#nhl x plus size!reader

[thecinematicwriter]

High School Pricks

Jack Hughes x Plus size,chubby!reader

Summary: You were at the restaurant with your fiancé, Jack, when some dumb boys from your high school decided to make you feel bad. Jack wouldn't let it pass though.

Sneek peak: "Yes. If you got a problem with that, leave and let me enjoy my food. And If you don't have a problem with that, do the same thing because I am on a date, like I said before, and we are trying to enjoy a peaceful dining. Thank you."

A/N: Hey y'all! I hope you guys are staying hydrated! I will write on a lot of people, but "sports dudes" are my soft spot so I hope you guys are ready! Also I will write for plus size and chubby readers from time to time (like right now). If you do not fall into this category: I'll post more soon don't worry!

⚠️This might be triggering for you if you have been bullied for your weight before.( I am truly sorry if you were, there are no reason nor excuses for this behavior from other useless people who bully for stupid reasons.)

The dress you were wearing was one of the cutest Jack had ever seen. And, at the same time the sexiest one too. He couldn't describe how he was feeling about it, but he knew that he was the luckiest man alive in his books. "Wow, baby! You look so good. Hell... I might explode right here. How do you think I will look next to you... For real?! I am a Rat next to you tonight."

The thing that made you smile was how genuine you knew every word coming out of his mouth were. He always said he was the luckiest to have found you, but he didn't know how you felt. Only you could know, because it was undescribable. "None sense. You look so handsome in that outfit. I didn't know you had an eye for fashion, babe. Where was it all this time?" You said mockingly. "It's barely fashion. I just put on a black suit." He came closer to you and took your jaw in his palm after chuckling at your statement. "Shall we go my Lady?" He asked you while looking directly in your eyes. "I guess we should. Or we'll be late..." You answered him, hypnotized by his beautiful eyes. "We can't have that, now can we?" He said with a smile. You simply hummed no and he kissed you deeply.

After some loving affection, you both were on you're way to your date night location. When you entered the restaurant, you were mesmerized by the big statement art hanging all around. Jack knew you loved admiring art and he smiled at your lovestruck face, feeling acomplished by this restaurant choice. When you two went to the host desk, it only took one minute to be seated and the ambiance was perfect. "Oh my god, Jack! This restaurant, it's..." You looked around with a huge smile. "Amazing, perfect... wow." You looked at him and showed him your satisfaction. "I knew you would love it here, baby. I found this place because Quinn visited it earlier in the month and thought of you so he gave me the info." He took your hand on the table and rubbed your thumb with his. "Then, I'll make sure to thank him for it-"

Before you could continue your usual date ramble, a group of men about your age came forward. "Yo! Jack!" Jack turned around to see who was interupting you and when he saw the three men walking towards you two, he figured there were fans. "Hey... How can I be of help?" He asked politely while making a sorry face to you. It happened quite a lot when you were on date nights. You didn't mind though, you loved seeing Jack so pationate about his job. "We just wanted to tell you how good your last game was. Honestly, we've been fans for a while now and you keep getting better and better." They cheered your fiancé on. "That means so much, man. Thank you!-" Before Jack could continue interacting with them, one of the boys looked at you and you smiled at him. "Oh. My. God. Boys... it's Y/N Y/L/N. Damn!" The three of them looked at you and you didn't know why they knew you. Yes, I mean, you were public with Jack, but they seemed to know you from somewhere else. "Jack, are you on a date with her?" The middle blond guy asked him. "Well, of course. She's my fiancé." Jack smiled at you lovingly while saying the last part. The boys started laughing. These laughs...

Now, you remembered. They were from your high school days. The ones who were always making fun of you for your weight. They never stopped. Even if you were reading in class peacefully, they would always taunt you for the way you looked.

"What's wrong? The idea of me having a fiancé is making you laugh?" Jack didn't like their laughs. They sounded mean and unnecessary. "Nah, man. Just... her? Of all the girls you could have?!" They looked at him like he had lost his mind and you reclined in your seat which didn't go unoticed by Jack. "Yes. If you got a problem with that, leave and let me enjoy my food. And If you don't have a problem with that, do the same thing because I am on a date, like I said before, and we are trying to enjoy a peaceful dining. Thank you." You were shocked at how rude Jack was being. You had never seen him like this with any fan. He looked at you and gave you a smile to reassure you. "Chill... all this for a fat girl." That was the last straw for your soon to be husband. He stood up from his chair and looked at them dead in the eyes. "You better leave right now. I am not listening to any other stupid comment leaving your mouth. What if she's bigger than others? She still won my heart because she is amazingly pretty and so is her body. You're a pathetic excuse of a man." Jack spat right into their faces while you wiped your small tears away. "We're just saying... you could probably score a perfect thin girl who is head over heels for you. Instead, you chose... this." While saying the last word, he looked at you in disgust. "Just shut up! I am happy! More than you, I might bet. So please... leave us alone and bring your nagativity with you. These comments don't affect me anymore." You lashed out. Jack was prouder than ever. You wouldn't let some stupid highschool A athlete wanna be ruin your perfect restaurant get out with your fiancé. "We're sorry I guess. We'll leave." All the men looked at you shocked and left you two alone.

You sat down and looked in space still in shock. "You did good baby. I love you." Jack tried to get you back on earth while placing his hands on yours. "I love you too. I am just tired of pathetic men thinking they are better than everyone." You said looking at Jack, still frustrated by this encounter. "So these pricks were at your highschool?" You nodded with a sad smile. "I'm so sorry, baby." "It's okay, babe. I just want to eat at this amazing restaurant with the most handsome man and the best hockey player in my heart." You exclaimed, gaining your cheeriness back. "Atta girl." He clasped his hands together and opened his menu.

The rest of the night was perfect. The food had one of the best presentation ever (following the decorations' path). It helped that the taste was also to die for. You paid and then Jack brought you to a park late at night and surprised you with a sweet bottle of bubbles. You kissed under the stars and all of the bad parts of the night faded away. Even most of the bad memories from your high scool faded with them. Because that's what Jack did; He kept you safe and protected.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #nhl x reader #nhl #jack hughes x plus size!reader #jack hughes x chubby!reader #nhl x y/n #nhl x plus size!reader #nhl x chubby!reader

[sweettomyhoney]

personally i would love to read a fic where y/n catches an assault charge for fighting a reporter who said something outta line about her man lmao

𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕠𝕦𝕥- 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨.𝕋𝕜

𝙿𝚘𝚟: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖��𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠.

𝙰𝙽: 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙼𝚛. 𝚃𝚔𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

Prof read is a no/ this is a long one

———————————————————

Matthew knew what type of woman he had on his hands from the day one. You were sweet, kindhearted and loving. You were the girl of his dreams and his family absolutely adored you. After all, you did have a temper that only a Tkachuk could love. You were a perfect match for Matthew.

On the other hand, you were a force to be reckoned with. If someone even dared to test your gangster you would give them exactly what they dished out. You were a very protective person, especially when it came to Matthew, or the people that you loved. You were not afraid to get your hands dirty if need be. And today was not the day for someone to want to get on your bad side.

Moving from Calgary to Florida was a huge transition for you and Matthew. But, the both of you knew as long as you had each other everything would be fine. Sadly, ever since you’ve gotten settled in the state it seems like the chaos had not stopped. From unpack, adjusting schedules, getting settled at work, time difference, dealing with new people, and Matthew traveling, it was overwhelming. Now, your main concern was making it through family media day.

Today was the first family day for Matthew with his new team. Since you are now Matthew‘s wife, that ment your day would be filled with nonstop interviews from different local media outlets.For the most part things went smooth, until your last interview with a reporter from a hockey podcast you were not familiar with.

You made your way to your designated interview room hoping to be joined by your husband. As you took your seat ,you were informed it was a solo interview due to Matthew needing to meet with the NHL Network. Then a older blonde women entered the room.

•“Mrs. Tkachuk! it is so nice to meet you.” She said with a smile.

• “Hello it’s nice to meet you too” You reply happily.

• “You are even more beautiful in person.” She said now shaking your hand.

•“I’m Carla. Media Manager for the Panthers and I wanted to introduce you to your interviewer today.” She continued.

Before you could even get a word in, a much younger brunette entered the room.

•“You’re the new WAG I need to interview right?” The brunette said coldly.

•“Yeah that is me, and my name is (y\n) btw.” You replied confused.

•“Not important we are here about Matthew anyway.” She replied with an eye roll

•“Matthew will not be joining us for this interview.” Carla introjected.

• “Great! Another interview with an air head.” The brunette muttered under her breath.

• “Excuse me?” You replied taken back.

• “ Well! I will leave y’all to it!” Carla said quickly before leaving the room.

• “This is going to be fun!” You said to yourself sarcastically.

You then made your way over to your designated seat. The camera crew made sure that your mic was on,and that the lighting was working for you. Once everything was good the interview started.

•“ 3.2.1… Action! ” The camera man counted down.

• “ Welcome back to the Hockey Babes Podcast! I am Brianna! Today I am joined with the new Mrs. Matthew Tkachuk!” The brown haired reporter said enthusiastically.

• “Oh so you have a name? Brianna is it?” You said with a smile.

• “Yes! That is me.” She replied with a hair flip.

• “But anyway! Let’s get into the questions shall we?” Briana said sharply.

• “ We shall.” You replied trying to play nice.

• “So (y/n) what is it like marrying into the most hated NHL family?” Brianna said with a smile.

•“ Excuse me? Hate is a strong word don’t you think?” You replied taken back.

• “ Well it’s not like you married into a truly classy family like the Nylander’s. The Tkachuk’s do have a reputation for being white trash.” She said with a laugh.

“Is this bitch for real?” You thought to yourself. What type of interviewer asks a question like that. You were trying so hard to keep your patience. Luckily, It was the last interview of the day. All you needed to do was get through this last thing, then you were back with your loving husband. You continued to answer the question as calmly as possible.

• “ I do understand that my husbands family has a reputation for playing rough. But, white trash is the last thing that they are. Also, if you were good at your job you would know what WE Tkachuk’s are pretty close to the Nylander’s . My husband was drafted the same year as Alex. Also, his former team mate Auston Matthews now plays on the same line and team as William. So, I am pretty sure if we weren’t classy we wouldn’t be as close as we are.” You said confidently.

•“ You keep telling yourself that.” She replied laughing it off

• “So how did you and Matthew meet exactly?” Brianna continued with a snarky grin.

• “It was after he was drafted. I work with nonprofit organizations with the goal to make sports accessible to everyone. I have worked with Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and Dicks Sporting Goods. I met Matthew when the Calgary Flames volunteered to work with at risk kids. I have been in love with him ever since.” You replied reminiscing on the very moment you knew Matt was the one. 

•“ How cute! Got to make up for the lack of talent he has somehow. Glad to see you have a working brain as well!” she said light heartedly.

•“ What do you mean by that?” You replied getting angrier by the second.

•“ I mean you are with the less successful brother. Brady is the youngest captain in the NHL. And tell me what exactly Matthew has accomplished?” She remarked doubling down on her rude comments.

“ You know what? I think this interview is over!” You said angrily as you stood to take off your mic.

“Aww…Did I make the Air Head mad?” Brianna said antagonizing you.

Before you could think, you lunged at her your fist connecting with her face. You grabbed her hair and pulled her out of her seat. You were full on twirling on this hoe.

• “YOU WANNA TALK SHIT LIKE A BITCH THEN IMMA DOG WALK YOU LIKE ONE!” you said dragging her across the floor.

• “ RIGHT BITCH! WRONG IDEA! DON’T EVER TRY TO BAD MOUTH MY FAMILY HOE!” You screamed as security and Matthew proceed to try a pull you two apart.

•“ Y/N IT’S OKAY! IT IS OKAY! YOU GOT HER! IT’S OKAY” you heard Matthew yell as he held you back from going at her again.

As Security dealt with Brianna, Matthew walked you to the medical room. You took a seat on the patient table. Matthew tried to calm you down as best as he could. You had a few scratches, so Matthew decided to find some things to clean you up. When you were calm enough, Matthew asked you what exactly happened.

•“ Baby what happened? Are you okay?” Matthew asked you wrapping his arms around you.

•“ NO! I am not okay! I just spent the last 45 minutes listening to my family be bad mouthed by a random podcast bitch.” You said brokenhearted.

• “ WHAT!” Matthew replied now upset at what he was hearing.

• “ YES! That bitch was talking about how the Tkachuk’s are white trash. How you are not successful cause you’re not a captain yet! And a bunch of other shit about my intelligence!” You told Matthew getting upset again.

• “ That is fucked up! I’ll take care of whatever bullshit comes next okay?You don’t have to worry about that. But,I want to make sure you are okay?” Matthew said concerned.

• “Well I just whooped her ass, so I guess I’m good” you said brushing your tears away.

• “ You did get her pretty good babe. Maybe you are a Tkachuk after all. I should take a few fights lessons from you. ” Matthew said cracking a grin.

• “ Matthew shut up!” You replied rolling your eyes.

• “ What? All I’m saying is that my father would definitely be proud of you.” Matthew replied causing you to crack a little smile.

• “ You think?” You asked looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

• “ I know for sure my little hot head.” Matthew continued leaning into kiss your forehead.

• “ Now you lay back and rest I’m going to sort this all out. Then we will be on our way home.” Matthew added giving you another forehead kiss.

• “ You don’t think I’ll have to deal with the police right?” You questioned him before he left the room.

• “ No way! The most that will happen is needing to pay a fine. Also you know I have a Fight Fine Fund. Triple F for short .” Matthew reassured you with a slight laugh.

• “It is the NHL after all.” You said laying your head down on the padded table.

Matthew managed to sort some things out for you. The most you had to pay was a fine of 8,000 bucks. This was a standard financial investment for Matthew. The man had 100k stocked for fines he might rack up during the season. Brianna on the other hand, was prohibited to conduct any future interviews with the Panthers. In the end, never mess with a woman who is in love with a man like Matthew Tkachuk. You will end up with your ass beat.

PS: I HOPE THIS DOSE YOUR REQUEST JUSTICE 😘💪

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk smut #hockey #nhl #hockey tea #nhl imagines #black nhl imagines #nhl plus size imagines #florida panthers #Florida Panthers imagines #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #nhl wag #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl players

[orphicdreamers-wp]

3am Calls — Trevor Zegras

Summary: In which following your hurtful breakup, you find yourself calling Trevor with your unanswered questions.

Summary; Angst without happy ending, cheating(trevor), body insecurities, low self esteem, depression, Jamie Drysdale kind of being a douche, heartbreak, Mid/plus size reader, Dixie Damelio slander(sorry)

Pairing: Trevor Zegras & Reader

You’d met Trevor through his teammate Jamie, you’d gone to high school with him and had tutored him his sophomore year, which was your senior year. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated, until you moved to Anaheim. You had gone to Cornell Veterinary School and moved to Anaheim and opened a vet clinic. You were introduced to Trevor when Jamie brought Trevor’s dog, Louie in because he wasn’t eating and was vomiting blood. You had been administering medication when Trevor hurried in the room, “Jamie what the hell happened?” Jamie turner to his roommate , “Trevor this is Y/N the vet. Y/N this is Trevor, Louie’s his dog.”

You felt the wind leave your throat, “It seems he just had an allergic reaction to something he’s eaten. His breathing was a little shallow so I gave him some medication and I’m gonna prescribe some of it as I’m worried about his breathing.” Trevor’s eyes met you and a small smile on his face, “Thank you so much.” You smiled, “Just doing my job, hi baby.” You smiled lightly as Louie stirred on the table and rubbed his face against your hands. Trevor smiled at the scene in front of him, “I’m suprised, Lou doesn’t usually like new people.” Jamie grinned, “Oh she’s the master of animals loving her. She was my tutor in high school.” Trevor grinned widely as your cheeks flushed, “Maybe I should get your number in case something else happens to Louie.”

You grinned as you pulled out a business card from your scrub pocket, “Feel free to call me with any questions you may have.” You ran a hand through Louie’s fur, “I feel bad running out but I have twenty minutes for my lunch and I have to go all the way back to my place because I was in a rush this morning. It was great seeing you again Jamie, nice meeting you Trevor.” You hurried out of the exam room and had your vet tech go in and help them get the paperwork done.

You and Trevor quickly began dating after that. Your relationship was perfect, Trevor was kind, funny and attentive to you at all times. But you couldn’t help but find yourself wondering if you and Trevor were really meant to be. Trevor was a stereotypical attractive athlete who had women throwing themselves at him. You were a plus sized woman who had no interest in the spotlight. So when rumors of Trevor dating a effortlessly beautiful and thin social media influencer, it was no surprise you let it get the best of you.

Trevor had reassured you that he was not involved with the influencer, you didn’t believe him but that was expected when a photo of them standing next to each other in an amusement park. But that wasn’t even the worst of it, you’d had by far the worst day at work, you had to euthanize 3 dogs and 2 cats. All you wanted to do when you arrived to your shared apartment with Trevor was take a scorching shower and lay in bed. You opened the door to the apartment yawning as you slipped off your shoes and entered the living room. You dropped your tote bag on the coffee table as you made your way to the bathroom to start the shower.

You had started the water and made your way to the bedroom to grab clothes. You felt your throat tighten and your stomach churn as you pushed the door open. A small squeak came from beside the bed. You blinked rapidly as your eyes met a pair of bright brown doe eyes. You felt your voice come out as a whisper, “I can’t believe him.” You slammed your dresser drawer shut as you walked into the bathroom and shut off the water and made your way into the living room. Trevor was leaning against the counter sipping water as his sweatpants hung lowly on his hips, “Hi hon, I didn’t realize you were home yet.”

You bit your tongue, “I’m sure you didn’t. How was your day? Do anything fun?” Trevor felt a sense of panic in his chest, “Nope, just practice and grabbed drinks with the guys. How was work?” You picked up your tote bag and slipped on your shoes, “I’m out of here, I can’t do this anymore. I trusted you and you lied to me. You said there was nothing going on with her. I can’t do this Trev, I won’t.” Trevor felt his heart stop, “Baby, you can’t just give up on this. Please? Jamie said that I would be able to fix this, please.” You shook your head, “I don’t have to. You already did.” You walked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind you.

