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tencrushesperday · 3 days

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Blood runs thicker than water

pairing : matt rempe x hughes!reader

warnings : angst, and some description of bruises, sort of forbidden lovers, 1k

a/n : instead of studying for my exams next week i do this, i was listening to The water is fine by Chloe Ament and felt inspired

You wanted to stay until the end of the match. You wanted to congratulate your brothers on the win. You wanted to party with the team after such a huge win against their rivals.

But the blood was pounding in your ears and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. The crowd was so loud. Jack’s last conquest and Bratt’s girlfriend were chatting next to you. Yet you were feigning interest in the game to ignore them. Even though you could barely focus your sight.

Luke had gotten into an unnecessary fight during second period and Jack was right there to back him up. Both were okay. But the other guy wasn’t.

As soon as the second intermission started you excused yourself to the restroom then texted Nicole on your way to your car saying that suddenly you weren’t feeling good.

Fortunately, you’ve driven down this road so many times you didn’t have to focus to get home because suddenly you were in your apartment. You were on autopilot the whole time doing your night routine and then you were in your bed trying to fall asleep.

Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes you would see him taking hit after hit. Him struggling to get up. His bloody face.

Then you heard keys turning in the lock and the front door shutting. You got up from your bed and marched out of your room, ready to send one of your bothers home.

“Matt”, you stopped dead in your tracks right outside your bedroom door.

There he stood, in front of the entrance, cheeks bruised, lip cracked.

“I’m sorry”, he only managed to whisper it.

He wanted to say a thousand other things but everything was pointless and painful. Looking at you was painful. Nothing was more appropriate than “sorry”.

He was the one who hit first. Even though Luke asked for it. He chirped Matt’s girlfriend without even knowing it was his own sister and Matt couldn’t let it slide. He also couldn’t tell Luke the truth.

The truth being you weren’t even his girlfriend.

You were just hooking up, keeping it casual, secret.

He would have loved it, have it been any other girl.

But he was so desperately in love with you. He wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and have you cheering on him at his game. He loved waking up next to you and the casual evenings you spent at each other’s apartments, watching a movie, cooking together and telling each other about your days. He loved when you talked about hockey and he would promise you to take you play again, like when you used to do when you were younger. He even loved the stupid reels and tiktok’s you would send him in the morning on your commute to work because then he knew that you thought about him.

However, it has never gotten out of your apartments. His promise to take you to the rink to play hockey together was never fulfilled.

That he hated.

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t sleep because you kept seeing him getting hurt. But now that he was actually in front of you and even in the dim light coming in from the street you could see the bruises.

Not breaking eye contact you get closer to him as he silently takes off his shoes. He knows the rules in your home. He has a spare key. He knows you inside and out and he still can’t call you his and that’s worse than any hit from your brother, he thinks to himself.

“You left before third period.” He wants to wrap his arms around you and feel the warmth of your body to forget the cold of the ice.

You look at him before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So did you.”

You drop his hand and reach for two glasses in your cupboard.

He watches your every movement and anticipates your every word. You’re too calm but he knows there’s a storm brewing inside of you. You always go quiet when you’re upset and feeling too much. He knows that growing up with three brothers toughened you up and that, even if you’re working on it, subconsciously you still think that showing emotion is a weakness. Still he awaits your next words and actions. You have him wrapped around your finger so tight he almost wants to laugh at his poor situation.

You turn on the tap and let the water running until it’s at the right temperature before filling up your glass.

Matt can’t wait anymore. His patience thins with every drop of water. It’s pouring out of the faucet and going down the drain.

He’s right behind you when you turn around. You wanted to ask him if he wants water but your words die in your throat. He looks even worse up close.

If you weren’t holding in your breath you would have sobbed at the sight.

Despair fills his eyes when you look up to him. He crashes his lips on yours and you can taste it right there.

You’re not mad he fought Luke. You know how it is on the ice, you know how Luke can be a little shit when chirping, you know how Matt can fly off the handle in such a situation.

