you could hide how you were feeling.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” He asked, sounding confused.

“Shouldn’t you be going back to the game? I’m sure they’re doing more than I am for you.”

Tyler stood still, his head cocking to the side.

“Is it because I’m on the game?” He questioned, never thinking you were the type that would get annoyed with the game.

“I mean, that doesn’t help, but I get it, not much else to do, but…” You said, pulling the covers off of you and sitting up on the bed, him still in the same position.

“Then what is it? Talk to me.” He went to sit on the bed.

“I’ve been trying to! You won’t listen to me!” You sounded almost desperate, but things had to be said. “I know that since you came home, thing’s have sucked and have been tough, I’m understanding of that, but you don’t look at me the way you used to…” You felt defeated.

“What?” Tyler spoke, not sounding rude, but more confused than anything.

“I’ve taken care of you since coming home, mentally and physically, and now all I feel like is a caretaker, like..I’ve been hired to make sure you’re okay. When we’re cuddling it feels different, I know we haven’t had a date night since before you went, and it makes sense, but not even something to show that I still mean a lot to you.”

“Seriously…what’s going on…” He said, his tone was more annoyed.

“Do you not love me anymore? Do you think I’m just someone to help you whoever you need it, and when you don’t you just go talk to the guys? Have you even noticed I’ve stopped caring what I’ve looked like because I can’t remember the last time you told me I was amazing, and that you loved me. I can’t remember the last fucking time you told me you loved me. We’ve had sex once since you came home from the bubble, and yeah the surgery was the big reason, but you won’t even hold me like you used to.”

“So you don’t think I love you because I haven’t fucked you?” He spat out.

“Oh my Fucking God, you don’t even listen to me.” You huffed and got out of the bed.

“You make no sense!” He yelled back.

“I said, you haven’t told me you loved me since August. You haven’t asked anything about me, how I felt, made any notations towards me since you got home. You paid more attention to your mom the week she was here, than you have the two months you’ve been home! I…I don’t know what I’ve done…but if you don’t love me anymore..just tell me…and I’ll leave.” You could feel the tears pool behind your eyes.

You didn’t give him a chance to speak, as you stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs, not able to look at him in the eyes. You ended up on the back patio, feet dangling in the water of the pool.

Tyler thought for a moment. He had been dealing with a lot, but he never did really say anything that wasn’t about him lately. Sure, the pain killers he was on for the hip didn’t help any, or the physical therapy, being in pain almost for the 4 months, slowly getting better. But you had done so much for him. You even took the week off he came home, as you already were going to in case of the win, to stay home with him. You went to the pharmacy for him, got him almost everything he wanted, and took you for granted.

He felt like a dumbass. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, hell, he was the worst. He didn’t think, and yeah, he wasn’t the smartest guy half the time, but he knew how amazing you were, and didn’t want to lose you, in any sense of the word.

He hobbled down the stairs, and looked around the downstairs area for you. Tyler walked outside and saw you looking down at the water in the pool. He could still hear your last sentence in his head. The way your voice cracked, tore his heart in half. He had to make this right, and he had to make sure that you knew you were the most amazing person in his life.

Tyler sat down slowly next to you, looking at you with a softened look.

“Can I talk?” He asked quietly, not wanting you to blow him off.

You didn’t say a word, you didn’t know if you wanted to hear the next words that were about to come out of his mouth.

“Well, I want to, so I’m gonna talk…” He said before taking a deep breath. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You’re right, I was oblivious on how much you did for me, how much you gave up for me…”

You looked up at the house, before looking back down at the water.

“I was so focused on what I was feeling, because everything was a lot, but I couldn’t think of anyone else. You were always there for me the last few months, and I just fucking blew you off. I know the pain meds don’t help, but I’ve never been more thankful for you, I’ve never been so in awe of someone before. You’ve done everything you can to take care of me. I’m finally on the mend, but you took care of me emotionally, and physically, and I can’t even begin to tell you how much that meant to me…” He said to you, hoping you would look up at him,

“The game helps, because I can bond with the guys, and it’s hard knowing I can’t go into training camp right now, playing’s all I’ve known for years, and it’s hard knowing I can’t do it. That’s no excuse, I know. But I love you…you may not believe it, but I do, more than you know.”

You finally looked up at Tyler, you could see the hurt and the sorry in his eyes.

