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pucked-bunnie · 14 days

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wedding dates & unwelcome surprises ⎜j.hughes

pairings: jack hughes x reader genre: fluff warnings: mentions of shitty exes and family ⎜mild fighting?⎜sassy jack⎜ synopsis: it's the first time you're bringing your boyfriend home to meet your family, as a date to your sisters wedding - you didn't know your ex was going to be a plus one. word count: 3.3k authors note: this was requested...kinda. Anyway enjoy and requests are open. (unedited)

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Jacks question breaks the almost silence of the car, one hand sitting on the steering wheel, the other latched with yours on your lap.

“Hmm?” You question, turning your eyes away from the passing trees to the man sitting besides you, his knuckles white as he grips the leather wheel.

“Your family.” He explains, “Do you think they’ll like me?” He questions again, his words making you sputter as your mouth falls open.

“Jack Hughes darling of the hockey world, every teenage fans wet dream, is worried that my family won’t like him?” You exclaim in confusion, a light smile on your face as he shakes his head, moving to pull his hand from yours. “No, I’m kidding.” You yelp, tightening your grip on his, settling your joined hand back in your lap, your other hand coming to cup over his.

“Jack, you’re letting them use your lake house for a rehearsal dinner and you paid for my sister's honeymoon - even if they didn’t like you they’re not gonna bite the hand that feeds them.” You begin, reaching one hand to sweep a loose strand of hair behind his ear, smiling at him softly when he glances your way.

“They will love you, I’ve never seen my family so excited to meet someone before.” You can see some of the tension released from his shoulders as he nods, the car pulling into the ridiculously long driveway of the lake house, more than twenty cars already parked around the house.

“I hope you’re ready for chaos, cause this is going to be like pulling teeth.” You mumble as he stops the car besides your mothers recognizable three door. You finally release his hand before unbuckling your seat belt, sliding out of the car with a long sigh, smoothing out the baby blue fabric of your sundress.

Your sister had insisted on pastel attire to be worn over the weekend, her wedding had to give ‘spring fairy vibes’ is exactly what she had put into the email she sent out. Jack made his way around the front of the car, his hand immediately stretching out towards yours, making grabby motions towards you.

You obliged him, reaching your hand forwards into his, your palms slipping against each other as your hands squeezed together. “Do I look okay?” He asks and you nod, Jack had been adamant about matching as much as possible this weekend, knowing it was something you enjoyed, a light blue linen shirt was tucked into his cream colour slacks, both of you in a pair of brand new white tennis shoes.

“You look great, and they’re going to adore you.” You reassure him, taking in a big breath as you push open the front door to the lake house, the familiar interior putting the two of you a little more at ease.

The two of you stroll into the large house keeping your eyes peeled for the bride and groom, hoping to say quick congratulations to them before being swept into conversation with the rest of your family.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” A voice says from the kitchen as the two of you enter the room, your sister standing at one of the charcuterie boards, her fiancee close by her side as they both send you large smiles. “You’re only thirty minutes late.” She grumbles, placing her plate on the bench before rushing forwards, her arms embracing you quickly.

Jack releases your hand as you return your sister's embrace, “It’s good to see you.” You hum, hugging her tightly, the two of you releasing as you move over to hug your soon to be brother-in-law.

“And you must be Jack.” You sister coos, standing back with one hand propped on her hip as she glances over your boyfriend. His eyes shoot to yours quickly before returning to your sister, his hands clenched by his side as he waits for her to say something.

“Gracie, leave the poor boy alone.” Your brother in law says quickly, patting you on the shoulder as he shoots you an approving grin.

“Oh who am I kidding, you are a savior, Jack.” You sister steps forwards wrapping her arms around Jack in a friendly hug, squeezing him once more before releasing him and returning to her partner's side.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for the two of us.” Jack tries to wave off the thanks with a shake of his hand.

“Please don’t thank me- it was your sister's idea, I just coughed up the money.” Jack jokes, before quickly adding, “It’s really not a big deal, I hope the two of you enjoy the trip.” Your sister glances between you and Jack with a smile before a gasp escapes her, your eyes catching on a familiar face in the backyard of your boyfriend's lake house, a short blonde attached to his side.

“So there was a bit of a hiccup with the invitations.” Your sister begins and you feel your stomach drop. “We sent Jess an invitation and forgot to remove the plus one option. We were honestly hoping she just wouldn’t respond and we could avoid the whole thing.” Your sister twirls her engagement ring nervously around her finger as she follows your gaze.

“We didn’t even know they were still together.” You brother in law adds quickly, his gaze dropping to the ground quickly as you glare over at him. Jack watches the encounter in confusion, his gaze following yours as he glances over at the man standing talking with who he recognises to be your mother. “I’m really sorry.” Your sister adds, your head shaking quickly.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like they almost ruined my life or anything.” Your sister grimaces at your words, her mouth opening to say something, falling closed as Jack shakes his head quickly

“Why don’t we meet the two of you guys outside, I’m really digging the spread you’ve got out.” He says quickly, giving your sister an easy out, the soon to be married couple rushing out of the kitchen as Jack pulls you over to the fruit platter. He silently grabs you a plate placing your favourite on the light pink plastic.

“I’m waiting for you to explain what was going on inside of your pretty little head.” He says with a clearing of his throat, turning to lean against the counter as you lean against the marble, glaring at the fridge in front of you.

“Jess is my cousin.” You begin, jack nodding intently, popping a grape into his mouth, “She fucked my boyfriend three years ago, right before we met actually. Josh and I lived together at the time, apparently they had been having an affair for months before he broke it off with me.” You take in a deep breath as you add, “I only found out when I got home to all my shit packed in bags and her shoving their engagement ring in my face.” Jack chokes at you’re bland delivery of the biggest betrayal he had ever heard in his life.

He smacks against his chest a few times, trying to swallow down the remainders of the fruit stuck in his throat. “What the fuck.” He exclaims as soon as his throat is cleared.

“Trust me that’s not even the worst part.” You laugh humourlessly, dropping your gaze to the floor. “After he had put all my belongings into garbage bags and as he was evicting me from my own apartment he shared some hard truths with me.” Jack nodded slowly, his heart dropping as he waits for you to finish. “He said he could only ever be with me when he had a few.”

Jack paused before asking, “you’re fucking with me, right?”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh bubbling from your chest, quickly adding “he even said he loved Jess more than me because she was smaller because she made him feel more masculine.” Jack watches you cautiously as you let out a shaky breath, turning your face up towards him with a sad smile.

“I had to live with a friend for weeks cause I had nowhere else to go, she helped me find my apartment in the city, and then I met you so it wasn’t all bad.” You say taking a big bite of a strawberry Jack hands you.

“I understand why you’re so upset.” Jack responds and you shake your head, placing the scrap of your strawberry on the plastic plate.

“It’s not like I have feelings for him or anything and I couldn’t care less about her but sometimes it’s nice to have a little warning before you go face to face with two assholes who hurt you.” You explain and Jack nods, reaching out to smooth two hands up and down your arms.

“You really dated a guy called Josh?” He questions, a shit eating grin spreading across his face, “That’s like the douche-ist name out there.” He adds and you let out a sarcastic chuckle, grabbing a grape off his plate and lobbing it at his face.

“That’s a lot coming from a dude called Jack.” You roll your eyes as his smile grows, his finger pointing at you in approval.

“Touché.” He says quickly, his hand lacing with yours again, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your hair as he whispers, “Let’s go pull some teeth out.”

“So Jack you’re an athlete?” You seventy year old aunty asks as she leans forwards in her seat he hand placed gently on Jack’s arm, her eyes moving over him in a frenzy. Jack had been more than patient throughout the afternoon.

After another very warm welcome from your mother, the two of you mingled with the rest of your family, many of them curious about Jack’s career choice. “Aunt Shel, we’re just going to go grab some refreshments, would you like anything?” You question as you stand from the table, reaching down to lightly pull Jack’s arm from her grip, her head shaking in answer to your question as she moves her attention to someone else further down the table.

“Thank you.” Jack groans as he lets you drag him over to the drink table, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hovers behind you, watching as you pour two cups of lemonade. His head resting on your shoulder as you sip from your cup, his gaze shooting to your right as your body tenses, a high whine of a laugh sounding besides the two of you.

“Oh my, babe look who’s here.” Jack watches as your head turns slowly, a fake bitter grin on your face as you turn the rest of the way to greet the short blonde.

“Jess… I didn’t know you’d be here.” Your voice is close to a hiss. Jack’s eyebrows raise in surprise as he watches the once over you give the smaller girl, turning to the man that steps up to her side, your name falling out of his mouth as glances over you and the man whose arms are still wrapped around you.

“Well when we got the invite in the mail I was just so excited, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Jack covers a laugh as he watches your cousin reach out to pat your arm, your body tilting so you remain just out of reach. “And Josh was saying how much he missed spending time with our family.” Jack winces as Jess uses the word ‘our’ his gaze finally flickering over to the man standing besides your cousin.

Josh was a pretty average looking guy for the most part, he and Jack were around the same height, Josh having a close shaved buzz cut to contrast to Jack's quickly growing hair. Jack listens half heartedly to Jess’s rambling, his gaze settled on Josh, the man shifting from foot to foot under the scrutiny of your boyfriend's glare.

“Oh, and I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet.” Jess finally turns her attention to the man standing behind you, his gaze shifting slowly from your ex to your flirtatious cousin.

“Oh, I don’t think introductions are needed.” Jack's voice is sharp as he frowns down at the woman, your gaze turning up at him in surprise, his arms moving from around your waist to stand fully beside you, his hand sliding down your arm, his fingers tangling with yours. “I’ve heard more than my share about you.” He says motioning with your joined hands to Jess before adding, “Both of you.”

“Oh all good things I hope.” Jess giggles leaning into the man besides her, his face set in a frown as he shakes her off, glancing back at you.

“Not even close.” Jack responds.

The silence is thick and Jess’s eyebrows furrow trying to understand what Jack is saying, Josh’s frown deepens as he understands right away.

“Well on that note, I think we have some more mingling to do, please excuse us.” You interrupt, tugging on Jack's hand as you begin to walk back towards the house.

“Actually…” You hear Josh call out from behind you, your steps pausing as you wait to hear what he’ll say, “I was hoping we might be able to have a little talk?”

“Bunny, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Jack whispers in your ear, lifting your hand to press gentle kisses to your knuckles.

“I know.” You whisper back softly, before turning back around to face your ex. “What do you need to say?” You ask and he looks between his fiancé and you with wide eyes.

“Perhaps we can talk in private?” He asks and you shake your head. “At least can we leave the group?” Josh asks and you look around at the large amount of your family, gathered around the incredibly long table in the center of the backyard.

“Fine.” You agree, pointing to a tree a few meters away from the group. He nods, beginning to mumble something to the blonde besides him who bounces off happily to the rest of the family, you turn to Jack who just nods silently, his face serious as he glances over to your ex.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He grumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline before releasing your hand, watching as you stomp over to the tree where your ex is already waiting. You glance over your shoulder once more at Jack, his reassuring smile giving you a hit of confidence.

“Let’s get this over with.” You snarl as you lean one shoulder against the tree, looking Josh up and down with disdain.

“You seem happy with him.” Josh says quietly, your frown deepening as you wait for him to get to the point. “I doubt he knows you like I do though.” Your lips pull tight as you grimace, watching as Josh’s body relaxes a little, joining you in leaning against the tree, a little too close.

“No he doesn’t” You speak, adding “He knows me better, and frankly the person you think you know isn’t me anymore.” You take in a deep breath as you push off the tree. “Why are you even here, Josh? Jess is a ditz so I can understand why she wouldn’t have considered the possibility of not coming but you are unfortunately smarter than that. So why did you come?”

“I came to apologise. I feel horrible—”

“Wrong, try again.” You interrupt, your arms crossing against your chest. “You know what, I actually don’t care.” You laugh, looking over the man once more before taking a step back, “Despite the way you hurt me, I’m happier now then I could’ve imagined and you should be too. I mean you’re getting married to the girl you thought was better then everything I could give you so I’m going to go and be happy with someone who is better then everything you gave me.”

You turn to make your way back to the party, your eyes locking with Jacks as a large hand grips your wrist pulling you back towards him, Josh’s hands on your shoulders turning you around to face him. “I didn’t say we were done here.”

“We are definitely done here, get your grubby hand off me.” You hiss back, your body trying to pull from his grip, his hand tightening on your shoulders.

“I told you I’m not done.” Josh growls again, your hands finally managing to free yourself from his grip, your body stepping back as he reaches for you again.

“This was done a long time ago, buddy.” Your body jumps as Jack's hands land on your waist, pulling you behind him as he steps up towards your ex. Josh looks over Jack's shoulder trying to gain your attention once more, your boyfriend rolling his eyes, his hands raising to shove against Josh’s chest.

“Doesn’t feel so good when it’s happening to you, does it?” Jack grumbles as he shoves at Josh again, your hand reaching out to grab hold of his shirt, tugging on it softly.

“Jack let it go.” You whisper, tugging again to pull him back to you. “Jack, seriously it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Jack says, his voice firm as he turns towards you, “It’s not fine that you have to suffer through looking at his stupid face while he prances around a wedding dinner he wasn’t even directly invited to. It’s not fine that he thinks he can be a dick and get away with it. And it’s definitely not fine that he thinks he can put his hands on someone.” Jack is breathing heavily, his frustrations evident on his face as your family slowly makes their way over to your small group, wondering what the yelling is about.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek lightly, your thumb rubbing against the soft skin, as his breathing settles, his hand coming up to cup over yours.

“Jack’s right.” Your sister says quickly, “You need to leave.” She directs her comment with a glare at your ex, your family glaring at the man standing on his own besides the tree.

“No, Gracie you can’t do that, how am I meant to get home?” Jess questions pushing out of the group to stand besides her fiancee, the ring on her finger glinting in the sun.

