#john marino fic

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨

word count: 4k

summary: Friends with benefits never works out. Someone always falls, but will they fall, too?

warnings: mild angst, drinking is mentioned, MINORS DNI 18+ content under the cut -> unprotected sex, slight hair pulling from reader to john, that’s it i think?

note: first johnny baby fic. hope you guys like it<3

The first time you met John Marino was in some dingy bar when your friend invited you out after a particularly long and strenuous day at work. Her boyfriend and a few of his friends were going to be there, and she thought it would help ease some of the stress that had accumulated over the last few days. You were initially hesitant to go, knowing that Jack’s friends were likely going to be his hockey teammates, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be around that specific group of people, but you went anyway.

You ended up having a great time, mingling with some of the other girls and guys who were there, and you also met John. He introduced himself to you, casting you a bright smile as his brown eyes bore into your own. He didn’t bother to be subtle in his advances with lingering touches and brief glances to your lips, but you didn’t mind it all that much. After all, he was easily one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen.

You end going home with him that night, spending the rest of your time out tangled in his sheets with his sweaty body pressed against your own. When you slip out of his apartment the next morning, you tell yourself that it was just a one time thing, that it was never going to happen again, but then it did. And again. And again. It happened so many times that the two of you had to have The Talk about what you were, ultimately agreeing on the notorious “friends who just hook up sometimes”.

It was a bad idea, and you knew that. You know that no matter how many times one says that there are to be no feelings involved, someone always falls. Someone always breaks the one rule that shouldn't be broken, and of course it was you who did. You had fallen for John Marino, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

Going out wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. In fact, you would have much rather stayed home in the comfort of your own bed and slept through the weekend. You’d had yet another shit week at work, and nothing seemed to go in your favor from the moment you woke up Monday. All you wanted to do was relax, but, in true Macy fashion, she convinced you to come out with her and the guys to celebrate whatever win they had secured.

At first, you were having a decent time surrounded by a slew of hockey players and their friends as they drank and had fun. You did your best to avoid John like you had done for the last few days, not wanting to think about the way he made you feel. You wanted to temporarily forget about all of your stress for the night, and that was arguably the most stressful of them all.

You were pressed against the bar, sweaty and sticky bodies bumping into you as they passed behind you. It was taking all of your willpower to not turn around each time someone would push into you a little too hard, but you kept your composure to preserve your decent attitude. You thanked the bartender and told him to put it under Jack’s tab before turning around to rejoin your friend, but you froze when you saw him.

John was sitting on one of the stools, a beautiful girl leaning on the table as she talked to him. She was slightly leaning forward, her chest on full display before him as he smiled at her, and even from there you could see his eyes dart down below her face. From where you stood, it looked like he brushed the skin of her arm with his hand when he brought it up to adjust the hat on his head, but if you were closer you would be able to see how uninterested he was. Yet the thought alone was all it took to ruin your mood.

The sight in front of you suddenly made the urge to go back home trump any desire you’d previously had to stay at the bar. Initially, you came to appease your friend because you knew she’d tease you all weekend, but now your obligation was out of the window. There was no coming back from the sour mood you were in, and you didn’t want to ruin her own, so you chose to place your still full drink on the bar and beeline to the exit.

You ordered an uber the moment you stepped outside, leaning against the brick wall as you hugged your arms against your body. Of course you knew you had no reason to be upset. It was you who made the suggestion that you could still see other people because you weren’t dating. It was you who made a point to stress that there were to be no feelings from either of you, but you’d always been bad at listening to your own advice. After all, it was you who fell for him.

When your ride pulled up to the curb, you finally sent Macy a text telling her that you were going home and that you would see her later. You knew she’d come outside had she known you were out there waiting, and you were too frustrated to deal with what would’ve been her pleas to go back inside. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to go wrap yourself in your blankets and forget about everything before you had to do the same routine next week.

Pulling up to your apartment complex, you thanked your driver and slipped out of the car. The air was cool against your skin as you walked into the building, greeting the overnight doorman who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than there. The elevator ride to your apartment felt like it lasted a lot longer than usual, and you’d never felt more relieved about anything than when you had finally stepped foot in the comfort of your own home.

“Finally,” You muttered to yourself as you stepped out of your shoes.

Your clothes felt too tight and your skin felt sticky and disgusting. Your hair felt like it was a knotted mess and you know your makeup had ran a bit while you were in the bar. On top of that, you felt like you wanted to cry out of sheer frustration. All you wanted to do was shower, crawl into bed and put on some shitty tv show until sleep graced your exhausted body.

You had just slipped on fresh clothes after your shower when you heard the sound of someone rapidly knocking on your door. Initially you ignored it, but it happened again a few minutes later, so you begrudgingly went to see who was bothering you so late at night. When you looked through the hole in your door, you saw the last person you wanted to see.

“What do you want,” You snapped as you flung the door open, glaring at John as he stood there with his hands in his pockets.

John looked slightly startled at your harsh tone, but he quickly recovered before speaking, “Macy said you left because you weren’t feeling well, so I came to make sure you were okay.”

It was your turn to be taken aback as he looked down at you, the nerves radiating off his body meshing with your own. Every feeling you had been trying to suppress came flooding to the surface the second you looked at him, and him standing outside your door with his soft brown eyes was doing nothing but making that worse. You needed him to leave so you could force yourself to swallow your feelings and move on.

“I’m fine. You can go,” You grumbled, attempting to shut the door, but his hand slapped the wood, keeping the door open just enough that he could see through it.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me,” He rushed out, voice hesitant as his eyes stayed focused on your own.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, slightly caught off guard at the directness of his question. When you didn’t answer for a few moments, John caught you off guard and shoved your door open enough for him to slip inside your apartment. He ignores your quiet protests as he shuts the door, his body so close to your own that you can clearly make out the scar on his cheek.

Blood was pounding in your ears, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest that you’re certain he was able to hear it. He was peering down at you, a multitude of emotion swirling within the depths of his dark irises. Your fingers twitched towards him, aching to pull him close, but you forced them at your side as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What did I do,” He asks, his voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

You let out a sigh, running your hand through your hair as you look at the ground, “Nothing, John. You did nothing, but you need to go. I’m sure you have some girl down there waiting for you.”

“The only girl I want is standing right in front of me and she won’t tell me what’s bothering her,” John admits, his gaze on you unrelenting and unwavering.

Your body stills as you let his words ring in your ears, coherent and well-strung thoughts fleeing your mind as you try to wrap your head around what he had said. Surely he hadn’t meant it in the way you wanted him to. Surely he was just saying that because his bar girl fell through and he knew all he had to do was mumble a few words and you were putty in his hands.

John whispers your name like it was delicate, like it was going to shatter if he uttered it with too much force. Your eyes snapped to meet his own, both of you staring at each other like you were afraid of what could happen next. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence envelope you in the most uncomfortable and nerve wracking hug as John’s words echo around you.

“Nothing is bothering me,” You whisper, tears threatening to prick the corners of your eyes.

“Then why haven’t you been talking to me? You didn’t even look at me in the bar,” He forces out, voice laced with sadness and uncertainty, “Talk to me, please. I want to know what I did.”

He had stepped closer to you now, your back pressed against your door as you looked up at him through glassy eyes. When John notices the uncried tears brewing in your eyes, his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumbs rubbing against the skin of your cheeks. His tender affection is what breaks the dam, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to slow the rush of tears.

“Baby,” He murmurs, “I need you to work with me here. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Is it– Did you find someone else?”

You can hear the way he has to force himself to say the words, almost as if he’s suppressing anger or disgust at the thought. It almost makes you want to laugh; the fact that he thinks someone else is the reason for your behavior rather than yourself. You were the cause of your own heartache.

“Of course not,” You shake your head, breathing shaky and uneven, “It’s just— John, please don’t make me say it.”

“If it is anything close to what I want it to be, I need you to say it. I need to hear it come out of your mouth,” He’s pleading with you, begging you to give him exactly what he needs to make his next move, “I need you to give me a reason to stay, or a reason to leave.”

With his eyes unrelenting from your own, you force yourself to speak through the nauseating nerves, “You’re the only one I want, too. I don’t ever want anyone else.”

Not even a second later, John surges forward and slams his lips on your own in a kiss that would’ve sent you toppling over had you now already been pressed against the door. You’ve kissed John before, plenty of times, but this was different. This was searing, blinding in a way that made you feel like you were floating above the clouds.

John tastes the salt from your tears on your lips, his own meshing with yours in a way that leaves him wondering why he had ever kissed anyone else before. He always thought you were made for him, that you fit perfectly against him, but this was different. This was much more real than it ever had been.

You dropped your hands down to the hem of his t-shirt, slipping them underneath the material so you could delicately drag your nails across the toned muscle. John falters, his teeth accidentally clashing against your own as his body shudders underneath your touch. You can’t help but smile against him, relishing in the fact that you had the same effect on him that he did you.

“Johnny,” You mumble, every nerve in your body desperately screaming for his touch, “Let’s go to my room.”

“Are you sure,” He asks, pulling away so he can clearly look at your face, “We don’t have to— We can just hang out.”

“John,” You start, voice serious and flat, “I don’t want to “hang out”. I’ve been stressing myself out trying to avoid my feelings for you, and I’ve had a shit week. I need you to take me to my bedroom.”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” He rushes out, his hand falling down to carefully grab your own and drag you down the hallway to your bedroom.

He shoves through your bedroom door, tugging you back into his chest as he reattaches his lips back to your own. Your hands fly up to tangle in his hair, gently pulling on his curls as you move your mouth against his own. John’s hands are on your hips, keeping you steady while he walks the two of you backwards until he feels the mattress on the back of his knees. Without breaking apart from you, he sits on the bed and guides your hips so that you’re straddling his waist.

You grind your hips down against him, your hands dropping to the hem of his shirt as you began tugging up his torso. John pulls his mouth away from yours so you can pull his shirt over his head, him doing the same with your own. His eyes immediately dart down to your naked chest, his tongue swiping across his bottom as he cups one of your breasts in his hand. You’re grasping at his shoulders, trying to keep yourself steady on his lap as he begins to suck on the skin of your neck.

Your fingernails dig into his back, breathy pants passing though your lips as his teeth graze over the sensitive spot he’d marked. John groans when you push yourself further onto his bulge, squeezing the flesh in his hands as he drops his head to your shoulder. You slowly grind your hips, creating enough friction to your core that a quiet moan of your own fills his ears. You’re able to find a painfully slow rhythm, but John drops his hands to your hips and keeps you in one place as he meets your lips in a hungry, painfully needy kiss.

“John,” You whisper against his mouth, “Need you now. Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap and place you on the bed, moving away so he’s kneeling in front of you and able to slide your shorts down your legs. He briefly falters in his movements as his eyes drag down the length of your body, drinking in every inch of you as he silently worships you like your body was sculpted for him. Your cheeks flushed, like they always did when he looked at you that way, and you dropped your eyes to the waistband of his jeans as you unbuttoned them.

John watches your fingers fumble with his zipper, his breath hitching in his throat when you flatten your palm against him and press down on him. He throws his head back, but the feeling of your hand was gone almost as soon as it arrived and he felt you tug the material down his toned legs. He kicks them away from him before looking down at you, a smug smile forming on his lips as he watches you clench your thighs together at the sight of his cock in front of your face.

No matter how many times you’d seen him before, the sight in front of you made your mouth water and the wetness between your legs worsen tenfold. You carefully grasp him in your hands, rubbing your thumb over the precum that coated the sensitive head. You feel him shudder from your touch, and it only encourages you to lean forward, but he stops you by taking your chin between his fingers.

“Not tonight, princess,” He lowly speaks, his thumb ghosting over your lips, “I’ve missed you too much.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes wide with anticipation as you look up at him. He’s got his head cocked to the side, his curls an untamed mess on his head as the corner of his mouth twitches. He drops your chin, jerking his head to silently urge you to crawl backwards onto the bed. As you’re doing that, you watch as he walks towards your nightstand and moves to open the drawer that typically houses a small box of condoms.

“John,” You call out, pulling your lip between your teeth, “We don’t— It’s okay tonight. Just don’t, you know.”

“Are you sure,” He asks, dropping his hand away from the handle.

“Yeah,” You nod, “I’m sure.”

A few seconds later, John is back on top of you with his lips on yours as he uses his forearms to bear most of his weight. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the curls as your mouth moves in sync with his own. You can feel his stiff erection pressed between your thighs, and you lift your hips up in a desperate attempt to get any sort of friction. John moved one of his hands down to grip your hip, his fingers splaying against the skin as he pushes you back down.

“I’m getting there,” His laughter vibrates against your lips, “Just wanted to kiss you first.”

“Wanna feel you,” You whined, his fingers lighting the skin underneath them on fire.

John mumbled under his breath, his eyes darkening as he slides his hand from your hip to grasp his length. He glances back up to you, keeping hold of your gaze as he slides himself between the slickness of your folds. Breathy whines begin to spill from your lips as you pull at the strands of his hair, the teasing anticipation making your heart race more than it already had been.

He slowly pushes himself into your entrance, hissing as your walls clench around him when he bottoms out inside of you. He carefully rocks his hips into your own, keeping himself steady above you and his movements short. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, your eyes screwed shut as he lets you adjust to his size for a moment. Small, shallow whimpers are the only thing he hears as he slowly increases his rhythm as he dips his head down.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” He whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your own, “You’re doing such a good job. You always take me so well.”

“Harder,” You choke out, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you.

John doesn’t need to be told twice as swiftly grips the bottom of your thigh and bends your leg over his shoulder before he harshly slams into you, your cries bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Your hands fall down to his back, fingernails digging crescent shaped indents into his tanned skin as he finds a pace that he’s learned drives you insane in the best way possible.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, filtering in through his ears and making the blood rush straight down to his cock. He loves watching you slowly fall apart underneath, feeling your pussy clench around him like it was made for him. One of his favorite sounds were the moans and whimpers that you made when he was buried inside of you. That sound alone could make him cum.

“Harder,” You repeat your plea from moments ago, deliberately digging your heel in his lower back in an attempt to push him further.

“Fuck,” John groans, his curls sticking to his forehead as he does exactly what you ask.

Skin slapping against skin echoes around you, your whines lacing with his low grunts as you explore the planes of his back with your hands. You feel yourself reaching your release, nearly toppling over the edge as John hits into you so deeply that it was the only thing you could register. You know he’s close too, judging by the way his hips keep faltering and stuttering against your own.

“Johnny,” You murmur as the knot in your stomach begins to come undone, “I love you.”

John swears his heart stops beating in that moment, but he doesn't stop his movements as your walls flutter around him and your nails scrape down his back. He fucks you through your orgasm, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he forces his own back just a little longer. He wanted to feel you wrapped around him for as long as he could, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I love you,” He whispers against your neck, peppering small kisses to the skin as he feels you relax underneath him, “So much.”

John feels himself reel into his own orgasm, and he quickly pulls out of you, letting your leg fall back to the mattress as he grasps his length in his hand. He releases his load on your stomach, careful to not get anything on your mattress or your face as he lets deep moans fall from his lips. Your eyes were drooping, your body coming down from the blissful high still hazing your mind as you watch his head fall backwards.

His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath, his lips parted and his eyes closed in a way that makes him look unreal. You’d always thought John was pretty with his curly hair, his brown eyes, and his soft features, but the way he looked before you completely took your breath away. There truly was no one else who even came close to him.

He carefully leans over you and presses a small kiss to your lips before he slides off the bed and darts into your bathroom. He’s back almost as quickly as he was gone with a towel in hand, batting your hand away when you try and take it from his grasp. He wipes away the warm, sticky liquid from your skin, making sure to clean you up entirely before he does so himself. He makes sure to put the dirty towel in the basket of already dirty clothes before he returns to you.

“Up,” He instructs, “I can see the goosebumps on your arms, you’re getting under the blanket.”

“I don’t think they’re from the cold, John,” You snickered, but you pushed yourself off and shoved the blanket down underneath your body.

John’s cheek slightly flushed at your comment before he was slipping back in bed, pulling the blanket back up over you and tugging you into his arms. You placed your hand on his chest, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck as he dragged his fingertips down your back. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself truly relax, and it was all thanks to some guy you met in a rundown bar.

#john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino smut #john marino fic #john marino one shot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[babydollmarauders]

MARSHMALLOW — JOHN MARINO

john marino x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n and her boyfriend get up to no good at the Devils christmas party

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, alcohol, cussing, extreme domination, heavy degradation, oral (m receiving), p in v (unprotected), i think that’s all? (3.6k words)

notes: welcome to day 4 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this is quite possibly the most degrading smut i’ve written so far, so if you ignore the warnings and go ahead and read it anyways, don’t come crying to me if you didn’t like it <3

“oh c’mon Johnny!”

Jack’s grating voice floats over the rest of the noise that bounces throughout the captain’s apartment, his hands gripping John’s shoulders as he shakes the boy from behind.

“you don’t wanna take a body shot off your smokin’ girlfriend?”

John’s head whips around to look at his teammate, a scowl resting on his face, “don’t call my girlfriend smokin’.”

“is she not?” Jack laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at the older boy.

“of course she is,” John states, shrugging Jack’s hands off his shoulders, “but you don’t get to think so.”

i roll my eyes at my boyfriend’s possessive nature, slinking closer to his figure, which stands besides the empty kitchen island.

“alright, alright,” Jack caves, “but if you won’t take the shot, someone else will.”

i can practically see the gears turning in John’s head, his eyes flickering between me and Jack.

“no, they will not.” i chime in. my hands come to rest on the defenseman’s chest, slowly traveling up to his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

“nobody else’s lips or tongue are coming anywhere near my body, baby.” i assure him, pulling his head down until his lips are mere inches from mine. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay. but you’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

“damn right, i am.” John gruffs, his eyes darkening as he pulls away. he pats the empty counter. “hop up, beautiful.”

a sultry grin pulls at my lips, hastily following his orders and pulling myself up onto the counter.

the kitchen full of hockey players cheer, any wives and girlfriends whistling as i pull my tank top off, leaving me in only a dark red bralette.

