#tyler seguin x you

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: my @wyattjohnston winter fic exchange fic for @senditcolton (whose writing i am OBSSESSED with - praise you like i should made me see the light on matty t) 🥰 i’ve never written for tyler seguin and my only familiarity with him was him showing his own headshot to get into the arena which immediately made me love him lol. i had fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 12.1k

tw: drinking , fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, hangovers, mild cursing

summary: new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

After your divorce papers are signed, sealed, and delivered - on Christmas day no less, leave it to your jackass ex to find the only lawyer in the entire Fort Worth area willing to work on a national fucking holiday - your best friends appear at your front door with suitcases, bottles of champagne, and round trip tickets to Las Vegas, leaving on the 27th.

“No,” you tell them flatly, arms crossed over your flannel shirt, hair in a three-day old knot on top of your head. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere, much less Vegas.”

You hadn’t even taken your parents up on the offer to pay for a plane ticket back home to New York for the holidays. It was too much to face them after your marriage had imploded and getting the third degree from your relatives wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. Spending the holidays alone had seemed like a better option, even if the day had been a little lonely. But a spiked hot chocolate and a string of Christmas movie classics had kept you from getting too depressed.

“Honey,” Nora says, in her Christmas sweat set, the cartoon Grinch blazoned across the front giving you a nasty smirk, a patient smile on her face, “now is exactly the time to get away. You just shed a hundred seventy five pounds of jackass, you need a distraction.”

She muscles past you and nearly drags her rolling suitcase’s wheels over your bare toes. You pull your foot back and lean against the wall as Katie and Nic follow her inside, a makeshift parade to celebrate your divorce. Nic at least has the decency to shoot you an apologetic look as she passes, whispering, “I tried to get her to settle for a little trip to a spa, you know, manis, pedis, massage. But you know Nora…”

“Never Takes No for an Answer Nora,” you finish when Nic trails off, smiling a little despite yourself. Nic gives you a little smile and bumps your hip with hers.

“Seriously though,” she says as you close the door behind her, “if you really don’t want to go, Nor will understand.”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, I…it’s probably good for me to get out of town,” you admit reluctantly. It’s been a depressing few months, full of anger and tears and tense phone calls and curt emails. You’re tired of being sad, of being angry, but mostly you’re tired of being in the same city as your asshole ex-husband. Even though you moved out of the house you shared and into an apartment, the entire city holds reminders of your relationship. Now that the divorce is official, you’re starting to wonder if staying in Fort Worth is the right move. Your friends and your job are here, but the risk of running into Jason is astronomically high and maybe a change of scenery would be good. You rub at your forehead - that’s a problem for the new year.

The girls leave their suitcases in a pile in your front hall. Two pairs of Nikes and a pair of Ugg platforms join the suitcases and you’re pulled into a pile on your couch - the college tradition for a broken relationship. Back then it had been cheap wine coolers and binge watching The Bachelor. Now, Nora hands you a bottle of champagne, cheers when you pop the cork, and drops her head to your shoulder after you take a huge gulp. You drape your legs over Katie’s lap and rest your cheek on the top of Nora’s head. It’s not the way you thought you’d be spending the holidays, but you’re so grateful for your friends.

“In about an hour, we’re going to start helping you pack,” Nora says, taking the second bottle of champagne from Nic and swigging from it. “But right now, it’s time to tell us every single negative thought you’ve had about Jackass Jason and didn’t want to say before.“

“Have to cleanse the energy,” Nic says, “by putting all his negative traits into the air and I’ll light some sage.”

“Sage?” You lift an eyebrow, warm and cozy in the cocoon of your friends.

Nic digs into her giant purse and pulls out a wad of sage, tied up with white string. She beams. “Sage! It’s very cleansing.”

Katie cackles a laugh. She kicks Nic’s thigh lightly and grins, “never change those hippie ways, Nicky.”

“Pass me a lighter,” Nic holds out her free hand and wiggles her fingers. Nora drops a well used plastic Bic onto her palm and you lean in to cup your hands under the sage bundle. The last thing you want is ashy smudges on your couch.

It takes two tries, but eventually Nic manages to get the lighter to catch and she holds the flame to the top of the bundle. It immediately starts to smell of the burning herb and smoke rises to the ceiling when she blows out the small fire. You cough a little, the scent of sage stinging your nose. Nic rolls off the couch and begins to wave the stick around, explaining what she’s doing as she goes.

“So, we’re getting rid of all of Jason’s negative energy and karma,” she waves the stick and you wince when a little clump of ashes falls to the carpet and then sigh when Nic’s bare foot grinds them further into the fibers.

“Jason never lived here,” you point out reasonably, the bottle of champagne lighter in your hand as you take another drink. Your chest already feels lighter and less knotted with grief and anxiety.

Nic looks at you like you’re an idiot and you feel strangely chastened, taking another swig from the bottle. “Honey, his negative energy and toxicity was absorbed by you and all the stuff you took from the house. We have to just, like, get his energy out of here.” She cocks her head at you, squints, asks, “would you consider cutting your hair? Hair holds onto a lot of trauma.”

“No!” You yelp, hand flying up to clutch at the knotted mess on top of your head. “I thought you were the ones to talk me out of breakup bangs when he first left? Now I’m supposed to cut my hair?”

“Just a suggestion,” she says, even as the other two chime in from the couch to encourage a change in your hairstyle. Nora mentions a bob and you resist the urge to kick her.

With a roll of your eyes, you say firmly, “I’m not cutting my hair. Let’s move on from this.”

Nic nods and finishes sageing the apartment, leaving a faint haze of smoke in the air and you’re honestly very grateful when she puts the bundle in a ziploc bag and stashes it back in her purse. “Okay,” she beams, dusting off her hands, “bad energy officially cleansed. We can move onto the fun part!” She drinks from the bottle that you’ve mostly emptied on your own and before you can ask what the fun part is, you’re being pushed into your bedroom and the girls are rummaging in your closet for your suitcase.

They work in coordination, while you’re sitting stupid in the middle of your bed, to throw your skimpiest clothes into the opened suitcase. You watch as a colourful array of fabric is tossed from your drawers and wonder what, exactly, they have planned for the trip.

“This one, for sure,” Katie’s voice is muffled from deep in your closet. Her hand appears, the mirrored minidress you bought and wore for the Eras Tour swinging from its hanger. The mirrors sparkle under the hi-hats in your room and throw discs of light onto your bedroom walls.

“What are we doing in Vegas?” You ask finally, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I mean, I love that dress, but can’t this just be a chill trip? Like what if we just got tickets to see Adele? And I can cry to her music?”

“Absolutely not,” Nora shakes her head and Katie shakes the dress at you again. “We’re going to get you to forget about the jackass and the divorce one way or another. Whether it’s drinks or dick, that’s your choice, but you deserve to let loose after taking care of him all these years.”

“Besides,” Katie pipes up, “how good do you think we are that we could get last minute Adele tickets? That shit was sold out months ago!”

Tears prickle at your eyes, your nose burning a little. Divorced at 27 isn’t exactly how you pictured your life going after meeting Jason in college, getting married at 22, and supporting him all throughout his time in law school, but you’re beyond grateful for your girls.

“No dick,” you murmur, a shaky smile on your face. “I’m not ready for that, but drinks I can do.”

The trio cheers and starts tossing more clothes into your suitcase.

——

The next day is spent nursing your mild hangover and repacking the drunken mess you’d all made of your suitcase the night before. Once you’re packed to your satisfaction - mirrored mini dress and platform heels included - you run out for a quick wax before meeting the girls for a manicure.

“I meant to say it last night,” you say watching your crusty old gel polish disappear into dust, “but let me know what I owe you, for the flight and hotel and everything. I’ll Venmo you.”

Nora waves you off, apologising quickly to the manicurist when she complains as Nora’s hand is ripped away. “Don’t even worry about that. I used miles for the flights and -“

“The guy I’ve been seeing?” Nic cuts in. “The hedge fund guy, Mark, he’s treating for the hotel suite.”

Katie’s eyebrows shoot up along with yours. Clearly she didn’t know about the hotel connect. “Whoa,” she grins, “Nicky with the high roller! Hold onto him with two hands.”

Nic blushes. “He���s really sweet too.” She continues talking about him for a few minutes until she stops herself and looks at you with wide eyes and an apologetic expression. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here I am rambling on and you’re going through -“

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You cut her off. “I’m okay! I want to hear about the guys you’re dating. Just because I’m single again doesn’t mean I want death to love for everyone.” You snort a laugh that sounds a little forced even to your own ears. The girls share a look that you hate, but continue talking about the dates they’ve been on and the mediocre sex they’ve been having. Truthfully, you tune them out a little bit, cranky about the divorce, about the trip that was sprung on you, and embarrassingly enough, jealous that they’re having sex at all.

Even before Jason started the divorce proceedings six months ago, it had been nearly eight months before that the last time you had sex. You should’ve realized he was seeing someone else on the side because there was no way he had gone that long without sex. And yet. You’d been caught off guard by the cliched texts found in his phone, the lacy thong found in his car, and the divorce petition delivered to you while he was “working late.” Thinking back on it, you feel supremely stupid.

Now that the paperwork is signed and you’re officially, legally single again, you’re just glad you didn’t have kids or anything really significant to fight over. It’s almost a blessing that the process wasn’t as drawn out as it could’ve been.

You make a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Jason from your mind and try to be in the moment, a task made easier once you’re in the air en route to Vegas and then actually in the city itself. It’s both like the movies and not, colorful and loud and a little sketchy. But you immediately make twenty bucks on a slot machine in the airport, so you figure that’s a good omen for the trip.

The first four days of the trip pass in a blur - all you can eat buffets, drinking, dancing, spas, too little sleep, and too much gambling. You’re up nearly three hundred dollars after being down almost a thousand the day before, so that’s cause to celebrate with drinks. Not that you really need an excuse - you’ve had more alcohol in the last four days than in the last four months. You’re exhausted, but you’ve also laughed more than you have in a year and your face hurts from smiling. The entire city has a numbing effect on your lingering emotions and you feel yourself starting to rediscover who you were before the Jason of it all.

“Time for the mirrorball dress!” Nora singsongs, dancing around the suite in her plush robe. It’s New Year’s Eve and the city feels even sparklier than usual. The streets have been packed with people and the casinos are at capacity - apparently there’s a hockey game tonight too, so the sports bettors are having a field day. You’ve been going to different hotel bars and clubs the past few nights, but tonight is the big night out before you fly back to Texas tomorrow night.

The entire Strip is shut down to traffic for the night and you’re planning on going to TAO for dinner and dancing since it’s inside the Venitian, where you’re staying. It’s a major splurge, but fuck it, you’re about to get alimony from your corporate lawyer ex-husband. You still have Jason’s credit card, so you’re fully planning on putting dinner on his tab, before he realizes that the card is in your possession. For all the little details Jason remembers, he’s surprisingly bad about his finances.

For now though, you dig your hand into the pillowcase that had been full of the little shot sized bottles of alcohol four days ago and is now mostly empty. You groan when you pull out a little bottle of Pink Whitney, the pink lemonade vodka is your least favorite drink. You knock back the shot while the girls cheer you on, all three of them already in various states of tipsy. It honestly feels like you haven’t been completely sober since you left Texas.

Nic blasts a classic 2000s playlist while you’re getting ready and you dance around the huge suite, feeling light and floaty.

It’s complete chaos out on the Strip, even though it’s barely after 7. You could’ve gotten to the restaurant directly through the hotel, but you decide to walk outside for a bit to see what’s happening. It’s chillier than you expected, so by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re more than ready for a drink and dinner. You fill up on sushi and expensive drinks, gossiping about people you knew in college, spilling some more of the more extreme details of Jason’s cheating when you’re finished with your third TAO-tini.

“FUCK HIM!” Katie shouts in the middle of the restaurant, drawing attention to your table. You giggle and shush her drunkenly, waving a hand to get her to lower her voice. “No,” she shakes her head, only marginally quieter, “you really are so much better than that douche. When we get downstairs, we’re finding a man and you’re fucking him!”

Nic giggles and leans a little sideways in her seat, “new dick to cleanse Jackass Jason from your vagina!”

You flush with embarrassment as more people look over, but thank god the waiter comes by with the check. You toss Jason’s platinum AmEx onto the little dish and grin wickedly as you tell the girls, “dinner was on Jason.” They cheer and Nora laughs, “I should’ve ordered another drink!”

Once the bill is paid, with a generous 30% tip added, you traipse downstairs into the club part of the restaurant. The lights are low and the music is loud, plenty of people already drunkenly dancing just three hours before midnight. Nic and Nora join the fray immediately while you and Katie detour off to the bathroom quickly where you fix up your makeup and fluff up your hair, inspecting your face in the mirror. You look tired, but there’s a spark in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed was missing in the last year of your relationship with Jason.

“I’m serious,” Katie says, her solemn tone betrayed by the slight slur to her ‘s’. “Pick a guy in here and I will make sure you fuck him. You deserve a little fun.”

“I have been having fun,” you assure her, your reflection grinning at hers. The alcohol is making your brain pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts drifting away as easily as they come. “I don’t need a man right now,” you continue. “Even for the night. I just want to dance.”

“Okay!” Katie chirps, grabbing your hand and pulling you back out into the club. “Let’s dance!”

And you do. You find Nic and Nora and for a handful of songs, the four of you are jumping and screaming and having a blast.

Sweaty and thirsty, you break off from the girls and wobble towards the bar, weaving in between the throngs of people. The line for the bar is two or three people deep, so you settle in for a wait, looking around the room and people watching. The crowd seems pretty typical for New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, but your gaze lands on a group of men and your heart skips a beat.

There’s at least four of them huddled together, maybe five, and you know you’re drunk, but you didn’t think you were drunk enough to be seeing double. You blink and they come into sharper focus - not seeing double, just two incredibly handsome, dark haired and bearded men. Another dark haired man with no beard and a curly haired blond man. They’re all in slacks and white button downs in various states of unbuttoned, like they came from the office or something. They don’t look out of place in the club though, with drinks in their hands and the way they’re grouped together.

They’re laughing and shoving at each other, like overgrown frat boys, and you can’t look away. You’re captivated by the way they hold themselves, clearly confident in their bodies. Even in the dark of the club, you can see the faint outlines of ink through the white fabric of one of the guys’ shirts.

You’re still staring like a creep when the tattooed guy turns and looks directly at you, making and holding eye contact. A little gasp slips from your lips and your stomach flips, the familiar and nearly forgotten feeling of arousal sparking to life in your stomach. His friends shove at his arms, laughing. You blink and look away, feeling shaky and not from the alcohol. A faint flutter between your legs has you pressing your thighs together. “This is stupid,” you mutter to yourself. Ten seconds of eye contact shouldn’t have had you reacting like this. Yes, it had been a while since you last had sex, but jeez.

You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose and nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, unfamiliar voice says, “what are you drinking?” right in your ear.

“Oh!” You turn, stumbling just enough that a hand shoots out and grips your elbow to steady you. A warm, broad hand. Attached to a tanned, tattooed forearm. Attached to a broad chest barely covered by an obscenely unbuttoned white shirt - tattoos and chest hair exposed and making your body react. Attached to the dark haired man you had made eye contact with. You blink up into warm brown eyes and ignore the way your stomach clenches up. His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow and your skin feels like it’s on fire.

His mouth, full lower lip and thinner upper lip surrounded by a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, quirks up at the corner. “In case I wasn’t clear,” he says and you can hear the laughter in his tone, “can I buy you a drink?”

A faint smile touches your own lips and you nod. “Double vodka cranberry,” you say, voice a little raspy from screaming along to the music.

Mystery Man nods, smiling, “good choice. Come with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he slides his hand down your forearm and laces his fingers with yours to pull you behind him while he uses his broad shoulders to muscle past the crowd around the bar. When you reach the bar, he does a quick maneuver, dragging you in front of him so you’re sandwiched between the bar and his chest, heat pouring off his body. He leans forward a bit, pressing against you, and catches the bartender’s attention. Your entire body feels too warm, the thin fabric of your thong growing damp from the solid mass of his chest against your back.

“Double vodka cranberry for the lady,” he orders. “And double scotch on the rocks for me.”

His forearms come to rest on the bar top, trapping you in the circle of his arms. The alcohol is lowering your inhibitions and your intrusive thoughts win out and you arch your back a little, pressing your ass into his crotch, turning your head to look back at him. He wears a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t feel like a threat, doesn’t feel like someone you should be afraid of. You lean a little closer to him, something crackling in the air between your bodies.

