#support your goalie

[nottodayjustin]

What people think watching Bruins hockey is like as a fan:

What watching Bruins hockey is actually like as a fan:

Love my boys but they do enjoy watching us bite our nails through one-goal, goalie-heavy games 💁🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️. They gettir done though.

#nhl bruins #boston bruins #bruins #jeremy swayman #linus ullmark #goalie hugs #david pastrnak #matthew poitras #nhl hockey #brad marchand #swaymark doing gods work #i love them your honor #emotional support hockey team

[yes-perwallstedt]

A frankly hilarious sequence (roadrunner deserved it)

#I support goalies crimes #especially ones that involve spearing someone who’s in your paint.

[keepscrollinghun]

#me @ sabs ͡ಥ ͜ ͡ಥ #heads up bb its not your day #next time you'll be the goatkeeper #not fair comparing her to other goalie who hve more play time for club and country #respect for manu to keep supporting her goalmates #goalie who clowns together stick together etc etc #🔴⚪ #MUNARS #sabrina d'angelo #manuela zinsberger

[robindrake13]

TRISTAN JARRY IS SKATING!

#pens lb #pittsburgh penguins #tristan jarry #thats my goalie #jars is my emotional support goalie #please dont rush your recovery though

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

there's dirt on my face from when they buried me alive; i'll show you how to kiss, teach me how to breathe through these soil-laden lungs.

jw60 x reader: what happens at the renaissance faire does (not) stay at the renaissance faire.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's honestly not bad), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), idk a little hair pulling, nothing too crazy (be proud of me!), but you should be warned about the insanity that is me writing slow burn. i know i'm forgetting a lot but all my usual suspects. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: well, favorites, did someone say longest story yet? no, size doesn't matter, but this is getting out of hand. we're over 15k, now. next time i'm just gonna hand you a novel. happy valentine's day from the writer that loves you the most. where to begin? no, i don't know anything about faire culture or even that much about theatre, but i hope you like this anyways, because i absolutely loved writing it. i guess goalies are for the heartbreakers (and jw60 is for people who have been demonized because they're hot). this is for those of us with a little bit of a reputation, a little bit of a history. you deserve someone who thinks you look like a princess when your tits are falling out of your corset. yeah, the pacing's probably a bit off, and i got carried away with his big doe-eyes, but shh! don't tell anyone. oh, and you guys can pry bad kisser jw60 from my cold, dead hands. you know how i used to say i hope you watch the canucks and think, wow, qh43 definitely wants something that's just his? i hope you watch the leafs (when jw60 comes back) and think, wow, sweetheart doesn't know how to kiss! and with that stiff upper neck, too, poor baby! of course, please tell me what you think, because i love it when you do. what else? thank you a million times for all the love. try to spot the baby leafs in the supporting cast. and i'm about halfway done with frat!jh86 (it's fun, you'll love it). thank you for being patient with me. go canucks. until next time, all my love).

the corset was making it really, really hard to breathe. you swore, tonight, when you finally unbound yourself, there would be indentations of the small brass eyelets in your spine, perhaps that your back would slink and melt into the ground, having grown accustomed to the relentless support of the tightly-tied ribbon.

"i don't want to hear it," jenny, your best friend, said, holding a hand up to silence you before you even spoke. "you look unreal. you'll thank me for this, babe, i swear it."

you shook your head at her. "i just don't get why i have to dress like a medieval prostitute," you mused, gesturing to yourself, then her, "and you get be, uh, whatever that is."

jenny threw a hairbrush at you, which you dodged. "i'm a jester. you know this. you know how important this is to me."

you sighed, because you did. jenny had been a regular at the old renaissance faire every summer since she was little. you were about to be seniors in university, but this summer, jenny had insisted that you join her, some kind of last hurrah before you began to walk an intertwined path for what would likely be the last time.

and as much as you didn't really have any interest in jousting, or feudal society, or turkey legs, or whatever it was that people did at these things, you loved jenny enough to be grateful that she wanted to share her special place with you.

you didn't ask why she insisted on being a court jester ever year. maybe that was just her true form.

you walked over to where she sat in front of her mirror, put your hands on her shoulders. "and you're the hottest jester i've ever seen," you said, kissing her on the top of the head. "but i still can't breathe in this."

"that's the point," jenny replied, waving you off.

you had wanted to design your own costume, as costume design was quite literally your passion. you'd designed for every school play and musical since freshman year, wanted to pursue it further after college.

jenny had seemed so excited, though, and it was her day, so you let her take the reigns. the way this get-up fit you, though, the revealing upper-thigh slit, the abundance of cleavage you were sporting, the draping lacey skirts, it all had you hoping this specific faire had a strict no-men policy. you could practically already feel the weight of slimy stares on your exposed leg, the top of your chest. not to mention your face, but that was a bit of a constant, not just today.

you finished your hair and makeup, perfected the wench/heroine/damsel look. you knew yourself to be capable of all but shapeshifting, with your design and artistic abilities, but this old-timey seductress look was a spectacle, that was for sure.

jenny squealed when she saw the finished look. you cracked a smile at her ensemble, a straight-up court jester, down to the bells on her pointed hat, the face paint that matched the color scheme of her costume. "you look great," you told her.

"it's about letting my inner jest shine through," she said, "and that's why i dressed you up. so you have enough sex appeal for the two of us."

you were going to ask why there needed to be any sex appeal at all, but when you finally arrived at the sight of the faire, it became clear that that was simply part of the show.

you weren't even out of place in your revealing get-up, among all of the corsets and pants that looked like tights, not at all, although you had to give jenny credit. out of the many wenches and princesses and knights and pirates and such, your costume was especially lovely.

jenny linked her arm with yours as you passed under the tented entrance. it smelled like charcoal smoke and sugar, like wet leaves and musk.

"welcome to paradise," jenny said, a bright, genuine smile on her round face.

you couldn't help but smile, too. smile at this almost-hilarious display of the modern obsession with the past, of the unrelenting pursuit of entertainment, of the shared desire to be someone, somewhere, sometime else. this faire was just human, in a way that could be sort of somber, but in a way that you read as beautiful.

"where to first?" you asked your friend.

for hours, you let her lead you from place to place, from memory to memory.

"this is where my cousin, brett, bought his crush a leather-bound notebook," jenny said, while you perused a leather goods stand. she winced. "think she had a boyfriend, though."

you took pictures of her with different characters, let her take pictures of you with them, after. you smiled, big and cheesy, next to guys on stilts, jugglers, acrobats.

"you're gonna love this one," jenny said, pulling you into a barn that sold soaps and other handmade goods. you held a candle to your nose, inhaled, closed your eyes at the subtle combination of pine and something slightly floral.

you held it out to your friend. "try this one," you offered, picking up another one to test. you left the barn with two new candles and a hand soap for your apartment at school.

"we have to avoid archery," jenny whispered to you from behind a hand as you waited in line for giant pickles.

"why?" you asked, tilting your head at her serious expression.

"pretty sure my high school ex still runs it," she said, "and not the fun one."

you successfully avoided her ex, tried mead (honestly, how did people ever drink that), had your fortune told.

"my mom used to be the fortune teller at her local faire," jenny told you, a wistful sort of look in her eyes. "it's how she met my dad."

your heart flipped. you were a sucker for a meet-cute. "really?" you asked, "how romantic, jen. we have to do it."

jenny went first, the bell on her hat jingling with each movement. she walked away with a vague promise of new opportunities ahead and a new light to step into.

you smiled when she relayed this information to you, grabbed her hands excitedly. "a new light?" you said, "like a center-stage light? like a lead role?"

jenny's eyes widened. you'd met her freshman year in the theatre department, you a bit of a loner with a knack for a sewing machine and her a talkative actress with a beautiful singing voice.

still, after three years of productions, jenny had never had a lead role. she had a affinity for playing the side kick, the best friend, the assistant, the villain's love interest.

but no one had seen what she was capable of more than you, and you knew this year would be the year. you couldn't wait to watch her give the last bow on opening night, with you clapping from the wings.

now, jenny grinned at you. "this is the year, babe," she agreed. "now you!"

she gave you a gentle push towards the booth. the woman running it was probably somewhere between fifty and sixty. she had the face of a person who took advantage of sunny days, of someone who didn't deny herself simple pleasures, who had spent years laughing.

you felt at ease with her when she took your hand, ran her fingers along the ridges of your palm.

"rough hands, girly," she said, shooting you a lighthearted wink. "you workin' too hard, eh?"

you smiled. "just hard enough, ma'am," you told her, to which she patted your hand lightly in approval.

"you'll keep working," she told you, "but you'll find some new fun, too. sooner than you think."

you thanked her, bid her a good day. you never were one to put much stock into this kind of thing, but you'd take a little more fun any day.

when you told jenny what your fortune had been, she bumped her hip against yours. "hopefully that means a new guy," she mused.

you rolled your eyes. "don't need a guy for fun, do i?"

"'course not," she said, waving you off. "just know you, babe."

"you make it sound like i'm some depraved witch," you teased.

she laughed, pulled you by the arm to the big tent in the center of the faire. "c'mon," she said, "it's time for the joust!"

the joust was the main event of the day, you had known this coming in. it was fun, a spectacle of men on horses. you found yourself fascinated with the way they had dressed the horses up, the funny way all the actors were talking, so distracting that you barely noticed when the joust actually happened.

you still applauded and whistled along with jenny, listened to her tell a story about one joust in which the horse ran in the opposite direction, right out of the tent. you were holding your stomach in gentle laughter as you made to finish your day off at the tavern.

the sky began to melt from a blue to a burnt orange, the air hazy with heat. you could feel a day of standing in your thighs, a day of heeled boots in your calves. the makeup on your face had stayed put, but you could feel the weight of it like a halloween mask. your hair pulled at your scalp, a bit.

"hey, thanks for being such a good sport about this," jenny said as she brought you back a massive jug of beer, setting it down on the table with her own.

"what?" you said, scrunching up your face. "this is awesome, jen. thank you for inviting me."

she rolled her eyes at you, but her smile was obviously pleased. "i know it's corny, and kinda weird, but it's, i don't know." she trailed off, a misty sort of look in her eye.

you took her hand from across the table. you got what she meant. with senior year about to start, everything had a new, foreign sort of gravity to it, like it might never happen again. like you might miss it, if you didn't breathe all of it in. "i get it," you told her. "and where else am i gonna get to dress like this?"

she grinned at you as you took a sip from your jug.

"little jenny jester? is that you?"

you both turned to see an old, old man in magician's robes. jenny squealed. "magic jarod!" she said, before turning to you. "be right back," she whispered, "family friend."

"go 'head," you said, waving her on. you watched her approach the man, give him a big hug. you smiled. it was pretty cool, to know people at an event like this. to have people know you.

you sipped on your beer, quickly realized there was no way you were going to finish it. to pass the time, you people-watched, tried to guess people's relations to each other. you admired people's costumes, made mental notes of unique beading patterns or interesting pleats.

at some point, you were torn from your lulled observance by a polite cough. "is this, uh, where the plus-ones hang out?"

you turned your head to the side slightly to see the owner of that deep, pleasant voice. if you were the type to wolf-whistle, this would have been the time to do it.

something thrummed in your chest as you took in the man who stood in front of you, now. maybe it was the height, maybe the lean, working sort of bulk, maybe the soft-looking, just long enough hair. maybe it was the impossibly blue eyes that you could see even in the dim light of the tavern at dusk. maybe it was the careful, straight posture, the high cheekbones, cut jaw.

or maybe it was the fact that he was dressed in some sort of homemade prince outfit, a loose cream blouse, dark trousers, a dainty tiara-like crown atop his head.

he shifted back on his heels ever-so-slightly under your gaze, like it was something tangible, something that meant something.

in the misty, warm lighting of these low ceilings, among the dirty tables and scent of beer, he appeared deliciously out of place, like some fabled savior, some ancient temptation disguised as an angel.

you gave him a small smile, leaning into the table, just a bit. "did you also come with a jester?" you asked, teasing.

his mouth quirked, a beautiful flush blooming across his cheeks at the sound of your voice. he gave a shake of his head that shook the longer curls around his ears. "'m with the knight," he said, nodding to the person who was currently talking to a woman dressed as a pirate, who appeared very confused. to be fair, the person she was talking to was in full armor.

you gestured to the open spot across the table from you. "keep my friend's spot warm until she gets back?"

he stepped closer until he was just across from you. until you could see how long his lashes were, how big his eyes were, doe-like and boyish. how, ever since you'd first made eye contact with him, his gaze hadn't dipped to your chest even once. which was a feat, even jenny had gotten distracted a couple of times.

he made eye contact like a religion, like it was so, so significant. you took a sip of your beer. "what kind of prince are you?" you asked, leaning your heavy head on a palm.

he gave a low short of chuckle, and the sound was a rumble through your body, shook you up from the inside out. he clasped his broad hands in front of himself. "the boring kind," he said.

you shook your head, laughed. "okay, then, boring prince," you said. "what's your name?"

he licked his lips, and your eyes tracked the movement. your hands felt jittery. "joseph," he said, then asked for yours. you gave it. his kind eyes shimmered at this piece of you. "and what kind of princess are you, sweetheart?"

you laughed, bit your lip to stifle it, as you didn't want him to think you were making fun of him. but, really, in what world was this a princess costume? maybe in an adult film, but not here.

he didn't seem offended, though, just gave you a pouty look dripping with mirth. "what?" he said. you had a feeling he was rarely on the outside of an inside joke.

"it's just funny," you told him, feeling honest and open in the light of his polite gentleness. "that you think 'm dressed as a princess."

"oh, yeah?" he asked. his tiara shifted on his head. "what're you dressed as, then?"

something different wafted through the air between the two of you, something stronger than just the smell of grime and alcohol. something that felt sluggish, sparkly, seductive.

because even now, he didn't look away from your eyes. and that was, somehow, so much more intimate than some desperate once-over, one that would get caught on your chest, your thighs.

"how many princesses do you know who show this much skin?" you asked instead of answering his question. your voice had grown gravelly without your permission.

you had almost dared him to look away from your eyes, to take you in fully, in all of your corset-strapped glory.

but he didn't. which had you almost begging that he would.

"at least one," he said, a lopsided grin slanting across his face. "at least you."

"you know," you started, thought for a second. you sucked on your teeth, and his gaze flickered to your mouth for one single, almost undetectable second. a second that sparked a fire underneath you, had victory horns blaring in the distance. "you're pretty charming for a boring prince, joseph."

that pretty blush grew deeper, made his stark stature appear comfortable, warm. you wanted more of it. you wanted to know it deeply and personally.

when had you shifted so close together? the both of you leaning across the small table like it wasn't even there, breathing in the same air, sharing so politely.

you wanted to make his kind eyes simmer, make his blood run hot. you were close, you knew it, you could feel it in his exhales, in the slight tremor of his hands.

"don't think 'm the charmer between us, sweetheart," he said, low, a secret.

"we can share the title, if you want," you offered. "i'd share with you."

he hummed, shifted on his elbows, restless. "that's kind of you," he said. there was a roughness to his tone that flipped your heart in your chest, wrapped your legs up in coiling heat.

"what can i say?" you said, "you're a good influence on me."

there was a pause, during which you reached a hand up and gently adjusted his tiara so that it sat straight on his head again. you tried not to ruminate on how soft his hair was under your fingertips, pretended not to notice how his gaze draped over your face like a weighted blanket as you focused on the task.

when you withdrew your hand, he was staring at you. it felt like there was no one else in the room. "there," you said.

"straightened me out, did you?" he rasped, those doe eyes drowsy.

your mouth quirked up in a smirk. "oh, joey, i couldn't straighten you out," you said, tilting your head.

"no?" he asked, almost disappointed, not really. "what, sweetheart? 'd you be a bad influence on me?" he teased, twisting your words.

you knew you had him.

you knew you had him, so you forced aside any sensuality from your tone, your expression. "oh, fuck, i think my necklace is stuck in my hair," you said, clutching your hair, wincing like it hurt, watching concern flood his delicate features so gracefully. "know it's a lot to ask, joseph, but could you come to bathroom with me and untangle it, please?"

"of course," he said, practically before you could get it out, letting you take one of his wide, warm hands and tug him to the bathroom. once he was inside, just behind you, you locked the door, dropped your hair, both hands now free.

he appeared confused for a second. "your necklace?" he asked, but he trailed off as you placed a hand on his chest, felt the silken material of his shirt under your palm.

you peered up at him through your lashes, cocked your head. "'d you really fall for that, joey?" you asked, almost shocked.

his firm chest rose and fell under your hand, his exhales coming out shaky. "you're very persuasive," he mustered.

you hummed, relished in the heat that simmered between the two of you, full-bodied and palpable. "'m sorry i lied," you whispered, because you felt compelled to, because you had a feeling it mattered.

"'s okay," he breathed, immediate in his forgiveness, finally moving his hands from his sides to rest gently on your hips. this decision seemed to take a lot out of him, which made you smile. like his desire was heavy, like he just needed somewhere to put it down. like he wanted to touch you, so badly, but needed permission, needed someone to tell him how.

"can i be a bad influence on you for a second?" you asked him, leaned forward into his chest, "please?"

he nodded, leaned back against the door like holding his posture straight was suddenly too much to endure, let out some affirmative sound, halfway between a breath and a whimper.

you kept one hand on his chest, pressed him into the door, snaked your other hand into his hair and rooted it there. his grip on your hips tightened, now hard and strong, his own hips angling up slightly, involuntarily.

"can i kiss you?" you asked, suddenly soft, despite his sudden strength. because you had a feeling it mattered. that he mattered.