John’s hand connects lightly with my collarbone, gingerly pushing me backwards until the heated skin of my back makes contact with the cold marble countertop.

a shiver rolls down my spine, one side of his lips quirking up into a smirk. he takes hold of the ziploc bag of crushed peppermint candy cane from the counter, sprinkling a small bit on my sternum between my breasts.

Jack hands me a mini marshmallow from the bag in his hands, whilst Dawson hands his friend a shot glass of luke-warm cocoa with peppermint vodka.

“THREE!” the crowded kitchen counts down and i stick my tongue out, placing the mini marshmallow near the tip of my tongue.

“TWO!” John readies, shaking out any nerves as he prepares to down the muddy brown liquid.

“ONE!” i blink up at my boyfriend.

“GO!”

John clinks the shot glass against the counter before throwing the cocoa back into his mouth in one big gulp. his head dips down, his wet tongue dragging up my cleavage, collecting the crushed candy cane.

a shaky breath passes my lips, resisting the urge to throw my head back in pleasure at the feeling of his tongue and hot breath against my skin.

his face pops into my view as his tongue presses against mine prior to capturing it between his lips, sucking the marshmallow off of my tongue.

my eyelids flutter closed, eyes rolling back in my head. he releases my tongue, hastily transforming the movement into a deep kiss, his lips locking with mine before he pulls away.

Jack and Dawson shout, shaking their friend around as he smiles goofily.

“fuck yeah, Johnny!”

John rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his friends off. he steps back over to the counter while i sit back up, my legs hanging over the edge of the counter.

his hands wrap around my hips, lifting me off the surface and placing my feet back on the ground. he swiftly grabs my discarded tank top off the counter, shoving it into his back pocket as i press my chest to his.

“Johnny.” i breathe out to grasp his attention. he looks back down at me, his sight ripping away from Jack to find me gazing up at him.

my eyes are dark, pupils blown and breathing heavy as i sink my teeth into my bottom lip.

“baby,” he drags out, voice dropping in warning.

“that was so hot.” i whisper, lust dripping from my words as my hips push against him, his semi-hard bulge pressing against my pelvis; letting me note that the experience was just as sexy for him as it was for me.

“we’re at Nico’s.” he reminds me quietly, his lips grazing my ear.

“he won’t notice.” i state, my head nodding over to where his captain stands, immersed in conversation with Timo.

John scans the kitchen, finding everyone minding their own business, talking amongst themselves and paying no attention to us.

“fuck.” he curses, his hand grasping my own. he yanks my arm, pulling me out of the kitchen, down the hall to Nico’s guest room.

he shoves me into the room, slamming the door behind him. he steps closer, fingers digging into my waist as he spins us around, my back harshly meeting the door. his lips crash against mine, my hands holding onto his shoulders, straining on my tiptoes in order for my lips to meet his.

his tongue swipes across the seam of my lips, one hand sliding down to squeeze my ass, pulling at one cheek and making me gasp. he takes the chance to shove his tongue past my lips, tangling with mine while he uses his grip on my ass to pull me closer, his quickly hardening erection brushing against my heat.

i can feel my dampening panties stick to my core, making me let out a whine at the feeling.

John rips away, red swollen lips brushing against mine. he walks backwards, pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it onto the floor.

i follow after him until he stops near the end of the bed, hooking my fingers into the front of his jeans.

“on your knees, sweetheart.” he demands, taking pleasure in the way i immediately drop down in front of him.

his eyes darken, biting his bottom lip as he stares down at me. his fingers drop down to the button of his jeans, slipping the metal through the hole and unzipping before he pulls them down, his boxer briefs falling down with them.

his cock springs free, nearly slapping against his abdomen, tip red and angry, precum beading at the slit.

my thighs clench together, my mouth salivating at the sight.

“look at you,” he tsk’s, shaking his head. “such a fucking whore, clenching your thighs together.”

his hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back to look into his eyes and drawing a gasp from my lips.

“so horny, just from a fucking body shot.” he gruffs, “bet you’re fucking soaking. aren’t you?”

i mewl, nodding my head shortly.

“that’s what i thought.” he huffs in disapproval. “such a slut, i bet you would get worked up like this if anyone did that shot, wouldn’t you?”

he gives me no chance to answer before he speaks again.

“hmm? you’d get this worked up if fucking Nate did that shot, wouldn’t you?” he yanks at my hair again, my jaw falling open as my eyes roll back, shaking my head. “words, slut.”

“no.” i whimper, “no, no. just you. only you, Johnny.”

he hums in approval, his grip loosening in order to pet my fallen hair out of my face sweetly.

“yeah? prove it.” he croons, “suck my cock.”

my hand wraps around the base of his length, squeezing, and i begin to pump him slowly. my lips fall back open, my tongue lolling out as i lick up the underside of his cock, tracing the bulging vein that rests there.

when i get to his tip, he shoves my head down lightly, urging me to take him in.

“shit.” he curses as i slide him into my mouth, my warm tongue flattening on the underside of him as i relax my throat, bobbing my head. my hand stays wrapped around him, jerking what i can’t fit.

with each bob, his tip hits the back of my throat, coaxing a gag out of me amidst his moans.

the sound of christmas music and loud conversations still float through the crack under the locked door, covering our noise from the world outside of this room.

i peer up through my lashes, finding his chin tilted down, his eyes set on me. his jaw is slack, and i run my free hand over the ridges on his abs, feeling them tense under my fingertips.

a mix of saliva and precum drools from my lips, providing lubrication for his cock to slip farther with each head bob.

i pull off of him with a pop, my tongue darting out to lick his tip before my lips close around it, sucking gently while my tongue swirls.

his gasp is like music to my ears, his grasp on my hair tightening, pulling a moan from my throat. the vibrations travel up his cock, making it twitch, and he lets out a loud groan.

his hand slides around to cup my cheek, forcing me to look up at him again as my hair falls to frame my face.

“you think you can take it all, baby?” my lips leave his tip, my hand still jerking him, and i nod. his thumb traces my bottom lip as he speaks again. “yeah? you think you can be a good girl for me?”

i nod again and he takes my consent. his hand goes back to holding my hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he pushes my head further down, and i relax my throat, letting him thrust in until my nose touches his pubic bone.

i focus on breathing through my nose as he stills, basking in the feeling, but the moment quickly falls when i begin to gag. he uses his grip on my hair to pull me off of him, watching me as tears roll down my cheeks.

“again.” i whisper, my voice hoarse from the abuse of my throat.

“you sure?” his eyes are soft, but as i nod, they darken once more. he guides himself back into my mouth, making quick work of thrusting this time. rather than stilling, he begins to fuck my face.

moans pour from his lips, his head falling back in pleasure.

“you’re so good.” he hisses. “just a cock hungry little whore for me, aren’t you?”

i hum in agreement around his cock and his hips begin to stutter, his guiding of my head quickly stopping as he pulls me off of him for the last time.

i look up at him and his hands lock at the nape of my neck, tugging me up into a bruising kiss.

my body falls against his, my lips parting, and he slips his tongue in, tangling it with mine. my hands explore his body, smoothing along his bare chest and up to his shoulders.

“tell me what you want.” he speaks against my lips, his tongue flicking across them. “you want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?

“you want me to use you for my pleasure; fuck you dumb until all you can scream is my name.”

his words go straight to my core, only making me wetter. a whimper resonates from my throat, a smirk growing on his lips at the sound.

“i need you to say yes, baby.” he lays kisses up my throat, leaving wet marks in his wake, until he reaches my ear. his lips ghost my outer ear as he whispers. “i need to know you want it before i treat you like the dumb, drippy little cock whore that you are.”

a shaky breath passes my split lips, my jaw relaxed as he continues his attack against my neck.

“i want it.” i tremble at his touch; his hands trailing up my hot skin. “i want it so bad, John.”

he pulls away, leaving goosebumps littering my body at the loss of his touch.

“strip for me.”

John takes a seat on the bed, staring at me with watchful eyes, and i’m suddenly insecure under his gaze.

my hands shake as i pull my bralette over my head, my pebbled nipples hitting the cold air and causing chills to wrack my body.

his eyes lock on my breasts for a moment before dragging down my body, watching as i pull my skirt down my body, my panties being dragged down with it.

his hand reaches out to pull me toward him, between his spread legs, and my hands thread into the hair at the nape of his neck.

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my stomach. he trails up my body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. his lips follow a path between my breasts, agonizingly slow until he reaches my neck.

he nips at my skin, sucking and dragging his tongue over the spot before he pulls away, blowing cool air against the spot and making me squirm in his grip.

he stands, twisting me in his arms before spinning us around so my knees hit the edge of the mattress. he gives me a shove, bending me over the bed, and i brace myself on my forearms, my ass brushing against his dick.

“you’re glistening for me.” he remarks.

i jolt as his fingers swipe through my slick folds, spreading my wetness around my cunt, and he chuckles lowly when i cry out as he thrusts a thick digit into me suddenly.

“Johnny.” i sob out, rolling my hips down against his hand.

“god, you’re so fucking needy.” he grunts, pulling his hand away and making me groan in want. “i’m gonna ruin you.”

his hand closes around the front of my throat, his other wrapping around the base of his cock, guiding it through my moisture. my back arches when his tip hits against my swollen clit, a broken whimper dropping from my lips when he shoves into me.

“shhh, be a good girl and take this dick.” his grip on my throat tightens, his other hand grasping my waist.

he uses his touch to anchor himself as he pounds into me, his tip hitting repeatedly against my g-spot.

he swiftly hooks an arm around my leg, bringing it up to kneel on the bed in order to open my pussy even further for him.

tears already prick my eyes but this new angle brings a high pitched moan from my lips, my face falling forward and hair dropping down. my arms feel weak, shaking underneath me.

“this pussy was made for me. made for me to use; to get myself off in.” John’s voice is tight and strained, his hips slapping against my ass as he speaks. “say it.”

“i-it-” i stutter, struggling to speak over the sounds of his cock thrusting into my wetness.

“i-i-i-” he mocks me. his hand from my throat drops down to roughly squeeze my breast, “have i fucked you dumb already?”

“it was made for you.” i squeak out, back arching again as he twists and pinches at my nipple, “my pussy is yours to use.”

he drops down, his sweaty chest pressing against my back, his lips pressing against the nape of my neck before he brings them to my ear.

“good girl.”

he stands back to his full height, hands on my waist, using his grip to push me forward and pull me back onto his dick, moving me with his thrusts; manhandling me like his own personal sex doll.

“touch yourself.” he orders, “rub your clit like the needy little whore that you are.”

my hand dips down between my legs, making my upper half press into the mattress, and my middle finger slowly begins to rub the puffy bundle of nerves.

John gives my ass a harsh smack, coaxing a scream to bubble up my throat, and he hastily leans forward, shoving his fingers in my mouth.

“unless your screaming my name, you shut your damn mouth. do you wanna get caught?” he hisses.

“i- no- i-” i babble around his fingers, and he shoves them slightly deeper against my tongue.

“jesus, i really have fucked you dumb.” he spits, “i said to shut your mouth, do you understand?”

i nod my head as best as i can with it pressed into the mattress.

“good.” his thrusts speed up, urging my finger on my clit to rub faster, and i can feel a familiar pit forming in my lower stomach.

repeated murmurs of his name frantically form in my mouth around his fingers, my eyes rolling back and my body twitching as i clench around him.

“don’t come.” he demands, and i whimper as i try and hold back. “i’m close. don’t you dare fucking come.”

the pressure builds, tears falling from my eyes and onto the bed sheets as i try and hold back my release.

he fucks into me rapidly, losing his rhythm as his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside of me.

“come.” his one word spurs me to finally let go, my toes curling against the carpeted floor and my breath hitching in my throat as i finally release on his cock.

his cum spurts out in ropes, covering my insides and making further squelches as he fucks me through our orgasms. his fingers dig into my waist, surely leaving bruises, and a grunt leaves his clenched jaw.

he thrusts a few more times before pulling out, the empty feeling making me whine.

his hands begin slowly caressing up and down my back in comforting lines.

“hey.” he coos, using his strength to lift my frail figure off the bed. my legs wobble as i stand and he spins me around to face him.

his eyes are soft, filled with love and the familiar sense of home that i’m used to.

“are you okay, baby?” his hand cups my cheek, his thumb dragging to wipe the drool from around my mouth. i hum, nodding my head softly. “did i hurt you?”

i shake my head and he shakes his in return.

“i need words, beautiful. reassurance.” his voice is gentle, and he presses a light kiss to my forehead.

“you didn’t hurt me, Johnny. i’m okay.” i assure him and a small smile plays at his lips.

“how are you feeling?”

“good,” i start before adding, “sticky.”

he laughs and a grin spreads across my face at the melodic sound.

“let’s clean you up, and then you can decide if you wanna go home or go back out to the party.”

he guides me to the en-suite bathroom, gathering a few cottonelle wipes from the pack on the back of the toilet, and i bend over the counter, wiping the mascara smudges from around my eyes as he cleans me up from behind.

“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers, my still bare ass pressing against him as he leans forward to drop kisses along the tops of my shoulders. “i love you. you know that, right?”

i nod, peering back at him with puckered lips. he locks his lips with mine, twisting my body around mid-kiss in order to wrap his arms around my waist, locking them at the small of my back.

“i love you too, John.” i utter against his lips and he pulls away to give me a wide smile. i scrunch my nose at him, his head dropping back down to rub his nose against mine.

“let’s get dressed.” i nod, leading the way back to the bedroom, and we get redressed, John finally returning my tank top from earlier in the night.

“do you wanna go home?” he asks me once we’re fully clothed.

“no.” i shake my head, my hand resting on the wrist of his hand which cups my cheek. “let’s go back out and celebrate the holidays with our friends.”

“and then, when we finally do get home, we can take a bath.” i add, making him nod.

“whatever you want, love.”

his hand slips down to hold mine as he unlocks the bedroom door, opening it up and slipping back out into the still wild party.

“ayo! there you are!” Jack cheers as we find him in the living room, wrapping an arm around John’s shoulders. “was beginning to think you guys left with an irish goodbye to go home and fuck.”

John chuckles with Jack, shaking his head.

“nah, we’ve been around.” he assures his shorter teammate.

he slings his arm around my shoulders, my hand still holding his, and i peek over to look at Nico, who stands quietly next to Dawson, who speaks a mile a minute in his captains ear.

Nico finds my gaze, raising his eyebrows and smirking over the top of his beer bottle. my face flushes in embarrassment and fear that he knew what happened in his guest bedroom, but then his eyes dart to the side towards Dawson and i realize he’s giving me a ‘get a load of this guy’ look.

i giggle, burying myself further into John’s side, who gazes down at me mid-conversation and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“so, y/n,” Luke sidles up next to me, a spiked eggnog in his hand as he escapes the never ending flow of words that come from his older brothers mouth. “have fun?”

my head whips over to look at the young defenseman, a smirk resting on his lips. i tell myself that he’s just making conversation, asking if i’m having fun at the party, but then his eyes flicker between me and the hallway that houses the doors to the bedrooms and blood rushes to my cheeks.

fuck.

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino blurb #john marino fic #john marino smut #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

[zegrasdrysdale]

The arrival pic of John holding the little girls hand has me thinking about him as a dad and how great he’d be. Can you do first time dad John? Like his excitement finding out/birth/newborn fluff and the baby is maybe due in the beginning of the off season so he’s happy he can actually be there for his wife towards the end and not be stressed about missing the arrival and can soak up those newborn moments as a little family <3

[ first time forever ] j. marino

paring : John Marino x fem!reader

summary : the events leading up to John and his fiancée welcoming their first baby and becoming first time parents

warning(s) : pregnancy, throwing up. childbirth, light sexual content and language

author's note : had to do math for this one and math is not my strong suit (i very much fit the stereotype of english majors not being able to do math). pls don't yell at me if the math is wrong. i tried

༺═──────────────═༻

【 July 22nd, 2023 】

She falls to the side under the blankets with a sigh. Her breathing is labored and she looks up at the ceiling as she recovers from the strongest orgasm of her life. John is already curled up at her side and presses soft kisses into her shoulder.

"You have no idea how sexy you looked riding me, baby," John mumbles against her skin. He looks through his eyelashes at her. "Might need you to do that again."

With a breathy laugh, she looks over at her new fiancé. "Not tonight," she tells him. "We've already gone three rounds. You might have a lot of stamina from being a hockey player but I don’t. I’m not a hockey player that is constantly working out."

John smiles and trails kisses up to her jaw. She bites her already swollen bottom lip for a second and lets out a soft sigh as he makes his way to her cheek.

"I wouldn't make you go again tonight," he promises her. "We get to do this for the rest of our lives."

She smiles and John lifts his head to look at her. She grabs one of his hands with her left hand, her new ring sparkling in the soft lamp light of their bedroom as she laces their fingers together. John softly kisses the ring on her finger.

"For the rest of our lives," she echoes. He smiles at her before he leans in and kisses her softly.

It doesn't lead to anything. As a matter of fact, she falls asleep about five minutes later because of the amount of orgasms she had in such a short amount of time.

The morning in the other hand is a completely different story, and she doesn’t even mind because she is so in love with him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

【 September 16th, 2023 】

Something is wrong. Well, not wrong, but her body hasn't felt like her own recently. Every time she's eaten something she usually likes, it ends with her in the bathroom puking it up.

This is not the time to be getting sick. John is about to start playing preseason games and she wants to actually go to them without having to worry about throwing up something she eats. This might be the worst time to get sick.