“Really?” You said quietly, not wanting to say much, but still wanting to make sure his words were sure.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone with me but you. I know I’ve been a dick in not taking you for granted, but everything you’ve done for me, meant everything to me. You’re someone I can’t imagine my life without. I’m sorry I made you feel unloved, and un-beautiful. You are the most beautiful person in the world, a face of makeup, or bare faced. “

You were about to cry again, but because of his words this time. You felt embarrassed for asking him to say things to you, but you were someone that needed validation. You needed words of love, admiration.

“I know our sex life kind of died, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it all the time. I..I haven’t treated you the way you deserve, and I don’t know how to make it up to you. I’m so, so sorry you felt like this.”

You leaned your face into his shoulder, and he pulled you in close. Your head was in his chest, and you couldn’t help but sob.

“I know you care, and lo…” He shushed you before you could go on.

“No, you had every right to bring this up. I’m not this kind of guy, and the situations haven’t been ideal, but I’m a man of words to you, and I haven’t been showing that. I know I have a lot to make up for, and I promise I will. You just tell me the word, and I’ll do whatever I can for you….within reason.” He said, which coughed you to chuckle lightly.

“I’ll make a list…there’s months to make up for Seguin, but…” You said, you didn’t want to ask for sex right now, could he? But you just missed his touch, you missed in the way he would hold you in those intimate moments.

“But what?” He asked, pushing some hair out of your face.

“I don’t know what the doctor said about sex but…nothing major?” You felt your face get red, as you removed your face from this chest and wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks.

“Ah..well..I don’t know how much I can do, but I’m not letting my lady down.” He smiled before kissing you softly, but with more passion than you had felt in months. “I’d carry you..but I don’t wanna wobble and shit…” He said, feeling bad.

“No I get it, let’s go.” You nodded before he grabbed your hand and held it tightly before walking back into the house, and back up the stairs.

You two re-entered the bedroom and he shut the door.

“I..think to be safe, you need to be on top. And it’s not me wanting to see those tits in my face, it’s…injury reason.” He said, knowing he probably asked the doctors way too much about getting back into sex.

“Mhm…” you playfully rolled your eyes as you removed your clothes, knowing there was a time and place for foreplay, and this wasn’t it.

“I asked, he probably things I’m a freak or something…” He laughed before he was able to slide off his clothes, slower than you did.

You hovered over him, and he pushed the stray piece of hair again back behind your ear. “You really are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He said before his lips landed on yours.

The way you too connected, felt like the first time. It was something that the both of you had forgotten what it felt like. You went slow, which wasn’t the speed for the two of you, but it was needed, needed more than anything. His hands rested on your hips as you thrusted, and rode him. The moans filled the air, and it felt passionate and raw.

You both came, after not lasting very long. Usually if it didn’t last long, one of you would feel embarrassed, but the face you didn't have sex for quite a long time, made it perfectly fine. You leaned down and rested on his chest, him still inside of you.

“I love you…” You said, placing a kiss on the bare space on his upper chest.

“I love you too, more than anything in this entire world baby girl. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, finally feeling that the two of you, were slowly on the way up back to your relationship.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fic #winter gift exchange #hockeynetwork #hockey fic #give me headphones and 90 mins and i can write anything #this is my gif !

[gustavlindstrom]

@hockeynetwork event two: favorite players ➝ travis konecny

↳ “ya fuckin’ nerd” | src

#travis konecny #philadelphia flyers #flyers #flyers lb #hockeyedit #original content #graphic #event #hockeynetwork #thanks for letting me join this event! #maybe next time imma try light leaks

[atlthrshrs]

I think the thing I miss most about the Thrashers was their penalty box skits. I've only been able to find 4 of them and they were all great but this one had to be the best

#please watch this with sound it's so worth it #atlanta thrashers #nhl #hockey #new jersey devils #hockeyedit #hockeynetwork #nj devils #nhl meme #nhl memes

[wyattjohnston]

Just curious - how did you come up with the idea for the writing exchanges? It’s a fun thing because there’s so many fics to read at the end!

It wasn’t my idea, actually! A few years ago, I was part of @hockeynetwork where it was Flynn’s idea after seeing it in a few other fandoms and wanting to see if it would work on hockeyblr. It was originally for imagines and RPF, and there was even a gif/graphics/art portion at one point

When everyone else who was part of the network got too busy/moved on from hockeyblr, I asked if I could take it and do it on my own blog with some of my own changes and voila! Here we are!