You found yourself at your clinic, you didn’t have anywhere to go. You hadn’t really connected with any of the girlfriends of Trevor’s teammates. You knew Jamie would side with Trevor because they’d been friends for years especially when Trevor said Jamie had encouraged him. And your hectic work hours didn’t allow you to make friends easily. So you went to the one place that was truly yours, your work. You sat on the floor in your office staring at the wall.

Your phone was blowing up with texts from Trevor. You ignored them until the last one, ‘I’m sorry for this. I asked them not to post it.’ You furrowed an eyebrow as a new notification from Entertainment Weekly on Twitter. You clicked the notification and were met with an article saying that Trevor and Dixie Damelio confirmed their relationship. You felt bile form in your stomach as you locked your phone.

Six months had passed since then and you still found yourself staring intently at yourself whenever you walked past a mirror. You always found something wrong in the reflection, whether the shirt you wore was too tight on your breasts, the pants you wore were too tight on your legs, your thighs were too large, your arms jiggled as you walked, no matter what you found yourself picking yourself apart. Granted you did it occasionally while you were with Trevor and before you two started dating. But it was different after being cheated on.

Before you didn’t pay mind to the harsh comments people made as you walked past them on the street, or from behind you in a restaurant line. But now you found yourself shrinking smaller whenever a negative comment was made. That’s what led you to your current predicament. You were sitting on the floor of your new apartment’s bedroom. A full body length mirror in front of you. Your cheeks were stained with tears as you reached for your cell phone.

You knew you shouldn’t do it, he was happy, he’d moved on. You found yourself checking his girlfriends instagram account and overanalyzing your body compared to hers. You clicked his contact and let it ring. You took in a deep breath as his raspy voice filled your ears, “Y/N what’s up?” You sniffled as you realized that you had probably woken him, it was 3 in the morning. You shook your head, “Nothing, I shouldn’t have called. Forget it.”

Trevor’s voice filled your ears, “I can tell your crying. It’s not nothing if your crying. What’s wrong?” You sniffled, “I guess I was just trying to figure out what I did wrong. I mean why wasn’t I enough Trev?” Trevor felt his heart split wide open, “Baby you were enough. It was me who wasn’t.” You shook your head, “Don’t give me that bullshit Trev, what can I fix for the next person? I mean is it my body, I can change that. I just don’t want to ever feel like this again.” If Trevor thought his heart couldn’t break any further, your words made a fool of him.

“No, you were perfect. I was too immature for someone like you. Your the most perfect person I know, I wasn’t ready for someone to expect that of me. Especially you. I should have communicated with you but I was drunk and Jamie was encouraging me to flirt with Dixie, I was lonely, we’d been fighting and I shouldn’t have done it. It’s not you.” You shook your head as you sniffled, “I really loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I just I have to move on from that.” With that you hung up the phone.

#hockey player x reader #fanfic #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras angst #tz11 #anaheim ducks #jamie drysdale #veterinary #trevor zegras x plus size reader

[withwritersblock]

Champagne Supernova

~Champagne Supernova by Oasis~

Author's note: this is inspired by the TV show My Mad Fat Diary because I was listening to this song and reminded me of the whole show. So this is loosely inspired by Rae and Finn. So this plus size reader :) Summary: Luke comforts Y/N after being nervous about being seen together.

Warnings: some triggering language regarding weight and personal image Word Count: 1,566 Luke Hughes x plus size fm!reader

She stared at her reflection contemplating if the New Jersey Devils sweater on her body was too tight. She tugged it at different places before she let out a groan. She moved towards her vanity, she sat down and pulled a headband on her head to pull her hair away from her face to get her makeup on.

Tomorrow is the stadium series for the New Jersey Devils and her long-term boyfriend Luke. They’ve been together ever since freshman year of high school. She tapped the small button beneath her vanity mirror to turn on the bright light to help her put her makeup on. 

She had soft music playing in the background as she slowly began to add primer to her skin. Luke knocked on the bedroom door before peeking his head into their shared bedroom. He smiled as he saw the hints of the forty-three on the back.

“Devils stuff looks good on you,” he mumbled as he leaned down and ran his hands from her shoulder down her sides. He delicately pressed his lips to the top of her head. She smiled softly as she began dabbing her face with her beauty blender. “I’m excited to show you off to my teammates,” he muttered before he flopped down on the beanbag sitting beside the vanity.

He tilted his head back against the wall as he admired her features. 

She has always been plus sized, well before they were in a relationship together. Luke has always found her the most beautiful girl in the world. They had three classes together their freshman year and Luke spent the majority of the first semester trying to convince her to go on a date with him.

In all honesty from the first time he asked her out, she was convinced he was doing it as a joke. It was hard to believe a handsome tall, athletic man like Luke would want someone like her. She never found herself pretty because of her weight. How could someone like him ever want someone like her?

But he did, and he spent months trying to prove to her how genuine he was. It took four months for her to finally say yes. He had spent every moment he could making sure she was happy and she was loved.

He’s been in love with her since the moment he saw her and six years later nothing has changed. At least he thought nothing had changed. 

After being drafted for the NHL and officially playing for the team this season; Y/N has felt something shift in her confidence. She’s never wavered in her confidence level throughout their relationship. The occasional thought that he was staying with her out of convenience would come into her mind. But Luke would look at her with the same look he did the first time he said ‘I love you’ and the thought would disappear. 

The more she started going to his games, she noticed the size of the other girlfriends of the players. How much more petite and bleached blonde they looked. It was hard to go up and say she was also dating one of the players. So, she never did. She would stay in the stands and watch instead of the WAGs suite.

“You’re staring,” she mutters as she begins to powder her features. 

“I don’t see you enough anymore, I miss looking at ya,” he mutters as he delicately tapped his knee against her side. She smiled softly as she continued her makeup routine. 

She felt her heart race as she continued to do her makeup. “I miss looking at you too,” she mumbled. He stood up slowly. He towered over her as he leaned down, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He took a hold of her chin, smiling softly as he leaned down and delicately kissed her.

He pulled away, only for a moment before he kissed her again. “Lukey,” she mumbled against his lips. He took a deep breath before pulling away only a few inches.

“I know,” he mumbled, “You have to get ready,” he let out before he planted another kiss on her lips before he slowly began to walk away. “I’m going to take a quick shower, my love,” he smiled towards her as he left the bedroom. 

It took another thirty minutes before she was done with her makeup, she was unsatisfied with how it looked. Nothing seemed to make her look how she wanted to. Her makeup wasn’t sitting right and her hair was not looking how she wanted it to. She stood in front of the mirror as she ran her hand over her sides. The curves weren’t in the right spot, nothing seemed to make her look good or feel confident. 

He knocked on the door again before he entered the room wearing the red and black Devils beanie and the bright red zip up. She forced a smile on her lips as she met his eye through the mirror. “You look beautiful,” he said as he shut the door behind him as he walked towards her. She clenched her jaw as she pursed her lips forward. He squinted his eyes, “What’s on your mind?” he asked as he delicately placed his hands on her hips. She pulled away from him, blinking rapidly.

“I don’t know if I should go,” she mumbled. His face fell as he watched her walk towards the bed.

“Why not?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pulled her lips together as she kept her gaze on the small blanket in front of her.

“Luke, there’s going to be cameras,” she let out, her voice breaking.

“So?” he pleated, “I want them to meet you! I’m always bragging about my super amazing girlfriend and they keep wanting to meet you!” he expressed, delicately reaching his hand to take a hold of her arm. She pulled her arm away from his grasp.

“And what are they going to think when they look at me?” she countered, turning her gaze to meet his eye. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Why do you care about what they think?” he asked, gesturing behind him. Her lips began to quiver as she tilted her head back.

“Because do you know how much better you could do than me?” she offered, her lips quivering. He shook his head while pursing his lips forward. “You’re a professional athlete, you could easily get some celebrity who’s skinny and pretty-”

“Where’s all of this coming from?” Luke asked, shaking his head. She paused as her mind was racing. “Y/N, since when did you think about stuff like that?”

“I’ve always thought about stuff like that! Every time we take a picture I think about how people will look at it and think,  “What’s he doing with that ugly fat ass, he could do so much better.” Fan girls are ruthless, Luke! I don’t want them to look at me and think-”

“I don’t care about what they think!” he shouted back. She rolled her eyes while letting out a huff of air.

“I do!” she yelled back. 

“The only two opinions that should matter are mine and yours!” He took a step towards her, looking deeply into her teary eyes. “I look at you and all I see is the most beautiful girl in the world!” 

“You know that’s not true,” she let out while shaking her head.

“That’s my opinion! I get to decide who I think is beautiful. I get to decide who I want to love! You have no idea how I see you. You are beautiful and sexy and smart and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N. That’s the opinion that should matter, not what some fourteen year old girl says in a Tiktok comment,” he explained while scanning her features. 

She smiled softly as he spoke. “I love you,” she let out quietly as her voice broke. He smiled softly as he engulfed her in a hug, she blinked harshly as she leaned her head against his chest.

They hugged for a few more seconds before she pulled away, he waited until she was ready to separate. She looked into his eyes before she wiped the small tears that fell on her cheek. Her gaze looked towards the beanie that was too big for his head and a chuckle fell from her lips. 

“What?” he asked, chuckling.

“You look like the Cat in the Hat with that,” she let out as she pointed towards the hat. He rolled his eyes playfully as he wrapped his arms around her waist as he rocked her back and forth.

“The what? The what?” he asked teasingly as he swayed them back and forth. A laugh fell from their lips as he slowly pulled away from her. “You ready?” he muttered. 

“Let me fix this,” she motioned towards the small smears of mascara beneath her eyes. His mouth fell open shortly before it clammered shut. “I’ll be ready in five minutes,” she mumbled before pressing her lips against his cheek.

“Okay, Darling,” he muttered with a wide smile before he plopped down on the beanbag chair. She stared towards him suspiciously. “I like watching you do your makeup,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes as she smiled towards him before she sat back down at her vanity.

#nhl #nhl imagines #nj devils #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #Luke hughes imagines #luke hughes fanfic #new jersey devils #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #hockey #hockey x reader #hockey imagines

[comphy-and-cozy]

Third Time’s the Charm - Tyson Jost

Pairing: Tyson Jost x plus sized!Reader (f)

Summary: Tyson Jost has been your best friend since you were kids. After a drunken hookup, you thought you’d lost him forever - that is, until he gets traded to the Minnesota Wild, conveniently the city in which you now reside. Will the former flame return when you reunite, or has the time changed everything forever?

Word Count: 11.1K

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @jostystyles for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange! I had an absolute blast writing this, and I tried to factor in as many of Emmie’s requests as I could (including several appropriately-placed Harry mentions, of course). Hope you enjoy, and happy belated birthday, sweetness! Also huge s/o to Demi for beta reading and daydreaming over Tys with me. ☺️🖤

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY) and angst (but a happy ending I promise). Alcohol use/mention and drunk hookup reference, language, plus sized body insecurity/themes, mutual pining, mentions of The Trade, oral sex (m + f receiving), protected sex, (1) overused trope, and multiple Harry Styles references.

Masterlist

Part 1: The Reunion

It was like any other Tuesday when you got the news, scrolling Twitter on your lunch break when a headline caught your eye.

BREAKING: TYSON JOST TRADED TO WILD BY AVALANCHE FOR NICO STURM

The name struck you, familiar and foreign all at once. You hadn’t seen him in years, and outside of the occasional birthday text or Instagram message, you hardly spoke to him, either. But here he was, apparently moving to Minnesota all the same.

When you were kids, you were inseparable. On your first day of kindergarten, you had burst into tears immediately upon walking into the school. A small, dark haired boy with curly hair walked right up to you, gave you a hug, and took your hand, leading you to your classroom with a smile. That boy was Tyson Jost. You hadn’t known it yet, but he would soon become your first — and best — friend.

He was your first kiss on the playground in the 3rd grade, blushing in the alcove of the slide on the jungle gym. A girl in your class dared you to do it, and you were determined, marching right up to him and kissing him on the mouth, before sticking your tongue out at him and sliding down the spiral slide.

In middle school, you went to your first dance with another boy, but ended the night in tears and outside on the swings with Tyson when you caught your date kissing someone else. The next dance, you went with Tyson platonically, awkwardly swaying while his hands rested firmly on your upper hip, looking anywhere but in your eyes.

When he moved away to British Columbia to go to the hockey academy, you’d cried for a week, the loss insurmountable to your teenage self. Despite being hours away from your best friend, you’d talked every night on the phone, trying to act like nothing had changed, keeping each other abreast of the updates in your day.

But, over time, those phone calls became less frequent, and the updates became more vague. Tyson got busier with travel and was being seriously scouted, and you were involved with your own studies and extracurriculars. Tyson was never gone completely, though – you worked part time at the concession stand of the local hockey rink, and every dark haired boy that ordered chicken fingers had him dancing across your mind, wondering what he was doing, fingers twitching to send him a text.

Things changed even more once he got drafted to the Avalanche. Despite the distance that had grown between you through the years, disappointing but understood by both of you as part of life, you still made the invite list for his first NHL game, sitting with his mom and sister in the stands. In celebration of the thrilling shootout win, you later ended the night tangled with Tyson in the sheets, a drunken and awkwardly not-that-awkward hook up that transformed your relationship forever.

Since that night, you hadn’t spoken. You’d slipped out of the bed and disappeared too early for him to wake up and put the pieces together, and the lack of phone call, text, pigeon carrier confirmed your beliefs that it was a stupid, terrible mistake that cost the both of you a best friend.

You hadn’t seen him since that night either, only the occasional update on his Facebook or Instagram, but you knew he was looking good – better than you ever remember him looking, the professional training certainly doing excellent things for his physique. You’d never really processed that night with him, having never really looked at him like that, because he was just… Tyson. Not NHL player Tyson Jost, not playboy extraordinaire, just Tyson, your friend.

And that’s what he was when you sent him a text, the ‘would love to catch up over lunch!’ masking the apprehension in the thumb that hovered over the send button for longer than you’d care to admit. Was he still just Tyson? Had his years in the NHL, making millionaire money, traveling all across the globe changed him from that curly-headed little boy you’d met all those years ago? Did the night between the sheets, whispers of his name falling from your lips while his hands danced over your body, change who he was to you?

Tyson got the text as he was scrolling through Instagram, searching his recent following for some new Minnesota prospects, replacing the slew of Denver girls he could hit up when he needed a night horizontal. Blonde, brunette, redhead, curvy, thin, busty — he didn’t discriminate.

He was 3 months deep in a girl’s feed, a blonde with the middle name ‘Rose’, when his eyes flicked up to the top of his screen, blinking a moment to register the name he was no longer accustomed to seeing texts from. Immediately, he abandoned whatshername to read the message you’d sent him, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise at the lunch invitation.

Truthfully, he’d completely forgotten that you were in Minnesota — working in Minneapolis, if he remembered correctly from a Facebook post months ago. He was delighted to hear from you, pushing away the pang of guilt he always felt whenever you crossed his mind; he regretted the way that he’d let you slip away and out of his life. He hadn’t meant to; you were never meant to be the kind of friend that turned into a childhood best friend, but life had happened and before he knew it, that’s what you had become.

He’d be lying if he said that night didn’t still cross his mind, never speaking of it aloud. He remembered waking up alone, the faded smell of your perfume still lingering on the pillow beside him. No note, no text, no nothing — just gone, vanished from your life like it never happened. He assumed you’d left with regret in your heart, the forbidden act between two friends an invisible line crossed in thousands of ways, so he never reached out. Never called, never said anything, just letting the memory fade.

Setting up lunch was easy, a few friendly texts exchanged before deciding on a time and place. New to the city, he followed your suggestion and said he’d show up wherever you told him to. When the day came, you were almost embarrassed at the anxiety that bubbled inside of you, the kind of anticipation that made you change your shirt three separate times to make sure you exuded the right amount of not-trying-too-hard-but-still-cute-enough-that-you-know-I’ve-got-my-shit-together. Fortunately, Tyson’s easygoing nature made the initial greeting more natural than if you had led it, not knowing if a hug was inappropriate after all of the years of half-assed birthday texts and the unspoken elephant in the room. He’d scooped you up into his arms before you’d barely managed to get a “hey” out, and you immediately took comfort in his proximity.

The warm up was a bit uncomfortable, despite the all-too-easy softball questions that came with a reunion like this, the how have you been?s, how’s your mom?s, what are you doing for work now?s. Deep down, you both knew that you shouldn’t have to be answering these questions, that it felt counterintuitive with someone who once knew you inside and out. Still, you answered them in stride, giving him the updates he needed and easily making the transition to his very recent move to Minnesota and, simultaneously, his farewell to Denver.

When he told you about JT, you were surprised that there was no inkling of jealousy, rather, comfort knowing that he’d found someone else to take your place, to be that anchor for him in the new phase of his life — and certainly, you thought, someone that would never cross the physical line you had, betraying the friendship you’d built over many years in the course of one drunken night. It was not, and would never be, a competition, and you harbored no resentment at how things had turned out. You couldn’t help but wonder what JT was like — did he have the same sense of humor as you? What was their favorite thing to do together? Were you friends with the same Tyson?

With each laugh, each new quality revealed, you felt the invisible barrier between you breaking down slowly, still seeing flashes of the same Tyson you once confided in for everything, comforted to know that not everything had changed. All of it was surface conversation, though, and you both knew it. It was a strange feeling, to be sitting in front of someone so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time, like riding a bike and remembering how to steer, pedal, and balance all at once, before the muscle memory kicks in.

“D’you remember that time that you fell in the frozen pond by your house?” he asked, out of the blue, as you were taking a sip of your water.

Boom. There went the barrier, the remaining fragments tumbling down into a heap on the table, shattered in an instant.

“Oh my god, that was so terrifying!” you exclaimed, shaking your head at the memory. “I thought I was going to drown right then and there. It was so cold, and I freaked out. And then when we got back to my house and I was shivering and soaked, you told my mom —“

“—it’s all in the past, Miss Lynn!” he finished, causing you to double over, nodding as you laughed.

“To this day, whenever that comes up, my mom still says that you saved my life. You were the one who told me not to panic and to swim slowly,” you said once the giggles had subsided.

“Yeah, I never got a Boy Scout badge for that one,” he grinned.

The memories came out naturally, laughing jovially as you recalled each one with fondness and the fair share of giggles, the nostalgia what you needed to solidify the reconnection. Before you knew it, you realized you’d been there for three hours — five years of silence vanished just like that in the course of one afternoon.