She was going to go watch John at camp today but she is once again on the bathroom floor and throwing up the food that she ate last night for dinner. John is kneeling beside her and holds her hair back in a ponytail as she throws up.

“You shouldn’t come to watch today if you still aren’t feeling good,” he comments as she flushes the toilet and sits back against it. John grabs a cloth and dabs the sweat off her face. “I wouldn’t want you to push yourself if you’re sick.”

She pouts and looks up at him. “No, baby,” she quickly says. “I want to go and be there to support you. I’m okay enough to go. I promise.”

John shakes his head and pushes her loose hair behind her ears. “I don’t want you to make yourself more sick,” he replies.

“I’ve been sick for almost two weeks,” she says. As soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes just how long she really has been sick.

Constantly throwing up and feeling nauseous, especially in the morning or after she eats something. Her body has felt foreign to her and she’s been so tired even though she gets enough sleep every night.

The cramps she’s been getting with no period is the last red flag before she realizes what might be happening.

She looks up at John and asks, “Can you grab the box of tampons for me?”

He reaches behind him and grabs the box of Tampax Pearl tampons out from underneath the sink. He hands it to her and she sees that it’s not even open. She covers her mouth with her hand and looks up at John. He’s blurry because of the tears that have formed.

“What’s wrong?” John questions as the tears roll down her cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t think I’m sick,” she confesses. “I’ll need to take a test for confirmation but I might be pregnant, baby.”

John’s eyes widen before a smile forms on his face. “You think so?” he asks.

She nods and reaches up to pull him into a hug. John falls into her arms because he’s off balance and they both laugh on the bathroom floor. She runs her fingers through his curls and she presses kisses to his cheek.

“Will you be okay while I go to camp?” he asks when he pulls back. “Or do you want to come with me and we can go to a CVS or something to get some tests after I’m done? I really want to be here when you take them.”

“I’ll come with you,” she replies. “I wanted to be there anyway. Give me a second to get off the floor.”

John gets up to go get ready.

She can’t stop smiling since she realized that she might be pregnant. She most likely is pregnant and she has been ignoring the signs for weeks. She takes a few minutes before she gets off the floor and walks into the bedroom.

Her fiancé is buttoning up his shirt and tucking it into his pants. He looks over and asks, “Are you wearing one of my jerseys or a t-shirt?”

“Probably a jersey,” she replies as she walks to the closet to grab something. “Alternate or home?”

“Alternate,” John answers. “I like the black jerseys.”

She smiles and nods. “We’ll have to get our baby one,” she comments.

When she looks at John, he has the biggest smile on his face. The smile alone is enough to get her excited for the birth of their baby.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

【 December 2023 】

yourusername & john.marino97

liked by njdevils, nicohischier and 72,981 others

yourusername baby marino coming april 2024 🤍🍼

view all 4,136 comments

nicohischier congratulations !

dawson1417 boy or girl ?

yourusername come to the baby shower next week to find out

dawson1417 booo

njdevils We have a mini Marino jersey ready for you! ❤️

jackhughes so proud that i was able to keep this secret

john.marino97 my loves 🤍 can’t wait to start our family in a few months

yourusername 🥺🫶🏼 love you

penguins Congratulations John and (Y/N)! We can’t wait to meet the little one (and put them in the right jersey)

john.marino97 💛🖤

lhughes_06 gonna be the best uncle

pally_18 congrats

nhl ❤️🖤

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

【 December 14th, 2023 】

Her sisters have done so much leading up to the baby shower. The decorations are a beautiful pastel blue or pink. The cake that she and John are going to cut into to find out the sex of their baby is stunning.

She wears a short flowy pink dress with spaghetti straps and John wears a blue golf shirt with white shorts. Their friends and family are wearing either blue or pink. She could cry at how amazing everything looks but she put on mascara. Hopefully waterproof because she’s going to cry either way today.

The cake is sitting on the kitchen island. Everyone has surrounded it. John holds a knife in his hand and she looks up at him. She bites her bottom lip, ruining her lipstick in the process.

Since the start of her second trimester, all she’s wanted to do is jump him. He could come back from a game all sweaty and she’d still want to pin him to a mattress. The only thing that’s really stopped her is the fact that her belly is the size of a balloon and John probably doesn’t find that really hot.

“… llo?” someone is saying to her while she is zoned out and thinking about sex. “You in there?” It’s her younger sister. “Welcome back.”

“What’s up?” she asks as she looks around the room at everyone. “Is it time?”

Her sister nods. “It’s time, and you went into her head while looking up at John. I don’t want to know what you were thinking about because I could see the look on your face but we needed you to come back to the present day so you can cut your cake.”

She feels her cheeks flush as her sister laughs and goes to join the crowd around them. She looks up at John and asks, “Was I really that zoned out?”

John nods and leans into her ear. “I also saw the look on your face and it’s about time,” he whispers in her ear. “I have been patiently waiting for this moment to come for weeks since you wouldn’t let me touch you.”

“Even with my belly?” she softly asks.

“Especially with your belly,” he replies, voice still soft. Their eyes meet and she smiles up at him. “Ready to cut the cake?”

With a short nod, she grabs hold of the knife over John’s hand. She’s shaking slightly as the knife cuts through it.

Seconds later, with careful hands, they pull out the slice they just cut. Under the white icing is pink cake.

They’re having a baby girl.

The group of friends, family, and teammates around them celebrates. Everyone offers congratulations to the two of them.

Just to mess with John a little bit, she puts icing on her finger and puts it on his cheek. Surprised, he looks over at her. “You did not,” he says.

“You got a little something,” she laughs and points to her own cheek.

John tries to wipe it off but keeps missing the blob of icing on his cheek. She smiles and wipes it off for him. Then she sucks the icing off her finger and makes eye contact with her fiancé.

There’s a flicker in John’s eyes when their eyes meet. She smiles and John lightly grabs her wrist. “Let’s go,” he says.

“But-”

“Are you turning down seeing me naked?” he questions. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “Then come on.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

【 April 17th, 2024 】

The day starts out great.

Well, as great as it can with the Devils not in the playoffs this season and nine months pregnant. She feels heavy and she can’t see her feet anymore. John is cleaning out his locker and doing exit interviews with the team. She stays in bed and eats some of the Tru Fru that has been in the freezer for weeks.

Criminal Minds is playing on the TV when she gets what feels like a very strong cramp in her lower back and the bottom of her abdomen. She doesn’t think anything of it because she’s been getting light cramps for two days.

Then she gets another one about ten minutes later. It’s a little stronger than the last and she gasps from the pain.

This cannot be happening right now. She isn’t allowed to go into labor because John is at work. She has no way of getting to the hospital.

There’s a third concraction and sudden between her legs feels very wet. She lifts up the blanket and sees a big puddle of water between her legs on the mattress. Her water just broke.

After the contraction subsides, she grabs her phone to call someone. Anyone that will take her to the hospital.

She starts with John because maybe he’s done. It rings and rings until she gets his voicemail. “John Marino,” she begins to say as she rolls out of bed. “You better be done soon because I’m about to leave for the hospital to give birth to your daughter. I’m going to kill you if you aren’t in that room and holding my hand in an hour. I might kill you anyway because this hurts.”

Her next call is to her sister who lives about five minutes away. She picks up within three rings.

“You okay?”

“My water just broke and John is at work,” she says. She feels another contraction come on and she groans. Not that it relieves any pain. “Please take me to the hospital because I need an epidural.”

“On my way,” her sister immediately tells her. “Do not try to climb down three fights of steps by yourself, or even take the elevator. God forbid something happens. I will come get you.”

She groans into the phone again and bends over, hoping that it’ll elevate some pain. It doesn’t.

Five minutes later, she’s being hauled out the door and down the elevator. She has the baby bag over her shoulder as she gets into her sister’s car. She tries John again but isn’t able to reach him.

A YouTube notification comes over and sees that it’s the first round of exit interviews. Lazar, Haula, Bastian, and Holtzy. No John so they may not have even interviewed him yet. Maybe they’re in the middle of interviewing him and that’s why he’s not picking up his damn phone.

In a desperate effort to get a hold of her fiancé, she calls Nico. The captain gave her his number just in case. This is that just in case.

Nico picks up after the first two rings. “Good morning,” he cheerfully says. “How are you?”

“Where’s John?” she asks. “He isn’t picking up his phone and it’s important.”

“He’s talking with Amanda right now,” he tells her. “Are you okay? Do you need him?”

Another contraction. “My water broke,” she says through gritted teeth. “My sister is taking me to the hospital. Tell him to get his ass to the hospital right now or I am going to murder him.”

Her sister pulls into the parking lot. “Yeah, I’ll get him,” he replies. “I’ll drive him there myself if he needs me to.”

“Thank you, Nico,” she sighs as her sister parks.

The line goes dead and she slowly gets out of the car with her sister’s help. “Is he on the way?”

“I hope so,” she replies. “Nico is going to bring him here.”

“Good.”

They walk into the hospital and up to the maternity ward without any contractions despite them getting closer and stronger. She leans against the nurse’s counter as she checks in.

Once in the room, she puts on a hospital gown and is hooked up to a machine that monitors the baby in her belly.

Then she’s left alone while her sister talks with the doctor and calls John. She sits on the bed and looks at her swollen belly that she won’t have in a few days or weeks once she delivers the baby.

She’s going to miss her belly. It’s one of her favorite things about being pregnant. Knowing she’s growing a human inside of her. A human that she and John made because they love each other.

A contraction hits her at the same time tears prick her eyes. She will truly miss being pregnant.

The door to the room opens and John comes running in. “Baby, hi,” he pants like he just ran up here. “Are you okay? Do you need something? Why are you crying?”

“We’re going to have a baby,” she tells him. “My belly is going to go away and she’ll be in the world.”

John grabs the hand that doesn’t have an IV in it and kisses the back of it. “It’s okay,” he coos. “This doesn’t have to be our only baby. We can have as many as you want so you can have your belly.”

She laughs as another contraction hits. Her smile drops. “Where is the epidural?” she groans. “This hurts so much. God.”

Almost as if she was heard, a nurse comes walking into the room with a needle. The needle is the worst part but as soon as the epidural is administered, she feels so much better.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” John says when things have settled down. “Nico told me that you called and immediately ran out of the locker room without my stuff so I could be here. He wanted to drive me but I couldn’t ask him to do that. He still had to be interviewed and clean out his stuff. I was done being interviewed and was told I could go back in a few days to get my things. I needed to be here with you.”

She nods and looks at him. “You’re here,” she says. “That is all I wanted. Our daughter should have her father here.”

John presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “Absolutely.”

Nearly fourteen hours later at two in the morning, Taylor Marie Marino is born. Eight pounds, four ounces. She is exhausted and her vagina hurts after pushing out a whole human.

Baby Taylor cries in her arms and she cries as she looks at her daughter in her arms. John stands next to the bed and rests his hand on Taylor’s head. “Congratulations, mom and dad,” the doctor says to them. “She’s beautiful.”

“Looks just like her mom,” John says. She looks up at him and pouts. “Her mom is so strong and beautiful.”

She shakes her head and leans against John. “Shut up,” she laughs. “Don’t suck up to me now because I went through almost fifteen hours of labor because of you.”

“It was a joint effort, baby,” John replies.

“Maybe one will be okay for us,” she tells him. “Not sure if I could do this again. I don’t think I can push another watermelon out of my vagina.”

The nurse takes Taylor from them with a laugh. “Get some rest, momma,” she says. “You did good. Now you deserve a good rest.”

So she does. It’s going to be the last good rest she’ll get for a few years, or 18.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

【 May 24th, 2024 】

It’s been a beautiful and chaotic month since they went home with Taylor, but they finally have a system. Every other night, she gets up with Tay. John still takes most nights though.

Tonight, she gets up with a crying Taylor.

She grabs the newborn out of her bassinet and heads into the living room. “What’s wrong, my love?” she asks softly. “Hungry? Do you need to eat?” She glances at the time and sees that it’s about time. “Yeah. Let’s get you fed.”

So she gets comfortable on the couch and gives Taylor one of her breasts. She sucks gently and leans back to relax.

Minutes later, Taylor moves. She isn’t moving. John is taking her out of his arms. “Did I fall asleep?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” she tells her. “I got her. Go back to sleep. It’s obvious you need it.”

She shakes her head and follows John and Taylor to their daughter’s room. He lays her back down and puts on the white noise machine. They stand and look at their baby.

“We did good,” John says. “We’re doing good.”

“Maybe I do want another one,” she comments. “After we get married though.”

“Of course.”

They look at each other. John smiles and says, “I love you.”

“I love you,” she replies. “Both of you.”

“My girls.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[theemporium]

37. putting their head on the other’s chest🩵 with john marino! maybe they are out after a game with the team and it’s just fluffy

congrats on 10k!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

37. putting their head on the other's chest

.

It had been a rough season.

If you asked anyone what had gone wrong with the Devils this season, you would have received a long list in return. Between questionable line choices, goaltending issues, bad coaching and more injuries than one would expect, it was remarkable that they had as many points as they did. 

And it sucked because they were a good team. Everyone knew they were a good team. They had proved it last year when they reached the playoffs. It was just shit luck that had been following them around this season that made each loss bitter and heavy. 

But it also meant that every win was so much sweeter. When the team managed to grasp onto that flow, when the chemistry clicked, when they worked seamlessly like everyone expected from the young, talented team. 

It felt so fucking good. It felt liberating. It felt like they were on top of the world. 

“C’mon, it will be fun!” 

“John—”

“Please,” his voice softened a little, but the smile on his face was still big and giddy and, truthfully, you couldn’t say no to him even if you really tried. “I want you there.”

“You should celebrate with the team,” you said, because he should. Because after the last few games being rough on the boys, they should be celebrating the win. They should celebrate the six goal win. They should be screaming it from the rooftops. “Plus, I just got off work and I don’t wanna intrude—”

“You could never,” John replied instantly, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I want you there. I’m serious. And the boys love you. And we can leave early if you’re tired.”

The last of your resolve crumbled. “If I fall asleep on you, you can’t blame me.”

His grin widened. “I never do, even when you drool.”

You gaped. “I don’t drool!”

“You do!” 

But, despite the lingering exhaustion from the six day work streak you had been on, you still found yourself tucked away in the booth of a downtown bar. And it was easy at first, to get lost in the drinks and the adrenaline and the giddiness of the team celebrating their win. It was easy to get hyped off their energy, to join them in the laughter and the cheering and the bad dancing. It was so easy.

Until eventually the exhaustion caught up with you and you couldn’t fight it anymore.

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had fallen shut until you felt fingers lightly running through your hair. You had been tucked between John and Dawson, listening to Timo ramble off about some story that had most of the table in stitches when you started to lean on John more. Somewhere amongst the laughs, his arm was thrown over you and your head was lying on his chest and it was hard to fight the urge to just fall asleep there and then with John’s familiar smell overwhelming you.

“Tired?” John murmured, his lips brushing against the top of your head as you buried yourself further against his sweater-covered chest.

You shook your head. “M’fine.” 

John tried to hide his smile. “C’mon, let’s get you back home.”

“M’comfy here,” you muttered, your voice hinting on a whine as his arm tightened around you.

“Promise you’ll be even comfier in your bed,” he said, pausing for a few moments as he watched your hand lightly fist his sweater like you were worried he would pull away. “Or my bed, if you wanna stay over.” 

“You do have a comfy bed,” you murmured, words a little slurred as you spoke. 

He snorted. “That’s the only reason?”

You lifted your head, slowly blinking your eyes open as you sleepily smiled at him. “Yup.”

John shook his head in amusement. “Ouch. Harsh. Gonna hog the duvet now.”

You looked far too smug. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed with a sigh before he began to slide out of the booth, pulling you along with him. He decided to ignore the pointed and teasing looks his teammates were giving him, ignore the fact the boys would chirp him at practice. 

And he decided he would ignore the warm feeling bubbling inside him, instead basking in the feeling of you tucked into his side and the way you clung onto him like maybe—just maybe—you shared the desire for something more than friendship too.

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #john marino #nhl #new jersey devils #john marino x reader #john marino x you #john marino x y/n #john marino fic #john marino one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

stages - j. marino

summary: from gym girl to girlfriend

warnings: john x f!reader, swearing, fluff, mentions of a cold/flu and a broken wrist, mention of the reader running and catering business, consumption of painkillers/flu medicine

word count: 6.6k

“You’re not going to stick around?” 

You stopped walking, your attention solely focused on trying to find your car keys from the deep depths of a hectic gym bag, but even you couldn’t deny that the sound of an increasingly familiar voice distracted you. 

It was a consequence of using the gym closest to the rink, you supposed. That, or just sheer chance that your gym of choice was also the exact gym that John Marino chose to frequent. But it was honestly just one heck of a fucking coincidence that each time you stepped foot inside the building, he was also there. Somehow you’d – against your will – managed to go from polite greetings on the treadmill to considering each other friends.

It was a weird dynamic, one that didn’t particularly extend outside of this one gym, but he was clearly comfortable enough to insinuate he wanted you to hang around a little while longer. If you didn’t already know his plans for the day you’d have probably thrown him an amused glance, or maybe even entertained the thought.

You shook your head, fingers clasping eagerly around your keys, before finally turning to look at him. He was wearing a compression shirt, his hair only slightly damp because this short trip of his was only to warm himself up before he’d journey across the street to the practice rink, and there was a careful kind of look on his face. He was watching your reaction, head tilted, hands wringing a water bottle.

He already knew what your answer would be, because like you knew his plans, he knew yours, and even though he knew the effort was futile, it would never stop him trying.

“Are you ever gonna come and watch me skate?”

You shrugged, watching him walk over to his own locker and pull out a hoodie, “I’ve seen you skate.”

He shook his head adamantly, making for the door and holding it open for you to follow him, “Not in person, that’s different.”