This is number 6 on my own, and number 8 overall if I’ve counted correctly!

I always love seeing what people come up with and the boost it gives to the fic tag (which I don’t think needs much help these days, but for a year or so there there was not a lot going into that tag at all!).

I really enjoy seeing people branch out. I never expect it, because when I do matches I try to give at least three possible players, but sometimes people will just go completely left of centre and write for someone brand new

#demi answers a question #anonymous

[bellemareyouserious]

Panic Room

warnings: tom wilson x f reader, mention of alcohol, mention of toxic relationship, swearing, SMUT

word count: 3,682

authors note: WOW y’all its been a hot minute since i wrote anything!!! i was inspired to write for @hockeynetwork​‘s fic exchange, this story is for you @ihaveamillionfandoms​ !! i really hope you enjoy it! (special shoutouts to @tkuhnhackl​ for helping me edit and to @coffee77cat​ for sending me so much hot Tom for inspo)

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

Panic. 

You're 3 shots and a couple of drinks deep when you spot your ex boyfriend through the crowd. You could've sworn it was a drunken hallucination but the second glance tells you it's a nightmare come to life. The fear sets in quickly when you shoot a side eye to your best friend at the exact same time she spots him. She's in the middle of the dance floor with some random guy attached to her back so she can't do much to help you besides motioning for you to get some air. 

The drink in your hands is funneled down your throat before you're speed walking to the bathroom on the verge of a panic attack, praying your ex didn't see you. The breakup was nasty and only happened a couple of weeks ago, though it felt like years since you've seen him. The relationship should've ended months before. You kept making excuses for him and blaming it on yourself. Looking back on it, the toxicity was all him and you finally figured out you deserve better than that. So you left. 

He didn't take it so well. Called you every name in the book, tried to turn your friends against you, even tried to convince your parents to talk to you for him. You knew you made the right decision when he trashed your car before your 12 hour shift. Even though it was finally over, the emotional trauma left behind wasn't so easily forgotten, which is why even seeing him sent you into fight or flight mode. 

The path to the bathroom is crowded and dark. You definitely have a slight buzz that isn't helping either. You finally spot the small sign and practically run around the corner to get there when you run face first into a broad chest and nearly fall backwards, but two strong hands catch you before you hit the ground. 

"Oh my god I'm so sorry are you okay? I didn't even see you comi- hey is that you y/n?"

Before you get a chance to be embarrassed about the situation you quickly recognize the large man in front of you as Tom Wilson from the Washington Capitals. Or just Tom to you. 

"H-hey Tom, it's okay I ran into you. Thanks for uh, catching me," you stutter out, still in panic mode from seeing your ex. You see the confusion on his face as soon as you feel your hands shaking on top of his arms. You've known Tom for a couple of years now through your job. You started as a nursing student intern at Medstar and eventually worked your way up to becoming a full time pediatric nurse. The Capitals often visited the kids staying there and you happened to meet Tom one day on their Christmas visit, immediately blushing and thinking of how hot this guy was. Your coworkers were quick to spot how he was making you feel and kept teasing you about it until he walked in and heard the whole conversation. Your face when you saw him in the room had to have been priceless; he cracked up when you turned around and realized. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life but when you went to lunch that day there was a note waiting for you on the fridge. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. Text me sometime. Xo Tom" with his number attached to it. You couldn't believe he had an interest in you but you needed to play it cool and wait a few days to text him. 

You talked to him constantly the first couple of weeks, and you really thought there could be something between you two. However, with both of your jobs being so damn hectic, there was little to no time to see him and things fizzled out pretty quickly. You were bummed but the two of you still occasionally talked over the last few years and hung out as friends a couple of times.

Now he's standing there holding you, on the brink of a breakdown, in the middle of a loud and crowded club. Perfect circumstances, you think sarcastically. 

He lifts your chin up with one finger and looks in your eyes before he speaks this time. "Hey look at me. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I uh, saw my ex on the dance floor and I'm kinda freaking out," you manage to get out while looking over your shoulder for any sign of your ex. 

Tom's demeanor instantly shifts from soft and serious to protective. "Has he hurt you? Do I need to beat his ass?" Now he looks around despite not knowing what he looks like. You chuckle to yourself but put a hand on his chest. 