“You can both go.” You sister says before adding, “neither of you are welcome at the wedding tomorrow and frankly I’ll be surprised if you get invited to any family events in the future.” You step closer to Jack, his arm bushing yours as you watch your brother in law step up besides your sister, insisting that they leave immediately.

“We’re gonna go too.” You say quietly to your sister as she turns away from the unwelcome couple, the two of them arguing as they trudge back to the house. “I think we both need a little recharge before the party tomorrow.” You continue, giving your sister a tight hug. She nods, making you promise to be at the hotel at seven in the morning on the dot to help her get ready.

You bid quick farewells to the rest of your family, your mum squeezing Jack extra tight, making him promise to return for every family get together.

“I felt quite masculine back there if I do say so myself.” Jack teases as you walk to the car, your hands twined together swinging between the two of you.

“Don’t even start with that.”

“Are you really okay?” He asks as you both get into the car, his eyes searching your face as you let out a gentle grin.

“More than okay, my macho man boyfriend stood up for me.” You respond, Jack letting out a groan at your choice in words. “Maybe I should change your name on my phone.” You tease Jack, snatching the device from your hands as you pull it from your bag.

“Please no.” He whines, tucking the phone under his leg as he starts the car.

“It was kinda hot seeing you get all macho like that.”

“Dear god, this is going to be a long drive.”

#jack hughes #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #nhl fic #nhl

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

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Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day.

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter.

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night.

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you.

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi.

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you.

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.”

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.”

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face.

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?”

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.”

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.”

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.”

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up.

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).”

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.”

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you.

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence.

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek.

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?” You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you.

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.”

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.”

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen.

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear.

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him.

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him.

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.”

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.”

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-”

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain.

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.”

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response.

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?”

“Whatever the chef wants.”

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun.

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear.

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants.

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear.

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.”

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him.

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit.

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become.

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees.

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch.

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?”

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him.

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap.

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you.

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened.

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“Javi…Javi, did you just-”

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak.

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him.

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.”

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second.

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s.

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?”

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.”

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high.

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point.

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you.

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare.

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.”

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier.

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft.

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him.

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.”

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly.

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.”

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.”

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.”

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again.

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh”

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own.

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth.

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh.

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

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sydnikov · 3 months

Text

the ink on your skin || N. Hischier

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Nico Hischier / gn!Reader

Word Count: 10.5k

Summary: You’re a successful tattoo artist right in the middle of Newark, New Jersey. One of your many clients just so happens to be a teammate of Nico Hischier, and he and his girlfriend, Natalie, play a game of matchmaker to get you talking. While you’ve never been a huge fan of hockey, getting to know Nico gets you instantly addicted to the sport as well as him. Friendship quickly turns into holding hands, kissing, acting like a couple but holding off on a label… And then, finally, right as you’re drifting apart, Nico swoops in and turns it into something more.

Warnings: Cursing, some angst, lots of anxiety talk, Tw*tter mentions, mostly fluff, poorly proofread

A/N: This is for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @wyattjohnston ‘s Winter Fic Exchange 2024 😁 I’ve been wanting to write for Nico for a while anyways so this gave me the perfect opportunity, and I really enjoyed having a bit of a personalized reader insert to play around with. I hope y’all enjoy! Loosely based on the lyrics of “Tribulation” by Matt Maeson

“Fuck, man, that hurts,”

You chuckle, lifting the needle of your tattoo gun for a few seconds before continuing your work. “I’m almost done, I swear,” you reassure, hiding your smirk as you take a napkin to dab away at the excess ink surrounding your linework.

The very man you’re tattooing, Jonas Siegenthaler, or ‘Siegs’ as you affectionately call him, is someone you’ve known for years. He is also a regular of your tattoo parlor, and right now is getting a lion on his right wrist shaded in.

Playing professional hockey, he doesn’t have much time to spend keeping up with a healing tattoo, but Jonas scheduled an appointment with you a week ago after his team, the New Jersey Devils, were eliminated in the playoffs. With three months to himself, he told you that now is the perfect time to get started on shading his wrist again.

Jonas curses again as the needle goes over the underside of his wrist, and once again you can’t hide back your laughter. You’ve been a tattoo artist for quite a few years now and are fairly used to the varying reactions your customers have, but expletives always manage to get you to break character. With any other client you’d at least attempt to be stoic, but you’ve been friends for long enough to know he doesn’t mind.

Finally, you finish your work, wiping away the remaining ink and powering off your tattoo gun. “Alright, Siegs, that’s it for today.” you say, wrapping his wrist with the proper coverings. Once you’re done sanitizing your own hands, you admire the art on his skin for a moment.

Jonas does the same, sitting up with a giant grin on his face. “It looks amazing, as always,” he looks like he wants to touch his newly-inked skin, but refrains when seeing the warning on your face.

“Okay,” you say as you lead him to the front of the store to ring up his aftercare supplies. Jonas is no amateur when it comes to tattoos by any means, but you feel the need to remind him anyway because athletes in particular always tend to lax out on tattoo aftercare. “You know the drill, but I’m still telling you anyways,”

Jonas just raises an eyebrow, listening to you list off all aftercare instructions as if he hasn’t been coming to you for years. Strangely enough, he couldn’t actually think of a time you’d hung out with each other outside of your working hours. He’ll have to change that, he hums to himself, especially after seeing the small New Jersey Devils flag you have hung on the wall.

“Have you ever been to a Devils game?” he asks as you’re handing him his aftercare supplies.

“I don’t think so, no. You know I don’t pay attention to hockey that much.”

“You should,” Jonas pushes, following you as you shuffle around the entrance of your parlor, likely looking for some supply he wouldn’t know the name of. “We’re a blast. And playoff hopeful again next season,”

You shoot him a wry smile, the both of you knowing it would take a lot more convincing to get you to leave the comforts of your shop to watch a sport you’ve never kept up with before. “Yeah? I’ll consider it,” you deadpan.

The defenseman takes no offense to your words, instead finding them to be a challenge. Mischievously, he grins. “Your consideration will turn into a yes, just you wait,”

“Sure,” you laugh, changing the subject. “You get an uber yet?” It’s relatively early in the day, so competition for booking one shouldn’t be too difficult.

Jonas shakes his head, unlocking his phone at the reminder of needing to leave. “Nah, my teammate is picking me up. He’s our captain, maybe you’ve heard of him—Nico Hischier?”

You think back to news articles you’ve seen online from late April when the Devils made the playoffs for the first time in years and you think you may have heard something about the team’s captain, but otherwise you don’t know much.

“I thought everyone would have gone home by now,” you say instead. It had been a week since their season ended, after all. Maybe this Nico guy had captain duties to attend to? You figure it’s nice of him to pick his teammate up from getting a tattoo either way, though.

The hockey player hears the curiosity in your voice, wondering how you would react to meeting his captain. “We’re both from Switzerland, so we both agreed to fly home together once we were all finished up here in Jersey. Getting my wrist shaded was the last thing on the list, thankfully,”

You make a noncommittal noise of understanding, your curiosity officially peeked by this ‘Nico’ guy. If you’ve learned anything about how the Swiss act from Jonas, you’re definitely looking forward to seeing if this captain was anything like his teammate.

Soon enough, the bell above your door is ringing as a man enters the parlor. You assume it’s Nico Hischier because of the Devils beanie he’s wearing, and because he looks out of place standing in your little parlor on the opposite side of town where his team plays. You wouldn’t know he has several tattoos himself.

You meet his eyes for a moment, and it almost looks like he’s caught off guard by the sight of you before he spots Jonas. He’s tall, you note to yourself, his shy smile endearing as he greets his teammate with a pat on the back.

“Nico!” Jonas greets happily, engaging in a short conversation before he turns his arm up to show his newly-shaded ink. “This one hurt like a bitch, but it’s looking beautiful now, isn’t it?”

“It is,” the man who you now know to be Nico confirms, admiring your work on his friend’s skin. “You did this?” he suddenly asks, the deep timber of his voice catching you off guard.

“Yeah,” you say, a little breathless. He’s beautiful. You think to yourself, confused about why you suddenly feel so hot when you purposefully keep the temperature in your shop cool. “Jonas is one of my regulars.”

Nico hums in response, eyes flitting back and forth from the lion on Jonas’s wrist and back to you, undoubtedly curious about how long his teammate has known you, and why he feels disappointed that he can’t see the rest of the ink decorating your own arms.

He himself is no stranger to tattoos, but he doesn’t have many nor do his look so intricate on his body like they do on yours. I need a new tattoo artist, he thinks, then mentally slaps himself because what?

With your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire, you turn away from the two hockey players in front of you to try and hide the embarrassment you feel. Unbeknownst to you, your movements make the light catch the dainty jewelry decorating your ears and nose, and Nico now undoubtedly finds himself in awe at your retreating form.

Who are you? He thinks. Siegs is a shit for not introducing you sooner. And then he rolls his eyes at himself again. What the fuck is the matter with him, anyways? He must have gotten a concussion during the playoffs, or something.

“You’re a regular?” He looks to his friend, subtly asking how long you’ve known each other. “You must like them, then,”

Jonas never prided himself on being intuitive; Nico’s prying went right over his head. He says your name with a fond smile, briefly looking to you as you mess around your desk again. “Oh, yeah, they’re the best. They’re fucking amazing with a tattoo gun, not to mention a huge Devils fan, too,”

You just so happen to overhear their conversation. “No, I’m not,” you scowl, but quickly retract your statement because Nico is looking at you like you just kicked his puppy. “Well, I mean, I’m a fan but not, like, a huge fan. I’ve never even been to a game,”

“Siegs, you should’ve brought ‘em around sooner, what the fuck!”

“I tried,”

Nico continues on like he didn’t hear him. “You’re coming to opening night. On me—on us, yeah?”

You’re much too in shock to comment on his slip of tongue, instead staring wide-eyed as he looks at you with determination. Nico just met you, but feels this compelling need to know you beyond the fact that you’re his friend’s reserved tattoo artist.

“You might as well just say yes,” Jonas speaks up, having caught on to your hesitation. “He won’t stop until you do,”

“Damn right.” The captain agrees, crossing his arms to further cement his point.

You’re drawn to the muscles that flex under the material of his shirt, and okay. Wow. With the way your body is heating up you would think that you’ve never been attracted to another human being in your life.

Quickly, your eyes dart back up to Nico’s, and you flush when you see he’s already caught onto your admiration of his body. He raises an eyebrow, teasing, and then you finally blurt out your response lest he call you out. “Well,” you start, clearing your throat when your voice comes out hoarse. “I guess that could be fun, yeah?”

Nico’s infectious grin at your agreement has you returning one of your own, flushed at the way you already knew your life would be a much happier one if you got to see him smile like that at you forever.

The two Devils’ players left soon after that, but not before you exchanged numbers with Nico Hischier himself while a smug Jonas watched from the background. “So I can send you the tickets when the time comes,” he’d said.

It was a perfectly believable excuse to you, but Jonas clapping his teammate on the back as if it were some kind of accomplishment had you questioning if Nico planned on texting you before their opening night.

You forced yourself to forget about it, though, in the meanwhile. You still had two more clients after they left, and you couldn’t exactly do your best work if Nico’s chiseled face and soft eyes wouldn’t leave your head.

And then a sharp pang struck your heart as you figure you’re just being delusional again. Reading too much into a situation that had no call for it, and imagining the way he looked at you like there was something behind your guarded eyes he wanted to explore.

No, you quickly put an end to your thoughts, steeling your resolve as you march back into the shelter of your shop. You aren’t putting yourself through this. Not again.

In a world of meaningless hookups and disappointing endings, you were a damaged romantic who would have once given the world if asked. But that hope for the future you envision with rose colored glasses is long gone, destroyed along with the pieces of your heart that shattered the last time you let yourself get too close to someone.

You decide then and there, with the image of Nico Hischier and his look of awe the moment he first saw you, that you weren’t going to ever grant him the ability to break you like the last person who did so years ago.

Despite the politeness he exudes, you half expect him to start making a move the moment he lands in Switzerland. You think he’ll start with a text that says, ‘Hey, how are you?’ and once you respond (because you will) he’ll send you pictures of him in his homeland, ones that require a compliment or an inquiry about what he’s doing.

You think you have him figured out. Men are predictable, you would know—their brains all work the same, and that includes how they hit on people they’re interested in.

However, you’re surprised to find that a text from him never comes. There’s no message awaiting you in between tattoo sessions, no ‘how are you’ or a picture of a ski lift or whatever it is people do in Switzerland. It irritates you because you don’t have Nico all figured out like you thought.

If you couldn’t place him into the typical group of uncommitted assholes you’d come to learn, then just who is he?

The answer escapes you for many months after. You certainly don’t text him, but you do find his Instagram after drinking one too many glasses of wine and scroll through his pictures. Nico isn’t very active online is what you gather, for his last post was back in May after they got eliminated from the playoffs.

It makes him endearing, much to your displeasure. People glued to their phones and still use Snapchat as their main form of communication irritate you to no end.

Not Nico, though…

He stays on your mind for the entirety of summer, because you just couldn’t get the memory of his eyes out of your head. It panics you a little because it feels like you’re forming a crush, and your last one didn’t exactly bode well for you.

Whatever. It’s just a small, meaningless feeling that just so happens to have stuck. Nico probably wasn’t even going to send you a ticket for opening night.

This is what you tell yourself as September rolls around, the NHL preseason starts, and your stomach sinks deeper and deeper the closer the Devils’ opening night comes.

You’re thinking about him again right now, much to your displeasure, as you finish wiping down one of your stations after your last client of the day left. It was a busy one, and you’re grumpy because your neck hurts from leaning over for so long.

You accidentally knock over your cleaning spray in the midst of your aggressive cleaning, and just as you pick up the bottle there’s a quiet knock on your shop’s door.

“I thought I flipped the closed sign,” you mutter, exiting the room you were just in and walking to the lobby. You’re unable to make out who it is outside, the only striking feature being that they’re tall.

You open the door warily, speaking before they get the chance to. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night. You can come back tomorrow morning or call to book an appointment—”

“I’m not here for a tattoo.” He interrupts you with what sounds like amusement, and you freeze because you would recognize that voice anywhere.