You were about to protest, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading, but before you could, he pulled a face, and whatever was about to follow you knew was going to be a teasing jab in your direction, “Oh, wait. I think I get it, you just want to see me up close, because you won’t get that if you come to a game? You’ll miss looking at my face.”

You huffed a laugh, “That psychology degree is finally getting put to use, huh?” 

The teasing smile was still on his face, even as he turned to look at you right as you both walked out of the building and into the daylight. He was confused, the slight and fractional twitch of his eyebrow showed that, as did the way his mouth seemed to twist as his brain reworked your words.

It must have been because you didn’t deny his words that made him falter in his step and squint into the sun. You felt your cheeks heat up and your attention was thankfully stolen by the hollers and shouts from the other side of the street – you couldn’t make out the face from where you were standing, but from the size of the pairing alone, it looked like the Hughes brothers waving on the sidewalk.

“Maybe next time.” You muttered quietly, more to yourself than to the curly haired man in front of you, because if you didn’t say the words aloud like some kind of mantra, you knew you might actually never end up seeing him skate. This way, the promise felt real. And he seemed to have heard your voice carry over the slight breeze because he almost snapped his neck turning to look at you, and every morsel in your body recoiled at his quick reaction, “I’ll let you get going.” You stuffed your hands in your pockets, avoiding his eyes (he still hadn’t said anything, but there was absolutely no doubt in your mind that he had something to say).

“I’ll see you later.” He mumbled, nodding. 

*** 

You had a sneaking suspicion that John didn’t know you were here – in fact, it wasn’t really a suspicion, you knew he didn’t know you were here. It was partly down to the fact that he’d already asked you and you’d had to decline because, technically, this was a work thing, it just so happened that his work thing and your work thing were the same work thing.

You’d been debating on how to approach him, mostly when you should have been paying attention to whoever it was that you were in a conversation with, but he just kept catching your eye. You didn’t know if he was just in a spot that you seemed to naturally redirect your eyes to, or if his almost lonely mood was catching you off guard. 

He was a talkative person once you got to know him, but he’d spent the majority of the night stuck shoulder to shoulder with Luke Hughes, the two of them clearly muttering comments to each other under their breaths, usually one that would send them both spiralling into short fits of laughter before they’d inevitably straighten and try to look more professional in the face of a big boss or investor walking past. 

It was weird seeing him in such a formal setting, and in a suit nonetheless. Fuck, if you knew he could clean up that well, you’d have been eagerly accepting his game invites just on the off chance that you’d see him dressed up. It was certainly different to seeing him in his shorts or joggers and a gym top – not that an outfit choice such as that was entirely unappealing (it most certainly wasn’t – he wore his gym clothes very well) for someone like him; meaning he could pull off a plastic bin bag if he really wanted to.

You hadn’t really spoken to each other since the other day and that awkward comment was made. Even the texting seemed to have slowed a little bit, and if it wasn’t for his ‘are you busy tomorrow night?’ message, you’d have just assumed he wasn’t even interested and taken a hint and left him alone until you’d found yourself enamoured by someone else.

Though…looking at him now, smile lines making a full appearance and grinning mischievously, you weren’t entirely sure it would be too easy to even look in someone else’s direction when what was in front of you was so incredible.

That being said, the person in front of you wasn’t John in any way, shape, or form. You didn’t know who they were or what they did, but they were talking to you about something to do with hockey equipment–

“I’m the caterer.” You blurted, cringing almost apologetically when they halted with their glass halfway to their mouth, a look of mild shock passing over their features.

“Oh.” They started, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought you were the…nevermind, I apologise.” They hurried to correct themselves, and they were being so polite about it all you couldn’t help it when you jumped in.

“No, please don’t apologise, I should have said something sooner.” There was a brief pause where the both of you shared an amused look, “But if you want to know about the food?”

Their eyes seemed to light up, “Is there a dairy-free option?” 

“Yeah, there is. You want me to show you?” 

“Please.” They nodded gratefully, eagerly hurrying after you, and it was just then that John saw you out of the corner of his eye.

Granted, it wasn’t necessarily you that he saw, but a flurry of quick motion in his periphery. The kind of quick motion that would normally draw the eye under any circumstance, and it was as his eyes slid back to Luke that he felt something click in his brain – he didn’t quite understand what it was until his eyes returned back to…you.

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and his lips parting, all completely against his will. He blinked once, twice, then three times just to be on the safe side, but…you were still there: talking animatedly to one of the sponsors and pointing to the food assortment along the table with a bright grin on your face. 

Luke’s mouth was moving but John swore there wasn’t any sound coming out, or nothing of that much value, anyway, because his entire attention was completely devoted to you, as he always seemed to find it. He felt his jaw clench, confusion beginning to stir as his mind reworked old conversations for something that he might have missed.

Boyfriend? No.

Family relations? He didn’t think so.

Did you know anyone else on the team? He was the only one, he was sure of it.

Work?

Work. He remembered you’d mentioned something about catering, but he’d just assumed you worked in a restaurant with how vague you’d been about it all.

But it made sense.

“Isn’t that your Gym Girl?” Luke bumped into his shoulder, his voice dripping with awe, and John wanted to cover his eyes. He wanted to grab Luke by the shoulders and physically turn his attention elsewhere, and that sudden desire to keep you out of his reach struck a nerve.

He’d never found Luke annoying before. He didn’t like it that much.

Instead, however, he schooled his expression into one that gave the impression that, yes, he knew you’d be here, and shrugged, still keeping his eyes on your figure, “She has a name.”

Luke ignored his comment, “She’s…wow.”

John frowned, turning to Luke and taking in the little glint in his eye and the drop of his jaw. He was beginning to find the child incessantly annoying, even if he was right in his words – “Jack wants you, look.” This time John actually laid his hands on Luke and twisted him to point over to where Jack was watching them rather curiously, sheer dumb look he supposed, and pushed him in his brother’s direction before making the rather bold decision to interrupt your conversation before he could psych himself out too much.

It had been a good few days since he’d last seen you, and since then he didn’t think he’d actually had any mental reprieve from your earlier conversation about him finally putting his degree to use, and if he was honest, John kind of wanted an answer. He’d like to bring it up somehow, maybe later on in the evening or maybe not even tonight – but if there was one thing he’d describe himself as, he’d probably say he was pretty good at checking off a to-do list once it had been established, and getting to the root of that was definitely on there somewhere.

It wasn’t a priority, though.

But talking to you must be, because before he could even register the sickening thump of nervousness in his chest, he’d found himself standing directly to your right, one hand awkwardly holding his tie in place and his other shoved into the pocket of his suit pants.

You were still talking to the other person about the food, and he decided – for the sake of not wanting to interrupt – he’d made a dire mistake, and immediately changed course and darted left, only to find himself in front of a blank wall within a few short strides.

He sighed, placing his hands on his cheeks, and automatically pulled his phone out of his pocket with the faux urgency he’d mastered in the face of an awkward situation: wherever he felt a little bit too self-conscious in a public space, he’d reach for his phone. It gave his hands something to do, his brain something to be distracted by, and to onlookers it might make it seem like his awkwardness and fumbling was intentional: after all, no one could really avoid an important call or text, could they?

This time, though, he inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his nerves. He knew part of it was because he was technically at work, with his colleagues that were probably watching his every move if Luke had blabbed as expected – and that just added a whole new layer of pressure that he hadn’t previously considered before. 

Was it why you kept shooting down his invitation to a game? His teammates could be intimidating if they wanted to be.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a string of messages – your messages to each other – pulled up. He blinked, frowning briefly, unable to recall even opening his message app, let alone seeking out your contact.

He’d been doing it more often, actually–

“Hi.” 

He whirled around on his heel, jacket flapping with the brusqueness of the motion, and came to face you. He slid his phone back into his pocket, never really finding the strength to concentrate too much on where he was placing it, and before he could even consider replying, there was a dull thud and you were holding his phone out towards him, looking equally as apprehensive as he was.

“Thanks.” He muttered breathlessly, a flash of warmth tingling his hands.

You just nodded, your own hands fiddling with themselves in front of you, and he was watching – at least, he was until you seemed to become aware he was watching you do it and then you hid them behind your back almost instinctively.

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking back up to your face, “Fancy seeing you here.”

And he did fancy seeing you here, if he was being honest with himself. You looked lovely. You always do, but there’s something a little bit more thrilling to him about seeing you here wearing more formal clothes than seeing you inside a gym wearing sports gear.

It was a nice change, he decided.

You cracked a smile at his comment, and before he could think too much into it, he was echoing the same sentiment back at you, “I know, right? You’re gonna be sick of me by the end of the night.”

“Oh, please.” He shrugged, unable to help himself, “That could never happen.”

He froze, hand once again attempted to put his phone inside his blazer pocket. He couldn't do anything, not even breathe, as he waited for your reaction. His words had slipped out a little too easily and with not enough hesitancy. He hadn’t even had time to think that maybe he shouldn’t have said that, before you stepped in, thankfully not too taken aback by it.

“Never say never.”

And he swore, right as his phone dropped into the pocket, that he felt something in him snap at the expression on your face and your sudden change in demeanour. But you seemed to flick out of it almost as soon as you’d done it, because in the next instant you were happier somehow, and he just knew that teasing lilt in your tone was more self-deprecating than he would have liked to think.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, I don’t even know, I guess I was trying to surprise you?” You got out, eyes darting everywhere but his face. 

Maybe it was because he was beginning to take the breath out of your lungs with every second you spent actually looking at him, or maybe it was because you were conscious of other eyes watching you both from afar, but there was something a little bit odd about the way you were feeling in that moment.

It felt like you wanted…John. The man in front of you. In a ‘hold his hand’ way.

Which was new.

So, the crush had intensified. It was the exact thing you had to realise at that moment in time. How terribly inconvenient of you.

It could only go downhill from here, couldn’t it?

John did something with his face, and you glanced at him, noting the smile lines in his cheek from a closed-mouth smile, “It was a pretty nice surprise.”

There was a lull in conversation, the both of you awkwardly looking at each other and then looking away, trying not to show the smiles on both of your faces. It was a weird coincidence that you’d been chosen as the caterer for such a large event for such a well-known team, but here you were, amidst John’s teammates – of who you’d been putting off meeting sheerly for the reason that it might be a little weird for the girl from his gym to purposefully attend a game or practice session with the intention of doing just that, but you supposed it couldn’t really hurt if it was classed as a ‘work thing’.

Although, the man next to you certainly made the entire night more bearable. An hour and a half later you two were still talking to each other, sitting down this time with your kneecaps touching and an elbow resting on one of the tables, unconsciously tuning out nearly everyone and everything else.

It felt cliche and you almost felt sorry for inadvertently stealing him away from his teammates just because you happened to be there, but you couldn’t really find it within yourself for that to be a genuine concern. It was the longest you’d ever talked to each other, really. A coffee after the gym was sometimes in the cards, but usually you’d just forgo wearing headphones when you saw his car parked in the lot and spend the hour in the gym talking to each other – but it never got this far.

Your attention was stolen momentarily by a sudden dimming of the lights and a change in the music, and a flurry of bodies slowly tiptoed out to the supposed ‘dancefloor’. The person you’d been talking to earlier was there; there were players with their partners; coaches with their partners; parents with their kids.

You turned to look at John, an eyebrow raised in question at the spectacle, but he had a kind of soft haze about him as he watched his people begin to dance with each other; it wasn’t anything particularly special – some people were off to the side chatting and some people were just swaying, but it was obvious it had become a kind of tradition at these kinds of events.

“All staff and players are recommended to stand up at this point,” he started talking, head still turned towards the floor, giving you a perfect view of his side profile, and you watched him talk fondly, “Apparently it encourages people to get ‘more involved’ or something.” And then he shrugged, inhaling and turning back to you, halting at the look on your face, “What?”

“You’re still sitting.”

“I’m talking to you.”

That shut you up a bit: he’d said it so quickly and with such fierce conviction, as though there couldn’t even be single other reason for him not doing as he was told, and all you could do was roll your eyes and breathe a short huff of laughter, trying with all your might not to read into it too much or blush under the lights.

You’d done so well not to, so far.

“You don’t have to, you…don’t you network at these things?” 

He blinked, tilting his head in an amused fashion, “Network? Hm, that’s cute.” 

You stared right at him, unimpressed, “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you have to chat up the sponsors?”

Instead of answering your question, he turned briefly to the crowd of people on the floor, not uttering a word – and if you’d known him any less, you’d have just assumed he hadn’t heard you at all, but the look he’d got on his face indicated he was clearly thinking about something. There was a slight furrow in the middle of his brows, and his mouth was twisted thoughtfully.

You hadn’t even realised you were staring until he turned quite brusquely back to you, a hint of a mischievous smile on his face as he did so, “Who are you going to dance with?”

You felt your face drop more than you realised you were doing it at all, and the comical jump of his brows was enough to tell you he’d anticipated your reaction. 

“I’m working.” You excused, almost scoffing at the question.

“You’ve already worked. The food’s been made and put out. Who are you going to dance with?” He repeated the question with a considerable amount of vigour, and you had an inkling he asked it sheerly for coaxing a specific answer out of you.

You narrowed your eyes, dragging out the silence a little longer than what was necessary. You contemplated teasing him – maybe mentioning Nico – but ultimately opted on the side of caution.

“With you.” 

He just grinned.

***

You blinked wearily, your head heavy and fuzzy and your wrist in so much agony is hurt to even stand up under the force of gravity. The hand in the cast was painfully cold, the fingers freezing to the touch, and you found yourself wincing on instinct as you used your other hand to curl the fingers into your fist. 

You felt a little bit sick, if you were being honest. The painkillers must have worn off mid-nap on the couch because as soon as you’d pushed yourself into a sitting position a shooting throb seemed to echo right from the crack in your wrist bone to the very tips of your toes, and you walked rather blearily to the pile of meds on the table, washing some painkillers down with water.

It hadn’t even occurred to you that you’d been woken up because of something else until a knock sounded at your door, quite frantically. You stood in the middle of your living room rather dumbly, only able to tug your hoodie sleeve further down the bulky cast to cover the tip of your fingers, your brain too exhausted to even contemplate what the knock could mean or who it could be.

Your feet didn’t move, and you found nothing in you reacted to the sound like you usually would have. On a normal day you’d have jumped up to peer through the peephole to see who it was – but that didn’t happen. 

At least not until a rather dull thump echoed across your door and an equally tired groan could be heard from the other side.

That sent your mind working again, because you knew that voice, though not in that context. There was just something recognisable about the undertones there that seemed to ring a rather important bell in your head, and you stepped forward, peeking through the hole just to be sure.

As luck would have it, there leaned a mop of curly hair just next to the number on your door, and you didn’t even need to see that familiar slope of his nose or the shape of his mouth to know who it was. He lifted his head, and from the resignation in his face you could tell he was just about to walk away.

You probably would have let him: you hadn’t actually managed to tell anyone other than your parents that you’d broken your wrist, for a variety of reasons: there wasn’t any cell service in the hospital; you’d got back to your apartment and immediately passed out from exhaustion and pain; and you’d broken your dominant wrist, which meant doing just about anything was twice the faff, and you hadn’t quite mastered the art of charging your phone or texting with one hand only without getting frustrated ( you’d actually thrown it across your bed and lost it in the small gap between the frame and the wall). And the idea of opening the door to him all ‘surprise!’ didn’t seem particularly appealing.

Or it wouldn’t have if he didn’t look as exhausted as you felt, with a red nose, pale cheeks and the packet of tissues clutched in his hand. He clearly wasn’t too well either.

“Wait!” You called through the door, voice still groggy and hoarse, and tried to unlock your door as quickly as you could without fumbling the chain or accidentally shutting the door before you could wedge your foot in the crack to prise it open with your non-injured hand.

You hid the cast behind your back, trying to appear chipper as you held your door open with your foot and smiled politely. It felt a little futile, though, with the way he seemed to blink uncertainty as his attention zipped to the bags under your own eyes and the lack of colour in your cheeks.

“Hi.” You mumbled, your brain still a bit of a jumble as you almost slurred your words.

He yawned, leaning his head against your door frame in an adorable manner and clearing his throat, “Hi.”

You had to stop yourself from lifting your hand up to comb his curls back from his forehead, and instead opted to give in to your instincts and smiled softly at him. 

He reciprocated it, albeit a little sadly, “I thought you died.”

The smile on your face turned upside down, and instead of replying, you opened your door further, letting him step inside, still ensuring to keep your hand behind your back and away from his eyes until you felt as though you could tell him properly.

“You didn’t come to the gym last night and I texted but you didn’t answer, and you always come to the gym even if you’re sick, and I was just a bit worried, y’know?” He rambled, wandering towards your bathroom, “And then I woke up this morning and had to phone in sick because I feel like shit and I remember seeing the cold medications in your cu–”

He stopped, eyeing the packets of painkillers on the coffee table with both intrigue and concern, before turning to face you, eyes trying to justify any possible reason for that many packets to be out and already consumed, until his gaze came to a stop on the arm concealed behind your back. One hand came up to point at you, but before he could get any words out, he succumbed to three rather violent sneezes, all in immediate succession of each other, and by the time he’d finished, his eyes seemed redder and his cheeks even paler than before.

In fact, he blinked hard before moving himself to sit on the sofa, his head between his hands, still and silent.

“John?” You frowned, coming to sit beside him, this time uncaring if he saw the cast on your wrist or not, and placed one hand on his thigh. His eyes were screwed shut and his jaw was held ajar and crooked, deep breaths inflating his lungs slowly.

“Dizzy.” He groaned, pressing his thumbs to the bridge of his nose, and you inhaled sharply, continuing his journey to the bathroom and pulling out the necessary packets for him. You poured him a glass of water, coming to sit beside him once more, this time having some trouble popping out the tablets with one hand, and it was a particularly frustrated sigh that had him blinking cautiously to watch you.