Something flitters across his expression, but you’re just this side of drunk and can’t manage to identify it before it’s gone. “Tyler,” he introduces himself, trailing a finger over your arm and up to your shoulder where he plays with the thin silver strap holding your dress in place. “Not a stranger now.” Goosebumps lift on your arms as his fingertip twists in the skimpy strap. His gaze is searing, flickering from your eyes to your lips to the hint of cleavage exposed by the draping of your dress. Your nipples tighten under the fabric, pinching almost painfully.

You offer up your own name in return, taking the drink directly from the bartender when he returns. You sip at it and it tastes stronger than a double or maybe that’s just Tyler’s proximity that’s clouding your senses.

He takes a sip of his own drink and leads you away from the bar, giving you another opportunity to watch his back muscles move under his shirt as he works his way through the crowd. A gym rat, you think, with the way he’s all lean muscle and quiet strength. He’s muscled, but not disgustingly so.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” He asks, when you’re alone again, just off to the side of the bar. You can see the girls out of the corner of your eye, staring at you with matching ‘you go, girl!’ expressions on their faces. You giggle a little.

“Celebrating,” you reply vaguely, taking a sip of your drink and fluttering your lashes. You’re flirting, you realize. You haven’t flirted with anyone since Jason. The bubbly feeling in your chest expands and you smile up at him.

“Huh,” he laughs warmly, “what do you know, me too. And the only thing my night was missing is a pretty girl.”

Alcohol fuels your confidence, along with the hungry way Tyler’s gaze takes in your body, and you reply, “good thing you found me then.”

Your gaze lingers on the notch of his collarbone, the dusting of hair over his chest, the dark lines of his tattoos. Your cunt gives an enthusiastic throb and you swallow heavily.

Tyler leans in a little and you catch a whiff of spicy cologne mixed with the scotch on his breath. This isn’t his first drink of the night either. “Would your friends mind if I monopolized your time tonight?”

Biting your lip, you look over at the girls. Katie is moving her hand near her mouth in the universal sign for blowjob and Nic is giving you the biggest, most encouraging puppy dog eyes. Nora flashes you a double thumbs up, spilling some of her drink in the process. A laugh huffs through your nose and you look back up at Tyler, “no, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Good,” his smile is adorable, his hand lands on your waist, and you completely forget why you told Katie you weren’t interested in a hook up tonight. “Want to dance?”

You’re not quite sure how it happened - one minute you were dancing with Tyler, one of his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hips gyrated against his pelvis, the hard bulge of his cock obvious every time you moved and the next minute you found yourself pressed up against a wall in the VIP section of TAO, with Tyler’s tongue deep down your throat and his hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingertips playing at the hem of your dress. Your hands are fisted around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close as you can while you moan into his mouth and cant your hips towards his, spreading your legs a little to encourage his hand’s exploration.

His fingertips make contact with the soaked fabric of your thong and you whimper, knees going weak. Tyler’s lips turn up in a smile against yours and he uses more pressure, finding your clit easily through the fabric until you have to pull back and gasp for air, your head thrown back while you pant.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, kissing a trail down your jaw and over your throat. “You’re fucking soaked.” He sucks gently at your pulse point, your heart hammering in your chest.

He slips his fingers under the fabric, rough pads of his fingers catching against your slick folds. “Oh my god,” you mutter, grinding against his fingers. “More, please, Tyler.”

He obeys, thumb catching on your clit and middle finger teasing at your entrance before sliding inside easily. A whine catches in your throat and it feels so good, too good. Between the alcohol and the lust and the months long celibacy, you’re at the edge of an orgasm in less than a minute, dripping around Tyler’s fingers before you can even process that you’ve come. White spots dance in your vision and it could be the strobe lights or the searing pleasure from having your clit rolled between Tyler’s thick fingers.

“Good girl,” he grins against your neck, beard and teeth scraping against your skin. Your face already feels rubbed raw with beard burn, but you don’t want him to stop. “Think you can do it again?”

Truthfully you think that you’re so worked up and horny you could come just from Tyler looking at you, but you nod and squeak out a yes.

Tyler bites a mark against your collarbone and drops to his knees, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and forcing them apart. He looks up at you from between your legs, dark eyes even darker with lust and a wicked grin on his face, “hold on, baby, gonna make you see fireworks for the New Year.”

You laugh at the corny line, choking off into a prolonged moan when he buries his face between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your cunt, the wet heat of his tongue pressing your damp thong into your sensitive clit.

You’re beyond thankful for the darkness of the VIP area and the loud music because you can’t contain the noises that Tyler’s drawing from your mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair - fuck, it’s so soft - and hold his face up against your cunt. The other hand reaches blindly for the magnum bottle of champagne you’d been sharing. Technically it’s the second bottle and it’s more than half gone when you tip it up to your mouth for a drink.

“I - ah! I don’t usually doooooh my god, right there - this,” you gasp, writhing over Tyler’s face. His nose is pressed against your clit and his tongue is flat against you, licking with purpose. You grind against his face, making sure the tip of his nose rubs against your clit.

“What,” he pulls back with a wicked grin that only grows when you whine and try to push him back in place with your grip on his hair, “get your pussy licked?”

The bottom half of his face is glistening in the strobe lights and you feel the blush rise on your chest knowing that your body did that to him.

“Um, yes,” you admit quietly, “and the whole, uh, stranger in a club thing too.”

His smile turns a little soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy to be your first then,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and lifts your leg so it’s draped over his shoulder and you’re spread even wider for him. You’re impossibly exposed to him and all it does is make you wetter. Tyler tilts his head back a little and opens his mouth, you instinctively pour some champagne into his mouth, the both of you laughing when it splatters onto his face and shirt, making the white fabric nearly see-through. He wipes a little at his face, fingers scraping at his beard, and he shrugs. “Was gonna get all wet and messy anyway.”

He holds his champagne covered fingers up to your face and you lick at his skin, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and letting them rest on your tongue for a moment before he pushes them a little further past your lips, until saliva is dripping down his palm.

Tyler’s head is back between your legs, a strong hang gripping at your thigh, his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucks at the swollen bud and your leg kicks out, the heel of your platform smacking against his back with an audible thunking noise. He grunts into you and you moan an apology, his fingers falling out of your mouth so you can take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles fizz on your tongue and burn going down.

He buries his wet fingers into your cunt, curling and pumping, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear you with how loud the music is in the club. You grind your hips against Tyler’s face and feel him smile, the coarse hair on his face scratching against your inner thighs when you subconsciously try to close your legs around his ears.

“Gonna kill me,” he pulls back and mutters, nipping at the junction of your thigh. You jolt when his hands squeeze at your asscheeks, the scrape of the sequins on your dress adding more overwhelming sensation. He adjusts your thigh over his shoulder, his other hand trailing down your leg and wrapping around your ankle. He pulls back a little and you whine at the loss of sensation. “I like these,” he says, his fingers tapping against the sparkle of your platforms. “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.”

You laugh, about to deny that this is going any further than the club, when his mouth is back on your cunt, tongue stiff and warm as he licks at your clit. All thoughts are gone from your head, aware only of the pleasure Tyler’s giving you. His hands are all over your body, fidgeting from your thighs to your ass and back again, calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

You close your eyes against the pleasure building in your body, tears pooling at your waterline. How the fuck did you go this long in life without realizing that you’ve never had a satisfying orgasm? And some random, gorgeous man in a club in Vegas is the one to satisfy you over and over? It’s a shame this is a one night thing.

—-

Sunlight streams in through the windows and you screw your eyes shut tighter, nausea rolling your stomach even though you haven’t moved. It’s like an ice pick is stabbed into your temple, the throbbing somewhere deep in your brain a harsh reminder that you’re not 21 and immune to hangovers anymore.

You press your lips together and lift your hand to rub at your temple, trying to keep your movements as slow as possible so you don’t vomit. Something hard and sharp knocks against your brow bone and you crack one eye open to see what the hell it could possibly be since you don’t remember putting any jewelry on last night. A huge twinkly diamond ring stares back at you from your finger.

The ring finger.

The left ring finger.

…fuck

Your eyes fly open and you ignore the wave of nausea and shooting headache to look around the hotel room. The unfamiliar hotel room. The sheets slide down your chest, exposing you to cold air and making you shiver. Your nipples pebble from the cold and you look down, eyes widening at the little bruises and bite marks scattered over your chest and stomach. You’re naked under the sheets save for a pair of black boxer-briefs looped around one thigh, like you tried to put them on last night and got tired halfway. The fabric is soft and worn and they’re absolutely not your underwear.

“Fuck!” You yelp, gaze landing on Tyler’s prone form in the bed next to you. He’s flat on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the other out to his side with his fingers curled in your direction. “Oh my god!”

His chest is bare, tattoos a stark contrast against the white sheets and his tan skin. He’s got purpling bruises on his chest and stomach too, marks that you must’ve left on him. Marks that make a trail from his collarbone over his pecs, down his stomach, barely hidden by the sheet that rides low over his lap.

If you’re half wearing his briefs, he’s definitely completely naked from the waist down too. Before you can comprehend the thought, you wonder if you left marks lower on his body too.

Your head is moving around like it’s on a swivel, taking in all the details of the room that you’re pretty sure is Tyler’s. There’s a black suitcase in the corner and your dress is a shiny pile on the floor. Your thong tossed over the lampshade on the bedside table. You can’t find your shoes, until you notice them at the foot of the giant bed, left in a haphazard pile and you remember, faintly, Tyler’s words from last night - “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.” They look like they were discarded in a rush, one ankle strap not even fully pulled from its buckle. His clothes are everywhere, tossed in a trail from the door that speaks to how fast you were trying to get him naked.

The hangover is clouding your brain, making it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, and you haven’t even begun to consider what the ring on your finger means. Maybe it was just a joke? It had to have been a joke.

Tyler shifts, grunting a little in his sleep, and reaches his hand out in your direction like he’s trying to find your body. His movement startles you.

“Ah, fuck!” You yelp, scrambling out of the bed, legs all tangled in the sheets. The briefs slip down your leg and tangle around your ankle. You kick your leg wildly, the black fabric going sailing across the room with the force of your kick. Frantically, you yank at one of the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrap it around yourself like a toga. Your hands shake a little.

Tyler stirs and blinks sleepily, stretching his arms over his head, giving you a show with how the black ink of his tattoos move. His gaze is unfocused when his eyes finally open, landing on your blanket-wrapped form. A slow smile graces his lips and he rasps, “hey, morning.” There’s a smudge of your dark lipstick on his cheek, partially hidden by his beard. A bruise is sucked into the underside of his bearded jaw and you notice, for the first time, the ragged red nail marks on his shoulders and biceps. He looks like he was attacked by a feral animal - and it’s a jolt to the system when you realize that feral animal had to have been you.

You can’t even find words, mouth gaping open and shut at him like a fish. Now that you’re standing, you finally stop for a second to take stock of your own body. Sticky between the thighs, sore like you’ve never been sore before - in a pleasant, well taken care of way. Your inner thighs feel raw and you know that when you look later, you’re going to find beard burn on the sensitive skin. You can already feel it on your chin and cheeks.

“What is this?” You hold your left hand out to him, the gaudy ring - because now that you’ve gotten a better look at it, it’s not a real diamond, thank god. It’s cubic zirconia or something cloudier than a real diamond and it’s a huge oval, spanning the entirety of your knuckle - glinting in the early morning sunlight.

Tyler squints at you, rolling onto his side before sitting up, either unaware or unconcerned that he’s completely naked and the sheet pools low enough in his lap that you can see the trail of dark hair leading down to his dick and the hair at the very base of him. You try to keep your eyes from looking, but he reaches a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck, making his bicep pop and the sheet move around and you’re only a woman, you can’t help yourself from looking. Your clit throbs between your legs, clearly remembering what happened last night even if most of it after getting eaten out in TAO is a little fuzzy to your brain.

“It’s a ring,” he replies simply, looking like his brain is trying to come back on-line too. He shifts his hand and his eyebrows lift. “Oh, shit. I’ve got one too.”

Your gaze lands on the band on his left ring finger. It’s yellow gold, or something cheap that looks like yellow gold, and you hate that your immediate thought is that it looks good on him. The band contrasts nicely with his skin and he spins it with his thumb, your eyes tracking the rotation.

A little chuckle slips past his lips and you blink at him. He takes in your expression and laughs outright. “Come on, you can’t possibly think we what? Got married last night?” His laugh is warm and too familiar for someone you’ve known less than twelve hours. “That’s a Vegas cliché if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shake your head. “Right, no. Yeah, I’m just being stupid. It’s just—“ you hesitate, glancing around the room again, avoiding looking at him, noticing the - oh god - four condom wrappers discarded on the floor. No wonder you’re so sore. The tenting of the sheet in his lap isn’t doing much to hide his morning wood, the shape of him obvious even with the quick little glances you’ve been sneaking. Four times. It’s a minor miracle that you’re not walking bowlegged.

Tyler stretches again and looks around for something - his clothes, his phone, who knows - while clearly not caring that the sheet is covering next to nothing. “Hey, do you see my phone?” He asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “Just wanna check the time.”

He’s remarkably chill and you’re starting to feel a little crazy for overreacting so much to silly rings bought in a drunken haze. There’s a phone on one of the little decorative tables in the corner of the room and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his, but when you pad across the room to get it, you step on a piece of paper, crumpling it under your heel. Leaning down to pick it up, you fall back on your ass in shock when your eyes land on the words at the top.

Clark County Marriage License

“You okay?” Tyler asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” you manage to squeak out the word around the block in your throat. There in black and white - your name and Tyler’s. Tyler Paul Seguin, apparently, if the document is to be believed. You feel your stomach lurch when you see the date on the license. Last night, New Year’s Eve.

How drunk had you been?

Who the hell had let you get married?

You’re so caught up in the implications of the piece of paper you’re holding that you don’t realize Tyler’s out of bed and squatting next to you, wearing his briefs, thank god.

“Whatcha got - oh,” he cuts himself off, reading the words over your shoulder. “Oh. Shit. Wow.”

He sits down on the floor next to you and you look over at him, eyes wide. “We actually got fucking married in Las Vegas,” you breathe, chest tightening in panic.

“I mean, maybe we didn’t?” He says hopefully. “That’s just a license, doesn’t mean we actually did it.” He taps his fingers absently over one well-muscled thigh, an irregular beat that you somehow sync your breathing to. With a huge effort, you drag your gaze away from his fingers - long and thick and the last you remember, stuffed up your cunt and dragging an orgasm out of your body - and steady your breathing. One hand presses against your chest, fingers digging into your skin like you could reach in and squeeze your heart back into a normal rhythm.

The phone on the tabletop starts buzzing and Tyler reaches up to grab it - “mine,” he says, glancing at the screen and jabs his finger to silence the alarm. He reaches his hand back up on the table and comes back with a handful of Polaroids. He splays them out like a deck of cards and you look at them. “Huh.”

Each picture is blurry as hell, but they’re unmistakably wedding photos. You’ve got a little fluffy veil on. Tyler’s shirt is unbuttoned past is sternum, but tucked neatly into his pants. He’s got you dipped back at the waist, kissing you dramatically. You’re on his back, holding a bouquet of flowers in the air as you kiss his cheek. He’s holding you, chest to chest, one large hand splayed over your bare back, your hand slid underneath his shirt. The Little White Wedding Chapel sign behind you and Tyler in one photo makes what happened last night unavoidable.

“I think we got married,” Tyler states the obvious and you burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. He looks at you, concerned for a beat before starting to laugh himself. It’s not funny at all, but if you don’t laugh, you think you’ll cry.

Once you catch your breath, you hiccup a little noise that sounds like a sob and carefully put the license up on the table. Tyler watches you and then glances back down at his phone, wincing at the time. “So, uh, hate to get married and run, but I have to go,” he taps his phone screen. “I’m on a flight to San Jose in an hour and I really can’t afford to miss that.”

You catch a glimpse of his lock screen and it’s a picture of him cuddling three dogs, which makes you feel marginally better because at least it’s not a woman that he’s cheating on and any man that has his dogs as his phone screen can’t be a total sociopath. A little bit of the knot in your chest unravels.

“San Jose,” you repeat, finally catching onto what he said. “Is that where you live?” You ask the question realizing you know nothing about this man that you’ve married. You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago. Oh god. You’re going to have to manage a time difference while filing for divorce. Your thoughts spiral out. Can you even get divorced in a state that’s not Nevada? You should know this, you’re probably the divorce expert in the room. He isn’t giving off divorced man energy, but do you give off divorced woman energy? You hadn’t thought about that and now it’s all you can focus on.