You taste a metallic taste in your mouth as the slit on his lip cracks open at the fierceness with which he kissed you.

It doesn’t matter who he fought, he’s hurt and that’s what upsets you.

The metallic taste mixes with the saltiness of the tear that slid down your cheek. He catches the next one with the thumb that is caressing your skin, as he cradles your face.

Your fingers run through his hair. You can’t let him go. You tug him closer. You can’t tell your bothers. Not now. Every thought in your head contradicts the previous one. His other hand is wrapped around your whole body and pulls you impossible closer. You’re caught up in such a mess, one you made yourself.

But for tonight you’ll kiss Matt even harder. You’ll take care of his bruised lip. You’ll kiss the pain away.

Leaving the mess for tomorrow morning.

#matt rempe #matt rempe x reader #hockey imagine

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tencrushesperday · 3 months

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annual re read of my fav fanfiction ever

i could love you with my eyes closed - sebastian aho

Sebastian doesn't like your boyfriend - he's forgetful, stands you up, and doesn't know a thing about you. When will you see that he's the right guy to figure you out?

pairing: sebastian aho x reader

warnings: shitty boyfriend, angst, a lot of self-reflection disgused as fic

word count: 4k

a/n: happy fic exchange to everyone participating and happy birthday to me! for @sebbyaho i hope this is the sepe fic of your dreams! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only organizing this thing but catching my typos in the google doc. song title and inspo from figure you out by voila. love you guys, pls let me know what you think! <3

Sebastian doesn’t like the guy you’re dating.

It’s not exactly a fair sentiment, what with how polite Owen has always been to him. Owen’s a big fan of the Canes, truth be told, a Staal jersey or two hanging in his closet and season tickets that had been the reason behind your fated meeting two years ago.

At the time your roommate Jessica had just started seeing Teuvo, still in that phase where he wanted to impress her, and so he’d gotten the both of you tickets that happened to be next to Owen’s. One spilt beer and three periods of solid hockey and he had your number in his phone with the promise of a date.

That same night you’d also met Sebastian for the first time, awkwardly chatting with Jessica while surrounded by some of the most beautiful and intimidating women you’d ever seen who were all waiting for their own respective significant others. He’d come out of the locker room before Teuvo, likely a result of Teuvo being picked for additional media duty as a consequence of the three point night he’d put up (including one goal where he’d pointed in your direction causing Jessica to lock up with a deep blush on her cheeks). Sebastian had greeted your roommate fondly, pulling her into a hug and teasing her for the celly aimed in her direction before turning and introducing himself to you.

It was kind of like time had slowed then, the rest of the world fading into a dull blur while you smiled and told him your name.

If you were being honest, that initial meeting and the strange way he seemed to always drift toward you in the weeks that followed were the reason behind Owen’s inability to ‘lock you down’ as Jessica had oh so eloquently put it. Except, nothing ever moved further than the quiet small talk and the sweet way he would check on you during nights out after wins.

And so you go on one date with Owen, and then another, and then another, and then you blink and you’ve been dating Owen for nearly two years and Jessica is moving in with Teuvo.

You’re upset. Understandably so, since you’ve lived with Jessica for the entirety of your adult life, having moved out of your parents home and directly into this apartment with her your first year of university.

Sebastian doesn’t like your boyfriend because Owen is nowhere to be found while you help Jessica pack her things, pretending like no one can see you discretely wipe your eyes every few minutes. Change has never really been something you’ve been good at dealing with, and it’s not that you’re not extremely happy for your best friend taking this next step in her relationship with Sepe’s best friend, because you certainly are. You’re just not really ready to come home to an empty apartment, no sound of paws tapping on the hardwood, no Zombieland playing for the tenth time that month on the TV in the living room, no “you wanna order PDQ” text at 10 pm.

He can see it written clearly on your face that you’re close to actual tears as you help pack her closet, and so he makes the executive decision that you two will be the ones to go pick up takeout, ignoring both your and Jessica’s protests that you can just order DoorDash.