“So, you’ve come to steal my drugs and give me your germs, huh?” You muttered fondly, about to ask him for help, but he interrupted before you could say anything else.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled, clearly ignorant to your teasing comment, his eyes fixated on your cast before trailing up to your face, moving slowly so as to not disturb another episode of dizziness.

You cringed, “I broke my wrist yesterday.” 

There was a beat of silence when you watched him watch you, heart pounding a little harder than it usually would due to the unfamiliar situation. John was always caring, always wanting to help in some way, and you adored him for it, but this was a little different.

This time you guys were in a new relationship…and there was  a small part of you that was a little worried that he’d take this as you not trusting him.

“How?” He blinked, the one word obviously not the only thing he wanted to say, but something he’d settled for for the sake of it.

You shook your palm, trying to get him to take the pills from you, and he did, swallowing them with the glass of water on the coffee table, before physically turning himself to face you, the look on his face suggesting he wasn’t about to do anything until you answered his question.

“I was…” You inhaled sharply, eyes darting from his face and the flaming of your cheeks only seemed to make you more nervous for what you were about to tell him, and instead busied yourself with picking up the box of tissues on the coffee table and holding it out for him to take, “I was with one of my friends, and she was teaching me to skate.” Your voice trailed off pathetically, almost too embarrassed to even look in his general direction.

You could imagine he was blinking, trying to make the words compute in his head, eyes boring into the side of your face like a madman. Maybe he was managing a small smile, too.

“Teaching you?” He asked, voice somehow rough and soft at the same time, and it was the warmth in his tone along with the complete lack of judgement that had you hesitantly taking a peek at him out of the corner of your eye.

You’d been right – on some level. He was hiding an amused smile behind his hand, and his eyes were wide with pleasant shock.

You nodded, rolling your eyes, “Teaching, yeah.”

He faltered, mouth open as though he was going to say something and thought better of it, before ultimately deciding to go through with it, “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because it’s embarrassing.”

“What’s so embarrassing about breaking a wrist?”

“No, it’s embarrassing that I don’t know how to skate. I didn’t call you because there’s no cell service in the ER and then it pissed me off that I couldn’t type quickly enough and now my phone is wedged down the side of my bed and I can’t reach it.” You rambled, eyes widening in a rather self-deprecating manner, “Then I passed out.”

He sniffed, plucking a tissue from the box, his other hand almost going to hold yours before thinking better of it, “Did you go to the hospital by yourself?”

You shook your head, leaning back against the sofa.

“What did the doctors say about it?”

“It’s a Colles fracture, so I’m gonna have to wear a cast for a few weeks before they change it for a splint.” You sighed, picking at the end of the cast with disdain. The painkillers had eased some of the pain to a throb that seemed to beat on time to your pulse, but it was still uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. And you were exhausted, as was the man next to you.

“I’d touch you but I don’t want to give you my germs.”

If he hadn’t looked so genuinely upset at that you might have said something else, maybe teased him a little, but with the heaviness tugging at his features already, you tilted your head, “You do look pretty rough.”

He rolled his eyes, a gap-toothed grin showing itself, “Thanks.”

“Still cute, though.” You grinned, nudging his hoodie clad arm with your own, unable to help yawning nearly immediately after, “Do you want to stay and have a nap?”

He raised his brows, clearly a little surprised by the offer, “Even when I’ve got the lurgy?”

You shrugged, “I’m probably gonna get it at some point anyway. Better to be ill together at the same time.”

“Even with your broken wrist?” 

You paused, acting like you were considering changing your mind, and John huffed a laugh. You could tell he was unsure about your proposal, maybe he’d feel a bit guilty giving you his cold when you were already in a state yourself, because it was clear he was holding himself back from being his usual affectionate-self.

“Do you have an ulterior motive?” He asked, raising a suspicious brow.

“Not entirely, but I might need you to reach my phone.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes later that you were both cuddled up under your covers, your phone now safely plugged in and charging, you on the brink of sleep when John seemed to jolt up in remembrance of something. His sudden motions had your heart beating and a shot of adrenaline coursing through your body, perhaps thinking he was en route to throw up or something, but when you turned on your bedside lamp, he was grinning lazily, his eyes a little sleepy.

“What?”

He breathed a laugh, “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t know how to skate?”

You shrugged, “I was gonna surprise you, I guess. You said there was that skate thing coming up, right? I was gonna suggest we go, but I wanted to practise and…it didn’t go very well.”

The cheeky grin seemed to melt off his face at your quiet admission, replaced by a softer, more sincere one, “You were gonna say yes to that?”

You pressed your lips together self-consciously, unable to help feeling strangely vulnerable with the intensity in his stare. You were very aware of the fact that you didn’t look your best, wearing Barbie PJ’s, and your hair was an absolute mess. Add that on top of not having had the chance to shower, you were pretty positive you didn’t smell too great either (you did douse yourself in deodorant earlier), so it felt almost unjustifiable that you were on the receiving end of such a look.

“Yeah.” You muttered, “I thought it best to at least try to look like I knew what I was doing if I was gonna be in the presence of professional skaters and cameras.”

His brows jumped up his forehead animatedly, head unintentionally leaning closer to yours in excitement. One of your favourite things about him had to be the way he was so unashamed to show enthusiasm for even the smallest things – it was always written so seamlessly and effortlessly in the way he’d nod his head when he was listening to you or the way he’d hold himself to show you he was interested. It had always tugged on your heartstrings, even when you’d first met him.

He didn’t say anything, but there was an odd expression on his face, like he was having an internal discussion with himself, and before you could stop it, you blurted a rather impatient “What?”.

He pulled a face, cheeks reddening slightly despite the chill to his skin, “I don’t know how to – I’m not good at talking about it, I’m not sure how to talk about it because it’s kind of overwhelming in a way that I can’t string the words together or something, but…” he sighed, “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more, and–Aargh.”

“You just quoted Mr Knightley.” You interrupted, eyes widening upon realising just what you’d interrupted him from saying.

“That’s what you got from that?”

You paused, eyes darting across the shadows of his face. You could just make out the smile lines on his face and the slow, weary blinks as he fought off the sleep he’d been dying to succumb to, and if wasn’t for the fact that he’d instigated this half-asleep conversation you’d probably feel a smithereen of guilt for teasing him in that state, but all you could do was nod and attempt to conceal just how smitted you felt. Fatigue tended to lower your inhibitions.

“Well, no, but…” 

His grin seemed to widen and he pressed his face into your pillow, curls begging for you to run your hand through, and sent you a rather expectant glance that had you rolling your eyes fondly.

“You know I love you too. It just…”

“It still feels weird, huh?” He murmured, raising a brow and widening his eyes after a snotty sniff, “I still get nervous.”

“With me?”

He breathed a laugh, “Saying it. You just constantly floor me, I wouldn’t say you made me nervous, not like you used to.”

“The novelty’s worn off a bit, huh?”

“I prefer it that way.” He gave a short, self-deprecating huff, “I can function around you now.”

***

Luke knew John had been hiding something for weeks, if not months. And each time he cast his mind back to trace the source, the one thing that kept coming up was that Gala and Gym Girl being the surprise caterer – probably one or two days before John had shaken his head rather despondently after Luke had asked if she’d said yes yet. After that night (each and every time Luke looked over their way, they were both completely enamoured with each other, ignorant to anyone else passing by at that moment in time), John had changed.

Whether it was just how generally happy he’d been lately, even without saying it; whether it was his sudden attachment to his phone; whether it was keeping an overnight bag in his car – it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was up, Luke felt he was proof enough of that. But what he wasn’t quite sure of, was if anyone else had noticed the slight change in the older Defenceman.

John was a quiet type, Luke could happily yap to him and he’d nod along and ask questions when it was appropriate to, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was like that with just him, or if it was just a John-thing.

Yet, here they all were – the team, families, friends…John. With a girl. The girl: Gym Girl.

And because Luke had spent so much time with him, he knew that John wouldn’t bring someone to these kinds of events if it wasn’t serious. It’d have probably been serious for a while and just kept quiet to let them both figure things out between them – Luke understood that.

In fact, it was Jack’s innocently curious question that made Luke feel a little bit more smug than he probably should have.

“Who’s that John’s with?”

Luke glanced over at the pair once more: John with a sweet smile on his face that he’d never seen directed at anyone else ever before; his girlfriend with a cast on her wrist skating like a baby giraffe, John holding onto her pretty tightly as she wobbled on her blades.

It was a cute sight, Luke could admit that. 

“His girlfriend.” He replied, fighting a smile when Jack’s head snapped in his direction, shock dripping from every feature.

“His what?”

“Girlfriend.” Luke grinned this time, “Y’know, his romantic part–”

“I know what a girlfriend is, you little shit.” Jack sighed, “When did that happen?”

Luke shrugged, “A while back, I think.”

Neither of the brothers said anything, but Luke was wondering if anyone else had had the same conversation within the last twenty minutes. Nico was talking to Timo, Curtis was hanging around with some of the media people – had they all asked the same questions, or did they already know?

“If you could pick someone on our team to get married and not tell us until they’ve got kids, who wou–”

“John.” Luke interrupted Jack, the both of them sharing a knowing smile.

#john marino x reader #john marino fic #john marino imagine #john marino oneshot #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey player x reader #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine

[hischierdevils]

Lover of Mine | J.M.

note: big thank you to @rowdyhughesy for encouraging me to finish this! I love writing for john and I’m so glad I have someone to talk about him with. Inspired by Lover of Mine by 5sos.

summary: a late night storm brings out some secret fears

warnings: lots of fluff, slight shark slander

wc: 1.3K

Lead to where your secrets are

Where we've been a thousand times

Swallow every single lie

Take all of me

A crack of thunder jolts you awake in the middle of the night making your heart race. You roll over searching for comfort, only to be met by empty sheets. “John?” You whisper into the darkness as you catch the time on his bedside clock. Where could he be at three in the morning? The bed is cold so you know he didn’t just run to the bathroom. 

A flash of lightning lights up the room as you get out of bed and pad across the floor to the door. Even though you’re expecting it this time, the next crack of thunder still causes you to jump. “John?” You call again softly to the dark apartment. 

You find him in the living room, standing in front of the big window watching the storm light up the sky. He jumps slightly as you wrap your arms around his waist from behind but then he relaxes and turns in your arms to face you. “Hey, baby. Why are you awake?” 

He smooths down your hair on both sides of your head before bending down to place a kiss on your forehead. “The thunder woke me up and you weren’t there.” You pout, hoping he’ll give you a kiss.

He obliges before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your head again and you can tell something is bothering him. “I’ll come back to bed.” 

“Why were you out here?” You force yourself to pull away from his warm embrace so you can look at his face. Most of it is in shadow but the faint light from the window allows you to see the worry lines around his mouth and the way his eyes are downcast. You bring your hand up to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch immediately. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” He lies before turning his head to kiss your palm. “I just couldn’t sleep.” 

“John.” Lightning flashes throughout the room so bright you have to close your eyes followed closely by a rumble of thunder so loud it sounds like it hit your apartment building. You jump and he tightens his hold on you as he moves you both away from the window. “Talk to me.” 

“I had a bad dream.” He admits so quietly you almost don’t hear him. 

Your heart clenches as you look up at him. You know he’s been stressed with the trade deadline approaching. His name hasn’t come up in any trade rumors but that doesn’t mean it’s not a possibility. “What was it about?” 

“I got traded…” he confirms your thoughts. “...and we broke up.” 

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got right

Confessing to his bad dream causes John to relive it all over again. In the dream, you had told him that you were tired of following him around the country for hockey. That you didn’t want to start over in a new city again and that you couldn’t keep doing it year after year, wondering if he’d get traded again. Dream you had told him that it was over, you had to break up with him.  He woke up in a panic with tears on his face as he looked over at your sleeping form. 

You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. The two of you met at Harvard and you had followed him to Pennsylvania and now New Jersey. He knew it wasn’t fair to you but he loved you and couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. 

“I’m not going to break up with you just because you get traded, bub.” You assure him as you reach up to play with one of his curls. “I love you.” 

He smiles and bends down to kiss you. “I love you too.” 

“I’d follow you anywhere.” You tell him as you relax against his chest. “You should know that by now.” 

Doubt continues to creep into his mind. “What if I get traded to Vancouver?” 

You laugh as you step out of his arms and walk to the couch. “I’d prefer somewhere warmer. Maybe San Jose?” John follows you and sits beside you. “You look so good in red though and I don’t like their colors.” 

“Oh yeah?” He laughs as you curl into his side. 

“Yeah.” You yawn. “Maybe Anaheim will be a better color scheme for you.”

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder. “I love you so much, y/n.” 

“I love you too, pretty boy.” He blushes from the nickname, burying his face in your neck as you run your fingers through his curls. “You’re stuck with me forever.” 

“I’m okay with that.” He mumbles into your skin, causing you to giggle. 

He picks his head up to smile at you and you quickly boop his nose. “You have the cutest little nose.” You tell him. “Hopefully one day our kids have it.” 

“Kids?” His hands tighten on your hips as he looks at you in surprise. “Our kids?”

“I wanna have your babies someday.” You explain as you trace the mole on his cheek with your finger. “Is that okay with you?” 

“It’s more than okay, baby.” He tips his head down to kiss you as he tugs slightly at your hair so you’ll open your mouth for him. He pushes his tongue through your parted lips as you move in his lap so you’re straddling him. He moans softly against you as you begin to rock your hips but a loud crack of thunder causes you to jump off of him. 

He stands up to pull you in for a hug, remembering you said that the thunder woke you up to begin with. “Will you come to bed with me?” You ask him quietly as you rest your head against his racing heart. 

“I have a better idea.” 

Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

You watch him curiously as he walks over to the stereo and turns it on. A Taylor Swift song that you were listening to earlier starts to play and John walks back over to you to take your hand. “Dance with me.” 

“Bub, it’s the middle of the night.” You hesitate as another flash of lightning lights up the room, illuminating John in a white glow. “You have practice tomorrow.” 

He tugs on your hand, pulling you close to him so he can rest his free hand on your hip. “I wanna dance with my girl.” He gives you a quick peck before spinning you around. 

The sound of your giggles makes him feel like his heart is about to burst. “You’re such a goof.” You tell him as goes to dip you. 

“But I am your goof, forever.” He tells you once he’s holding you a few inches from the floor. 

You smile, a little breathless before he brings you back up. “And I'm yours, bub.”

As the two of you dance around the living room, you wonder how you got so lucky with him. He’s on the quieter side most of the time and more reserved than most of his teammates but he’s always given all of himself to you. 

Moments like this, dancing around the dark living room at three am with a thunderstorm as music, is what made you fall for him in the first place. It’s what you think about when he’s on the road and what keeps you following him city to city.

#john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino fic #john marino #my writing

[quinnsmywifey]

Duke John Marino, 1844

request are open

#john marino #john marino imagine #john marino imagines #john marino fic #john marino x reader #john marino x you #john marino x y/n #john marino fluff #john marino angst #john marino fanfiction

[leaentries]

would you guys like me to write some john marino content?? if so, send in some ideas! 🫶

#john marino x reader #john marino #john marino fic #john marino smut #john marino blurb #njd #new jersey devils #leawrites💋

[uluvjay]

Drunken confessions- J. Marino

John Marino x Hughes! Sister

In which you drunkenly admit your feelings for your brother’s teammate

Warnings?; fluff, talks of embarrassment, crying, drunkenness, cursing, throwing up and mentions of it, kissing, slight age gap(5 years), I apologize for any errors.

The sound of the front door bursting open along with stumbling feet and mixed curses caused John to jump up from his spot on the couch.

Making his was to the entryway of the house he found both of your brothers holding you upright as they did their best to get you into the house.

“What the hell happened?” He questioned the younger men as he moved forward to give them a hand.

“Someone was upset about failing her test so let’s just say the vodka shots were never ending tonight.” Luke grumbled as they finally made way into the living room and laid you onto the couch where John had just been sitting.

John laughed lightly at the sight of your snoring form, your hair was messy and makeup smudged, yet to him you still looked just as beautiful as earlier in the evening when you first emerged from your room for a night out with your brothers.

“Um My girls here, I’m gonna head out.” Luke coughed before he quickly rushed out of the house.

“Okay?” John laughed as he looked at Jack who looked just as guilty.

“I-would you be okay watching over her till morning? She usually doesn’t puke or anything and Vodka tends to knock her out so she shouldn’t be an issue.” Jack rushed, rocking back onto his heels while he awaited his teammates answer.

“Where are you going?” John questioned confused.

“There’s a girl in my car….waiting to go back to her place…” Jack breathed.

“Oh, uh yeah I can look over her. Go enjoy yourself man.” John shrugged, you were snoring pretty loud and it looked like you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“Thank you! I swear the next time we go to dinner I got you covered. You’re the best man!” Jack beamed.

John watched as your brother placed a kiss to the top of your head before rushing out the door and making sure to shut it quietly behind him.

John grabbed the remote off the coffee table before he sat on the opposite side of the gray sectional, he unpaused his show and picked up from where he had left off.

However he had trouble keeping his eyes on the tv for long, they seemed to continuously drift over to your sleeping form. He didn’t understand how someone could be as beautiful as you, he still remembers when Jack introduced you a few months back.

You’d alway been around and he knew he had met you before but there was something different this time. You were in college, had just transferred over from the university of Michigan so you could attend a better program.

He knew he shouldn’t have looked at you the way he did, you had barely just turned twenty-one but there was something in those blue eyes and dark hair that captivated him.

Especially once his apartment building had to be shut down due to an outbreak of termites and your brothers offered their last spare room to him three months ago.

