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wyattjohnston · 9 months

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never said a thing - pierre luc dubois

summary: everyone knows that luc wants a trade... you're just the only person he hasn't told directly.

word count: 2,667

main character: gender neutral reader

note: this is a very very late pinch hitter fic for @pcttymcrlecu as part of the summer fic exchange 2k23. thank you for your patience!

i had to fudge the timeline because i didn't realise luc's trade request happened post-season. i really feel like it happened before the trade deadline

You’d known about Luc’s trade requests before you met him—the entire city of Winnipeg, the province of Manitoba and the entire NHL fan base knew. It was inescapable, just like it had been when he was moved to Winnipeg after requesting a trade out of Columbus.

You were happier about the first one, less so about the second and that only got worse as time went on and the official third one came.

Meeting Luc wasn’t anything you’d planned but had still taken longer than you’d expected it to. Winnipeg wasn’t small, though it certainly wasn’t the largest city, and everyone seemingly had some sort of connection to the Jets—even if it was a Six Degrees of Mark Scheifele sort of deal.

A friend of a friend knew where the younger Jets players liked to spend their free time, as if that wasn’t widely known by everyone in their 20s anyway, and you found yourself in the same bar as Luc, Logan and Jansen.

You found yourself at Luc’s house a lot after that.

Nobody seemed to mind the weird, nebulous state of your relationship—situationship is probably the best word to describe everything that you were. It hadn’t mattered, not really, that you showed up at Luc’s house at the first text with little care for the time he sent his you up? text because he was always just as quick to show up when you sent him a photo of your empty bed without any words to accompany it.

It was always You and Luc, even though there was no You and Luc.

The trade request rumours go unmentioned in the time you spend together—the first alleged request being negated by a one-year contract and the second, the most recent, never coming up. You couldn’t forget them, though. You caught yourself looking at Luc when his back was turned, hoping you could will him to talk to you. Hoping he would explain the request. Hoping he would tell you directly.

Time passed, though, without any mention from Luc that he no longer wanted to be in Winnipeg. Without any mention that whatever You and Luc were had an expiration date.

The Jets lost four games in a row, ending their season in the first round of the playoffs. It hurt because they’re your team—a crushing disappointment especially after winning the first game so soundly and taking game 3 to second overtime—and you watched every game from start to finish.

It was another turning point in your situationship with Luc. As much as you were always a text message away, Luc never asked right after road trips. You never expected him to. It was a boundary set in place that you were more than happy to adhere to.

Except.

The text wasn’t even the usual you up? but an explicit come over that had your heart rate spiking. It was the most direct either of you had ever been and you didn’t know what it meant at all.

He’d barely arrived home when you were buzzed into the building if the suitcase at the door was any indication. He looked exhausted, standing beside the intercom with his forehead pressed against the wall.

You didn’t wait before moving towards him, your footsteps disgustingly loud in the otherwise silent apartment, and pressed your forehead into the space between his shoulder blades.

In a hoarse voice, muffled by the wall he was leaning against, Luc asked, “When’s it my turn to win?”

He wasn’t crying, something you were grateful for because you knew you were ill equipped to deal with it, but he may well have been. The sagging of his limbs, so tired and dejected that his muscles weren’t even tense, and the defeat in his voice were foreign to you.

“What do you need from me?” you asked, unable to think of anything else and not wanting to make a wrong move and upset him even more.

He signed, his entire body shaking with it, and admitted that he just wanted to go to bed.

You agreed, despite it being far from what you’d gone for. Moving him was easy; he put up no resistance as you led him down to his room. You’d never seen him so low, never moved him so easily, and, as many times as you had undressed each other in that very room, taking his clothes off was the strangest part of it all.

He helped you undress him in so much as he moved his limbs when he needed to, but he was very much just doing as he was told.

“You’ve got so many more years in you, Luc,” you said when you were finally laying in the bed.

“It never feels that way.”

Waking up in Luc’s bed wasn’t strange by any means, nor, quite frankly, was the morning wood pressed against your lower back. Being the familiar territory that it was, you roused Luc from his sleep and started your morning the right way.

He was visibly happier than the night before—or, maybe not happier but definitely less noticeably distraught—and falling into old habits was simple and welcomed by both of you. The closeness, physical and emotional, something he needed judging by the way he held you through breathy moans.

It wasn’t until you were showered and sitting at his kitchen island with a coffee as he got ready for end-of-season interviews, grumbling as he moved throughout the house.