It’s quiet as Sepe navigates through downtown Raleigh in search of your favorite Vietnamese restaurant, just the sound of the radio softly playing some top 100 pop song that you seem to know the melody of, if not the lyrics. He speaks your name quietly and it’s like the dam breaks, water rushing through the cracks in the foundation and drowning out the landscape in its wake.

“I don’t want her to go, is that selfish of me?” you ask without looking at him, unable to handle the judgmental look you’re certain he’s wearing.

“Maybe a little,” he says carefully, cracking a small grin as you exasperatedly say his name, finally looking at his side profile while his eyes are carefully on the road ahead of him.

“It’s not that I don’t want her to be happy-” you start to explain yourself, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“I know.” His tone of voice is reassuring if a bit condescending as he continues, “You know that this won’t change anything right? She’ll still be your best friend.”

“But she won’t be right there,” you protest weakly, picking at your nail beds.

“A little distance isn’t going to mean anything, look at Teuvo and me, still best friends and we haven’t lived together since I was a rookie.”

“That’s different, you still see each other every day.”

He risks looking away from the road for a minute, meeting your eyes briefly to let you know he means business. “You don’t really think there’s anything that could come between your friendship, do you?”

It’s nothing earth shattering, not really anything you hadn’t already heard or already thought on your own, but for some reason it’s far more meaningful coming from Sebastian. You return with the takeout and finish packing the rest of Jessica’s things. After the boys leave, she crawls into your bed - one last sleepover before she’s gone for good, and you don’t even think about Owen or his glaringly obvious absence until he’s lighting up your phone with empty platitudes and a promise to take you to some fancy new restaurant you don’t even have an interest in going to.

Your birthday is kind of a big deal.

When you were a kid, your mom would wake you with a fat stack of pancakes and let you skip school for the day, doing anything and everything you could think of instead. You’re a bit older now, have a few more responsibilities these days, but that doesn’t stop you from keeping up the tradition, using a day of PTO and meeting Sebastian at a fancy breakfast place downtown.

It was his idea to meet for brunch - when he’d found out that Owen didn’t have any plans for you on your birthday, he’d taken it upon himself to invite you instead. Sepe is thoughtful like that, sweet and kind and the best listener you’ve ever met. He remembers things about you, like birthday traditions and the brand of lip balm you like best.

You feel a pang at your heart for a moment, a twisting of your stomach in the comfortable silence that falls between you two after ordering. If pressed, you would say it was just a hunger pain, but truthfully it’s probably more related to the soft smile on his face that he directed at your giggling waitress, her finger curling a solitary lock of hair around it while she took your order.

And it’s silly, ridiculous even because he’s not yours, not your boyfriend, not your anything but a friend. You’ve got a boyfriend, even if he’s too busy with work to be the one to take you out for birthday pancakes.

Sebastian sees the little crinkle between your eyebrows, the little pout on your face and incorrectly attributes it to Owen’s absence. He thinks your boyfriend is an idiot and can’t comprehend a world where anything could ever be considered more important than you. The words almost escape his lips, but he knows it wouldn’t do anything but upset you.

You’re upset a lot these days, he’s noticed. Jessica too.

There’s not a doubt in Sebastian’s mind that if you knew that he and Jessica talked about how worried they were about you that you would be embarrassed, maybe even a little angry. Not necessarily at your best friends, not even at Owen who would surely deserve to face the ire of your wrath. No, you would likely be angry at yourself for causing concern in the first place, for not hiding things better. You demand the best for everyone around you, offering your share of love and then some, but accept less than the bare minimum when it comes to yourself.

“Is he going to make any time for you today?” he can’t help but snap, regretting the words the instant they leave his mouth as your shoulders fall and you somehow make yourself even smaller in the cold vinyl booth.

“That’s not fair, he’s just busy. Not everyone can be an NHL superstar, some people are working at 11 in the morning on a Friday.” You’re aiming for teasing, but land somewhere between bitter and sad.