You look up to meet his eyes, and are struck with the same dark brown that’s been haunting your mind for months.

“Nico,” you say, shock written all over your face. You lick your lips, trying to find something to say. “You’re… What are you doing here?”

“I still have the address saved from when Siegs sent it to me,” he admits, aware that’s not what you’re really asking. Facing you now, he finds himself nervous. You hadn’t changed much, except for maybe the addition of another piercing in your right ear, he thinks.

But you were so unlike other strangers he’s met in the past; they know who he is, all about his life, whereas you look at him like you’re not sure what to think.

Nico finds it refreshing. You’re intriguing, someone to figure out—not to mention he really likes your tattoos. And piercings. He fights the urge to trail his fingers up your sleeves to reveal the art decorating your skin.

You’re raising an eyebrow at him, and then he realizes he’s been silent for a good minute while he’s been staring at you. He releases a quick breath, “You still want to come to opening night, right?”

“I do,” you say, foregoing acting coy. Fuck it, you actually did really want to go. “Why? Is there an issue?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he reassures, giving you a quick smile. “I’d just rather explain the ticket situation in person than on text,”

His reasoning sounds understandable to you, but you fail to pick up on why he still seems so nervous. It’s just a ticket to a game, right?

“So since it’s just you,” he starts, hesitantly. “You’ll be sitting with, um. You’ll be in the wives and girlfriends section.”

Truthfully, Nico wouldn’t be shocked if you decline after hearing where you’ll be sitting. He himself probably would have, because who, as a stranger, wants to sit with the players’ significant others?

He watches your reaction, holding his breath. But all you do is laugh a little, shrug nonchalantly even though internally you’re shitting your pants.

“Okay, but you do know I’m neither a wife nor a girlfriend,” of you, you want to add, but keep that last part to yourself. Even though over the course of these last few months your mind definitely imagined it.

Your expression is teasing, the corner of your lips quirked up into a small smirk that has the tension falling from Nico’s shoulders. You aren’t mad. This is a start.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish. “I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that,” he mumbles lowly, meeting your eyes. If you look closely you think you can see a rosy hue covering his cheeks.

“It’s just one game, yeah?” You muse, secretly pleased at the fact that he’s the nervous one this time, not you. “Nothing wrong with that,”

Nico lets out a breathless laugh, relieved knowing you won’t be caught off guard when you come to the opening game in October.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Nothing wrong with that all.”

He stays for a few more minutes after that, your conversation surprisingly pleasant with little awkwardness as you shyly ask about his stay back home, and he gladly expresses his joy at being back in Switzerland for a few months.

His unabashed enthusiasm to share his life with you catches you off guard, but you find that you like learning these little things about him. It defeats your whole purpose of not letting yourself get close to him, but you push that worry to the back of your mind for later.

Nico does eventually leave, but not before giving you a hug that leaves your heart racing. One of his hands came to rest respectfully at the small of your back, and you could have sworn you felt his lips brush your cheek before he pulled away.

“See you soon,” he had grinned, his eyes dark and enthused.

Feeling corny and rather irritated with yourself, your fingers brush the spot on your cheek, swearing you could still feel the heat of his lips.

You still don’t hear from Nico even after his visit, and you’re once again struck by the fact that you still can't tell what his intentions are. You find yourself checking your phone anyway, going so far as to stalk his Instagram. Again.

This is most definitely becoming a bad habit. A very bad one. You think to yourself as, one day, you find yourself staring at your screen once more, weeks having gone by with the brown eyed boy still on your mind.

With another client in just over two hours, you find yourself using the break to get some work done on your laptop at the desk in the lobby of your shop. You aren’t very productive, but it makes you feel better about your wandering imagination being so distracting.

Just having happened to save a finished spreadsheet of your recent clients and their pricing, a man is pushing open the door to your shop. You quickly determine that it’s some type of delivery based on the package he carries before he drops it onto your counter.

He reads out your name from a paper, glancing up at you for confirmation of your identity. “Yes, that’s me,” you say, eyeing the unknown sender label. “Do you know who sent this?” You haven’t placed any orders recently, so it isn’t something from you.

The mailman shakes his head, giving you a polite smile before wishing you a good rest of your day. You wave to him offhandedly as he exits the shop, and then find a pair of scissors to carefully cut through the tape holding the box shut.

As if you’re opening Pandora’s box, you’re wary as you unfold the cardboard, your fingers brushing against thick fabric before carefully taking it out.

Unfolded and spread out across your desk, you freeze. You’re lucky no one else is here in the front to see you because your face is a deep shade of tomato red, and you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

Before you lay a jersey for the New Jersey Devils, and you know even before turning it over that it has Nico Hischier’s surname and number printed on the back.

As you’re staring at the jersey in awe, your fingers trailing over the brand new and surely expensive fabric, your phone pings with a new message.

It’s from a number you’d memorized months ago even though you’d never once used it to communicate. A text from Nico Hischier greets you as you unlock your phone.

UPS sent me a notification that the package I sent you arrived. I hope you like it. Looking forward to seeing you next month :)

“Oh, he’s good,” you say out loud, your smile growing even wider if that were possible. Your heart’s tempo picks up, and your fingers fly across the keyboard to respond.

You’re still not sure what he’s about—what are his plans here? Does he like you? Is he flirting for fun or does he have intentions to go forward?

You try not to overthink it as you finalize your response, pressing send soon after.

I just got it. I have to say, you’re bold. I guess I have no choice but to wear it now considering how much it probably cost you.

As if he were waiting for a response, a new message appears almost instantly.

It’s no big deal. Really. Just want to make your first game a memorable one. I’ll sign the jersey for you, too.

Careful, hot shot, I might start thinking you have other intentions here.

You wouldn’t be wrong.

September passes quickly, and before you know it October 12 is here and you’re nervously walking through Prudential Center to the section your seat is in.

You don’t stick out as much as you think you do, which is relieving because everyone around you is too focused on getting to their own seats and discussing the game.

You know you don’t fit the typical bill of someone coming to support a professional hockey player, considering what you think you are to Nico is… Complicated.

Your arms are covered in small but meaningful tattoos, and your ears are decorated with piercings along with the lone stud on your nose. You wouldn’t think someone like Nico would find it all attractive about you, but he’s said so numerous times over call and text.

You think about said communication as you finally sit down, a good thirty minutes before the game starts because nobody else is around you yet.

After Nico sent you his jersey, it’s like the floodgates opened from whatever was holding the two of you back from talking. Despite your reservations, he enraptured you from the get-go and you just couldn’t stop yourself from falling.

Nico is a really good texter, surprisingly. None of the lower case bullshit or long response times you’d expect from a sports player, but instead the exact opposite.

He doesn’t give you the feeling of talking to a child, an immature man who doesn’t know what he wants; in the time spent between him first using your number and going to the game, you’ve noticed how his responses are thought out and intentional. He responds quickly, but not too quickly to make you think he doesn’t have a career to focus on, and he makes you smile when he adds those cute smiley faces after the end of his texts.

You think you’re enjoying Nico Hischier a little too much to be normal, but you choose not to focus on that as you’re greeted by an unknown woman tapping your shoulder.

“Hi!” She says, giving you a welcoming smile that instantly puts you at ease. “Nico said he invited someone to come tonight. And Jonas,” she adds the last part like it was an afterthought, then gives you a slightly apologetic look. “He didn’t have time to tell us your name, so he just said to look for piercings and tattoos. I’m assuming that’s you?”

You’re not offended by others using your slightly unconventional looks to point you out; you’re proud of all of your piercings and the ink decorating your skin. You wouldn’t be you without them.

Slightly overwhelmed at the amount of words that just spewed from her mouth, though, you hide it well as you damper your nerves to respond. “Hi. Yeah, um, that’s me. They both - Nico and Jonas - really wanted me to come tonight.” You don’t include the fact that it was all Nico who sent you the ticket, showed up at your shop, and had been texting you nonstop for the past month.

The woman grins, seemingly relieved she had the right person. “Nico never brings anyone around so we were all pretty excited to meet you. I’m Natalie, Jonas’ girlfriend, by the way.”

Natalie is the exact type of girl you’d be expecting to date a professional hockey player. She’s blonde with a lithe figure, bright blue eyes and a face that could be on the front page of a magazine. She fits in with this crowd, not you, but you try not to let that bother you as you focus on her being the woman who makes one of your good clients happy.

Jonas has mentioned his girlfriend numerous times before, singing nothing but praises, and he’s even shown you a picture. Now that she’s in front of you, you instantly recognize her.

“I thought I recognized you,” you say. “I’m Jonas’ tattoo artist, he talks about you all the time,” maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but. Siegs wouldn’t mind. You were buttering him up to the ‘love of his life’, after all.

“He’s mentioned you too, oh my gosh, now it’s all clicking!” Natalie instantly gasps, sliding into the seat next to you. “You’re crazy talented. All of his tattoos are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you grin, a little bashful. “He’s a great guy. I enjoy working with him.”

Natalie smiles back, and soon the two of you are joined by the rest of the WAG’s as the puck drop grows closer. Just as you’re about to pull out your phone, Natalie has seemingly managed to break free from whoever she was talking to.

“So, how do you know Nico? Jonas didn’t mention much about you coming, it was mostly Neeks who asked us to greet you,”

Neeks? You file that nickname away for later, and then your face grows red because you’re not sure how to answer her question.

“We actually met because of Jonas, funny enough. He was getting his wrist shaded, right after they got eliminated from the playoffs, and he asked Nico to come pick him up from my shop when it was done.”

“I remember,” Natalie says. “We were flying to Switzerland right after he was done. Sorry, you can continue,”

“You’re good,” you chuckle. “But yeah, then Jonas mentioned how I’d never been to a game, and Nico is who managed to convince me to come tonight.” You keep it simple, vague. No need to provide a complicated answer, mostly because you didn’t know how to reply without making it seem like you and Nico hadn’t been flirting for weeks now.

She looks like she’s about to say something, but suddenly the lights are dimming and an announcer is speaking, his loud voice booming throughout the arena. The next thing you know the lights are coming back on full blast, the puck is dropped, and ten hockey players are whipping across the ice at lightning speed.

Holy shit, you want to say, the sounds of screaming fans and players slamming against the boards rather overwhelming to you but in a good way. It has your blood pumping, and while you don’t understand much of anything - like why the refs blow the whistle randomly or what certain penalties mean - you find that you’re having a good time with Natalie keeping you company, explaining things as they occur.

“That Red Wings player is going into the box which means they’re down a player, and—oh, look, there’s Nico!” She’s pointing to the ice, and you have to squint to follow her line of sight, but you quickly recognize the Swiss captain’s profile and fight the muscles in your face from breaking into a smile.

Alas, you end up losing that battle as a grin manages to fight its way onto your face anyway. You know he can’t see you from so far up, but you like to think he tries as the Jumbotron focuses on him and catches his eyes peering up into the general direction of where you’re seated.

To downplay your excitement at spotting him, you ask, “What’s Jonas’ number?”

“Seventy-one,” Natalie answers, about to say something else, but interrupts herself as she along with almost every other fan in the arena jumps up out of their seats to shout obscenities at the referees.

Yeah, you think to yourself, comically scared of the aggression these hockey fans show for their team. This will take some getting used to.

Almost three hours later, the Devils manage to secure the win for their first game of the season. They almost blew it, or that’s what you hear from others around you, but you’re just glad to have something to congratulate Nico for when you go to meet him outside the locker room.

Speaking of, you along with the other WAG’s are walking down there right now, and your nerves from before the game are coming back full-force, stomach-twisting, vomit-inducing and all.

You’re standing next to Natalie as she talks with two other girls, and you’re content to just listen because your nerves aren’t allowing you to do anything else.

Then, as if the universe were tuned into your thoughts, the locker room doors open and multiple Devils players come streaming out. They’re freshly showered, back in the suits they arrived at the arena in, and you don’t even bother to hide your eagerness as you look for Nico in the crowd.

You spot Jonas first, though, as he catches sight of Natalie and bounds over to her with open arms. “Good game,” you think she says, then says something even quieter and that’s when Jonas sees you standing next to them.

He says your name in shock before a broad smile stretches over his face. “You came!” And then he’s also bringing you into a hug, looking all too happy to have some of his favorite people surrounding him.

“I did,” you laugh, pulling back after a moment. “It was really fun to watch. I’m glad you guys won,” you kind of wince at the end, knowing their win was shaky at best, but he looks like he appreciates the humor all the same.

“Yeah, we are too,” he says, then looks as if he just remembered something. “Nico was coming out right behind me, and—oh, there he is! Neeks!” He calls his captain’s name abruptly, and you swivel around to see Nico Hischier in the flesh heading towards you.

“There you are with the nickname again,” Nico chuckles as he approaches, then embraces his friend as if they didn’t just see each other a minute ago.

When he pulls back, his eyes quickly find yours, and unlike the first time you met there’s no awkwardness as Nico gives you a wide grin before wrapping his arms around you.

“You came,” he says into the top of your hair, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you time to speak before he’s pulling back only slightly, enough to see your face from below peering up at him.

You take in the sight of him above you, rendered speechless as this image of him smiling so happily will likely replay in your memory forever. Nico is pure ecstasy, delight incarnate as those dark brown eyes likely have you painted in a way you could never see yourself in.

Finally finding your words, you duck your head for a moment, embarrassed at the blush you know is on your cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it,” you say, referring to the game. “You played great, Neeks,”

Nico playfully leans back, lightly groaning at hearing you tease his nickname. “I should’ve known they’d say that in front of you,” he sighs, but you can tell it’s in nothing but jest as his smile remains. “Thank you, though,”

And now it was his turn to be bashful, as the blood rushes to his cheeks. What a picture you’re sure the two of you were; both pairs of hands still holding the other and equally flustered expressions on your faces. You find that you don’t mind the contact, though, despite having a slight aversion to touch. Nico’s warmth is comforting, and you rather like being close to him.