Your timing probably wasn’t the best, waiting until you were standing at his front door saying goodbye just before he fronted the media, but you had never shied from the hard conversations. Even if you delayed them until the last—often worst—possible moment.

“I’ll see you when you’re back for training camp?” you asked tentatively, wringing your hands in your lap.

Luc hesitated for so long that you thought he might never say anything. He couldn’t meet your eye when he said, “Yeah. End of August, probably.”

You watched him carefully, scrutinising the painful casualness of his response, the lack of any giveaways that he was lying or that he hoped what he was saying wasn’t true.

You knew too much, though.

His casual demeanour faltered as you met him with an equally long silence—you weren’t hesitating for any reason other than to make him uncomfortable.

He shifted his feet and looked everywhere in the room except at you. He was opening his mouth to speak when you finally decided to keep talking, cutting him off.

“Are you ever going to talk to me about requesting a trade?”

Luc’s demeanour changed from confused to defensive immediately when he asked, “Do I need to?”

“I mean… yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. “You were really just going to leave for the summer and never come back?”

“I—” The colour drained from his face. “Yeah.”

With your hands pulling at the bottom of your hoodie, you felt your heart rise into your throat. There wasn’t anything else for you to say, which was a blessing because if you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure what would have come out.

You nodded once, stiffly, and then again after a beat before you let the barstool screech against the tiles as you stood. He didn’t make any move to stop you as you grabbed your purse, and you could feel him staring as you walked out the door. You cursed the apartment building for having quiet closing doors when all that would have made you feel better was hearing something slam behind you.

June came and went, July disappeared as quick as it arrived and August… well August dragged on painfully.

You worked through the perfect weather and the perfect photos your friends posted of their perfect vacations. It wasn’t all that different from every other summer since you graduated and it was no different to the previous summer because you didn’t see him then anyway.

A lot of energy had been spent trying to get him out of your mind, not least because all of your work colleagues seemingly spent their every waking moment talking about Pierre-Luc Dubois and his trade request. When the trade to LA had finally happened, all they could talk about was “eight years and eight point five million, who does he think he is?” or “he’s just going to ask for another trade in 2 years so jokes on them!”

You, though? Mostly you’d been able to move past it. August rolled around and you didn’t care about Pierre-Luc Dubois.

Until, that is, you were standing in The Forks Market, ready to eat your weight in mini donuts because it had been a long, long week, and, above every other head you saw him.

You couldn’t leave in the rush that you wanted to, or at least suddenly speedrun the market, because you did want your donuts more than you wanted to leave so you turned your head, tried to hide behind some other people and hoped that he’d never spot you.

That was too much to ask for, of course.

The stall called your name and you knew that everybody in the immediate vicinity had heard it but still you collected your food and tried to make a beeline for the exit only to have your name called again.

You stopped but didn’t turn around, hoping that maybe Luc would just turn and leave but you knew that was foolish. You felt his presence as he got closer, his body so much larger than those around him that even without seeing him you just knew.

He said your name, in such a deceptively soft voice that you had no choice but to turn around, to look at him and see a sorrow on his face that you hadn’t ever expected. Definitely nothing you’d ever seen before.

“You got something to say or?” you prompted when he just continued to stare at you.

“How are you?”

You recoiled at the question, your eyebrows pulling together, followed by an eye roll so rapid that it actually hurt. Luc flinched himself but didn’t rush to say anything else.

“That’s not the conversation I want to have,” you said, brutally honest. “Especially not with you. So, I’m going to take my food and leave. Enjoy LA.”

You stepped away, causing him to stand up straighter and reach for you—but only briefly before he thought better of it. Still, he said, rushed, “Come back to mine.”

“And why should I do that?”

“I have—” he cleared his throat. “I have to talk to you and I don’t want to do that here.”

You hesitated but ultimately agreed when curiosity got the better of you. As much as you’d not wanted to think about him, it had been impossible to shake the desire for any sort of explanation.

Walking into his apartment again didn’t feel like a bad idea, but it did feel weird to see it mostly empty with packing boxes stacked against the walls. You didn’t need to be reminded that he was going—gone—and yet the reminder still had you looking away instantly back to Luc.

Luc pulled out the food that he’d bought at the market—an actual meal—and set it down on the kitchen island where the only remaining seats in his apartment were, just three barstools.