"please," he said, basically a whine, which had you fisting his shirt and tugging him down, his lips meeting yours in something like a fairytale, something heated and passionate and glutted with relief.

something heated, in the way you pulled at his hair, how his hand reached around you to pull you closer, right up against him.

something passionate, in the way your knees felt wobbly as swallowed down his sounds, swore you could feel his heartbeat under your palm.

something glutted with relief, in the way his tiara fell from his head entirely, only recognized by the dull clatter of plastic against wood, in the way neither of you pulled away, in the way it only gave you more access to him.

he tasted like mint and something slightly earthy, like peppermint candy and flaky sea salt. you much preferred this, you decided in a moment, to the taste of weed brownies and red bull that distinguished the kisses you had grown accustomed to, at school.

it was something like a fairytale, but not because it was perfect.

because it wasn't perfect, not at all. joseph was actually kind of a bad kisser, you realized. nothing crazy, nothing jarring, but the tell-tale signs of inexperience hung off of him like a too-big jacket.

moments of too-much teeth, unsure hands, a stiff neck, they made you smile against his mouth, because it was obvious he didn't let just anyone into his space like this.

so when his teeth would clash against yours, you'd simply nip at his bottom lip, playful, forgiving.

when his hands would still, uncertain, you'd just place a hand over where one of his rested, held it there, let him know you felt him, still, unwavering.

when his neck would stiffen, you'd rub at the knots with a knuckle, trace your nails over his hairline, feel a shiver erupt under your fingertips.

until he grew more comfortable in his motions, more brave in his want. desire flowed between you both like gasoline, sharp-scented and flammable. he let out an especially uninhibited groan when you brought your hand down to rest on his waistline, but the sound was engulfed by three swift knocks on the door.

"get outta there, guys," some authoritative voice called. "we're not that kind of establishment."

reluctantly, you pulled away from each other, chests heaving. the top of your chest glowed with warmth.

your prince looked delightfully disheveled. the top button of his shirt had slipped undone, his hair beautifully fussed, his cheeks ruddy, lips swollen, eyes glossy.

you knelt down, gently, picked up his plastic tiara, pushed up on your toes to place it on his head again. when you pulled back, there was something more dangerous than pure lust in his gaze.

as much fun as you knew you could have with him, and as much as you wanted to, you knew jenny would be looking for you, ready to go home. you knew joseph had his knight to attend to. knew this perfect moment that you had summoned was all but gone.

you knew the chances of seeing him again were very slim. the thought made your stomach drop, a bit. you exhaled all of your expectations, let them fall to the ground like sediment as you placed a hand on the doorknob.

he still hadn't said a word, almost in a daze. "you're going?" he asked, a husky rasp, and you could have pouted. it felt cruel, to be leaving behind such a pretty boy, one with such kind eyes.

you nodded slowly.

he just gave you a goofy sort of sad smile, tilted his crown to you like the brim of a hat. "until we meet again, trouble," he said, "you've been a lovely bad influence."

you smiled back at him, actually felt yourself blush. "and you've been a deviously good one," you said, "goodbye, joey."

and so you left him, walked away, but you could still feel his lips on yours, could feel the steadiness of his eye contact, the endearing uncertainty of his grip.

when the night ended, you had walked away from the dashing prince, the one you had pulled apart at the seams, but you knew you wouldn't forget him. your not-so-boring prince, who you couldn't even call a hookup, couldn't deem a fling, so you just knew him as your storybook kiss.

and you didn't forget him, even as the last summer days melted into early september, even as school started back up again, as classes came back into full-swing, as senior year and the countdown to graduation began.

you and jenny moved your things from your summer lease to your on-campus apartment, reunited with your friends who had been away for the summer, got all your classes and credits in order.

before you knew it, it was the first theatre department meeting, and you found yourself in the auditorium on a hot tuesday afternoon, slotting into a seat next to jenny and benji, the set designer who you had worked closely with during all your previous productions.

"good to see you, benj," you said, smiling at him.

he grinned, returned the sentiment, but tilted his head back in mock anguish. "another year of madness," he mused, "here we go again."

"our last go-around," you reminded him, elbowing him softly.

jenny made a noise, shook her head. "don't say that to me," she warned, "swear i'll start crying."

after welcoming everyone back, and building an adequate amount of suspense, the theatre director announced the fall play to be romeo and juliet.

"our department hasn't put it on since the eighties," the director exclaimed, "and i have the utmost belief that we will make it every bit the magical tragedy it is."

jenny was squeezing your hand so hard it hurt. juliet had been one of her dream roles since she was in middle school, since she had watched the movie with claire danes.

already, your head was spinning with visions of shakespearean headpieces, draping dresses, flowery imagery, blushy makeup.

beside you, benji groaned. "oh jesus," he lamented, "please, please, no castles."

you and jenny laughed. benji was one of the most talented artists you knew, and he always pulled it together before opening night, but he was a true procrastinator, tended to be a bit of a lazybones. the cast and crew loved him for it. what was an artist without a little bit of torture?

auditions were set for thursday morning, callbacks on friday, the final cast list to be posted on monday.

you didn't need to be present for any of the auditioning process, so, for the next few days, you enjoyed what you knew from experience to be your last moments of free time for the rest of the semester.

you went to office hours for your design professors, as you always did at the beginning of classes, just to introduce yourself, get yourself properly situated for academic success.

after jenny's audition on thursday, you went out, celebrated what she assured you was an astounding monologue delivery. between salted rims and blue-colored cocktails, jenny flipped her phone screen your way to show you the email that confirmed her callback tomorrow.

you squealed, shook her by the shoulders, pure excitement flowing through you. this was the year, you knew it. this was it.

nothing out of the ordinary, you let one of your friends set you up with some guy on saturday night. he was cute enough, kind of scummy, but, up until recently, he would have been exactly your type. you'd been known to go for the guys who looked like they'd been around the block, a little fratty, a little jocky. this guy, across from you, fit the bill, you could give him that.

all throughout college, you hadn't been the type to judge too harshly if a guy was a little too glued to his phone over dinner, if he had the distinct posture of someone who grew up with money, if he spoke shortly to wait staff.

for some reason, though, tonight, you felt itchy at the fact that he had a tough time looking you in the eye for more than a few seconds, felt a practically motherly concern at the way his fingers twitched towards his phone if he went more than a few minutes without looking at it.

for some reason, tonight, more so than nights before, the memory of a certain stiff-spined prince, blushing pink and thinking you were a princess, even dressed your sluttiest, danced across your mind like a waltz.

you sort of hated how his memory had kind of ruined what, a few months ago, would have been a satisfying hook-up, resented how someone you were never going to see again was dictating, to any degree, who you would go home with, but, regardless, you gave this guy across from you a terrible excuse for your need to leave, set a fiver on the table to cover your drink, hurried out the door and home.

jenny was sprawled out on her bed when you opened the door, watching some trashy reality dating show for the millionth time.

"watching it again isn't gonna make kaitlyn make the right choice," you reminded her as you set your bag down, recognizing the season from a single line of dialogue.

jenny groaned. "i can dream," she said, then fixed her eyes on you. "you look hot," she observed, "what are you doing here?"

you smiled as you began to take your makeup off. "went out with that guy chase set me up with," you explained, then sighed.

"what, did he lose his eyeballs on the way to the bar?"

you laughed, shook your head at jenny's characteristically odd wording. "nope," you said, "eyeballs intact. i just wasn't into it, i guess."

"fair enough," jenny agreed.

"it was so weird, though," you continued, "like, he was exactly what i usually go for."

"so he was a grimy slacker with a good face who has a concerning obsession with his mom?"

you gasped, feigned offense. "how dare you?" you asked, to which she giggled. "that was only twice!"

jenny rubbed at her neck. "for real though," she pushed, "what do you think is different?"

you bit your lip, thought for a moment, looked down at the cotton pad in your hand, now smudged with clumps of mascara and smears of blush. you swallowed. for some reason the sight made you slightly nauseous, some reminder of guilt or dirtiness or low self-esteem, or something like that, something you didn't really want to get into.

"you remember when you took me to the faire?" you said, still not looking at jenny.

"'course."

you exhaled. "well, when you were talking to that magician guy, i met this guy-"

jenny bolted upright from her horizontal position. "wait," she cut you off, excitement making her tone vibrate. "you mean to tell me that you met a guy at my faire, and i'm just hearing about it now?"

"sorry," you conceded, looking up to meet her eye.

"don't be," she waved you off, hugged her pillow to her chest. "i knew your costume would work!"

you rolled your eyes at her, pulled one of your knees up to your chest.

"so?" she asked, urging you on with her eyes. "tell me about him."

"he was just so fucking polite," you told her. "and so pretty. and when i made out with him in the bathroom it was like he didn't know how to kiss me, but he wanted to be good at it. so bad. like he was almost embarrassed about it." you sighed. "i don't even know why 'm still thinking about him," you told her, and it was true, sort of.

"i do," jenny told you, cracked a smile when you shot her a look. "i know everything."

"enlighten me, all-knowing jester," you said, gesturing for her to elaborate.

"you always take the scumbags, babe," she told you, "and they're fun, sure, but now you've had a taste of the teacher's pet, mom's favorite, goes to church on sunday. once you go 'good guy,' you never go back."

"i don't know," you said, skeptical, "i feel like i'm putting too much stock into this. feel like he probably doesn't even remember me."

jenny blew out a breath. "yeah right," she said, "let me tell you something."

"please."

"as much as you're feeling hooked on the good guy, right now," she said, "i can guarantee he's plagued at night by his glimpse of the dark side."

you hummed, smiled. "and i'm the dark side, in this scenario?"

"babe," jenny said, "you're not a 'bad person,' but you're a 'bad girl.'"

you pouted, but you knew what she meant. knew that you were kind, a good listener, a good friend, that you were trustworthy and patient and generous, but also that you weren't above the simple pleasures. that you weren't one to turn down a free drink, were always down to get your hands (and reputation) a little dirty, and until recently, that you were a one-night-stand frequent.

you also knew that people liked to label you as the bad girl simply because of the way you looked, the way you flirted, the way you dressed.

"whatever," you said, shrugging, acting like it didn't matter, wanting to change the subject, knowing just how to do it. "monday's the big day, right?"

jenny gushed about her callback, how that juliet role was practically hers, how she didn't want to jinx it. you told her the truth, that you couldn't imagine anyone else for the role, that they'd have to be stupid not to cast her.

and they proved to be not stupid, monday morning, when the cast list was emailed out to the department. on you way between classes, you received a face-time call from jenny before you even finished reading the full list.

"we did it!" jenny screamed as her jubilant face filled up your screen.

you couldn't help but let your face split into a grin at her excitement. "i told you," you said, "i told you! this is your year, jen. you deserve this so much." you almost felt misty-eyed. "'m so proud of you."

she looked like she actually was crying, now. "stop, babe, or you're gonna get me going," she warned. "fuck, i can't believe it. a lead role! i can't wait to wear your designs center stage!"

"i can't wait, too," you said, and you meant it.

"i know you have class, i'll let you go," she said, "see you at the meeting at four. okay, bye." she gave one last look. "our year!" she squealed as she hung up, leaving you laughing as you walked into class.

finally, it was time for the all-department meeting, your last commitment of the day, when everyone involved in the production met, now that you all knew the cast, from the leads to the directors to the stage managers to the last freshman painting sets under benji's direction.

"morrison's a night. mare," was the first thing that benji said to you as you slid into the seat next to him.

you hummed. "who's morrison?"

"one of my freshman," he explained. "his girlfriend's in the cast, said he wants to 'keep an eye on her,' whatever that means."

you scrunched up your nose. "gross," you said.

"and he sucks at everything," benji said. "'m half tempted to tell him to just stand in the corner and not touch anything."

you laughed as the director clapped his hands on the stage to get everyone's attention, launched into the typical congratulations speech. you felt jenny sit to your right with a deep breath.

"little late, eh, jen?" benji whispered.

"can it, benny," she replied, to which benji scowled. he hated when she called him that.

"and now, we'll do a full introduction," the director was saying, "from the back of the house all the way to the front. i can not emphasize enough how important it is that we, here in the theatre, trust and love everyone around us."

"i love you so much," you whispered to benji, who smirked.

"'m not interested, babe, but so flattered," was his response.

"why don't we start with our leads? jennifer and carlos, please stand and introduce yourselves."

"yeah, jennifer," you whispered, giggling into your hand. benji shook next to you.

jenny smacked you on the shoulder as carlos went. your production's romeo was a senior, too, had been in the department as long as you and your friends. you were a little surprised he had gotten the role, if you were honest, had always thought his acted grief came across as a bit shallow.

then jenny went, standing up, waving to everyone. when she was done with her introduction, no one clapped louder than you and benji, even whistling, a sound that echoed through the space.

the rest of the cast went, then all the directors and behind the scenes people. eventually, benji and his team went, followed by the costume crew.

"hi, everyone," you said, standing up, giving them all your name. "i'm the head costumer designer, and i can't wait to help all of you look like the best versions of yourselves and characters." you had used that line since sophomore year.

more people followed, eventually even the ushers went, followed by the orchestra and band.

you were friends with some of the music kids, so you tried to pay closer attention.

"'sup guys, 'm matt, on percussion," a stocky guy said, then gestured to the guy next to him. you laughed when you heard him grunt, "go, dude."

"yeah, i'm bobby," his friend, the blonde one, said, giving an awkward wave, "i, uh, play guitar."

"jesus, how does he look hotter than last spring?" benji said, putting his head in his hands, referring to the crush he had harbored on the department's guitarist for two years. you rubbed his shoulder in comfort, but a voice you recognized made your gaze snap back.

"hello, everyone, my name is joseph, i'm your new pianist, and i'm so excited to get to know you all."

the next person went to speak, but you just blinked, swallowed your disbelief down like a too-big pill.

it couldn't be him, but it was. there stood your boring prince, in a button down and khakis, this time, no tiara to be found. it made you wonder if he still had it, somewhere, maybe his bedroom, if his gaze would catch on it sometimes and he would think of you. if it would make him blush.

there he stood, hair just a bit longer, but the rest all the same as the dream boy who lived in your memory. so pretty, his words so naturally kind, you barely even noticed that he mentioned he would be the pianist for the production, too distracted by the fact that he was here, in front of you, right now.

hands on your waist, his soft groans muffled against your lips, wide doe eyes looking at you like he couldn't bear to look away, it all flashed across your mind, made you stiffen, your exhale come out short.

"you okay?" jenny whispered to you.

"that's him," you said.

"who?" her brow was furrowed, confused.

"that's him," you repeated. "the guy from the faire."

benji turned to you. "no way you let her drag you to that geek fest," he said, but you both ignored him, jenny's eyes going wide.

"that's your good guy?" she clarified. "the piano man is the bad kisser?"

"lower your voice," you warned, your voice low, serious.

benji leaned in. "you kissed bambi, over there?"

"yes, benny, keep up," jenny said, barely sparing him a look. "babe, you need to talk to him. this is fate." she snapped her fingers. "this is literally what the fortune teller was talking about, work and fun and all that."

you bit your lip, looked towards joseph again. your heart stuttered in your chest when you found him to be already looking at you. his lips quirked up in a shy smile as his fingers fluttered in a gentle wave.

you let a smile drape across your face at his recognition, his cordiality, then winked at him.

he looked at his feet, shifted lightly on his feet. you swore you could see his nervous blush from here. it made you feel like you were coated in glitter.

finally, the meeting ended with the promise of an email containing a review of all the information discussed. as everyone stood up and made for the exits, jenny gently shoved towards the front, where joseph was talking with his friends. she grabbed the elbow of benji and walked in the other direction as he muttered something about always being the last to know things.

you walked down the auditorium aisle, joseph's eyes lifting to meet yours as you got close. his smile grew boyish and bashful as he registered your approach, stepped out of his lean against the stage, brushed his palms against his pants.

there was a pause that you noted, because what exactly could you say, here? what exactly could you do?

could you say hey, matt and bobby, i don't know how you know joseph, but i made out with him in the bathroom of a ren faire tavern and haven't stopped thinking about him since?

probably not.

instead, you just smiled, asked matt and bobby how their summers were. they had been in the theatre band since sophomore year, so you were familiar with them, at least enough to know what place matt was talking about when he mentioned his vacation home and who bobby was referring to when he mentioned his buddies on the team (the both of them were on the club hockey team at school).

matt clapped a heavy hand on joseph's shoulder. "woller's on the team with us," he explained, "convinced him to fill the piano void we had after the seniors graduated."

you hummed, turned your gaze back to joseph, relished in the endearing awkwardness you found. "joey and i have met, actually," you said.

bobby shrugged. "you go to the same school, not all that surprising."

it was sort of funny, now that you thought of it, that in three years, you hadn't crossed paths with joseph one time. not once did he catch your attention in the dining hall, not once did he drop a pen in your vicinity during a lecture, never did he accidentally bump into you between classes.

you'd gone three years without seeing those blue eyes, and since that chance encounter, you hadn't stopped thinking about them.

matt seemed to be more perceptive than bobby, though, giving a slight nod in understanding. "we'll leave you to catch up, then," he said, grabbing his backpack, tossing bobby his. "see you 'round, guys."

then the auditorium was empty, except for you and joseph. like a universe that existed only for the two of you. the high ceilings seemed barely suitable to fit the mass of emotion you felt.

you kept a safe step's distance. "hi, joey," you said, softer than you meant.

his eyes shimmered at your voice, at the nickname. "hi, trouble," he said, in that tone that felt like winter sunlight, "how are you?"

of course he would ask that, hands shoved into his pockets, of course he would ask that and really mean it, really care.

"'m good," you said. "really good, now. didn't know 'f i'd see you again."

he hummed, and it felt like power, to know that you both were thinking about the last time, to know for certain he was thinking of you, pushing him up against a door.

"how are you?" you reciprocated, leaning back on your heels.

he thought for a moment, the pause fat with nostalgia, ripe with promise. "pretty nervous, if 'm honest," he told you, looked down.

you couldn't hide your delight. "like you honest," you told him, and his blush deepened. he wanted to meet your gaze, so badly, you could tell, but it was almost like he didn't trust himself to, like he might get caught there forever.

he gave a breathy sort of laugh. it made your head spin.

you stepped closer to him, which tore his eyes up to yours. his chest heaved in what might have been a relieved sigh. "do your friends know?" you asked, and your voice had grown husky, softer, only for him.

he shook his head, his eyes welling up with genuine truth, like he would never. "no," he said.