The way he then speaks your name says volumes, but you’re not ready to hear any of it.

“Jessica’s ignoring me,” you state stiffly a minute or two of silence later. Sebastian sighs, he knows a deflection when he hears one. He also knows the reason for her radio silence, knows your best friend is like an excitable puppy when she’s got a secret.

And so he plays along, shrugs with a small smile on his face and says she’s probably just busy at work, before pointing at your plate, “Your pancakes are getting cold.”

You don’t know what his angle is, but you play along dutifully anyway, dramatically stabbing your pancakes while glaring at him. The glare doesn’t last though, not with the smile he sends your way as if your childish antics don’t do anything more than endear him to you further.

After brunch, he takes you to the museum. There’s a new exhibit you’ve been dying to see, dropping hints left and right for Owen that went unanswered. Truly, you can’t remember mentioning it to Sebastian more than once, and your stomach flips with the implications that someone actually listens when you speak.

Lastly, he drops you off at home and makes you promise to arrive at your favorite restaurant at 7 pm sharp. With an eye roll, you cross your heart and rush inside, collapsing on the couch for a well-deserved birthday nap.

It’s closer to 7:15 than 7:30 when you arrive, but you’re not concerned. Not even when the lights are off when you open the door. Not even when a room full of your friends and family shout ‘surprise!’ Not even when you’re immediately thrown off balance by your best friend tossing herself at you.

You’re not concerned until you realize your boyfriend isn’t among them.

Sebastian can see it in your eyes, that little flicker of hope as you look out among the people who have shown up for you tonight. He feels part of his own heart break as he watches it be snuffed out. Because the one you’re looking for isn’t here tonight. Owen isn’t here tonight and Sebastian hates him for it.

You pretend like it’s fine, like you don’t feel your heart breaking that little bit further. And it works, mostly. To the average party goer, it’s a good night and your smile lights up your face. Sebastian isn’t fooled, though. He sees the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, sees the flashes of disappointment when you think no one else is looking.

Really, it’s a good party - thoughtful and fun and everyone has a great time. There’s no mistaking the bitterness when you go to bed alone without so much as a happy birthday text from Owen, though.

He ‘makes it up’ to you with tickets to some rap show, but you can’t help but think of how Sepe promised to take you to see your actual favorite band with Jessica and Teuvo.

You wonder sometimes how different life would be if you’d come on a little stronger when you first met Sebastian. If you’d be dating by now, if you’d be his plus one to the team Christmas party instead of Teuvo’s plus one’s plus one. If you would have coordinated matching ugly Christmas sweaters and baked cookies together and drove here together, hands held tightly over the gear shift.

Because Owen went home to see his family in Atlanta for Christmas Day, you’d done Christmas this morning, exchanging gifts while watching Christmas movies. It was disappointing to say the least, a real mess of a day where you’d all but screamed at Owen that you didn’t want to take the next step and move in with him. He’d cried, you’d cried, the neighbors dog had cried and barked because the walls of your apartment were so thin.

And so you’re ready to have a good time tonight, dressed in a fashionable sweater with candy cane earrings hanging from your earlobes.

Jessica getting hit with a near-crippling back spasm before supper’s even ready is not quite in your holiday party plans. Neither is the shit-eating grin on Teuvo’s face as he assures you “Fishy won’t mind driving you home if you want to stay longer,” or Sebastian’s responding confirmation nod.

The eggnog you drink and the mistletoe you dodge and the songs you dance to are, though. A significant portion of your evening is spent chasing around the various children, roping Sepe into your antics and even forcing a reindeer headband on him for pictures. You’re running from your problems if you’re being honest, and Sebastian knows you well enough to know this to be the case.

“Spit it out,” Sebastian finally states after helping you into your jacket and leading you to his car. “What did he do to upset you?”