“I hope they gave you a fork because I don’t have any cutlery,” he said sheepishly.

You sat down beside him, placed your own bag down and told him, smiling to yourself, “I don’t think I need a fork to eat mini donuts.”

The laugh that erupted from him shocked both of you. You more so, you thought, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him laugh so heartily, so carefree. It ended up being the reason for your abrupt silence, the joy being pulled from you and a donut being shoved into your mouth to avoid any questioning.

He didn’t seem to notice that your laughter had stopped for any reason other than deciding to eat, so he ate his curry still smiling and starting a conversation about Ryan Gosling as Ken that you had to admit was endearing even if you didn’t want to. Your own contribution to that conversation was minimal despite how much you had enjoyed the movie in the first place.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked during a break in the conversation where Luc was getting ready to start playing the movie’s soundtrack. That was so far past normal that you had to get out of it, that you had to bring him back to the reason you’d even gone to his apartment in the first place.

Luc looked chastised as he put his phone back down on the table. He turned the stool so that he was facing you, the one stool still in between you, and all joy had fallen from his face. He reached one hand out, resting it on the empty stool, and inhaled.

“I asked for a trade.”

“So, I heard.”

“I can’t keep losing.”

“Oh,” you said, feigning sympathy, “Because the Kings got so much further than the Jets did. Understandable.”

Whatever was left of his openness disappeared, his face making it clear that he’d shuttered. You didn’t care, really, when that was the lame excuse you’d gotten.

“I don’t even care about that,” you said, waving off the poor excuse. “Honestly, I don’t care that you requested it because whatever it’s your career and your life, you can leave if you want—why didn’t you tell me, Luc? If I hadn’t asked, I really don’t think you would have told me.”

“I should have,” he admitted, without hesitation, his face relaxing into something somewhat remorseful. “I know I should have. Even if we’re just… casual, fuckbuddies, whatever we’re calling it, of course I should have told you. It just took me until you got mad for me to realise that.”

“What? You didn’t realise I was human until that moment?”

“I didn’t realise you cared.”

That chastened you quite effectively, because it was true that you’d never given much—or any—indication that it was more than just sex. Not a great deal more, at least not until you thought you were going to lose him, but enough that the friends in friends-with-benefits had clearly meant a lot more to you than it did to him. You couldn’t have expected him to know that when your conversations were limited to if the roads were okay on the drive to one another’s place.

You admitted, quietly, your eyes averted to your lap, “I don’t know if I did until I heard you wanted out. Then I thought about it at length and by the time I asked you about it… Lying to me is just about the worst thing you could have done.”

“I didn’t think you’d bring it up,” he said slowly. “I really just thought you would leave; I’d go back to Quebec and then, when the season started, I’d be somewhere else and then you asked and… I realised I cared about leaving you behind.”

Your eyes fell shut, overwhelmed by what he’d told you. You were sure nobody had ever cared about leaving you behind before. You wondered, briefly, how long it would have taken Luc to contact you if he hadn’t seen you that evening, though it was something that could be found out later. More pressing was the confession you’d just received.

Your eyes opened, and Luc was looking at you with a softness and longing that overwhelmed you all over again. All you did was laugh nervously, shyly, to yourself, and tell him, “I don’t even know anything about you that I haven’t learnt from the Jets’ broadcasts.”

“I don’t think I know anything about you either,” he confessed, unabashed. “I want to learn; if you want to teach me.”

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

i forgot i have a tag list rip (very sorry if you’ve already seen the fic!!)

@fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @laurenairay @jarmorie @diary-of-jj @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @sssstarstruck @pr3nt1ss

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #the summer fic exchange 2k23 #a patented antoineroussel ending™️#fic: kings

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ya-pucking-nerd · 10 months

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a lake house love story - r.graves

It’s here!! Summer fic exchange 2k23!! @thomasschabot it’s me hi I’m the problem it’s me (: So many apologies to go out. Sorry to @wyattjohnston because I actually suck at deadlines. #5dayslate Sorry to @thomasschabot because I had an idea for a fic, wrote it out, decided I hated it, deleted it, then didn’t write anything until July 20 (: But in all seriousness, I do hope that you love this fic

Also Ryan definitely did not get traded to Pittsburgh, it simply did not happen. If I don’t look at it, it’s not there.