"really?" you asked, cocked your head. "don't kiss and tell, joey?"

his ears bloomed pink, like the word kiss was some kind of curse, like all of it was too much to hear aloud. it had you almost regretting saying it. almost.

when he spoke, his voice cracked, slightly. "no, uh, can't say i do, sweetheart." he said.

you gave him a smile that curled with smokiness. "did you just wanna keep it to yourself, then?" you asked, let your gaze grow hooded. "maybe keep me to yourself?"

his breathing was heavier, and he was so close, and all you wanted to do was kiss him again, knead your knuckles into that stiff neck, feel him against you, but you didn't.

you didn't and then he spoke again. it was breathy, wavering. "think, maybe, uh, we should," he started, "think we should just be, uh, friends, sweetheart."

and you could have been disappointed, offended, even, but you weren't. you just took a small step back, smiled at him gently. let his words settle. "do you, joey?"

he gave a slight nod. "yeah, um, just 'cause of the show, and we'll be working closely, and such," he said. "for the sake of the show." something permissive and almost regretful, something practically compunctious flooded his bright, blue eyes, the way oil sullies a warm ocean gulf.

"thank god we have a pianist so dedicated to the production, then," you said, eyes wide, watched him blush further. "we should probably exchange numbers, then," you continued, "so we can do things that friends do."

he cleared his throat, nodded, entered his information into the phone you offered him. "it'll be good," he said, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

"it'll be so, so good," you amended, retreating, now walking towards the exit. "i promise, joey, 'll make it so good, for you."

for the second time, you left him, blushing, disheveled, this time with much more hope in your heart.

"so, did you talk to him?" jenny asked you over lunch the next day.

"and can you get him to talk to bobby about me?" benji asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"yes, and no," you said, making benji pout.

jenny stamped her feet under the table in fast succession. "so, what did you say? what did he say?"

you shrugged. "he said we should be just friends." it even sounded funny coming out of your mouth.

benji winced. "ouch," he said, blowing out a breath.

"i don't get it," jenny said, appearing genuinely confused.

"said it was for the good of the production, or something," you said.

"what a load of bullshit," jenny said, now almost angry.

you shrugged again.

"why aren't you upset?" benji asked, skeptical. "in all the time i've known you, you haven't been friendzoned once. it can't feel good to be slummin' it with the rest of us."

you laughed. "i'm not upset because i know he doesn't want to be friends, he just thinks it's the right thing to do."

"what's the difference?" jenny said, "regardless, he set his terms."

"and i'll be respectful of them," you said, and you meant it. you were not one to break hard-set boundaries, to act in a forceful or disrespectful way. "i'm a great friend."

benji narrowed his eyes. "so, you're just gonna be totally platonic with this guy?"

you nodded, leaned back in your seat.

"just friends with the only guy i've ever seen you think twice about?" jenny clarified.

"exactly," you reiterated. "just friends, nothing more." your mouth quirked. "until he inevitably decides otherwise."

benji rolled his eyes. "of course," he said, almost bitter. "the elusive long game."

"won't be that long," you corrected.

"how can you be so sure?"

you smiled at the memory. "his eyes," you said, honestly, almost guiltily. "bit of a dead giveaway."

joseph had declared you just friends, so that's what you would be, for the time being. you trusted he would come to his own conclusions as time passed, so you figured there really wasn't any reason to rush things. there were much worse things than being friends with a very kind person.

so you texted him the next morning, sent him a hey :) it's your favorite new friend, followed by your name, followed by a what're you doing later?

and of course he was a prompt responder, getting back to you in a matter of minutes. a Good Morning, Sweetheart, followed by a We have practice until 6:30, but I'm free after that. What did you have in mind?

his texts read a bit awkward and stiff, in all of their grammatical correctness, but it made you sigh, because what was he, if not a little awkward and stiff?

wanna study at my place? you sent, followed by i could walk you back from practice.

I'd like that. was his response, followed by Just to clarify, you mean actually study, right? That wasn't an innuendo?

now he had you smiling at your phone. get your head outta the gutter joey you texted, followed by just to study, followed by pinkie promise.

you could picture his blush as if you wear standing in front of him.

See you at 6:30, Trouble, was his last response.

you sort of thought it was funny that he called you that, and maybe it should have been a little offensive, because maybe you were tired of being associated with that kind of negativity. maybe you were tired of coming with a warning label, tired of feeling like all anyone saw when they looked at you was a pretty face wrapped up in red flags.

what was funnier, you supposed, was that you didn't mind it when he called you that. you didn't mind it because there was something you liked about being trouble to him, in particular. you liked being his sweetheart, probably more than you would admit to yourself, but there was something addictive about being important enough, singular enough, powerful enough to be deemed trouble by a person like him.

a person who just oozed with goodness, with righteousness, without any of the arrogance so typically marring the quality, a person whose smile leaked sunshine, who was distinct in their genuineness, whose honesty and kindness you swore you could taste, the way marshmallow fluff sticks to your teeth, grainy and sweet.

maybe you didn't love being trouble, but perhaps you didn't mind being his trouble.

that was the sentiment at the forefront of your mind as you entered the ice rink that the club team practiced at, a few minutes early, let the chillier air cool your face.

the last of the team was on the ice, just a few bodies picking up pucks and cones. you scanned the ice, didn't spot his distinct profile, so you just took a seat in the bleachers, enjoyed the rare moment of quiet, breathing in and out.

a quiet thudding noise drew your attention to the glass, where matt and bobby were waving you down. you hopped down from the bleachers while bobby opened the door to the ice, which made a heavy clanging sound.

"hey, guys," you said, now standing in front of them.

"you missed the fun part," bobby said. you had to crane your neck to look at them. they were taller in skates, a little more intimidating in full hockey pads than when they were goofing off in the pit of the theatre.

you laughed good-naturedly. "not here to watch you trick pucks off the crossbar," you said.

matt laughed. "why are you here, then?" he said.

you didn't quite answer, sucked on your teeth for a second. "where's joey?" you asked, instead.

bobby rolled his eyes.

matt just nodded towards the other end of the ice. "i'll tell him you're here," he said, skated away.

your eyes followed him, then widened. "he's a goalie?" you asked bobby. you tracked the big number sixty on the back of the jersey, the slow, deliberate skating motions, the posture you recognized.

"yeah, why?" bobby asked.

"i don't know," you said, "forgot that was even a position."

"it's the position for freaks," he clarified, leaning against the boards.

you scrunched up your face. but, you supposed, you had never met anyone quite like joseph. perhaps that made him a freak, to some degree.

matt skated back over and told bobby they had to get off the ice for the zamboni, telling you that joseph said he'd meet you by the exit.

you hadn't been waiting for five minutes before the three of them emerged from the locker room, holding water bottles and backpacks. your eyes, however, snagged on joseph like a thread on a nail, didn't leave. he looked too pretty like this, damp hair curling at the ends, face flushed with exertion and cold, his body visibly tired but also more relaxed than you'd seen him.

your throat went dry when he smiled at you. "hey, sweetheart," he said, easy.

"hi," you responded, clasped your hands behind your back, scared, if left to their own devices, they'd reach up and push that rogue curl from his forehead.

"where're you guys headed?" matt asked you as you pushed the doors open into the dusky night.

"mine," you said, not thinking anything of it, because it was the truth, because there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

then you saw the blush that tinted joseph's nose, dainty, but there. maybe it had sounded a little suggestive, but you had nothing to apologize for, and his reaction sort of hurt your feelings, for some reason.

you both said goodbye to matt and bobby, who were headed off to the dining hall, and continued on the walk to your apartment. "are you embarrassed?" you asked, not harshly, just truthfully. because it mattered.

it mattered if he thought you were the kind of person it was embarrassing to go home with. it mattered if he thought there was some kind of reputation with you that would become his through association.

it mattered if he thought you were an embarrassing kind of trouble, instead of a beautiful kind.

he didn't answer for a second, exhaled, and you squinted. "are you embarrassed of me?" you amended.

his gaze shot to yours, eyes flooded with concern, genuine worry. "what? no," he promised, "no, sweetheart, of course not of you."

and this made you feel better, a little. "what of, then?" you asked, in step besides his large frame.

a pause settled in the space between his hip and your waist, side by side, stride by stride.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "it's just that," he started, took a breath, then started again. "i know it must seem weird to you, how flustered i get." you wanted to cut him off, correct him, but mostly you wanted him to continue. "'m not as comfortable as you, as confident."

"it's not weird," you promised, "i like how flustered you get. i like your blush." your fingers twitched. "i can try to dial it back, if it'd make you feel better. i can try to be, i don't know, less-"

he did cut you off, then. "no," he said, his voice breaking, only a bit. "don't, uh, change." he cleared his throat, squeezed his plastic water bottle, making it crinkle. "please."

you stared at the side of his face, for a second, any words dying in your throat. "really? aren't you scared 'll bring you over to the dark side, joey?" you said it like a joke, but it wasn't, not really. "aren't you scared i'll turn you bad?"

he looked at you, then, big blue eyes drunk with truth. "'m not scared of you, trouble," was all he said, and that was that.

you showed him up to your apartment, gave him a short tour.

"where do you usually do homework?" he asked, gentle.

"bedroom floor," you said, almost sheepish. "floor's the best place for critical thinking."

he laughed, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. "lead the way, then," he said.

so you sat with him, on the floor of your bedroom, for a couple hours, until the night made time feel viscous and thick, until your throat was rough from lack of use, until your eyelids felt heavy.

hours of you, doing physics problem sets, and him, finishing history readings. hours of work that were made comfortable, sleepy, by the shared presence of each other, of exhales and warmth and shifting limbs.

hours of work cut with questions about his day, about your classes, about him playing the piano, about your friendship with jenny, about his with bobby and matt, about your mom and his siblings and your design dreams and his uncertain ones.

before long it was past midnight, and you felt your eyes lingering too long on his full mouth, and his gaze felt too honey-sweet on your face. before long, it was time for him to go, before the late hour made you want to see just how far you could push just friends.

out of respect, though, and because you cared about him, at some point, you cleared your throat.

"i should probably go to sleep, soon," you said, a rasp to your voice.

he made to grab his things, pushed his massive body up from your floor. "me too," he said. "'s getting late."

he swung his backpack onto his shoulder and you walked him to the door. he opened it, turned back around, leaned against the frame, facing you.

he looked down at you, and your heart surged, your mind clouded with deja vu. "do you still have your tiara?" you asked, nodding up to his head.

his lips split into a smile as he gave a rough, low laugh. "yeah, sweetheart," he said, his eyes growing foggy with memory. "that's, uh, a keeper."

and it probably wasn't how he meant it, but it almost felt like he was saying you were a keeper, and no one had ever thought that before. you squeezed your hand into a fist. "remember when you said you were a boring prince?"

he nodded.

it took every inch of your discipline not to touch him, hug him, tug him down by his shirt and kiss him dumb. "you're not boring, joey," you said.

he swallowed, his eyes welling up with meaning. "how can you be so sure?" he asked, soft.

"you can't be," you explained, "or i would've been able to stop thinking about you."

his hooded gaze caught on your lips, and it would have been so easy to push up on your toes, slot your mouth against his, but you didn't.

his simmering eyes met yours again. "goodnight, sweetheart," he breathed.

"goodnight," you said, your smile fluttery, shutting the door gently behind him.

and so began the most confusing friendship of your life.

the semester progressed quickly, the pace constantly being pushed by your busy schedule. your days seemed to pass in a blink, filled by classes and exams and rehearsals and theatre commitments, fittings and design meetings and movie nights with jenny, lunches with benji.

jenny's juliet grew more and more compelling, benji grew more and more annoyed with his set crew.

the more time passed, the more frequently you were making plans with joseph, until he just became a part of your schedule. two days a week, you would study at your place, a different two days, you would go to his, instead.

he lived with some guys from the team, so the kitchen was a bit messy, and the decor was seriously lacking, but his room was spotlessly clean, actually sort of comfortable, so you didn't mind. he had a desk, but you had convinced him of the magic of the floor, so the floors of your respective bedrooms had become something of a safe place, a tall, tall tower, away from everything else, away from reality.

you came to find that there was absolutely nothing more comfortable than the warm silence that settled between the two of you like a glittery fog when you'd both get into a working groove, perhaps not talking for stretches of time, but the presence of each other easy enough to fall asleep in.

here and there, one of you would slice through the silence like a warm knife through salted butter, asking about something that had happened that morning, or practice, or rehearsal, or something.

he'd ask how your exam went, and his gaze would melt a bit when you'd gush about how you knew you nailed it.

"that's great, sweetheart," he'd say, his posture more relaxed in the nighttime drowsiness. "'m so proud of you."

maybe you'd ask how the game last weekend went, and his nose would twitch, just a bit.

he'd shrug, and the muscles in his neck would clench, and you'd want nothing more than to ease the tension there with your fingers. "fine," he'd say. "could've been better."

and you'd roll your eyes. "you always think you could've been better," you'd say, and it would be true. you had come to understand that he was a real perfectionist when it came to hockey.

he'd smile, lopsided, and your stomach would flip. "'cause i always could be," he'd say, and it would make you frown.

"i don't know," you'd say, the words coming out slow, like molten chocolate. you'd meet his lazy gaze. "don't think it gets much better than you."

nights of studying and walking him back from practice, days during which, when you were lucky, you could sneak a coffee break with him, began to feel normal, but not in the sense that you didn't feel especially grateful every time you saw him. you couldn't imagine an instance that his eyes wouldn't make your knees wobble, that his voice wouldn't make your heart jolt, a time when making him blush wouldn't feel like a triumph, when making him laugh wouldn't pull the most genuine smile from your own mouth.

you felt as if he'd been an abrupt reset to your whole system, ever since that dusky summer kiss against a door, like a startling ice bath to your entire being. for him, though, you didn't imagine your presence to be as shocking, instead more gradual, like your attention, your thinly-veiled attraction was like ivy, slowly overtaking an old brick building.

miraculously, for weeks and weeks, you kept your hands to yourself. sure, there was the occasional hug goodbye, which typically left you speechless, the more frequent touch of a hand here and there, over a glass of water or across a spread of notebooks. once, and only once, there was a firm arm around your waist, the time when you slipped while walking next to him, his quick reflexes meaning his arm shot out to wrap around you, pulling you back upright in a single motion.

you tried your best not to lean into his embrace, mentally applauded yourself for a job well done. "thanks for that," you said, clearing your throat.

he didn't let go of you immediately though, his hand lingering on your waist for a split second, his gaze shadowy, like in a trance.

"joey," you said, and it came out like a plea, because he couldn't touch you, not like this. it wasn't fair, and you were being so good. "don't do this to me."

that snapped him out of his daze, as he gently retracted his arm, settled it unnaturally next to his side, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, now that his palm had laid flat against your hip. what do you do with something sacred? "sorry, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was rough.

for the first time, though, you realized, with narrowing eyes, you got the sense that he was lying to you. that he wasn't actually sorry, not at all.

then there was the time that he showed up at your place unannounced, on a day when you hadn't made plans. "coming," you'd yelled out in response to a knock, fresh out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around you. you opened the door, almost yelped when you saw him in the frame, looking straight out of a fairytale with his hair in his face.

of course, he blushed, looked down when he registered your appearance, clicked his tongue as you held your towel tighter around you. "d'you, uh," he said, "do you always answer the door like this?"

you could have laughed at his gentle humor, despite him being so obviously flustered. "only for you, joey," you said, winking at him, making him go red, which made your smile grow as you swung the door open wider, wordlessly inviting him inside. "kidding. one sec, let me get dressed."

eventually, matt and bobby got used to your presence in their kitchen, in the bleachers of the rink. you met their fourth roommate, a tall, lanky defenseman you mistakenly called simon the first time you met him.

"not si-mon," he corrected, "si-mone."

"like the girl's name," bobby said, trying to help, to which simon whacked him on the back of the head.

"aren't athletes supposed to eat healthy?" you asked one time, when you were steeping one of the tea bags you had begun to keep at joseph's place, just for convenience's sake. you had walked in on matt, bobby, and simon making ice cream sundaes.

matt just waved you off. "it's different for club," he said.

bobby scowled. "last i checked, you don't pay rent here," he said, "no rent, no opinion."

"yeah," simon said, his accent slight as he put the ice cream carton back into the freezer. "why don't you go back to your own house?"

"because i'm studying," you said, to which you were on the receiving end of a chorus of groans.

"swear you guys are practically married," matt said. "remember when i walked in on you putting that gray shit on his face?"

you rolled your eyes. "that was a face mask, and it's good for your pores."

"he has you over here more in a week than my girl has been here in a month," simon continued.

you scoffed. "maybe you should fix that, then," you told him. "nothing to do with me. me and your roommate are just-"

"don't finish that sentence," bobby said, "for my sanity, don't do it."

"what's going on out here?" came that deep voice from behind you.

"nothing," simon said, "your girl called us athletes, though."

simon's wording had you almost sad, about to correct him, but something in you stopped. because was it really all that much of a lie? joseph didn't correct him, either, which had to count for something. had to mean something.

"bein' nice, trouble?" joseph asked, a lazy smile on his face.

"you know me," you said, to which his eyes shimmered. because he did, because it was true.

you could almost hear bobby's eye roll. "we'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow," he said on his way back to his room.

as opening night grew impossibly close, your path began to cross with joseph's more in the theatre, too.

as you'd get final measurements in, make some last minute adjustments to skirt lengths and blouse widths, you'd hear that telltale melody from the pit, so smooth it'd put a smile on your face.

once, you were doing a final check of jenny's costume, the last one she would wear before curtain close, and the music began.

jenny's grin grew teasing. "such a sap, now," she said.

"don't," you warned, "i'm the one with all the pins."

she put her hands up in surrender. "not a bad thing," she said, "it's really cute, actually. just can't believe you've lasted this long."

you sighed. "that makes the two of us."

benji popped in from the wing. "so proud of you," he said, "but one of you needs to do something. it's actually painful."

it was sort of crazy, you realized, to be anything but completely grateful and satisfied with being one of joseph's closest friends. it was a privilege, you knew that. it just kind of made you wish you'd never kissed him in the first place, that you didn't know what he felt like, sounded like, tasted like. you could be so completely content if you didn't know that.