"No you don't need to beat his ass but I appreciate the offer. He's never touched me but he can get scary when he's drunk. It didn't end well," you undersell how badly it ended so Tom wouldn't actually kill him tonight. "Just the sight of him put me into a panic but I feel a bit better now."

His eyes fixate back on you to find worry still written on your face. "Well now that I know that I'm not letting you be alone in here. Nobody should ever feel that way," he all but barks out. You flinch away from the sound slightly, his thumb rubbing your arm instinctively when he notices. "Do you still want to go to the bathroom for a minute? I'll wait here for you."

His strong presence alone calms you enough to feel okay again, though you want to make sure you don't look a mess before returning to your best friend. "Yeah, that would be great actually. Thanks, Tom," you smile at him as you slipped into the bathroom. Your hands brace the sink as you take a look at your flustered state in the mirror, not too bad for someone who basically saw a ghost. Your face is beet red but other than that, not even a hair out of place. Impressive. You’re glad for at least that, Tom seeing you like that and looking like a hot mess would've been even more embarrassing. You smooth your outfit swiftly before returning to Tom. 

"You okay?" he asks at your return and you give him a small nod. "Okay good, let's go get you some water," he holds his hand out for you to take and intertwines your fingers easily, making your heart skip a beat. Your eyes flick down to your hand and back up to Tom's face just in time to see the hint of a smile pulling at his lips while you weave through the crowd. The flush on your face is more prominent now, you’re sure of it. 

The heavy beat thumps against your chest, distracting you from your irregular heartbeat and dizzy thoughts. You run into someone and realize it's y/b/f/n. 

"Oh my god, y/n. Are you okay?! Sorry I couldn't get away from that guy in time to be with you. I think your ex left but I can't be 100% sure-" their rambling stops when they realize you have a giant man attached to your arm. "Oh wow, Tom right? How lucky is y/n that you're here tonight?!" They grab Tom for a hug, he looks surprised that they remember him and returns the hug, never letting go of your hand. "I'm so happy you're here!" you hear them yell in Tom's ear over the music. They look between the two of you and gesture back to the dance floor, "Shall we?" They reach for your free hand and drag both of you onto the crowded dance floor. Your eyes meet Tom's again as you raise your eyebrows at him, earning a laugh. 

You are starting to feel better and more comfortable just by having Tom's hand in yours. A poppy song starts playing so you start bopping along when Tom suddenly twirls you around and draws you back into his arms, face inches from yours when you start to feel the butterflies. It feels like you could stay this way for hours and be content with it. 

You sense Tom is thinking the same when he gives you a shy smile but he immediately surprises you by turning you back around and attaching himself to you, hands gripping your waist. You’re glad to be facing away from him just so he couldn't see the growing flush on your face. His mouth dips down to your ear and you shiver as he whispers, "Is this okay?" in a low voice. Your enthusiastic nod makes him giggle; meanwhile his hands grip your hips even tighter. Y/b/f/n catches a glimpse of you and wiggles their eyebrows up and down with a smirk. If you were closer to them, you would've smacked them in the arm. 

Y/b/f/n picks up their phone and is on a brief call before striding back over to you and Tom. "Hey, my friend is gonna pick me up and I'm staying at their place. Tom, you okay to take y/n home?" they ask suggestively while looking between the two of you; you both just laugh and Tom speaks up first. 

"Yeah I think I can handle that, as long as it's alright with y/n," he looks down at you expectantly and your heart speeds up once again. The effect that one sentence had on your body was almost embarrassing. 

"Y-yeah, yeah. Go with your friend, be safe," you completely stutter out. 

Y/b/f/n pulls you in for a hug and murmurs, "You owe me one, kid. Be safe and have fun," they wink at you and wave goodbye as they disappear into the crowd. 

….

The traumatic events of the night are just a memory now, Tom's frame against yours the only thing on your mind. The way his hands travel your body, how perfectly his body moves in sync with yours, the tension between you is electric and you both know it. 

In the spur of the moment, you turn to face him and interlock your hands behind his neck while pushing your hips towards him. His eyes sweep down, taking in your form while his lip is drawn between his teeth. The rhythm of your bodies never stops, just gets closer and more desperate for each other. The world seems to freeze when he looks into your eyes, down at your lips, and back up to your eyes again, silently asking permission for what he's wanted to do all night. You stop breathing for just a second before moving your hand to his cheek and going in for the kiss. 