“I’m really glad you called. It’s so good to see you, Kiwi,” he said as you stood in the parking lot beside your car, squeezing you tightly in his arms.

Kiwi. That silly little nickname he’d given you in elementary school because you’d worn a green shirt with brown pants. Somehow, it stuck, and you became Kiwi.

The flashes of the Tyson you knew were there, peeking through the private jets and flashing lights of his career that made him feel so distant, separating your lifestyles with an extra comma and several additional 0’s. As you drove home, his voice echoing in your mind, you asked yourself, were things similar enough? Even if he was the same Tyson, were you still the same Kiwi?

Part 2: The Rekindling

From the moment he got that text from you, Tyson swore all of his problems dissipated. It was cheesy and he hated it, but he had a literal pep in his step ever since he got back from lunch. He was playing more confidently, producing more than he had in Colorado, and while he knew that realistically, it was probably due in part to the change of scenery and the subconscious desire to prove himself, he couldn’t help but attribute it to you.

After that day at the cafe, he’d solidified a spot in your life, at the front of the table, almost like he’d never left, like he’d just been away at summer camp for a few weeks. You found yourself spending much of your free time with him, at his place or yours, or out showing him the Twin Cities like a proper tour guide. Despite the drastic changes in your lives, it was all too easy to fall back into your old routine, muscle memory kicking in after shaking the rust off and doing a few practice loops.

Things were different, though, slight shifts in the dynamic from all those years ago; it was only natural, given the growth you’d both gone through, physically, mentally, emotionally. You were older, more stable, and more mature. You noticed that he’d begun to fill the gaps in your life that would normally be filled by a romantic partner, if you’d had one — the go-to person to invite to the new restaurant you wanted to try, binge-watching your new favorite Netflix show, sending regular text updates about your day. Sure, you had other friends, and so did he, but it was clear from day 1 that you were each other’s first choice, maybe in more ways than one.

As the weeks turned into months, the regular season waning into the playoff preparations, you found yourself longing to be with him more, dreading the away games and extended time apart as he spent more time training, practicing, working out. You told yourself it was just that you’d spent so much time drifting apart and that it was refreshing, rejuvenating to have your closest friend back, a different kind of happy with him back in your life, not willing to even consider the other explanation.

The way he looked at you was different, too, though you did your best to ignore it. He was more affectionate, even cuddly, brushing your arm when he walked past, thigh bumping against yours when he sat next to you on the couch, arms squeezing you tighter when he hugged you goodbye — which was apparently something you did now, despite never having done it before. There was a light in his eye that you hadn’t noticed before, assuming it was a detail you’d forgotten about him in the years you’d grown apart, but it quickly became one of your favorite parts of him, the warmth in his smile and the affection in his eyes a place of comfort you’d missed out on.

And, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the benefit of his profession and his extra time in the gym — praising the warm weather, you looked forward to spending time outside with him, eyes running appreciatively over the cut of his arms and the stretch of fabric over his muscled chest. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, though you did your best to hide behind the shade of your sunglasses — except for the one time you’d walked into his apartment when he was in just a towel, and you’d both stuttered uncomfortably before he ran back into his room to change. (You’d dreamt about his toned six-pack and the drip of the water down his hardened chest for days after.)

He’d introduced you to some of his teammates, vaguely, never really giving you a label — just Y/N — but then, what was the label even supposed to be? Childhood best friend who I reconnected with and is now my best friend again? Former best friend who I drunkenly fucked one night and never spoke to again, but am now speaking to again?

Yeah, you thought, maybe it was best to avoid the labels for now. And maybe there was something more going on than just friendship. But that was another conversation for another time.

When the Wild were disappointingly eliminated from the playoffs, Tyson’s summer break began earlier than expected, and he was quick to invite you on a trip to Denver. He still had his brand deal with Coors Light, and they’d asked him to attend an Avs watch party at Coors Field. It worked out well, since he was already planning on going to cheer on the boys, his connection with the team never fading despite the disappointing departure a few months prior.

It was natural, just like old times; you’d brought the other to dances, proms, parties, when there was no romantic partner of the month. This was really no different, except for the fact that he was now a professional athlete paid millions to schmooze with the fans and stakeholders, the events much more lavish than a homecoming in your middle school gym. In the past, there had never been any question that it was never a date, but now, you weren’t so sure.

When you got to the hotel to check in, the front desk agent had blushed profusely when he gave his name, eyes looking a little too wide and lips a little too pouty for your liking. He’d smiled warmly while you bristled beside him, absolutely no reason to be feeling this contempt toward the kind woman who was simply doing her job.

She didn’t have to put her hand on his, though, when she’d paused her typing to say in a far-from-professional seductive tone, “You were my favorite Av.”

So maybe you felt a little surge of pride at the way her face fell, glossed lips breaking her smile, when she looked at the reservation. Her eyes flicked to you, having already dismissed you in favor of speaking only to Tyson, then turned her attention back to him.

“Mr. Jost, I’m sorry, but it looks like you only have one room on your reservation.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, and you felt the sinful pride welling up in your gut as she nodded curtly.

“I see,” she said curtly, eyes glancing back to you yet again, not doing much of anything to hide her own contempt. “Unfortunately, it looks like the double rooms are all booked up because of the Finals. All I have left is the king suite.”

You saw the flush on Tyson’s cheeks before feeling the heat rise oin your own, eyes snapping to his.

“Oh, uh —”

“Are you — ?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s fine —”

“I can take the couch,” you said, trying your hardest not to notice the way his cheeks had grown a really delightful shade of pink.

“I’d be happy to have the pullout couch arranged for you,” she offered, voice back to warm, clearly pleased that you were at least having some sort of conflict about sharing a bed, the glaring red alarm light above you signaling that you were not, as she had assumed, a girlfriend or romantic partner.

“No, Kiwi, I’m not letting you do that,” he said firmly, much to Front Desk Girl’s visible disappointment. “The King is fine. It’ll be just like our old sleepovers, yeah?”

You nodded in agreement, and Tyson turned back to the girl to complete the check in, her face back to a mild scowl. Glancing down to hide the smirk on your face, you bit back a comment that her makeup would be ruined at the rate her facial expressions switched from one to the other so rapidly.

Once she handed Tyson the keys, you offered a sweet smile before turning to follow him to the elevator, unable to prevent the satisfaction that settled over you. The room, of course, was wonderful, offering a beautiful view of the city and the snow-covered mountains in the distance, though the awkwardness had seeped in as soon as he’d unlocked the door, the large bed sitting very loudly in the center of the ornate room, a glaring beacon to your past.

You cleared your throat and brushed past it, shoving the discomfort to the side and ignoring it. If you didn’t think about it, it would go away, right?

Tyson’s eyes fell to your wrist as you accepted the extra room key from him, slipping it in the pocket of your purse. “What’s that?”

Smiling, you turned and offered your wrist, showing off your new — old — hardware: a braided bracelet, several shades of blue thread woven together in a simple pattern and tied neatly.

“Is that — ?”

“Yup,” you nodded, touching the bracelet unconsciously. “I meant to tell you that I found it in my closet the other day.”

“I can’t believe you still have it,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I made that for you… God, how long ago was that? It was at that one camp, and I think I was like, nine? Ten?”

“That was the worst summer of my life,” you sighed dramatically. “You were gone for so long and I had nothing to do except hang out with Lizzie Sherman.”

His eyebrows raised in understanding, placing his hand over his heart. “I’m sorry for putting you through that, Kiwi, truly. I solemnly swear that I will never do it again.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head before setting your bag on the luggage rack in the closet.

“You wanna get dinner? My favorite diner is just a few blocks down the street. They have the world’s best pancakes.”

“Tyson, it’s like, 8pm Minnesota time.”

“So? There is literally never a bad time for breakfast food.”

So, a few minutes later, you found yourself seated in an old school diner, straight out of any New York City movie. It was relatively quiet, only a few tables occupied when you arrived, and he’d told you it was Denver’s best kept secret.

“Whoa, now, look who the cat dragged in,” the waitress said as she approached the table. “Tyson Jost, in the flesh.”

“Hey, Carol, good to see you,” he greeted with a grin. She was older, old enough to be his mother, voice raspy no doubt from years of cigarette smoke, with a warm, welcoming smile, laugh lines etched into her face.

“What brings you back? Can’t be a coincidence that you’re here the day before Game 1.”

“Showing Y/N here around the old stomping grounds,” he explained with a gesture to you. “But you know I can’t miss the boys’ first game.”

“Knew you couldn’t stay away for too long,” she tutted, then turned to you. “This boy single handedly kept us in business during the pandemic.”

You laughed, “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. He’s been raving about this place for weeks.”

“Y’know I’ve got a soft spot for ya, Josty,” she winked.

“You’re always my favorite girl,” he replied flirtatiously, nudging your foot under the table as if to say, Nah, you know you are.

“I’m flattered, but I don’t think your girlfriend here appreciates that too much,” she said, and you felt that familiarly uncomfortable heat flood your cheeks at her comment. It was playful, harmless, but your eyes snapped to Tyson’s as he smiled and made the joke, “You always knew you weren’t the only girl for me.”

You tried to hide the way your eyes wanted to bulge out of your head at his words, innocent enough, but shocking nonetheless. Maybe it wasn’t worth correcting, an honest and casual mistake given the circumstances — but how could you just ignore the smile on his face as he said it? There was an ease of his voice, the pride in his body language, like he’d been saying it all his life.

Carol winked at you, lucky girl uttered in that matronly way, before pulling out her notepad and pen, the moment floating away in an instant. “What can I get for you guys?”

“Coffee, please,” he ordered. “We’ll split the pancakes. And, Carol, you’re the only one I trust to get this exactly right. We’ll also have a plate of hashbrowns, with one sunny side up egg on them.”

Carol nodded and you smiled at the gleam in his eye as he flashed you a grin. It had been a tradition when you were kids — to share a plate of pancakes, doused in maple syrup, along with hashbrown and egg yolks, after every sleepover. At one point, when Tyson hit puberty and began demolishing plates of food to keep up with his growing body, your dad and his mom began buying bags of frozen hashbrowns in bulk to keep up.

“Are you even allowed to eat pancakes and potatoes?” you asked, eyebrow raised, once Carol had turned to put your order in.

“We’ll count it as my cheat meal,” he shrugged. “This is more than worth it.”

Your heart warmed at the implication, and before you could comment, he was off, launched into a story about JT and the time their coach made them skate laps when he found out they’d competed — and won — in a pancake challenge at this very restaurant.

It wasn’t long before Carol was delivering your food to your table, balancing several plates expertly on her arms. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes and fried potatoes filled your nose, and Tyson thanked her before sending you a grin. “Smells like heaven, doesn’t it?”

“I never doubted your taste buds for a second.”

As you watched him ceremoniously crack the yellow yolk on the crisp hashbrowns, the liquid oozing over the potatoes, you thought to yourself how natural it all felt. Sitting here, with him, like no time had passed, like nothing had ever happened between you, just sitting and enjoying a plate of pancakes with your friend. It was so simple, so seamless, so easy with him, even amidst the road bumps.

If this was a movie, you thought, this would be the exact moment where the main character realizes she’s in love with him.

It had never really been a thought before, all of the comments from your families growing up about how you’d end up marrying one another shrugged off, laughed away with a teasing gross and a grin. But losing him, and having him come back to you, when both of you had least expected it — you couldn’t deny it certainly had fate written all over it, the serendipity of it all almost too strong to ignore.

And then there was the question — were you in love with him?

*****************

When you got back to the hotel after dinner — breakfast? — you both slipped into more comfortable clothes, and, when you couldn’t stop yawning, you knew it was time for bed. Tyson followed you into the spacious bathroom as you began to get ready for bed; he set his small travel bag for toiletries on the counter beside you while you were brushing your teeth.

“Hyaluronic acid? Seriously, Tys?” you asked, holding up the dropper bottle he’d set down.

“What? My skin is really dry, okay?” He snatched the bottle back, unscrewing it to drop some of the liquid on his hands before rubbing it into his skin. “The girl at Ulta told me I should buy it.” “Girls do like a man who has a skincare routine,” you mused.

“Thank you,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. “I’ll have you know that I have excellent personal hygiene.”

Your eyebrows raised, biting back any snarky reply, choosing instead to nod sarcastically. “Uh huh.”

Soon enough, you were crawling into bed, the crisp white sheets rustling beneath your body. It wasn’t until you laid your head against the pillow that you realized Tyson would be joining you soon, right next to you, in the bed. The silent implications, unspoken words from years ago swirled in your head, and you did your best to push them away.

When he settled in under the sheets, you were grateful for the large bed, allowing you the extra space between your bodies, not even able to feel his body heat. The timidness had returned, plopping itself in the gap between you, and you swore you could feel a physical, but invisible barrier sharing the covers with you. It was fine, you told yourself, totally normal, not weird at all. Plenty of people shared beds with their friends on trips.

But not everyone had slept with that friend 5 years ago and never talked about it since.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know.”

Called out.

“I know,” you replied, doing your best to hide the nerves in your voice. “I just… don’t usually sleep in a bed with other people.”

“It’s just me. Just like old times, except now I have bulging muscles that you have to watch out for.”

You snorted, grateful for the way he was able to seamlessly ease the tension with his corny jokes, and you smiled when he nudged your leg with his knee.

“Goodnight, Tyson.”

“Goodnight, Kiwi.”

*****************

Fortunately, the awkwardness of waking up beside him was staved, for he’d woken up early to run in the hotel gym, allowing you time to shower and get ready for the day, thankful for the privacy. His ‘getting ready’ routine was short, and soon enough, you were taking coffees to go to the park after a quick breakfast. It was a beautiful day, and conversation was easy and casual as you strolled together, excitement buzzing in the air of the city in anticipation for game 1 of the Finals.

Lunch was one of his favorite sandwich shops, followed by some sightseeing — he was pleased to have swapped roles, being in the position of tour guide and leading you through the city that he knew like the back of his hand.

You returned back to the hotel to get ready for the event, and then the game. Tyson had already texted with JT and made arrangements to stop by after the game to say hello to the boys, and while you weren’t nervous, you did want to make a good first impression. It was a summer event, so you opted to wear your old Avalanche Jost jersey — bought in advance of the one game you’d attended five years ago — paired with shorts to help keep you cool in the warm Denver air.

Tyson, while he couldn’t directly wear an Avs logo, ensured that his flannel had navy and burgundy woven into the fabric as his subtle nod to his former team. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail appreciatively over him, his gray t-shirt fitting him in all the right places, wild curls tamed neatly with some gel. He cleaned up nice, even when going to an event hosted by a beer company.

You slipped on your shoes, before smoothing out your jersey and grabbing your purse.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Tyson opened the door for you, then trailed behind you as you walked down the hall to the elevators. You could feel the heat of his eyes on you, almost enough to make you uncomfortable had it been anyone else.

“You look really… good,” he said. “That jersey looks really good on you.”

“You sound surprised.”

His eyes went wide, cheeks tinging pink as he stuttered, “No, I’m not – you just – I just – ah, shit –”

“Just fucking with you,” you grinned. “You look nice, too, Tys.”

His glare was adorably bashful, leading you to the elevator in order to meet your Uber driver in the lobby.

The event went smoothly, easy enough to stand beside Tyson while he cracked jokes and shared stories with the fans. It was fun to see him interacting with them, always so jovial and friendly despite being traded several months prior. That had always been something you’d loved about him; being able to strike up a conversation with anyone and end it as if he’d known them his whole life. Really, when you thought about it, it shouldn’t have been a surprise as to why you’d reconnected with him so easily.

Watching the game surrounded by fans was an equally thrilling experience, the cheers erupting with each hit, each save, each goal. Tyson was elated, and honestly, so were you, despite the fact that the only reason you’d had any loyalty to the team was the man standing beside you.

After the game, Tyson was buzzing, eager to meet up with the guys. He took you through a “secret” route to get into the arena while avoiding the mass hoards of cheering, hollering fans, elated by the overtime victory. He walked with familiarity through the doors, leading you through the halls outside of the locker rooms, waiting for his friends to emerge.

He’d begun to show you some of the pieces on the wall, explaining some of the history of the team as you saw the murals of Joe Sakic and Peter Forsberg lifting the Cup over their heads.

“God, you need a fuckin’ haircut, bud,” said a voice from behind you.

Your heart warmed as you saw Tyson’s eyes light up, grinning like a fool as he turned at the sound of the voice, as familiar to him as his own name.

“Looks like you lost your trimmers too, ya mountain man. Your playoff beard looks like shit,” he shot back with a smile, approaching his best friend, large arms engulfing the other in a hug. When he pulled away, he turned to you expectantly and set his hand on the back of your arm.

“JT, this is Y/N. Y/N, JT.”

You offered a smile, sticking out your hand and shrieking in surprise when the redhead pushed your hand away and moved in for a bear hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. Thanks for putting up with this shithead,” he said, grinning.

“Someone’s got to, am I right?” you were quick to crack back, earning a laugh from JT. Tyson held his hands up, as if he was only then beginning to realize the consequences of having his two best friends here to roast him at the same time.

“Jost, you didn’t tell me you had pretty friends at home,” JT said smoothly, and your cheeks felt hot, not used to the public compliment. “Maybe I would’ve come visit sooner if I knew.”

Tyson gave him a shove. “She’s off limits, pal. Don’t even think about it.”

The redhead’s eyebrow raised, sending you a glance like he knew the internal conflict that was brewing inside you, could see the tension mounting between the two of you despite your best efforts to keep it under wraps. It was a bit unsettling, and you wanted to tell him that just because he was Tyson’s best friend didn’t mean that he could read your mind, too.

If he could, he didn’t say anything, smoothly changing the subject to ask about the flight and your activities in the city thus far. The conversation was easy, and you could certainly see how Tyson had fallen into him in your absence.

More and more of the guys began to pile out of the room, greeting Tyson with enthusiasm. Some of them greeted you cordially, and others followed JT’s path and simply scooped you up for a hug. Soon enough, the wives, girlfriends, and others flooded the hall until it was full of people, celebrating Avs getting one win closer to the Stanley Cup.

You found yourself chatting with two girls, one of whom was Mel Landeskog, and the other you hadn’t quite caught the name of or who she was with. Mel was warm, a greeting you like an old friend that she’d known for years.