"dude, you sound like a dying cat." you recognized matt's voice, assumed he was talking to bobby. "opening night's in two days."

you could picture bobby's disinterested shrug.

benji took this opportunity to walk all the way out onto the stage, clear his throat. "i think you sound great, bobby," he said.

there was a pause. "uh, thanks, man," was the short reply. "what was your name again?"

you winced. jenny shuttered. "brutal," she whispered.

"bob, you know benji," joseph said from the piano bench, ever the polite diplomat. "he paints all the sets."

bobby looked around, took in the castles and gardens that benji had worked so hard on. "you did these?" he asked. benji nodded. "pretty sick, dude," he said, impressed.

jenny put a hand over her heart. "oh, benji, you're so talented and handsome," she said, loudly, drawing everyone's attention.

benji rolled his eyes. "oh, fuck off, jen."

you caught joseph's gaze across the space, him at the piano, you bent down, fussing with jenny's hem.

hi, he mouthed, and your heart stirred.

hi, you mouthed back.

because of the packed and overlapping theatre schedule, you became closely acquainted with the way joseph played the piano, nothing like matt's violent percussion or bobby's novice-at-best guitar abilities. he played with a gentle intensity, a passionate perfectionism, which you supposed was just the way that he was.

you swore you could watch him get caught up in the notes, could follow the deft movements of his hands for hours and not get bored, because he wouldn't get bored.

finally, it was the day before opening night, and after completing the whole last minute checklist as well as all the department's traditions and superstitions, you went back to your workspace for just a second to triple check everything. you wanted everything to go smoothly tomorrow, no surprises. a few minutes into your last checks, though, there was a soft knock on your open door.

you looked up to find a tired pair of big blue eyes. "what're you doing here?" you asked, gentle. "look like you're about to fall asleep, joey."

he shook his head. "wide awake," he said, and he sounded it. "know it's a late night, but it's still thursday. i understand if you wanted to skip tonight, but-"

you waved him off, lugged your bag onto your shoulder. "yeah, right," you said. "not gettin' rid of me that easy."

he smiled, held the door open for you as you passed him, as you both began the walk to his place. the air was chilly, refreshing, but you shivered, nonetheless.

"cold?" he asked, and you nodded, to which he started to unbutton his shirt.

"what're you doing?" you said, and you couldn't help the shocked sort of tone your voice had taken on.

he gave a light laugh, handed you his button down, revealing a t-shirt underneath. he looked at you, almost guiltily, eyes a bit dark, as you shrugged your bag off, put his shirt on, then your backpack. "'m always prepared," he said.

"thank you," you said, and it looked like the words warmed him from the inside out. you figured, maybe, you'd push your luck. "god forbid you show a little skin."

the silence rumbled. it was dark, but it was as if you could feel the heat of his blush, felt it on your own face like a creamy foundation. "easy, trouble," he said, and it was quiet, hoarse.

soon enough he was holding the door of his apartment open, as he had so many times before, then he was leading you into his bedroom, but it felt so different, for some reason, so much heavier, harder, more heated.

you took your spot on the floor, spread out your notes, planning to get a little bit of studying done, as you knew you wouldn't finish any schoolwork tomorrow, with all the running around you were going to be doing. he took his spot across from you, maybe a little bit closer, which you pretended not to notice.

time passed as it usually did, in this situation, at this hour, in his company.

but then you'd catch him looking at you, feel it like a blistering singe, would look up to meet his gaze, only to find it back down on his homework, like the movement of your head was enough to scare him back into routine.

and then it happened again, and he wasn't even looking at your face, this time, he was staring at your middle, your body, which he never did, and you wanted to throw something at him, tell him to stop, please, because you couldn't handle it. his longing was too much to take, the way it was seeping through the walls like a aphrodisiac. if it was a challenge to keep your hands to yourself under normal circumstances, it was almost impossible, now, when he was hiding his want so poorly, almost like he wasn't trying to hide it at all.

the third time it happened, you cleared your throat. it was making you sort of nervous, and it was definitely getting your hopes up. "you starin' at me, joey?" you asked, not accusatory.

"sorry," he said, immediately, didn't meet your eyes.

you tilted your head. "that's the second time you've done that," you observed.

he looked up, at that. "what?"

"that's the second time you've lied to me about being sorry."

he swallowed, and your eyes tracked the motion. his flush was that of guilt, maybe a dull sort of shame.

"why're you embarrassed?" you asked, shifting a bit closer to him. "you're allowed to look at me, you know."

his blue eyes swam with promise as he let out what looked like a soft sigh of relief. "i am?" he asked.

you nodded, felt a little mean. maybe it was the fact that it had been months since his lips had been on yours, and the memory still sparked a fire inside of you. maybe it was the fact that you'd been so patient, maybe it was that you had a feeling the sight of you in his button-down, a little tight in the chest and by the hips, was making his throat dry. "you're allowed, joey, because we're such good friends."

something like a grunt rumbled in his throat, involuntary, and you squinted at him. you were right in front of him, now, sitting on your heels, watching his indecision weigh on him like a boulder between his shoulder blades.

"what?" you asked, the picture of innocence. "what's wrong?"

"nothing, sweetheart," he said, breathy, "nothing's wrong, it's just that-"

"what?" you pushed.

he didn't continue, just swallowed around his words, rested his elbows on his bent knees, notebooks strewn to the side.

you gave a little pout, leaned forward, so close, now, you could see the faint gold in the blue of his eyes. "don't like being my friend, joey?"

"no, i do-" he rushed, but you cut him off again.

"'ve been so good," you said, because it was true, "and you're being mean."

this seemed to sober him up, to turn his words to steel, steady and honest. this seemed to tap into a well of confidence you didn't even know he possessed, because he leaned forward, too, reached a broad hand out, brushed his thumb against your cheekbone, making your breath catch in your throat.

"i like being your friend," he said, and the words were like a soothing balm to your scorched reputation. then his gaze rippled with heat, and you remembered how you had gotten that reputation in the first place. he gave you a knowing sort of look. "but i want to kiss you, sweetheart. so badly."

you could have cried with relief, could have slapped him in the face for taking so long, could have made him wait a little bit longer just to be cruel, but instead, you just wrapped your arms around his neck, shifted forward, let him make space for you until your knees straddled his hips.

it felt like something religious that he was the one that pulled you closer, by your hips, that he was the one to dip his head down and meet you in a kiss that felt, simultaneously, like opening a door marked do not enter and finally, finally, coming home.

you tugged lightly at his hair, just wanting him closer, just wanting him as close as you could get him. his grip on one of your hips grew firm, confident, as the other hand splayed out on the side of your face, rough and warm.

you sighed into his mouth, because he tasted like how you remembered, like cool mint, and because he smelled so good, and because you felt so perfect, so safe.

his teeth knocked against yours, and his rhythm was off, and you had the feeling he was holding back, a little, but all of that was so him, was exactly the imperfect kiss you had been fixating on, but this time with the added passion of knowing him so genuinely, so deeply.

you dug a knuckle into his neck, worked at the knots under your touch. your movements grew slow, languished, lazy, as you softly rocked your hips against him, relished in the groan you pulled from him, making you pull away, just a little, feel him breathe heavy against you, his eyelids heavy. "so stiff, joey," you said, "relax for me, yeah?"

"yeah." he nodded, whined, slightly, when you shifted back and forth again. when his eyes caught yours again, there was something new there, a deeper desire, a question.

you leaned forwards, pressed your mouth messily to his jaw, down his neck. "just ask me," you said, between kisses, "you're allowed, baby, just ask me."

his voice was dazed, like it was hard to focus with your lips on his neck, with you grinding against him. you could feel him, firm and hard, underneath you. "just need," he tried, "just need something, sweetheart, please."

you pulled back, slightly, rested your cheek on his shoulder, giving you both a moment to catch your breath. "don't wanna rush you," you said into his collarbone, because you meant it, because it was important. "but 'll give you anything you want."

it felt so odd to even have to say that, because it seemed that everyone you'd been with, before, had already assumed this of you, that of course you'd give them anything, everything, because you were you, with that face, with that flirtatious smile, with that history.

it felt so lovely, to feel compelled to have to clarify that for him. because of course you would give him anything, everything, every single part of yourself, if he'd only ask.

he clasped his hands behind your back, exhaled slowly. "thank you," he whispered, and it broke your heart into a million pieces. when was the last time someone had thanked you for offering yourself up, like this? why did it almost make you want to cry?

"what do you want, baby?" you asked, running your nails along his neck, after his words had hardened around your heart like crystal, somehow still silken-soft. "will you let me make you feel good, hm? can i?"

you felt him take a deep breath against your chest. "please, sweetheart," he rasped. "please, need you, so bad."

"yeah?" you asked, shifting up and off of him, now kneeling beside his lap. "can i touch you?"

he nodded, and the heat in his eyes burned you. "please."

you reached a delicate hand forward, palmed his cock over his clothes, gentle, found him so hard and hot, while he hissed at first contact. "makin' me wait so long, baby, and you've been needin' me, too?" you teased, a soft grin on your swollen lips as you pulled him out fully, ran your hand along the length of him.

"'m sorry, sweetheart," he breathed, and it seemed funny, apologizing, then. "just wanted t'do the right thing."

you hummed, pumped him up and down, slowly, spit onto his length, kept going. "right thing, hm?" he nodded. "didn't feel right to me, baby," you said, picking up your pace, your grip wet and firm. he huffed, and his thighs tensed. "know what feels right?"

"what?" he asked, eyes pleading, practically spellbound by you, your steady stream of words, so different from him, rendered basically speechless.

"your cock in my hand," you answered, and of all things, he blushed. you bit your lip, because you had a feeling your word choice was the reason. you were pretty sure that, despite the circumstances, the thing that had your clean-tongued prince flustered was your dirty mouth. you pulled your touch away, let his eager hands help you out of his button down, your shirt underneath.

when you looked at him again, he was looking at you, already, with a galaxy in his eyes.

"what?" you asked, your mouth quirking up.

he laughed, lightly, shook his head. "just so pretty, sweetheart," he said, "just so, so pretty."

you scrunched up your face, but didn't hide your delighted smile as you went to kiss him on the jaw, hoisting your leg up and over him until you hovered above his lap. "pretty enough to fuck?" you asked, against his neck, right by his ear, and you smiled at the jolt of his hips, the shake of his breath. "tell me."

his hand braced the back of your neck, gave the softest rumble of a laugh, like whatever he was about to say was above him, like it was incomprehensible. "can i fuck you, trouble?" he asked, and you laughed, too, because the curse sounded so foreign on his lips.

it was something lovely to be laughing, with someone you trusted wholly, like this. with someone who thought, all that time ago, that you were a princess.

"watch your mouth, joey," you teased, giving him a false look of depravity as you reached under you, gripped him again, angled his cock to your core.

"such a," he began, his breath hitching when you began to sink down on him, "such a bad influence."

you groaned at the stretch as you pushed yourself down further, felt the burn of it in your throat, in your toes. you sucked on your teeth, had to close your eyes for a second as you clung to his neck for support.

finally, all the way in, you stayed still for a moment, adjusting, letting him adjust to you.

"this okay?" you whispered into his shoulder.

there was a pause. "you're perfect," he said, so genuinely it hurt. "feel so good, sweetheart."

you smiled. "can i move, baby?" he surprised you, then, answering you by gripping you harder and angling his hips up into you, slow and deep. you groaned at the sensation, fluttering in your stomach. "so good, joey," you breathed, then smiled, your tone turning devious when his other hand rooted in your hair, hard, steady. "fast learner, hm?" you asked, "already know what i like?"

his pace stuttered, but you met him thrust for thrust, up and down. "show me," he said, almost whiny, a slight sheen on the high points of his face, a flush on his neck and nose. "show me what you like, sweetheart." his eyes flooded with meaning. "want this t'be good for you, hm?"

your chest could have cracked open, because you couldn't remember the last time someone had wanted that, never mind voiced it to you. who would you be to deny him that?

you kissed his shoulder, showed him just how hard to tug at your hair. "you're so good to me, baby," you said, "too good to me, yeah?" you placed your palm over his hand, on your hip, moved it to your clit, showed him how to touch you. the friction made you clench around him, forcing a whimper from your mouth, a throaty groan from his as you both picked up your pace.

time didn't feel real, you supposed it never had, in this room. it had seemed irrelevant when you were working on mechanics problems for physics while he drafted papers for eastern european history, and it seemed irrelevant now, too.

for seconds or minutes or months, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer, heat building inside of you as his thrusts grew jerky, as his breathing heaved, as the friction of his hand against your clit made you delirious.

your thighs felt hot with exertion as you moaned. "gonna make me cum, joey," you said, at some point, dreamy, "so deep inside of me, baby, feel you here." you placed a palm on your lower stomach to show him, pushed down, relished in the pressurized sensation.

"'m so close," he breathed, "so perfect, sweetheart, right there."

"fuck, let me have it," you pleaded, so warm and wet around him. "want it so bad, baby, let me feel you. let me take it."

he came apart at your words, his muscles tensing abruptly under your palms as his orgasm triggered your own, so sudden and staggering you swore your teeth were chattering. your head collapsed onto his shoulder as your eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your back, holding you tight against his chest.

his shoulder was just barely damp with sweat under your cheek, and the air felt humid, heavy, like you could cup it in a palm.

when you opened your eyes, your flighty gaze caught on something shiny, just next to his desk, which had been taken over with completed lego sets. hanging on his open closet door was his tiara, you realized, from all those months ago. from before all the friendship and pining and making kingdoms out of bedroom floors.

it was sort of funny, how something like a cheap plastic crown could mean so much. if he hadn't worn it, what then? would any of this have even happened? if you hadn't reached up to straighten him out? hadn't made some joke about not being able to?

you laughed into him, and you could hear his smile. "what?" he rasped, making you look up at him. he looked straight out of a classical art museum, some kind of angel in acrylic, painted by a god-fearing sinner, all blushy cheeks and big, forgiving eyes, corded shoulders and lips wet with spit.

you massaged the back of his shoulders with a careful hand. "remember when you thought i was a princess?" you mused, the memory at the front of your mind.

"'course," he said. "most beautiful girl i'd ever seen."

you closed your eyes, exhaled, opened them again. "i was dressed as a wench," you said, but the joking tone you'd aimed for sounded dumb, following his honest confession.

he just smiled, a sliver of perfect teeth through pink lips. "don't know, trouble," he said, "pretty sure i know i princess when i see one. i was a prince, after all."

you hit him lightly on the chest, laughed. "i guess you know what you're talking about then, hm?"

he hummed. "oh, yeah," he confirmed, rubbing circles with his thumb into your lower back, "'specially when i'm talking about you."

and you thought, for the first time in a while, that maybe, to have someone talk about you wouldn't be a bad thing. that, perhaps, to have this somebody talk about you would be something quite special.

tomorrow, it would be daylight, and it would be busy, and the world would speed up again. tomorrow, benji would be late, of course, and bobby would mess up the chords to the interlude, and jenny would absolutely nail her first lead role. tomorrow, matt and simon would make a bunch of crude jokes and benji's freshman would give him a fruit basket to thank him for his leadership, and the theatre director would cry, because of how wonderful the production went.

tomorrow, a lot would happen.

but, tonight, there was just the boring prince of legos and piano keys, holding the unbecoming princess of bedpost notches and pleats. tonight, they resided over the kingdom of bad influence and embarrassed flushes.

and tonight, the kingdom was finally quiet.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #nhl smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #joseph woll #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #matthew knies #joseph woll imagine #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll smut #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #auston matthews smut

[leonw4nter]

She’s Everything and He’s… He’s There Too I Guess

Hockeyplayer!RE2R!Leon x Figureskater!Reader

“Those damned hockey players…”, you quietly hiss to yourself as you skate off to the side. You had almost fallen down and cracked your head open as there was a crater in the ice, left behind by those rowdy hockey players who used the arena before you did. You usually used the arena before the players could since the ice was at its best but because you ran late, you ended up with deformed ice. You stayed at the side a little more, checking your skates and looking around for some more craters so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the hockey team flail embarrassingly and land face-first. Besides palms that had a slight dull ache to them, you were lucky you didn’t fall hard and end up with a serious injury. “Sorry for uh– the ice,” a voice piped up behind you. You turn around and the first thing your gaze falls on is a pair of irises that are a hue of a midwinter sky. “I’m apologizing on behalf of my team. Do you, um… need any help…?,” he shyly asks. This guy looks new, might be a rookie since you haven’t seen a blonde-haired, rosy cheeked, baby-faced athlete that contrasts the rugged, brunette guys with faint stubbles. His blond hair is slightly tousled, the tips of his ears pink. “No, it’s fine– I’m fine,” you respond with a small nod. He looks at the rink before he asks if you're sure, genuine concern flashing in his eyes before you respond that you’re really sure, shooting him a small smile. He eventually turns around to get back to his team but not before he looks back once or twice. “Kennedy”, the back of his navy blue jersey reads. He’s cute; polite too. ──────────────────────────────────────────────────────

That’s how your friendship started out with the shy, good-souled starting goalie whose name is Leon. He’s looked out for you whenever you skated and offered moral support when he wasn’t training, shooting you a thumbs up and that adorably goofy smile of his. Whenever you’d blow him an air kiss mid-spin, he’d divert his gaze elsewhere as his cheeks and the tip of his ears redden up; his teammates would tease him too, which you found endearing. After your first interaction with Leon, you noticed that the team would usually arrive earlier than they normally do (and shoot Leon teasing grins and looks). They watch you skate to pass the time, some of them complimenting your moves as you leave the ice and they take their respective posts; all the players easily tossed compliments, except for Leon. “You um… you l-looked good out there–”, he would quickly mumble.