It's slow at first, wanting. The way his lips envelope yours sends your mind wandering, hoping this night ends with you in his arms (and his bed). His tongue slowly slides into yours, making you melt into him even more. The rhythm of your tongues mimics your bodies and you're craving his touch everywhere. His hands come up to rest on your ass and you immediately remember you're in a public place. You break the kiss just to catch your breath while looking up at him through your lashes, seeing the blush on his face makes you want to jump on him right then and there. 

"Do you maybe… wanna get out of here?" you ask shyly, as if you weren't just dry humping on a crowded dance floor. His low laugh sends shivers down your spine as he nods.

"My place or yours?" he asks in your ear. Before moving away he places a soft kiss right below your earlobe and you can feel your heart rate speed up instantly. 

"Yours? If that's okay?" His hand finds yours and the walk outside feels unbearable. The crowd of people only slightly part to let you by, every moment you're not attached to him feels like eternity. It's a bit chilly outside and with how hot you already are, it makes your whole body shiver.

You're finally at his car and he opens the door for you, a hint of amusement in your smile. "Wow, what a gentleman, thank you," you tease, but before you can get in he lays a firm smack on your ass. The feeling goes right to your clit and turns you on more than you'd care to admit. His smirk shows he knows exactly what you're thinking.

"What was that about being a gentleman?" he breathes out while closing your door. The second he gets in the car, you are buzzing with electricity. Everything he does gets you hotter. The car revs and you're speeding off to his place, his hand on your thigh moving upwards until you think he's finally going to touch you but then he pulls away.

By the time you get to his house, your underwear is soaked with anticipation. He practically throws the car in park and runs around to your side of the car to open the door for you. Even for a hookup he's a gentleman, although a small part of your mind wants it to be more than a hookup. You never stopped thinking about him even while dating your ex. 

Tom's hand reaches for yours as he helps you out of the car, both of you eager to get inside. He fumbles with his keys before the door is finally unlocked. As soon as you walk in, he slams the door shut and backs you up into it. Your breath catches in your throat while you take in the sight of him; the way his shirt strains against his biceps, how his pants hug his waist just right. His eyes are doing the same to you while one hand hits the door next to your face and the other cups your cheek. He can't stop staring at your lips when he whispers, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this." It makes your knees go weak, but his body pressed against yours keeps you upright. His kiss is urgent but tender, one hand roaming your body. The kiss deepens and you're left breathless, fingers tugging on his hair and clawing at his chest, silently asking for more. He gets the hint easily and suddenly his hands grip under your thighs as he picks you up. The kiss is never broken while he walks backwards towards his room, his knees abruptly hit the side of his bed and you both fall on it, giggling the whole time. He puts his hands on your legs and picks you up once again, turning you around so he's on top of you. His kisses trail from your neck down to the hem of your top and his hands find the bottom of it. He looks up at you asking for permission, so you lift yourself up so he can take it off easily. 

His eyes go wide as soon as he sees your bare chest. "So fucking beautiful," he groans while moving his mouth towards your already hard nipples. His mouth is around one licking and sucking and you can't help the small moans escaping your mouth. Your hand finds his shoulder and you motion for him to take his shirt off. He's straddling you now and easily removes his shirt, the sight one you could never get tired of. His wide frame is chiseled and you can't help but reach out and touch it. Your hands trace his muscles before finding his button and undoing it. He bites his lip and sighs at the almost contact but you continue to move slowly just to tease him. Once his pants are finally off, he moves down the bed to take yours off. A whine catches in his throat when he sees you in nothing but your panties. He comes back up to kiss you, tongue darting in your mouth with impatience. His finger moves down your body leaving goosebumps in its place. He hooks your underwear around it and pulls them down around your ankles. His finger finds your clit easily, making you moan into his mouth. His thumb starts circling your clit while his strong fingers move to your soaked pussy. He grunts when he feels just how wet you are. 

"Fuck baby," he pants out, "so fucking wet for me huh?" You just nod in response, unable to form words. "Is this okay?" he asks while mouthing sloppy kisses down your stomach. 

"Yes, yes babe," you whine. The pulse in your clit is making it hard to not push his whole face down so he can give it the attention it needs. "Please, Tom."