You think about lying, about brushing it off like nothing’s wrong, but the look in his eyes says he isn’t going to let this go easily. “He tried to buy us a condo. A penthouse... And I’m-”

“Afraid of heights,” he states at the same time you do. Really you should be shocked that your friend knows you better than your boyfriend of two years, but it’s not the first time Sebastian hit a bullseye while Owen’s darts hit the ceiling.

“Yeah,” you admit, “And I’m not sure I want to leave my apartment.” Read: you’re not sure you want to leave your apartment and move in with Owen. And really, that should be a blaring warning, a flagrant red flag that after two years you’re not certain you want to move in with him. But you love him, right? And he loves you, misguided intentions and all. Besides, it’s not like you have a line of suitors at the door begging for your time and attention.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it. He’s sorry your boyfriend is a moron, sorry you don’t think you deserve better, sorry he was too shy and nervous to ask you out before things got serious with Owen.

It’s quiet as you walk to his car, a very quietly muttered thank you passing from your lips as he opens the door for you. For a moment you both just sit there, the car not even running while he sits and contemplates his next move. Before you really know what’s happened, he’s reaching into the backseat and for a second you wonder if Jessica and Teuvo set you up. The genuine look of pain that had been on her face convinces you that’s not exactly the case, but something about it all feels too convenient.

“I uh- I got you something,” Sebastian says quietly, all shy-like with rosy cheeks. The gift box he holds isn’t very big, doesn’t have any breathing holes and it isn’t barking, so it can’t be the puppy you’d jokingly told everyone who would listen you wanted for Christmas.

“Sepe,” you say tone equally as soft, trying to hide the way your hands are shaking by holding them in your lap. “You really didn’t have to get me anything, I didn’t even get you a gift.”

He kind of clears his throat and gulps all at the same time in a gesture that reads nervous more than anything. “You don’t have to get me anything, just say you’ll use the gift and that will be enough.”

Your curiosity is piqued now, but you have no idea what’s in the box and can’t just readily agree like that. What if it was some kind of cruel trick or practical joke? “I can’t just agree, Sepe,” you try to argue.

“Just say yes.” He’s so genuine in his delivery that you find yourself nodding. He nods himself, satisfied with your answer and hands it to you. When you pull off the gift bow, you notice that it’s a little crooked, bringing a smile to your face.

That smile quickly drops as you open it fully and take in the gift in your hands. It’s confirmation for a round trip to Finland in the upcoming summer. Somehow you stutter through the words “I can’t accept this, it’s too much and I can’t get the time off. Thank you, really, but I can’t-”

“Jessica already got you to take the time off, and I want to show you my home.” It’s the earnestness with which he speaks coupled with the knowledge that, yeah, you did already have the two weeks off as a result of Jessica’s meddling. You’d thought you were going on a road trip, but you should have known better - she couldn’t be that far from a bathroom.

For a second you panic. The excuse you’d given Owen when you turned down the penthouse was the exorbitant nature of the gift. How was an all expense paid trip to a place you’d always dreamed of visiting any different?

The giant grin that slowly takes over Sebastian’s face as you agree to go has your heart telling you the truth.

The difference is the man offering you the gift.

Finland is beautiful.

Sebastian’s friends and family are wonderful and seeing his childhood home is just one small piece of the painting that has been revealing itself to you. It’s his attentiveness toward you - always making sure your needs are being met whether it’s taking you to explore the beauty of Finland’s nature or the cuisine, making sure you’re comfortable in every social situation he puts you in, or noticing when you need something before you’ve even realized it yourself. It’s the little things he remembers, like the way you like your tea or your aversion to certain foods or the way you like to wake up gently with the sun over an alarm clock.

Finland is where you realize that Owen just isn’t doing it for you, and he hasn’t for a long time.

It’s a terrifying realization and yet one that makes your chest feel a little less tight, your mind a little lighter. Of course, you’re not the type of girl to break up over text when you’re across the globe. Even if Owen hadn’t responded to your message in more than a day (you’d tried to explain it away to yourself that it was just the time zone until you and Sebastian had gone for lunch with Teuvo - with Jessica responding to your snapchat despite it being barely past 4 am in North Carolina simply because she was a little jealous) you couldn’t be that cruel.