“Leon we’re literally friends, how are you still so shy?,” you would say with a bright smile. He often stuttered or rushed whatever he had to say, though you would usually giggle and softly offer a ‘thank you’ whilst he said his ‘no problem’ or ‘your welcome’. You give him a small pat to the arm before moving to the seat where you placed your bag and you swear you could hear Chris, Leon’s teammate, tease Leon and say ‘your girl’ or something close to that. Back then, you would immediately freshen up and get going after practice but after making friends with Leon, you’d stay at the arena to cheer and watch him play just like he does with you.“Good luck!,” you exclaim before they start a practice game. Leon shoots you that hundred-watt smile before pulling his helmet down, getting his game-face on. A giddy sizzle of electricity runs up and down your spine, making you feel all warmly odd and fuzzy. A smile curls the tip of your lips upward, bringing your head down to release a small chuckle. Goddamn Leon, you’re making the ice princess feel awfully warm.

“Give it your all Kennedy; your girlfriend’s watching you!,” Chris yells in an awfully happy voice.

“Shut up man, she’s not my girlfriend!,” Leon yells back, silently thankful for the fact that his helmet is hiding the beet-red flush of his cheeks. After some time, the practice game finally ended. You got up from your seat to bid Leon and the guys goodbye before you finally left.

“Bye guys, bye Leon!,” you say with a small wave. All the guys said bye in unison, with Leon’s own response being slightly delayed since he was ruffling his silvery blond hair.

“Bro got his own special goodbye greeting,” Chris says to no one in particular. The other guys turn their heads to give Leon a knowing look along with a teasing snicker, prompting Leon to shyly mumble a “shut up” even though no one really said anything besides Chris.

This is your routine for the next 5 months. You and Leon have managed to grow closer too– now going on hangouts, lunch runs, and sometimes teaching each other basic moves from your respective sports. You also noticed that Leon seemed to be a little more awkward around you, unable to maintain eye contact when doing something as simple as talking and choosing to focus on other parts of your face like your cheeks and occasionally your lips too. There was an instance, about a month ago, where you both were watching His Girl Friday. Leon was saying the lines at the same time as Cary Grant’s character was, seemingly familiar with the film. He kept spilling facts about the movie, obviously very enthused. You know some facts too, but not as in-depth as him. His eyes twinkled with interest, his legs bouncing with enthusiasm whenever a scene he liked came on. Though he never looked you straight in the eye for no more than seven seconds, you would often catch him stealing a glance when he thought you weren’t looking. You feel him shift on the couch so you turn to look at him but you’re instead met with a piercing gaze. Odd. He inches a little closer, his gaze unsure whether to focus on your eyes or… lips. Heart pounding like a jackhammer in your chest and mind fading into nothing, you did what you thought was the most un-awkward thing at the moment: share a piece of trivia.

“Um– Howard Hawks and Charles Lederer also worked on Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,” you swiftly say, causing the words to sound a little mashed together.

“I know,” he simply says. There’s a rasp in his voice, his gaze fixed on your eyes now. Slowly, he closes the gap and you follow him too but he stops and pulls back at the last minute. “Nevermind,” he murmurs before turning his attention back on the screen. You sit there, frozen still and trying to process what happened. “Did he just try to kiss me,” you silently think to yourself. You clear your throat and adjust your position, trying to get your focus back on the movie but all you can really think about was that moment. “If I could travel back in time, Cary Grant is one of the people I’d like to meet,” he suddenly says. He turns to you, that goofy grin on his mouth again; he’s acting as if that moment mere seconds ago never happened. Maybe I’m just overthinking this.

Instances like this keep happening for a month or so; he leans in close, you keep thinking that this is it, he pulls away saying “nevermind” or “nothing”. Leon always wore his heart on his sleeve: he spoke what he truly felt so keeping something secret was definitely uncharacteristic but not too odd. He did start being more affectionate though: buying you flowers, getting you food, and even buying you random stuff (like a leg warmer that you had told him was cute once). He even began holding your hand or giving you hugs, which made you feel special but that feeling went down the drain when you saw him hug Chris’ sister Claire. All this was confusing you, since you liked him too and you wanted to know if this was a one-sided thing with all the signals thrown around. This time, you were determined to get your assumptions about his feelings straight so you wouldn’t be all the more confused and possibly misled. Jill, a friend of Claire's, arranged an outdoor ice skating get-together. Claire invited Chris, who in turn invited Leon and then invited you. For the next two hours, the four of you spent the time skating around. Jill and Claire needed help maintaining their balance so the three of you had to stay around them so they wouldn’t fall and possibly injure themselves. Since there weren’t so many people in the rink, Leon and Chris got to race each other whilst you got to do your jumps and spins. Not too long after, it was down to you and Leon doing the skating. “This is it. Showtime,” you thought to yourself. Catching up to Leon, you decided to pop the question.

“Soo… are you into Claire? Or Jill?,” you asked innocently.

“Huh– Um, no–,” Leon responded. Flustered, the tips of his ears reddened.

“C’mon. Just tell me so I can maybe play matchmaker and set you up with either of them,” you coax. You masked your own personal feelings for him by using this method. Although it stung slightly, you can’t force him to like you so the most you can do for him is to help him out regarding matters of the heart.

“I mean… they’re kind and beautiful and overall great people but they’re just not, you know… they’re not my type,” he shyly responds.

“Okay… then who’s your type?”

“You.”

You stop pushing your feet and just slide across the ice, staring into Leon’s face with a puzzled expression. “Did I hear that right?”

“Yeah, you did,” Leon quietly says. Looking back at the others, he sees that they’re sitting down and having a chat over some hot chocolate in a thermos so he takes this chance to finally speak.

“Y’know, when I went up to you those 5 months ago and apologized about the ice, I didn’t think my decision would hit me with a vengeance. At first I thought you were pretty and good at what you do but after being friends with you, you look much more divine to me and seeing you march to the beat of your own drum and- and actually getting a look into your actual personality, I knew that I’d love you. I’d love you through my screw-ups and through yours too,” he confessed. You two were still skating but at a slower pace now. Snow was beginning to gently fall down, tiny snowflakes gliding through the frigid air. Steam softly billowed out of your mouths, both your cheeks red like apples but not as red as Leon’s.

“Claire and Jill are amazing women– they’re just like you: they’re nice, attractive, helpful– overall decent people but out of all the possible personalities in here, my favorite type is you,” he finishes. His heart is doing quadruple Axels in his chest, ready to take flight or shatter any moment now. His hands, stuffed inside his warm coat pocket, are feeling clammy and sweaty. Suddenly, he kind of regrets letting out such a long confession.

“Hey I’m s-,” you cut him off in the best way ever.

You skate in front of him, hands extending towards him. Your left hand tugs at the collar of his gray trench coat whilst your right hand travels to the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into the back of his head and threading themselves amongst the tufts of soft hair. You draw him near, closing the gap with a tender kiss. His body tenses up, his system shutting down, and he freezes but soon regains his bearings and kisses you back. His fingers leave his pockets and situate themselves on your waist, his thumbs gently drawing circle patterns. He doesn’t ask for more, just giving and taking. His slightly chapped lips spread into a giddy smile whilst still pressed against yours; Leon could only describe this kiss as a comforting breath of the sun that could keep the winter away. You pull away reluctantly and gaze into his eyes, ink-hued pupils swallowing the icy blue of his irises.

“I love you too,” you breathlessly say with an equally giddy grin.

A surprised laugh escapes Leon’s slightly parted mouth as he hugs you, lifting you up.

“Hey lovebirds!,” Jill calls out. You two look at Jill, who is cupping her mouth with gloved hands. “We saved some hot cocoa for you both! Come while Chris’ ass isn’t chugging it yet!”.

You two look at each other again, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you guys’ eyes glimmer in the shared love being realized. Leon takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. You skate over to where Chris, Jill, and Claire are waiting. Jill hands the cup to Leon but Leon politely declines, offering it to you instead which earns raised eyebrows and smirks from the three. You take a sip of the drink, a comforting warmth taking over your body like a nice warm, weighted blanket.

“Don’t you want some?,” you ask Leon.

“I have a better way of tasting it later,” Leon responds with a cheeky wink.

“I heard that!,” Chris’ loud voice booms.

NOTE - This is my first time writing and working on something like this so if you liked it then that's really great and if not then feel free to tell me what you want me to improve on! My uploading schedule isn't super definite since I write whenever I feel like it. That's it and thanks for reading :)

The dividers (the ones with the star and circle) are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff

[qrrieterisunnq]

It's nothing - Nico Hischier

nico!hischier x fem!reader Summary: Nico gets injured during the game, which leads to y/n checking him out in the medical room. Nico downplays his injury to make a good impression on Y/n. requested: yes/no A/N: I hope you'll like it, it's unedited so I might change something when I have time to edit the rest of the fics! So just enjoy this fic and happy rest of the day! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 1,38K warning(s): injured Nico, y/n is an intern, cocky Nico, fluff

masterlist | wip's

The puck is on Nico’s stick as he skates towards the net of the team they’re playing against. They are up for two goals, but they are just in the second period. Nico looks around, looking for his teammates so he can pass them the puck.

On his left is Jack but there are two islanders next to him, so he wouldn’t be able to get the puck. There are other two Luke and Ondřej, but they aren’t in the best position, so the last one is Jasper who is in center with the best chance to shoot a goal.

“Bratter!” he shouts, his thick Swiss accent making Jasper whisp his head in Nico’s direction. With a swift swing of his stick, Nico sends the puck over to him all eyes on Jesper as he shoots on the net getting the puck in the top left corner. The cheers and the bell sound through the arena, and the boys on the ice skate over to Jesper embracing him in a hug and patting his head. “Atta boy!” Nico laughs, patting his helmet.

“God shot, J!” Jack skates over to them, joining the hug. The lineup slowly makes their way to the bench bumping the extended gloves of their teammates.

After their celebration, Nico skates on the faceoffs, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down to win the face-off. As soon as the puck touches the ice, Nico swings his stick the puck sliding behind him on Jack’s stick. He swings his stick, hitting the puck hard as it flies in the net, right between the goalie's legs, but this time, he’s prepared for it and deflects the puck away. Nico skates toward it, but the defenseman on the other team pushes him in the boards. Nico’s shoulder slammed into the boards, and he fell down, staying there as he winced in pain.

The referee immediately whistles announcing penalties, as the boys skate over to Nico. Timo immediately shoves the other player away earning a shove in return.

But Timo's anger and loyalty to Nico won't let him and he shoves him again, the defenceman doesn't like that and gives Timo a hard hit in the face.

The free referee skates over to them trying to get them away from each other. Jack skates towards them hugging Timo around his waist and pulling him away. “YOU SON OF BITCH!” Timo shouts over Jack’s shoulder as he’s dragged away to the bench.

“You okay, Nico?” Ondřej asks Nico as he kneels down beside him.

“My shoulder hurts like a bitch.” Nico whimper, his left hand clutching his right one

“Okay, give me your hand, we’ll get you down to the medical room.” He sighs gripping Nico’s left hand and helping him up on the skates as he skates with him to the bench.

“You okay Nico?” Coach Green asks with concern in his eyes.

“No my shoulder hurts like a bitch!” he curse as he clutches Ondřej’s arm for support.

“I’ll lead him down to the medical room, I’m sure y/n is ready for him.” Coach just nods his head making room for them to leave down the tunnel.

“Y/n! Are you here!” you can hear a voice with a thick accent calling for you. Immediately you run to the door opening and welcome the two players inside the room.

“Yeah! Come in, come in!” you urge them inside pointing towards the table. “Sit on the table Nico and Pally I need you to help him take off the jersey and pads.” You say as you walk over to your table taking the gloves from the box.

“Sure.” He nods his head solely helping Nico to get his jersey from his injured shoulder. “Thanks, O.” Nico breathes out as soon as the jersey is off of him leaving him sitting here in only his pads. “I get the pads you can go back. I need you to win the game!”

“You sure Cap?”

“Yeah positive, go and kick their asses.” Nico goes to move his right arm to extend his fist but winces in pain.

“Hey, Nico, be careful!” you scold him as you walk over to him starting to get his pads off.

“Sorry,” he pouts, a small laugh leaving Ondřej’s lips. “But it’s nothing.”

“Okay, can you please slowly raise your hand up? As soon as it starts hurting you stop okay?” you say when he’s sitting half-naked in front of you.

Nico just nods his head raising his right arm. You watch his face wince in pain but he continues raising it until it is in a vertical position. “It’s nothing, see?” he points to the right arm.

“I’m the one to say if it’s nothing. The boarding looked really nasty so let me do my job here okay?” you smile at him your hands gripping his right arm and getting it down in a normal position. You place your hands on his shoulder, squeezing the right places to find out what is with his shoulder.

“So, how are you enjoying the internship so far?” he asks as you do your job with his shoulder.

“Oh, it's amazing! Really the medical staff here is so welcoming and really helpful when I need something or I don’t know what something is. And of course, you guys are amazing too, you know, free hockey games.” You chuckle a throaty laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh, are we?” he says cocky smile lingering on his lips. “Yeah, I mean you’re playing amazing,” you look at him when a quiet groan leaves his mouth. He just shakes his head like it's nothing, that it’s not hurting. “Especially you.” You whisper to yourself hoping he won’t hear it. It’s no secret you have a crush on the captain. Lots of the guys noticed how you check him off and the medical staff too.

“Especially me, eh?” he asks his hands landing on your hips as he pulls you between his legs.

“Yeah, and now let me do my job. Your shoulder is dislocated so I need to get it back in its place,” You say shaking his hands off your hips. “So on three, okay?” you prepare him for a pain. Your left hand is resting on his shoulder and your right is holding his biceps so you can pull at it.

“Yeah, you don’t have to count, it won’t hurt, I’m a tough guy.” Smirk finding its way on his lips shrugging you grasp his shoulder harder at the same time as you pull on his biceps getting the shoulder in the right place.

“Oh FUCK!!” he hisses his teeth sinking in his lower lips.

“Tough guy, huh?” you smirk at him patting his tight as you walk over to the table for bandage.

“Very funny y/n, really.” He says taking in deep breath, and just watching y/n do her job. He had this intense crush on her since she started her internship here only a few weeks ago.

“What, I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt!” you giggle as you carefully bandage his shoulder. “Okay, tough guy! You can go on the ice, but be careful with it. One bag hit in the shoulder and you might end up here again.” You smile at him when you’re done and fuck…your smile is so fucking cute and he just wants that full plump lips on his.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind ending up in here again.” Nico puts his pads back on his shoulders and arms, covering his toned muscular chest. You pout at it, shaking your head at yourself.

“Yeah, good one. Now go on that ice and kick some asses. And for a record, don’t try to downplay your injury just to make a good impression on someone, tough guy.” You motion your hand towards the ice and turn away to take off your gloves and write something on the computer.

“Okay, thanks for the advice miss intern.” He salutes and walks from the medical room, only to come back. “And by the way, tomorrow, you and me, dinner! I’ll pick you up at eight.” He sends you a wink, causing your cheeks to turn red. Before you can say anything, he’s running down the tunnel to the ice. You just shake your head at him, sitting down on your chair, your cheeks still bright red and your thoughts already on tomorrow and the dinner.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #nh13 #nj devils #nhl #nico hischier fic #nhl fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

[wlntrsldler]

i’m kinda feeling a jealous!luke rn…… how do we feel about luke going to cheer for fuve star in one of her matches but afterwards when he’s going to congratulate her, he finds some dude trying to flirt with her. and she’s clearly not interested but luke doesn’t miss the chance to greet her with a kiss and then look at the guy with the most annoyed, dismissive expression ever. then luke smiles. “sorry, was i interrupting?”

a/n: i know nothing about field hockey! beware!

"mr. d, i don't know how you do this," luke muttered, eyes darting between you and clarisse on the field. the score was 1-1 and it was end of 2OT. both teams were gearing up for a shootout for the national title. "i've never been this nervous in my life."

mr. d chuckled from beside him, placing a comforting hand on luke's upper back, "trust me, it doesn't get any easier."

"i think i'm gonna throw up," chris mumbled from beside luke, anxiously waiting for the referee to indicate that the shootout was starting. clarisse was third on the line-up.

"you and me both, brother," luke replied, chewing on his bottom lip. he tugged on his shirt, suddenly feeling confined in the fabric. you were so close to the championship. this was the final game and if you won, you'd be a back-to-back national champion.

luke knew how hard you worked to get here. he often got voice memos from you, ranting about how practice and training wore you out, but he knew you got up bright and early the next day to do it again. you fell asleep on facetime calls often, sometimes only lasting ten minutes before you fell asleep on the call.

"it's starting," chris said, getting up from his seat. "i don't know if i want to watch or look away."

northwestern was up first. goal.

"fuck," travis groaned, echoing the sentiment of fellow unc supporters in the stands.

connor and travis were sitting behind him, both equally nervous to see how the game would unfold. you and clarisse had bought them unc merch to wear to the game, but luke and chris wanted to surprise you and clarisse with diy shirts that said "number [your jersey number/ clarisse's jersey number] biggest fan." you and clarisse both laughed when you saw their shirts. you loved them.

by the time it was clarisse's turn, the score was 1-0 (shootout) with unc trailing behind.

"come on, clar," chris hollered, clapping his hands, "you got this!"

clarisse masterfully maneuvered around northwestern's goalie and sunk the ball into the net. the boys and mr. d screamed in celebration as the score changed to reflect the goal. 1-1. unc was still in it.

clarisse pointed to the stands, eyes finding chris' in the crowd and blew him a kiss. chris beamed as he saw himself on the big screen. he pointed to his shirt, mouthing, "that's my girl!"

"i love how two days ago you guys had no clue how field hockey worked and now look at you," silena teased, adjusting the unc cap on her head.

"we still don't know what's going on, to be honest," luke replied sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck, "but this is the big game!"

"i get it," she said, nudging charlie, "i still don't understand football but i'm at my wits end every time i watch him play."

charlie chuckled, wrapping an arm around silena's waist, before cheering with the rest of the crowd when you stepped up for the shootout.

you were the last one to go and even that alone is a lot of pressure, but you were the tiebreaker for this shootout. the score was still 1-1. nobody has scored since clarisse, both goalies were brick walls and luke's heart was hammering in his chest.

"come on, five star," he whispered, biting his knuckles, "light work baby."

you took a deep breath and dribbled the ball. you were electric out there. you were strategic and quick on your toes. luke was mesmerized watching you play. he'd seen your tapes before, in preparation for this game just so he wasn't completely clueless walking into the championship game, but watching it in real time was something else.

you swerved around the goalie and hit the ball. luke held his breath. goal.