His tongue finally finds your throbbing clit, slow and timid motions at first while he gets a feel for what you like. He licks a stripe down and back up through your slit, nose brushing your clit on the way back up. Tom’s tongue is moving in circles making your legs shake. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can't control the noises that come out of your throat. His mouth comes off of you with a pop and he's smirking up at you between your legs before he suddenly puts one finger into you making you gasp. He pumps it into you a couple times before adding a second one and curling them in just the right way. Your chest is heaving and you can feel your orgasm building slowly when he pulls out of you. He stands up next to the bed and pulls his boxers down, hard cock finally springing free. You look up at him through your lashes and reach out to touch it. His eyes flutter shut the moment your hand is around him, slowly pumping him before you're kneeling in front of him to put it in your mouth. 

He looks so fucking pretty like this- lips red and swollen, dick eager to be in your mouth. His hand grips your hair, pulling your head back slightly before you lean in to kitten lick the tip. You swirl him around in your mouth briefly before taking half his length in your waiting mouth. His hips buck at the contact, fist tightening in your hair. You can feel him watching you, so you look up at him innocently before moving so his cock hits the back of your throat. The moan that leaves his mouth is so fucking hot so you keep going, moving his other hand to your head so he can better direct your movements. He goes gently at first but feels your moans around him so he increases his speed and starts to fuck your face. There's spit running out of your mouth and tears threatening to come out of your eyes but the look on his face makes your pussy quiver. 

He slows his motions and lets go of your face before helping you up. He signals for you to get on the bed while he gets a condom from his bedside table then rips it open with his teeth. Once it's on, he climbs over you and looks over your body before finding your eyes and brushing your hair back. You can't help but smile and blush at how the whole night has played out. 

His thumb comes up to rub at your cheek before asking quietly, "You ready?" You nod and return the favor of pushing his hair back while locking your legs behind him. He runs his cock through your folds and pushes into you gently. You both gasp at the feeling while he bottoms out. He gives you a second to adjust when he pulls almost all the way out and thrusts back in, making you whimper. Your walls are already fluttering around him, nails gripping his back. 

"Fuck y/n, I'm not gonna last when you feel this fucking good," he groans in your ear. He picks up the pace and starts thrusting even quicker, pelvic bone hitting your clit in the best way. You can feel yourself getting close when he slightly changes angles and makes you feel like you're floating. You move your body along with him, nails dragging down his back causing him to bite your shoulder. His cock is hitting in just the right place and you start to unravel underneath him, walls clenching as your orgasm hits. 

"Fuck Tom, I'm cumming," you whine while bucking your hips to meet his. The moan that escapes your lips when you finish just inches him closer. You're still out of breath, but you clamp your walls down on him making him curse softly. His thrusts become erratic and you know he's close. 

"Cum for me, babe," you whisper in his ear and pull on his hair, eliciting a loud gasp. He pumps into you a few more times and then stills while a string of curses falls from his lips. He kisses you sweetly before collapsing next to you on the bed. 

You both look at each other at the same time and you move to put your head on his panting chest. His arm comes firmly around you and gives you a small squeeze, fingers running through your damp hair. 

"Wow," he breathed out. "You're incredible, you know that?"

You can't help but giggle. Only 1 night spent with him and you already feel like a princess. 

"You're pretty incredible yourself."

"Remind me why we've never done that before?" he teases with a smirk. "Can I ask you something?" You just nod lightly in response. "Can I take you on a proper date?"

Your head whips up to look at him, the cheesy grin on your face hard to hide. His eyes light up as soon as he sees your expression. 

"I would love that, Tom," you answer cheerfully and he returns the smile. He leans down to kiss you and you both let out a content sigh. 

Hopefully this was the beginning of something special. 

#tom wilson #washinton capitals #tom wilson x reader #ihaveamillionfandoms #the summer fic exchange #tom wilson smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockeynetwork #my writing #i hope you like it!!!

[ihaveamillionfandoms]

Surprise!- Tom Wilson

This fic is for the @hockeynetwork fic exchange and @tkachukme

You're sitting in the dining room of your and Tom’s new home, waiting for him to come back after he went out to run a few errands 

"Hey princessssss" Tom walks into your home with a huge smile on his face, carrying flowers, balloons, and breakfast from your favorite restaurant.

"I'm in here baby!" 

He smiles and walks to the dining room where you are, setting everything down in front of you

"Happy 5th wedding anniversary, baby girl… I love you so much." He leans down and gives you gentle kisses on your neck, cheek, and lips.