Tyler laughs a little, drawing your attention and stopping your panic attack. “No, thank god. I’m, uh, not to sound conceited,” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but you really didn’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You frown, studying his face. Maybe he looks familiar? But in that way that most dark haired white men look alike. You’re almost positive that you’ve never seen him before.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “This is awkward. But I play for the Dallas Stars, the hockey team? We played Vegas last night, San Jose tomorrow.”

You cock your head at him, this new information sinking in. Dallas. Just thirty minutes from your place in Fort Worth. You’ve obviously heard of the Stars, you don’t live under a rock, but you’ve never been to a game, never cared about sports enough to learn any of the players’ names. It would be a weird thing to lie about, but - “prove it.”

“Prove it?” Tyler repeats incredulously. You nod. He frowns and looks like he’s trying to make a decision. After a second, he huffs a little laugh to himself and mutters, “well, it already worked once,” before unlocking his phone and typing away on the screen. A second later he holds it up next to his face, a Google search open on the screen. A headshot - Tyler’s headshot in a green jersey - looks back at you. He grins wryly, “proof enough?” The search bar at the bottom of the screen shows that he typed in ‘tyler seguin dallas stars headshot’ and misspelled his own name as ‘tylor’ - you don’t know why, but it makes you bite your lip to smother a laugh. The little typo is endearing.

You look back and forth between the screen and Tyler, long enough that he starts to genuinely laugh. “C’mon,” he teases, putting his phone down on his thigh, “you’re a tougher sell than security at the arena.”

“Okay,” you offer him a tiny smile, “I believe you. I’m just, um, a little overwhelmed. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done it before either,” he replies, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be on the road for a bit, west coast swing, but if you put your number in my phone, I’ll have my lawyer start working on the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

He coughs a little awkwardly. “The divorce? Or annulment? Divorce though right? ‘Cause we obviously slept together,” he gestures at the condom wrappers, “so we can’t just sweep it under the rug. Like Ross and Rachel in Friends.”

“No!” The word slips out before you can stop it and Tyler frowns.

“We can annul it? My knowledge of ending Vegas weddings is pretty minimal.” He pauses and then as if to reassure you, says, “my knowledge of ending marriages in general is pretty limited too.”

“No,” you chew at your lip, “it’s still a divorce. But, fuck, this is mortifying. A second fucking divorce before I’m even 28. Good fucking job with your life.” You mutter the last bit more to yourself than to Tyler, tears welling up in your eyes. That would be the last thing you need, to tell your family and friends about this whole debacle. Literally a week after your first divorce is finalized, you go out and get married again. Drunkenly. In Las Vegas!

Tyler’s eyebrow lifts and he doesn’t ask the question he so clearly wants to ask. You scrub a hand over your face, nausea returning but you’re not sure if it’s the hangover this time or the way he’s looking at you.

“What if,” he says slowly, studying you carefully for a reaction, “what if, we just…didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” You shift, the floor uncomfortable under your sore ass. The blanket wrapped around your body isn’t the softest and you’re starting to sweat a little despite the cold air pumping into the room. Tyler’s presence next to you is becoming distracting, the movement of his chest muscles, the rasp of his voice. Your body wants more of him.

“Didn’t get divorced…” he tilts his head at you, keeps looking you in the eye, even after your jaw drops and the blanket slips a little. “We could, I don’t know, just -“

“Stay married?” You finish for him, eyebrows up in your hairline. He nods, shrugs - why not? “Oh my god.”

Tyler’s phone vibrates on his thigh and he glances down at the alarm. It reminds you that you have no idea where your own phone is and you really, really need to talk to the girls. He jabs at the alarm again and looks apologetic. “I really do have to go,” he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to pull you up. A spark shoots up your arm when his fingers clasp around yours. He doesn’t let go right away, his thumb rubbing against the backs of your fingers. “Think about it,” he looks at you more softly than you think he really should be in this moment. “You said you don’t do this kind of thing,” he continues, “but new year, new you?” The tiny smile he gives you sends your heartbeat into overdrive and this cannot be good for your health.

“Drunk married in Vegas would be a really new me,” you reply faintly. His hand finally falls away from yours and you’re mildly concerned to realize that you miss his touch. Your fingers flex at your side.

His smile doesn’t waver and he reaches out to brush a piece of hair off your cheek, fingertips lingering on your skin. “I’ll be back in Dallas in two weeks. Think about it, I’ll take you to dinner and we can just…go from there.”

He says it so simply, like it’s nothing. Strangely enough, you do feel calmer than you had a few moments ago, Tyler’s steady calm rubbing off on you.

“Okay,” you nod, repeating yourself. “Okay. I’ll…two weeks.”

Tyler grins a little wickedly. “At least we know we’re good together in bed,” he teases, kicking at a condom wrapper with his bare foot.

A laugh startles out of your chest and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I, ah, definitely agree with that,” you murmur, your entire face flaming with heat.

——

One Year Later - New Year’s Eve. Dallas. TX

Tyler greets you at the door, suited up and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin,” he grins at you.

“Mr. Seguin,” you laugh back, leaning in to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him soundly, nipping at his lower lip. When you pull back, you’re breathless. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

His hands roam up and down your back, catching in the fabric of your sparkly white minidress, sliding up under the hem to knead at the flesh of your ass. He grins wickedly when his hands don’t find any fabric covering your ass. You smirk at him and wink, giggling when he pinches a cheek.

You lean into his touch with a contented purr. If it wouldn’t make you late for your own party, you’d pull him inside the house for a quickie. You’d already had sex this morning - a wedding present, according to Tyler when he’d given you back to back, mind numbing orgasms with his tongue and dick before you’d returned the favor with a blowjob that had rendered him speechless for twenty minutes - but you would never get enough of being in Tyler’s arms.

“Does it count as bad luck if none of the guests know they’re coming to a wedding?” He asks, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Or a vow renewal, technically.”

The last twelve months have been a little insane and honestly, looking back, you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

After getting dressed quickly, Tyler had found your phone wedged in the cushions of the hotel room’s armchair. The battery was nearly drained but your screen was lit up with more than a hundred texts in the group chat with the girls and nearly as many missed calls. When you had finally called back, all three had shrieked that they were twenty minutes away from reporting you missing. You’d kept the little surprise of legally binding matrimony to yourself, but had admitted to the girls that you’d spent the night with Tyler and that he lived in Dallas and that you were going to see where it went. The flight home was full of whispered shrieking and more questions than you had honestly had answers for at the time. The gaudy engagement ring was buried in the bottom of your toiletry case, acting like the tell-tale heart, blood rushing in your head every time you thought about it.

When you got home, you’d shoved the ring in your jewelry box, determined not to think about it, but found yourself absently running the pad of your thumb over the underside of your ring finger when you let your mind wander to Tyler.

After Tyler had returned to Dallas from his two week road trip - during which you’d basically internet stalked him and spiralled out quietly about not filling for a divorce right away - you’d finally decided to give it, give Tyler a chance. He’d texted nearly every day he was gone, sending stupid jokes or a picture of something he thought would amuse you. Worst case scenario, you filed for divorce and went through the process all over again. By the time Tyler took you out for dinner at a quiet dive-y taco place in Fort Worth where you could actually hear each other, both of your memories of the wedding night had returned, although yours were coloured in a hazy film that made the whole thing seem like a fever dream.

The little ceremony had been officiated by an Elvis impersonator, another Vegas cliché, a fact that you’d learned when Tyler had found another Polaroid in his wallet when he was on the plane to San Jose. You’d cracked up when he finally showed it to you in person - Elvis in the middle, clearly past his prime, with you and Tyler on either side of him doing your best air guitar? Maybe?

“I think I’m trying to do an Elvis hip swivel,” Tyler had laughed.

“Whatever it is, it looks like we’re both mid-seizure,” you’d nearly snorted your drink out of your nose. Looking at the photographs was fun now, a little warmth building in the pit of your stomach, not the tight, nauseous coil of anxiety that you’d experienced when you had first seen them.

Other wedding details were still a little hazy, like where you had picked up the rings or what exactly the ceremony had consisted of, beyond being declared man and wife and being told to kiss and cement your “burning love.”

(What you remembered and what Tyler made sure you didn’t forget was just how good you were in bed together. The four condom wrappers on the floor were not an anomaly with Tyler.)

He’d gotten you tickets for games, right up against the glass so he could skate by you during warmups and tap his glove against the glass to capture your attention. After a few games, once you’d decided to really commit to the relationship and were official within your friendship circles, he picked up the habit of blowing you a kiss, grinning when you’d blush.

He’s really good at his job and you’re only a little surprised to find that you actually love watching him play. It’s horrific watching him get hit or tossed into the boards, but when he scores a goal and celebrates in a big hug with his teammates you’re always the first one on your feet, screaming your head off.

You’d brought the girls to a game early on in your relationship and all three of them had been surprised at how comfortable you were in the arena and how quickly you’d picked up the rules of the game. It was hard to explain that you weren’t just trying to make a regular relationship work, but a whole marriage. The stakes were just a little bit higher than usual.

The league had a break for the All-Star Weekend in early February and Tyler had surprised you with a trip to Mexico, where you’d soaked up the sun and gotten to know each other better, giving him all the sordid details about your divorce and sharing stories from your childhoods over icy margaritas and more tacos than your body knew what to do with. He’d told you about his early career, his misbehavior in Boston and how much he loved being in Dallas. The long weekend was slow and lazy, leaving so much time for the two of you to really talk and get to know each other. The experimental sex in a hammock on the beach was the icing on the cake.

After that, it was like a switch flipped and all you wanted to do was be with him. Truthfully, you sometimes forgot that you were thrown into the relationship with a marriage and settled comfortably into dating Tyler, folding each other into your lives, moving in with him, telling him you love him and hearing him say it back, cheering him on when Dallas made it all the way to the Western Conference Finals before being bounced in seven games by, of all teams, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Summer break meant a road trip to Whitby to meet Tyler’s family. A drive that should’ve been two or three days took nearly a week because you kept making random stops to see the silliest monuments advertised on the highways. You’d nearly killed him driving through Illinois, convinced this was the end of the relationship and you’d have to pull the trigger on the divorce, and then he had surprised you by stopping at a corn maze and getting lost in it with you almost immediately. Your stomach had hurt from laughing with him and making out like teenagers.

The trip to his hometown had been beyond fun, getting Tyler to show you his childhood haunts and seeing all the baby pictures of him with his mom telling you stories too.

On the drive back to Dallas, halfway through Oklahoma and in the middle of the night, while you’re pulled over on the side of the road to look at the stars, Tyler asked you to marry him. Again.

This time you had the moment committed to memory, the way Tyler’s hands had been shaking slightly with the black velvet box popped open in his fingers. The way Tyler’s speech rambled, like he hadn’t prepared anything or had forgotten his words just as he started talking, explaining how your relationship had started in an unconventional manner, but he couldn’t picture his life without you now. The way you’d started crying almost the second he had turned to you on the hood of the car with that gorgeous ring glinting at you in the moonlight and how you hadn’t stopped until he’d slid the ring home on your finger and kissed you like he’d never kissed you before.

Over the months, the wedding plan shifts and changes, from a summer wedding so you can have a real ceremony and party, the whole nine yards, to what it actually ends up becoming - a quiet inside joke with the two of you in order to keep your anniversary date, a New Year’s Eve party for your closest family and friends to be surprised at midnight when you and Tyler recite your vows.

It’s much easier to plan a party in six months than it would’ve been to plan a wedding.

Jamie Benn, Tyler’s best friend and the dark haired man in Vegas you had initially thought was just you seeing double, is tapped as the officiant, getting ordained online and getting really into his role, not knowing it’s basically all just a front. He just loves that he’s the only one in on the secret, constantly wearing a shit eating grin any time any of your other friends discuss wedding plans for a summer wedding that’s not going to happen.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces,” you admit, hooking your hand in the crook of Tyler’s elbow and letting him lead you out to the car. He does a double take when he notices your hand.

“What’s that?” He taps on the ring nestled on your ring finger. Your original wedding ring from a year ago had been replaced with a real diamond, still an oval, but smaller and more tasteful. But that’s not what you’re wearing right now.

Your lips twist up in a sly smile. The huge, gaudy cubic zirconia is back on your finger, your second engagement ring tucked safely in its box in your drawer. “It didn’t feel right to get married without it,” you admit, flexing your fingers against his arm so the fake gem will sparkle.

Tyler’s laugh is contagious. “Everyone’s going to ask about it,” he warns you.

“Let them,” you shrug. “I want to wear my original ring on my anniversary.”

Hours later, when the surprise has been pulled off and Jamie announces that Tyler may kiss his bride, you fall into your husband’s arms, kissing him with all that you’ve got.

Fireworks go off outside the venue, the countdown to midnight at less than a minute.

“Happy anniversary, wife,” Tyler grins against your lips, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

Around you, the countdown continues, seconds ticking away until it’s January first.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you whisper back, laughing when he dips you back dramatically.

The party continues well into the early hours of January first, you and Tyler having had the foresight to rent out the venue for twice as long as a normal party. You spend the night flitting between dancing with your friends and cuddling up against Tyler’s side, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your cheek is pressed against Tyler’s side, the wrinkled fabric of his button down soft under your skin. Your fingers play with the buttons, slipping them from their holes one by one until his shirt is more unbuttoned than not.

Tyler smirks down at you, his hand rubbing an arc over your hip, rucking up the fabric with each upward stroke of his hand, exposing your thigh inch my inch. “Undressing me already, wife? Can’t wait for the wedding night?” He winks at you and you laugh into his chest.

“I think that ship has sailed,” you murmur, sliding your hand under the unbuttoned shirt and over the smooth skin of his stomach, ridged muscles dancing under your touch. You yawn a little, the weird combination of overtired and wide awake making your brain buzz.

Tyler holds you close and leans down a little to whisper in your ear, “want your anniversary gift?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I thought I already got my gift this morning?”

“That was a wedding gift,” Tyler teases. “This is an anniversary gift, and no, it’s not in my pants.”

You giggle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Shame, I like what’s in your pants.”

“I’ll give you that later,” he promises, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, I stashed it in the coat closet.”

He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you off, getting stopped every few feet by someone else who wants to gush about what a great surprise the party was. “Just couldn’t wait another minute to marry her,” Tyler grins in response every time, making you laugh at his side, the inside secret of your Vegas marriage a warm fizz in your chest.

When you finally escape off to the coat closet, you try to loop your arms around Tyler’s neck and lift up on your toes to kiss him. He obliges you happily, cupping the back of your head and giving you a searing kiss before pulling away. You whine, “I thought we were sneaking off for a wedding night quickie?”

“I literally told you that your gift wasn’t in my pants,” Tyler laughs, kissing your cheek. “Why would you think I wasn’t being serious?”

Your hands find their way underneath his shirt again, fingertips digging into the muscles of his back, and drawing yourself closer to him. “Because I wanted you to be kidding,” you reply. “A little coat closet quickie would be a fun way to start the year.”

“And normally, I’d agree, baby. But I think you’re gonna like this gift,” he leans forward and reaches behind you, giving you the opportunity to press your nose against his collarbone. When he pulls back, he has a fairly large, flat wrapped package in his hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, taking the gift from Tyler as he leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The package is lighter than you thought it would be.

He nudges your foot with his, “open it.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you chew at your lower lip. Neither of you had really discussed the fact that it’s your anniversary or gift giving and now you’re a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought about it. You sway a little on your feet, fingers ripping a little at the corners of the paper until it crumples under your touch and the corner of the gift pokes through.

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t care. It’s kind of something for both of us anyway,” he says and you wait for the little joke, the tease that you can let him unwrap you later, but it never comes and that’s how you know your husband is about to make you cry with whatever this gift is.

You can feel Tyler watching you as you pull back the paper - leftover Christmas wrapping that’s so clearly been wrapped by a man, too much tape and messy folds. God, you love him - and expose a frame. It takes you a second to process what’s behind the glass, but when you do, you hiccup a little gasp and tears well at your lash line.

Behind the glass is your marriage license with last year’s date and your pair of wobbly signatures. The Polaroids you’d taken that night surround the license and you trace trembling fingertips over the image of you kissing Tyler on the cheek.

“Tyler…” your voice cracks on his name and he gives you a soft little smile.

“This year his been batshit insane, baby,” he leans into your personal space and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “But I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married.”

Tears are sliding down your cheeks and you nod, “I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married, too.”