He thought he’d be fine living under the same roof as you, you’d always be at school, him at practice or a game, however he was very wrong. He couldn’t help the way his eyes followed you throughout the house, how his heart warmed at the sound of your laugh, or how he blushed like a teenager anytime you came within a foot of him.

The sound of you coughing pulled him from his thoughts and before he knew it you were jumping up and sprinting down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Hearing your gags echo throughout the hall he quickly followed behind you and grabbed your hair just in time for you to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You don’t register who it was behind you even as there was a cold rag placed onto the back of your neck;something your brothers never did, however that didn’t stop you from thinking it was one of them.

“Thanks Jacky.” You mumbled as your head rested on the back of your hand.

“Uh, I’m not Jack but you’re welcome.” John spoke softly.

Your body went stiff at the sound of his soft voice, there was no way you just puked in front of him, dread filled your stomach and before you knew it tears of embarrassment were streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The older man quickly kneeled beside you on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

“S’ nothing” you grumbled slightly pushing him away.

John pushed away the flash of hurt in his chest and grabbed your chin to lift your head, his free hand pushing the hair that had fallen in your face back.

“Don’t say it’s nothing, what’s wrong Y/n?” He asked gently.

“That was embarrassing” you mumbled, eyes looking everywhere besides his.

“Throwing up? There’s nothing embarrassing about that sweetheart, trust me I’ve cleaned up Jack’s vomit more times than I can count.” He laughed.

You tried not to swoon at the nickname he let slip, but the alcohol in your system wouldn’t let it go as your cheeks flamed bright red.

“I didn’t just throw up John, I threw up in front of you!, my crush, the hot guy that’s older and can have any girl he wants, the guy that doesn’t want some sloppy college girl.” You cried.

John swore his heart skipped a beat at your admission, but he couldn’t lie that his brain made him think it was just your drunken words.

“See you don’t feel the same and it’s all because I threw up in front of you.” The alcohol spoke for you and John couldn’t help but giggle lightly.

“How about we talk about this tomorrow? When you’re sober.” He asked softly.

“Okay.” You agreed.

John smiled and helped you off the floor, his hands gripped your waist and walked you towards your bedroom a few doors down. He sat you on the bed and turned to your large vanity looking for makeup remover, finding what he needed he made his way back towards you and began to wipe your face.

“Are you taking my makeup off?” You whispered.

“Mhm” he nodded.

You smiled as he ran the wipe along your forehead before coming down and running it over your cheeks and eyes, doing his best to get everything off.

“Do you want some pajamas?” He asked.

“Yes please, they’re in the drawers on the right.” You smiled softly.

He nodded and made his way over to your dresser grabbing you an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts he sat them next to you.

“I’ll be right back.” He spoke as he left you to get dressed and to collect a bottle of water and Tylenol for you.

He came back to find your bedroom door open once again and your body tucked comfortably under your large comforter.

He sat everything on your bedside table and wished you a goodnight but before he could exit your room he heard your voice speak up.

“John?”

“Yeah?” He replied as he turned back to face you despite the now pitch black room.

“You promise we can talk tomorrow?” He heard you ask quietly.

“Promise.”

“Goodnight John.”

“Night Y/n, sleep tight.” He smiled and made his way to his own bedroom for a long sleepless night.

-

The following morning you woke up to the smell of bacon flowing into your room making your severely dry mouth water.

Sitting up you looked down at the shirt you wore and the shorts on your legs, confusion wracked through your body for a moments until the memories of puking in the toilet and John taking care of you came floating back.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you remembered how well he took care of you and made sure you got into bed safely. However your smile quickly faded as you remembered that you drunkenly admitted your feelings to the older man last night.

“Fuck!” You groaned as you slumped back into the comfort of your bed.

It took you a few minutes to get the guts to go out to the kitchen where you knew John was no doubt cooking breakfast.

Shuffling into the large kitchen of the house you found him standing him at the stove, shirtless with sweatpants low on his waist, his rib cage tattoo on full display.

“Morning sleepyhead” he smiled as he heard you take a seat at the island.

“Morning.” You greeted with an awkward smile.

You watched as he turned the the fire off and turned to place the last few pieces of bacon onto a plate, looking around you noticed pancakes and a bowl of fresh fruit.

“Eat up, you definitely need it.” He spoke up nudging a plate in your direction.

You wanted to but you couldn’t take the feeling that weighed down on your chest, the anxiety of what you admitted last night lingering over you.

“John, I’m sorry.” You mumbled quickly.

“For what?”

“For what I said and did last night. I shouldn’t have drank as much as I did and you shouldn’t have had to take care of me while I was a mess, I was probably a handful and I’m real-” You began but the feeling of soft lips touching yours cut you off.

It took you a moment to respond due to shock but once you shook it off you were tangling a hand into his curls and pushing your lips harder against his.

He placed a large hand on your jaw, tipping your head back as his tongue slid into your mouth and ran against yours.

You whined when he pulled his lips away from yours, embarrassingly following his mouth as he pulled back.

“Don’t apologize.” He whispered, hand still holding your jaw.

“Did you really mean what you said last night? About me being the guy you like?”

You nodded softly, “I’m sorry if it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, especially since I feel the same way.” He smiled.

“You do?”

John laughed lightly, “Thought me kissing you was enough of a give away.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Maybe you should give me another one.” You smirked.

“Is that so?” He asked, spreading your thighs a bit more as he slipped between them.

“Mhm” you nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you looked up at him.

He smirked before dipping down and kissing you breathless this time, it was different from the first kiss. This one was full of passion, his hands tangled into your hair as kissed you deeply.

Once he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me only being twenty-one?” You questioned softly.

“As long as you’re okay with dating an old man.” He laughed.

“You are not old!” You giggled.

He gave you one more kiss before backing up and beginning to make himself a plate and you followed behind him to make one of your own. And after a delicious breakfast you two cleaned up and made your way to the living room to relax on the couch, this time cuddled up next to each other instead of on opposite ends.

“How should we tell my brothers?” You questioned.

“Tell us what?” You heard from the entryway.

-

#nhl #john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino x you #john marino x y/n #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #nhl fic

[nicohischierz]

reunion for the books: john marino

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

“johnny, i can’t just stay with you,” you reiterated

your boyfriend grumbled on the phone and pouted. you chuckled at his expression and answered your brothers text.

“it’s not like you live in a different apartment building johnny. you guys live on the same floor for goodness sake,” you teased him.

john grumbled a bit more before being called by your youngest brother.

you arrived to new jersey the morning of the devils game against the rangers. jack and luke had driven you from the airport and you caught up with them before they went to the rink.

john saw you as you bid goodbye to your brothers. he smiled and waved, a light blush coating his cheeks as you blew him a kiss.

you too made your way to madison square garden for the game. you adorned a hughes jersey accompanied with a necklace from your boyfriend.

john had thrown you a puck during warm ups under the pretence that you were a fan. your brothers waved and luke continued stick handling beside your boyfriend.

the game hadn’t even lasted a minute before the first fight broke out.

john wasn’t much of a fighter.

and this was proven when he went to fight the rangers player. sure, john held his own for a bit but he went down easily.

your spot next to the penalty box proved useful as you looked at john unimpressed. johnny smiled at you before conversing with his teammates.

they didn’t stay long in the box before they were ejected from the game.

you enjoyed the rest of the game despite the devils loss.

jack had texted you earlier to meet him and luke at the away changing rooms so you walked around like a headless chicken trying to find your way.

you’d finally found the changing room and waited off to a side when john walked out. he grinned and ran over to you, picking you up from the ground.

“oh i’ve missed you so much,” he murmured in your ear.

the second he put you back down, you brought him in for a kiss. however, it was short lived as you heard chatter coming your way.

instead you opted to change your position to a hug. “leave your door open and i’ll be there as soon as my brothers are asleep,” you whispered pulled away.

john gulped hard before turning to his teammates that filled the hallway. jack and luke had trailed behind and hadn’t spotted the two friends reuniting.

that was until dawson opened his mouth “hey, you’re hughesy’s sister!” he pointed out.

luke then pushed past his teammates towards his sister but stopped in front of her and john.

“you two know each other?” he questioned.

you nodded and moved away from john to your younger brother. “oh lukey, you need to stop growing up!” you exclaimed.

jack came up behind the two of you and hugged you in greeting. “how do you know john?” he asked.

“well we went to harvard together and we happened to be in the same class. also because i did some work with the team,” you explained.

the boys let it slide and informed you that john, nico and dawson were coming to their apartment to hang out a bit.

you smiled and nodded along.

the rest of the evening was spent with you sending longing looks to john and excusing yourselves to the kitchen whilst trying to remain under the radar.

“baby, i think we should tell them,” john announced.

you stopped pouring your glass and turned to your boyfriend. “you want to tell my brothers right now?” you asked.

john nodded. “we’ve been dating for three years, i want to be able to take you out on dates and not worry about your brothers finding us sneaking around,” he confessed.

you were about to agree with him when jack barged into the kitchen. “you’ve been saying for three years!”

luke and the rest of the guys followed after. dawson handing the captain some money as he grumbled about his luck.

“i thought quinn was crazy when he said he thought you had a boyfriend!” jack rambled.

“but then when you kept going for our games in boston and penguins games we thought it was cause of your crush on crosby,”

john laughed at the last part, watching as your cheeks turned red. you promptly elbowed your boyfriend “i was like eight,”

john kissed the top of your head and smiled at your brothers.

luke narrowed his eyes at you and john before widening them.

“wait a minute. when duker and i called you last year and he saw someone’s head was that john?” he asked.

the two of you looked at each other and blushed.

“eww,” the two hughes brothers gagged.

john wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek. “now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and i haven’t seen each other in months,” john excused.

#john marino imagine #hughes sister imagine #nicohischierz writes #nhl imagines #nhl fic

[babydollmarauders]

RIGHT HERE — JOHN MARINO

summary: in which y/n can’t let go of her situationship

warnings: NSFW!!! fingering, p in v (unprotected), substance use (weed), praise, sir kink

notes: inspired by Right Here by Chase Atlantic. this is 3.4k words even after editing, not proofread

“oh c'mon y/n, you're not seriously calling him, are you?” Kate's voice drifts over the edm song blasting from the speakers of the Hoboken club, her face painted in disappointment.

“he's not good for you.” Taylor sing-songs, attempting to pry the phone out of my hand, but i keep a firm grip on the electronic.

“how do you know that?” i rebut. “he makes me feel good.”

“yeah, for like an hour.” Kate rolls her eyes, finally wrestling the iphone from my hold, clicking the red button to end the call before it can even connect. “then we have to pick up the pieces after he inevitably leaves you alone again.”

she holds the device out of my reach, swatting my hands away with her other hand as i reach for it.

“y/n, we love you. we just don't wanna see you hurt.” Taylor coos, a hand playing with the ends of my hair. her doe-like eyes soften like her tone.

“we came out tonight for you to find someone else.” Kate reminds me, her stern voice a stark contrast to Taylor's. she glances down at the phone screen, leveling me with a stare before she hands it back to me. “two calls? really? get a grip, y/n, please. if he didn't answer the first time, then he doesn't want you tonight.”

“i don't want someone else. if i find someone else, then i have to teach them what i like.” i huff. “John knows my body and he knows how to please me. and if you aren't gonna support me in my... situation... with him, then i don't wanna hear anything about it.”

“we just want the best for you, babes.” Taylor chimes, clearly trying to de-escalate the situation.

“i'm going home.” i announce, stuffing my phone in my clutch and standing from the bar seat.

“going home? or getting in his bed?” Kate chuckles, sipping her drink.

“fuck off.” i scoff, walking away and leaving my so-called friends in the club.

it doesn't take me long to walk the fifteen minutes from the club to my apartment, one of the main reasons i had suggested that club tonight; but by the time i get up to my place, my feet are killing me.

ripping the high heels from my feet, i let my bare soles relax against the wooden flooring, heaving out a sigh of relief as i throw the shoes to the side.

i slump onto my sofa, opening my clutch and retrieving my phone. i just stare at it for a few moments, wondering if Kate is right. is three calls in a night too much?

it doesn't take long for my mind to wander, thoughts of the ice hockey defenseman in between my thighs, flashbacks to the two of us tangled between my sheets, his fingers working wonders against my heat as his lips attach to my neck. thats all it takes for me to snap, unlocking the device and clicking on his contact.

one call. i'll give him one more call. if he doesn't answer, then i'll just leave it for the night; try to get myself off or suck it up and go to bed frustratedly horny.

i listen silently as the phone rings with the outgoing call. once. twice. three times, before it connects.

“hey, pretty girl. three calls in a night.” his voice is raspy and slow. i can hear the faint voices of Jack and Dawson in the background of the other line, and just from those clues, i know what he's up to at the moment.

“please.” i can't hold back the whimper at the sound of him, clenching my thighs together at his teasing chuckle. “i need you, Johnny.”

“i'll be right there.” he replies. i can hear shuffling on the other end, the sound of keys jingling, and i assume he's stuffing them in his pocket.

“hey, Johnny?” i bite my lip, waiting for his voice again.

“yeah, pretty girl?”

“bring a blunt.” i tell him. he huffs out a raspy laugh, agreeing before he ends the call.

it's twenty minutes later that the sound of a knock echoes throughout my apartment and i get giddy, jumping up from the sofa and fast-walking to the door. i take a second to compose myself before i open it, John standing on the other side with a smirk.

“hey, baby.” he steps into the apartment, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “so which one are we doing first?”

“smoke.” i say, gesturing for him to follow me while he pulls a ziploc baggie out of his pocket, holding two blunts.

“you can start while i get changed.” i inform him, stepping into my bedroom with him hot on my trail. i look back to see him nod, snatching a lighter from the top of my dresser as i dig in my drawer for something sexy but comfortable.

i leave him sitting on my bed, the rolled object between his fingers, smoke drifting into the air from his lips. stepping into the bathroom, i get changed quickly, out of the itchy sparkly club dress and into a red satin slip nightdress.

opening the bathroom door, i notice the atmosphere has changed, the ceiling light off in exchange for my LED lights, a blue glow settling over the room.

John's eyes watch me hungrily, locked on the curves of my waist as i stalk towards the bed, kneeling onto the mattress and bending forward to steal the blunt from his lips, sticking it between mine. his gaze darts between my lips and my cleavage before settling on my eyes.

i crawl up the bed, sitting down sideways beside him, my legs thrown over his.

we're silent for a while, at some point telling alexa to play our playlist. we just enjoy the music, passing the drug back and forth a few times.

“my friends think you're bad for me.” i tell him through a choked laugh. he smirks, his hand rubbing up and down my bare thigh, causing me to clench them together, which results in a knowing look from John.

“baby, take a look around.” he remarks. “i don't give a fuck about your friends, or what they think. i'm the one right here.”

his response makes a pit settle deep within my stomach, a mixture of want and need.

i take a hit, hooking a finger under his chin to bring his face to mine, before letting the smoke drift from my lips to his.

pulling back, lust clouds his eyes and i let him take the substance from my grasp, settling back on my hands as he sets the small bit of leftover blunt on my nightstand. he turns back towards me, knocking my legs off of his and maneuvering to hover over my body.

he dips his head into my neck, pressing sloppy kisses against my racing pulse, his hand sliding up my waist and over my stomach before clutching at my breast, his thumb ghosting over the fabric that covers my pierced nipple. his touch elicits a moan to escape my lips, my hips bucking up to graze his.

“shhh,” he hushes me, pulling back from my neck to look into my bloodshot eyes. “be a good girl for me.”

his hand leaves my breasts to push my hips down, holding them in place against the bed. his lips return to my skin, trailing kisses up my jawline before he finally reaches my lips. the kiss is sloppy and slow, teeth clattering and tongues exploring. he sucks at my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth.

his hand explores my body once more, this time sliding down my thigh before gliding back up, pulling my dress up with his touch. his fingertips trail up my inner thigh, causing a shiver to wrack my body, a whimper bubbling up my throat.

he reaches his destination, pulling my panties to the side and swiping two fingers through my soaking core. my hips buck up again at his touch, making him let out a dark chuckle.

“so wet for me.” he tuts.

“yes, sir.” i moan as his fingers brush over my clit. “just for you.”

“yeah?” he urges on, pulling my panties down my legs, throwing them off to the side, landing in a heap on my bedroom floor.

he brushes his touch over my heat again, drawing out another moan from me.

“please.” i whine.

“what do you want, baby?” he questions, scanning my face. “you want my fingers, hm?”

my head bounces up and down, nodding fastly.

“can you say it for me? use your words, baby. tell me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“please, fuck me with your fingers, sir.” i whine.

John seems to deem it enough begging, because he slips a single digit into me, causing a mix of a moan and a sigh to drop from my swollen lips. my eyes screw shut in pleasure, my jaw going slack.

he crooks his finger inside me, my hips grinding down onto his hand.

“more.” i plead, my hands fisting the sheets beneath me. he adds a second finger, dragging them lazily inside of me, his thumb now providing a pressure point to my clit.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. look at me.” my eyes flutter open at his command, locking with his. he holds that eye contact as his fingers pump into me.

the crude sounds of his fingers gliding in and out of my wetness fills the room, mingling with my moans and calls of his name. ready for something more, i grip his shirt, pulling on it and bringing his lips down to mine, engaging him in a deep kiss.

“please, John.” i mutter, my lips brushing against his. “i want your cock.”

his fingers scissor and curl in a 'come-hither' motion a few more times, the knot in my stomach growing, before he removes them, leaving me empty.

he brings his hand up to my face, his wet fingertips tapping against my bottom lip, and i open my mouth, letting him press his fingers on my tongue. the taste of me settles on my tastebuds and i suck around his digits, letting my tongue lap at them.