“I’m so glad you were able to come out,” she said. “I know how much it means to the guys to have Tyson here.”

“It’s been so great to see the way the city’s welcomed him back,” you replied. “You can tell this really is home for him.”

Mel smiled, nodding with agreement, but was quickly called away by EJ asking her to wrangle in her husband. The dynamic shifted as you tried to make small talk with the other girl, offering a friendly smile that was half-assedly returned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“I’m Susie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Susie. I’m Y/N.”

“Are you Josty’s girlfriend?” she asked, the words so blunt you blinked in surprise.

Cheeks warming, you stuttered, “Oh, uh, no. Just a friend.”

Susie hummed, her eyes scanning over Tyson’s figure a few feet away. Part of you wanted to smack her to stop her from ogling him, but considering you were just a friend, you resisted the urge to start a fight.

“You just don’t look like his type, is all,” she said, glancing back. You felt your heart sink at her words, the silent implication all but screaming in your ears. She didn’t say it, didn’t have to, but you knew exactly what she meant: Not pretty enough to be his type, not skinny enough to be his type.

Offering another smile, you excused yourself to find a restroom. You walked away quickly, seeking either the bathroom or just privacy, whichever you could find first. Ducking behind a wall, you closed your eyes, tears hot as they brimmed above your lashes, blinking quickly to avoid letting them spill onto your face.

It was nothing new, nothing you hadn’t heard before, and you knew better than to put any stock in it, especially being around the crowd of pretty, but stereotypical, athlete girlfriends. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear, especially not when comparing you to Tyson — your Tyson. They didn’t understand, no one understood, the history and strength of your relationship, both before and after the unintentional hiatus. Everyone just assumed that Tyson — handsome, fit, rich — could never associate with a fat girl.

With a forlorn sigh, you heaved yourself up and began an actual search for a bathroom to pop into. A few winding corners later, you found one, locking the door behind you. You gathered a wad of toilet paper to dab at your eyes, careful to avoid smudging your mascara. As you exited the stall, your eyes dragged up to see themselves in the reflection of the mirror, unable to avoid the way they inevitably slid over your figure. The jersey, while covering your body, couldn’t hide the size of your arms, the width of your torso, the shape of your belly.

It had taken a long time, with many tears and countless hours of therapy, but you’d finally reached a point where you were happy, or at least content, with your body, no longer hating what you saw in the mirror. But the thoughts echoing in your head were far from kind, unable to prevent the comparisons and harmful words.

Summoning your therapist’s voice in your head, you allowed yourself a few moments to hype yourself back up, if only to gather the energy to return to the crowd of people outside. The weight in your throat dissipated, and you took another deep breath before stepping back out and finding the group again, Susie and everyone else clueless to your brief detour.

“Hey, you,” Tyson greeted, walking up to you and bumping your hips with his. “Was just looking for you. I think the guys are gonna go out for a celebratory drink — you wanna go?”

Hoping he couldn’t see the glassiness of your eyes, you glanced around before saying, “I think I’m just going to head in early.”

Tyson’s face fell. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, just tired from the travel. I’ll see you back at the hotel later.”

“I can come with you —“

“No, Tys, you should go celebrate with them. You deserve to,” you urged, smiling to show him you were okay.

He frowned, but nodded, quickly taking out his phone to order you an Uber back and ignoring your protests that you could, in fact, afford a ride back to the hotel.

*****************

Instead of going to your room, though, you found your feet walking toward the hotel bar, taking a seat on the plush barstool. Maybe it felt a little cliche, a little too ‘main character’ for your liking, but you thought you could use the liquid blanket to help you forget the way those words stung just a little too much.

“Give me something old,” you said when the bartender approached, setting a napkin in front of you. “And red.”

He nodded, and soon you were presented with a glass of Pinot Noir, a 1982 something-or-other. With a wry smile, you lifted the glass in a mock toast to him, pushing away the voice in your head that told you to savor the nice wine and taking a much larger than necessary gulp.

One glass turned into three, time blurred as the wine got sweeter with each sip. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you found yourself hurtling back to the present, conscious, with brown curls tickling your forehead. As reality trickled back into your hazy brain, you realized you were on your back in bed, having the life kissed out of you by your best friend. You didn’t remember how you’d gotten there, only focused on the way his hand felt against your breast, kneading it through the cotton of the t-shirt you were wearing — when did you change?

Tyson tasted like beer, his tongue pressed against yours in a familiar moment. His hands felt sinful, hot, dragging along your skin, drawing soft sighs from your throat.

“Tys,” you breathed, mouth hot against his, words unable to form past the sigh of his name. “Tys.”

He hummed, hearing you but not hearing you, mouth trailing back to your jaw. The work of his lips on your skin had your brain in a haze far more powerful than the wine, all coherent thoughts leading back to one thing: Tyson.

The smallest sober sliver of yourself that was left was screaming at you, fighting desperately against the drunk desire that was all too easy to give in to, to keep kissing him and feeling his heat against yours.

“Tys, stop,” you said again, sobriety flitting into your consciousness. “We can’t.”

Whether it was your words or your tone that reached his brain, you weren’t sure, but he ceased his mouth’s onslaught in an instant. You watched him blink, as if he, too, was flying back to reality, the lustful, drunken haze bursting above you. He pulled away, sitting back on his legs as he ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

The absence of his body caused you to shiver despite the heat of your skin. Your legs were still spread, wide, accompanying his form still sat between your thighs, and your cheeks burned from feeling so exposed. Dread filled your heart as you watched him slide off the bed, muttering an apology, head hung in shame while he shuffled to the couch.

Part of you wanted to call out to him, to apologize — for what exactly, you weren’t sure — but your brain finally spoke louder as you bit your tongue, letting it wait until morning, knowing the situation needed a sober mind. You listened to him shifting on the couch, tugging a spare blanket over him with a sigh.

It was thoughts of Tyson’s lips that filled your mind as you drifted off to sleep, finally succumbing to the haze the wine was calling you to.

Part 3: The Romance

The brightness of the sun stirred you from your sleep. Head pounding, you blinked a few times, the processing time it took to get your bearings extremely delayed, soaked with too much Pinot Noir and the subtle taste of Coors Light. Blurs of the night before flitted through your mind like a slideshow, flashing images of the hotel bar, of brown curls and stolen sighs.

Your legs stretched, and all at once you registered the large bed, the space beside you, and in an instant the feeling of Tyson’s lips on yours came rushing back to you. With a groan, you scrubbed your hand over your face, rolling to your side to heave yourself up.

Tyson sat on the loveseat, not looking much better than you felt, a disposable cup in his hand. He offered a solemn smile, then nodded to the coffee table in front of him, an additional cup waiting for you.

“Morning,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you replied, feeling extremely exposed in your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Your feet slid along the marble floor, cold against your skin, as you shuffled to your bag to tug on a sweatshirt. Though you blamed your slow movements on the ache of your head, you’d be lying if you weren’t doing everything you could to delay the impending conversation that lied ahead, daunting, intimidating, staring back at you on the other side of the room.

You made your way back to the couch, the space beside Tyson burning your skin as you sat down, maximizing the distance between you two as much as possible on the small sofa.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you broke the silence, shifting uncomfortably as you took a sip. “God, I feel like shit.”

Tyson let out a snort in agreement, handing you the small bottle of Advil from his bag.

“Yeah. I pay for it more now than I did back then,” he said, taking a slurp of his own. His eyes flicked to yours, the elephant in the room glaring, screeching loud, unavoidable no matter how much you’d rather curl back up in the king bed and bury your head under the duvet.

You met his eyes, painstaking, and you could see it in them, dying to come out into the world.

“Y/N, I —“

“Tyson, please don’t.”

“No, Y/N, we need to talk about this,” he started, slowly, firm but not cross.

Your eyes broke from his, unable to hold his gaze anymore, looking down at your lap. He was quiet, waiting for you to speak, to give him permission to continue.

“We were drunk, Tyson. Shit happens. We’ll shake it off,” you dismissed it, a weak attempt to make the discomfort vanish.

“That’s what I said five years ago, too,” he said, and your heart leapt into your throat at his words, eyes shooting to meet his. It was the first time either of you had acknowledged It out loud, to each other or to anyone else.

You swallowed thickly, taking a beat before responding. “It was a mistake, Tyson. You regret it, I regret it. It happened, and we moved on —”

“I don’t regret it.”

His words interrupted you, your eyes shooting up to him at his statement. settled in the silence, your eyes shooting up to him at his statement. He what?

Tyson paused for another moment. “Well, I didn’t.”

Oh. The words struck your heart, shattering it instantly, as if confirming what you both feared and knew to be true.

“No, wait, let me rephrase that,” he said quickly, realizing his mistake. “I don’t regret sleeping with you. I regret what happened after, and letting you walk away without talking to you about it.”

The words it’s too late, it doesn’t matter rang through your head, heavy on your tongue in a way that made you want to spit them out.

“I don’t regret it,” he repeated again, as if to solidify his feelings and make sure you understood. Then he asked in a timid voice, as if he was afraid to hear the answer, “Why do you regret it?”

“It’s not that easy of an answer.”

“It can’t be that complicated,” he shot back, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

“Tyson, I’m not –”

“You’re not what, Y/N?” he cut you off, eyes blazing with concern despite the frustration in his voice.

“I don’t belong here, Tyson.”

“What does that mean?”

“This,” you gestured to your surroundings, the expensive suite a contrast to your apartment and old sweatshirt that had brought you comfort since high school. “Here. With you. I don’t belong here. Not when I look like this.”

Tyson’s eyes fell, softening as each of your words struck him like broken glass. The words that his brain managed to conjure — none of them were enough, could ever be enough, to tell you how laughably and incredibly wrong you were.

“I regret it because guys like you don’t end up with girls like me.”

“That’s not true,” he finally said softly, kicking himself for not being able to come up with anything more eloquent.

“It is,” you replied. “You’re a professional athlete now, Tyson. You should be dating models, blonde size zero’s. Not me. Look at every single one of your teammates’ wives and girlfriends. None of them look like me.”

Tyson’s mouth opened, like he was ready to blurt out his next sentence, but paused, closing it.

‘It was fun, but really all sleeping with you did was show me a sliver of a life that I can’t have.”

“Y/N.” His voice was soft, trying to connect with you, to bring you back to the moment. Something about the way your name sounded coming out of his mouth made the burn in your throat even stronger, tears welling in your eyes as you blinked, looking away to avoid his sight.

“I liked you then, before any of that — any of this — mattered,” he began, hand running through his messy, untamed curls. “I know that doesn’t take away from any of the feelings that you’ve felt and the experiences that you’ve had, and I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but fuck, Y/N, I care about you so much, and I…”

His voice trailed off, eyes off in the distance like he was searching for the words. You watched him, waiting patiently for him to finish, trying your best to not prepare your response before he had even completed his thought.

“I know that I’m on the TV sometimes, and I make a lot of money, but that doesn’t mean that I’m different. Deep down, inside, away from the cameras and the crowd, I’m the same Tyson I always was, always have been. The same one who made you this bracelet at camp,” he said softly, reaching out to pull at the braided strings on your wrist. The touch tingled your skin, and you did your best to ignore it. “I’m still the guy who played with your Barbies and made them fall in love with Batman.”

Your lips curled into a small smile at the memory, and he matched it before continuing. “I just want – need you to know that I’ve never, ever been bothered by your size. I look at you and see you. My best friend. The girl who was there by my side for everything. No matter what number is on the scale, or what size jeans you wear, or what you decided to eat that day. Not then, not now.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, and you almost didn’t want to believe him, but for the deep sincerity in his voice and the honesty in his pleading eyes.

“You said that guys like me don’t end up with girls like you,” he said, reaching forward to tentatively take your hand in his. When you didn’t pull away, he gave you a squeeze that encouraged your eyes to flick up to his. “But there’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.”

“Tyson…”

“Please let me finish,” was his response, and it wasn’t harsh, but gentle, more of a plea, like he would die if he couldn’t get the words out.

“I’ve felt this way forever, about you. I felt it that night, and the morning after, and every morning since. But I didn’t realize what it was until you came back into my life. And now that you’re here, I can’t let you leave again.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, barely processing the words coming out of his mouth before he was speaking again.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The air in your throat felt tight, like you were suddenly engulfed in a tidal wave of emotion. Though you knew what he said, the weight of his words were still light, not sinking in, the true force of them waiting to crash onto you at any moment. He knew, understood without words, and took his hand back and sipped his coffee to allow you some space.

“Tyson, I —“ you began, then stopped, words once again failing you, only this time it was because of something else his lips were doing.

“You don’t have to say it back, now, or ever,” he said quickly. “I just… Needed you to know. I’ve always loved you.”

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks when you blinked, sniffling as you looked up at him. It was, with no contest, the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to you. You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised; you’d never felt as seen or as heard as you did with Tyson, even when you were doing your best to hide beneath the smile you offered to the world outside.

“The last few months with you have been… wonderful, and confusing,” you continued, throat constricted as you tried your best to quell the tears, tried to put your feelings into somewhat coherent words. “I’ve been spending this entire time trying to figure out what it is I’m feeling.”

He nodded, letting you know that he was following, his body completely engaged with you and your words.

“I think —I think that I might… feel… the same,” you picked your words carefully, that big, terrifying L-word far too heavy to throw out like that. “I’m still working that out for sure.”

Tyson smiled, pleased with even the possibility that you might love him too. His expression shifted as he swallowed, suddenly looking nervous.

“Could I kiss you?”

Your heart did a triple-axel backflip at the question, and you realized you were nodding as if he might never ask again, uncertain about the future but knowing in the moment that you desperately wanted his lips on yours.

They were warm, soft, just enough weight behind the kiss that you could feel his yearning without feeling forceful or aggressive. It was sweet, years of pining built up into one moment.

“I’ve always liked doing that.”

“Yeah? Is that why it’s happened twice now when you’re drunk?”

“You wanna see what happens when I’m not?”

With one sentence, the dynamic of the room shifted, suddenly feeling like it was at least ten degrees hotter. The implication of his words had warmth spreading through your body, the sweatshirt you had on quickly too much.

He was hesitant, though, waiting for your approval. Tyson felt your pause, and added, “It’s okay if you don’t. I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to fuck off. But, you know what they say, third time’s the charm.”

You smiled, appreciative of his humor as he grinned, clearly impressed with himself. In the back of your head, you heard a quiet voice mutter, Fuck around and find out.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredibly fucking sexy.”

Before you could think twice, you were lunging forward to throw your arms around him and kiss him. If he was taken aback, he recovered quickly, moving to wrap his arms around you as he kissed you back with enthusiasm. Your back hit the soft velvet of the sofa, giving him more leverage to kiss you harder, his tongue finding the seam of your mouth.

The irony of making out with him again, mere hours after your recent run-in, was not lost on you, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care. This time was different, sober consent all too clear, and you could feel everything.

The pile of clothes on the floor grew, cotton flung without a second thought as you undressed each other, slowly, carefully. Instinctively, you were tempted to cover your body with your arms, but Tyson had other plans, pulling your hands away from your stomach as he delivered kisses against your skin. You shivered at the feeling, his lips tracing constellations along your chest, over your belly, onto your hips.

“Fuckin’ love your hips,” he murmured, voice muffled by your skin, and you giggled at the way his low tone vibrated against you. His hands followed suit, slow and careful, like they were handling a priceless piece of art — and to him, they were.

Tyson’s mouth trailed over your waist, kissing and sucking marks on his journey between your thighs. His breath was hot against the cotton of your underwear, damp with anticipation as he glanced up at you, searching for any sign of protest. When he was met with none, he allowed his finger to drag up the seam, thumb rubbing gently over your clit through the material.

A moan escaped your lips, encouraging him to continue. He moved forward to kiss the fabric, inhaling your scent and letting out a groan.

“Please, Kiwi,” he murmured against your core. “Please let me eat you out. God, I’m begging you.”

His earnest desire had you nodding so fast you thought your head might fall off, butterflies erupting in your belly when his fingers dug into the waistband of your panties, tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. He didn’t give you any time to be shy, quickly pulling apart your legs to reveal your aching center, wet with need.

Licking his lips, Tyson hummed before pressing kisses against each of your inner thighs, tickling you slightly with the action, poor excuse for a playoff beard scratching the sensitive skin. He licked his way toward your lower lips, kissing them the way he’d kissed your mouth last night. Another deep groan left his throat when he tasted you, quick to delve his tongue inside of you.

Your hands flew to tangle themselves in his curls, his tongue working magic along your sodden slit, teasing you artfully. When his fingers joined his tongue, parting your folds and slipping into your heat, you let out a sigh of his name, pleasure hazing your vision and sending warm fuzzies to your belly.

“Jesus, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he moaned against you, pumping his fingers slowly when he realized that doing so produced more of your juices, lapping it up like the syrup from the pancakes you’d eaten the day before.

You couldn’t even reply, words a distant memory with the way he worked his digits inside of you, finding the spot to make you see stars. He grinned against you when he hit it, feeling the way you tightened around his fingers, and set off on his mission to show you just how bad he wanted you. His tongue continued its assault on your clit, flicking and circling in perfect harmony with the movement of his fingers, steady and consistent.

“Tys —“

Your climax hit you suddenly, a long cry of his name called out into the room while your back arched, fingers tugging tightly onto his hair. Tyson was careful to continue his movements exactly the same to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, only stopping when your hand gently pushed his head away. Short puffs of breath left you, panting, and he was smug as he pulled away to grin at you.

“Was that good, or —?”

Resisting the urge to smack him upside the head, you pulled him up toward you to kiss him. He quickly forgot his snark, distracted by your lips and the way your hand was crawling its way between your bodies, palming the hardening bulge in his boxers.

“Fuck,” he choked out, twitching against your hand.

“Take me to bed, Tyson,” you instructed him, words breathed against his mouth softly, a prayer rather than a command.

He moved so quickly that you almost laughed, if not for the shriek that left you as he picked you up, bridal style, crossing the short distance back to the large bed.

“Shall we continue last night’s activities?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows as he laid you back onto the mattress, settling himself between your legs to kiss you again.

“Tys,” you said between kisses. “I wanted to —“

“I know, baby, but look at you. Fuck, I’ve gotta have you,” he interrupted. You could practically feel the desperation in his voice, and you certainly could feel his desperation between your thighs.