It’s not until Jonas coughs loudly from behind you that you and Nico finally release your hold on one another, and you turn to see he and Natalie looking at the two of you with barely contained excitement.

You meet Nico’s eyes, both of you struggling to hide your laughs at Jonas and Natalie’s failed poker faces. “Nice assist, Siegs,” you say to break the lingering tension, and the four of you come together like you’d all been close friends for years.

As you’re all leaving the arena through the exit the players use, Jonas and Nico walk ahead of you, exchanging teasing words and lighthearted insults, while you and Natalie watch from behind.

“So,” Natalie chirps, looking at you expectantly. “What do you think?”

You’re not dumb. You know she’s asking about Nico, thinking this is the first time you’ve talked to him since you first met him at your tattoo shop.

“Hockey? Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” you say, snickering when she sighs at your avoidance. “I’ll have to go to more games.”

“Not about hockey, about Nico,” Natalie says, whispering his name as if it’s taboo. “We aren’t blind. That was a long hug, and Nico literally never brings anyone here. Ever.”

“Technically, Jonas offered to bring me to a game first,”

The spunky blonde ignores you, offhandedly waving her arm. “Semantics. He also keeps turning around to look at you. Like right now.”

What? You instantly look ahead and see she’s right, your eyes meeting Nico’s. His face turns red as he sends you a shy smile, and then he turns back to Jonas who is still talking beside him.

Natalie observes the interaction, a small grin on her face. “You’ve both been talking long before now, haven’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” you chuckle bashfully, slightly embarrassed your interactions allow her to pick up on your chemistry so quick. She shrugs, increasing her stride to stand in front of you as you reach their cars. “A little. But I’ve known Nico for a bit now, he’s a good guy. He likes you, too, I think.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before Jonas is wrapping an arm around Natalie’s waist, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “We gotta get going, yeah? Early morning tomorrow,”

Nico’s hand is brushing against your arm as he moves to your side, unable to tell if the resulting shiver from his touch is from the slight chill in the air or just him. “We have a game in Arizona, a back-to-back,” he clarifies, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you say. “That sucks.”

“Not this time. I’ll have plenty of good things to think about on the flight.” He winks at you, perfectly implying what those ‘good things’ are.

Your face turns red just as Jonas pretends to gag. “That would be our sign to leave. Right, babe?” He attempts to lead his girlfriend away, but Natalie suddenly gasps and runs back to you.

“I forgot to get your number,” she says, thrusting her phone into your hands. “We’re definitely hanging out again.” And, well, okay then. Who are you to deny her?

Jonas and Natalie drive away in his fancy sports car, which leaves you to walk Nico to his own. It’s quiet between the two of you, comforting because you’re both content to revel in each other’s company. Your hands occasionally brush - purely Nico’s fault - until he gathers the bravery to lace your fingers together just as you approach his car.

He doesn’t drop your hand, not even as he turns to face you once you come to a stop. “You have a ride home?”

You shrug sheepishly. No, you hadn’t really thought that far. “I was just planning on ubering…”

Nico scoffs, as if the very thought offends him. “Yeah, no. I’ll drive you home.” At the apprehensive look on your face, his confidence wavers slightly, and he mindlessly rubs his thumb over your hand to calm his own nerves. “If you’re okay with it, of course,”

Why does he have to be so cute? You give in instantly, the tension melting from your bones as, boldly, you use his grip on your hand to tug him closer. “That would be great, Nico, thank you.”

While his car, like Jonas’, is also expensive, you feel comfortable surrounded by the dark material and the scent of Nico’s cologne. The radio is playing softly, and he’s humming along quietly while strumming the fingers of his hand on the steering wheel. His other is resting on the gear shift, but you can tell by the way his hand keeps twitching that he wants to move it closer to you.

If you’ve learned anything about Nico within the weeks that you’ve been talking to him, it’s that he is huge on physical touch. He said it over text, but in person it’s even more obvious because his hands are rarely to himself when he’s next to you.

As the minutes go by, you finally give in to his body’s desire with a laugh as you reach over to tangle your hands together, now resting in your lap. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you liked touching, were you?”

Even with the darkness surrounding him, you can easily spot the maroon flush blooming across his cheeks. He briefly looks to you, unable to hide his grin before turning his attention back to the road. “No,” he laughs, gripping your hand reflexively like he’s testing out the contact. “I wasn’t.”

You’re both significantly more loose after you give in to your want for the other, and the rest of the ride is silent save for the occasional song lyrics mumbled by Nico. Almost too quickly he’s pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, and you’re disappointed when your hands release as you climb out of the car.

“Can I walk you to your door?”

“Sure.”

Like the car ride, the walk to your apartment is comfortably silent, and this time Nico doesn’t hesitate when taking your hand. He smiles when you shiver, but doesn’t say anything which you appreciate.

The elevator is stopping at your floor almost too soon, and you find yourself not wanting the night to end. You’re enjoying his company far too much, and you really like holding his hand. Imagining yourself doing this on a regular basis is overwhelming and definitely freaks you out a little once you come to a stop at your door.

“Here I am,” you chuckle, a little awkwardly. So… What do you do now? Thank him? Hug him? Kiss him?

You go to say something, anything… But Nico beats you to it. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I couldn’t see you from the ice, but I liked trying to pretend I could see you watching me.” He winks, then, and you don’t bother denying that yes, you were watching him the entire time.

You still try to be humble, though. “Thank you for getting me a ticket,” you say, trying to decide how forward you should be. His eyes sparkle, though, as you talk, like he can’t get enough of your voice… “All the girls were nice. Welcoming. It was fun pretending I was one of them.”

“I want you to be,” Nico blurts, almost breathless. “‘One of them’, that is. I think I like you,” he laughs like he can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

You’re unable to take your eyes off him, those dark brown of his bearing into you. The color is warm, just like Nico because he reminds you of a summer day and if he's the sun, then you’re a mere leaf desperately searching for his light.

“I think I like you too,” you admit, a little quieter, a little shy. You still don’t like being touched, but as his hands come to cup your cheeks you decide that you do like the feel of his calloused skin against yours, and then he’s dipping his head to capture your lips in a kiss you don’t know you’ve been waiting for.

You melt instantly, sighing into his mouth with relief. Nico’s kisses are long and smooth, and you’re happy to let him lead before he’s pulling back all too soon, his beard scruff leaving the skin around your lips burning pleasantly.

Fluttering eyes open, leaving you with the distinct feeling of coming up from underwater. Nico looks just as elated as you feel, gazing at you from dark brown eyes filled with adoration. His thumb runs across your bottom lip, and then he’s stepping back respectfully.

“I’ll call you when I get back to my place, yeah?” He says, and you’re glad he seems just as eager to continue talking as you are.

“Yeah, that… That works,” English has left your head, and you stumble over what to say next. Nico has left you speechless, literally. “Drive safe.”

He flashes you a blinding smile, and then disappears back into the elevator.

“Oh fuck,” you say to the emptiness of the corridor. “Fuck. I’m so fucked.”

Nico calls you when he gets home, just like he said he would. He also calls you the day after that and the day after that, and when he can’t call because of a game or practice or whatever, he’s texting you.

You’re swept up in the world of Nico Hischier; his friends have become your (albeit, surface) friends, Natalie has taken you under her wing, and as the weeks go by you’re regularly attending games in the WAG section.

There’s no label on your relationship, and while you like that you’re taking this slow, there's still this desire to kiss him in front of everyone after a game won, to show the hockey world that this man, this man right here is yours.

You don’t act on it, though, as much as you may want to. You have this fear that because your appearance isn’t so conventional, that Nico would get hate for being seen with you. Everyone around you subtly hints that this fear of yours is irrational, but you know better.

As the new year comes and goes - it’s the best way you’ve spent new years in forever because Nico kisses you right as the clock strikes twelve, under the flashing lights and his cheering teammates around you - the Devils’ season continues to dominate. They’re projected to make the playoffs again, and you’re going to just about every game now to show your support.

What you don’t realize is that the fans’ scrutiny of the players only grows the closer the end of the regular season comes, and their attention also shifts to the significant others. WAG playoff jackets are apparently a thing, and you hear from Natalie how the designs for this year are already in the works.

Nico hinted one night that he wanted you to wear one by mentioning he can’t wait to see you when they’re in the playoffs. You gave him a slight look of suspicion because he said it in a way like he’s anticipating something, but he only shrugged cheekily when you tried prying.

Everything comes to an ugly head, though, when you discover hockey Twitter. You’ve obviously known of the app, but you only download it when you hear how the hockey coverage is extensive and you decide you want to keep up with all NHL news more easily.

That’s when you stumble across a term called ‘puck bunnies’, and how there are accounts dedicated to the players’ dating lives with information as trivial as who they’re being spotted with.

Anxiety takes control one night when you’re scrolling through a gossip page, and you succumb to the urge to search Nico’s name. To your horror, there are posts mentioning how a new person (you) has joined the WAG’s at games, and fans have spotted him leaving with this new person consistently.

You can’t find anything mentioning your identity, but you do find criticisms of your appearance. A lot of them. And, really, you knew this was going to happen, it was just a matter of when. The thought doesn’t comfort you, though, as your stomach drops when past girlfriends of Nico are brought up.

They’re all blondes, the occasional brunette, too. Of course they are. You figure anyways that part of the reason you were so intriguing to him to begin with is because you’re so unlike anyone he’s ever dated before. It still doesn’t make you feel better.

You have unconventional piercings, tattoos and quite a lot of them, and you don’t have the money to splurge on expensive clothing like these models do. A word a lot of these hateful posts use is ‘downgrade’, and your insecurities start to agree.

Why does Nico even like you? What do you have that these other girls don’t? From the looks of it, you’re the first of, well, you that he’s ever dated.

You hate it. You hate all of it. Twitter, stupid puck bunnies (how demeaning, too?), your incredibly strong feelings for Nico, and the thought that you aren’t good enough for him.

Now, what you should be doing is calling him. Hell, even Natalie. You know you need to talk to someone about what you’ve found, get some reassurance that the online gossip is purely just that: gossip.

But, well, you’ve never been reasonable. Anxiety and overthinking has ruled your life since you could talk. Instead, you stay silent, stew in your self-loathing and scroll through more of the disgusting Twitter thread.

You let these strangers’ words get to you, their biting insults swimming around in the back of your mind over the next few days all while everyone else is none the wiser.

Especially Nico, who thinks everything is fine until it isn’t. He’s busy with the team, leading with a grace only a captain could possess, and playing his heart out every game to ensure their spot in the postseason. He thinks your distance is because you know how busy he is and simply just don’t want to bother him.

Which, he appreciates you respecting his career, but your shortened responses, curt replies, and frequent denials to come to his games start to signal warning sirens in his head. You aren’t an open book by any means, but this… Nico finds it startling. He knows something is wrong.

So he pries. He texts you more than normal, during video reviews where he’s supposed to be paying attention to replays and right after practices, too. One could say he’s being overbearing, and in the midst of all your self-loathing and depressive overthinking, you snap.

Nico had kept texting you, over and over again, asking for your schedule over the next few days along with continuously asking about when you could see him next. Your fingers moved faster than you could think, and then you pressed send on a message you keep telling yourself you don’t regret.

I just don’t have time, Nico, jesus. Let it go.

The read receipt had appeared under the message less than a minute later, and not another text came through. You’d most definitely had a slight mental breakdown, wanted to call him and apologize and kiss away the frown you’re sure is marring his beautiful lips, but you try convincing yourself it’s for the best.

You don’t deserve all the good that Nico Hischier brings into your life. He’s far too good for you—everyone else seems to think so, too.

And so, that’s that. Nico doesn’t text you anymore and you certainly don’t text him. You’d burned that bridge with no hesitation, and any sparks that were growing between you are certainly extinguished now. This is what you tell yourself, anyways, even as you still can’t stop yourself from tuning into the Devils games over the next few days.

You throw yourself into your work, even more than before. You switch around scheduling for different clients, place multiple sessions right after the other so the buzz of your tattoo gun is too loud for you to think of anything else.

It works, for a time. But you can only do it for so long, and it doesn’t stop you from watching recaps of Nico nor does it keep you from noticing how off-kilter he seems. You’ve come to realize that whenever the captain is off, so is the rest of the team, and the Devils go on a losing streak over the next two weeks that kills you almost as much as you’re sure it’s killing them.

You still don’t contact him, though. You keep your distance, avoid the bars you know they frequent and dodge Natalie’s attempts at meeting up, too. You’re sure she knows you and Nico aren’t talking, either because of how badly he’s playing or because Jonas told her, and you don’t want to give her an opportunity to pry.

And Nico, well. He’s very obviously a mess. He’s snappy, overwhelmed, angry at the littlest things; he broke his stick against the wall during one practice because Jack had passed him a puck, but Nico botched the play just like everything else in his life, apparently.

A perk about being the captain is that none of his teammates have the guts to come up to him to bluntly ask him what’s wrong. On the other hand, his teammates follow his lead to a T, which means that as a result of his foul mood and horrible playing, their spot in the standings has noticeably suffered.

You don’t leave his head, not when he’s in the middle of a game or lying wide awake in his bed until the early hours of the morning. Many times he contemplates breaking the barrier you’d put between the two of you, to ask what he did and if there’s anything he can do to fix it. Nico thinks it’s his fault, that maybe he came off as too clingy…

He knows of your past, knows you’re so wary to jump into relationships for a reason, and figures he just did something to scare you back into seclusion.

The abrupt silence between the two of you builds, and Nico is so frustrated with himself and with you that when they play a division rival, the Philadelphia Flyers, his pent-up aggravation is released and he plays the best hockey he’s probably ever played before in his life.

Nico has never done drugs, but he’s positive the adrenaline pumping through his veins is similar to the rush of dopamine one would feel right after. He’s high off the elation of winning, and it gives him the courage to finally do something about the mounting irritation from his lack of contact with you.

He leaves the rock as soon as he’s able, breaks a few traffic laws in his haste to get to your shop as quickly as possible. It’s a long shot, showing up this late at night on a Friday, but he knows your habits and he knows you.