His laugh is muffled by all the coats surrounding you, but it’s warm and it feels like home. He pulls you into a hug, the frame smushed between your bodies and digging into your stomach, but you don’t care. Tyler’s hand curls around the back of your neck and you wipe at your eyes with the back of your wrist, black mascara smudges streaking across your skin. You giggle a little wetly, “I’m such a mess, oh my god.”

“Everyone will just think you dragged me off so you could have your wicked way with me,” Tyler teases, smirking at you.

“Coat closet quickie for the newlyweds,” you reply, grinning. You settle the frame on the floor, the back of it leaning against your leg, and really wrap your arms around Tyler’s neck, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his throat. The spice of his cologne invades your nostrils and you press your nose harder against his throat, enveloped in his warmth.

Tyler rests his chin on the top of your head and hums, rolling his hips against yours lazily so you can feel the bulge behind his fly. “I could give you a real quick one, just to make sure you don’t have to lie,” he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, kissing at the hinge of your jaw. His hand slides down to graze your ass and you’re nearly ready to say yes, suddenly desperate for him, when a loud bang on the door has you jumping back, heart pounding from the shock, nearly cracking Tyler’s chin with your head. The frame bounces off your leg with your movement, falling to the floor with a little clatter that you hope isn’t broken glass.

“Fuck!” He yelps and you clap your hands over your heart, gasping. “Jesus, who is it?”

Jamie’s voice is choked with laughter as it comes through the door. There’s a slight slur to his words too, as he shouts, “stop fucking on everyone’s coats, we’re doing body shots.”

Your jaw drops open and Tyler rolls his eyes at the interruption. He bangs on the door with a hand and shouts back, “fuck off! I’m trying to spend some time with my wife.”

“Actually,” you say slowly, a little smirk forming on your face, “body shots could be fun…”

“Yeah?” Tyler lifts an eyebrow at you, palm flat on the door.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a wicked grin, “you know I like the way champagne tastes on your skin.”

Tyler’s eyes shut like he’s in pain and your gaze slides down to see the bulge in his pants grow. “You’re a fucking menace and I’m so fucking glad you’re my wife,” he mutters, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you out of the coat closet, nearly knocking Jamie over in his hurry, your shrieked giggles drowned out by the music from the party.

The next morning, afternoon really by the time you finally open your eyes, you wake up with half of your body draped over Tyler’s completely naked one. His hip and thigh is securely wedged between your legs, his morning wood hot against the outside of your thigh. One of your arms is in the sleeve of Tyler’s button down, the rest of the fabric draped over your back like a blanket. The hangover pounds at your temples and the sunlight blinds you and it’s such a deja vu moment you almost think you’re back in Vegas, right until the moment Tyler’s hand twitches against your lower back and he rubs his bearded chin against the top of your head. You melt against him, sighing happily.

“Anniversary party slash vow renewal every New Year’s Eve?” Tyler rasps against your hair, sliding his hand up your spine.

You hum into his skin, “as long as you get me electrolytes and a greasy breakfast on January first, I’m in.”

“How about a headache relieving orgasm first?” Tyler rolls you gently onto your back, already kissing a path down your body. You shiver with each brush of his lips and your legs fall open for him to slot himself between them. He rests his chin on your hip bone and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes that doesn’t match the hungry smirk that curves his lips.

“What?” You ask, angling your neck to look at him, raking a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There’s a little streak of glitter against his temple and you brush your thumb over it, wiping the smudge away.

He shakes his head a little. “Just thinking about this past year,” he lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “How fun it’s been, how glad I am that we did the surprise last night.”

“Getting soft on me, Seguin?” you tease, poking at his side with your foot. He wiggles away a little from your touch, ticklish even though he won’t admit it.

“You know I’m anything but soft for you,” he laughs, nipping at your skin. “Let me prove it.” He presses a kiss against your hip bone and then lower and then there’s no more thoughts, just you and Tyler and the rest of forever stretching out in front of you.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #the winter fic exchange 2k24 #tyler seguin x you #nhl fic

[diorsluv]

die for you masterlist

( diorsluv 2024 )

[ON HOLD!]

— social media, irl faceclaim ; lola tung

nhl + ntdp!2018 x platonic!figureskater!reader,

robertson brothers x fem!cousin!reader,

trevor zegras x fem!fwb!reader

other tags will be revealed once the complete series is done!

prologue

part 1: ( swear i couldn’t sleep a wink last night )

act i

part 2: ( no point in turning off the lights )

part 3: ( not the same without your head on my shoulders )

part 4: ( growing pains but i don’t wanna get older )

part 5: ( almost like we left it all on read )

part 6: ( couple feelings never laid to rest )

part 7: ( didn’t know that the party was over )

part 8: ( and it’s true that i need you here closer )

acts ii, iii, iv, and epilogue coming soon!

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #jamie drysdale #dallas stars #mason marchment #wyatt johnston #jason robertson #roope hintz #jamie benn #miro heiskanen #nick robertson #tyler seguin #matt duchene #joe pavelski #thomas harley #logan stankoven #jake oettinger #die for you masterlist

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ impossible ] t. seguin

day eleven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Tyler Seguin x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) is surprised when ex boyfriend Tyler knocks on the door of her parents’ house on Christmas Day

warning(s) : angsty, but nothing besides that

author’s note : last two fics of the christmas marathon. let’s do this

༺═──────────────═༻

She has never been happier to be home in Toronto. (Y/N) loves living in Dallas, but the last few weeks haven’t been the best. Being surrounded by family should help her out of the post-breakup funk she’s been in recently.

Even now as she's sitting in the living room with her family in her Christmas pajamas and opening their gifts, she misses Tyler. She misses her old life with Tyler, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep doing the distance.

He was away more often than he was home. When he was home, he went out with his teammates after games or on off days. She'd often go weeks without seeing him because he'd stay over at a teammate's house.

She wasn't equal with hockey anymore. Not like she used to be. She got tired of it.

She never gave him an ultimatum because she could never make him choose between her and hockey. (Y/N) made her feelings known and Tyler didn't seem to care, so she has been living with her best friend in Dallas and came home for Christmas a week ago. She stopped answering Tyler's texts and calls so she hasn't even talked to him in nearly two months.

Her family doesn't notice that something's wrong. (Y/N) does her best to keep a smile on her face and interacts with her nieces and nephews as they open their gifts. No one has asked where Tyler is and she is very much grateful for that.

As (Y/N) opens a gift from her mom, there's a knock on the door. Her mom goes to answer it as she opens the box that contains a Dallas Stars customized jersey that has her last name above the 91. "Tyler!" her mother shouts from the front door. "It's so nice of you to join us. We didn't think you'd be joining us."

Her head snaps toward the door so quickly that she thought for a split second that she gave herself whiplash. She's very surprised to see her ex standing at the front door of her parents' house in Toronto.

"I needed to go see my parents before coming over," Tyler says as he looks right at (Y/N). "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how insane Toronto traffic can be."

Words cannot express how angry and annoyed she is that he is at the door. She thought that he would've gotten the message that she was done when she didn't talk to him for two months.

Apparently not because there he stands in a Stars hoodie and plaid pajama pants with a bag full of gifts at the front door.

She gets up off the floor and pushes Tyler out the door without a word to anyone. It closes behind her, leaving the two of them alone in the cold Toronto air. Snow is on the ground and she's outside in a tank top, fuzzy pajama pants, and slippers. (Y/N) can't even feel the cold because of the fact that she is fuming.

"You have no right showing up," she spits at him. "We haven't spoken in two months and you show up at my parents' house."

Tyler blinks and says, "Last time I checked, you're the one that stopped talking to me. I don't remember being told that I wasn't allowed to come to Christmas because you stopped answering my texts and calls."

"We're done, Tyler," she tells him. "In case that wasn't clear."

"You're done," he retorts. "I'm not. I don't understand why you just up and left."

"I told you why!" (Y/N) practically shouts. "You're gone for weeks at a time, Tyler. The only time I get to see you is when we're separated by a thick piece of glass while I'm sitting in the stands and you're on the ice. You used to spend off days with me, you used to come home to me and we'd watch a movie on the couch or in bed. Then you decided to go out after every game or go out on off days."

He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I am a leader, (Y/N). I was never around my team. I needed to show them that I am still a leader and I couldn't do that when I was cooped up at home with you. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating and all of a sudden, you can't handle it anymore?"

Anger courses through her veins. Her blood is boiling to the point where the snow might melt around her. "No," she retorts. "I can't do it anymore. You used to make time for me and now you're a ghost. I was living in a shell of our past life together while you seemed to be moving on. I was alone in that apartment. It was like I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal if I left."

A look of hurt flashes on Tyler's face. "Of course it would be a big deal if you left," he softly says. "I love you. I miss you."

She shakes her head and does everything she can to keep the tears from spilling over to her cheeks. "You didn't listen," she tells him. "I told you how I felt and you still went out that night after the game. I made the decision to leave because I knew that if you went out after I told you how I felt, you'd keep going out. I couldn't do it anymore."

Tyler frowns and says, "I went out to tell the guys that I wasn't going to be going out as much with them after games and on off days. That is the only reason I went out. I was gone for thirty minutes. When I came back to the apartment and you were gone, I realized that I didn't tell you that I'd be right back."

"I- you-" she cuts herself off when she realizes that if she had just stayed around for an hour, he would've been back. "Why didn't you just text that to me?"

"I thought that you'd be back," he admits. His eyes fall to the ground. "I didn't think you'd ignore me for two months. I didn't think it would take you a half hour to pack a bag and leave. I should've told you that I'd be right back."

A tear slips down Tyler's cheek. Her own tears begin to fall when she sees Tyler's tears. "Tyler, I'm so sor-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupts her. "Don't you dare apologize. We wouldn't even be in this situation if I had just realized how lonely you were or if I had just told you that I would be right back. I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have come up here to try and fix things but I couldn't let you spend Christmas thinking you did something wrong when you didn't."

She takes a few steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso. Tyler's free arm wraps around her shoulders as she buries her face in his chest.

They've both done a lot wrong the past few months, but all they can do now is acknowledge what they've done wrong and move past it.

Hopefully Tyler's season can recover too because despite not being together, (Y/N) did keep an eye on his stats. He really began to fall apart a week after she left the apartment and has never been able to get it together.

That's all on her.

"Sorry your season has gone to shit," she sniffles as she looks up at him. "You can blame that on me."

Tyler shakes his head and cups her jaw with his free hand. "I'll never blame how good or bad a season is going on you," he tells her. "That will never be on you.'

A gust of wind blows and she shivers. Tyler wraps his arm back around her shoulders and holds her close to him. "I'll blame myself enough for both of us," she says. "Can we go inside?"

"As long as you're not done," Tyler replies. "I came up here to fight for us and I won't go inside unless you tell me that we can go back to how things were, minus my going out all the time."

(Y/N) looks up at him and nods. "I'm not done," she practically whispers. "Even when I said I was done, I don't think I actually was. You're impossible to move on from, Tyler Seguin."

He smiles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. He hums and pulls back. "God, (Y/N)," he says. "Your lips are so cold. Let's go."

She lets out a light laugh and walks into the house with Tyler in tow.

Everyone looks at the two of them as Tyler pulls off his hoodie and pulls it over (Y/N)'s head since they were outside for fifteen minutes talking in freezing temperatures. "Everything okay?" her mom asks. "You guys were outside for a while. I thought I heard yelling."

"Everything's okay," she assures everyone in the living room. She goes back to sitting on the ground and Tyler sits next to her. He takes her hands in his so they warm up. She leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. "We're okay."

That was more for Tyler than anything. He kisses the top of her head before he starts to hand out the gifts that he brought with him for (Y/N)'s parents and siblings. She watches them open their presents with a smile on her face.

Then Tyler holds a little present in front of (Y/N). She slowly takes it and looks up at him. "What is this?" she asks.

"Now that would ruin the surprise," Tyler teases. "Open it and find out. I know technically we weren't together when I bought this but I knew I wanted to buy it for you."

She unwraps it and opens the little black box. There's a silver ring that sits inside with a 91 in little diamonds on it. Her jaw drops and she looks up at her boyfriend. "You really went all out even though we weren't together," she gasps.

Tyler grabs it out of the box and takes her right hand. He slides the ring on the ring finger. "Wanted to make sure that everyone knows who your boyfriend was when we got back together," he replies. She admires the ring on her finger and Tyler kisses the ring.

(Y/N) smiles and leans against him to watch the last few presents get opened.

It finally feels like Christmas now that Tyler is here. It didn't feel like it until he got here because they have spent the last three Christmases together.

Despite being angry that he showed up, she's very happy he's here now.

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl blurb #tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin angst #tyler seguin fluff #malia’s christmas marathon

[swissboyhisch]

All-Star Love

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuck x Lemiuex!Reader

Summary: The NHL All Star weekend is always fun. But bring in a romance... Then that's when it becomes interesting.

Word Count: 1742

Warnings: None I think. Please tell me if I'm wrong.

A/N: This comes from a fanific I've written myself. I adjusted it for this but I loved this idea/scene.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

All-Star weekend 2020. This year it was being held in St. Louis. You had arrived on the Pittsburgh plane with Sidney Crosby, Kris Letang and Tristan Jarry since you were currently working with the team. Despite being Lemiuex’s child, you had earned yourself a position as an assistant coach at such a young age. You grew up playing the game. Now you were also the captain of the Canadian Women’s team. 

The last few years, you had attended the games alongside Sidney, who was an older brother after he lived with you and your family after he was drafted in 2005. It was a staple weekend in the season schedule. You had the chance to see all the friends and players you were close with and get to have some fun. Often you could even find yourself doing media stuff. 

This year the NHL had introduced the Elite Women’s 3 on 3. You were the youngest on the Canadian team by 5 years. They also have allowed the women on the teams to compete in the skills competitions. You had been placed into the Shooting Stars event. This meant that you were competing against your boyfriend, Matt, and his brother, Brady. Others in the skills competition include Mitch Marner, Patrick Kane, Tyler Seguin, David Perron, Hillary Knight, Danid Pastrnak and Ryan O’Reilly. 

Right now you were dressed in a pair of jeans and your team jersey. Standing in line waiting to be called to the stage where you’d be shooting from. With Mitch, Matt and Brady in front of you, the four of you were chatting and laughing. Each of you were excited to shoot off the platform. 

“Now your Gatorade Shooting Stars… from your St. Louis Blues, number 57, David Perron!”

The arena came to life, all cheering on one of the home team players. Perron, with his son in his arms, made his way up the stairs from ice levels. Handing out beanies and high fiving the fans as he went up to the platform.

“From the Toronto Maple Leafs, number 16, Mitch Marner.” 

Mitch followed Perron up the steps. Handing out hats as he went. Matt stepped forward to the bottom of the stars, looking up at all the fans. He had a hand on your lower back. Brady had let your stand next to your boyfriend whilst you three waited.

“From the Calgary Flames, number 19, Matthew Tkachuk.” Matt follows Mitch up. “From the Ottawa Senators, number 7, Brady Tkachuk.”

“The Canadian Women’s All Star, number 11, (Y/N) Lemieux.”

As you walked up the many stairs, you handed out rolled up t-shirts to fans. It was weird to have this many cameras in your face though. If you were honest, the walk up to the platform looked a lot shorter from the bottom. Especially the amount of stairs you had to climb. You reached the platform and waited for the rest of the players to join herself,Matt, Brady, Mitch and Perron. When everyone had gotten there, it went straight into the competition. First to shoot was Perron. He scored a total of 14 points. Mitch was next on the platform. He scored an awesome 22 points.

“Our next shooter, Matthew Tkachuk,” Nick started. “Your brother Brady is following you so we thought, hey, why not get one more Tkachuk up here. Why not bring up your Dad. Give it up St. Louis, for all-star Kieth Tkachuk!”

Yourself and Brady grin, tapping your sticks as you watched Keith join Matt on the platform, an arm around his shoulder with a wide smile on his face. Nick motioned for Brady to join them as well. You decided to give him a light shove as a joke.

“You should be up here as well,” Brady commented as he joined his brother and father.

You laughed at Brady’s comment. Sending a wink to Matt as well who had the biggest smile on his face.

Keith turned to face you, giving you a joking look, “I think we’re missing someone up here.”

“I ain’t no Tkachuck,” You reply. “Enjoy the moment, big guy.”

Matt stepped forward from where he was standing, holding his hand out for you. “Well, maybe we should change that, hey?”

“What?”

Keith, Brady and Nick stepped back from the platform and Matt grabbed your hand, pulling you to the centre of the platform they were standing on. Your hands flew to your mouth as you watched Matt slowly kneel to one knee and open a ring box. In the box sat the most perfect engagement ring you had ever seen.