John lets out a groan at the feeling and the sight of me beneath him. he pulls away, his fingers leaving my mouth with a pop. standing from the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head while i scoot to the edge of the bed, fumbling with his belt.

he chuckles as i get frustrated when i can't undo it, knocking my hands away to remove it himself. pulling his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his lower stomach as he kicks them off.

my mouth waters at the sight, my pussy clenching at nothing but the phantom feeling of him filling me up, the remembrance enough to make my breathing speed up.

he bypasses me, climbing back onto the mattress and settling in the middle, slumped against the headboard.

“c'mere.” he insists, pulling me towards him. his hands grip my hips as he guides me to straddle him, holding my nightdress up just enough to put my pussy on display. “ride me like a good girl.”

i grasp his length in one hand, a grunt passing his lips at the feeling of my hand wrapped around him. my other grasps his shoulder as leverage to keep me up. sliding his dick through my folds, my back arches and i let out a shaky breath, mixing with his own groan at the feeling.

his right hand leaves my hip to slap my ass.

“don't be a tease, baby.” he warns. “sink this cock into your pretty pussy.”

at his order, i line him up with my entrance, lowering myself down slowly. my head drops back in content, gnawing at my bottom lip and letting out a muffled cry of pleasure.

his hand cups my cheek, pulling my face back to look at him. his thumb pulls my bottom lip from my teeth.

“let me hear those pretty sounds. let me know how good i make you feel.” he grunts out, his voice tight.

“yes, sir.” i comply, letting my moans leave my lips freely as i grind down on him, bouncing on his cock, leaning forward towards him in order to achieve a new angle.

he buries his face in my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and suckling on the spot he knows makes me squirm. his hands slide up my hips and waist, pulling at the satin and tugging the top of my nightdress down to free my tits. he grips them in his hands, his thumbs circling my perked nipples, before he pinches them, making me whimper.

he pinches and prods at the jewelry thats runs through my nipples, and i pick up my pace, grinding down harder and bouncing faster. he uses his hands on my chest to push me up, leaning forward to bring my left nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and letting his teeth graze it. my back arches, a shiver running down my spine at the feeling.

“yes!” i call out, my hips stuttering as the knot grows in my gut once more. he picks up on my tell, taking this time to switch his mouth to my right breast as he thrusts up into me.

his tongue swirls my nipple as he sucks, and i clench around him. his hand leaves my breast to sneak in between us, using his middle finger to circle my bundle of nerves. he continues to thrust up shallowly as i bounce on him, and i can feel my climax quickly approaching.

his lips leave my breast and he looks back at my face, my eyes rolling back in my head at the intense pleasure i'm overcome with.

“look at you, taking me so well.” he coos. “such a good girl, aren't you?”

“yes.” i nod quickly, my hand rising to grip my breast in attempt to ground myself from the euphoria that's clouds my mind.

“bouncing on my dick like my own personal puck bunny.” he snickers. my other hand falls to his abdomen, and i can feel his abs tighten at the touch.

“yours.” i mutter out through the pleasure, his finger speeding up on my clit. “all yours.”

“who's pussy is this?” he uses his free hand to grab at my face, forcing me to look at him.

“yours.” i repeat.

“that's right.” he mutters. “this pussy belongs to me. only i can make you feel this good, isn't that right?”

“yes, sir.” i nod again, my eyes squeezing shut as i feel myself teetering on the edge, my movement stuttering again as i shudder.

he pulls me forward, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear as he whisipers, lust dripping from his voice.

“come for me.”

i let go at his words, my breath halting as my orgasm washes over me. my vision goes pitch black, stars dancing through it as he bucks his hips up, his finger never stopping on my clit as he fucks me through my release.

i open my eyes when i come back down to earth, panting to bring oxygen back into my lungs. but John is ruthless, flipping us over so that he hovers over me.

he plunges back into me, pushing his hand against my stomach, feeling himself deep within me. he thrusts fast and hard, grinding himself against my overstimulated clit.

i whimper, not sure if i can take any more, but he doesn't stop.

“one more.” he assures me. “you'll be fine.”

my fingers grip at his back, surely leaving red scratches down it as i attempt to pull him closer. one of my hands slides down to settle on his ass, bucking my hips up to meet his.

“that's it. you can do it.” he smirks, his words barely audible over the sound of our skin clapping against each other. my moans and whimpers echo throughout the bedroom, tears pricking at my eyes from the amount of pleasure coursing through me.

“John.” i breath, the sounds of his grunts like music to my ears.

“yeah, baby.” he dips down to press a kiss to my lips. “i'm right here.”

i can feel his hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier as he gets closer and closer to his finish, and my own stomach gets tight as i get close to mine.

“come inside me.” i whisper against his lips. “fill me up.”

his pace falters at my words and he leans his forehead against mine. his thumb drops down to my clit, rubbing fast circles against it and my face goes red as i clench around him, reaching my second climax. he lazily pumps in and out a few more times before his lips part and a moan drops from them as he reaches his own orgasm.

he falls on top of me, both of us panting to catch our breath, his bare chest againt my exposed breasts. his weight helps ground me back to the moment, and it's only a minute later that he rolls off of me.

he lies beside me on his side, his fingers dancing across the red satin that covers my abdomen for a moment before he stands.

“i'll be right back, baby.” he doesn't bother getting dressed, walking into the bathroom to clean himself up, prior to returning with a washcloth, soaked with warm water.

he kneels on the end of the bed, prying my still shaking legs apart and cleaning me up with the towel, my hips bucking slightly at the feeling. he laughs at my movement, before throwing the washcloth into the hamper in the corner of my room.

pulling his boxers back on, he stalks out of the room, disappearing for a few minutes. he returns with a bottle of water and a granola bar, handing me both. once i have the items in my grasp, he pulls the top of my nightdress back up to cover my boobs.

as he climbs back into the bed, i scoot over so that i'm no longer in the middle of the mattress, allowing him his own side.

he waits for me to take a few sips of the water before he sets it on the nightstand for me. laying down on his back, he pulls me towards him and pulls my leg to rest over his abdomen.

we're silent as i eat the granola bar, his hand rubbing aimlessly up and down my thigh. i hand him the wrapper when i'm done and he sets it beside the water bottle before his hand returns to my thigh.

“John?” i whisper, scared to break the peace, and afraid of his reaction to my next words. he hums in interest, looking down to meet my eyes. “i don't wanna fuck around anymore.”

his brows thread together in confusion, no doubt thinking this was an odd time for me to call off our situationship after being so needy with him just moments ago.

“what do you mean?” he questions, his tone thoroughly confused.

“i mean, i want more.” i admit. “i need more. and if you don't want that too, then that's fine. but i need you to let go of this hold you have on me if you don't want more with me.”

he's quiet, staring deep into my eyes, and i brace myself for him to break my heart, but his next words cause my heart to skip a beat instead.

“i don't wanna leave this bed.” he confesses. “i don't wanna leave you.

“i really like you, y/n. and i'd really like if you'd let me be your boyfriend.”

a grin spreads across my face as i nod.

“yeah, i think i'd like that a lot.” i tell him, straining my neck up to press a kiss to his lips.

“good. now, you wore me out, i'm ready to sleep.” he chuckles, grabbing the remote to my LED lights and turninng them off, leaving us in peaceful darkness.

“i wore you out?!” i laugh, smacking his chest lightly.

“uh, yeah. you're a fiend.” he smiles, cheekily grabbing at my ass.

“me?! you made me come twice!” he waves his hand in dismissal at my words.

“semantics.”

“ugh, you and your big words.” i roll my eyes playfully, burying my head in his neck as he covers us with the blanket thats now bunched up beside him. “mr. Harvard graduate.”

“babe, thats not even a big word.” he laughs as i press a finger to his mouth to shush him.

“semantics.”

#john marino x reader #john marino imagine #nhl smut #john marino fic #john marino #john marino blurb #john marino smut #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

[hd-junglebook]

On Thin Ice

Part 1 - Word Count 1822

Part 2

Best Friends Brother/Forced Proximity

The pulsing bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, bodies moved in rhythm on the crowded dance floor, bathed in the kaleidoscope of lights that flashed overhead.

At the center of it all stood Y/n, perched behind the sleek bar, expertly mixing drinks with a practiced hand.

Her eyes scanned the room with a cool detachment, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons who frequented the club night after night. Some were regulars, seeking refuge from the monotony of their daily lives, while others were newcomers drawn in by the promise of excitement and escape.

Among the throng of revelers, one figure stood out from the rest. Tall and confident, with a mischievous glint in his eye, was Jack Hughes, the famous hockey player whose presence seemed to command attention wherever he went. He was surrounded by his teammates, their laughter mingling with the music as they enjoyed the music.

Y/n watched them from afar, unimpressed by the spectacle they created. To her, they were just another group of entitled athletes looking for a good time.

But little did she know, Jack had already set his sights on her, intrigued by the challenge of winning over the one person in the club who seemed immune to his charms.

With a confident stride, she reaches their table and addresses the group with a professional smile. "Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you tonight?" she asks, her voice steady despite the loud music.

The other players eagerly place their orders, but Jack remains silent, his gaze fixed elsewhere as if she doesn't even exist. Y/n clears her throat, determined not to let his dismissive attitude get to her. Locking eyes with Jack, she holds his gaze, silently challenging him to acknowledge her presence.

After a moment, Jack finally meets her gaze, his expression guarded. Y/n holds his stare, refusing to back down. She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a low murmur.

"Is there something I can help you with or are you just here to ignore me?" she says, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

The other players begin cracking up amongst themselves, sensing the tension between Y/n and Jack. Jack's lips twitch with the hint of a smirk, intrigued by Y/n's defiance, not expecting her to address him so boldly.

"Surprise me," he finally replies, his voice low and husky.

Y/n raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Alright then, consider it done," she says, before turning on her heel and heading back to the bar to prepare their drinks without a second glance. Y/n could hear them laughing even from behind the bar.

She steps behind the bar, the familiar rhythm of the club pulses through the wooden counter beneath her hands. She leans in, her movements fluid and practiced as she retrieves the necessary bottles from the shelves. The scent of alcohol and sweat mingles in the air, a constant backdrop to the cacophony of sound that fills the room.

With a steady hand, Y/n pours Jack's drink, the liquid flowing smoothly into the glass as she measures out the perfect amount.

Despite the chaos of the club around her, Y/n's movements are precise and deliberate, a testament to her few years of experience behind the bar. She knows this environment like the back of her hand, and she thrives in its fast-paced energy.

As she finishes pouring the drink, she takes a moment to savor the sense of calm that washes over her. Y/n approaches the table once again, carrying the tray of drinks, she can feel the weight of Jack's gaze on her.

She sets down the shots for the other players, exchanging friendly nods and smiles with them before finally reaching Jack.

With deliberate care, Y/n places Jack's drink in front of him, her fingers brushing against his hand for the briefest of moments. She meets his eyes, holding his gaze steadily as she waits for his reaction. Jack's expression softens slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he takes the shot glass in hand.

Their fingers brush again, this time lingering for a fraction of a second longer, sending a jolt of electricity through Y/n's veins.

"Thanks," Jack murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle. With a simple nod, she returns to her duties behind the bar. She takes note of the two blondes leaning in close to each other, their heads bent together in whispered conversation.

They shoot furtive glances in the direction of the players' table, their giggles growing louder with each passing moment. Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/n approaches them with a quizzical smile.

"Everything alright, ladies? Need anything else?" she asks, her tone light but tinged with a hint of suspicion.

The blondes exchange a quick glance before one of them, a petite girl with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, speaks up. "Oh, we're just admiring the view," she says with a playful wink.

Y/n raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a half-smile. "Is that so? Well, I hear he has a thing for blondes," she replies, her voice tinged with amusement.

The girls look over at Jack, obviously trying to get his attention. This catches Jacks eye, and he quickly looks over at the two. Jack smiles a bit and then whispers something to his teammates. After he pulled away, they all began to laugh, he looked back at the drunk girls and smiles.

Y/n huffs out a laugh at the interaction before checking her watch, noting it was time to take her break. She headed straight to the more secluded area of the club, finding the lounge and plopping down on its couch. The soft hum of distant chatter fills the air, a soothing backdrop to her thoughts as she allows herself to unwind.

She takes the moment alone to relax in the quiet of the club before there’s a knock on the door frame. Y/n looks up to find Jack standing there, his grin wide and infectious as he meets her gaze. The sight of him catches her off guard, momentarily stealing her breath away.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Jack saunters into the room with a casual confidence, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Y/n raises an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and skepticism as Jack enters the room. "Lost sweetheart?" she quips.

Jack chuckles, undeterred by her dismissive demeanor. "No, just looking for a moment to relax," he replies, his grin widening as he settles onto the couch beside her. Y/n rolls her eyes, her lips quirking into a half-smile despite herself.

"So, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asks, his tone playful as he tries to strike up a conversation.

Y/n scoffs, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sizes him up. "Working, if you must know," she replies, her tone clipped as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Jack's laughter fills the air, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, the glamorous life of a bartender," he says, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "I bet you see all kinds of interesting characters in here."

Y/n chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You have no idea," she replies, her tone light but tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "Let's just say, it's never boring."

But just as their banter begins to flow, the atmosphere in the room shifts. One of the blondes from earlier stumbles into the lounge, her presence immediately commanding attention.

She teeters unsteadily on her heels, her gaze fixed on Jack with single-minded determination. Y/n can feel the tension in the room shift, the easy rapport between her and Jack faltering in the face of this unexpected interruption.

The blonde sidles up to Jack, her movements clumsy and awkward as she tries to capture his attention. "Hey there, handsome," she slurs, her voice loud and grating in the quiet of the lounge. "Wanna dance?"

Jack's smile falters slightly at the intrusion, his eyes flickering with discomfort as he tries to navigate the situation. "Um, I'm sorry, I'm actually in the middle of something right now," he says, his voice strained as he tries to politely decline her offer.

But the blonde refuses to take no for an answer, her persistence bordering on desperation. She reaches out to touch Jack's arm, her voice growing louder as she tries to coax him into joining her on the dance floor.

Y/n can see the discomfort written plainly on his face. Without missing a beat, she leaps into action, determined to rescue him from the awkward situation. "Sorry, but Jack promised me the next dance," Y/n interjects smoothly.

Jack's eyes widen in surprise at the unexpected rescue, but he quickly recovers, shooting Y/n a grateful smile. "Yeah, sorry about that," he says, his tone apologetic as he stands up from the couch. "Duty calls, I guess."

With a quick nod to the bewildered blonde, Y/n and Jack make their escape, slipping out of the lounge without a backward glance. As they make their way through the club, Y/n can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of their excuse.

As they reach the crowded dance floor, Y/n suddenly becomes acutely aware of how close they are, the heat of Jack's presence sending a shiver down her spine. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Y/n takes a small step back, putting a safe distance between them.

"Well, that was... interesting," she says, her voice slightly strained as she tries to regain her composure. “I uhm need to get back to work.”

Jack's hand reaches out, gently catching her wrist and halting her in her tracks. She turns to face him, her gaze meeting his in the soft purple lights that cascade from above, casting a dreamlike glow over their exchange.

"Hey, before you go," Jack says, his voice smooth and confident. "I was wondering if I could get your number. You know, in case I need rescuing from any more blonde bombshells."

She quirks an eyebrow at his cheeky remark, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She tilts her head to the side, considering his request for a moment before responding.

"Well," she says, her tone teasing but tinged with a hint of approval. "I guess you're not gonna be my knight in shining armor after all." Jack chuckles, his smile widening at her playful jab. "I'll take that as a yes," he says, his voice tinged with relief as he reaches into his pocket for his phone.

But before he can enter her number, Y/n leans in close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispers, "It’s actually a no."

With a playful wink, she steps back, her heart pounding in her chest as she turns and walks away, leaving Jack standing there in the hallway, his mind reeling with the thrill of their encounter.

...

#angst #fluff #masterlist #new writers on tumblr #new fic #jh86 #luke hughes #jack hughes #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #best friends brother #alternate universe #new jersey devils #new jeresy #hockey #jersey devil #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #nico hischier #john marino

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hey!! Could you possibly write a John Marino x Reader where she has a pregnancy scare while he’s away and debates telling him cause they had a conversation about not being ready for kids? Angst preferably!

[ positively negative ] j. marino

paring : John Marino x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) thinks she’s pregnant while John is on a short roadie, and she debates telling him about it once he gets home since they talked about how neither of them are ready for kids, though she thinks she might be more ready than she told John she was

warning(s) : angst ! mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, throwing up

author’s note : listen, john marino needs more love on this app so i will absolutely write anything for him 🫶🏼 enjoy, anon

༺═──────────────═༻

Something is very much wrong. When she gets sick, she never throws up.

Now, she's learning over the toilet and throwing up every single thing she ate for dinner the night before. It's nearly five in the morning and she's sick in the bathroom.

John is in Vancouver of all places right now so she can’t even call him because it’s two in the morning and he has a game tonight. She hates disturbing his sleep on game day, even when she doesn’t feel good. She knows he’d answer her call, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

The toilet paper runs out as she dries her lips. It was the only thing within reaching distance she could grab so she goes into the cabinet under the sink to grab a new roll.

What she sees instead scares the hell out of her.

An unopened box of tampons that she definitely bought more than a month ago sits in front of the rolls of toilet paper. She sits back on her feet and stares at the box in front of her.

It was three weeks ago when she and John had a whole conversation about how neither one of them were ready for kids. Not that she’s jumping to conclusions but she’s late for her period. It's probably only by a week but it is still enough to worry her.

She’s never been late. Not even when she was stressing out last season when the Devils made playoffs for the first time in five years.

The unopened box of tampons stares her down until she decides that she needs to get up off the bathroom floor and drag herself to the nearest drugstore and buy a pregnancy test. Maybe multiple to be on the safe side.