As he swerves into a parking spot, his gut tells him he’s right. You’re here. You have to be.

Unfortunately for you, Nico is right. You are, in fact, holed up alone in your shop, postponing the lonely ride to your lonely apartment in place of searching for something to do.

You watched the Devils game in the midst of distracting yourself, because of course you did. You saw how the players’ growing frustration led to pure determination that ultimately secured them the win.

You’re proud of them. Proud of Nico. You want to text him, do something, but… then there’s rapid knocking on the doors, and you’re peeking around the corner to catch a glimpse of the likely drunkard trying to break in.

You’re about to just wave them off, gesture towards the sign hanging on the window you know is switched to close, but the man outside speaks and you’re frozen.

“Please, baby, let me in,” the voice is laced with pure desperation, and oh, now you can see him as clear as day. He mouths your name through the glass, and you don’t have the strength to send him away.

You reluctantly unlock the door, shying away from his touch when he tentatively puts a hand on your arm. Nico is having none of it, though, and quickly grabs your hand to tug you back towards him. He’s had enough of your silence, isn’t going to let you walk away so easily this time.

When you don’t meet his eyes, he lets out a heavy breath, squeezes your hand once, then, “What the fuck is going on?” and you’re still silent, still avoidant, refusing to look up at his face. He says your name, voice anguished as he begs again, “Talk to me, please?”

You dodge his questions. “Why are you here, Nico?”

Nico reads your body language, watches as you refuse to meet his eyes and finally break away from his touch. He realizes he still affects you, and that you pushing him away is purely because you’re in your own head and don’t know how to get out of it

“Did you see my game?” Nico eventually asks, realizing he has to approach this gently, like you’re a wounded animal and in a sense, you are.

You did, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. (He knows, anyway). So you just shrug, pretending to fiddle with the random shit on your desk.

“So that’s a yes,” Nico mutters to himself. Then, he speaks up, louder, so he knows you hear him. “I scored a goal tonight.” he pauses, waits for your reaction.

You look up then, only for a moment, squinting your eyes in what looks to be a glare. “Congratulations.”

The way you look at him screams paranoid, insecure, and suddenly Nico is hit with the memory of a conversation he had with a fan a few days ago. She was young, in her early teens and certainly not out of highschool so he didn’t take her gossip too seriously, but…

“You guys are so cute!” he remembers her squealing, shoving her phone in his face. It was a blurry picture of the two of you holding hands walking out of the arena, that much he remembers. “Everyone’s hating on them online but they’re all just jealous you’re taken now.”

Nico had been signing her jersey when she said that. He raised an eyebrow, was tuning her out slightly. “Hating? On Twitter? Shocking,” he had laughed. “Does anyone take them seriously?”

The girl - whose name he now doesn’t remember - had shrugged. “A few obsessed people, yeah. Don’t go on Twitter if you want to keep your sanity. I’d tell your… friend that, too.”

Except he didn’t. Her words went through one ear and right out the other, and it’s like a halo of light just lit up his head because oh, Nico understands now, and he feels his stomach dropping over the thought that you’ve been living with this for weeks now.

Nico scoffs at your sass but it sounds more like a laugh. He knows what to do, now. “Signed a few fans’ jerseys after the game, and then I remembered an interesting conversation with this one girl a few games back. It was really enlightening. Wanna know what she said?”

You know what’s coming. You’ve already seen what people say about your rumored relationship with Nico, and you think he’s just telling you this to definitively end whatever you started with each other.

Words escape you, but what does manage to come out is a choked up, “Not really”, under your breath.

“She said people talked about us online. Were saying a bunch of bullshit about how you ‘aren’t my type’ and that I’m too good for you. Can you believe that?”

Nico takes a few cautious steps towards you, leans over your desk to gauge your reaction. He sees the light sheen in your eyes, the way your hands tremble as you attempt to look like you aren’t hanging on to his every word.

But Nico sees right through you. He understands immediately, in that moment, why you’re pushing him away, and it breaks his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, softly. “You didn’t think I agreed with them, did you?”

You try to respond, but you cut yourself off by letting out a sob as the overwhelming emotions catch up to you.

Nico immediately rounds the desk, his own eyes tearing up as he wraps his muscular arms around your body in a protective hug. You’re shaking as you bury your head into his neck, spurting apology after apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

“I know,” he shushes, one hand running through your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. “I know. It’s okay,”

“Why don’t you hate me? You should hate me,”

“I could never hate you.”

You don’t let go of Nico, not even as he slides down the wall with you in his arms. It’s behind your desk, so you’re hidden from view. The thought that he did this on purpose so you can break down in peace only makes you cry harder, and yet he doesn’t falter in his comfort.

“Is this why you went silent on me?” He eventually asks, gently, so as to not startle you. “Because of… Twitter?”

You nod imperceptibly, feeling rather embarrassed now that it’s said out loud how much online gossip has bothered you. It wasn’t just because of that, though. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“No, no it’s not. Your feelings aren’t stupid.” He says immediately. “I’m sorry you found those things online. I wish you would’ve told me, or something, that way I could’ve reassured you,”

“I should have,” you say. You almost lost him, this person you care about so deeply. “You scare me so much, though, you know?”

Nico jerks, aghast. “No, no, not like that,” You reassure, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I mean… What I feel for you scares me. Like it’s too good to be true,”

You’re nervous to continue, but then his fingers begin tracing the tattoos on your arms and you shiver because of an entirely new reason, other nerves forgotten.

“And, I don’t know. I guess I was looking for reasons to doubt… Us. Which is wrong, I know. And then I found the Twitter thread, and I let their words confirm what I was already thinking.”

One of his hands trails up the back of your neck, gently massages the skin there for a moment, and is then carefully smoothing over some of your older piercings, admiring how the jewelry looks against your skin. He’s working to calm you down, and it’s working because you then realize you've forgotten how to speak.

“Um,” you swallow, throat dry. “You’re here, though,” you finish lamely, finally meeting his eyes in awe.

“I am.” He affirms. The hand on your arm joins the other to cup your face, and then your eyes flutter shut as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And I’m not going anywhere, yeah? Not unless you tell me to fuck off. ”

“Okay,” you whisper, assured and now content as his arms go back to curling you into his chest. “Okay. Sounds good.” And then a thought strikes you, like the deprivation of his life you’ve been forcing yourself to deal with has had enough. “When’s your next game?”

Nico’s face breaks out into a beautiful smile, one that takes your breath away. “There’s one at home next Thursday,” he says. “I think Natalie might hurt me if I tell her that you’re still too busy, so does this mean you’ll come?”

“Can’t have that now, can we?” you murmur, matching his grin. “But yeah, yeah, I’ll go,” and back to cool nonchalance you go, unable to take the love rushing through you.

Finally, you find the strength to lift yourself off the floor. He immediately grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. As you stand in the middle of your shop, smiling goofily at each other, he looks nervous again, and his thumb smooths over the back of your hand reflexively.

“I’ve missed you,” Nico admits, looking down at you shyly. “Didn’t realize how much I liked having you in my life.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, genuinely upset with yourself for shutting him out. “I missed you too. A lot.”

“So we’re good now, then?” he looks anxious, like he thinks he still did something wrong. “You’ll talk to me next time?”

“We’re good. I’ll talk to you,” you swear. And you’re serious this time. It hurt you just as much as it hurt him to fall out of contact for weeks. Terrifyingly enough, you’re sure it’s because you’re falling in love with him.

You’ll hold back from saying those three words for a little while longer, though.

“So,” you say after a moment. “Catch me up? On everything I missed?”

He grins again, and you think it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. “Can we recap back at my place?” At the suggestive look on your face his face quickly turns red. “I just miss having you in my bed,” he mumbles, and at your laugh just starts dragging you to the door.

“Wait, wait, I need to lock up!” Nico playfully groans, squeezes your hips with a mocking “hurry up” and then you’re running out onto the busy streets of New Jersey like two reckless teenagers looking to elope.

It’s healing, freeing, and dangerous all at once because you can’t stop giggling and Nico can’t stop kissing you, and as you look at his face outlined by the red of a stoplight you think, I could fall in love with him.

You’re sure he’ll catch you when you hit the bottom, too.

A/N: I was planning on including smut but since I wrote this with a gender neutral reader not even I could make that work LMAO regardless, I hope you still enjoyed! I haven’t written a 10k+ fic in a while so I had a lot of fun with this one. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated <3

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

Text

i miss you, i’m sorry - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

summary: you go with your bf to a hockey game; he is unaware of your history with one of the players (please read warnings!)

warnings: abusive bf, violence, strong and derogatory language, angst, a few uses of y/n

word count: 3k

you felt like you hadn’t been able to breathe properly in hours, sitting rigid like a stone next to mike, who’s mood has only deteriorated as the night went on. mike was a diehard coyotes fan, and had brought you to the game with him last minute when his friend had cancelled last minute.

“are you sure none of your other friends would want to go? they would probably have more fun than i would,” you had offered, desperately trying to get out of going.

“they’re all busy,” he replied. “i know you hate hockey, but can you try to have a good time, for me?” he asked sweetly, pulling you into his arms. you weren’t fooled by his tone; you would go and you would enjoy it, you didn’t have a choice.

“okay,” you smiled, and he kissed you softly before going to your shared room to get ready. you sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to make it through this game. you didn’t hate hockey - you used to love it actually, but when you started dating mike you chose to keep that part of your life a secret. it seemed silly at face value, but there was a bigger secret you were hiding from him, and you asked the universe why it had to be the panthers that arizona was playing tonight.

a little less than two years ago, you had dated their star player, matthew tkachuk for almost a year, before the travel and hectic schedule got to be too much for you, and you decided to leave; the hardest thing you had ever done. the relationship had been kept pretty quiet thankfully, no traces of it online except for one or two group photos from when you were together still floating around instagram; though you had done all you could to erase any evidence.

if mike found out, you honestly weren’t sure how he would react; but you knew it wouldn’t be good. you had met mike a few months after you and matthew broke up, and he was nice enough, until he wasn’t. he kept up the good guy just long enough for you to move in and become dependant on him, and suddenly you found yourself trapped. things were okay most of the time, but if he got angry, sometimes you got caught in the crossfire. he had only actually hit you once, but he yelled, and would sometimes grab you too hard, leaving you with bruises to cover before he could see them; he had the audacity to say that they made him upset.

he had been in a good mood when you got to the arena, and you were thankful that your seats weren’t too close to the ice, though you shuddered at the possibility of matthew seeing you in the crowd, despite how slim the chance was. you hadn’t seen him since they day you broke up, and as the familiar head of curly hair came out from the tunnel, skating on to the ice as part of the starting line up, your heart felt like it was being twisted in a vice.

you missed him. you missed your friends on the team, having grown pretty close to some of the guys, as well as their girlfriends. you hadn’t heard from any of them since leaving; it was too hard at first, and then it became a safety concern. any connection to your former life meant more risk of mike finding out about matthew, and that couldn’t happen.

“can you at least look like you want to be here?” mike whispered in your ear, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. you put on a smile, and thankfully it was good enough, as he turned his attention back to the players on the ice.

the game started off a bit slow, however the panthers had a 1-0 lead at the end of the first, and through the second as well. the coyotes were playing pretty rough, getting quite a few penalties for some dirty hits, all while mike cheered them on, booing the refs anytime they called a penalty on arizona. you watched as one of floridas players, nick cousins, ran into one of the coyotes while he was low on the boards, the hit landing on his shoulders or maybe his head, you couldn’t really tell. another coyote skated up and checked nick face first into the boards; hard. he hadn’t been looking that way and had no warning to protect himself, and you watched in distress as he crumbled to the ice, and you were worried he was unconscious.

nick had been one of your closest friends while you were dating matt, and your heart pounded as you watched him struggle to his feet.

“that pussy folded like a piece of paper!” mike laughed, enjoying every second of him getting hit. floridas players jumped on the guy who had laid the hit on nick, defending their fallen teammate as a fight broke out, sending players from each team into the penalty box. mikes mood dropped with each second of the refs deliberating passed, the officials eventually awarding nearly 20 penalty minutes to forsling for florida, as well as enough penalty minutes to arizona to give the panthers a man advantage.

“that’s fucking bullshit!” he screamed, the crowd of arizona fans not happy about the decision either. you said nothing as mike spilled some of his fourth beer on your lap, just thankful it hadn’t got on his spare coyotes jersey that he had insisted you wear. as the players got ready to continue the game, you looked across the ice, locking eyes with the one person you hoped you could avoid more than anything. something flashed in his eyes as he saw you, but his attention was quickly back to the game as the whistle blew, and soon the second period was over and he was gone down the tunnel for intermission.

the coyotes scored in the third to tie the game, but the panthers got the lead back, scoring twice in close succession. matthew looked to you after putting the puck in the net, and it took everything in you to ignore him. mike was livid at this point, the alcohol not helping in the slightest, and you cringed internally as he grabbed your hand, holding it way too tight.

forsling finally came out of the penalty box after serving 17 minutes, and immediately scored an empty netter, solidifying a 4-1 victory for florida. with 2 minutes left in the game, mike dragged you out to the concession area. matthews eyes noticed your empty seats, and his heart dropped, wondering if he had imagined you even being there in the first place.

downstairs, mike pushed you against the brick wall next to the restroom.

“wait here. i gotta piss before we leave,” looking at the long lineup already formed outside the men’s room. the arena was small, and there were limited washrooms, so you had a feeling this was gonna take a while, but you dared not move from your spot against the wall.

you could hear the final buzzer go, and the florida players began walking out from ice level, and you realized that they had to walk through the main area to get to the visitors locker room, and your blood ran cold. most of the panthers paid no mind to you, but you held your breath as you saw matthew approaching, praying that he ignored you like the others had.

he thankfully didn’t say anything, but your eyes locked for the second time that night as he passed by, disappearing down the hall and into the locker room. your foot tapped anxiously on the floor, grinding a small piece of gravel under your shoe as you willed mike to hurry the fuck up.