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, and you were rendered speechless when he reached his arms behind his head to tug his shirt off his shoulders, in that hot way that boys do. It was your turn to groan at the sight, his toned core muscles flexing in the morning light.

“You like what y’see?” he smirked. “Know you liked that preview that day at my apartment, huh?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, silencing him by reaching for his erection again, this time allowing your hand to slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping your fist around him. “You gonna take these off so you can use it, or what?”

Tyson couldn’t remove the offending garment fast enough, fumbling over himself to shove the boxers down his legs, tossing them behind him hurriedly. It was your turn to smirk, admiring the sight of him completely nude in front of you as you leaned forward to stroke him. You watched goosebumps rise on his arms as you pressed your lips to the head of his dick, breath hot on the sensitive flesh.

“Kiwi —”

“Just a taste,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes, lips puckered against his leaking tip.

He let out a strangled groan, along with a string of curse words, which was all you needed as permission to take him into your mouth. You let your tongue swirl along his length, tasting him, savoring the weight of him and the saltiness of his precum.

Head bobbing, your mouth moved up and down, lips wrapped around the girth of him. With a glance up, you saw his eyes squeezed shut, lip tugged between his teeth as he indulged in the feeling of your hot mouth.

You made it a competition with yourself, see how many delicious moans and groans you could pull from his lips with the work of your own, as you let your mouth learn each inch of him, skin soft on your tongue. Bringing your hand up to the base, you gripped tightly and stroked him, working conjointly with your mouth.

“Baby, baby, you gotta — fuck, Kiwi, you gotta stop,” he panted, hand moving to your jaw to pull you off of him. “M’not gonna last if you keep — fuck.”

You smiled, pleased with your ability to render him a stuttering fool, though it quickly faltered when he gently pressed you onto your back. He kissed you again, stealing the breath from your lungs, as his hand cupped your jaw, slowing the moment down again.  His cock bobbed between your thighs, wet with your saliva and bumping against the slickness of your folds, and you whined at the feeling.

When he tore himself away from you, running to retrieve a condom from his bag, you raised an eyebrow at him as he climbed back onto the bed.  “You came prepared, huh?”

 

“What? No! No — I mean, I hoped, maybe… I thought, just in case—“ he stuttered, bashfully looking at you as his cheeks flushed.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, letting him know you weren’t upset with a nudge against his thigh with your knee. He looked relieved, then remembered he was supposed to be doing something with the foil packet in his hand, ripping it open and working the latex over his aching cock.

He shifted, positioning himself at your opening, then paused to look at you, eyes connecting with yours in a glance, wordless yet saying everything he needed to say. You nodded, a soft please dying on your lips when he let the tip bump against your clit.

Slowly, Tyson pushed into you, taking his time and savoring the way you gripped him, pulling him in in more ways than one. His arms landed on either side of your head, and he pressed his forehead against you as he allowed you both a moment to adjust to the sensation, simply content to just be connected.

Tyson’s hand moved to yours, entwining your fingers together as he began to move, your legs finding their place wrapped around his hips as he pushed into you. He pressed kisses against your lips and on your cheeks, showering you with affection as he took his time to find his rhythm.

He remained slow and steady, keeping his thrusts firm and forceful, allowing you to feel each inch of him as he moved inside you. You could feel his hot breath against your face, whispering declarations of love against your skin.

Tyson poured every emotion from the last five years into you, kissing away all of the unspoken words and forgotten memories, vanished with each pump of his hips. This wasn’t a mistake, though, if you thought about it, neither of the past times had been a mistake, either.

It didn’t take long for your high to build, cresting with a cry of his name. He wasn’t far behind you, eyes holding with yours as he, too, reached his peak with a Kiwi whispered against your lips. When his hips stilled against you, he stayed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being so connected with you, body and soul.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, even when he pulled out with a sigh, tying off the condom and tossing it in the direction of the bathroom. He couldn’t bother to stand up, not willing to be parted with you for a second, instead pulling you into his arms as he caught his breath.

“You’re telling me that’s what we’ve been missing out on this whole time?”

With a snort, you said, “You kind of lived across the country until just now, Tys.”

“Still,” he wrapped an arm over your shoulders, “I’m kinda pissed it took us this long.”

You hummed, silently agreeing with him. Now that you’d taken the plunge, you couldn’t remember what you were so hesitant for in the first place, life before today a distant memory.

“Will you go on a date with me? A real one, with dinner and flowers, when we get home?”

“It’s a little late for that,” you laughed, gesturing to the flimsy sheet covering your naked body.

“I guess we’ve done everything out of order,” he chuckled, “but first dates are important.”

“Okay,” you smiled and nodded. “A date. Pick me up at 6. And you better hold the door open for me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A comfortable silence fell over you as you enjoyed the peace of the moment, cuddled into his body and in the warmth of his strong arms. You listened to the steady beat of his heart while his fingers drew lazy circles into your shoulder blade, content to never leave the bed for the rest of your life.

“Tyson?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

He broke into a grin, looking down at you to see it in your eyes before he leaned forward to kiss you. You kissed back, pouring all of the love that had been bottled up in your heart for him over the last two decades into him, hoping he knew.

By the look on his face when he pulled away, he did.

“So I guess the third time is the charm, then, huh?”

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[kolsmikaelson]

tyson jost and a plus size girl for the instagram edits pls 🥺🥺

of course!!

josty17

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[beauvibaby]

boudoir - j.benn

a/n: not proofread, but plus size reader x Jamie  😌

“Babe? You got a package.” Jamie called into the house, you heard the crinkle of a shipping bag in his hand and raised your eyebrows, trying to remember what you had ordered. A gasp fell from your lips as you realized what it was, Jamie froze, halfway to setting it down on the counter when you came bounding down the hallway, all but stealing the package from his grasp. “Well, hello to you too.” He mumbled in confusion as you put the bag behind your bag, you laughed under your breath, “hi babe.” You stepped forward to kiss him quickly. “Why so secretive?” He raised an eyebrow at you. You bounced on your feet, a girlish smile on your face, “it’s part of your anniversary present.” You admitted. “Part?” He asked as you turned and started walking away, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for another month?!” He added, “perfection takes time, Jamie!” You shouted in response.

When Jamie left for a game a couple of nights later, you tried on the set you had gotten online, finding yourself more than happy with the way the lingerie fit you. Normally it was a hassle to find something that fit you properly, that gave your curves the right type of definition, and this was definitely, definitely that.

The photo shoot went even better than you could have imagined, the photographer was kind and patient, directing you to pose in certain ways, and assuring you that you looked amazing— that you and Jamie both would love what came from the session. You’d don’t plenty of research on boudoir shoots, finally setting one up with someone who was used to doing plus size shoots.

You walked into the house, giddy and nervous to see the final pictures from the photo shoot you’d just done, you knew it would be a few days until they were finished, but the excitement was still there. “Hey.” Jamie smiled, turning to look at you over the back of the couch, he did a double take as he saw the makeup on your face that he was certain wasn’t there when you left. “Got a secret man I should be worried about?” He teased as you walked over to him, you leaned down to kiss him, smiling against his lips when he put his hand there to hold you in place a little longer. “You look pretty, baby.” He murmured, pecking you once more before letting you go. “Thanks.” You giggled, reaching out to wipe some of the red lipstick off of him, he complained as you teased him for it. “What did you do today?” He questioned, pausing whatever show he was watching as you did your small routine like hanging up your purse and putting away your shoes. “Hung out with some of my friends, got lunch, nothing special.” You explained, the whole thing being a lie, a good lie of course. “Did you have fun?” He asked, watching you like a lost puppy, “yes.” You answered with a breathy laugh as you caught his gaze. “Did you miss me?” You teased, your only response being a wide smile.

***

You nearly bounded into her studio, eager to pick up Jamie’s anniversary present on your way home from work. “Hi, Y/N.” Sheila laughed as you walked in with a grin, she handed the leather bound album right over, she anxiously watched you open it, “oh my god.” You gasped, hand shooting to your mouth as you looked through the pictures of yourself, you saw yourself completely different now. You felt like you were on top of the world, “Sheila, oh my god, thank you.” You looked over at her, “of course!” She grinned, happy to see your reaction. “Be sure to tell me what Jamie thinks.” She added with a giggle,

“Jamie?” You shouted into the house, you’d spent the last ten minutes in the car trying to figure out what to write on the blank page on the book. You settled on a sentimental message for your husband, putting the book back into the box before heading inside.

“Office!” He called out in response, you were about to kick your heels off and head for him, but you bit your lip and decided on keeping them on, letting them click along the floor as you walked towards Jamie’s office. “I’m about to do an interview.” He spoke as he clicked away on the computer, he glanced up at you and saw the happy smile on your face as you leaned against the doorway. “Alright, guess I’ll just give you this when you’re done.” You smiled over at him, slightly shaking the box, he raised an eyebrow, “ok, I shouldn’t be too long.” He laughed softly as you nodded eagerly. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” You called already clicking your way down the hall. He stared at the door curiously for a moment, wondering what it was that you had gotten him.

***

It felt like an eternity but in reality it was only forty five minutes until your husband came padding down the hall to find you. “Hey, babe.” He hummed, seeing you stretched out on the bed, your work clothes long gone as you wore one of his shirts and some leggings. He chuckled as you popped up, “come here.” You demanded eagerly, it was a couple of days early, but you couldn’t wait any longer, this had been nearly a month in the making. “Wow, my day was good, thanks.” He teased, joining you against the headboard where you were now sitting, you laughed and pulled him in for a kiss. “I missed you, how was your day Jam?” You asked as he plopped down beside you, hooking an arm over your shoulder, “better now.” He quipped, reaching for the box. “It’s a little early, but it’s your anniversary present.” You mumbled, he grinned over at you, slowly pulling the lid off the box. You turned to be facing him more as he moved the tissue paper aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he lifted the leather book out, he pushed the box away and set the book down on his lap, flipping the cover open and reading your message.

He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “I love you.” He mumbled, caressing your cheek for a moment, “I love you too.” You whispered, biting your lip as he flipped the page over, he froze for a moment, eyes widening s bit. He shut the book dramatically, looking over at you, you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Keep going.” You encouraged, scooting closer to him as he moved to the next page of the book, “oh my god.” He muttered under his breath as he continued flipping through the book. You giggled as he threw his head back with a breathy chuckle as his face reddened. “Baby, these are, wow. You’re gorgeous.” He gasped, so in awe of what he was looking at.  “The last one is my favorite.” You admitted as he reached the end, he flipped to the last page, smirking as he looked at the photo of you on the floor, head resting on the front of a couch seat, back arched, one hand on your bent knee, the other pushing your hair up as you looked directly into the camera, lips parted in a smug smile.

“You know what I think?” He spoke up, holding the book out in front of the two of you, your favorite picture staring back at you. “What?” You asked softly, confused as to what he was going to say. “I say that I order a big print of this to hang up.” He teased, sending you into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, that’s not happening Jamie.” You pushed on his shoulder lightly, shrieking as he tossed the book down to the edge of the bed, quickly moving over you. “You’re the best wife ever.” He mumbled, kissing across your face, “I love those pictures, but I love even more that they made you feel so good about yourself.” He admitted, smiling against your lips as you quickly pulled him in for a kiss. “You know,” you started, rolling your head to the side as he kissed across your neck, “they do couples shoots too.” You watched him lift his head up, giving you a curious look. “Mhm, no, I’d much rather look at you in lace than me.”

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#jamie benn #Jamie Benn imagine #Jamie Benn imagines #Jamie Benn fic #Jamie Benn x reader #Jamie Benn x plus size #dallas stars #nhl fics

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 11

Chapter Summary: Jensen and the reader deal with the aftermath of their night spent together. 

Word Count: 4.3K+

Warnings: Language, slightly dub-con kiss

Author’s Note: I’m so glad so many of you enjoyed their first little “get together”. Your words of encouragement make my day and I love reading each and every one of them!

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more work by yours truly!

The sun began to rise, its rays shining into the guest house at the perfect angle across her face. She nuzzled into the pillow now underneath her head, not wanting to get up just yet. As consciousness pulled at her to wake up, memories of the night and whose bed she was lying in came crashing back to her. She sat bolt upright in the bed, the sheet falling off of her naked body. Soft snores came from the other side of the bed. Jensen lay on his stomach, his arms folded underneath the pillow. She took a moment to take in his peaceful state. His long lashes rested against his freckled cheeks and his pink lips were slightly parted as he breathed evenly. 

She slipped out from under the covers and began picking up her discarded articles of clothing. Her plan was to relax for a few minutes before slipping back into the house so she could say goodbye and head home. Somewhere along the way, both of them had fallen asleep, and now she could only hope that after their late night, no one in the main house was up yet. 

Her mind was racing as she hastily redressed herself. Too many different thoughts sped through her head, her anxiety on high again. If her mind running wild wasn’t bad enough, it seemed her garter did not want to cooperate with her either. The clasps kept popping as soon as she moved on to the next one. Eventually, she gave up, deciding to just slip on her dress and call it a day. If she had to pretend like she slept in her costume, no one would question her looking disheveled. As she picked up her coat, her phone tumbled across the hardwood floor and making the loudest sound she would have imagined it could. She swore under her breath as a loud snort came from the snoozing man on the bed as he roused from his slumber. 

“Good morning.” His gruff voice called as he rolled over and rested his weight on his elbows. He only had one eye open and a small smile on his lips in his groggy state. She smiled back at him as she pulled on her shoes. 

“Good morning, I gotta run.” She hung her coat over her arm as she sprinted from the guest house. She ignored Jensen calling after her, she couldn’t face talking to him right now, not when she couldn’t even put together her thoughts for herself. Avoidance was her specialty after all. 

She crept up to the large sliding doors to the kitchen and peered inside. Genevieve was standing at the stove, her back to the window and Odette on her hip. She cursed to herself before rounding the house to the sliding door leading to Jared’s office. If Gen was up with the kids, then she could assume that Jared was still knocked out. She just hoped that his office door wasn’t locked. 

She was in luck, as she tugged on the handle, the door gave and she slipped inside. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and shook it out before refolding it and tossing it in a new position on the back of the couch. The little details mattered. If Jared found out where she spent the night, he would not be happy. Jared didn’t like the idea of her sleeping with any guy. Throw in that guy being his best friend, and nothing good would come of that. 

The door opening to Jared’s office caught Genevieve’s attention. She turned towards her sister-in-law, a huge smile on her face. 

“Hey, I didn’t know you stayed here last night.” Gen noted as she shifted Odette’s weight on her hip. 

“Yeah, after three glasses of whiskey, I’d rather be safe than sorry.” Y/n laughed, the noise sounding forced. Gen didn’t seem to notice though. 

“Well, I’m glad. Will you stay for breakfast?” Gen asked her as she turned down the pan she had bacon cooking in. 

“Um, I don’t think so. I really just want to take a shower and get into some comfy clothes. Thanks though.” 

“If you’re sure,” Gen turned more towards her, a frown on her face. Gen knew how much she loved having breakfast with her niece and nephews, so her turning down the opportunity was rare. 

“I’m sure. Love you guys.” She kissed Odette, blowing a tiny raspberry on her niece’s cheek before running off. Odette’s giggling was the last thing she heard as she shut the door behind her and ran for her car. She sped out of their driveway and headed towards her apartment. The whole time her mind was running wild. 

Y/n couldn’t decide where to start. She had woken up in bed naked... with Jensen? It wasn’t that she didn’t remember last night, it was more a question of how they had ended up there. Both of them had been a little inebriated, sure, but they both had also openly consented. Jensen had told her that he wanted it. Why though, she couldn’t figure out. She had been sure he only saw her as a little sister. What had changed? Was it their talk behind the guest house. He had confessed intimate things to her and was easily feeling vulnerable. Had she taken advantage of that? Her stomach churned at the thought, but it was the best explanation she could come up with considering he said that he doesn’t do one night stands. But what else could you classify last night as? Should they just chalk it up to one big mistake? It was easier for her to convince herself that it was a mistake. That was the easiest way for her to protect her heart from his inevitable rejection. 

That being said, it was a mistake that she would make again and again she told herself as she pulled up to her building. Last night had been the best night she’s had in a long time. Her whole being felt light this morning. The stress of the last few months that she carried on her shoulders was gone. Jensen had thoroughly fucked her last night. That much was evident from the ache between her legs. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had come that many times in one night, if ever. Her thighs squeezed together as more memories from last night came back to her. She held onto them, and committed them to memory. They were probably going to be the only ones she ever got. 

As she walked through her apartment, she began stripping her clothes, tossing them wherever she pleased. She started the shower before going over to brush her teeth. She ran a comb through her hair, tossing the fallen curls over her left shoulder when she noticed it. Right there, at the base of her neck on the right side, was a small red hickey. In going over all her memories, she hadn’t realized he had been forceful enough to leave a mark. Her fingers danced over the sensitive flesh, committing it to her memory too. She cursed herself for her naivety, hoping Gen hadn’t noticed it this morning. With Jensen being the only other single person at that party, there was no way she would be able to explain it away. 

With a deep breath, she jumped into the shower, letting the hot water run over her body. She took her time, washing everything and just enjoying the heat against her skin. The ghosts of Jensen’s hands on her body could be felt in the tender flesh of her hips and the scratches on her backside where her own hands traveled as she washed away last night. 

When she stepped out, her whole bathroom had become a steam room. She could no longer see anything in her bathroom mirror as she dried herself off and tossed her hair into a towel on top of her head. She made her way back into her bedroom, picking out comfy sweats and a sports bra to wear. 

As she walked out of her room, her stomach growled at her, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten. She was putting a bowl of oatmeal into the microwave when she heard her phone vibrating from its place on her coffee table. She pressed start and went to fish her phone from her coat pocket. She had some missed messages from friends wishing her a happy new year, but it was the two messages from Jensen that caught her attention.

We need to talk.

Please?

Her stomach sank as she read over the few words. She knew the ‘lets just be friends’ conversation was inevitable, but that didn’t make any of it easier. She guessed she could be thankful that he wanted to do it in person and not over text. It was the classier move.

As much as she tried to convince herself on the drive that it was all a mistake, she had failed. The rejection stung, no matter what she tried to tell herself. Still, she would get over it. She always did. Years of rejection had made her a pro at it. What was one more? 