"let's fucking go!" you screamed, falling to your knees on the field as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

the screams from the unc fans were defeaning. luke was grinning from ear to ear as the boys cheered around him. chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shaking him relentlessly. luke couldn't contain his excitement, but he knew that he should let you have this moment with your team. he'll celebrate with you in a bit, for now, you needed to soak in this feeling. back-to-back national champion.

as the adrenaline from the win began to subside, luke and chris, with the help of mr. d, made their way to the field. chris wandered off to find clarisse and luke was standing on the sidelines as mr. d talked to your coach. he watched as you did your post-game interview. you were glowing and it took all his willpower to not run up to you and kiss you on national television.

when you shook the reporter's hand in goodbye, luke began walking over to you, only to stop in his tracks when a boy approached you. luke blinked, tilting his head as he watched the situation unfold.

the guy was... okay-looking. he was definitely an athlete too, based on his build and height. luke's assumptions were proven correct when he got close enough to see his unc basketball hoodie. the boy's eyes fucking twinkled while he spoke to you, a charming smile adorning his face that luke wanted to punch off his prince charming facade.

he watched as you took a step back from the boy, awkwardly gesturing somewhere in the stands. luke felt smug hearing you say, "well, i have a boyfriend and he's over there actually so i should go find him."

but the guy was not letting up. luke watched as the guy rolled his eyes, obviously unphased by your revelation. luke clenched his jaw, keeping his composure.

luke marched over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to turn you around. he roughly connected his lips with yours, smirking inside when you moaned at the contact. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper. his hands traveled up your spine, pushing you flush against his body. when the two of you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, a giddy smile on your face as you breathed out, "hell of a congratulations, castellan."

luke laughed, placing a quick kiss to your lips before turning to address the boy, "sorry, was i interrupting something?"

you had to cover your mouth to muffle the snort that came out of you. luke was staring at the boy intensely, lips in a tight line, as his hand squeezed the skin of your hip in possessiveness. the boy faltered, taking a step back in defeat. luke continued to shoot daggers at him, not deterred by the threat, or lack thereof, in front of him. eventually, the boy got the hint and walked away, shaking his head.

luke's cocky smirk was unstoppable as he faced you again, "great job, baby. national champ, again! look at you."

"thank you," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. luke welcomed your public display of affection. "are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

he rolled his eyes, playfully, "nah, not worth it."

"yeah, but it was hot."

"then yes, let's talk about how hot you think i am."

"shut up," you replied, kissing him again. if this was your way of shutting him up, he wasn't going to complain.

#frances replies #poisoned mercury chats #luke castellan x reader

[strawberrysturniolo]

ok about goal hockey!chris

can we have a part 2 with reader actually fighting hart's girlfriend after she said something about chris at a party and reader wins please LMAO

goal part three // hockey!chris

summary: the reader finds herself in a fight as she defends her boyfriend, chris

It’s safe to say that Chris has had a great season. Whether or not he wants to go pro after college, scouts have been at almost every game with their eyes on him. He’s had meetings with some coaches, hoping they can convince him to leave his friends and family and go wherever he is wanted. 

I have done nothing but support any decision he plans on making. I know he could thrive in the NHL, and I also know that he would love it if he would let himself. But it’s understandable that he may not want to leave his family. He makes a point every day that he doesn’t want to leave me either. 

Tonight’s game is against Harvard. 

More importantly, against Hart. 

The last time we played Harvard, Chris fought Hart. Even though we won that game, Chris has made a point over and over again that he does not want to deal with Hart’s ‘pathetic comments and even more pathetic hockey skills.’

Chris usually goes MIA on game days, which I totally understand. He puts so much pressure on himself and prefers to take his time on his own and focus on his own routine before he takes the ice. However, it is tradition for us to see each other right before the game, but Chris prefers to not be distracted in the morning or throughout the day.

I threw on Chris’ alternate jersey to wear to the game, along with a pair of leggings and matching Nike dunks to tie everything together. When I made it to the rink, I hung out with my friends before heading to the outside of the locker room to wish my boyfriend good luck before his game. 

I hear the sound of men cheering and chanting, signaling their journey to the ice. 

I find my boyfriend towards the end of the crowd of guys, waving to him with a smile before he runs over to me in his skates. 

“Hi baby,” he smiles, scooping me up in all his padding. He’s double his own size with all of that on him. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m at every game, Chris,” I remind him.

He shrugs after putting me back on the ground. “It still makes me happy knowing that you’re here with me.”

I place a soft kiss on his lips before pushing his hair out of his face. “You gonna give me a goal today?”

He nods confidently. “Of course.”

He peeks at his jersey on my body, smirking to himself before holding my cheeks and pressing a needy kiss to my lips. My lips part, granting him more access. His hands quickly find my waist, pulling me closer. My arms rest over his shoulders, my fingers twirling the curls at the base of his neck. 

I’m not sure how long we’ve been standing there making out, but it had to be too long. Chris’ coach’s voice rings in my ears.

“Sturniolo!” he calls, pulling Chris back. “Get on the ice!”

Chris presses a kiss to my cheek before walking away. “Doesn’t she look cute in my jersey, Coach?”

A grin grows on my face, especially when I see his coach smack the back of Chris’ head, scolding him. 

I find myself a seat in the stands next to my friends and some of the other girlfriends on the team. Once the game starts, we’re all cheering for our respective friends and boyfriends. 

Some time during the first period I hear a few girls with some snarky comments.

“Could they be any more obnoxious?” the laugh behind us. “I mean, they’re cheering for their boyfriend’s who are playing like shit. They’re too clueless about the game to not know when to shut your mouth.”

My eyebrows furrow at the sound of them. I’ve been to every game since Chris and I became friends. He’s taught me everything I need to know, and what does it matter when or how I cheer for him. I’m here to show my support, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

When I watch Hart snipe a shot past our goalie, everything makes sense. 

I hear that same voice behind me shout, “Let’s go baby!” as she jumps up.

That bitch.

Chris skates in front of us as they set up another play, rolling his eyes at Hart’s girlfriend in the process. Chris’ team gets set up, trailing closely behind Harvard. In seconds, my boyfriend is speeding down the ice and firing a shot at Harvard’s goalie when he least expects it. I’m on my feet before the shot even goes in, but when it hits the back of the net, I’m shouting for Chris.

“Yeah, baby!” I cheer out. He grins at me as he holds his stick in the air, skating towards his teammates. 

“That was pure luck,” I hear from behind me. “If our defensemen had beat him there, there’s no way that shot would have gone in.”

This is the dumbest claim I’ve ever heard. ‘If our defensemen had beat him there…’

Yeah, and they didn’t, so my boyfriend scored. 

The same stupid comments continue to fly out of her clueless mouth as the game goes on. 

The score stayed at 1-1 for another period, until Matt scored a goal of his own. I jumped up in support of my boyfriend’s brother, but my excitement grows when an announcer says that Chris assisted that goal. 

“Yeah, Chris!”

Laughter comes from behind me. “This girl is too stupid! Her boyfriend didn’t even score that goal!”

I turn around slowly, an obvious look of annoyance on my face. “Maybe your brain is fogged from all that puff puffing you’re doing back here with your friends, but Chris assisted Matt’s shot. You say a lot about thinking I don’t know anything about hockey, but anyone with a brain would be able to figure out why I was cheering.”

My best friend pulls me back down before the situation grows into something more, possibly worse than it already is. “Just ignore her,” she says. 

That suggestion is only growing more difficult as she’s shit talking my own boyfriend while she sits only a few feet away. I’m starting to understand why Chris decided to fight Hart. I’m having a hard time holding myself back from his girlfriend. 

I sit on my hands and fold my lips into my mouth to keep myself from reacting in any way that could make me or Chris look bad. I have no idea if there are any scouts for him today, and I can’t risk throwing away an opportunity for him. 

“You okay?” Chris mouths from across the ice. I only nod in response.

The game ends with another win for us. 2-1. It was a close game, but we won, and that’s all that matters. I stand from my seat and clap for the team before heading out of the rink before Hart’s idiotic girlfriend can say anything else to get under my skin. 

I stand outside the locker room with the other girls as I always do, this time, with the Harvard girlfriends purposefully following us on our way. I stand silently, trying to ignore them as I wait for Chris to come out of the locker room, but Hart’s girlfriend’s whispers to her friends while her eyes are on me are getting harder to ignore. 

“Sophie, we all know that Hart kicked his ass once, and he is able to do it again.”

So her name’s Sophie.

Are they forgetting the fact that Chris won that fight?

“How cute is she, wearing her boyfriend’s jersey?” one of her other friend’s pitches in. “I think it’s got some of Sturniolo’s blood on it from that fight!”

“Are you guys done?” I ask, my tone snippy. “You shouldn’t even be down here. It’s for our students and our players. Shouldn’t you be comforting your boyfriend’s after that loss?” 

Sophie laughs at my comment. “I’m pretty sure this is for anyone. Maybe if you weren’t making out with your boyfriend any time you were down here, you’d see that fans of both teams have full access to this space.”

Before I have a chance to argue, she takes a step forward with venom in her tone. “Too busy occupying the slutty puck bunny role to notice anything else around you.” 

I don’t even have time to process my actions before I feel a sting in my hand. 

Oh my god.

“You bitch,” she says, holding her cheek. 

My friends surround me as I stand in shock. I just slapped Hart’s girlfriend.

That joke about Chris wanting me to fight his girlfriend just came true. Maybe this doesn’t count as a fight though. We can just label this as a little… scrap?

Nevermind. 

Now Sophie is kicking me everywhere and yanking on my hair.

“Hey, hey, hey!” I hear Chris’ voice as he runs over to the group of girls. 

“Ow!” I yell out, smacking my hand around with my eyes closed.

I’m pulled back by my shirt, opening my eyes to find Chris dragging me away. 

He pulls me into the locker room with his jaw clenched. It’s pretty sexy, honestly. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he shouts. 

Okay… Maybe not sexy when he’s yelling at me. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he adds. 

“She was calling me names and-”

“No!” he interrupts me. “This is fucking ridiculous. I watched you slap her!”

“You fought Hart-”

“In a hockey game!”

“She called me a slutty puck bunny!”

“I don’t care! I was talking to the Bruins coach when you were fighting some girl over a stupid comment!”

Fuck.

“You were?” I ask, my voice softer as I’m filled with guilt. 

He tears off his jersey and his padding and throws it into his bag. “Yeah, I had to excuse myself and throw away that opportunity before he realized you were wearing my jersey.”

“I’m sorry, Chris,” I apologize sincerely. 

He ignores me as he finishes packing up. I sit silently on a bench and wait for him to finish. 

He sighs as he throws his bag over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod. Nothing really matters about my situation now that I know about Chris talking to the Bruins coach.

“I’m really sorry, Chris.”

“I know. I should have listened to what happened between you guys before I lashed out,” he confesses. “I’m gonna call the coach tomorrow and see if he wants to get lunch to hopefully make up for this.”

I frown. “I ruined this for you–”

“You didn’t,” he assures me. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

I follow him as we walk out of the locker room and to my car. He turns around with a cheesy grin.

“That was a good slap. Rang through the hall,” he compliments me. 

I roll my eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

took a different approach to this request but i hope you still like it! tag list: @freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl @oliviasturniolo21

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

1/?

👑 girlbossriko follow

how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them

👑 girlbossriko follow

????? do i know u

#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep

558 notes

💃fox-me-up follow

ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀

#psu lb #exy lb

8 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT

#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd

102 notes

☀️ usctrojanny

every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)

#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying 🤷‍♀️

58 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

did he just......

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

guys please tell me i'm not insane

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE

#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!

407 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)

#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy

84 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death

#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this

284 notes

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

feeling normal

215 notes

📜 realexyblog

actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine

112 notes

🐋 sexyexy

'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it

11 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player

#i don't believe that straight exy players exist

56 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

📖 sapphic-exy follow

he literally killed someone

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count

807 notes

🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy

got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD

2 notes

🌸 softexy

Kevin Day - A Study

#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen

378 notes

#i'm not taking criticism bc i am on sportsblr and this is literally what it's like #all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #renee walker #jeremy knox #jean moreau #aftg #the foxhole court #jerejean #kevneil #the web weave is the most accurate part of this post #exyblr #riko moriyama

[morganbritton132]

Eddie and Nancy supporting Steve and Robin playing soccer is fantastic because of course they don’t care about. It feels like a great time for them to sit and catch up though; I just feel like there’s so much to bond over. And? How does Eddie react if Steve uses his head to hit the ball? I know it’s just a ball but I’m worried about Steve’s head! Thank you again for this world <3

I love the thought of Steve showing Eddie all this equipment he bought for this random summer soccer league that him and Robin decided the join. Eddie just takes it all in even though he doesn’t know anything about soccer and doesn’t really want to learn.

“Okay, so that protects down here,” He says, gesturing to Steve’s legs. He then gestures to Steve’s face, “What about up here?”

Steve’s just like, “Oh, I bought these protective glasses but I’ll probably just wear contacts.”

“No, I mean,” Eddie gestures even higher up on Steve’s head. “Shin guards, right? Protects the shins. What’s protecting all of that?”

“My hair?”

“Your skull.”

“It’s soccer, Ed,” and if that means something, Eddie does not know what it is. “Unless you’re the goalie, it’s all below the waist.”

“…Are you the-“

“I’m not the goalie.”

So Eddie doesn’t love it but he’ll accept it. He liked it better when Steve played baseball with the teachers from school because baseball players have helmets but it’s just soccer, right. Not like it’s football or MMA.

Then Eddie goes to the first game and watches Steve use his head to stop a ball and just *internally screams*

#Nancy’s next to him like: hmm I don’t like that #neither know shit about the sport but only Nance will yell at the ref for not calling a foul #then she’ll turn around and ask Eddie if they have fouls in this sport #like he’d know at all #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[hischierswhore]

first game | nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x shy!reader

request: yes

a/n: trying out a new layout… let me know ur thoughts 🫶🏼

You sat in the stands as you watch the Devils trickle out for warm ups. This wasn't your first time attending a hockey game, but it was the first game in which you were in attendance to support your boyfriend, Nico.

You and Nico had been dating for around a month. You've known each other for just over 3 months, the first 2 months were spent building a friendship and genuine connection with one another.

You were extremely shy and socially awkward. However, Nico could always pull you out of that shell, and he has so far. Social settings and events like this weren't your thing, but you decided to come support Nico because he really wanted you to be there.

You arrived at the stadium, walked through security and sat down in the stands. You had gotten seats just 2 rows away from the plexiglass. The "Hischier" jersey you sported caught his attention immediately as he skated onto the ice.

He gave you a nod and a bright smile as he skated towards your section. In that moment, you fell even more in love with him. Your heart fluttered every time he looked your way or smiled at you. It gave you a sense of comfort, considering you never really interacted much with people outside of school and Nico.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him on the ice. His slick moves and fast paced pace mesmerized you as he darted by you. He occasionally flashed a smile at you throughout the game or gave you questioning looks, making sure you felt comfortable in this new environment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the game ended, you walked back into the parking lot and sat in your car as you waited for Nico. You'd both decided it'd be best if you met up at your car, considering you both knew that the tunnel would be full of people and you'd rather avoid that for now at least.

As soon as you heard a knock at your window, you jumped in surprise, momentarily forgetting that you were waiting for Nico. You look up and meet his smiling face, happy that you didn't have to endure the mass of fans in the tunnel.

You unlocked the car to let Nico get into the passenger seat. Once he's settled in, he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before saying, "I missed you." You blushed slightly at his words.

"I missed you too, Nico. I'm glad you wanted me here tonight." You leaned in and kissed him again, pulling into a hug over the center console.

You and Nico headed home after stopping to get some take-out to eat once you settled into his apartment. As soon as the door shut behind you, you sat on the couch next to Nico, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. Your hands intertwined as you lay next to Nico, both of you lazily snuggled under his warm blanket.

"Did you enjoy the game, schatzi?" He asks you quietly, smiling softly. You smile against his chest, placing your hand on his cheek and gazing deeply into his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I did. How was it for you? Better than last time?" He chuckled and nodded.

"It was better than most of our games. The whole team played well though, especially our goalie who made an insane amount of saves. We won 4-1” He said proudly, squeezing you tighter.

Calming silence filled the room as you both simply lay there in each others arms. Not speaking to fill the space, neither wanting to break the intimate moment.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you felt Nico shift and look at you.

"Thank you for coming tonight, schatzi. It means a lot" He whispered. A soft smile spread across your face as you glanced up at him.

"Of course. You know I wouldn't miss it for the world." You whisper back as he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I love you, Y/n" he mumbles between kisses. His sweet words make you blush slightly as he pulls away.

"I love you too, Nico" You reply, feeling the butterflies begin to swarm within your stomach.

taglist

@lovelynikol16

#✎ natalie writes #nico hischier #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fluff

[baddestbittyontheblock]

alessia russo fic recs (1/3)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

🍓。·ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍒。·ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍓。·ﾟ♡ﾟ･🍓。·ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍒。·ﾟ♡ﾟ･🍓

𓂃 ✿ make me yours my love (cause you’re nobody to me, yet somebody to me) alessia russo x reader | fluff (tooth-rotting fluff)

𓂃 ✿ remember that night? alessia russo x reader |

-part 2 to i’ll wait forever 

𓂃 ✿ return alessia russo x reader |

-in which; alessia broke up with you three years ago to focus on her career, breaking your heart completely, eventually you see each other for the first time since your breakup once you join the lionesses for a last minute call-up- and there's a whole lot of unresolved feelings.

𓂃 ✿ the end alessia russo x reader |

-one with alessia russo where the reader suffers a career ending injury

𓂃 ✿ sleepless nights alessia russo x reader |

-when lessi can’t sleep without any kind of physical touch but r gets hot easily & when they’re on holiday r can’t sleep if they cuddle but less can’t sleep when they don’t touch

𓂃 ✿ will you love me 'til the end of time? alessia russo x reader |

-alessia leaves for aresenal, she leaves behind manchester- she leaves behind you.