10 minutes went by, and you exhaled in relief as he finally appeared, not even caring about the death grip he took on your wrist as he literally dragged you behind him towards the exit.

“y/n?” a familiar voice called, and you hoped with all you had that mike would ignore it and keep walking. “wait- y/n.” mike stopped, causing you to bump into his back with how fast you were following behind him. he turned around, and you were sure he was quite confused as to why matthew tkachuk was calling after you.

“what the hell do you want?” mike asked, looking matt up and down before turning to you, still holding you tight. “do you know this asshole?”

“no, let’s go home,” you pleaded, but he wasn’t budging.

“you got the wrong girl.” mike shrugged. “shouldn’t you be circle jerking with the other guys in the locker room right now?” he spat, still bitter about his team losing the game.

“i told them to start without me,” matthew joked dryly, and you could feel his eyes on you, however yours were glued to the floor.

“funny,” mike replied. “let’s go,” he pushed you in front of him to leave.

“wait, y/n - please.”

“i’m sorry, you have the wrong person.”

“yeah, chucky,” mike laughed. “you must be thinking of some other whore. i’m sure there’s a lot of desperate chicks around here that would suck your cock though, so stop talking to mine.”

“you really shouldn’t talk about women like that,” matthew threatened, and while his tone sounded calm, you knew he was furious.

“or what? what, you want to fight or something?” mike asked. you noticed a few people gathering to watch, either out of concern or just to see matthew, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“baby, can we please just-“

“shut up!” he shoved you and you fell to the floor, landing hard on your ass, before punching matthew in the face. matthew swung a fist at mikes face, hitting him square in the jaw. your eyes widened in horror as mike swung more drunken punches back at matt, and people backed away from the fight. you looked down the hall to see a familiar face, and you called out to your former friend.

“carter!” his eyes snapped up from his phone and he took out an airpod before he noticed the fight, and he quickly pulled matthew off of mike with the help of security guards that had come to help break up the situation. you stared at the ground in front of you again, feeling like the room was spinning and wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you. security handcuffed mike and escorted him out of the building, while carter and another security officer took matthew back down the hall towards the locker room.

an officer asked you to come with him, and he took you to an empty office room to take a statement about what happened. you just hoped matthew wouldn’t get in too much trouble.

•

when you left the office, there were thankfully little to no fans left in the arena, the hallways eerily empty as you walked towards the door. before you could reach it though, something - or someone - made you pause. you looked back down the hall to the locker room, and with a sigh walked towards it. you knocked on the door, your heart hammering against your ribcage as it opened, one of the team staff looking at you.

“i’m sorry, you can’t be back here-“

“it’s fine. she’s a friend,” carter interrupted her, opening the door to let you in. the room was empty, the team having already left, and you forced yourself to look at carter.

“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded.

“thank you. i’m sorry-“

“don’t, it’s not your fault.” he opened his arms and you fell into them, hugging him tightly. “chuckys just getting patched up in the medic room. mostly procedure that they have to check him after a fight - usually it only happens during a game though,” he joked, and you found yourself smiling for real for the first time that night.

“is he in a lot of trouble?”

“no more than he normally gets himself into. it’ll be fine, y/n,” he assured you, but you were still worried there might be some legal repercussions. deciding there was nothing you could do about that right now, you managed to push the thought away and sat down on a bench in the locker room.

“you waiting around for him?” verhaeghe asked, and you nodded, eyes on the floor again.

“yeah. i think i’d be a shitty person not to.”

“you could never be a shitty person,” he smiled. “we miss you. chucky especially.” you looked up at him sadly.

“i miss you guys too.”

the medic door opened with a creak, and matthew walked out. you kept your eyes on your feet, counting the laces on your shoes over and over again.

“i’ll see you later,” carter said goodbye to both of you before leaving the room. you didn’t dare look up as matthew walked over slowly and sat down next to you, leaving space between you as his gaze lingered on you.

“you waited,” he said softly.

“yeah…. i don’t think i should have, but i wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“you wanted to make sure i was okay?” he laughed softly. “yeah, i’m okay.” he said, and an awkward silence filled the room. “was he always like that?” he asked gently, and you shook your head sadly.

“nope,” you said bitterly, eyes growing wet with tears. “he was perfect at first. until he wasn’t.”

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. it’s not your fault.”

“i still am. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you didn’t reply, knowing he was right. “y/n, you haven’t even looked at me.” he hand touched yours on the bench next to you, his touch so soft and gentle it was unfamiliar.

you turned your head towards him, and his heart broke at your sad expression. his lip was split open, red and forming a bruise already. you reached for his face without thinking, pulling your hand back before you went too far.

“what do you want me to say?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. with the carefulness of someone touching glass, he brushed it off your face, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.

“do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asked, somewhat ignoring your question. he didn’t want you to say anything, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

“i can figure something out,” you said, going through the options in your head; likely a hotel or sleeping in your car.

“please, i would feel a lot better if i knew you were somewhere safe. i have an extra bed in my hotel room-“

“no, matthew. i can’t do this.”

“do what?” he asked.

“this,” you gestured between the two of you. “thank you for protecting me, but i can’t let myself be near you. it’s too hard.”

“please,” his blue eyes looking in yours. the smell of his cologne wafted to your nose, filling you with a sense of safety that only he could ever bring you.

“okay,” you nodded.

•

the drive to the hotel was short and silent, but you felt at ease for the first time all night. the more time you spent with him, the more it felt like no time had passed; like things were back to how they were before. matthew held your hand the whole drive, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of it gently, his touch like a feather.

you got up to the hotel room and he grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase for you.

“you a coyotes fan now?” he teased, and you laughed. matthew hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound, but did he would do anything to hear it again and again.

“not by choice,” you laughed, pulling mikes jersey over your head, putting the t-shirt over your undershirt you had on.

“did he know about -“

“no,” you shook your head, dropping the jersey in the small garbage can, and matthew cracked a smile. “he probably wouldn’t have liked it very much.”

“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to -“

“it’s okay. i know. how’s your lip?” you asked, still feeling guilty about it.

“it’s not my first split lip. i’ll live,” he smiled.

“is nick okay?” you asked, remembering the nasty hit during the game.

“he wasn’t feeling too hot after that. i’m not sure yet,” he admitted, and you nodded, before covering your mouth as a yawn slipped past your lips. “come on, sleepyhead, let get you to bed.”

you nodded, dragging your exhausted body into the nearest of the two queen sized beds. matthew tucked you into bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you reached for his hand before he could walk away.

“lay with me?” you asked sleepily, knowing it was selfish to use him as a safety net right now; but you felt you would fall apart without him.

“are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded. he crawled into bed next to you, letting you cling to him like a life raft. “you’re safe now. i won’t let anyone hurt you, baby, i promise.”

“i know, matty,” you snuggled into him, everything about him bringing you comfort you hadn’t felt since you left; his scent, his voice, the feeling of his arms around you. “i missed you.”

“god, i missed you to. i don’t want to let you go again.”

“please don’t,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears that fell onto the fabric of his shirt, your fingers gripping it so tight your knuckles hurt. “don’t let me go.”

“i won’t.”

you felt like you were dreaming; what had started as a nightmare turning into the first time you had felt safe in months. you were scared that you would wake up and it hadn’t been real - you would be next to mike in his apartment, the cold draft from the window on your side of the bed would prickle you skin like it always did and you would have to apologize for not having his lunch ready for work.

but instead you would wake up in the arms of someone who actually cared about you, the sun peeking through the cracks of the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin. along with it, matthew brought a light to your life that had been missing for so long, you thought it was lost for good.

matthew pressed another soft kiss to your forehead as you felt yourself falling asleep, knowing you were protected as long as he was next to you.

“thank you matty,” you murmured, barely awake as you nose brushed the side of his jaw, your face tucked into the crook of his neck.

“anything for you.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #real person fiction #nhl players #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matty tkachuk #matthew tkachuk #tkachuk #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey player #hockey #florida #panthers #florida panthers

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itsjusthockey · 4 months

Text

A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

531 notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 3 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

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

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #hockey au #neighbor au #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

330 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 2 months

Text

Long Time Coming | Jeremy Swayman

summary: you’ve been in love with each other for years, so surely you guys have picked up on it by now

request: yes/no

warnings: mild swearing?

word count: 2.21k

authors note: this is my first time writing for any of the bruins players and I have to say that this is really one of my favourites that I have written in a while. This is the softness we all deserved before I get to something a little more fiery tomorrow for valentines day!

It was a friendship that was never meant to work.

Jeremy was a popular hockey player and you were a journalism major who preferred spending her time in the library as opposed to the dorms. You swore that the hockey team on campus was bound to all be irritating but when you ended up in a class with Jeremy. Surprised to say that you were paired up with a hockey player for your pottery course was an understatement.

But three weeks in to your first semester and you found your random elective quickly becoming your favorite class. The goalie made you feel alive as he brought this spark to your life. His teammates started seeing less of him at parties and they were confused until they finally met you.

Jeremy spent weeks convincing you to finally come to his game. Of course the tale went that when you showed up it was his first shut out game of his college career. Even as the crowd chanted his name, all he wanted was to look for you. It was like clockwork when the boys saw Jeremy lock eyes with you.

That was the first time that the boys realized Jeremy was in love. The way he spun you around, gushing about how you were his lucky charm. It was also the night that seemed to be the turning point in your relationship with Jeremy. He was no longer your classmate, he was your friend and soon to be your best friend.

Years had gone by, Jeremy had made his way to the NHL and you had finally graduated. It was funny how you had grown attached to each other, like the moment you left college you were in Boston. Jeremy had you in the guest bedroom of his apartment which made life tougher than ever.

It was Valentine’s Day and you ended up in his dorm after he revealed that his girlfriend was cheating on him.

Jeremy swore you had never shown up as fast as you did there. The boy didn’t even time to fully open his door before you were in his arms “hey Jer.” You sighed as his body clung to yours “she left me.” Jeremy sobbed as tears streamed down his cheeks.

You rubbed his back desperate to ease his pain “you are better without her.” You mumbled kissing his shoulder as you raked your fingers through his hair “you know I’m not.” Jeremy had spoken to you of how he loved her like she was his world.

The boy huffed into your neck “I brought everything we need tonight.” Your words made him furrow his eyebrows as he pulled away from you “for what?” Jeremy saw the plastic bag in your hand that had a mixed bunch of goods.

You took the opportunity to walk into his room as you shut the door behind you “because we are going to eat our feelings away tonight.” You smiled pulling out two tubs of ice cream knowing that neither one of you were about to share.

Jeremy couldn’t help but smile as he ran his fingers over his jaw “I can’t ask you to stay with me on Valentine’s Day.” He shook his head as it made your lips curl upright “then it’s a good thing that I’m insisting.” You shot back as you held the pint out in his direction.

It was your kindness that Jeremy first fell in love with. The way you would think about giving someone the shirt off of your back if it could help them. Jeremy felt his heart grow full at the way you were always in the TD Garden with young fans helping them get his attention during warm ups and at the end of games.

He had grown so comfortable with you and maybe that was his fault. Everyone treated you like you were his girlfriend because you were his partner. You might not have been his romantically but in life you were clearly his.

That’s why it was so surprising to see you in your room getting ready for a date “you look nice.” Jeremy let his bag drop to the floor as he had come home from practice “thank you.” You smiled plumping your lips together as it coated your lipstick around your lips.

The hockey player had to admit that he was confused as he leaned against the wall “do you think that he will like it?” You asked as you did a little spin letting him see your outfit in full. It was a blue dress that looked perfect on your skin as the springtime came in “you look perfect.” Jeremy nodded as he felt his chest pang “he?” The boy repeated your words as he froze.

Watching you grab your phone from your table you rolled your eyes “remember when I told you I was going out with Taylor for lunch.” You motioned to the calendar that had the date and time that you were meant to see him “I didn’t know that Taylor was a dude!” Jeremy’s words brought a scoff to your lips as you crossed your arms.

He was quick to mentally curse himself as he saw you furrow your eyebrows “why does the gender of my date matter to you?” You cocked your head pressing your finger against his chest “because.” It seemed that in that moment all Jeremy wanted was to tell you that he loved you yet he had all but forgotten how to talk.

Your foot tapped against the wooden flooring as you awaited an answer “you want to give me an answer?” You watched him practically crawl back into himself as he sighed “have a nice night Jeremy.” He gasped at the feeling of your shoulder hitting his as you walked straight to the front door not giving him a chance to talk.

Jeremy was left wallowing in his emotions as he stared at the different pictures of you two that lived in his phone. The time he surprised you by making it to your graduation, the time you were there for his NHL debut. Even the picture of you two at one of his teammates weddings when Jeremy was caught staring at you.

That was the day when his current teammates realised that Jeremy was in love with you “you will not believe it!” You groaned as you slammed the door behind you “you’re home early.” The boy mumbled going quiet as he was met with a glare.

Jeremy frowned as he watched you collapse onto the couch next to him “think he wanted to go on a date with you before me.” You complained resting your head on his shoulder “I’m sorry you had a bad date.” The hockey player was quick to wrap his arm around you.

Like always you melted into his touch “no you’re not.” You mumbled feeing him kiss your head “just like that I was right.” Jeremy could have lied but you knew him far too well for the chance to go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but laugh “you’re such an ass.” A giggle left your lips as Jeremy turned to look at you “sorry you let this outfit go to waste on him.” His hand ran along your cheek “you like my outfit.” You batted your eyelashes as you smiled.

Jeremy nodded enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his thumb “like anything you wear.” He mumbled beginning to turn his head to yours. Like clockwork his eyes shut and just as yours did your phone began to ring “shoot.” You groaned seeing your mom’s contact appear on the screen.

It hit the boy like a cold shower as he watched you get up grabbing your phone “hey mom.” You tan your fingers through your hair as you sent Jeremy a sorry look “yeah I can talk.” You nodded along walking back into your room as you began catching her up on the events of your day.