“I love you too handsome.” You kiss him back before getting up to grab two plates from your kitchen so the two of you can eat breakfast.

  

The two of you eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

Tom drives the two of you to practice with his hand on your thigh.

You arrive and follow Tommy into the locker room, but are met with a dark room. 

Tom flips on the light switch and everyone jumps out. You can see Vee, Ilya, and all of the rookies that you've taken under your wings over the years.

"Surprise!"

You jump, clinging to Tom and he laughs softly.

"Relax, Princess, it's alright" He wraps an arm around your waist while smiling softly

"Happy Anniversary!" 

You had become the team mom and dad so it was no surprise that they would do this

"Thank you for making him easier to deal with, Y/N. He always used to be such a grump." Vee smirks and elbows Tom in the side.

He rolls his eyes and gives everyone hugs before coming back to you.

"We have a surprise ourselves… There is going to be a baby Wilson added to the team in July" Tom smiles and puts his hand on your belly, giving you a soft kiss. You smile back at him and put your hand over his.

the second baby Wilson was out in the air all of the guys started screaming and jumping around. Vee ran over giddy before hugging you and almost knocking you over. 

"Woah be careful bud, she's got precious cargo…" He steadys you on your feet

"So do I get to be the godfather??" Evgeny gets all giddy and smiley

"No I should be the godfather! He already calls me Papa!" Nicke lightly bumps his elbow into his side 

"You guys are so immature, Obviously I should be the godfather with how all of you are acting" Braden rolls his eyes and gives you a gentle hug 

You smile and hug him back and also give Nicke and Vee a hug before going back to Tom

A few weeks later you and Tom are preparing for your gender reveal.

"Hey babies..." Tom smiles and wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your neck softly.

"Hey Tommy…" You smile and lean into his touch.

"Are you ready to go, princess? We have to be at the rink to set up in 15 minutes…"

"Yeah. Let's go, honey." You grab your phone and slide it into your purse before opening the door and getting into the car.

You finish setting up and everyone arrives.  Then it's time for the reveal.

 “Alright, baby press record!” Tom exclaims.

“Okay, Love, be careful, let’s do this.” you respond before raising your phone and pressing record.

He pushes off and handles the puck, focusing on your reflection in the glass. He starts to do a serpentine pattern before slowing down, He's a few feet away from the box deciding to play the puck off his skate. The puck breaks the box and he skates back to you shouting, “IT’S A BOY!” 

He carefully spins you around and kisses you softly.

"I am so ready for our little man to be here." 

"This is just the beginning of our newest adventure together babe… I love you."

"I love you too, Princess."

A big thanks to @annealer1002 and @antoineroussel for betaing/suggestions

#Tom Wilson #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #washington capitals imagine #tom wilson imagine #hockey fic #hockeynetwork

[thebluejayawe]

Oh there is no place I would rather be 

Quinn’s been dealing with this his entire life. He doesn’t understand why it’s just now getting worse.

Tanner walks by and ruffles his hair. “Jesus Quinner you look like a zombie, don’t you ever sleep?”

Across the locker room, Petey looks at him with narrowed eyes, careful and scrutinizing.

Because Petey knows.

Quinn sleeps all the time. He just can't stop dreaming.

.

finally finally FINALLY! 

My gift for the @hockeynetwork gift exchange thats way late but hopefully does not disappoint!

@konecnynerd this is for you!! I really hope you enjoy this ~ I am furiously working on part two, that will hopefully be up soonish :)

[title from Bastille’s song 4 AM]

Read on AO3

#hockeynetwork #my fic #hockey rpf #vancouver canucks #hockeynetworkexchange2020 #my first canucks fic and as a die hard bruins fan i feel like im cheating on them somehow #stg ill get part two up soon #still feel so horrible about how long its taken me

[thosedaysthatwill]

Fandom: Men's Hockey RPF Relationships: Sebastian Aho/Justin Williams, Teuvo Teravainen/Kimmo Timonen Additional Tags: Age Difference, Fluff, HockeyNetwork Winter Gift Exchange, copious use of the word 'daddy', very loose understanding of snowmobiles, implications of many other pairings Summary: Justin sighed, glancing over to Kimmo, "Is all this really worth it?"

Kimmo laughed, shaking his head, "He is always worth it."

---

A gift for @caixxa for the @hockeynetwork Winter Gift Exchange. 

#hockey fic #hockeynetwork #this was so much fun to write