If a plus sign shows up on any of those sticks then she has no idea what she's going to do. Obviously she'll tell John and they can make a decision together but he made it very clear that he is focused on his career when they talked a few weeks ago, and she feels like she isn't ready to be a mother.

She doesn't have a steady job and doesn't want John to pay for every single thing if they were to have a baby. She wants to be financially stable, which she is far from at the moment.

As soon as she throws on a pair of black sweatpants and a one of John's red Devils hoodies, she walks out the door with the keys to the apartment.

It's colder outside than she thought it would be. It's been a little warmer outside than it usually is for mid-February, but not today.

The closest drugstore that is open isn't very far from the building she and John live in. She buys two boxes of tests, each box containing two tests each. That should be enough.

Her hands are shaking the entire walk back to the apartment. She has no idea if it's because she's cold or because she's nervous.

She doesn't think that John would tell her to get an abortion if any of the tests came back positive. She doesn't think he'd leave her to raise a baby by herself, but she is certain that he probably wouldn't be very happy about it.

Her phone dings with a text when she walks into the apartment. The first thing she sees is that it's six in the morning. The second thing she sees is that John texted her even though it's three in the morning for him right now.

johnny ♡ - 6:19 am i can't sleep so i wanted to let you know that i miss you. hope you have a good day when you see this <3

(Y/N) frowns and calls him instead of texting him back. He picks up the phone after two rings. "I wasn't expecting you to be up when I texted you," he says on the other end of the line.

"I don't feel good so I've been up for an hour," she admits to him as she walks into the master bathroom that's attached to their bedroom. "Why can't you sleep? I thought the jet lag would've gotten better by now." He's been gone for four days already.

He lets out a breathy laugh. "It's just one of those nights," he replies. "Plus I actually do miss you. I was thinking about you so I sent you that text."

She pulls the tests out of the plastic bag. "Such a romantic," she comments. She knows that there's a smile on his face that she can't see right now.

"You said you didn't feel good though," he says after a moment of silence between them. "What's going on?"

With a soft sigh, she says, "I woke up at five and ended up on the bathroom floor for a little bit. I think I'm okay." She's still very nauseous, but that could be her nerves since she's about to take a pregnancy test. "Um, I was going to wait to tell you this but since I have you on the phone, I am currently standing in our bathroom right now with two boxes of pregnancy tests on the sink because I was throwing up and I'm a little late for my period."

She's met with silence. Total silence. John doesn’t say a single word for about thirty seconds.

“Baby-”

“Don’t say that right now,” John snaps. She has to bite her bottom lip to keep from wincing at his tone. “I thought- we are safe every time. Do you really think that you’re pregnant?”

With a shrug that John can’t see, she replies, “I threw up. I never throw up and I’m never late for my period. I’m just doing this to make sure. I have multiple tests that I’ll take to double and triple check.”

More silence, except this time it’s a shorter moment than last time. “I need to, um, go to sleep,” John tells her. “Let me know what happens.”

“John-” she tries to say, but he’s too quick in hanging up the phone. Her throat closes up and her nausea returns at full force.

She retches into the toilet with a cry. “Fuck,” she cries as she recovers.

The pregnancy tests stare at her from the sink as she throws up again.

Yeah, she really has no idea what she’s going to do if one of those comes back as positive.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She’s angry.

That’s all she’s been feeling since that morning John hung up on her when she told him that she might be pregnant. That morning was two days ago.

He’ll be walking through the door any minute now. She’s sitting on the couch waiting for him.

If she’s learned anything in the past forty eight hours or so is that she’s more ready for kids than she thought she was. She loved a baby she didn’t actually have. She didn’t tell John the tests all came back negative because she was grieving a child that she wasn’t even expecting.

Keys jiggle in the door around eleven in the morning. It swings open and reveals a tired John Marino. He drags his suitcase in behind him and shuts the door once he and his things are in the apartment.

“Good road trip?” she asks from the couch. “Didn’t hear from you after you hung up the phone on me so I hope it went well.”

John freezes and looks over at her. “I, um … ” he trails off. His eyes fall to her belly. “Are you?”

She chucks one of the negative tests at him. “No,” she retorts as he looks at the test. “I’m not.” She pauses. “I want to know what you would’ve done if I was pregnant. You didn’t even hesitate to hang up the phone when I just mentioned the possibility that I was pregnant.”

He leaves his bags by the door and walks over to where she’s sitting. She’s doing everything in her power not to cry because right now, it seems like they might want two completely different things. Couples who have differing opinions on children rarely ever work out.

John takes a seat beside her with the test in his hand. “I wouldn’t leave you to raise a baby alone,” he tells her. “I also don’t think I was clear in our conversation before. If we were to expect a baby, I would need some time to get myself together but I would love you and Baby Marino so much. I wouldn’t leave either of you. I’m sorry if that came across as me leaving. I’m just not ready to start actually trying for kids.”

A tear spills onto her cheek and her bottom lip shakes.

“You wouldn’t run?”

“I wouldn’t run,” he assures her. “Like I said, I might need a second but I would never ever leave you to raise a baby alone. It takes two to make a baby and it’ll take two to raise one.”

John reaches out to brush away the tear that has rolled down her cheek. She leans into his touch. Usually when he comes back from a roadie, she’s immediately in his arms. Today she had to hold back because of how mad she was.

She blinks a few times and he comes back into focus. He has a small smile on his face. “I think I’m more ready to be a mother than I thought I was,” she admits. “I was so ready to love our baby and was more upset than relieved when those tests came back negative.”

“We’ll have a baby,” John tells her. “I promise. Just give me a little more time, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gives in and moves closer to her boyfriend. He wraps his arms around her instantly and she buries her face in his neck. John kisses the top of her head before he rests his cheek against her forehead.

“You’re okay though?” he questions. “Since you were throwing up.”

With a nod, she says, “I think it was food poisoning. Ate some bad seafood the night before.”

John laughs and shakes his head. “You would mistake food poisoning for being pregnant.”

“Shut up.”

༺═──────────────═༻

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[ladylooch]

Odds were against us - John Marino

A/N: My submission for @wyattjohnston Winter Fic Exchange 2k24! This is the first time I have participated in a fic exchange and wow has it been really fun for me! Thank you so much, Demi, for being a gracious host and your rockstar organization!

@pcttymcrlecu I hope you love this as much as I enjoyed creating it for you. Also, I am IN LOVE with the song inso for this. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was working on this. Thank you for sharing 🥰

Song Inspo: Solider by James TW

Word Count: 2.5k

The odds were against you. 

Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other. 

But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together. 

Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.

From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room. 

Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow. 

It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.

While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.

“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour. 

“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.”  Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath. 

“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”

“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”

“No. Like Colorado.”

Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.

“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh. 

“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.” 

You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?

But you don’t. 

Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go

- - - 

Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life. 

You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work? 

The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight. 

A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.

“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”

“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.

“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.” 

“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off. 

“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space. 

“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator. 

“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.

“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace. 

“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders. 

“There is! They gave me two whole levels!” 

“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.” 

“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too. 

“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed. 

“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide. 

“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!” 

“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in. 

“We have very different definitions of fitness.”

“I hope so, NHL player.”

“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”

“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter. 

“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.

“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.

Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard. 

John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it? 

“What do you think?” You finally ask.

“Honestly?” He murmurs.

“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.

“I wish this was our house.” 

You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else. 

“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?

“You are.” You whisper. 

It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded. 

“You’re my dream man, Johnny.” 

You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop? 

Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones. 

“I’m in love with you, Johnny.” 

“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes. 

“How are we going to do this?” 

“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment. 

“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”

Being brave is your second act.

The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game. 

The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.

Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”

“Your house-” 

“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.

In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee. 

“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?”  Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!

The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.

“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously. 

When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up. 

Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate. 

It’s been decided.

A forever commitment.

One that binds you and John as partners, who keep bending the odds and winning anyway.

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #John Marino x reader #John Marino Imagine #NHL imagine

[hischierdevils]

Moth to a Flame | J.M.

note: inspired by this song

summary: you and john have always been drawn to each other but now it may be too late for him to do something about it

warnings: angst with a fluff-ish ending (it may or may not rip your heart out @rowdyhughesy)

wc: 2.5k

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

John sits in his computer chair, picking at the arm rest as his mom goes on about something that’s happening in his hometown of North Easton. His brother Paul keeps asking his mother questions, keeping the conversation going so John doesn’t have to, something Paul has done since they were kids. 

The Marino family tries to have a video call at least once a week and it seems like their mom, Jen, feels the need to give the boys an update on every single person in their hometown. There’s only one person that John actually wants to hear about though, and he waits patiently for his mom to bring up their next door neighbors. 

He can still remember the day that you and your family moved in next door to him. It was the summer before third grade. He was outside in the driveway with Paul, shooting pucks at a trash can when a big uhaul pulled into the driveway next door. Their mom had told them that a family bought the house next door and they had a kid the same age as them. They were hoping for another boy to play with. 

They hadn’t expected you to climb out of that big truck and walk right over to them with your hand on your hip. They were both staring at you with mouths wide open as you flipped your hair over your shoulder and gazed at them both appraisingly. “Are you trying to play baseball with that thing?” 

John had looked down at the hockey stick in his hand, wondering how you could confuse it for a baseball bat. Paul, the outgoing twin, was already speaking up. “You’ve never seen a hockey stick before?” 

“Why would I ask if I knew what it was?” You were quick to sass Paul back and John found himself laughing at his twin's expression. No one had ever given it back to Paul like that. 

From that day forward, John was in awe of you. That first summer, more often than not, the three of you playing outside each day ended with you and Paul in some sort of argument. You’d leave to go back to your own yard in a huff but you always made sure to say goodbye to John. 

As the three of you grew up, you and John grew closer than you did with Paul. You confided in him about everything, he was your best friend. Both twins were protective of you as the three of you entered high school but anyone with eyes could see that there was something special between you and John. Both of your parents would even joke about your future wedding.

When John chose to join the USHL during senior year you cried and begged him to stay. You reminded him that he promised to take you to your senior prom. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you weren’t ready to let him go yet. He didn’t want to leave you or his brother, but he chose hockey. Paul ended up taking you to prom.

There wasn’t one big moment when John realized that he was in love with you. He just woke up one day and realized that he always had been. Watching you live your life through social media instead of being with you in person hurt him more than he thought possible. He often wondered who you were confiding in while he was gone. 

You texted each other every day, but he could feel you slipping away from him. You attended Boston College while he and Paul went to Harvard. With his hockey schedule, he couldn’t give you the attention he wanted to or that you deserved, so he never said anything about his feelings. 

“...and I was talking with Michelle the other day…” John snaps out of his thoughts and lifts his head up at the mention of your mom’s name. “She told me…oh I shouldn’t tell you.” Jen purses her lips in a laugh and John leans forward, knowing his mom is keeping something big a secret. 

“Now you have to tell us, Mom.” Paul laughs. “Can’t just leave us hanging like that.” John nods in agreement and their mother laughs. 

“Okay, but you can’t say anything to y/n!” John’s stomach does a little flip at the mention of your name. “Promise me!” Jen looks at her two boys through the computer screen expectantly. 

“I don’t even remember the last time I talked to y/n, ma. It’s been a couple weeks at least.” Paul says. 

John swallows a lump in his throat. “I promise.” He had talked to you just last night on the phone. If you had news why wouldn’t you tell him? Why did he have to hear it from his mom?

“Well, Michelle told me…” John realizes too late that he probably doesn’t want to hear whatever his mom is about to say. “Ethan stopped over the other day and talked with her and Greg. He asked for their permission to marry y/n!” 

John’s blood turns to ice. Ethan. The guy you started dating your senior year of college after John had gone to the NHL. John’s only met him a handful of times and he seems like an okay guy, but marriage? Were you actually going to marry this guy?

“Isn’t that exciting?” Jen prompts when neither boy speaks. 

“Uh, yeah. Great.” Paul is rarely at a loss for words. He glances at his younger brother nervously. John’s never mentioned his feelings for you to anyone but of course his twin knows. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“I uh, I have to go.” John says quickly before his mom can answer. He looks around his desk, trying to come up with an excuse and spots his empty container from dinner. “The boys and I are going to dinner.” Paul sees right through him but his mother wishes him well and says goodbye. 

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

John can’t help himself and immediately pulls up your instagram, checking to make sure there is no engagement announcement. The last post on your page is a picture of you, him, and Paul at Christmas. The three of you are wearing matching Christmas pajamas and you’re standing between the twins holding up the elf dvd you insist on watching every year. Your caption reads ‘my favorite time of year with my favorite people’. 

The picture before that is a picture of you with your parents sitting at a Devil’s game. You’re wearing John’s jersey and holding a sign that says ‘#6 my favorite baseball player’. He has to scroll a little bit to find a picture you posted of you and Ethan. 

It’s a simple birthday post from last summer, you’re both on a boat. He has an arm around you, smiling at the camera. You’re pressed to his side but the smile on your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

To further torture himself, John clicks on your tagged photos. While you barely post to your instagram account, Ethan and your friends use it regularly. All Ethan posts are pictures of the two of you, some of them are just pictures of you with long captions that read like a love letter to you. 

Your friends have also tagged you and Ethan in pictures. He finds one from Halloween. The two of you are dressed up in what is supposed to be a couple's costumes but he's dressed as Mario and you’re dressed as Princess Daisy. It makes John laugh, thinking of all the times you beat him in Mario Kart as Daisy. He always picked Luigi.  

He puts his phone away before he does something stupid like call you. The two of you talk every day in some form or another but since you ended your late night phone call last night, he hasn’t heard from you at all. Even his good morning text went unreplied this morning. 

Deep down he knew that Ethan had to be a good guy for you to stay with him for three years. He heard from his mom and friends from back home about how well he treated you and how in love with you he was. 

What’s funny is that no one in the last three years had ever mentioned to him how happy you were. If you were in love with Ethan or not. Any time you came to visit John or watch one of his games, you were always with your family or the Marino family. You never brought Ethan. 

Were you going to say yes?

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

John stayed up longer than he should’ve, hoping you’d call. He never went an entire day without talking to you, even if it was just a quick hello. It was getting close to eleven when he finally started making his way to his bedroom. He had practice in the morning and he could already tell that he was going to be tired. 

He brushed his teeth and then peeled his shirt off. He plugged his phone into the charger and was just about to take his pants off when there was a knock at the door. “Who the hell?” He muttered as he walked toward his apartment door. Mikey and Nate both lived nearby so he assumed it was one of them stopping in although the late hour made no sense. 

When he opened the door, all the breath was knocked out of him. The last person he expected to find standing in his doorway at eleven pm on a Thursday night was you. He could tell you had been crying. Your eyes were puffy and you had red splotches all over your face. The black dress you were wearing was fancy and your bare feet told him that you did at one point have heels on. If he didn’t know any better he’d say you were on the run. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asks once he finally finds his voice. 

You try to smile at him but end up sniffling. “Hey, Johnny. Can I uh, can I come in?”

“Of course.” He steps aside and lets you in, closing the door firmly behind you. 

You don’t walk very far into the living room, twirling a piece of hair around your finger nervously. “Did I wake you up? I’m so sorry I should’ve called.” You mumble as you take in his half-dressed appearance. 

“No, I was awake.” He can sense your nervousness. “Did you drive all the way here?” It’s about five hours from North Easton to Hoboken with traffic. 

“Yes, I, uh…” You try to laugh but it comes out as more of a sob. “I just got in the car. I didn’t know where I was going at first but then I just sort of ended up here…” You trail off as you look at him, gauging his reaction. 

John keeps some distance between the two of you, keeping his hands in fists at his sides so he doesn’t reach for you. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Seeing him so full of concern for you gives you the confidence you need to get your next question out. “Are you and I always just going to be friends?” 

The question weighs heavily on John who opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on: “What?”

“Ethan proposed to me tonight.” Anger and jealousy hit John at once and your words feel like a physical blow as he realizes the girl of his dreams is going to marry someone else. “He took me to a fancy dinner and ordered a big bottle of wine for the table-”

“Y/n, I don’t want to hear this.” John admits as he backs away from you. Every word you speak is another knife getting stabbed into his heart. “I can’t.” He’s always been a shoulder for you to cry on, but this is too much.

“Johnny.” Your voice is soft and he jumps a little when you place your cold hand on his bare forearm. “He got down on one knee and gave me a long speech about how much he loved me and then asked me to marry him. Do you want to know what I said?” 

There’s tears in his eyes as he forces himself to look at you. Unshed tears are shining in your eyes as well. He’s hoping with everything in him that you said no. 

“I said your name.” You shake your head with a laugh. “This wonderful man got down on one knee for me and the only thing I could think of is the boy I've loved since I was eight years old.”

John stares at you in shock, unsure if he heard you correctly as you start to cry. “Do you want to know the worst part? He forgave me! He still wanted me after I said your name. And what did I do? I ran out of the restaurant. I got in my car and I drove to you.” 

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as you sob into his bare chest. Your words replay over and over in his head as he rubs your back. The only thing I could think of is the boy I've loved since I was eight years old. You’ve been holding on to the same feelings that he had all these years? He realizes that you had five hours in the car to yourself. You could’ve turned around at any point and gone back to Ethan. You chose to come to him instead. 

“Everything’s going to be alright.” His voice is quiet as he tries to calm you down but you still hear him. 

You take a deep breath and pull away from his chest so you can look at him. “There’s something here, isn’t there?” 

John brings his hand up to wipe a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I think I've been in love with you since that first day when you talked back to Paul.” 

You laugh as you remember the first time you met the twins. “You were always so quiet. I didn’t think you liked me at first until I realized you were like that all the time.” John pulls you into him again, resting his chin on your head as you nuzzle into his chest. “I made a mess of things didn’t I?” You mumble.

“As long as we’re together, we can figure the rest out.” He assures you. 

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#john marino fic #john marino imagine #john marino x reader #my writing