As the evening turned into night and the hours went on, Jeremy didn’t see you again as he had gone to bed. Whilst the lights in the apartment were off both of your minds were active. Truthfully neither one of you remembered what it was like to have your minds this full.

Jeremy stared at the pictures on his phone of you two and he couldn’t help but curse your mom for calling. Especially after you called your mom this cool woman who was your best friend, that was a far cry from what he would have described as a cock block.

What he didn’t know was that you were pacing outside of his door. You hadn’t even noticed but halfway through your phone call with your mom you were bringing up how you wanted kiss your roommate. Because of course you had been in love with him since your college days too. Yet yours came from your time in class together.

You had been in the lecture hall for five minutes as you set yourself up in the middle of the rows. Whilst students came flooding into the cramped room, you were too focused on your phone to notice how Jeremy walked right to you “this seat taken?” The question was innocently asked with a voice barely above a whisper that you didn’t even care to look up as you instead opted to nod.

It gave Jeremy the chance to settle in next to you “I’m Jeremy.” Even as you two had been in classes together, he had never gotten the chance to see you, especially not like this “Y/n.” You took his hand that he held out for you to shake.

A smile formed on his lips as he couldn’t help but study your facial features that stood before him in all their glory as you woke up late with little to no time for make up that morning “I know.” Jeremy grinned seeing your lips curve upward “you know?” Your words were playful as you didn’t believe him.

The boy laughed as he nodded “think you’re real pretty y/n.” Your name sounded like honey as it rolled off of his tongue “think that’s enough flirting from you for one day Swayman.” You tucked your hair behind your ear avoiding how wide your smile had grown as you avoided his stare when your cheeks turned red.

The memories of that day made you smile as you never thought you would fall in love with him. But you couldn’t help but come back to your dorm to gush to your mom about how different your expectations of him were. Yet all of those thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as the boys door opened letting you be met by his chest.

You almost fell back as Jeremy’s quick reaction time pulled you closer to him as he steadied your feet “what are you doing awake?” His voice was low as he watched you gulp “couldn’t sleep.” Your fingers ran over his bare chest as you looked up at him.

If eyes were the key to the soul then the two of you were currently open books “you?” Your lips pursed together as the tension between you both could have been cut by a knife “couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged as he reached behind your head tucking your hair behind your ear.

Jeremy loved how you smiled up at him “what’s on your mind?” He asked noting how your eyebrow arched like something was on your mind “you.” The word came from your lips like it word vomit.

But as his expression turned surprised it made you go quiet “me?” You nodded letting out a sigh “I try to ignore it but god I’m in love with you.” You ran your fingers through your hair as Jeremy just stared at you.

Maybe it was the shock of hearing you say that but he swore he was dreaming “and I don’t want to lose you but I can’t.” Your chest heaved “I can’t keep on going on these dates hoping it might get you to say something to me.” Tears formed in your waterline as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

Jeremy finally opted to put you out of your misery when he smiled “you love me?” His voice was shaky as he squeezed your hips “you’re being mean Jer.” You nodded feeling like you were on the edge of your seat waiting to hear what he would say.

A laugh left his lips “think you can answer my question f’me pretty girl?” Jeremy taunted as he smirked “I’m in love with you.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he shut the gap between you both.

The air was palpable as your heart pounded “I love you too.” Your hair wrapped around his finger as he smiled “can I kiss you?” Jeremy let his lips hover over yours “please.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when he kissed you.

The kiss made you melt as his lips swiped across yours. Jeremy let his hands travel through your hair settling at the nape of your neck refusing to let you go. Only when you both needed air did you pull apart “wow.” Jeremy groaned running his thumb over your lower lip.

It made you laugh “yeah.” You nodded sending him a smile “think we should do that more often.” Your words had the boy pulling you into his room “why wait?” The hockey player asked picking you up as your legs wrapped around his waist as he picked you up.

Whilst the city might have been colder as the rain came in that night with a spring storm but what nobody would know was how hot the activities were in his room. You were left twisted in his sheets as your hearts intertwined and life began to show that the only way possible for you both was together.

#ambers love moments #amber writes fics #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman fics #jeremy swayman x reader #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #nhl oneshots #hockey oneshots

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goatisbetheres · 3 months

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nate talking about the two loves of his life, sid and jo 😂

On if MacKinnon and Sidney Crosby will ever play together.

“I hope so. I’m hoping, I don’t know what’s before the 2026 Olympics, there might be something, but I guess the main thing I’m focused on is the Olympics. I think Sid has a ton of game left. I think he can play as long as he wants to, honestly. I’m a believer that primes are a little longer now, and if you do the right things, look at guys like him, Pavelski. There’s lots of examples of guys very successful in their 30’s and I think Sid’s going to be a great player 2-3 years from now. Hopefully I can stay good enough to make that team, and play together.”

On who he likes to watch when he’s not playing…

“I think Sid. I watch a lot of Pittsburgh games. I watch Brayden Schenn as well. Just two good friends of mine. Tyson Barrie in Nashville, and then I love watching Kucherov. I think everyone does. If you asked everybody’s favorite player in the NHL, I think they’d say Kucherov. I think everyone is a big fan of his. Obviously McDavid is McDavid. I like watching Pastrnak, he’s a right handed shot guy. Big fan of the game.”

On Jonathan Drouin…

“First of all, I know he’s a great person, and he’s even better as a person than 10 years ago when we were in High School. His talent, it’s still there, you can see it this season. He had a slow first 10 games, just getting comfortable, and now he’s taken off. He’s looked awesome. We’re playing together on a line, and he’s earned it. He was getting healthy scratched and still had a smile on his face everyday. He took less money to come to us, which is great, but I just felt like the value he would bring, I just felt like there’s so much more there. I can’t speak on Montreal, but I know in Denver, it’s pretty good. There’s not a ton of pressure. He can kind of do his thing and fly under the radar. He even talks about just going to the grocery store now, he’s just a civilian living his life, and I think he really enjoys that…he loves hockey. He watches every game, like he really loves the game. We can just talk about anything, and I think when you have a friend from your childhood, pretty much, you just feel so comfortable with them. We drive together a lot, on road dinners, we go every time together. We do a lot of the same workouts together. We’re just together all the time in the gym, after practice, we’re just on the same page with everything, which is awesome. You don’t find that a ton, that friendship, so I’m grateful that we are teammates again, and we’ve had a lot of fun together this year.”

#have some couth babygirl!!!#sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #jonathan druin

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asliceofzosan · 5 months

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i've seen figure skater sanji and hockey player zoro before. idk if its been explored but i'd love to put it out there:

hockey player sanji (specifically goalie bc he desperately wants to avoid being checked) and then pairs skater zoro.

pairs skater zoro's long time partner has been nami. though many people ship them together a Lot, they just know each other super well. Well enough to try dating and both of them realized they don't swing that way. in fact, it makes them a really good team. they fought long and hard to claim top spots in competitions because they portray a chemistry that's separate from the rest. plus zoro can carry nami like she weighs fucking nothing. so their lifts are so much more dynamic. they even have a whole next to impossible combination that they're trying to get the ISU to name after them officially.

sanji plays for the East Blue Straw Hats in the Grand Line Hockey League – a formidable rookie group that took down lots of big names in the preseason. they want to make it all the way to the postseason playoff finals but always seem to fall short. but theyre so determined. they reignited a lot of old sparks that were no longer there for old fans and brought in new and curious fans. sanji is the starter goalie and a damn good one at that. it makes sense bc goalies are often doing splits on the ice just to make a save. he's perfected the technique that utilizes just his legs to make saves that make the crowd go fuckin insane.

we have the usual "i booked the rink to practice before you did" trope but a little more spice. in actuality, sanji loves watching pairs skating competitions. his favorite pair rn is franky and robin (mostly for robin). and he adamantly does not want to admit to anyone that he watches zoro and nami's routines much more frequently. (and if anyone asks, he always says its bc of nami. its never just bc of nami.) and zoro's besties with luffy so he always watches their matches even if he barely understands the rules. and he definitely does not stare at a certain blond starter goalie most of the match thats fucking ridiculous

one day zoro and sanji are invited to do one of those comparison videos between hockey players and figure skaters. both get to laugh at the other even Attempting to do their sport. zoro frankly looks ridiculous in all of sanji's usual goalie get-up. and sanji couldn't land an euler to save his life. the video producer suggests they try a simple pairs skating routine. sanji is like "oh i couldn't do that–hEY WHAT THE FUCK MOSSHEAD PUT ME DOWN" because zoro lifted sanji and had him sat on his shoulder like it was normal.

zoro smirks, "you might be lighter than nami, actually. wanna be my new partner?"

sanji knees him in the stomach before skating away while blushing so hard he could melt the ice beneath him.

#listen #both figure skating (most especially pairs skating and ice dancing) AND hockey were my hyperfixations at one point #and zoro? built like a pairs skating man #sanji? has the ass of a hockey player #iT MAKES SENSE TO ME !#but also the dichotomy of zoro doing a graceful sport and sanji in a fast paced brutal game #idk man im too tired to psychoanalyze why i think pairs skating actually works well with zoro's philosophy on strength and balance #and sanji's phobia of being checked tied to many little league games that led him to become a formidable goalie #i COULD GO ON #But i will sleep instead #one piece #sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #niki's log: op #niki's fics: checks and balances #dO YOU GET THE PUN IN THE TITLE GOD IM SO ANNOYING !!!!!#lowkey my contribution to zosan week even if it might not fit any promprs #i just wanna feel included

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homestylehughes · 3 days

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boyfriend quinn headcanons

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: headcanons of bf!quinn!

wc:703

warnings: fluff, cute soft quinn, smut 18+!

authors note: hi guys!! i randomly had this idea this morning so i thought id write about quinn and how i think he'd be as a boyfriend! hes been taking up too much of my mind recently LOL. i hope you guys enjoy!! more fics are coming up later this week! like and reblog if you like <3. as always much love <3

happy reading <3

Sfw/fluff:

Bf!quinn: quinn would be the type of boyfriend to wake you up with kisses all over your body, tracing his hands all over your back. Quinn would love looking at you while you're sleeping, not in a creepy way, in a loving way, that he couldn't believe that you're his.

Bf!quinn: he would give you one on one skating lesions, holding your hand whenever you feel like you're going to fall. He'd insist that he put on your skates, tying them extra tight and patting your leg to make sure you're okay. Quinn would laugh at you when you get excited about skating on your own finally, giving you a forehead kiss, saying he's proud of you.

Bf!quinn: After a long day at work, when he knows you've had a bad day, he'll cook you your favorite meal. Even drawing you a bath, that you then insisted that he had to get in with you. He would ask you about your day, you would tell him as you lean comfortably into his touch as he runs his hands all over your body to help you relax.

Bf!quinn: quinn lovesssss when you wear his jersey to a game, he loves seeing you in the stands in his jersey, cheering for him and the rest of the team. He loves the support that you always give him. Waiting for him by the locker room, giving him the sweetest hug and kiss. Always letting him know that you're proud of him, win or lose.

Bf!quinn: quinn loves how you are around his family, how you think of them as your family. How you laugh and joke with his brothers, talk hockey with his dad, how you embarrass him and smile with his mom. He loves the relationship that you have with them. His family jokes that if you guys ever broke up, his family would be more hurt than you or quinn.

Bf!quinn: quinn would definitely get baby fever when seeing you around children. Imagining if they were your kids, wanting nothing more than to pull you home, and make his dreams come true.

Bf!quinn: quinn loves to be babied, he loves when you let him be the little spoon. His favorite way of being babied is when he comes home after a long road trip is throwing himself into your arms, dragging you to the bedroom, quickly getting changed and laying down on top of you. His face finding its way to your neck, nuzzling himself in your body breathing in your scent. He'd quickly fall asleep as you play with his hair, and rub your hands up and down his back.

nsfw 18+ below:

Bf!quinn: quinn is definitely a munch. He could spend hours in between your legs, even when you try to push him away he always comes back. He could never get enough of your cunt.

Bf!quinn: He loves marking you up, showing everyone that you're his. He can't help but feel a sense of pride when he looks over the marks. Smirking to himself, knowing you'll yell at him when you see how dark they are the following day.

Bf!quinn: quinn is obsessed with your boobs, he considers himself a lover of both ass and boobs equally but his downfall is your boobs. Any chance he has to kiss, bite, lick them he takes advantage of it. You can't even count on your fingers how many times you guys have been late to dinners because your boobs are “calling his name.”

Bf!quinn: quinn loves when you take control during sex, it's a side of you that he doesn't get to see a lot but he loves it when he does. The view of you on top of him riding him, never fails to take his breath away.

Bf!quinn: Your moans? Oh gosh your moans. They make his knees weak, He loves hearing how responsive you are. His favorite is when you moan lowly in his ear, feeling your warm breath fan his face. When you drop your head back and your mouth is hanging open as your body shakes in pleasure.

Bf!quinn: loves everything about you.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes #vancover canucks

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flynnriderishot · 4 months

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homie hopper - n.d

you’ve been called plenty of things during your time as a social media influencer.

the biggest ones? slut. homie hopper. you were used to it, so you didn’t care much.

the reasoning behind it was because you used to date chris when you guys were young and now you’re with nathan.

you all went to school together but you never really spoke to nate until your sophomore year.

even while you all shared the same friend group, you never really noticed him due to your different school schedules. while he played hockey, you were busy with cheer and volleyball. you may have spotted him once in hall way, but you didn’t have an actual conversation with him until sophomore year.

you and chris dated for a year and a few months until you both decided to break up to focus more time into your youtube careers.

now you’re at almost 8mil on youtube and you’ve been with nathan for almost three years.

when the triplets fans found out that you and chris used to be together, they went insane.

flooding your comment sections with mess about how you were disgusting for leaving him to date his best friend.

funnily enough, chris was actually the one to break up with you.

while the end result was mutual, he was the one that brought up the idea. when you officially called it quits, you spent your free time focusing on gaining your platform.

you guys stayed friends of course. there was no reason that your break up should’ve stopped a long time friendship.

when chris found out you and nate were talking, he was completely okay with it, even telling his friend about your favorite things to start up your first conversation.

you didn’t plan on addressing the hate comments you received, also telling the triplets to just ignore it.

but when you found out that fans were dming nathan about it and making him feel bad, you figured now was better than never.

yn.ln added to their story!

ynlnupdates posted!

comments

ynxsturniolo idk why people care so much 💀 it’s not like she cheated

>>> nicksbestfriend and even if she did, how does that affect us !!