No warnings, just teeth rotting fluff

Word count 1889

Spring break at Rutgers University was so anticipated because of the time of the year. Most people were tired of the snow and chill, so the need to be down in the Florida sun was almost overwhelming. But, Grace loved the chill. She was from upstate New York. She burned in the sun, and it made her nauseous thinking about spending all day in the heat. So, she decided with her friends to take a trip to Crane Mountain. They invited all of their friends, and friends of friends to help offset the cost. It ended up becoming a trip of her 9 friends plus 16 more guests.

Grace was excited. Being back in upstate New York might offset the slight homesickness she felt. Grace and her best friend Maria were planning on sharing a room and bed. Everyone was paired up and then a few people were going to take the couches.

The group left on Friday afternoon, planning on staying 10 days. The drive didn’t take too long, though her legs were grateful to be free after being cramped up in a car for so long. She took in her surroundings, then took in the beautiful cabin they were going to stay in. The cabin’s background was even more picturesque. Rolling hills surrounded the cabin along with several other cabins where fellow hikers and visitors were staying. She grabbed her bag and joined Maria to quickly claim a room. They were already sharing a bed, so they wanted the opportunity to get first pick so they’d at least get the biggest bed.

Grace had never met most of the group she was traveling with. And she felt almost certain that some of them weren’t even college students. Despite her slight discomfort, Grace was determined to have a good time. Spring break meant no worries about school. Her senior year was coming to an abrupt close, and she just needed this break to find her peace again.

Her face kind of fell when Maria informed her that almost every room besides the master was filled with two beds, so they’d be sharing the room with at least one other person. They would simply have to make do. They spent the next half hour unpacking their necessities while waiting for someone to discover that all the rooms were taken except this one.

In walked a 6’5” man who looked just as startled as Grace and Maria. “Sorry, everywhere else is full. I can take the couch if you want…” he trailed off. Maria started to tell him to get the heck out of their room, but Grace grabbed her hand. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She didn’t even know his name, but she held out her hand.

“I’m Grace. You can have the bed, just if you need to change, use the bathroom. And let us use this room to change.”

“I’m Ryan. And I can definitely do that. Thanks.”

Maria gave Grace the “what are you thinking” look, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t quite sure what she was thinking. She thought he was attractive, and why shouldn’t she get to spend the next 10 days looking at him?

Grace decided to explore the property a bit more. She slipped on a jacket just in case the air turned chilly while she was out. She started down the path towards the pond. She definitely wanted to make good use of it. There was a paddleboard rental station close by. She just knew that would be the most perfect place to watch the sunset. There were so many hiking trails to explore, and the group was planning on taking a sunrise hike at least once.

She came back from exploring and found that some of the guys in the group started on dinner. It smelled so delicious, and she took a seat near the end of the table. Since she didn’t know many people, she figured she could sit with Maria. But Ryan had other plans for her that evening. He grabbed the seat to her left, and shot her a smile while grabbing some dinner rolls. He held one out to her, and she was so shocked, she didn’t take it right away.

“Earth to Grace? Sorry, I just know how hectic this bunch can get when it comes to food, and I wanted you to get a dinner roll before they all disappear,” he laughed. Maria decided to walk in at that moment, and upon seeing Grace with Ryan, she sat on the opposite end of the table. But to her surprise, Grace didn’t even notice. She felt at ease with Ryan, which isn’t a thing that normally happens. They talked all through dinner, like it was just the two of them, not a room of 25 people.

Dinner moved into the backyard of the cabin where a fire was slowly starting to burn. Adirondack chairs and blankets littered the grass around the fire and mini-conversations carried on from dinner. Grace and Ryan moved out onto a blanket further away from the fire to keep their conversation private.

“So how did you get invited on this trip?” Grace asked.

“One of my buddies is dating a girl that was invited on the trip, and he asked if I would come so he could know someone else. Funny thing is, I haven’t seen him since the ride up here. And they took the room with one bed, so I couldn’t crash with them.” He was a bit sheepish about his last statement. “But, I’m glad they did, ‘cause I wouldn’t have met you.”

“I’m glad to have met you, too.”

The night carried on until Grace and Ryan realized they were the last two outside. They giggled and snuck inside, trying their best not to wake anyone up. He kept his promise, changing in the bathroom while Grace changed in their room.

Grace climbed into bed with Maria, but quickly realized that this arrangement would not work. Maria was a small girl, but a huge bed hog. She left Grace about nine inches of mattress to work with. Grace tried to make all nine inches count, but she just couldn’t. She silently resigned herself to sleeping on the floor. She threw her blanket onto the floor as a makeshift area. She found her second blanket and took a pillow from under Maria’s head. It wasn’t the world’s comfiest bed, but it would do.