It’s on your mind for the last few days of your trip, leaving you slightly distant and not entirely there in conversation. Sebastian brushes it off as you not wanting to return to the grind of your regular life, and you all but encourage that thought when he brings it up.

Eventually all good things must end, and you find yourself tearing up as you hug Sebastian tightly in the drop off lane at the airport. It feels a lot like the end of something as you prepare to go home and break up with your long term boyfriend, but it also feels a lot like the start of something better if his tight grip on you is any indication.

You’re not hanging all your hope on Sebastian’s back, though. Even if you’ve misread every sign, even if the gentle way he loves you is nothing more than platonic, you can’t keep accepting the half-assed nature of Owen’s love. You deserve someone who listens when you speak, who remembers tiny details about you, who makes you a priority in his life. Even if that person isn’t Sebastian, you now know with certainty it’s not Owen.

Breaking up with Owen is weird.

He cries a bit, and is more than a little confused. His ignorance is almost infuriating, the excuses dropping from his mouth like the North Carolina rain in July. Choosing a semi-public location for the breakup is one of your smarter ideas when it comes to this man, because it doesn’t afford him the opportunity to make too large of a scene.

“There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” he finally asks.

“Owen,” you sigh dramatically into your cup of coffee. “What’s my favorite song?”

He’s silent and that’s the moment you know it’s really and truly over. It’s such a stark contrast from the way Sebastian had swatted at your hand when you wanted to skip Anchor by Novo Amor while your spotify playlist blared from his car speakers, smirking and stating he knew it was your favorite song ‘of the moment, at least’.

“I’m sorry,” you say but don’t really mean it, “I’ll drop off your stuff when I have a chance this week.”

When Sebastian flies back for training camp, it’s you who meets him at the airport. It’s a tame reunion, a hug that you lean a little too much into and then you’re driving him home.

In his kitchen, he offers you a drink and you accept a water. Before he’s even reached the cupboard to pull down a glass he’s turning on you.

“He doesn’t know a thing about you,” Sebastian’s voice is impassioned, his every emotion written across the planes of his face, down the slope of his nose and in the curve of his lips.

“Sebastian-” you try to interject, try to tell him that Owen hasn’t been in the picture for weeks at this point.

“No, listen,” he states, and you do. “I could love you with my eyes closed and it kills me to see you waste your time with Owen who probably couldn’t even pick Jessica out of a lineup. He wants you to spend time with his friends, but never makes the effort with yours. It feels like I’ve known you forever, and I know there’s still a lot to figure out about you, but I want to show you that I’m the right guy to do it.”

Your heart is doing this funny thing where it’s simultaneously beating in your ears and yet it feels like it’s lodged in your throat. Because these are all the words you’ve been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime. Here is this beautiful, kind, sweet man who is doing the one thing you’ve always wanted - he’s paying attention. And it feels so bottom of the barrel, literally the bare minimum, the bar is beneath the floor at this point, but you don’t care.

“I broke up with Owen when I got home,” you tell him. His eyes flicker to you quickly, dangerously, hopefully.

“Oh.”

“I want you to be the right guy too, Sepe.” It’s the clearest way you know how to say it, can’t really form the words any other way. They’re on the tip of your tongue, though. I want you. I think I could love you. I’ve been waiting for you.

“Oh.”

“Can you say something else please?” your voice comes out more of a plea than authoritative, cracking the tiniest bit on the last word.

The problem is he doesn’t have the words either. Or at least, not in English. A million and one Finnish phrases die in his throat, and so he does the next best thing. He crowds into your space, places his hands on either side of your neck and presses his lips to yours.

The first kiss is sweet, soft, hesitant. When he pulls back you chase his lips, and suddenly it’s a lot more. Harder, heavier, sweeter. You kiss and you kiss and you kiss, and you both know you should really talk about this further.

But with his eyes closed and his lips on yours he thinks, yeah, he really could love you.

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