>>> babysturniolo literally. like your boyfriend is probably sexting your bestfriend and you’re worried about someone else’s relationship. girl hop off 🙄

>>> florescentyn lmaoooo

>>> sturnioloswife clock it

letstrip27 we’re not mad she’s dating nate, we’re mad she left chris for nate. who’s to say she wasn’t talking to him secretly

>>> nicolassturniolo girl please 💀

liked by creator and 27,375 others

>>> mattsturniologirl NICK

madiisbae WAS IT NOT CONFIRMED THE BREAK UP WAS MUTUAL?!

>>> madelynclinesgirl it was people are just stupid

chrispepsicola literally what 🤨 yn and chris have been broken up for over three years now

mattssecretgf so…moving on makes you a homie hopper now??? 😟

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christophersturniolo added to their story!

nicolassturniolo added to their story!

sturnioloupdates posted !

liked by yn.ln and 46,283 others

sturnioloupdates nick and chris’ recent instagram stories!

comments

nicholassturniolo i ate 😚

>>> yn.ln and did 😜

>>> christophersturniolo what about me? @yn.ln

>>> yn.ln literally no 🤨

>>> matthew.sturniolo chris you didn’t say anything

>>> christophersturniolo excuse me for being confused after a nap 😟✋🏻

>>> nicolassturniolo a nap is actually insane

mattshockeystick i happen to love @/yn.ln and @/nathandoe8 ‘s relationship they’re cute 💛

liked by nathandoe8, yn.ln, nicolassturniolo, matthew.sturniolo, christophersturniolo and 24,358 others

yn.ln i ❤️ @/nathandoe8

>>> nathandoe8 i love you more 🤭

>>> ynsbabe this is so cute 😭

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yn.ln posted!

liked by christophersturniolo and 782,745 others

yn.ln love, love, love @/nathandoe8

nathandoe8 love love love ❤️

nicolassturniolo 😭🤍

matthew.sturniolo i was gonna say something corny but i’ll pass. ur cute ig 😌

christophersturniolo my favorite couple fr ‼️

liked by nathandoe8, yn.ln and 124,567 others

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#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nathan doe fluff #nathan doe x reader #nate doe #nathan doe

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rowdyslove · 8 months

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𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓. | luke hughes

꒰ genre: fluff + very suggestive ;established!relationship!au | long drabble

꒰ word count: 2.6k

꒰ warnings: lots of kissing !! slight size!kink, teasing (plz let me know if i’m missing anything)

sometimes, you tended to forget just how tall your boyfriend luke was.

even though it would seem impossible to forget how the boy you love so dearly completely towers over you like a lamp post. not saying that his height was a bad thing. in fact, it was never even close to being a bad thing in your opinion.

especially when his seemingly unusual height came in handy for you whenever you couldn’t reach something.

however, his height would quickly switch over to something really teasing and annoying. like when you would be standing next to him and he would use your head as an armrest, only to end up putting the most miniscule amount of his body weight on you as he then leaned down to boop your nose with his other hand and teasingly mumble, “my adorable short girlfriend.”

and the times he would do that, you honestly wanted nothing more than to slap him right across the face.

“you lucky tall bastard,” is all you would huff out and then luke would drop his arm from your head, only to grab a firm grip of your shoulder, turn you to fully face him and hold your chin between his fingers as he slightly tilted your face up to him.

your eyes would widen and your body would lean back slightly, but luke would always keep an arm snaked around your waist keeping you up. he would then lean his face in closer to yours, hot breath fanning over you before he would say, “you know you like how tall i am though sweetheart. and i do too, because from up here, i get a perfect view of just how beautiful you are.” he always made sure to speak in a more husky tone when he said those words, surely because he knew how much it affected you when he spoke in such a deep voice.

and of course, it would leave you a complete flustered mess every single time. the hottest of temperatures rising to the sharp apples of your cheeks, leading you to plant your face right against his chest to hide the deep red blush.

he never just stopped there though. there was always some other kind of sexual thing he would come out with right afterwards. “or the perfect view i get of you when i lift you up and pin you against the wa–”

“luke warren hughes!” raising your voice at him, clutching tightly onto his shirt before pushing him back. the words that left his lips causing your mind to cloud over with the most ungodly thoughts. It wasn't even funny at this point.

and then there were days where luke would just be soft and sweet.

when he would come back to the umich boys’ house, tired and worn-out from hockey practice, slouching himself down onto his bed and closing his eyes as he kept his head down. you would always come over to the house after practice to make sure that he was taking the proper time to relax after a long day of being on the ice for hours.

you would walk through the door quietly while closing the door behind you, careful to not make too much sound as you walked up the stairs and made your way to his bedroom. seeing his weary stature, you walk closer to his frame and stand yourself between his long legs and gently grab his shoulders to pull his head into your chest. letting your hands softly rub his back or either comb themselves through his curly locks.

and he would allow you to soothe him for a while, only to then wrap his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him as he buried his face even further into your chest and sigh softly in your comfort.

or there were even days where he was all of the above; annoying, sweet, and even sometimes full of lust.

just like he was today.

this time, you were already situated at the house awaiting luke’s return.

you hear the sounds of the door opening and closing lightly downstairs. no booming voices, just what seemed to be a singular person’s footsteps resonating louder and louder as they got closer, and you smiled to yourself softly as you kept yourself busy in the bathroom, finishing up your after-shower routine. you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind, the person burying their chin deep into the crook of your neck as they plant a gentle kiss to your cheek.

you peak at the figure through the bathroom mirror, and seeing that it’s just your boyfriend, you take in his discheveled appearance. hair a messy bunch atop his head, gray sweats paired with a simple white t-shirt covering his figure, and face seemingly softening the longer he held you close.

“you’re back,” you smile and you feel luke nod against your skin, leaving a trail of more kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck—each kiss lingering a little bit longer than the last. “how was practice today?”

“very tiring.” he mumbles quietly, nose brushing against the sensitive spot of your neck, causing a tingle to run itself down your spine. “i missed you, way way too much.”

“of course you did,” a smirk plays across your lips as you brush through your damp hair, “you seem to miss me a lot lukey.”

“i always do.” he admits innocently, pressing another kiss to your neck, his arms tightening more around your waist. luke has always been one to show the most of his affection for you—behind closed doors of course. and that usually led to many incidents of you ending up in the shower for a second time around with the boy joining in. but this time, you really weren’t feeling like standing under the steaming hot water again, so you focused yourself deeply on finishing your hair and cleaning up the mess of toiletries that were splayed around the sink from both you and the other boy’s of the house.

luke whines lightly against your skin when he notices you not picking up on his little signals he’s giving, his lips still lingering close to your neck as you finish your hair, setting your brush down in your over-night bag you kept at the house for when you would stay with him. he slightly pulls his face away from your neck and looks down at the mess you were starting to clean up. but before you could even start to get deep into it, luke quickly turns you around in his arms, yours reaching up to wrap around his torso to keep yourself stable after the fast movement.

“that mess isn’t going to clean itself lukey.” you state the obvious. however, it seemed that luke did not care one bit. he wrapped his arms tightly around you once again, holding you close against him.

“so?” he chuckles, “it’ll still be there after, you can clean it then.”

“do you really think it’ll get any better the longer it gets left there though? considering the people that live in this house.” you raise a joking eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look at your boyfriend’s face. luke just smirks with no remorse on his features at all, and you roll your eyes. “idiot.” you giggle, and he just chuckles along with you shaking his head, before pressing his forehead against yours as he bends down. luke’s hands slowly creep to the bottom hem of his oversized shirt that you had drenched over your small frame.

of course, you had stolen it from his closet, because why not?

his fingers reach your skin, thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, fingertips ever so delicate as they graze your soft skin.

as well as how affectionate he can be, luke has also always been the most teasing when the two of you were alone. he would tauntingly touch you every way he could until you would take the first step. it was a small quirk you noticed in your boyfriend over the while you’ve been dating him.

and it worked every time.

bringing yourself up to your tiptoes, you let your hands leave his torso and bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, crashing your lips vastly against his. luke hums in content into the kiss as he wraps his arms even tighter than before around your waist, lifting you up to him in the slightest.

your hands grip tightly onto his neck, keeping his head close as you delve deeper and deeper into the kiss. luke holds onto your waist securely with his right arm and turns the kiss into a more fiery and passionate kind. his left arm trailing its way around your body, feeling every crevasse and curve; each perfect point of your figure he could touch.

luke’s lips that plowed into yours, nearly knocked all of the breath out of your lungs, yet moving swiftly and skillfully against yours. you hardly had a chance to even react as he presses his tongue against the seam of your lips, and after feeling your grant of access as you part your lips willingly, he dives inside your mouth. the kiss grows more sloppy with the now strong taste of beer off of his tongue hitting your taste buds that you assume he must’ve drank with his teammates before coming home.

and during these kinds of kisses, came the con of being shorter than luke.

in all honesty, standing on your tiptoes as you were for such a long duration of time could be extremely exhausting—especially when it came to kissing your incredibly attractive boyfriend. your legs ached immensely. muscles cramping up with slight pangs of pain to remind you to stop stretching as much as you were. however, the excruciating pain you were starting to feel would not stop you from continuing to kiss luke. you would never let the pain in your legs come in your way; never in a million years.

you anchor your arms more firmly around luke’s neck as he keeps kissing you, sucking on your lower lip, moulding perfectly against you. you try your best to ignore the physical exhaustion your legs were feeling and continue on.

although you heavily prayed that the boy would just carry you to bed in his arms and fall asleep with you, you didn’t want his kisses to end.

slightly peaking open your eyes, you see just how calm luke is as he kisses you, every kiss being drawn out with nothing but pure passion. a kind of passion that it would be impossible for him to just stop and take you to bed now.

you feel your feet begin to cramp under your weight, soon reaching a point where you just can’t help but fall back down to your feet. you let go of luke, his eyes softening, seeming to be worried that he had done something wrong.

luke grabs hold of your hand, rubbing softly on your palm. he looked like he was about to ask you what was wrong before he saw you glare deeply at him. “would you stop being so damn tall?”

luke’s eyes widen slightly, not expecting the comment from you, yet it still amuses him. he lets out a chuckle of surprise, looking at you with such adoration.

“i can’t really change how tall i am sweetheart.” he states, teeth showing through the smile that displays itself across his face. luke felt it troubling trying to suppress the almost bursting bubble of laughter he felt forming in his throat, but he also found his heart warming with love for you. he bends down further to meet your face more closely and lightly rubs his nose against yours, “you know you love my height.”

without notice, the corners of your lips begin to tug upwards into a big smile. “stop laughing at me, i’m being serious.” you point your finger at yourself, “some of us have to work hard for this, you know. my legs hurt.” you then pout, bending down to rub the calves of your legs to soothe them the best you could.

luke gently smiles at the sight of you, yet this time you watch him closely. this type of smile seemed like it held much more meaning than it looked. his heavy gaze didn’t leave you for even a second as you complained to him, still smiling and keeping hold onto your hand.

“dammit luke hughes, would you stop smiling at me like that!” you whine, “this is serio—”

suddenly luke lifts you up with ease that completely takes you aback. his arms wrap around your waist as he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back. immediately his hands move to support your thighs, hands slightly grazing the curve of your behind, your eyes widening before he sets you down on the counter on the side of the bathroom sink, a small mess of items on the counter being moved out of the way and some falling onto the floor in the process.

“luke,” you breath out. your arms are rested around the boy’s neck once again, but this time with less strain on your legs.

“now please,” he sighs, locking eyes with you as he places one hand on your thigh, tantalizingly rubbing his thumb against the inner side closest to your core, the other gently pushing away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before it rests on your cheek. “just let me kiss you.”

he lunges himself forward, your back colliding against the mirror as he delves back into your lips. even more vividly than before, you can taste the beer off of his tongue as it rolls along with yours. the bitter taste seeping down your throat with every pulse his tongue makes in your mouth.

it felt like magic. the way his lips connected so perfectly with yours, tongue rolling against yours in a rhythm that made you melt like puddy in his arms. his mouth was so warm, the caressing touch of his lips much softer than anything else you have ever felt and you let out a sweet moan into him, hands raising up to tangle your fingers into his curly tufts of hair. you tugged at them slightly, his body heat burning against you and you can feel the growing bulge between his legs that grazed against your thighs.

you stifle out a small gasp as his lips leave yours, lips trailing down your skin, causing your entire body to flutter. the heat between the both of your bodies warms you completely, leading you to feel more heat pooling between your legs as luke sucks softly at the skin of your neck. he only lets go of your flesh once he sees the bright red mark that is left behind. your head drops forward onto his broad shoulder, soft whimpers leaving your throat as you feel his warm breath fanning over your skin, and your fingers dig themselves deeper into his scalp.

he slowly pulls away from your neck causing you to lift your head, his soft hooded eyes locking with yours. the heaving breaths coming from the both of you being the only distinct audio in the entire house. you softly smile at the boy, hands cupping his face delicately, thumbs grazing the very very slight stubble growing along his jaw.

“still feel like cleaning that mess now?” he asks lowly, the expression on his face dark and filled with desire as his forehead leans against yours. you know exactly what he wants now. your legs still wrapped around him, his hard erection being felt right against your covered arousal.

your legs didn’t ache anymore, however something else was now aching for him and you craved it so much.

“hmm,” you could simply just hum, voice caught in your throat, before hurriedly pulling him back into your lips again. you had no intentions whatsoever on letting him go. the mess in the bathroom could wait for now. but the boy in front of you, the one that looked at you with such lust and want in this moment, could not wait any longer.

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