𓂃 ✿ you belong with me (i belong with you) alessia russo x reader |

-moments of lessi and her girl (you) through the years

𓂃 ✿ meanie alessia russo x reader |

-headcannons about meangirl less as a gf!

𓂃 ✿ alessia blurb alessia russo x reader |

-lessi would be the type to love the fact that she had a wag girlfriend because she could finally designate her waves and kisses to someone in the crowd.

𓂃 ✿ countdown alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ time management alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ co-dependency. alessia russo x reader |

-surprising lessi with multiple cheek kisses at a time

𓂃 ✿ good morning sunshine alessia russo x reader |

-reader being an early bird but less having none of it, whenever she wakes up without reader she goes downstairs asap and just is whiny that she can't get her morning cuddles

𓂃 ✿ alessia day alessia russo x reader |

-tooth rottingly soft self care days with star girl

𓂃 ✿ i'm tired of lovin' from afar (and never being where you are) alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ 'cause you used to be a part of me (now you're only somebody) alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ you don’t have to be sola (you don’t have to be here alone) alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ head over (tar) heels. alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ Falling for me... literally? alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ We're a team. Always. alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ "come to bed" alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ poke alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ twelve alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ alessia x leah x reader blurb alessia russo x reader | leah williamson x reader

𓂃 ✿ evening alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ in safe hands alessia russo x reader |

-the fans are speculating on the nature of your and alessia’s relationship. when the rumours come to a head, it begins to put pressure on you both. (goalie!reader)

𓂃 ✿ white lies alessia russo x reader |

-five secrets alessia could keep (and one she just couldn’t)

𓂃 ✿ are you flirting with me alessia russo x reader |

-Things that Alessia Russo is good at: football, looking like a goddess, taking your breath away by simply existing.

Things that Alessia Russo is bad at: staying upright, flirting.

𓂃 ✿ price tag alessia russo x reader |

-When Manchester United sign you for big money, it takes you a while to settle in. Luckily you have Alessia by your side to help you overcome your worries that you’re not worth the price they paid for you. 

𓂃 ✿ fangirl alessia russo x reader |

-alessia old tweets reappear of her crushing one the reader

𓂃 ✿ sleepwalking alessia russo x reader | a little angsty

𓂃 ✿ possession obsession alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ thirst tweets alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ cookie clicker alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ love lasts alessia russo x reader |

-They had won the euros, you watched as some of them cried and others celebrated but all your focus was on her.

𓂃 ✿ silenzio bruna alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ lessi's sunflower alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ drunk in love alessia russo x reader |

-fell in love with drunk lessi and it became a fic

𓂃 ✿ number one fan alessia russo x reader |

-you play football and she comes to all your games.

𓂃 ✿ jumpscare alessia russo x reader |

-Would it be possible for you to do a fic where the reader goes for one with alessia but a really scary one?

They can be going to the escape room as a date or as friends that have been secretly in love with each other?

𓂃 ✿ alessia blurb alessia russo x reader |

-DANCING IN THE KITCHEN WITH LESSI WHILE ITS RAINING OUTSIDE

𓂃 ✿ ‘cause all that you are (is all that i’ll ever need) alessia russo x reader | some angst and some fluff

𓂃 ✿ Alessia fic alessia russo x reader |

-Mapping out your lover's features while they sleep in your arm, smoothing your thumbs down their cheeks, throat, collarbones, chin and nose.

𓂃 ✿ teasing alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ butterfly alessia russo x reader |

-Brody Armstrong once said: "When you meet someone for the first time, that’s not the whole book. That’s just the first page" and she’s totally right. When you first met Alessia you didn’t know that quote, you could barely speak let alone read but over the years, when got older, you started to understand it. The day you met her, the first page was written and your story began. Now, Alessia and you have been together for 9 years, 3 of them married and it‘s still not finished.

𓂃 ✿ alessia blurb alessia russo x reader |

-house hunting in saint albans with Less, finding the right house and then r and less just having a moment at the front door where Less just is quiet and looking at the interior r hugs her from behind and Less is a bit homesick and stuff but r invites tooney and joe round without less knowing to make her feel more at home

𓂃 ✿ i know that you love me (even when i lose my head). alessia russo x reader | fluff

𓂃 ✿ the striker and her wingman. alessia russo x reader

-nervous lovestruck lessi >>

𓂃 ✿ the wrangler alessia russo x reader | leah williamson x reader

-less and Leah and reader thruple blurb. both the blondies are injured but being their stubborn selves refuse to take it easy and non football player reader is like pulling her hair out trying to wrangle these two ADULTS who are being like whiny children and refusing to do what she asks

𓂃 ✿ kiss me through the phone alessia russo x reader |

-a face time with alessia would be like whilst she’s in Australia and the readers at home because of work. Full of fluff and them just happy they get to talk to each other after a hard day, saying how much they miss each other

𓂃 ✿ passenger princess alessia russo x reader |

-Alessia and reader are in a relationship and come into training arguing about something that the team can’t figure out

When asked reader simply replies with “I’m NOT a passenger princess”

𓂃 ✿ 1 - but she loves me, she loves me. alessia russo x reader |

-series masterlist

𓂃 ✿ finalist alessia russo x reader |

-World Cup fluff. Alessia has no idea you're on your way to Australia to surprise her before the final.

𓂃 ✿ 2 - why the hell she love me alessia russo x reader |

-series masterlist

𓂃 ✿ not meant to be alessia russo x reader |

-in which; alessia's girlfriend is always there for her. always.

𓂃 ✿ intruder alessia russo x reader |

-when you wake up to a strange noise you begin to freak out. So you wake up your girlfriend and you both go to speculate. Who’s in your guy’s home?

𓂃 ✿ chance encounters alessia russo x reader |

-you and Alessia meeting in Ibiza and she’s got the hots for you but you play hard to get? but a cute happy ending where they eventually get together

𓂃 ✿ alessia blurb alessia russo x reader |

-After coming home from work/a long trip, finding your lover sobbing on the couch/in bed after a hard day, wiping away their tears with soft touches and gentle words--trying to convince them it's okay, and that you're there for them now.

𓂃 ✿ everyone thinks that they know us (but they know nothing). alessia russo x reader |

𓂃 ✿ toilet paper party alessia russo x reader |

-some tooth rotting gf lessi fluff to try and cure all of our post game depression, with a dash of supportive best friend and arsenal icon lotte wubben-moy ofc

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #arsenal wfc #fic recs

[moncherellie]

water polo player! abby

a/n: hey!! i know i said id be posting for ellie first but this thought hasn't left me for a month. i love the though of this oh my god i am feral. thanks for reading! rb or comment to support a lil fic author :) also i'm gonna be referring to water polo as a super gay sport and that's because it is xoxo i mean high contact with buff women. like.

-content/warnings: 1.4k, mentions of contact sport violence, smut scenes (strap, riding abby, nickname 'beautiful', semipublic sex in a locker room, fingering, oral (both receiving), gn reader but has a pussy, mentions of roughhousing in water/ drowning (not really drowning but yk)

men dni.

water polo is one of the most intense sports- it's high contact, rough, with a high probability of being punched, getting a black eye, etc

but when you're as buff as ms abby anderson here, it's not as big of a deal

there aren't really many set positions in wp, but the most important one is center- placed front-and-center of the goal, they're the person everyone looks to to get a good shot

center has to be dependable, strong, and fast

abby is perfect! her drive is amazing (ahem ahem) and she's constantly swimming like crazy to get into position so her team can rely on her

she started in high school, learning the ropes and getting to know the sport

got crazy good, and was definitely a very proud varsity athlete. she knows she's good, so why shouldn't she flaunt a bit?

im gonna be honest she absolutely wore her varsity jacket for way too long during freshman year in college

she joined her collegiate team (possibly on a small grant/scholarship) and met the most amazing team

it's hard to be queer in sports a lot of the time, but her entire team is queer/allied!! she has a space to be herself which she really appreciates

she blossoms on that team

every girl at her college absolutely drops their panties for her im not even kidding. its not even that fun to her because she just wants someone to love, not just a hookup

((that doesn't mean she rejects them all though))

the pretty center draws crowds to the natatorium

and that includes you, of course

you're a friend of the goalie and you're not all that into sports, but once you hear that the hot girl you've been thirsting over in org. chem is there?? it's all over, goodBYE

you are seated right in the action, front row of the bleachers, cheering in school colors, pretty eyes glimmering in the bright sun, sweat drops dripping down the front of your shirt

abby is fully focused on her game but when she's benched she gets a liiiiiittle distracted ngl

like i said though, she's mostly game face

but after a win? she feels like she's never lost. she's pure confidence and she decides to keep the streak going and see if she can successfully get your number

it's slightly awkward because when abby gets closer she sees that wow you are so much more attractive than she first thought when she had chlorine water in her eyes

so she just doesn't ask you out lolol she bails and bugs the goalie about you for the week leading up to the game, asking who you are, if you're coming next time, if you like this or that

her hands are so large and strong from gripping that ball... just imagine what they could be used for !

her thighs are absolutely massive- she has to stay above the water somehow, and the kicking she has to do has sculpted her into a thunder-thigh goddess

eating her out is insane because she fucking clamps down on your head with her thighs LMAO

broad shoulders that you can hold while riding her

strong shoulders that you grip and squeeze onto for dear life every night before a game as she plows into you for "good luck"

-the room is filled with the rhythmic slapping of her skin against your thighs as she grips your hips and bucks up into you.

"taking it so well for me, huh? my little good luck charm..." and you can't say anything. you just whine as you feel every muscle in her body working overtime to treat you just right

the veins in her forearms throb and pop out as she bounces you up and down, touching and squeezing and groping everywhere she can. she looks up at you cheekily, biting her lips and grinning. "there we go, beautiful, look 't you go"

"i'll be sore tomorrow" she says. it isn't a complaint. she says it's her favorite workout

yeah she says she's done but she's also finger fucking you in the locker room during half-time

-"sorry coach, i'll be quick, i promise!" abby lifts herself out of the pool with pure upper body strength, muscles tensing and water dripping off her like some kind of lesbian wet dream. when she promises haste, she means you'll be quick, because you know the drill. you're already amongst the rows of lockers as abby pushes you against them, sliding past your underwear and shoving her fingers in. her thumb is on your clit, middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot immediately and going at it relentlessly. "think you can do 5 minutes for me, beautiful?

-you can because she won't accept anything else. you're cumming all over her fingers, groaning at the overstimulation as she fucks you through it. when you're done, she pulls out, inserting her fingers into her mouth and cleaning them. you shoot her a playful dirty look as she jogs back out the locker room door

-"thanks for the pep talk, babe!" girl.

she wins every game and says it's because of you

it's sweet, but she's just that good of an athlete

but if you met her because you play too? oh get ready for a whole 'nother world

you're her defense during practice, in the trenches with her and jumping over her shoulders to make sure she doesn't get the ball

but she'll do petty shit to fluster you, like turning and kissing your shoulder and holding your hand in the middle of wrestling for position like ???

-"anderson!" the team captain reprimands. she gives a cheeky smile and puts her game face back on, pinching your thigh underwater where nobody can see

water polo players' love language is straight up drowning people. like the coach yells for everyone to meet him in the corner of the pool and instead she's fucking barrelling toward you, wanting to pull you under

when you're waiting to practice throwing the ball into the goal, she'll slide under the surface and tug at your ankles to pull you

when you come back up, she's giggling like a child and acting like it was another teammate

-"abby, i know it was you, you idiot!" you say, grinning

despite not really having jerseys like in other sports, abby will have you wear her team merch with logos

you wear last year's team shirt to bed, her flannel pants to class, her two-piece tops when you go to the beach with her

you go crazy for her when she's in her polo suit. they're tight so that players can't get grabbed, but it's tight in all the right places

it showcases abby's broad shoulders and slutty waist, curving around her chest and tastefully contouring her back muscles

thank god for this sport, you think

she always complains about how the suit rides up her butt, giving her a slight wedgie, but it gives you perfect access to her tight ass

smacksmacksmack

-"can you hold off for one minute, babe?"

-"no."

it's like there's no person attached to that ass. and she's just as obsessed with yours dw! she uses those big hands to grasp your entire cheek and land a harsh slap! on there that makes you jump. she just smiles n laughs

water polo! abby who takes you out to dinner after games and ends up stealing your food because "ohmygodbabeimsohungryyoudontevenunderstand"

it's like she's never eaten

speaking of eating... (im sorry)

she will throw your legs open when she eats you out. if you try to shut them she'll use the full force of her forearms to pin your thighs down and dig her face deeper in your pussy, sucking and licking like a woman starved

who wrote that. i didn't. anyways..

you put her hair up in a fishtail braid for her !! then she'll ask you to put her swim cap on and give you a cute smile when you screw it up

-"i fucked it up! sorry!"

-"babe it looks great" while she's tucking all her shorter hairs into the bottom of it

if her team is winning by a lot, she'll mess around a bit and point at you after she scores a goal, and you roll your eyes and your face feels hot because she's so ridiculous

but you do feel a lil special.

anyways water polo abby mi amor :3333 take me in the locker room

#abby andedrson x reader #tlou x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x reader flluff #tlou2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x gn reader #gender neutral #abby anderson smut #wlw #moncherellie writing #the last of us 2 fic

[misshoneyimhome]

would you be willing to do a Joseph Woll smut? maybe his girlfriend losing her virginity to him. i feel like he’d be so sweet and caring in the prep and aftercare but the next morning she’s craving joseph again

Well, of course, love! Although, I have to admit, I'm really not that great at first times, apparently - at least not in my opinion 🙈

I tried to keep to soft and romantic, but perhaps I made it too soft? 🤍

Anyway, I still hope it's enjoyable 🌺

Warnings; smut 18+; first-time, reader losing her virginity, fingering, protected sex (p in v);

Word count; 4K (it was not intended to be this long)

・✶ ｡ﾟ

The First Time | Jospeh Woll ⚡️🌺

Joseph Woll - Quite possibly the friendliest guy around, and he happened to be your boyfriend.

Being a tad older than you, you weren’t entirely sure why he'd opt to be with someone like yourself. Joe was a skilled hockey goalie, and with his genuine kindness, he could easily charm any young girl. Meanwhile, you were just a young woman trying to find your way through grown-up life.

Yet there he stood, Joseph Woll, with his gentle gaze and soft smile, choosing to be by your side. It had only been a few months since you officially became a couple, but it felt as though you'd known each other for an eternity. Every moment spent with him was brimming with joy, warmth, and a feeling of belonging.

You often found yourself pondering how lucky you were to have him in your life. He was more than just a hockey player; he was your confidante, your staunchest supporter, and your rock. And now, as you sensed your relationship blossoming, you couldn't help but wonder where this journey would take the two of you.

**

You’ met Joe in a charming café in Toronto, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and fate orchestrated a serendipitous meeting. With your arms burdened by books and papers, you stumbled clumsily, causing your belongings to scatter across the floor. And in the midst of this chaos, Joe emerged like a knight in shining amour, swiftly coming to your aid.

With a friendly smile and a gentle demeanour, he assisted in gathering your scattered possessions, his presence quelling the embarrassment that threatened to engulf you.

Handing back your books, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Looks like you could use a hand there," he remarked, his voice warm and comforting.

Blushing slightly, you nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, I'm usually not this clumsy though," you replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He simply smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries, happens to the best of us."

His smile was utterly captivating. His brown hair tousled just right by the occasional breeze from outside, and his prominent ears giving him an endearing and charming appearance.

"Well, thanks anyway," you said sweetly, but for a moment, neither of you seemed to step out of each other’s way.

Joe wasn’t entirely certain why he felt so drawn to your gentle manner, but a small part of him wished fervently that this moment with you could stretch on indefinitely. So instead of letting it fade, he chose to take a leap and prolong the conversation.

"So… you’re into pianos?" Joe suddenly inquired, his brows furrowing with curiosity as he glanced at one of your books.

“Oh, well, yeah, it’s kind of a New Year’s resolution, but I haven’t really managed to play much,” you admitted shyly.

“Well, I happen to play the piano myself, and I know quite a bit about it. If you don’t mind, I could join you for a drink and share some insights?” he proposed, indicating the empty seat opposite you.

"Sure, I'd like that," you replied, a touch of excitement fluttering in your chest.

And so, amidst cups of steaming coffee and shared laughter, your dialogue flowed effortlessly. From exchanging thoughts on your favourite books to swapping anecdotes from your lives, you found yourselves completely absorbed in each other's company, the hours slipping away unnoticed.

**

Joe had naturally been the most romantic gentleman when your relationship began. Following your initial meeting, he'd been nothing but considerate, arranging a proper date at a cosy, intimate restaurant. True to his gentlemanly nature, he picked you up and drove you home, focusing solely on engaging in heartfelt conversations and deepening your connection.

On subsequent dates, he whisked you away to museums, followed by more coffee outings. Then, on the fourth date, he extended a heartfelt invitation to his home to cook you dinner. He even serenaded you with a few tunes on his piano, creating an atmosphere straight out of a fairy tale.

His approach was unlike that of most men you'd encountered in recent years. They were typically the stereotypical frat boys, fond of getting drunk and hitting on young women, often resorting to groping. While many of your friends may have been drawn to such individuals, you shared no such inclination.

You preferred to keep to yourself, finding solace in the simple joys of curling up with a good book and savouring a cup of tea. And this suited Joe perfectly.

You weren't one to partake in wild nights out clubbing every weekend or engage in promiscuous behaviour. Instead, you possessed a depth that made you far more intriguing. Always composed and serene, you listened to Joe with a peaceful smile, your laughter like sweet melodies.

As weeks evolved into months and your bond with Joe grew deeper, you found yourself increasingly at ease and secure in his company. Yet, one aspect remained a source of insecurity for you. Though not entirely uncommon for someone your age, discussing the topic and admitting the truth still felt awkward: you were a virgin.

And aware of Joe's past relationships, you knew that he wasn't.

But what troubled you most was the longing to confide in him, even though you were unsure how to broach the subject. You had a strong feeling that Joe, being the kind-hearted person he was, would never judge you. The challenge lay in finding a way to mention it, as casually as possible.