The microwave beeped and she decided not to reply to him. They didn’t need to talk face to face, she didn’t think she could handle it. She had gotten the message loud and clear anyway. The two of them would go back to be whatever it was they were. Friends? Coworkers? She wasn’t sure exactly how to define their relationship, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. The show was over after this season, and they would never be forced to see one another again. Maybe he would be periodically around Jared at the same time she was, but they would not be forced to be alone together. 

She went back to grab her breakfast, pulling the towel from her hair so it could air dry the rest of the way. She plopped down on the couch and pulled up some random trash tv show to watch as she ate. Her phone buzzed another handful of times, but she chose to ignore it. Whoever or whatever it was, could wait until she could get her thoughts in order. When she finished her breakfast, she took the empty bowl to the sink. As she headed back to her living room, a knock sounded at her front door. 

With trepidation, as she had not been expecting company, she went to open the door. The last person she expected to see there was Jensen. Yet, there he was, his hair still damp from his own shower, a somber look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Her brows scrunched up as she stepped back to allow him inside. 

“You wouldn’t answer my texts.” He shrugged as his eyes scanned the inside of her apartment. 

“So you came to my apartment? How did you even know where I live?” She crossed her arms against her chest. Her hopes of having a peaceful day had been dashed. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now. 

“Uh,” Jensen rubbed the back of his knuckles across the stubble on his jaw. The memory of his beards scratch between her legs had her biting back a groan. “I asked Jared to borrow his phone. I told him mine was dead and I needed to check my email.” 

“Well, you really didn’t have to go to all that trouble just to reject me.” Her tone was sour but she couldn’t help it. Now that she was physically close to him again, it was like something went off inside her. Her whole body was calling out to him, just begging to be touched by his hands one last time, to feel his muscles rippling underneath her fingertips as he moved above her.

“What are you talking about, reject you?” Jensen was confused. Did she really think that he drove across town just to reject her?

“You said we should talk. I get it okay, we were both a little messed up and vulnerable last night, it was a mistake.” She spit out through gritted teeth. It physically pained her to say the words out loud.

“Is that really what you think? That last night was a mistake?” Jensen couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Last night had been incredible, and even now, he longed to touch her again. 

“No, I don’t.” She admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that it should ever happen again. We lead different lives Jensen, not to mention the possible backlash from everyone we know.” Her mind was grasping for reasons that it wouldn’t work, because that was the only way she would be able to get over it when it did end. She turned and walked away from him, plopping down onto her couch. Jensen followed her, sitting on the edge, his body turned towards her.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last night in Vancouver.” Jensen admitted. “And last night… last night was amazing. I don’t think that is something that you just let go of.” He placed his hand on her knee, squeezing it so she would look up at him. “Y/n, you are this crazy, beautiful, insanely intelligent mystery that I just want to get to know better. Believe me when I say that last night wasn’t just about the sex, no matter how great it was. Let me take you out on a proper date this time, let’s do it right.” 

“Jensen,” She started, ready to tell him all the reasons she had come up with why it wouldn’t work, as much as she didn’t want to believe them. “What about Jared? As much as I love my brother, I don't think he would be too thrilled about this.” 

“We don’t even have to tell anyone, at least until we figure out what all this is. Just look me in the eyes and tell me it’s not something you want, and I’ll drop it. We go back to being friends and forget this ever happened.” He stared at her, intent on keeping her gaze. The intensity of his stare stirred up those butterflies inside her again, and she knew that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t want to do it all again. She couldn’t tell him that all she had wanted since she ran from his room this morning was to crawl back into bed with him because they would all be lies. How could she say no to the man basically begging at her feet? It was like he said, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, and who knows, maybe they aren’t meant to be. What is life without taking a few risks, and she would be damned if she didn’t take this one. A small smile began to form on her lips as she held his gaze.

“Is that a yes?” His voice was wary as he stared at her. 

“It is Ackles, so you better make it worth my while.” He flashed her a toothy grin, his tongue peeking between his teeth.

“Don’t you worry sweetheart, I never leave a woman disappointed.” 

****

A week went by without another word from Jensen. She saw him in passing when she was at Jared’s house to say one last goodbye to Gen and the kids. He didn’t say much to her, but he wasn’t avoiding her either. The whole concept of a secret relationship, if you could even call it a relationship, was foreign to her. She had no idea how to act when they were around other people. The lack of communication between them didn’t exactly help either. They were stuck in this weird limbo between a hook up and a ‘first date’ and neither of them knew what to do.

The thoughts in her brain where firing on overdrive every time he was near her that day. She was like a dog in heat, and the only thing on her mind was the way his muscles rippled under strain, or his breathy moans in her ear as he fucked her. On multiple occasions, Gen had to snap her out of her little trances. She would brush it off, telling them that she was just thinking about work. That then would only lead to everyone telling her that she worked too hard, which wasn’t a lie per se, it just wasn’t her current problem. 

Her excitement to be back in Vancouver only heightened as the week passed. It would give her the perfect opportunity to be distracted by something other than Jensen, at least that was what she hoped. 

She grabbed her bag from the security conveyor and followed after Jensen and Jared towards their gate. “I guess I’ll see you guys when we land.” She stopped outside the first class lounge, her stomach knotting up as she glanced towards her crowded gate. 

“Think again.” Jared grinned. 

“What are you talking about?” She had no clue what he was hinting at, but judging from the look on his face, he was up to something. Jared pointed to her hand that held her passport and boarding pass. 

“Take a look at your ticket.” She glared at him suspiciously before she scanned the boarding pass in her hand. Under the boarding class, it read ‘First Class’. 

“Jared, what did you do?” She sighed. 

“I upgraded your ticket.” He was all smug, not catching on to the tone in his sister’s voice. 

“Why? You know I don’t care about that crap.” 

“You don’t care about your seat, but I know how you feel about airports. It’s much quieter and less crowded in here and you deserve it.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her into the lounge, not allowing her to protest. There was a tv on one wall playing the local news station. On the opposite wall was a table with snacks and fresh coffee. Jared wasn’t wrong when he said she would feel better in the lounge. It had put her at ease just walking through the doors. 

“So, this is how the other half lives?” She teased as she chose a seat to rest in before boarding. 

“Get used to it. Before long, you’ll make more money than I do and you’ll be purchasing all the first class tickets your heart desires.” Jared admitted as he sat in the seat beside her. She shook her head at Jared’s antics. She didn’t want to admit to how much she was already enjoying his surprise. It made her a little guilty that he had done something so nice for her and here she was, hooking up with his best friend and hiding it all from him. Both her and Jensen had decided though, that until they could figure out whatever it was that was happening between them, it would stay just between them. What was the point in fighting with everyone if all of meant nothing in the end anyway? 

She sat back in her seat, watching the news as they waited to board. They were being called onto the plane shortly after they had arrived. She followed behind Jared and Jensen down the tarmac, their longer legs carrying them faster than she could go. Not to mention she was busy reading the seat number on her ticket as she walked, allowing a few people to slip in between the guys and her. To her surprise, as she came up to her seat, her neighbor was none other than Jensen. 

“Really? That’s convenient.” She met his smile as he stood up when he noticed her. He took her carry-on from her and lifted it into the overhead bin. 

“I promise I had nothing to do with it.” He closed the full compartment and stepped back so she could slip into the window seat. She set her purse down and buckled up as Jensen did the same. 

“Just lucky I guess.” She turned her head, looking around for her brother. He sat at a window seat on the other side of the plane, two rows back from them. He waved when she met his eye and she offered him a small wave back. 

“Think he can hear us?” Jensen’s voice was low as she settled into her seat. 

“I doubt it. He’ll probably have his headphones in any second anyway.” 

Jensen turned his head towards her, his voice low. “How have you been this week?” 

“Honestly? Weird. I don’t know how to do this, how to act. I’ve never had to hide from the people around me in that sort of way.” Her voice trailed off as the flight attendant came and asked if they wanted a drink. Both of them opted for a water. As soon as the attendant had handed them their drinks and was out of ear shot, Jensen spoke again. 

“I know what you mean. When I saw you at Jared’s, I had to fight the urge to kiss you on the spot.” His words had her breath catching. She cleared her throat and took a drink of the small water bottle in her lap. He had a smug grin on his face as she looked back at him. 

“You enjoy seeing me flustered don’t you?” She bit her lip as she tried to hide her own smile. The stern face she was attempting to convey was failing to come across properly.

“I do, especially when your cheeks flush pink like that,” He tipped his chin at her and she could feel her blush deepening. “Been thinking about about your flushed skin all week.” 

“Oh,” She looked away from him and crossed her legs. He chuckled lowly at his success as the plane took off. “You need to behave.” She pointed a stern finger at him. He put his hands up but she could still see the twinkle in his eye. Jensen didn’t understand the concept of behaving. If he kept it up, she would never make it through this flight. That little growl he had as his voice dropped went straight to her core, and she could feel the slick settling between her legs. 

All of his comments were giving her whiplash. He was more brazen after not talking for nearly a week than she was expecting. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, she just had no idea where they sat with each other, and him trying to rile her up in front of a plane full of people was just as confusing as it was arousing. The two of them had only slept together once, but it was almost like he knew her better than she knew herself. 

She made a show of taking out her headphones and putting them in her ears, letting him know that she was pointedly ignoring any further attempt he would have devised to get under her skin. The attendants brought by snacks and more drinks for them. Besides interacting with them, she was doing a good job of ignoring Jensen. After her second bottle of water though, she needed to use the restroom. 

She pulled out her headphones and unbuckled her belt. “Can I get up? I need to use the restroom.” She nudged his knee. 

“Oh, now you want to talk to me.” He undid his own seatbelt and stood up into the aisle. 

“I’ll talk to you as long as you can behave. Can you do that?” She paused before continuing. 

“No promises, but I’ll try.” He played. She nodded and headed to the small bathroom. The bathroom seemed to be more roomy than she was expecting, though still small. Just another stupid perk of first class. Jared was trying to spoil her, and she hated that it was working. She washed her hands and pulled on the door. The overhead light shut off and the light from the main cabin was blocked by a large figure in the opening. 

“Jay?” She had not been expecting him to be there, and was even more thrown when he pushed her back into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. “What the hell are you doing?” The two of them were nearly chest to chest in the tight space. 

“Don’t worry, Jared is sleeping.” Jensen put his hands on her jaw, bringing her face up to his. Her body reacted to him of its own accord, closing the small space and opening her mouth to him. She could taste his cinnamon gum on his lips and smell his signature cologne. It all brought her back to New Year’s and she never wanted it to end.

“‘T’s not Jared I’m worried about.” Her words were breathy as she pulled away from him. “I’d rather not get arrested.” Jensen chuckled, pressing his lips back to hers. His tongue swiped across her lips and she granted him access. Their tongues moved together until her head was dizzy and her chest was heaving. 

“I just couldn’t wait to do that again.” He brushed his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. 

“Well now that you have it out of your system, can we go back to our seats before someone catches us?” Jensen nodded at her request.

“One last thing. Friday at nine, think you can slip out past your brother?” He grabbed the handle to the door, ready to walk out. 

“I’ll figure something out.” She agreed. Jensen pulled open the door, the light above them going out again. 

“Good, now go, I’ll be out in a minute.” He urged her out of the bathroom. She peeked her head out and made sure no one was paying attention before heading back to her seat. She sat down and buckled up, her lips still tingling from his touch and a soft smile on her face.

Part 12

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @casualfestivaltrashpainter​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @frackinawesomeninja​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ 

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#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackels x plus size reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x plus sized!reader #plus sized reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fic #spn rpf #supernatural rpf #nhl rpf #jensen ackles x sister!padalecki #jared padalecki x sister!reader #alex writes #mine #happiness begins

[hockeylvr59]

What Happens in Vegas || Jamie Benn

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I’m not a doctor/chiropractor but I have worked for one for a few years so I have a little more than an elementary knowledge on the subject. If there are any inaccuracies though, I don’t claim to be an expert. Also, the concept for this was supposed to be porn without plot but it’s more plot with a little porn...oops.

Also if it wasn’t obvious, this was inspired by the Stars recent Vegas trip. 

Warnings: SMUT, insecurity (plus sized reader)

Word Count: 5,270

“What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.” That was the motto your friends were currently planning to live by at least.

Having touched down late last night, this was your first full day in Sin City. You’d come with the girls in your class for a girls’ weekend to celebrate graduation...the end of eight years of higher education. After four years of undergrad and another four spent studying the human nervous system, you’d walked across the stage and received your diploma last week and it was only boards that stood in the way of officially being a licensed physician.

‘Dr.’  was a title that you had worked your butt off to earn and while there were a lot of people that would say that you weren’t a real doctor, you’d completed a course load that was similar to that of medical doctors. In your mind, being a chiropractor was a way to assist people in the pursuit of real wellness goals, to fix the real problems that caused so many diseases, to really help people instead of just treating the symptoms.

Nonetheless, this trip was to forget about the crazy amount of information you had crammed into your brain and instead to take a step back and relax. Though, you had a different definition of relax when compared to your friends. They had plans to find and flirt with as many hot guys as possible, to gamble, to drink, and to take in the full experience of Vegas nightlife.

Your plans....well they were a lot more mellow. At the top of your list was the Mob Museum followed by the Natural History Museum and the Springs Preserve. After that...well you’d maybe take in a show, walk the strip to see the sights, nothing too crazy. This morning though, they’d found out that there was a VIP pool party and had somehow managed to talk their way into it, dragging you along.

Knowing that they were going to spend their entire time flirting with every guy in sight and drinking way more than they should, you really didn’t want to go but decided not to fight them. Instead, you threw a bottle of water, some sunscreen, and a book into a tote bag and headed down to the lobby to meet them after changing.

As you entered the pool area you immediately cursed to yourself as you realized that the VIP pool party you were at was filled with members of the Dallas Stars hockey team. None of your friends followed hockey closely, though the looks they were giving you told you that they were aware of exactly what they had dragged you to. Biting your lip, you stretched onto tiptoes in order to find an empty lounge chair off to the side so you could slip away from the main happenings. You could name at least half the players that were drinking and being fawned over by every woman present and to say it was an intimidating sight was an understatement.

See...you didn’t look like those girls. You didn’t even look like your friends. Though you were a doctor, your health journey hadn’t been easy and was very much still a work in progress. While all the other girls here were dressed in skimpy bikinis, you had a pair of Bermuda shorts on covering your swim bottoms (and your fat thighs) and your olive green bikini top was mostly hidden under your sheer black cover-up in an attempt to make you a little less self-conscious.

Spotting a chair, you waved at your friends to have fun before crossing the pool deck and settling yourself down. Sprayed with sunscreen and with a book in hand you let yourself get lost in the world created by the author. This was the first book you’d read that hadn’t been about the human body in almost a year and so it was easy to forget about where you were and let your mind wander.

It had to have been at least a half an hour later when you set the book on your knee to take a swig of your bottle of water. Scanning the area for your friends you nodded to yourself seeing them laugh and flirt with whoever would pay them mind. When your eyes met the deep brown of the Stars captain, your mouth went dry again and you sent him a polite smile before returning to your book. What you didn’t know was that he’d been eyeing you since you walked through the doors.

Other members of the Stars had noticed though and were shoving Jamie, urging him to approach you. He didn’t, but at least twice more when you looked up from your book you caught him watching you, causing him to quickly look away and return to his friends and teammates.

Hours later, when you were certain that any longer in the sun would cause you to come away with a nasty burn, you collected your things and slipped your sandals back on. While you debated getting food, a nap sounded like a much better idea and so you decided to head back up to the room for a bit. Texting your friends that you were leaving and would meet up with them later for food, you headed back inside and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to take you back up to your room.

Just before the elevator doors shut, a hand reached in to stop them and you swallowed hard as Jamie Benn stepped into the enclosed space with you, pressing the button for his own floor. Glancing up at him for a moment you wondered if he had followed you or if this was just a coincidence. The latter seemed more realistic but also more unlikely. Then again you were probably just imagining him staring at you.

Reaching into your bag for a hair tie, you pulled your dark locks onto the top of your head, trying to allow the cool air to reach the back of your neck. After a moment, the man next to you cleared his throat and when you looked over at him he was rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes focused on you.

“You uh...you really came to a party to read huh?” He finally declared, his eyes going a bit wider as he thought about how that may have sounded. “I mean uh...not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just...it was different.” He finally mumbled, shaking his head as if he regretted opening his mouth at all.

A blush flooded your cheeks and you shifted your weight nervously on your feet.

“Well, I guess different is probably a good word to describe me then. I’m not the social butterfly that my friends are, and no offense but you guys are a bit intimidating.” Braving a glance up at Jamie you saw his face scrunched in confusion. “I mean it's not every day you’re surrounded by a bunch of NHL players and I know you’re probably all normal guys but…” Thankfully the elevator reached your floor and allowed you to trail off. “This is me.” You whispered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before stepping out of the elevator.

In a way, you were relieved when Jamie didn’t follow you and after closing the door to your room, you flopped down on the bed. What you didn’t say was that you knew that you definitely weren’t their type...you weren’t blond or tiny...and so reading seemed far better than making a fool of yourself.

___

You’d met the girls for dinner downstairs and then they’d headed off to get ready to go out to the clubs. They’d tried to get you to go with them but you weren’t really in the mood for loud music and drunken people. Instead, you were going to walk around the hotel, maybe take a late night swim if the pool was somewhat empty or sit in the hot tub for a while.

Having slipped back into the same outfit from earlier you headed out for a walk and when you reached the pool area you saw that it was fairly quiet considering. There was one person in the hot tub but it wasn’t until you’d already started stripping down to your suit that you realized that once again you’d come across the Stars’ captain.

For a moment you’d debated redressing and leaving but then Jamie turned his head having heard you moving around and for some reason, he smiled.

“Mind if I join you?” You murmured softly, not wanting to interrupt if he wanted to be alone. When he motioned for you to enter the water, you nodded, wrapping your towel around you until you reached the edge of the hot tub before laying it down and quickly slipping under the water, hoping that the man across from you wasn’t paying attention to the shape of your body. The water felt great and you stretched your neck as you let your muscles loosen up due to the heat.

Jamie didn’t say a word to you, though you could feel his gaze drifting toward you every so often. Eventually, the silence was overwhelming and you bit your lip before speaking.