“No way,” you breathed, looking at Matt who had the biggest smile on his face.

“You’ve been my best friend since we met all those years ago right here in this very arena. When little (Y/N) bumped into me as she ran to get away from her dad. You’ve been considered part of this family since then but I think I need to make it official, make sure you don’t stand out too much with that last name. Will you do me the greatest honour of changing your last name from Lemieux to Tkachuk?”

You nodded, too shocked to answer in words. The arena roared to life when Matt stood up and kissed you. He pulled the ring out of the box as you dropped your gloves. You cried as Matt slid the ring on your finger. Once he had sealed the deal, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders excitedly.

The players around them and on the bench, as well as the whole arena, were screaming and cheering. Mitch and Brady made sure they were heard over everyone else. 

“I can’t believe you,” You laughed as you pulled away from Matt. Brady was the first to hug you congratulations. He had the biggest grin as well. The smile gave him away. “You knew!”

“Of course I did,” Brady chuckles, “I helped choose the ring.”

Brady was interrupted when Keith pulled you into a hug. “I think you should just keep your last name, it’s more recognisable.”

“Tkachuk is better, that's for sure.”

Nick soon joined the happy group. You were tucked into Matt’s side like usual. Nick held his hand out to Matt who shook it happily before handing Matt a new jersey. It was a grey All-Star Canadian jersey like you were wearing. You grabbed it from Matt, checking the back which now had Tkachuk on it.

“Oh my god,” You grinned, pulling off your current jersey for the new one.

“Hey, have a look at the photo up on the board you guys.” There was a photo of Keith kneeling by the bench in front of a young Brady, Matt and yourself. You had attended the weekend with her father and hung out with the boys. One of the rare times you got to see the Tkachuk brothers as a kid. “How exciting is it to be on this platform being here, history in the making, with your sons and soon to be in-law?”

“I’m so proud of these guys,” Keith stated, smiling at you three. “They’ve earned being here. Matt and Brady grew up here, watched me play here. I mean, Matt met (Y/N) just outside the home change rooms in this arena.” At that, there was a picture of Matt, Brady and Taryn, the youngest Tkachuk, standing with Keith now on the screen.  “I love these guys. I know they love the Blues deep down.”

“Oh, we’re excited to have you here. 18000 people wanna know, how many pucks can Tkachuk chuck, chuck? So why don’t you have a go at this.” Keith took Matt’s stick from him as the three young adults stepped back. “Come on, Keith Tkachuk everybody!”

Keith shot the puck, nearly getting it in the 10 pointer net. “Not a lot of love for that arch there Tkachuk,” You chirped as he turned to give Matt his stick back.

He hugged the three of you before Matt stepped up to the platform. But only after a kiss from you. Keith’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as they watched Matt drop his gloves.

“How characteristic…” You giggles, stopping when he pulls off his Calgary jersey to reveal an old St. Louis Cardinals jersey.

“Who’d he fight?” Keith laughed. “He won’t touch you.”

“He’ll fight me,” Brady mumbled from beside you.

The three of you chuckled as you watched Matt take his first shot. As he took his next few shots, you listened to Brady and Keith chirp your boyfriend, well now Fiance. Matt ended up with 24, getting a 10 on his last one.

“Look at you go,” You smiled, pecking Matt when he switched spots with Brady. 

Brady stepped up to the plate. Matt pulled from under his dad’s arm into his. Having you stand in front of him with his arms around you. When Brady took his first shot, Matt laughed at the fact his brother didn’t do anything special as a tribute to their hometown. 

“Next up we have the last of the three musketeers.”

You stepped onto the platform, with a good luck kiss from Matthew. You had 7 shots to hit the targets laid out on the ice below. With the first shot you hit a 5. After your 6 other shots, you came to a total of 24 as well. Tie with Matthew. After everyone else had taken their shot, it was only Matthew and yourself that had the highest score. No-one had outshot you two. 

“Since you both scored an amazing 24 points, we go to a sudden death shootout. One shot. Highest score wins.”

Matt shot first, missing the arch but a hair. You shot next. The puck went flying over the arch. Actually hitting Jarry who was chilling at the end of the end with some of the other goalies. 

“Injure your goalie, why don’t ya?” Matt chirps as he steps up once again. 

Round two. Matt shoots and hits the 5 points. Only way for you to beat that was to score the same or hit the arch for 10 points. You took a moment before finally shooting the puck. It went straight into the arch. You grin, cheering as you turn to where Matt was standing.

“Better luck next time Tkachuk!”

He smiled, coming up to congratulate you. He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Next time, you’ll be a Tkachuk as well.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

#matthew tkachuk imagine #florida panther imagine #calgary flames imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #swissboyhisch imagine #swissboyhisch #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk blurb #matthew tkachuk rpf #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #Florida panthers imagine #florida panthers imagines #florida panthers x reader #florida panthers fanfiction #florida panthers fic #florida panthers blurb #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl rpf #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic

[matthewtkachuk]

the seasons are changing and so are we - tyler seguin

a fight threatens your relationship with Tyler, until a sunset boat ride changes everything

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

warnings: angst, alcohol, boats, mentions of marriage, shelb projecting (when am i not?)

word count: 2.3k

a/n: inspired by my own september long weekend with two black labs and some white claws. thanks as always to @antoineroussel for making sure it's coherent and a special shout out to @hotanddistraught for telling me i'm sick <3

“Those things are disgusting.”

They’re the first words Tyler has spoken to you all morning, since you woke up all alone in the spare room of the cottage. The first words spoken without vitriol since the screaming match yesterday, really. 

It had started innocently enough—a mention of how you didn’t want this summer to end during the drive up to Muskoka—that had somehow devolved into you silently crying in the passenger seat with Gerry in your lap trying to lick the salt from your face and the other two’s wet noses poking at you from the backseat. 

When he’d finally pulled into the long driveway of the ostentatious cottage, you’d all but leaped from the still moving vehicle without so much as making an attempt to help with the bags or the dogs. 

Supper had gone similarly—chock full of your silence and malicious noncompliance as you left him to suffer through not only grilling but preparing a side dish, too. 

And then you’d stubbornly side stepped his outstretched hand offering to take you to bed, choosing to spend the night alone in the spare room. 

You spent the entire night reliving the argument in your head, wondering how your wistful expression that you wished the summer would never end translated into unhappiness and a desire to leave the sincerest, most fulfilling relationship you’d ever known in Tyler’s eyes. Tossing and turning, you couldn't escape the way you felt in that passenger seat, the hurt and the anxiety intermingling with the fear that it was all slipping through your fingers.

Fear that somehow turned into anger, a fire lighting within you that he’d taken your words and twisted them until they were unrecognizable before throwing them right back in your face.

Which led you here, cracking a hard seltzer at nine o'clock in the morning which was clearly offensive to your boyfriend who looked on with a disapproving stare.

“Really?” you raise an eyebrow at him. “Is critiquing my drink choice your idea of an apology?”

He brushes past you as easily as he brushes past your words, reaching into the fridge for the orange juice and taking a giant gulp straight from the bottle. You barely suppress a grimace as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest tattoos and abs on full display. If you weren’t still so mad you probably would have made a joke about it, but, as it stands, you can barely stomach being in the same room. Especially since he seems content to ignore the issue. 

“We should go out on the boat today,” he says, proving your unspoken point. The B word gets the dogs going and you use the moments Tyler is shushing them to school your features. 

“Are you joking?” The hurt is present in your voice and written clearly across your face. Tyler winces at the sharp sound. 

He says your name softly, and though it’s normally one of your favorite sounds, it does nothing to temper your mood or your outrage this time. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you speak, “I’m not going to just let you sweep this under the rug with a fucking boat ride, Tyler.” 

He kind of pauses, then. Almost like he hadn’t expected your outburst. “I’m not—I’m not trying to sweep anything under the rug. I just don’t know what to say.”

All efforts at controlling yourself fly directly out of the window at his words. You slam the now empty can on the counter and grip your forehead in frustration. “You don’t know what to say? How about start with an apology and then let’s talk about how an innocent comment turned into all out war on the fucking highway.”

“I’m sorry—”

He’s the gasoline and you’re the slow building fire that started last night under the itchy covers of the spare room. “Well now it doesn’t mean shit because I had to tell you to do it! So what’s the real fucking issue here huh? I’ve given you everything I've got, Ty, it’s gotta be enough.” You’re referring to his heated comments yesterday, where he’d implied maybe this wasn’t working anymore. 

“It is! It’s enough. God, baby, it’s more than enough. It’s not you it’s me—” You give him an exasperated look, all but ready to push past him and grab your bags, ready to take your chances hitchhiking back to the city. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re perfect and you’re everything and I’m just some idiot hockey player with a no good hip, past his prime. You could have anyone you wanted-“

“You, Ty. I want you.” It’s honest and earnest, and you’re still fucking mad at him, but you love him, too.

“I can’t give you stability, I can't promise you I'll be home for supper every night. Hell, I can't even give you an entire summer at home. You’ll never be first, hockey will always be at least tied-”

“Do you think I don't know that? Tyler, we've been together for three years, I’m very aware of the limitations of your career. And I love your passion and your drive and your resiliency. I love you and the boys and the life we’re building.”

“I know and I am sorry. So sorry, baby. I let my insecurity get the best of me. 

“If anyone should be insecure it’s me—have you looked in a mirror lately? Or read your instagram DMs?” You’re joking, and the sound of your laugh calms him, soothes his soul, reassures him it’s safe to step into your space and steal a kiss. 

“Don’t need ‘em,” he says. “Got you.”

You lean into his embrace for a minute, fully giving into the love he so willingly offers before you break the spell briefly. Curving your hands alongside his jaw, you brush your thumb over the stubble on his cheek. “You gotta promise to talk to me, Ty. I can't read your mind and I can’t help when I don't know what's wrong. It’s not fair to either of us to hold it all in until you snap.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, I promise, too.” You kiss him quickly, before giving him a little love tap on the cheek. “Now go get the boat ready. I’m going to fill the cooler with beer and my disgusting drinks.” 

It’s a good morning on the boat—the perfect juxtaposition between the cool breeze as you cruise the lake and the gentle warmth of the sun as you drop anchor and Tyler tries (and fails) to catch fish for supper. Despite his earlier teasing, you find him more often with your drinks in his hand than his own, but he just gives you that stupid grin of his when you try to say something. 

Marshall and Cash lounge away on a bench seat, content to soak in the sun rays while their brother alternates between trying to jump on your and Ty’s laps and lounging at the front of the boat where the water crests over the bow. Your Insta stories consist of a short video of the boat cutting through calm waves, a shot of the cold drink in your hand, and one of Marshall looking away from the camera. Tyler reposts each one—every story slightly tilted in the way that all hockey players do when reposting on Insta.

Without the tension hanging over your head any longer, the good mood continues back at the cottage. You giggle and laugh through making supper, feeding the boys more than their fair share through meal prep before lounging on the back deck to enjoy your meals. 

The boys don’t get the invitation to climb up onto the bed until long after Tyler’s made your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your bed. 

Truth be told, the next morning you’re not quite sure how any other day of the long weekend could possibly hope to compare to the complete 180 of the day before. Until you’re woken with a kiss and the smell of caffeine and waffles. The waffles turn out to be just eggos, but he gets a solid A for effort, if only because he’s made you a cup of your favorite warm drink exactly how you like it. 

The morning fades into early afternoon as you lounge outside with your boys, your book in one hand and a cold drink in the other while Tyler runs around after the dogs, checking in every now and then like a toddler. “Did you see that babe?” and “what about that babe?” and “look at Gerry, babe!”

The sun is warm on your face, and you’re content to soak it all up while focusing most of your attention on your book. Only most of your attention, because Tyler is running around without his shirt on and there may have been a time or two where you had to read the same page several times over until it stuck. You’re just finishing a chapter when your sunlight goes dark, mere seconds before your boyfriend is tucking your bookmark to mark your page and tossing the book to the side and covering your body with his. 

“You, me, shower then boat. Whaddya say?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you nearly choke on your own spit before letting out a sharp laugh. 

The shower is short and quick, less handsy than maybe you were expecting until he slides behind your naked body, gripping and holding your bare skin as you apply hair products in the mirror. 

“Wear that sundress I like,” he suggests, nipping at the skin of your shoulder and dancing out of the bathroom before you can get out so much as a confused ‘okay?’

Undoing the knots holding the boat to the dock is a tad harder than you remember it being while your movements are slightly more restricted in the dress you’re wearing, but you manage to get it done while Tyler starts up the boat. 

Getting on the thing itself is a little harder after you’ve pushed it off the dock a little, what with the yellow lab laying directly in front of the door.

“Move it, Ger,” Tyler says, pushing his youngest back to give you room to hop onto the boat. “Let mom get on board.”

You preen under the sound of his voice, your stomach warming the way it always does when he calls you the dogs’ mom. Grabbing Tyler’s hand, you thank him quietly and have a seat beside Cash in the tiny bit of space not occupied by the large dog. 

When you get out further on the open water, you grab a drink from the cooler at your feet and relax further into the seat, head tilting back to try and catch some of the breeze. 

“This is nice, Ty,” you tell him contentedly before taking a sip of your drink. 

He doesn’t drive much further, finding a little bay and dropping the anchor before shutting off the boat’s engine. 

You look out at the water, admiring the way it reflects the sun that’s beginning to set. He moves until he’s stood at your back, caging you in his arms. He kisses your bare shoulder and then your neck and then your cheek. “I love you.” 

You sigh again, relaxing further into his embrace and leaning your head back against his shoulder. “I love you too. I can’t believe I really thought you were going to break up with me.” 

He kisses your shoulder once more before backing off entirely, and you find yourself missing the warmth even though the early September air isn’t exactly cool yet. A minute or two pass before he speaks, “Well, I don’t really wanna call you my girlfriend anymore.”

You’re confused, a little bit of that earlier hurt finding its way back into your heart and brows furrowing as you spin around, only to pause in your motions with a gasp caught in your throat.  

“There’s something else I’d rather call you if you let me.” Tyler’s on one knee, holding an open ring box and you’re sure it’s a lovely ring but all you can see is that stupid smile on his face and all you can feel is just how much you love this guy. In this moment, every single stupid fight you’ve ever had is inconsequential, utterly unimportant except for the fact that they’ve all brought you forward to this place, this moment, this feeling. 

He starts to launch into some clearly rehearsed speech, and you wonder how long he’s been planning this if for no other reason than all three dogs are perfectly quiet and well behaved despite their dad at ground level which would ordinarily send Gerry into a licking fit.

And it’s all just so crazy, so ridiculous that you say “No.”

“No?” He looks a little nauseous, that same look on his face from yesterday where it’s like he couldn’t comprehend your response crossing his face. 

It’s not what you mean, not at all actually, the exact opposite, really, and so you quickly fire back “No because yes.”

“Yes?” he asks, somehow like he can’t believe it and yet like it’s the exact answer he was expecting. 

You’re crying now, a hand clasped firmly over your mouth, and the other reaching for him as you nod fervently, “Yes!”

“She said yes!” he shouts, popping up and pulling you into his body. Shouting comes from all around you, flash photography nearly blinding you as a dozen of your closest family and friends reveal themselves on nearby boats. The dogs finally lose their cool, barking and jumping and you honestly could not care less about the chaos. 