You thought about the issue for some time. However, on your next date, where Joe had once again invited you over for homemade pasta and relaxed piano lessons, it seemed as though fate had decided the moment had arrived.

After enjoying the most simple and romantic dinner a man had ever prepared for you, you found yourselves nestled together on the sofa, your favourite TV show playing in the background.

On the third date, Joe had given you a quick peck as he escorted you to your door. And by the fourth date, your kisses had grown slightly deeper. However, tonight, you felt a longing for more – yet Joe, always respectful, was almost frustratingly so. You didn't want to come across as too eager, but as soon as his lips met yours, you were captivated and craving more than just a fleeting kiss.

And as you cuddled on the sofa, you found yourselves irresistibly drawn into each other's arms, sharing a sincere, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced in sync as you gently explored Joe's mouth, your fingers twined in his hair while he held you close.

He positioned himself half on top of you, mindful of his larger build, as your legs entwined with his. And it was then that you felt it. Through his thick jeans, you could feel his member growing firmer with the escalating intensity of the kiss, and suddenly, a new sensation enveloped you. Something you had only felt in solitude - a rush of desire.

Easing back a little, you broke the kiss, allowing both of you to catch your breath.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked tenderly, earning a slight nod from you. "So, what's on your mind?" he asked softly, locking his pleading gaze with yours.

Feeling a bit apprehensive about expressing your thoughts, yet also buoyed by a surge of confidence, you decided to speak up. After all, he must be thinking the same thing, judging by the noticeable bulge.

"Um, well…" you began slowly. "You... um... you're turned on?" you half inquired, half stated as gently as possible, not wanting to embarrass him. But Joe remained unruffled. Instead, he simply chuckled softly, briefly glancing down before returning his gaze to you.

"Oh yeah... sorry, I can't really help that, this um, this just feels really good," he admitted softly, a broad grin spreading across his face.

And you couldn't help but smile too. "It really does…"

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence as you pressed your lips together, maintaining eye contact with the man above you.

"Are you sure? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable," Joe expressed once more, his concern and kindness shining through.

But you simply shook your head gently. "You're not… I just…" Once again, you hesitated for a moment before revealing your true desires. "I just haven’t… ever… done something," you softly admitted, feeling your cheeks slowly flush.

And once more, Joe offered nothing but a gentle smile. "y/n, you don’t have to feel embarrassed about being a virgin…"

His words eased your anxiety a little. "Really?"

"Of course not! Honestly, I can only respect that choice, y/n," Joe added tenderly. "Just promise me you'll tell me if I ever cross a line…"

"Oh Joe, you're not! And to be honest, I really do want… more… it's just… I don’t know how," you admitted once again, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe remained silent for a moment, considering how to proceed. It was no secret he desired you; his body language spoke louder than words after all. Yet, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel pressured into something you didn't want.

"Well, if and when you're ready… I'd like to show you."

**

Joe had insisted on waiting a few days before taking things further, wanting to ensure you felt ready and not pressured. Which you had reassured him countless times. And finally, the night arrived when you would share your most intimate self with him.

You had naturally heard a lot from girlfriends, so you had some idea of what to expect, yet you couldn't help but feel a little nervous. You'd be completely naked, and Joe would touch your most private areas.

But of course, he had gone out of his way to make you feel at ease. With candlelight and soft piano tunes, he had set a comfortable atmosphere at his home, aiming to keep it romantic and gentle.

And he had succeeded. As soon as he gently took your hand and led you to the bedroom after a casual dinner, all sorts of anxiety washed away. He was nothing but sweet and caring. Guiding you to lie on the bed, he kissed you deeply, his hand gently cradling your face as your lips moved together. His tongue politely sought permission to enter, and you welcomed it eagerly.

You felt incredible under Joe's touch. The way he carefully moved his hands around your body, gently massaging you as he pulled you closer to him, felt nothing short of amazing.

And Joe took his time with you, making sure you felt at ease as he kept the kiss deep and passionate, gradually feeling himself becoming aroused too.

Then, breaking the kiss momentarily, his eyes locked onto yours. "Are you certain about this?" He asked softly, to which you gave him a sweet smile and nodded.

"Yes, Joe," you replied, your voice soft and tender, yet tinged with excitement. With your consent, Joe positioned himself between your legs, kneeling as he guided you to relax completely. His gaze remained fixed on you, ensuring he would notice any hint of discomfort.

Then, gently, he began to move his large palms up under your shirt, feeling your smooth skin against his soft hands, before he encouraged you to sit up slightly so he could pull your shirt over your head. As you sat with your breasts exposed in your lacy bra, carefully chosen for the occasion, Joe remembered to kiss you again.

Giving him a smile, you signalled for him to continue. Still with his lips on yours, he used his skilled fingers to unclasp your bra. Although it looked good on you, Joe wanted to feel your skin against his. Your breasts were perfectly round and your nipples hard, indicating your arousal. He then guided you to lie back down as he slowly moved his lips to your neck, placing gentle kisses while his hand massaged your breast.

"Does that feel nice?" Joe murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a delightful shiver through you.

"Y-yes," you muttered, feeling yourself yielding more and more to him.

"Good, just relax," he spoke tenderly, before shifting to the other side of your neck and attending to your other breast with his hands.

"Mmm," you softly moaned, surprising yourself as you melted into his touch.

Being with Joe was truly wonderful. Already, you felt remarkably at ease under his touch, and you almost couldn't wait for him to proceed further.

Yet he maintained a leisurely pace. With care, he withdrew his tantalising lips, moving to kneel beside you, before he located the button on your jeans with his fingers. Skilfully, he unfastened them and slowly pulled them down your legs, revealing your matching lacy underwear.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment at being so exposed to Joe, yet somehow, he made you feel comfortable, creating a calming atmosphere in the room.

Returning to your lips, he gently planted another kiss. "If it makes you more comfortable, you can slip under the covers while I undress," he suggested, his voice incredibly soothing. And with a soft nod, you complied, while he slowly undressed as well, revealing his erect member.

You couldn't help but gasp as you beheld his size, proudly standing against his lower torso. It appeared quite large to you, though lacking any real comparison. All you could ponder was how it would fit inside you, as you had only experimented with your fingers a few times, and they didn't even come close to his dimensions.

Joe seemed to sense your slight astonishment. "Don’t worry, I'll make sure you're comfortable," he reassured you, returning to the mattress and joining you under the covers, where he once again connected your lips in a tender kiss.

Gradually, you relaxed once more, his calm demeanour rubbing off on you with each passionate motion. And as Joe slowly moved to remove your final piece of fabric, exposing your heat to him, he broke the kiss, yet keeping his gaze fixed on you at all times. Carefully, he encircled his long fingers around your core, smoothing your skin as he inched closer to your sensitive flesh.

Then reconnecting your lips, he delicately trailed his fingers between your folds, gently caressing your sensitive bud and lightly probing your entrance. You released a small breath, briefly breaking the kiss, before resuming as you felt the pleasurable sensations he was inducing.

And only when Joe felt you were completely at ease did, he let his fingers tenderly stroke your clit, sending small sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, intensifying the kiss as you felt a new wave of excitement beginning to build.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" He whispered softly into the kiss, and all you could manage was to moan in response. "Good…"

Joe couldn't help but relish the way you lightly moaned and shifted under his touch. All he desired was to ensure he brought you pleasure, and from the way your fingers tangled in his hair, he took it as a positive sign.

Breaking the kiss once more, he pulled back to observe your expression while gently applying a little more pressure as he circled your clit. Then noticing your moans becoming more rapid and uninhibited, he sensed that you were experiencing the pleasure he aimed to provide you.

And indeed, you were. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened as Joe continued to tease your nerve endings, and soon you felt your legs trembling lightly, losing all sense of control. Your hands shifted to grip onto his shoulders as the intensity within you heightened, and soon you realised this must be what an orgasm felt like.

"Oh… Joe…" you softly moaned, closing your eyes tightly as he maintained a steady rhythm, bringing you closer to climax. "Yes…"

And before long, you felt a small spasm wash over your body, as you allowed yourself to succumb to the moment, your mind enveloped in a blissful haze.

Joe couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the pleasure, he was bringing you. "Did you enjoy that?" He chuckled lightly, though he already knew the answer, as he withdrew his fingers slightly.

"Yes," you simply breathed out as you slowly came down from your high.

There was a tender moment lingering, yet the air was thick with steamy desire. Then, with his eyes still locked onto yours, Joe slowly let his fingers slip further down, gently stroking your moist flesh as he approached your entrance. He studied your face, ensuring you still felt relaxed under his touch.

And when he noticed your controlled breathing, he slowly pressed a finger against your opening, gently pushing as he felt your tight walls around it.

“Mmm…” you moaned softly. Even with just one finger, it felt much better than anything you'd ever tried on your own.

And Joe felt rather satisfied with how well it was going, how wet you were, which had been part of his intention when bringing you to climax first. And as he observed your face showing small signs of pleasure, he slowly added a second finger, ensuring it felt good while also gently stretching you.

Despite feeling his own arousal building, his cock throbbing and slick with pre-cum, his primary focus was on your need. And as he felt your wetness coating his fingers, your walls tightening around his digits as he stimulated you, he thought that you might be ready for him soon.

Your fingers lightly dug into his shoulders as you savoured the pleasurable sensation of his fingers inside you. However, the more he massaged your insides, the more you yearned for him. Another small knot was slowly forming in your stomach once more, and now as you understood what it meant, you felt an even deeper desire to be satisfied.

“Joe…” you softly mumbled between moans. “Please, I want you…”

And your wish was his command. “Alright,” he whispered in your ear, before gently withdrawing his fingers from your core, leaving you feeling a bit empty, yet filled with anticipation.

Then kneeling back, he leaned over to the nightstand where he retrieved a condom packet, carefully tearing it open before sheathing himself. Your eyes followed his every move attentively, your core patiently waiting to be fulfilled.

Hovering over you once more, Joe positioned himself in missionary, his gaze still locked on you as he aligned himself with your entrance. “Let me know if it hurts,” he spoke firmly, earning a nod of confirmation from you. Your hands found their way to the back of his shoulders again, your eyes deeply connected with his as he slowly eased his length inside you.

“Oh… God…” you muttered under your breath as his member stretched your tight walls.

Joe felt nothing but pleasure as he filled you up, slowly reaching the very depths of your insides before he paused. Both of you needed a moment to catch your breath; you were overly stimulated, while Joe needed to exercise restraint. The sensation of you around his sensitive member was heavenly, and he felt a surge of pride being the first one you let in.

“I’m going to start moving, okay?” he softly inquired, earning another nod from you. And then very carefully, he withdrew a little before pushing back in, and then again, very slowly. Your nails almost dug into his skin as you felt the exquisite stimulation of his cock against your walls, your mind drifting into another blissful haze and your vision slowly blurring.

And Joe soon found a steady rhythm that brought you both pleasure, still slow and cautious as he didn’t want to overwhelm you. However, as your moans gradually grew louder with every thrust, he found it increasingly difficult to hold back. Gradually, he began to increase the pace, your wetness allowing him to slide in and out effortlessly.

“Mmmm… yes, oh…” he muttered under his breath as he rocked his hips against you, his cock throbbing with every motion. Similarly, you felt your core dripping and pulsating as he made love to you.

“Joe… Mmm… I think- I think I’m going to…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as a rush of pleasure coursed through your mind, body, and soul, his length guiding you to another orgasm, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the euphoria once more.

Which only brought Joe closer to his own climax as your tight walls clenched around him, his pace picking up once more. He had to close his eyes as well as he felt himself about to reach the peak, and with a few more thrusts, he finally let out a deep grunt and surrendered to his climax.

“Oh yes…” he moaned loudly, allowing himself to thrust slowly and deeply a couple of times as he released into the latex.

There was another moment of silence as you both regained control of your breaths, your hearts beating faster as you slowly returned to reality from the euphoric state.

Pearls of sweat had formed on Joe’s forehead, his eyes opening again to meet yours in a romantic gaze.

“Was that alright?” he softly inquired with a crooked smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Joe, it was absolutely wonderful,” you flashed him a satisfied smile. And for another few seconds, you allowed yourselves to just enjoy the intimate moment.

“Good…” he returned your satisfied smile. “Just try to relax, sweetheart, and I’ll be right back,” he informed you with a soft tone before carefully withdrawing his length from your core. Offering him a nod, you watched as he walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

And while he was cleaning himself up, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness wash over you. Your mind still basking in bliss as you reflected on tonight and how sweet and gentle Joe had been, how understanding and caring he had shown himself to be.

It hadn’t been painful at all, contrary to what some of your friends had warned. Instead, Joe had taken his time to ensure you felt nothing but pleasure, even bringing you to your very first two orgasms.

As you lay there in the romantic yet passionate ambiance, a smile played on your lips. And as Joe returned to the bed, he wore an equally contented smile, a damp cloth in his hand, which he delicately used to help you clean your juices from between your legs.

It was nothing short of an amazing evening, the way Joseph helped you explore your own body and desires, followed by him offering you a t-shirt to sleep in and whispering sweet nothings as you simply lay in his embrace. You chatted for a brief while, both of you wearing broad smiles, as he tenderly caressed every inch of your body, still ensuring you felt relaxed and comfortable even after making love. And as satisfaction filled your mind and body, tiredness descended upon you both, and gradually you drifted off to sleep in each other’s warm embrace.

**

As morning slowly crept in, you still felt a lingering sense of pleasure in your core. And what made your early smile widen even more was waking up spooning with Joe, his large frame enveloping you, while his morning wood pressed against your back.

And sensing your slight movements, Joe also slowly stirred from his slumber.

“Morning,” he softly murmured into your hair, planting a gentle kiss as he held you close.

“Morning,” you replied with a husky morning voice, before turning around in his arms, your tired gaze meeting his.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, I think we both know I slept wonderfully,” you let out a light chuckle. “How about you?”

“Hmm, I slept well too, especially with you in my arms…”

You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes remained locked. “Did you have any… uhm, dreams about me?” you inquired, slightly mischievously.

“Hmm, not specifically,” Joe chuckled lightly, propping his head on his elbow. “Why?”

“Oh, well then you must just be really happy to have me here…” you teased sweetly, hinting at his once again firm member tucked away in his boxers.

“Yeah, that’s kind of normal,” he chuckled again. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to have you here,” he added, smiling before leaning in for a tender kiss.

“Hmm,” you hummed into the kiss before pulling back slightly, your mind filled with desire for the man lying beside you. “Well… maybe… it deserves a little attention…” you sweetly suggested.

“Oh, you're already up for round two?” Joe grinned playfully, pulling you a little closer to his warm body.

“Maybe…” you admitted softly. “I guess it was just that good…”

And Joe couldn’t exactly disagree with you. Flashing you a flirtatious smile, he then kissed you again, this time in a deeper and more passionate manner, before pulling apart.

“Well, then I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting, miss,” he said with a smile before attending to your desires with a playful chuckle.

#my asks #18+ smut #joseph woll smut #joseph woll imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey imagine

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 7 (Arsenal)

No. 7: “ “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

“Y/N?? Y/N, can you hear me?” Katie says loudly, tapping your cheek, “c’mon kiddo, you need to wake up.”

A mistimed attempt at a redirection of the ball from the goalie had ended up getting you right in the temple. You had crumpled to the ground limply, unmoving. Your teammates had raced across the field as they watched the events unfolding, making it to you quickly. 

Fans and opponents alike were surprised to see the usually calm and collected Viv laying into the goalie who had knocked into you. Everyone was even more confused by the fact that Katie ‘Red Card’ McCabe wasn’t threatening anyone. 

Katie had been the first one to your side, dropping to her knees. Her hands hovered over your body, desperately needing to touch you but terrified of hurting you. Eventually, one hand comes to rest on the top of your head, the other culling your cheek. Here, she taps firmly yet gently while calling you, hoping for a response. 

In the stands, Rue is unable to breathe. She watches as Katie and your other teammates are crouched around you, your body unmoving. The medics are quickly making their way over, but it seems much too slow. To the woman watching as her girlfriend tried to arouse their surrogate daughter after a major head injury, the medics seemed to be crawling. 

Rue grabs her bag, rushing down the stairs and into the building. She easily navigates her way through the stadium, finding herself in the tunnel before long. Here, she can see you as opposed to a video feed of you, and this allows her to relax just slightly. When she notices your face scrunched in pain as you move slightly, the panic in her chest alleviates as she gets confirmation that you’re alive. 

Katie is simultaneously trying to control her breathing as she helps the medics to transfer you to a stretcher. She has the most important job- keeping you calm. She takes this very seriously, murmuring softly while keeping a constant hand on you. You’re confused and in pain, whining as your wide eyes search frantically around for answers. 

Katie’s thankful when she sees Rue in the tunnel, knowing that she’s expected to stay on the pitch as much as she hates it. She walks with the medics, pausing just before the sidelines and whispering directly to you. One hand is still cupping your head, the other having been grabbed tightly in your frightened panic. She rubs her thumb across your cheek in a goodbye, squeezing your hand three times as a silent ‘I love you’ before pulling away. 

You’re quickly carried all of the way off of the pitch and towards the tunnel. Katie watches as Rue replaces her as soon as she’s able to. Knowing that you’re in good hands, she returns to the game with a new fire lit inside her. 

—-

Katie runs off of the field at the final whistle, not staying to talk with the other team or cool down. Instead, she takes off down the tunnel, weaving through hallways until she finds the door she’s looking for. She doesn’t bother knocking, swinging the door to the medical room open. Shockingly, her eyes first find Rue perched on the medical table. A slight look down answers her questions, finding you cradled snugly against Rue. Rue’s chin is resting on your head, holding you close.  Your eyes are open, looking at the motion in the doorway. Your lips tilt into a smile when seeing the Irish woman appear. 

Katie hurries over, climbing on the table to sandwich you between them. Despite the injury and the uncertainty, you’re calm as you’re supported between the women. 

#woso imagine #woso imagines #womens soccer #woso x reader #woso #woso soccer #reader insert #arsenal women #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #katie mccabe #ruesha littlejohn