“So...not going out to the clubs with the guys?” You questioned softly, causing Jamie to look up at you.

“Nah. Probably not.” At first, he didn’t say anything more and if this was how this was going to go you weren’t going to be staying long. “I hurt my shoulder in playoffs and it decided to flare up this afternoon.” He finally murmured. Wincing sympathetically, you nodded.

“I hope you didn’t tear anything.” You sighed, knowing hockey players frequently played through injuries that they really shouldn’t. You weren’t sure if he would tell you what had happened and you didn’t expect him to though your comment may have suggested otherwise.

“Just a strain.” He replied, closing his eyes before leaning his head back, dipping his large body further into the water. When he reached up to fix his hair you could see him wince and you shifted a bit closer unconsciously.

“Let me see.” You found yourself declaring softly, motioning for him to shift. “I’m a chiropractor.” You added hoping that you hadn’t freaked him out. He eyed you warily and you sighed. “I’m not going to treat you if you don’t want me to, but at least let me make sure you aren’t going to hurt yourself more…” You whispered pleadingly.

When Jamie shifted so that his back was to you, you couldn’t help but flush at how defined the muscles there were. His chest and abs were one thing but his back was something else. Gently, you first ran your fingers over his spine, judging his alignment, before you trailed out to the muscles of his shoulder, mentally mapping their connection points. Pressing gently you felt him wince when you hit a tender spot that must be the site of the injury. Tracking back toward his spine you felt a large knot in the muscle which was certainly not helping things.

“Well, no wonder it flared up…” You said softly. “You’ve got a pretty large knot going which is putting more tension on your real problem spot.”

“Guess I need to see a massage therapist.” He shrugged though the action made it clear that he was in a little bit more pain than he was admitting.

“Or you can let me take care of it now so you can stop hurting.” You declared, raising an eyebrow. “I got my massage license before starting chiropractic college to help pay the bills...I am quite capable of taking care of it as long as there isn’t anything there that I need to be worried about aggravating…”

When Jamie shook his head you backed off taking it as he didn’t want your help. As you moved to get out of the hot tub he quickly reached for your hand.

“Wait...I didn’t mean no I didn’t want you to help. I meant no there’s no prior injuries in that spot.” Nodding at his clarification you still reached for your towel and climbed out of the hot tub and when you looked over your shoulder Jamie was frowning.

“Are you coming?” You asked. “I’m going to need lotion if I’m going to do this right and there isn’t any here…”

Within seconds, Jamie was out of the water and was drying himself off as well and within minutes the two of you were headed upstairs. “My room or yours?” You questioned not sure whether a) he had lotion and b) he would have a comfort preference.

“Either is fine.” He insisted. “You’re the one lending your skills so I shouldn’t be picky.”

Leading him to your room you instructed him to lay face down on the bed while you gathered lotion and slipped a real shirt back onto your body. Settling onto your knees beside him on the bed, you warmed up some lotion with your hands before gently rubbing it over his skin to warm the area back up.

“This is going to hurt a bit but I’m sure you know that…” You muttered, digging your thumbs into the knotted area with significant pressure. You could use harder pressure if need be but didn’t want to hurt him too much since you didn’t know his pain tolerance. This pressure would work, it would just take a little longer. Jamie flinched a bit but as you worked the knot out he began to relax. Once the knot was gone, you instructed him to move his shoulder into different positions: along his side, up perpendicular to his body and then over his head so that you could assure that there wasn’t anything else there besides his injury which would take a little longer to heal.

“How does that feel?” You inquired wanting to make sure that beyond your assessment, that he noticed a difference and wasn’t feeling pain anywhere else. Sitting up, Jamie tested his shoulder out a bit more before a relaxed smile graced his face.

“Much better. Thank you...I really appreciate it.” Knowing that you had helped someone out of pain always made you feel good and you blushed softly.

“Good I’m glad. Make sure you see your chiropractor soon though, you are definitely in need of an adjustment.” You added not willing to do it yourself without having imaging and access to his medical history.

With Jamie just stretching a bit, you moved to the bathroom to wash the excess lotion off your hands. While still in the bathroom you sighed softly to yourself, examining your image in the mirror. Your skin was still flushed from Jamie’s presence and your hair was going crazy from the humidity of the hot tub. The shirt you’d thrown on really did nothing for you but you’d brought it because it was comfortable. Overall it was hard to love what you saw staring back at you and once again you felt the wave of insecurity being statistically overweight brought.

Taking your hair down to run your fingers through it you tried to talk yourself out of your self-pity. After a moment, you turned to return to the room and were shocked to find Jamie standing in the doorway watching you. The look on his face seemed concerned and his eyes were soft as he leaned against the doorframe.

“How long were you standing there, Jesus…” You questioned, as you tried to slip past him to exit the room full of mirrors. Instead of answering you right away, Jamie’s hand reached out to stop you from going anywhere.

“I know that look…” He murmured, his fingers reaching for your chin when you tried to look at the ground in shame. His touch caused you to swallow hard, not sure why he was still here and why he was looking at you like that. With his large frame blocking your escape from the bathroom, you were gently pressured back into the room, Jamie’s hands turning you to look at the mirror once more.

“I don’t know what you see when you look at yourself, though I feel like I could probably hazard a guess if I had to….” He spoke softly, the dulcet tone of his voice making your head swim slightly. “But I feel like I should tell you what I see...even if you may not believe me.” You wanted to panic, you wanted to kick him out of your room, but something deep inside you forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror instead, watching as he took in your body’s reflection.

“I see a woman who has incredibly strong but yet caring hands. I see a woman who has natural beauty without the need for mountains of makeup. I see a woman whose eyes just light up in a way that not many can. I see a woman who has this grace radiating from her. I see a woman who has curves a real man can appreciate. But most of all…I see a woman who has no idea the effect she has on men or just how sexy she is.”

Jamie’s eyes had gone dark and while he had yet to move his hands from your waist, you could practically feel them twitching with the desire to move, to touch. With his eyes watching you, Jamie waited for a moment before stepping closer, the length of his body pressed against your back. His mouth dropped closer to your ear and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin causing it to prickle.

“You can pretend that you didn’t see me watching you today. But I’m not going to pretend that anyone else even began to hold my attention from the moment you walked through those doors. You intrigue me. You arouse me. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all day. The guys tried to get me to make a move earlier but I was stubborn and I missed out. I told myself that if I saw you again I wouldn’t make that same mistake twice. And then fate dropped you right back into my life at the hot tub.”

The way he spoke, the words he said, they all caused your normally logical brain to fog. For a moment you didn’t even hear him continue to speak softly in your ear but when your brain checked back in you couldn’t help but gasp.

“If you’re not interested, that’s fine, I know how to take no for an answer….but if you are interested I can show you just how desirable you are.”

“You can’t be serious…” The words of disbelief left you without even a second’s pause. There was no way someone like him, someone who could have anyone they wanted, wanted you. Though Jamie had felt solidly pressed against your back before, he took another half step forward to be impossibly close and now the fact that there was a bulge in his swim trunks was impossible to deny.

“Feels pretty serious to me.” He teased and as he pulled back his teeth grazed your ear lobe gently causing you to squeak. “But I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to...so I need to know if you’re in or not.”

Looking back at the mirror, you couldn’t help but really take in the sight of the two of you together in the mirror. Instead of focusing on all of your insecurities, you took in the way his body looked pressed into your own and the way your skin was glowing under his attention. Meeting his gaze again, you nodded and seeing your assent, Jamie twisted you around so that he could kiss you.

You had never been kissed like this. It felt like every cell in your body was suddenly pulsing and you couldn’t help but moan into Jamie’s mouth as his hands moved from your lower back to your ass. Neither dared pull back until you’d run out of breath and just as soon as you’d pulled away, his mouth was back on yours again as he slipped his hands down to the back of your thighs to lift you up and carry you back to the hotel bed.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” You chastized, knowing that you weighed more than he probably should be lifting with a hurt shoulder.

“Shush...I’m fine,” Jamie mumbled as he dipped his mouth down to your neck, kissing and licking at your pulse point before gently nipping down at the skin there, surely leaving a bruise. Jamie had never put a shirt back on, so you decided to take full advantage, your hands roaming over all of the exposed skin, taking extra time to trace his tattoos. It was clear that he appreciated your touch as a shiver went up his spine and you smiled at his reaction.

Suddenly, Jamie had rolled so that you were straddling him and his hands moved to the bottom of your shirt. You had no doubt that he knew you’d be self-conscious once clothes started to come off so Jamie made quick work of the shirt and your swimsuit top before quickly returning his mouth to your body, this time pressing feather-light kisses over the tops of your breasts and down your sternum.

“God you're gorgeous.” He breathed when he pulled back so that he could pull you into another kiss. “Nothing sexier than a real woman.” He added, his hands moving to your hips to urge you to roll them down against his own. The pressure of his length against your core made you whimper, a sound which turned to a scream as he decided that moment was the right one to latch onto your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth. His free hand quickly reached to roll the other between his fingers and you bucked your hips against his again, feeling your own arousal begin to take over.

You’d pressed your hands to his chest for stability earlier but after a moment you gently pushed his mouth away causing him to flop back onto the bed. You needed a moment to appreciate him and you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you teased your fingers over the planes of his muscles and then down over his stomach to his hips.

It was as you tucked your fingers under the waistband of his swim trunks that Jamie must have decided he wanted more control because he quickly flipped you back over, a knee coming to rest between your thighs as he hovered over you. This time it was his hands edging under your remaining clothing and you simply smiled up at him when he looked down at you. Though you wanted to quickly even the playing field, Jamie shook his hand and took your hands lifting them up above your head.

“No touching yet or this is all going to be over too soon…” He growled softly and the intensity of his gaze forced you to nod. Shifting back on his heels, Jamie took in your body and his stare made you shiver once more. “Seriously...you’re stunning.” He insisted, his hand brushing over your hip before dropping down to your knee which had parted to allow him to settle between your thighs.

“Jamie...please touch me.” You pleaded softly, the ache for release leaving you squirming and impatient. From its place on your knee, Jamie rubbed his hand up your thigh but refused to touch you where you really needed him.

“Hmm...is that what you really want baby?” He questioned, a smirk on his face as he took in the sight of how much he had already affected you. You frantically nodded, though at the same moment what you really wanted crossed your mind and it was clear that Jamie saw it in your expression.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? Because I think there’s something else…” He suggested his thumb brushing over your clit for just a second before he pulled away. “You can’t have it if you don’t tell me…” He added and you couldn’t help but twist your head as a laugh escaped your throat.

“Rumor has it that I can’t have what I really want either way.” You teased back, causing Jamie’s eyes to go wide. Before you could even blink he was completely on top of you again, almost crushing you under his weight as his mouth sucked a spot just under your ear.

“Rumors aren’t always true you know.” He whispered darkly. “So why don’t you tell me what it is that you want and maybe you’ll find out about this one.” Though Jamie’s voice was dark, a peek into his eyes showed that he wasn’t offended by your joke and you smiled back at him before raising an eyebrow.

“I guess so…” You started, you hands moving just enough to run through his hair. “Though I think you know what I want. I want your mouth on me. I want to feel the scrape of your beard against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I want to feel your tongue on my clit.” The way Jamie’s eyes went wide again almost made it seem like he wasn’t expecting you to be so open with your desires.

After kissing you deeply, he made his way back down your body before ending up just where you wanted him to.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” He murmured before he dove into your core, making you moan out again at the feeling of his mouth and beard. The rumors were clearly wrong because there was no way this was Jamie’s first time eating pussy. Everything he did made your toes curl and whimpers to slip from your throat. You were very very quickly hurtling toward your orgasm and though you expected him to stop, Jamie just continued to eat you out as you spilled your juices all over his face.

Though your body tried to settle, it was hard with Jamie’s tongue lapping at you and after a moment, you pushed at his head needing a break from the sensitivity those nerves were experiencing. As he moved back up to kiss you again, making you taste yourself on his mouth, you slipped your hands down to push at his swim trunks, really needing his remaining clothing gone. He didn’t fight you this time, helping to kick them off of his body so that you were both finally completely nude.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped his length in your hand, stroking softly. While you expected him to be big, he was exceeding expectations. When you tried to flip positions to return the favor, Jamie shook his head kissing you softly before moving his attention back to your neck again.

“I’m not gonna last if you blow me. I need to be inside you.” He groaned, his words making you whimper.

“Condom?” You whispered and when Jamie threw his head back exasperated, you sighed. Of course, he didn’t have one, he’d just been at the pool with the bare minimum on him. For a moment you debated seeing if he trusted your use of the pill but then you remembered the stupid ‘supply bag’ one of the girls had made up for each of you. You’d shoved it in your bag without really looking at it but knowing her it was bound to have a few condoms.

Pushing Jamie off of you, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to your bag, digging for a moment to find the gift bag, Dumping it out on the desk you smiled when your suspicions were correct and grabbing the condom you returned to bed.

“Thank god for friends right?” You commented, handing Jamie the condom and groaning at the fact that he had been stroking his cock while you’d been searching. “Holy shit Jamie…” You whimpered, the sight causing you to rub your thighs together in search of relief.

“Hmm...keep saying my name.” He urged, tugging you back onto the bed before rolling on top of you, his cock now sheathed in the condom.

“Jamie please…” You moaned, now feeling him pressed against your core but needing more. “I need you.” Leaning down to kiss you again, Jamie rested his forehead against yours for just a moment.

“I got you, babe. Going to make you feel so good.” His mouth swallowed your moans as he adjusted his hips and lined himself up with your core before slowly pressing in.

You had never been stretched the way that Jamie was stretching you now. Already you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow but it was going to be so worth it. As Jamie bottomed out inside you, you gasped at the feeling, a sound which quickly turned to a whimper because you needed him to move.

He didn’t make you wait long before he was pistoning his hips against yours, first slowly before settling into a more rhythmic pace once he was certain that he wouldn’t hurt you. With his body pressed over yours and his hands grazing over every inch of your skin it felt like he was everywhere and was completely overwhelming. You’d had sex before but it was nothing like this.

“More Jamie...more.” You moaned after a moment and Jamie thrust even harder into you, his free hand moving from its wandering down to rub over your clit.

“That’s it y/n...cum for me. You feel so good wrapped around my cock. I need to feel you, cum baby.”

You weren’t sure whether it was Jamie’s words or his actions that sent you flying to the edge before you even saw it coming and you screamed out his name as your body spasmed around him. Just as quickly as one orgasm ended another started and Jamie continued to praise you as you came again, pulling him along with you.

Rolling to the side so he wouldn’t crush you, Jamie slipped out of you before pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. For a moment you wondered if this was where things got awkward and he made some excuse to leave but instead Jamie pulled you into a soft kiss, his mouth moving leisurely over your own.

“Let me get rid of the condom and I’ll be back...promise.” He murmured as if again he knew exactly where your head was at. As promised he was back in less than a minute, this time bearing a warm washcloth to clean you up. Tossing the cloth aside, Jamie kissed you again before tucking his body around yours, pulling your head to his chest.

“God am I glad you showed up at the pool today.” He murmured, his fingers playing with your hair.

“I guess I am too.” You replied though you didn’t expect this to be anything more than a one night stand. Lifting your chin again, Jamie glared softly at you but didn’t say a word. If he was still here in the morning then you could discuss the ‘what now’, if not then well at least you had tonight. What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas and all that jazz.

The feeling of Jamie’s hands in your hair quickly lulled you to sleep and if you gained nothing else out of this trip than at least you knew that someone like him could want someone like you.

#jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn nws #nws #lemon #dstars #plus size hockey imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #016

[randomuploadburnerblog]

Alright, 31

Boy howdy it’s my first fic ever and there’s no way I’m putting my name to it so we’re on a burner blog baby!

Freddie Andersen x reader, a little fluffy, pretty smutty, basically my dream scenario (-:

Word count: 2205 woah

He’d been at work all day and you couldn’t wait until he got to your place. Both of you had decided to spend the holidays with your individual families this year since last year was your first Christmas away from the parents and just three months of dating seemed a little quick for him to meet them. Freddie got back to the city a couple days ago to get back into the swing of practices and press conferences before the Leafs’ special afternoon next gen game scheduled for today. You spent the extra couple days relaxing at your family cottage and overthinking every second of your reunion. It had only been a few weeks apart at this point, but coming back to an entire evening of Fred instead of just an hour after a late game? That thought made every minute feel like an eternity. Why couldn’t all NHL games be matinees?

You looked at the clock. He said he’d be at yours before 6:00 which gave you about two hours to prep dinner, freshen up, and try your hardest to slow your racing thoughts and heart.

After getting your anxiety out by spending too much time chopping vegetables and chicken and grating cheese, you figured you’d wait for Freddie to get home to cook it all. Besides, there was a slim chance that eating would be the first thing the two of you did when that giant goalie walked through the front door... You were still a virgin at this point, but enough flirty texts and real conversation led you to believe that tonight would be the night.

With less than half an hour of alone time left, you brushed your teeth, washed your face, checked yourself out over and over again, and put on one of your favourite Christmas gifts. You and your family aren’t ones for expensive clothing, but this year your mom splurged. And for good reason! It was about time that you got your first official NHL Toronto Maple Leafs jersey. You were dating a pretty big part of the team after all. 

You threw jersey #23 on over your cutest bralette and immediately grinned the cheekiest grin you’d ever had. Your mom made the right choice with Dermott. He had the best name and number combination and was one of your favourite players to watch. Plus, the thought of Freddie getting jealous of you having someone else’s last name on your back was turning you on already. 

Suddenly, you heard a knock. You ran to the front hall to greet your new boyfriend and swung the door open so fast it shocked you both. “Hi,” you squealed. 

Freddie pulled you into his arms midway through your greeting. “Hey,” he cooed. “Love the sweater.” He used his mass to push the two of you inside and closed the door.

You smiled into his chest, absorbing the heat and enjoying the smell of musk and day old cologne, but mostly thinking about how he only noticed the classic logo and probably wouldn’t love the sweater upon further inspection. Neither of you were planning on letting go until Freddie looked up and saw a giant 23 on your back reflected in the hallway mirror. 

“Woah! Hold on! Y/N... This doesn’t look like a 31 to me.” He turned you around to look in the mirror and lowered his eyes.