In the middle of the night, she heard Ryan get up to use the bathroom, but she quickly fell back asleep.

In the morning, Grace woke up in a bed. She was so startled, she jolted up. Taking in her surroundings, she saw Maria in their bed, and she saw her blankets on the floor. And Ryan in them. She was in Ryan’s bed. At first she felt horror, but then it changed to awe. Ryan must have pulled her up and sacrificed his back. She had no idea why.

She gently nudged him with her foot. “Ryan,” she whispered. He grunted softly, but turned towards her. After he wiped the sleepiness from his eyes, he looked at her with the biggest puppy-dog eyes. Grace had to admit, it was pretty adorable.

“I just didn’t want you to have a sore back. I saw you on the floor, and I just couldn’t leave you there.” He was sheepish, but she knew he would do it again.

“But what about your back?” Grace was still fighting the sleepiness in her voice, which made it a little raspy. She hoped that Ryan would say something like “I’ll be fine.” Instead, he completely surprised her by saying, “You keep the bed. I’ll take the couch. I definitely can’t sleep every night on the floor, but you deserve a bed.”

“What? No. Ryan, this is your bed. Last night, Maria was just being a bed hog, and I didn’t want to push her over. It’ll be better tonight and for the rest of the trip.”

Over the next few nights, it kept happening. After a fun day of whatever activities, Grace and Ryan ate dinner together, sometimes with Maria, and then they would be the last to turn in for bed, thus Grace would find Maria being a bed hog. She would swear up and down to Ryan that she was fine taking the floor, but she’d always wake up in a bed and Ryan was always on the floor.

On the last night, Grace and Ryan were talking on the Adirondack chairs again, talking about how much it was going to suck going back to their real lives.

“You’re a university student, right? Where do you go?” Ryan asked. He was sipping a beer, feet kicked up onto the table in front of them. He looked like a dream.

“I am. I go to Rutgers, the Newark campus. It’s been so great, but I’ve been trying to get my name out there for a job, and it has not been successful. And I have to find a place to live. I went on this vacation to kind of clear my head and re-energize because I’ve been so stressed.”

This was music to Ryan’s ears. “I’m in Newark, too! We should hang out more when we get back. I’ve really enjoyed this past week with you. And, if you’re looking for a place, you can stay in mine. I have an extra room. You don’t have to pay rent either. I’m all good.”

Grace’s jaw almost hit the floor. He was being so generous. And she almost couldn’t say no. It was the perfect offer. But, she had to. She barely knew the guy.

“What? Ryan, no. I can’t ask you to do something like that. I was just complaining. I’m going to figure it out.”

“Grace, I’m serious about it. I’m already there. And I like you a lot. I’d like to see where life takes us.” His smile was shy but so adorable. He wasn’t able to quite make eye contact with you. Grace felt her heart flutter. Butterflies and fireworks and all the movie cliches. Her cheeks must be tomato-red by now.

“I like you, too, Ryan. I’m really happy we met. And that you came into our room.”

“Let’s head to bed, yeah? We have a lot of traveling tomorrow.” He held out his hand, which Grace gladly took. Together, they walked back to the cabin, smiles as wide as anything.

When they got to the room, Ryan pulled Grace into a hug, and whispered into her ear so he wouldn’t wake Maria up, “You take the bed.”

“Only if you cuddle me.” Grace whispered back, shocked at her forwardness. She wasn’t known for being the type of person who asked for what she wanted.

Ryan nodded his head and said, “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m a great cuddler.” And he really was. Grace climbed into his bed, and immediately felt the warmth he radiated. He wrapped his arms around her. The next morning, they woke up to Maria’s gasp. “Guys! I knew it!” She was beaming ear-to-ear. Ryan kissed Grace’s forehead, and whispered, “I could get used to this.” He winked at her before rolling over to answer what would undoubtedly be Maria’s onslaught of questions.

~fin.~

Tagging some moots to enjoy :) @typical-simplelove @jostystyles @2manytabsopen @fallinallincurls @imagines-r-s @islesnucks

#ryan graves #ryan graves fic #emma writes #nhl fic #new jersey devils #nhl #hockey #hockey fic #please read it would mean a lot to me (:#summer fic exchange 2k23

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