Not with Tyler sliding a ring on your finger and his tongue in your mouth in an earth shattering kiss, the promise of forever with him on his lips.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin x reader #shelb writes

[senditcolton]

1k Cele-Bakery Masterlist

THE ORDERS

“Lead Me to the Garden” Chai Cookies (blurbs)

Blue Salvia [JT Compher x reader] Candytuft [Tyson Jost x OC Madeleine Murphy] (part of the “call my bluff, call you babe” universe) Daffodil [Mat Barzal x OC Delaney Pierce] (part of “the pull of you” universe) Edelweiss [Matt Martin x reader] (part of the “we’re a bad idea” universe) Gardenia [Andrei Svechnikov x reader] (part of the ”king of my heart” alternate universe) Gardenia [Colton Parayko x OC Elizabeth Astor] (part of the “would it be enough?” universe) Holly [Tyson Jost x reader] Myrtle [Casey Cizikas x reader] Myrtle [Tyler Seguin x reader] Oak [Brock Boeser x reader] Oak [Ryan Graves x reader]

“Showstopper” Sugar Cookies (moodboards)

“at least we were electrified” with Matt Martin (part of the “we’re a bad idea” universe) Carnival Date with Andrei Svechnikov “Knights of Silver & Gold” with Marc-Andre Fleury Lake Shenanigans with Tyson Jost Renaissance Faire with Brock Boeser Vacation with Mat Barzal

“Wild and Wacky” Vintage Chocolate Cake (headcanons)

Getting Lost on a Long Drive with Tyson Jost Going to a Sauna with Mikko Rantanen Moving Into a New Home with Roope Hintz

“Sweet Like Honey” Buttermilk Honey Bread (playlists)

Forbidden Royal Romance with Andrei Svechnikov (part of the “king of my heart” universe)Meeting in a Bookshop with Sidney Crosby Unrequited Love with Erik Johnson

“The Apple of My Eye” Caramel Rose Apple Pie (fic recs)

Jake Oettinger Mikko Rantanen Sidney Crosby Tyson Jost

“Too Good, Too Pure” Cinnamon Roll (ask games)

Top 5 NHL Players Top 5 Places I’ve Seen Top 5 Tropes to Read Top 5 Tropes to Write Top 5 Underrated Active NHL Players Top 5 Vacation Spots

THE THANKS

First, I want to give a special shoutout to a few very special people who I cherish dearly and can’t imagine my time on hockeyblr without them:

Demi ( @wyattjohnston )  You are a bright, shining, sparkling light in this community. You are always so wonderful and welcoming to everyone and I can’t imagine both my time without you nor hockeyblr without you. Thank you for the support on my fics, for hopping in my askbox, and for literally everything you do!!! 

Em ( @texanstarslove ) My goodness! I don’t even know how to describe how wonderful I think you are. You were one of the first blogs I followed here and I thought to myself “wow, she is so cool”. And look at us now! Thank you for allowing me to hop in your askbox and torture you with thoughts (or more accurately, thots) about our favorite hockey boys and for being an overall genuine and sweet person!!!

Lauren ( @laurenairay ) Words cannot describe how amazing and caring of a person you are! You are always taking time out of your day to send me sweet messages and always leaving the sweetest tags on my fics and just... wow! I always look forward to seeing you; in my askbox/messages, in my notifs, on my dashboard. Keep being the golden beautiful human you are!!

I also want to give a quick, special shoutout to three blogs that are not as active/inactive that I still consider very close friends and shaped my hockeyblr experience: Ilyana ( @hookingminor ), Alex ( @toplinetommy ), and Hannah ( @yeeehaw-hockey ). 

There are of course so many other people/blogs I consider near and dear to me and that have made these years on hockeyblr so wonderful & who I can’t wait to become even closer with:  @matthewtkachuk​ @thomasschabot​ @comphy-and-cozy​ @smileysvech​​ @dissonannce​ @ilyasorokinn​ @fallinallincurls​ @raysofcrosby​ @barzysunflower​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @jarmorie​ @cellythefloshie​​ @tippedbykreider​ @troubatrain​ @masonappleton​ @adamlowsy​ @rnuggethopkins​ @austennight​ @wanderinqhoul​ @kailyn-writes​ @typical-simplelove​ 

Shoutout to every single one of you for being here!! If you didn’t see your name above, that doesn’t matter; I love you just as much! When I say I couldn’t do this without you, I mean it!!! (no literally, this celebration wouldn’t exist if 1k of you didn’t decide to hit that follow button)

#1k cele-bakery #once again: #thank you Thank You THANK YOU!!!

[holy-puckslibrary]

𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭

here's a list of every upload from the fic-mas event i did on patreon last year, as well as a link to the selection of said uploads that are now available to you here on tumblr (depending on when you see this post).

hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

again, this is a list of ficmas uploads that are available on my patreon and will remain there for the time being. if you'd like to learn more about how to access them, please refer to 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

if you'd to pursue the content available now (or soon-to-be) on tumblr, please refer to 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — stargirl!connor mcdavid x famous!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 3k 𝐜𝐰 — none, excluding cavities. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — romance is not dead if you keep it just yours. (requested)

need a refresher or to get caught up? here's the 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — ceo!sidney crosby x assistant!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.8k 𝐜𝐰 — mild angst, but that's it! 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — sidney's hatred of the holiday inadvertently thwarts the enjoyment of it by someone he definitely doesn't hate. (inspired by a #darvey scene from suits)

˗ˏˋ 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — jamie drysdale x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐜𝐰 — references to past hook-ups but nothing explicit and heavy angst (per the request) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — merry meddling brings two volatile foes back under the same roof. can holiday magic mend the burned bridge between these former enemies-with-benefits?

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐒 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — adam fox x heiress!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 3.2k 𝐜𝐰 — a smidge of angst. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — the princess of park avenue and the hotel manager's son, once childhood sweethearts, are reunited by a precocious permanent resident just in time for the holidays — and the heiress' wedding. (inspired by the best movie of all time, eloise at christmastime)

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — sidney crosby x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.8k 𝐜𝐰 — references to a previous one-night-stand and some drama. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — five years ago, she left the club's annual holiday celebration with an unexpected party favor. said party favor meets more than just st. nick when they return this year. 

˗ˏˋ '𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — tyler seguin x oc (caroline allen) 𝐰𝐜 — >10k 𝐜𝐰 — adult themes and content, angst (and a lot of it), description and repeated reference to an injury + chapter-specific warnings.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — tyler seguin will attest that caroline allen, acclaimed author and his childhood love, is "the one that got away" until his dying day. even though the "got away" half is (more than partially) his fault. but that didn't matter much when he was thousands of miles away, skating his heart out and partying the years away. by some stroke of luck or a cruel twist of fate (he isn't quite sure yet), a season-ending injury has sent him back to recover in the one place he knew she'd always be. will this second chance to make things right be the gift of a lifetime, or just another lump of coal weighing down his heart? 

the family trees

Have you ever been watching a Hallmark movie and been suddenly overcome with the urge to visit the festive little town where the story takes place and the seemingly mismatched leads fall madly in love?

Well, look no further than Merriment Island, Christmas' official home in the States! 

For over 100 years, the jolly citizens of this aptly shaped island located just off the coast of Washington have been spreading holiday cheer amongst themselves and all who visit. This year, Mayor Seguin has selected you all as the guests of honor for our annual Winter Wonderland celebration - the longest-running of its kind!

Be sure to join us from December 18th through Christmas Day for festive fun, friendly competition, and the opportunity to create unforgettable memories with your loved ones. Make sure to keep the exclusive flyer handy (attached after the stylized map designed by our very own Benny Allen), as it will be your ticket into the 8-day, all-inclusive event! 

If you have any questions about the event, please email Jennifer Bishop-Allen (Winter Wonderland Chairwoman and co-owner of the Allen Family Farm), or her daughter, Caroline Allen. (Yes, the NYT best-selling author!) 

If you are not staying aboard the Sleigh of the Sea (Merriment's very own cruise-liner that docks in Seattle!) for the duration of the celebration, please contact Catherine or Lily Seguin at the Yuletide Inn to make your reservation as soon as possible. Rooms are limited and going faster than you can name all eight of Santa's reindeer! 

╰┈➤  an excerpt of the email accompanying the the invitation flyer

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

#connor mcdavid x reader #connor mcdavid x y/n #connor mcdavid x you #connor mcdavid imagine #connor mcdavid blurb #connor mcdavid fic #connor mcdavid fanfiction #connor mcdavid #the stargirl verse #stargirl verse #stargirl!connor mcdavid #ceo!sidney crosby x reader #ceo!sidney crosby #ceo!crosby #suits au #sidney crosby fluff #sidney crosby angst #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x you #sidney crosby x y/n #sidney crosby x oc #sidney crosby #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfiction #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale x y/n #jamie drysdale angst #jamie drysdale blurb

[thedevilrisen]

Ho, Ho, Hockey.

-

It's Christmas month! In effort to help spread some X-mas spirt you can participate in Ho, Ho, Hockey! It's a combined celebration of Christmas season and 40 followers!

You can send in asks with any of the prompts, songs or just asks in general! It's Christmas time, let spread some Christmas Cheer!!

-

Christmas Song Fic List.

All I want for Christmas is You. Last Christmas Aussie Jingle Bells Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Santa Claus is Coming to town.

-:-

Christmas Prompt List.

"Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe!" "You spent how much on Christmas Decorations!" "It's 5am, go back to sleep." "That wrapping is terrible" "Are you going to help, or just stand there dancing like a fool" "I hate Christmas shopping." "I love Christmas shopping!" "If you throw that snowball you're declaring war." "My house, my rules. The Christmas music stays on."

-:-

People that can be requested

Jack Hughes Luke Hughes Nico Hischier Quinn Hughes Trevor Zegras Jamie Drysdale Mason McTavish Cole Caufeild Sidney Crosby Tyler Seguin Jamie Benn

#risen rambles :d #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #trevor zegras oneshot #quinn hughes #dad quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #hornet!zegras #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale smut #mason mctavish imagine

[thenhlteaissuperhot]

If you are bored, go read BookTok girlies' comments under the Kierra Lewis x Alexander Wennberg drama, it is a peak comedy if you are an actual hockey fan, not just a hockey fanfiction fanatic.

Are we seriously making this whole thing about race? Of course, we are, this is THE USA baby, we blame everything on racism as if the response wasn't the same if it was a white-ass blonde woman in this situation.

The funniest thing is how they are all determined to go back to Tyler Seguin cause he would allegedly never do this to them.

#nhl #nhl players #nhl gossip #kierra lewis #booktok #alexander wennberg #seattle kraken

[puckmaidens]

If you are taking requests.....can I request anything soft and fluffy with Oleksiak or Seguin helping the reader with depressive episode?

Better Days - Jamie Oleksiak x fem!reader x Tyler Seguin

WC: .7k

Y/N was exhausted, and both Jamie and Tyler being gone didn't help. Sleep was difficult to come by since the playoffs started but definitely with Seattle and Dallas playing each other for a Western Conference Final spot.

Y/N was torn for a multitude of reasons but the biggest one was leaving the house. Her meltdowns and random irritations made being there for both boys hard.

Why am I not strong enough to get up and go see them at the game? None of the other Better Halves struggle like this, they show up and out. Their minds didn't hate them so much that getting out of bed was the hardest thing all day.

She hadn't slept or left the house in weeks, and basic things like bathing and eating were Herculean efforts, and more times then not getting in the shower didn't happen.

She missed them both, but she couldn't call them. Too much was at stake for them, Jamie on a new team making it to playoffs and Tyler making a deep run with the Stars.

I’m only one call away, Superman got nothing on me

Her phone basically stayed attached to the charger unless Y/N was listening to music to fall asleep to. Her laundry was reaching a critical mass and the smell was overwhelming. Even being awake was too overwhelming some days.

Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow...

Y/N let the phone ring, body finally shutting down for sleep.

The door opens and Jamie walks in to find his (and Tyler's) girlfriend fast asleep and distraught in her sleep.

"You take care of us, so let us take care of you, baby. I'll call Tyler and do your laundry. Don't worry, we'll make up for lost time."

"Segs. She's not doing good, found her asleep in her apartment and everything is a mess. I need your help."

"Rig, I'm on my way. Anything for both of you. I'll grab food too. How did we miss this? Y/N, baby we're gonna make sure you're ok. Ok?" Tyler's voice gets soft as he hangs up the phone.

Jamie starts doing Y/N's laundry, sorting out clothes and in-between loads finding out what food was there.

The door swings open and Jamie hears Tyler's footsteps before feeling him bump into Jamie.

"Is babydoll still sleeping? I've got food and some stuff. Soap, laundry detergent, new pjs."

"Out cold, couldn't even get her blanket off her. I checked her temperature and it seems normal. You can go and try to wake her. Ty?"

"Yeah, Jame?"

"You have a plan? I don't think she's going to without a fight. Or without help." Tyler nods, setting his haul down.

"I'll carry her to the bathroom and you'll start the bath. She needs both of us right now. You think the laundry will finish by then?" Jamie drops the last load of laundry in, adds detergent and gets it running.

"Let's go take care of her."

Y/N wakes up to the smell of lavender and arms around her.

"Mmm hi? Aren't y'all supposed to be with the team?"

"Baby, you weren't picking up. Nobody could reach you. We had to use our keys, why didn't you tell us things were getting bad?"

"You both were so busy and I didn't want to be a burden or too much. You both have been working so hard and I didn't want to bog you down with my problems."

Tyler presses a kiss to Y/N's forehead and Jamie pulls her into his chest.

"You are our baby, our partner. Taking care of you is never a burden. We will love you even when things feel hard. Ty and I will make sure you know we love you every day."

The night wanes on with both boys helping you finish your bath, Tyler scrubbing Y/N's arms and Jamie washing her hair.

The bed is heavy with Tyler pressing your neck to his shoulders and Jamie spooning you from the back.

Everyday isn't perfect, but with both of them loving you, it's at least better even when the dark days arrive.

#tyler seguin fic #Jamie Oleksiak fic #tyler seguin x reader #Jamie Oleksiak x reader #Tyler Seguin Imagine #jamie oleksiak imagine

[writingonleaves]

like you were my closest friend - tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x original female character

warnings: swearing, some angst, mostly fluff

word count: 4.1k

based on: "maroon" by taylor swift, title from that song as well

author's note: okay this isn't my favorite one because i think it's a bit rushed, but i thought i'd put it out anyways. would very much like to emphasize that this is fictional and i'm rooting for segs and his hot wife!! im a sucker for right person wrong time vibes and shit happening at weddings so here's a combo of that! also maroon is so seggy coded and you can't tell me otherwise

*****

Carmen Valez was 19 and stupid when she first met Tyler Seguin.

Working at a tattoo shop to make extra money while trying to put herself through college, she was cleaning up from her boss’s last scheduled appointment of the night when in came a group of rowdy guys. It wasn’t the first time a group of drunk guys came in looking for a tattoo. She had listened as her boss Ken came out and did his spiel and she heard laughter and some agreements so they couldn’t have been that drunk because her boss would’ve put up more of a fight.

When she first saw Tyler, she recognized him immediately. Growing up in Boston in a family of hockey lovers, how could she not recognize the rookie who had just won the Stanley Cup? As she turned the corner even more, she saw Brad Marchand and all she could think about was that she couldn't wait to tell her brothers and dad about this. 

Ken introduced her to the guys and asked her if she could set up some things. She waved in greeting and nodded, going in the back to gather the supplies needed. She tried to stifle a yawn as she re-sterilized the needles, but it didn’t work.

“Long night?”

She whipped around to see Tyler peeking in behind a curtain. “Are you looking for something?”

“The bathroom. But I think I found something much better.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Go to the end of the hall and it’s on your right.”

“Thanks,” he tilted his head to the side. “Are you the one who drew those flower designs that are hanging up in the hall?”

“I am. Ken asked me to draw some things so the shop wasn’t only filled with his designs.”

“You tattoo as well?”

“Oh, no way. That’s all Ken.” She shrugged. “I’ve designed some, but never physically tattooed them on someone. My hands are too shaky.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed and then went on his way to the bathroom as she finished gathering the supplies and went outside with them. 

Ken became the guy Tyler kept coming back to for his tattoos so she got to know him and despite his reputation as a partier and womanizer, she found him endearing, often making conversation with him during his longer sessions while Ken was working on him on the table and she was doing schoolwork or doodling in the front. 

It was a weird friendship because Tyler was rarely stationary in Boston and Carmen was attending Northeastern University and they really didn’t mix in any of the same circles but they kept coming back to each other. Their friendship developed to the point where he would come by on his nights off to her off-campus apartment with takeout and they would flick on a movie. He told her about his insecurities of having such a fantastic rookie year and then never amounting to anything else and she told him about her confusions of what she actually wanted to do with her communications degree. He talked about how hooking up with girls was easier than seeing if someone was only using him for his image and she talked about her view on relationships and how long distance never works. 

He would invite her to games and she’d come along sometimes, dragging her best friend along with her to TD Garden. She knew all about his lifestyle and how he’d hook up with girls left and right but when she was with him, she always only saw a 20 something year old boy who was thrust into stardom really quickly and who was fucking up like anybody else his age but being overly criticized for it because of his job. She didn’t really see him as anything more than a friend, truly. She could admit easily that he was objectively attractive and probably too charming for his own good, but she saw him as one of her dearest friends more than anything. 

(Even if she had the slightest feeling that she wanted to be more during those years, heart fluttering when he texted her to make sure she got home safe after late nights or winking at her and throwing her a puck at one of his games, causing her to grin like a middle school girl with a crush, she always pushed it away)

So when she was in the Cape celebrating the Fourth and news broke out that the Bruins had traded him to Dallas, she felt her heart drop. She ventured to a quieter area away from the celebrations and dialed his number. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk, but she couldn’t not call him to see if he was okay. 