“Well I’m glad you can read numbers,” you said, smirking even more than before. You stepped away and headed to the kitchen, leaving Freddie to stand in the hall and watch that number sway with you while you walked. “We’re having fajitas!”

He took off his coat and shoes and dropped all his stuff before stomping over to where you were. You scanned his body up and down as he approached, his muscles taught from a long day and eyebrows furrowed from your immediate sass upon his arrival. Your heart rate increased with the endless possibilities of how this evening was about to transpire running through your head. 

“Why Travis?” Freddie grabbed the hem of your jersey and played with the soft material. 

“Well I figured Auston’s was too basic -”

You felt a warm set of lips on yours, cutting you off mid sentence. He slowly pulled away, teeth clutched to your bottom lip. Something about this was almost too careful. Where was the fierceness you expected from your easily riled up hockey boy?

“And 23 is a way better number than 31,” you finished.

Freddie’s hands brushed against your sides and pulled the jersey off your body with so much force that you heard a seam rip. There it is! Your eyes shot to the pile of blue and white on the kitchen floor. “Don’t worry about it,” Freddie said, breathing deeply. “I could probably get you one of those from Travis’ laundry anyway.” That last bit was obviously meant to be sarcastic, so your little bounce and “Would you please!” response sent your boyfriend over the edge.

Before you knew it, you were hanging over his shoulders being carried to your bedroom. 

“I love the view from here!” Humour was always your go to in nerve-wracking situations and your flushed face was mere inches from Freddie’s ass. All you really wanted to do was grab it, so you brought your hand up. But before it could make any contact, you were being thrown onto your queen size bed. 

“Two and a half weeks apart and this is what I have to put up with after a dumb loss?” Freddie crawled over you, never breaking eye contact. 

“Fred, I-”

You were cut off again, not by lips, but by some strong fingers snapping the waistband on your leggings. 

“Ow!” You blinked and just looked up at his fiery eyes. He kissed you hard, keeping his hands on your waist and gently pressing his body into you. He let you explore his mouth for just a second before pushing himself up and off you.

The man rolled off the side of the bed and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. All you could do was stare blankly at the shirtless Adonis now standing in front of you. 

“Please come kiss me again,” you said sheepishly. Your hands roamed his chest as Freddie crawled back up to lie beside you. Your next kiss was slow and deliberate. You scratched at his beard and he caressed your back. You felt down the curve in his side and he toyed with your bra straps. Almost in sync, you tugged on his belt buckle and he snapped the clasp of your bra open, revealing your sensitive nipples to the open air. He smiled into your lips, taking one breast into his hand, massaging it and rubbing circles into your nipple and made you gasp.

He took the opportunity to separate your mouths and stand back up. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N. You’re so beautiful and kind... And nefarious. For someone who claims to be clueless about romance and sex, god you know how to get me going.” He monologued and slowly took off his pants. Your eyes stayed locked on the soft briefs hugging your boyfriend’s butt as he walked around the room.

He kneeled over your hips and started peppering kisses across your neck and chest. Your breaths got heavier and you let out a moan. “I missed you. You’re so hot,” you panted as your fingers ran through his hair. You felt teeth grab one of your hardened nubs and had to hold back a scream. 

Freddie travelled further down your torso until reaching the waistband of your leggings, still clinging to your sweating body. He looked up and raised an eyebrow, asking for permission. You nodded. His calloused, yet soft, fingers hooked into your leggings and panties and peeled them both off. The friction of his hands gliding down your legs was enough to make you throw your head back with pleasure. 

“Oh babe, you’re soaked already.” With one swift motion, his hands were on your hips, his shoulders between your thighs, and his tongue ran all the way up through the lips of your pussy, tasting the wetness. You shivered and moaned louder than you thought possible with this new sensation breaking down your walls. His tongue continued to work away at your core, playing with your clit and dipping in and out of your hole.

You were seeing stars at this point, body writhing underneath your giant lover. Your arms had been frozen in place above your head and it took every ounce of energy to finally say, “Fred, please, I think I’m close.”

He backed away and placed chaste kisses on your stomach and thighs as your breathing calmed ever so slightly. He stood up at the end of the bed and removed the fabric that had been concealing his hard and already dripping cock. 

You gasped. With all of your overthinking and day dreams of this moment, nothing had prepared you for how big and ready your boyfriend’s member would be. 

“Are you okay? We can stop if you’re not ready,” Freddie said with a look that could only be described as loving. 

You nodded. “Yes... You’re... I’m... Perfect.” You paused, still staring into his wild eyes. “I just didn’t know I’d like this view so much.” You looked down at his crotch and licked your lips. Your body jumped up before your brain could decide what it was doing. You moved towards the man and gently grabbed the shaft of his dick, Freddie’s breath catching in the back of his throat. 

You slowly pumped your hand and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock before a big set of hands pushed you back on the bed. “There’s no way I’m going to last with your pretty mouth around me,” he said matter-of-factly. The Dane hovered over you again, being sure not to make your groins touch while the two of you kissed passionately. Only a couple minutes had passed before he was out of breath again and asked, “are you ready?”

You held his shoulders for dear life and whispered, “yes.”

Freddie reached for the condom he had placed on your nightstand without you realising. He tore it open, slid it on, and kissed you again. Suddenly, there were thighs in between yours and fingers pushed into your vagina, curling into your g-spot and stretching your entrance. Freddie lowered his body onto yours and the contact made you arch your back. You had never been closer to your boyfriend, or more comfortable, until seconds later when he pushed his hard cock into your centre. 

You threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god!”

“You like the feeling of having me inside you? I bet you do... Especially after how hard you tried to make me jealous.” Freddie whispered filth into your ear about everything he’d always wanted to do to you and how you were his and no one else’s. He lifted your legs to straddle his lower back and moved in and out of you with so much strength, you thought you might break. You bit into his stiff shoulder muscle to hold back your squeals and moans and he reached around to slap your ass.

That finally brought you to the top. “Baby, I’m gonna cum! Please, fuck me harder!”

You heard a stifled laugh and felt your boyfriend pull out of you almost completely before slamming into you so hard that you screamed. An orgasm took over your body instantly, your head pushing back  against the pillow and every part of you tingling. Seconds later, Freddie released inside you and let out a high pitch moan that made you burst into laughter. He pulled out, got up, and tossed the condom into the trash while you caught your breath and sat up on the bed. 

The smiles you exchanged were the sweetest either of you had ever seen. He came over to the bed where you were still giggling and wiped a tear from under your eye.

“Oh... I didn’t even know I was crying,” you said hoarsely, “that was amazing. You’re amazing.” You held his face and kissed his soft, puffy lips. 

He broke away for a moment and said, “so, fajitas?” You chuckled and started getting up off the bed. “I love you Y/N.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “I love you too, Frederik.”

You turned to head over to your closet and throw on something cozy. “Wait!” Freddie had left the room to grab sweats from his bag and came back with something big and blue. “Wear this,” he said with a smirk.

It was his jersey. It smelled like your beautiful boyfriend after having been stuck in a gym bag with the rest of his clothes and it was so huge on you that you definitely didn’t need to wear pants. But that would just make things easier for after dinner anyway. 

You did a twirl in the giant sweater and looked in the mirror as Freddie came up and hugged you from behind. “Alright, 31 is an okay number,” you teased.

“As long as your back says Andersen, you can wear whatever number you want, love.”

#nhl imagines #hockey imagines #frederik andersen #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen #travis dermott #toronto maple leafs imagine #first fic and proud of it #hockey fanfic #Frederik Andersen fanfic

[sweettomyhoney]

𝚁𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚢|𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗 𝙷𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝: "𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗 𝙷𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢? 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎? "

𝙿𝚜: (𝙸𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗)

𝙿𝚘𝚟: !𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚜 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢!

Quinn was turning 24 this October.

You were trying to figure out what to do for your boyfriend’s birthday.

You put together a list of all the things that you needed to do.

Figuring out who to invite was the easiest of course.

Quinn’s brothers,Closest teammates, Parents, and friends from back home.

Coming up with ideas of what to do stumped you.

Quinn is a quiet person with a super competitive spirit.

So finding things that would please him was always hard.

Your boyfriend has a resting face

And when you do get the chance to make him smile, it warms your heart.

With hours of thinking of what you could do to make your boyfriend have the best birthday you had nothing

You were definitely overthinking

You decided to call the people who know him best.

It was time to schedule a FaceTime call with his brothers

————————

“ LUKEYYY BABY!” You said with a laugh.

“ HEY GURRLL” Luke responded.

————— Jack Joins

“Hello Jacquline nice for you join us” you said to Jack with a smile.

“Is it Girl chat time?” Jack laughed

“ Yes I need to figure out what to do for Quinn’s birthday and I want to know if you guys have any ideas” you told them.

“ Well Quinn always loves Top Golf let’s go there” Jack said with a sly grin

“What? So you guys can end up bitching over who the best golfer is? No thanks!” Luke replied

“How about K1 Speed it is fun and you get your competitive itch scratched” Luke continued

“That sound like a good idea”you replied looking up the locations

“Yeah that is a good idea they also have a bar you can get absolutely plastered at and you can throw axes” Jack added

“ Okay thank you boys K1 it is! Love y’all tell you momma Hughesi said hello ” you said bed ending the call

————————————

You then jumped on scheduling and book reservations

You rented out the whole K1 Speed including the Open Bar

You got on the phone with Quinn’s favorite Jewish bakery to make his cake

You ordered catering from Quinn’s favorites restaurants

You also hired a Dj to play music as you raced around the track.

You then called the Printers to make and send out invitations

Finally you grabbed Quinn’s birthday gift

It was a brand new set of golf putters he has been looking at

Even tho Quinn was a man of wealth he was a grounded individual

He would spend money on others before him self always

This was your time to return your boyfriends kindness

This 24th birthday was definitely going to be one for the books

________________

The day of the party came around and Quinn had no idea what to expect.

You did lead him on to make him think he was getting a subtle birthday.

You told him that you two would do something small like dinner.

You got in the car and gave Quinn directions to the place.

Every thing was fine till we arrived at the go cart place

————

“Babe this is not a restaurant did you give me the wrong address” Quinn asked.

“No this is the place” you said getting out the car with a smile.

Quinn followed behind you in to the building

As you to entered you were met with all of Quinn’s friends ready to party

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUINN!” Everyone said in excitement.

“Shots and Go Carts babe! Thank you for this “Quinn said giving you a kiss

“ You are welcome my sweet baby. NOW LETS PARTY !” You replied.

The night went amazingly

Everyone had so much fun and Quinn really enjoyed his birthday

But when everything was said and done all Quinn wanted was you

“ Hey babe?” Quinn whispered in your ear

Do you want to sneak away and do a quick one” Quinn asked

“ I would be a fool not to” you replied

Quinn and you then ended the night tanged up, happy and in love that night

“ Best Birthday ever” Quinn said kissing your forehead goodnight .

#quinn hughes x reader #hockey #nhl #jack hughes #hockey tea #quinn hughes #plus size hockey imagine #black nhl imagines #vancouver

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Karlsson, Strome, Maroon, Ennis, a Sharks prospect and more (July 9)

Ramblings: Karlsson, Strome, Maroon, Ennis, a Sharks prospect and more (July 9)

***

I always stress to fantasy owners – never hold onto a prospect you hope will be as good as Player X, if you can actually use him to get Player X. This applies to the real-world case of Erik Karlsson. Dallas should give up Miro Heiskanen, simple as that. If Karlsson signs an extension, then voila – you have your defenseman who could be as good as Erik Karlsson signed for the next eight years. And his name is Erik Karlsson. And don’t tell me how he’ll lose a step in four years or has lost a step now – this guy is the Crosby of defenseman and he has not lost a step now, and won’t in four years. Nicklas Lidstrom had 70 points when he was 36 and so could Karlsson. He’s that good. Generational. Hold onto Heiskanen and miss out on Karlsson? Don’t be stupid.

Speaking of stupid, Ottawa GM Pierre Dorion can redeem himself here by either re-signing Karlsson (obviously not going to happen, but one can dream?) or getting a huge and satisfying return on him in a trade. And to do that, he needs to let this thing drag out for at least a month. There’s literally no rush here, play one team off the other. Rinse, repeat.

*

Scott Maran’s hard line on Ryan Strome yesterday (here) generated a ton of discussion. I’m still tempted to put him on my fantasy roster, acquiring him at a low price…but I haven’t put out feelers yet so clearly I’m not very confident in him. It’s that “what if he plays with McDavid” intrigue that I (and many of you) often fall victim. It’s a lottery ticket. I think we all know who the favorites are and we all have hunches as to who will likely get first dibs there. Ryan Nugent-Hopkins and Jesse Puljujarvi are my two guesses, with Ty Rattie and Kailer Yamamoto as the runners up, but I wouldn’t discount Drake Caggiula, Pontus Aberg or Strome either. Likely scenario? Everyone gets a few games on the McDavid line, resulting in mediocre totals for everyone and lots of waiver-wire scrambling throughout the season as players get hot and cold. Just like always.

Long shots – Cooper Marody and Tobias Rieder.

*

The San Jose Sharks signed Vladislav Kotkov to a three-year entry-level contract. Kotkov was ranked 75th in our Fantasy Prospects Report for the 2018 NHL Draft…and then he wasn’t drafted. The Sharks may have gotten a steal there. Here is what Peter Harling wrote about him in the FPR:

The big 6-3 Russian winger made his North American debut after being selected 32nd overall in the 2017 CHL Import Draft. In his rookie season he produced 21 goals and 49 points but slowed down as the season wore on which is a red flag for scouts. Kotkov is a versatile and well-rounded player, he has size, a good first step, has skill, and can play in all situations. While he is a well-rounded player that is good all over, he does not really excel in any one area.

He also compared him a little to Alex Radulov in terms of upside. When players like Kotkov slip through the draft and can just be signed by NHL teams, I’d be trading my fifth/sixth/seventh round picks for assets all the time. What’s the point in keeping them? If I could swap my fifth and sixth rounder and get a fourth in return, I’d do that for sure! Especially if I could just turn around and sign a couple of Top 100 ranked prospects who fell through the draft (there were several of them this year).

The Sharks were always this team that lacked prospect depth, but hit home runs with one of them every year or two. Doing the FPR for 12 years I have observed this. But now they actually do have a handful of promising guys who could make a mark within three years.

*

It’s looking like Patrick Maroon will sign with the Blues, although right now the official party line is that things are still not settled yet and the Blues have a good chance. Maroon is from St. Louis, which is why he would bother to sign with a team that is already so deep. The Blues this summer are getting pretty powerful – if Jake Allen ever decides to suddenly see his potential, then this team becomes elite.

If and when Maroon signs, I will break it down for you in terms of fantasy implications.

*

Here is an interesting interview with the agent for Artemi Panarin (may be behind a paywall). Of note: “he loves the team, he loves the coach. It’s not the team or the way they treat him. It’s about, does he want to spend the next eight years in Columbus? That’s the only thing at stake right now. If it was a two-year deal we probably would have done it. But it isn’t a two-year deal. It’s gonna have to be an extended, seven- or eight-year deal put in place.”

*

Everyone loves the Tyler Ennis signing for Toronto. And what’s not to love? He has some upside and there’s virtually no risk. A very small contract that could be buried in the minors, plus a one-year deal that doesn’t handcuff them, and he cost them no assets. And I’ve always liked Ennis, as you probably know. But what’s the point? He’s not going to get a shot. Fourth line? Why? Ennis was a potential star who was derailed by injuries which stunted his development as well as probably hurt his actual skill level. Any upside that he has left can only be seen on a scoring line. Put him on the fourth line and you may as well put him in the press box. And for him to be on a scoring line, two of: William Nylander, Auston Matthews, John Tavares, Mitch Marner, Zach Hyman need to be hurt. And they need to be hurt for an extended period of time because even if Ennis clicked on one of the big lines he would just lose his spot as soon as the regular player returned from injury. This won’t happen, so I ask again – what’s the point? In fact, this could even hurt the team more than help, as it will almost certainly mean that Josh Leivo spends another year in the press box and Andreas Johnsson’s ice time gets cut or downright eliminated. Does that help his development? Does it help the team win? I sincerely hope it works out for Ennis – as I said, I like him – but I just don’t see it. And besides all that, I think Minnesota gave him some good linemates and decent ice time last year, especially early on. Nothing came of it.

*

Quick thoughts on Anthony Duclair – I don’t think he can bounce back and I don’t have any faith in him as a fantasy asset. Columbus is a good fit, for what it’s worth. But if I owned him I’d still be dropping him.

*

Beau Bennett has signed to play in the KHL for Dinamo Minsk. The 26-year-old at one point was the Daniel Sprong of Pittsburgh prospects – sure to make the team, certain to be a scoring-line winger, and in high demand in fantasy hockey leagues. But one injury after another killed his development. The guy couldn’t tie his skates without suffering an injury that sidelined him for two months. Three years of that later and he was no longer the same player.

*

The Ducks made a great depth signing the other day in Andrej Sustr. He’s their No.7 defenseman and I think that’s great, although it does push Jacob Larsson back to the minors to start the campaign. Anaheim’s D: Cam Fowler, Hampus Lindholm, Josh Manson, Marcus Pettersson, Luke Schenn and now Sustr. This also knocks Korbinian Holzer off the roster and pushes Andy Welinski back to the minors too.

*

I spent the weekend in Montreal and on Friday I had some drinks in Boucherville with Mario Prata, who was one of the founders of The Forecaster and who now runs my marketing and other special projects. I had also invited any readers out who were in the area and it was nice to meet one long-time reader who came out. It was a fun evening and I always enjoy getting to know the readers, especially the long-time ones with names that I recognize and can now put a face to.

Later in the night this reader confided that his wife passed away from cancer a couple of weeks ago and it was quite obviously shocking to hear. I won’t mention his name, because it’s deeply personal and I don’t want to overstep. But it was really great talking to you, thank you for coming out, you are a stronger man than I – and cancer really does suck.

If you are able to give to Pancreatic Cancer Canada, as a small gesture to a fellow fantasy hockey comrade, here is a link. I am lucky – my cancer (leukemia) is curable and I’m on the right track. But there are some cancers that are still in need of a cure. This is one. And it moves quickly, completely destroying lives and families in its wake.

*

See you next Monday

*

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    from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-karlsson-strome-maroon-ennis-a-sharks-prospect-and-more-july-9/