From the sniffling on his end, despite what he said, she knew he wasn’t okay, and told him that when she was back in the city, she’d come around to his place with food, wine and hugs. 

The next week, when he opened the door, she dropped everything and just embraced him, holding him for several minutes as she tried to keep her tears in. She pulled away and just apologized for bringing some cheap rose that her roommate left at her apartment a couple of months ago instead of an actual nice bottle and he just laughed. She set up food from their favorite takeout place and they automatically went through all of these motions but with a sad feeling in the air. This night was going to be the last one of these, before he went back home the following weekend to Canada to spend the rest of his off season there and then head to Dallas. His apartment was already bare, having gotten started on moving out as soon as he had gotten the call.

She tried so, so hard not to cry as they put on Great British Bake Off and talked and somehow they started reflecting on numerous random moments and memories they had shared the last three years and they were both laughing as he complained about her almost spilling her wine like usual and she just threw her napkin at him. For the first time, he’s the one who splashed his wine on her t-shirt and he hiccuped and apologized and offered a shirt for her to change into and she waved him off, a blush on her cheeks either from the alcohol or from his proximity or both.

At one point, they ended up on the floor cuddling with his dogs and he asked how they even ended up there and she snorted, referencing the two bottles of rose they had downed and he had snorted and flashed her a stunning smile and her heart cracked a bit more. 

They were both dozing off on the couch — his arm thrown over her as she cuddled into his chest because they both had always been touchy when they were drunk — when he said something that would forever plague her memory. 

“I should’ve asked you to be mine.”

She blinked and shot up, looking down at him. “What?”

“I-I should’ve just asked you on a date. You could’ve been mine this whole time.”

“Tyler. You can’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”

“What makes you think I don’t mean it, Car?” He shot back, sitting up. “I know I’m drunk and I know I’m about to leave this city and maybe never see you again but of course I mean it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears fell. “Tyler.”

“I don’t regret a single moment of our friendship. I just regret that I never told you how I felt until it was too late.”

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Stop trying to discount my words because I’m drunk,” he said sternly. “I love you as a friend, of course, but I-I love you as more too. For awhile now, I think. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same and again, I’m the dumbest guy alive for bringing this up tonight of all nights but I just…I had to tell you before I left.”

She put her head in her heads and started crying softly. “I love you too,” she admitted through her tears. “I-I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were looking for more. Jesus, I literally know two of the girls you’ve hooked up with the past year. Do you know how annoying and gross it is to hear about your performance in bed while I’m trying to cram last minute for an exam?”

He chuckled and she looked at him again and saw that there were tears running down his cheeks as well. “We’re both stupid, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

He looked up at the ceiling with quivering lips. “I’m not going to ask you for more, no matter how much I want to.”

She nodded vehemently and cupped his face with both her hands, wanting so bad to kiss his lips and using every part of her strength not to. “You’re going to be amazing in Dallas.” She brushed a falling tear and tried to give him a reassuring smile as his top lip quivered. “You’re going to become a lover of the heat and look amazing in green and start liking country music and I’m going to make fun of you for all of it.”

“But you’re not gonna be there.”

She swallowed with a small shrug. “Who knows? Maybe a job in Dallas will open up after I graduate.”

“You wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t let you. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she weakly protested, slapping his arm and making him chuckle.

But he was right. And she hated that he was right.

She watched his eyes flit to her lips and she hoped that he was also fighting the urge as he placed a kiss on her forehead, which somehow was probably worse than if he had just kissed her. 

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He said, voice cracking at the edges. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, not being able to say it back because she didn’t want to completely break down. “Let’s get some sleep.”

That last night, they fell asleep on the couch like they had done numerous times before and he sent her off in the morning like he had done numerous times before, except this time she held onto him as tight as she could. Maybe if she kept hugging him, he wouldn’t have to go. 

But he had to. And he did. 

Carmen Valez was 22 when she saw Tyler Seguin again. 

After graduation, she had gotten a job in New York, and he was in town playing the Rangers. They had gone out to dinner and then to a bar for drinks and things fell back into place as they leaned in close to each other the whole night and she kissed him, bringing him back to her apartment. She woke up with marks on her collarbone and memories of his lips all over her body and cursed herself as she watched him peacefully sleep next to her because she was still in love with him. 

He had woken up with a soft but sad smile. “Has your view on long distance relationships changed?”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

He swallowed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault you’re the easiest person to fall in love with. Can I ask one thing though?”

“Of course.”

“If your view does change, give me a call?”

“Tyler-”

“I’m serious. Whether it’s 10 days or 10 years from now, call me.”

A tear had slipped out from her eyes when he pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

Carmen Valez was 27 when she realized her view on long distance changed. And the first person she thought of was Tyler Seguin. 

They had kept in touch very sporadically throughout the years over text and had tried to meet up everytime he came to New York to play, but the contact became less and less as the years went on. She tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. She had no right to be hurt. He could live his life however he wanted.

She was going down to Dallas for one of her coworker’s weddings and was tempted to call Tyler to see if he was around — for the first time, she’d be where he was instead of the other way around — but she didn’t bother because it was the off season and she figured he was home in Canada. 

As she walked into the venue, she was shocked to see Tyler speaking to the bride’s grandma. She couldn’t help but smile at how gentle he was, soft smile on his face as he tucked the grandma’s hand into the crook of his elbow while leading her to her seat. He looked so handsome in his gray suit.

Gosh, he’s changed since they met in that tattoo parlor in Boston. They both have. But something about his smile makes her realize that almost nothing has changed at all.

When he sees her, she swears he lights up and her stomach flutters. She notices quickly that he’s a groomsman, if his matching suit with a couple of the other ushers indicates anything. He strolls up to her with his signature charming smile and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She scoffs, before stepping forward and hugging him tightly. “Hey Ty.”

“Hi Car.” He turns to her coworker with a stunning smile. “And hello Car’s friend. I’m Tyler. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Samantha. How do you two know each other?”

She exchanges a look with him, because it’s a long story. But she settles with, “Ran into him when he played in Boston and I went to college there, and he didn’t leave me alone.” The three of them laugh. 

“I’m assuming you both are here for the bride?”

“We are.”

He offers an arm to the both of them. “Follow me, ladies.” Carmen can tell Samantha is charmed as she rolls her eyes but grabs the crook of his elbow anyways.

After he escorts them to their seats, he has to bolt and just bids them farewell with a kiss on Carmen’s cheek and a promise to save her a dance later before ducking out of the church, presumably to help out with some behind the scenes stuff. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Samantha gives her a skeptical look. “We’ve been working together for two years and you failed to tell me that you know Tyler Seguin? You know I grew up a Stars fan.”

“It’s never come up.”

“Fair.” She blinks, looking for something in her coworker’s face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What? No, of course-”

“Nice try. If your heart eyes hadn’t given you away, it was your response just now. You’ve always been a bad liar. What’s the story between you two?”

She sighs, staring at the front of the church at nothing in particular. “We met when I worked at a tattoo parlor in college and he came in and we became really good friends. He got traded to Dallas and then told me loved me on his last night in the city. Knew I didn’t believe in long distance at the time so didn’t ask for more. We slept together around a year later. My stance on long distance hadn’t changed. We’ve seen each other sporadically when I’m free and he’s in New York for a game, but not much recently.”

Samantha whistles. “Sounds like a lot.”

Carmen just snorts. She has no idea. 

“So you still love him.” 

Carmen just sighs. 

“I think he still might love you too.”

Carmen snorts, smoothing down her dress. “How could you possibly know that? You met him for maybe two minutes.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re at a wedding and this could be a scene from a Hallmark movie, but I’m also pretty sure he also had heart eyes when he saw you.”

Carmen just hums, and Samantha drops it, as they shift to other safer topics. 

The ceremony is stunning and the bride is gorgeous and the groom is beaming, yet besides when the bride walked down the aisle, she can’t tear her eyes away from Tyler, standing at the front with a constant happy look on his face. As he walked down with an accompanying bridesmaid on his arm, he caught her eye and shot her a sly wink and she knows she blushed and she didn’t even try to hide it. 

The next time she caught him was well into the reception, after dinner had been eaten and the dance floor was starting to open up. She had just finished her drink before she felt a tap on her shoulder, looking up to see Tyler with an outstretched hand. 

“Dance with me?”

Without giving a verbal answer, she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the dance floor. She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands settle on her waist.

“You didn’t reach out to tell me you were gonna be in town.”

“I figured you’d be in Canada for the off-season.”

He hums, but he doesn’t buy the excuse. To be fair, she doesn’t either. “It’s really good to see you, Car.” He says, and she might be imagining him pulling her closer. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” 

He smirks and she feels like she’s 19 again. “I look beautiful?”

She rolls her eyes. “You do.” She says softly. “How have you been?”

And then they start catching up, and it’s so damn easy, as the conversation flows from hockey to her advertising job to their memories in Boston to their mutual friends who just got married to their families and it feels like he’s still on the Bruins and she’s still at Northeastern. At some point, they migrate from the dance floor to the empty-ish open bar and they’re still talking and she realizes how much she’s missed having him in his life. 

When she voices that out loud, his beaming smile dims the slightest. “God, I’ve missed you so much. Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

“Don’t even start, Seguin.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself or whatever you’re about to do. If we’re gonna blame someone, it’s all on me.”

Their first seconds of silence fall between them. “How has that been, by the way? You got a lucky guy back in New York waiting for you?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. You? I hope I didn’t steal you away from a date or something.”

“Nah. No one for me.”

“Not at all?”

“None who have meant as much to me as you.”

She feels like her heart’s been sucker punched. Typical Tyler Seguin. Always going in for the kill. 

She switches topics. “I-I watched your Stanley Cup playoff run. You played really well. I’m sorry it wasn’t the result you guys wanted.”

“You watch my games?”

She swallows. Busted. “I try to whenever I can, even though I still feel like I’m betraying my Bruins when I do.”

He laughs, still a bit shocked. “I’m sure they’d forgive you. I was a Bruin, after all.”

She downs her drink and asks the bartender for a water. “I missed you,” she says quietly once the bartender is out of earshot. “And I always loved watching you play. Figured it was the next best thing.”

“You could’ve called. Or texted. I would’ve answered.”

She shakes her head. “That would’ve been unfair to you, especially with how I left things off.”

He chuckles, albeit sadly. “Carmen. I’m kinda weak when it comes to you. Always have been.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear falling as she feels Tyler place a warm hand on her thigh over her maroon dress. “You give me way too much power.”

“I don’t think I could ever give you what you deserve, no matter how hard I try.”

Carmen wipes the tear away with a small smile. She pokes his chest. “How do you come up with this shit?”

He laughs, taking a sip of his beer, before his face settles into a more serious expression. “Can I ask you two questions, though? No bullshit. Just the truth.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you still love me?”

She nods at an embarrassingly fast pace.

He swallows. “Oh.”

She picks at her nails, suddenly unsure. “D-Do you still love me? It’s-it’s totally okay if you don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s been years and we don’t really see each other much anymore and-”

“Of course I still love you.” She whips her head up to stare at him in shock. He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. 

She puts her hand over his that’s still resting on his thigh and interlaces their fingers together. “What’s your second question?”

“Do you still not believe in long distance?”

“I’ve been thinking…I think I’m open to trying it.”

His eyes flash in surprise as his lips turn up into a hopeful smile. “Really? You’re not fucking with me?”

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Ty?”

“Can I have a third question? And maybe a fourth?”

She rolls her eyes fondly, squealing a bit as he brings her stool even closer to him. “Was that it?”

“Smartass.” She nods at him to ask. “Would you want to try? With me?”

She swallows. “Yes.” She thinks he physically lights up, like a lightbulb with a new battery, but she holds a hand up. “But Tyler, things have changed. We’ve changed. Is this…is this really what you want? Am I really who you want?”

“I left Boston eight years ago in love with you. Here I am, eight years later in Dallas, still in love with you. Probably more in love with you, actually, which I didn’t think was possible.” He grabs her hands and lifts them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “When do you head back to New York?”

She blinks at the abrupt change of subject. “Um, I’m actually in Dallas for another week for a work conference. So not until next Sunday.”

He grins. “Stay at mine then. Please.”

“Tyler-”

“I’ll have to head back to Canada for a couple weeks for things I can’t reschedule, but then, if you let me, I’d love to come to New York and spend some time with you until I have to come back to Dallas for pre-season.”

“Tyler, that’s…how are you so confident and sure about all of this?”

“Because it’s you,” he says. “And I love you. I’m not wasting this chance that you’ve given me.”

She bites her lip, trying to take it all in. “I’m going to need to grab my stuff from the hotel tonight.”

“Deal. I’ve only had like, two beers in the last three hours anyways. I can drive you.”

“You know that I’m not just going to…drop everything to come to Dallas, right? My job and my life is all in New York.”

“I’d be a dumbass to expect that. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

She smiles, momentarily flashing back to the last time he said those exact same words and how similar and different they are now. She leans forward and kisses him sweetly, like he’s coming home from a game, like she’s in the middle of cooking dinner, like they’ve been doing this all their lives. She then pulls him up and drags him back to the dance floor. 

“Would you have called me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers into his chest, immediately knowing what he’s referencing. Eight years later and she still remembers that night like it was yesterday. “What if you were in a relationship or something? That would’ve been unfair to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t have been.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because I’ve always loved you. At this point, I’m pretty sure that I always will.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. And as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead, she hopes he understands what she’s trying to thank him for — for coming into that tattoo shop all those years ago, for all the nights and memories in Boston that involved takeout and Netflix and endless fits of laughter, for always believing in her, for waiting for her and being understanding even when she broke his heart. 

For loving her.

“By the way,” Tyler says as he twirls her around, hands immediately attaching to her waist once she’s facing him again. “I always loved you in maroon.”

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #dallas stars #tyler seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin blurb #hockey blurb #tyler seguin x oc

[kitnita]

tyler seguin pregame (x)   —   SEA vs DAL; game 7   —   05.15.23  

does today feel different or no? game seven, yeah. I think there’s a balance between … you know, you’ve gotta treat it, and prepare for it in some ways, you know, that it is just another hockey game. and then there’s the balance of how incredibly important the details of this hockey game will be, and, um — just looking at it as, uh, more of an opportunity than it being a ton of pressure. you know, in these moments you’ve gotta want to be the difference and not be, you know, worried about making mistakes.  

#hockey #stars #dallas stars #tyler seguin #z:edit

[midnightsnyx]

tyler seguin - happier

pairing: tyler seguin x reader requested: yes summary: your near perfect relationship shatters when an article is released word count: 1.1k warnings: cheating, swearing, angst

a/n: so this was a request someone sent in and if you guys know me, you know I'm a sucker for angst lol anyways ty for reading and I hope you like it!! big thanks to @bookluversposts for editing this! I am currently accepting requests which you can send here and my masterlist here & frequently asked questions here.

It started out like this:

Mornings spent together eating breakfast, stealing sips of his coffee when he was distracted on his phone even though he takes his drink black but you still liked the small smile on his face when he pretended not to notice. Getting take-out after a game, sitting in his truck in some random parking lot like two teenagers on a date because sometimes it was nice to forget about hockey and the media and pretend you both were just an ordinary couple. Late night calls when he was on the road, sharing details about each other's days and planning future days. Being there for each other on the bad days. After the tough losses or bad days at work. 

It wasn’t all perfect because there were still the arguments that ended in tears and silent treatments and sleeping in separate beds. The next mornings when you would sit in silence, not wanting to apologize and be the pushover in the relationship.

The nights you would lay in bed while he was on the road or out with friends wondering if the rumors about him were true. His friends joked that you were the girl who changed him but he always looked uneasy when they said that and it left doubts in the back of your mind. 

When you brought up marriage one night and he shrugged and said marriage is boring, isn’t this enough? So you had to convince yourself that it was enough for you, while you watched his teammates propose to their significant others and listen to the whispers from the girls wondering why he hadn’t asked you, saying maybe he didn’t want to settle down and wanted the single life.

So it ended like this:

A text message from Jamie one night while they were on the road and you were getting ready for bed, that had a link attached and two words.

I’m sorry.

It was obvious before you even let yourself open the link that you would find what you had been expecting. A clear picture of Tyler kissing a random girl, that you knew was recent and not some old picture because it showed one of his tattoos that he had only recently gotten. The article title, Seguin cheats on girlfriend as if they were announcing the morning weather.

You waited for a text from him, trying to say it wasn’t real or maybe even an apology but Jamie’s text was the only one you received. So you went to bed that night wondering if he was aware of the article and was afraid to text you or simply didn’t care. It was the latter, you realized when he didn’t text you for the rest of the road trip. 

When he got home in the early hours of the morning, you were curled up on the sofa with one of the dogs, coffee in hand. He didn’t see you at first, tossing his keys on the island and dropping his duffel bag by the door, but as he started walking to the kitchen, his footsteps faltered when he saw you sitting there.

“Exciting road trip?” You asked, watching as he opened and closed his mouth looking like a fish out of water gasping for air. You wanted to scream, cry and maybe throw something at him because you spent the last two days feeling like you were drowning.

He finally settled on, “you saw it?”

The laugh that escaped you was bitter and your next words felt like acid. “Saw it? I had it shoved down my throat since Jamie sent it to me. I’ve had to ignore calls from everybody who saw it and wanted to know if it was true.” You stood up, letting the blanket you had wrapped around you drop to the floor. “I wanted to get the full story before I said anything so tell me, was any of it real? Did you think about me sitting at home waiting for you while you went and slept with whoever you wanted?” He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “Given your history, I should’ve known better.”

“It- it was once.” He whispered, as if that would make it any better. “It didn’t mean anything, I swear. I love you.”

You watched as he took slow steps towards you, as if you were a spooked deer. When he was a foot away, you told him to stop and he did. 

You always prided yourself on the fact that you were good at reading people. Telling if they were good or bad. Lying or telling the truth. 

If they were a decent person or not and boy, did you fuck that up when it came to Tyler.

“You love me?” You asked, carefully keeping your voice steady.

“Yes.” He said, reaching for your hand and you let him take it, just like you let him take your heart and smash it in a million pieces. Like you gave him everything you had and trusted him to not ruin it. 

What a mistake that was.

You stepped back, making him drop your hand. “Try telling someone who’ll believe you.”

His face crumpled and you wondered if it was a facade, a ploy to try and get you to forgive him. For you to give him what was left of your heart, trusting that he wouldn’t break the rest. 

Without another word, you turned your back to him and walked out the door.

Six months later.

It’s a coffee shop, of all places that you bump into him. He’s with Jamie, standing at the counter ordering his black coffee and flirting with the girl serving him. You should feel sick, angry even but you feel nothing. Even though you dated for five years, you somehow found it easy to get over him. Maybe it was because you were always expecting it in the back of your mind, but it didn’t wallow for longer than two or three weeks. You moved on and found out who you were without him and you have never been happier. 

So when he turns around and his eyes land on you, you don’t react like you know he’s expecting you to. You walk up to the counter and order your drink, watching the barista he was flirting with still flustered and you want to tell her don’t fall for it like I did. But you just smile politely and take your drink, turning around only to find Tyler still standing there.

“Hey,” Jamie says, giving you a brief hug before looking at Tyler who is staring at you. He looks like he wants to say something or maybe hug you. You just smile and brush past him, walking outside into the warm Dallas day.

#tyler seguin imagines #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #dallas stars imagines #dallas stars fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagines masterlist #nhl imagines #allies writing

[teekays]

tyler seguin : )

MY ORIGINAL BOY MY FOREVER BOY...

First impression

okay so in truth my original first impression of him happened like 6 years before i got into hockey when i saw old hockey fan mutuals discussing him on tumblr and i fully thought he was an out bisexual man and i was like wow... it's so cool that that's accepted. and then i actually got into hockey and i was immediately like i want That One. the bisexual slut

Impression now

he is still The Bisexual Slut to me but also it's so cool to see how he's grown and like. really put his all into making dallas a home not only for himself but for his teammates Especially the new/younger guys... he just loves dallas and the team so much it's so nice to see!! i do think it's extremely funny how he never actually got over being a party boy he just learned how to be a Responsible party boy. absolute vibes guy

Favorite moment

how much time do we have. first thing that comes to mind is "i'm a professional athlete, i don't drink" i loveeee when men lie <3

Idea for a story

the stars are, to me, ripe for a college au. tyler Frat Social Chair seguin you will always be famous

Unpopular opinion

HES NOT THAT OLD STOP TREATING HIM LIKE HES DESTINED FOR THE GLUE FACTORY. announcers are so insane

Favorite relationship

tyler seguin x his little friends... jamie benn you're nothing to me

Favorite headcanon

kind of related but that he's actually much sweeter and more caring than people think... he likes his team So Much. also i diagnose him meghan thee stallion listener

#asks

[hockey-x-imagines]

Made to Last || Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn Pt. 22

A/N: I'm thinking there's going to be just 1 or 2 more parts to this story unless y'all want more. I definitely cried writing this.  

Song Inspo: Made to Last by Issues & You're Not Sorry Taylor Swift

Paring: Tyler x Reader Jamie x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, angst

Word Count: 1216

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N's P.O.V.

Last night you cried yourself to sleep, mourning the relationship you and Tyler once had. You came to a conclusion, whether you and Jamie work out or not, you still have to have this conversation with Tyler. Just the thought of what you're about to tell the man you used to think you were going to spend the rest of your life with guts you. Part of you wishes you could be a chicken shit and do this over the phone. As you wait for the door to open you try to collect your thoughts.

"Y/N now's not really a good time." Tyler's greeting is laced with annoyance. Not exactly the greeting you were hoping for. Though you can't really say you're surprised.

"Tell Nessa to put some clothes on, or tell her to wait. We need to have this conversation, and we need to have it now. I also need to get the rest of my things." Maybe this conversation will be easier than you thought. Rolling his eyes, Tyler steps to the side inviting you in.

"So this is it?" He asks.

"Tyler, I've wasted all this time waiting and hoping you'd come around. I've been giving out chances and every time all you do is let me down. And it's taken me this long to figure it out. You're thinking we'll be fine, because every time you fuck up I come running back, but not this time around. Could've loved you all my life if you hadn't left me waiting in the cold. You had me crawling for your love, and it never would've gone away. You used to shine so bright, but I watched all of it fade You can tell me you're sorry, but I don't believe you like I did before.  I don't want to hurt anymore. It's not just me I have to look out for anymore. Part of me was hoping we'd work out for our child, but you accusing me of cheating, and you running back to the arms of Nessa the second something seemed off between us is the last straw. So you don't have to worry about the 2 of us anymore. I'm done, we're done. The baby and I deserve so much better and more than you could ever give." You were proud of yourself, not a single tear was shed.

"I'm sorry." That's all he had to say. After 2 and a half years, all he had to say was he was sorry.  You had hoped that maybe he would've shown that he still cared, but he didn't.

"You're not, but that's okay. I'm really sorry. I'll grab my things and be out of your hair." You reach in your back pocket and grab the ring he gave you, "give this to someone you really want forever with, not because you feel guilty." With that, you go collect your things.

"What are you doing here?" Nessa hisses. Lovely.

"Don't worry you dumb bitch I'm just here to get my shit and go." You can't see what Tyler sees in her, maybe she's got a pussy of gold. That's the only thing that would be appealing about her.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyler's P.O.V.

"Y/N, before you go I feel like I need to give my side." Right now seemed like the best time to come clean. She's already leaving me, not that I blame her.

"It's not going to change anything Ty, I've made my mind up, and seeing Nessa here just cemented my choice."

"What I have to say is only going to make things worse." I take a deep breath, " I can't tell you why or when but I lost feelings for you, and around that time I started seeing Nessa again. I know it was wrong, but I just didn't see a way out. I figured if I was a big enough dick eventually you would've left me like you're doing now. I really am sorry I thought hurting you was the best option. That being said, you can drop the whole pregnancy facade." The look on Y/N's face tells me I struck a nerve.

"You're a fucking idiot." Is all she had to say before slamming my door in my face. We hadn't been having a lot of sex in the first place with her being stabbed and all, so there was no way she is pregnant with my child. There was a small voice in the back of my head telling me she wouldn't lie about something like that, but I refused to believe her. If I believed her, that makes me an even bigger asshole than I intended to be.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. Maybe Y/N forgot something? She's about the only person I could think of that would knock. To my surprise it's Jamie.

"Why the hell are you knocking?" I ask.

"We need to have a little chat." Something is off in his tone. My gut tells me whatever he's about to say isn't going to be something I like. Stepping to the side I let him in. "I've done a lot of thinking and I feel it's best that I tell you how I'm feeling." What the hell is he talking about?

"Okay? If you're about to tell me what a shitty person I am, Y/N did a pretty good job of that already, and sadly I don't give a shit." There is a small part of me that does feel bad for the shit I've done, but I don't really care.

"I'm glad she did. Tyler you fucked up, bad. But I'm not here to yell at you. I've already told Y/N, but I feel like you deserve to know that I'm in love with her." What. The. Fuck. "I don't know why or when but I'm in love with her. Like I said I already told her, and if she decided to have me, I'm going to treat her right."

"How long have you 2 been fucking?" Logically I know Jamie wouldn't do that to me, but right now I'm not thinking logically. Of all the people I could see Y/N moving on with, I never would've thought it'd be my best friend. I thought she'd leave Texas and I'd never see her again. That's what made this so easy. Seeing her happy and thriving is something I don't know if I can handle.

"You're a fucking idiot. You know better than that. She was or is madly in love with you, she would've never done you dirty the way you've done her dirty. I was happy to sit back and let you two be happy, but you went a fucked up again. So now if she'll let me, I'm going to step up to the plate and treat her the way you should've from the start."

"So you're just going to throw away our friendship over a little bit of pus-," before I could finish my sentence his fist connected with my jaw.

"You are the only person to blame for our friendship being what it is now. And don't you ever talk about Y/N that way. We both know she's more than that." I haven't seen Jamie this pissed since the morning Y/N left the first time.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin one shot #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #tyler x reader #jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn fic #jamie benn x reader #made to last #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars fic

[senditcolton]

Yo, number 30 just SCREAMS Tyler. Also…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL SOUL 💚😘💚

you are absolutely right, completely screams Tyler and I am so happy you chose him for this prompt. I hope you don't mind that I used it as a sort of sneak peek into "Eyes Full of Stars": a Tyler Seguin x OC fic I hope to have out next year.

I've made every girl melt from the notch in my belt but I swear that it's different this time.

Ivy found herself waking up in a hotel bed, the fluffy white sheets tangled around her body. An all too familiar place for her, one that she used to hate.

But when she feels a pair of arms tighten around her waist, pulling her closer to the center of the bed and a warm strong chest, there is a sense of calm that falls over her. And when she looks down to trace the ink swirling across his skin, she is caught up in the feeling that this was where she was meant to be.

She turns in Tyler’s arms, moving to angle her body towards him and look at his still sleeping face. She blinks gently a few times, content to let him get as much rest as he needs.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She didn’t even know Tyler was in the same hotel as her. She was there with someone else for an entirely different reception. But when her ‘date’ abandoned her for some type of corporate emergency, she found herself wandering around in her evening dress and stumbled upon an event being hosted by the Dallas Stars.

Some would call it fate and when Ivy saw Tyler’s eyes land on her from across the room, she was tempted to believe it. But there was no such thing. Call it coincidence and she would gladly believe it. But fate… it was an idea that she had abandoned a long time ago.

And when she says that this wasn’t supposed to happen, she didn’t just mean falling into bed with Tyler again the previous night. She meant this connection she had with Tyler in the first place. He was just supposed to be another of the many faces she met, another man that she could swindle for a few months before disappearing. That was the plan anyway.

But now, as she watches the morning sunlight filter through the window, watches how it dances across his frame, igniting the curls haloed around his head a warm mahogany brown, she can’t stop the pang in her heart.

One that she hadn’t felt in a long time. One that she didn’t even know she was still capable of feeling.

One that she knew wasn’t going to last.

It never lasted.

Ivy sighs, pulling herself out of this dizzying idealized dream before she fell too deeply. She disentangles herself from Tyler’s arms, scooting across the mattress and tossing the sheets off her body. With a quick look around the floor in front of her, she spies Tyler’s white button down and throws it over her frame, clasping it before lifting herself up off the bed.

She escapes into the bathroom, the tile feeling cold against her feet, a stark and welcomed wake up call. After swiping off the left over makeup on her face and pulling her long brunette hair into a messy bun, she returns to the bedroom to find Tyler awake, reclined against the headboard.

His head turns towards the sound of the bedroom door opening and a soft smile settles over his face when he sees her standing there, his shirt still on her body.

“Thought you might have left me,” he muses and there it is again, that sharp heartache at the hurt hiding underneath his teasing words.

“If you stayed asleep for a few more minutes, I would have,” she replies. There was no reason to lie to him. He knew exactly what she was. Because she was just like him; a hustler telling people what they wanted to hear in order to get what they desired. Whether that be money or connection or intimacy. It was all the same in their eyes.

Tyler doesn’t reply to Ivy’s words, his smile falling slightly. If she notices, she doesn’t react, instead disappears into the closet where she hung a change of clothes the evening before. She can feel Tyler’s eyes on her as she shrugs off the fabric of his button down, replacing it with her own blouse. His eyes stay glued to her frame as she redresses and it isn’t until she perches on the opposite side of the bed, slipping on her boots when she feels Tyler’s hand reaching out and caressing her waist.

“Stay,” he whispers and Ivy’s movements still at the hint of desperation laced in his words.

“I can’t,” she murmurs back, finding her energy again as she finishes lacing up her boots.

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

He did. He knew that she never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. It was just how she operated. And there was nothing he knew to say or do that would stop her. Nothing except…

“I’m falling in love with you.”

His quiet confession cuts through the air like a butchers knife, stilling Ivy’s movements once again. She can feel it; her heart beginning to pound in her chest, soft gasps of air filling her lungs as her mind spins. She slightly leans forward, attempting to catch her breath: in through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s all she can do as she still feels Tyler’s hand against her waist, so light and yet oh so heavy.

Finally, she finds her voice.

“No, you aren’t,” she whispers.

“What do you mean I’m not?” Tyler asks and she can feel the shifting of his weight on the mattress behind her.

Ivy wants to say that he can’t fall in love with her, that she’s heard the word love too many times from too many different men that the word has lost all meaning to her. That love was something that she stopped wanting a long time ago. That she didn’t know what to do with herself if what he said was true.

That she was scared. Because she was falling in love with him too.

But she didn’t voice any of those thoughts, instead choosing to sharpen her own words, deadly as rattlesnake venom when she turns to face him.

“How many girls just like me have you said that to?” she asks. She ignores the twinge in her chest as she watches Tyler’s face shift from sweet to hurt to angry.

“What is that supposed to mean, Ivy?”

“You know exactly what that means, Tyler,” she replies, her voice still hard, her eyes still steeled.

There is a silence, the accusation lingering between them before Ivy speaks again.

“You’re just like me,” she says, a humorless laugh falling from her. “You don’t believe it; whatever you say, you don’t believe. You just say it so you can keep the women in your bed a little while longer, keep me a little while longer. Because that’s what you are Tyler. A playboy, a hustler. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

Ivy lifts herself off the bed in a huff, grabbing her evening gown from where it was carelessly tossed the night before and shoving it into her duffle bag along with her heels, ignoring the sounds of bedsheets being moved, the sound of Tyler climbing out of bed. She ignores him for as long as she can before he is standing in front of her, his hands gripping her wrists to still her movements, his chest still bare.

“You think you know me,” he says, the hurt and anger mixing in his voice.

“I do know you, Tyler,” she asserts, voice strong but eyes never looking him in the face. “The Instagram stories, the free game tickets. I know all your tricks.”

“Because you use the same ones,” he finishes her sentence and it is then when her gaze shoots up to connect with his. And even though she is the one fully clothed, the way Tyler manages to read her so easily makes her feel as bare as him.

“Exactly,” she manages to choke out, not giving him the satisfaction to see her break. A reaction Tyler was clearly not expecting because he quickly let’s go of her wrists, taking a few steps back, the former anger just melting into just sadness.

“Is there nothing I can do to prove that what I say – what I feel for you – is real?”

Ivy doesn’t reply at first, instead moving quietly towards the hotel door, placing her hand on the knob. She could just leave, let her silence be the only answer he would receive.

But even she isn’t that heartless. Not yet, at least.

So she turns to him, her own pale green eyes reflecting a sadness that she didn’t want to admit lingered in her own heart at the prospect of leaving him. However, she couldn’t ignore the truth that she so desperately believed. The truth that she spoke before leaving Tyler alone in the hotel room.

“Oh darling,” she sighs. “How could that ever be real?”

#nicole writes #trinity of terror prompt night #i love writing Tyler and Ivy and I can't wait to share the rest of their story with you all #tyler seguin blurb #tyler seguin angst #dallas stars blurb #nhl blurb #hockey blurb