#Shoresy x reader

[jerseyshoresy]

Hello Everyone! This is a new blog dedicated to Shoresy and Letterkenny fanfics.

There is an extreme lack of stories revolving these characters and I want to try to fill the gap a bit! This is a secondary blog and I don’t foresee myself dedicating my entire life to writing on here, but I’m hoping to entertain some of you on occasion. Thanks for reading and I’ll leave you with some new reader insert content below!

Warnings: cursing

Imagine…

Going to a Bulldog’s practice and chirping Shoresy from the stands

“If you don’t stop looking at me instead of focusing, I won’t be mad if the puck knocks out the rest of your teeth.”

The man in the 69 sweater had been sparing you glances the entire hour of practice, his head obviously not in the game. He kept messing up simple maneuvers, his mind running wild with fantasies of the two of you, both wholesome and not so much. You certainly didn’t mind the attention but you knew how important winning was to Shoresy—the team couldn’t afford to lose again.

“You’re just so fucking pretty, I can’t help it. You know I would treat you so good,” Shoresy said, a shine in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Treat me good? If you can’t even touch a puck, how are you supposed to know how to touch me?”

Shoresy couldn’t have been more fired up at your chirp.

“God, I would treat you so good. I would take my clothes off and slide on this ice naked for a chance to open the car door for you. I would take a puck to the face every day if it meant I could do your laundry.”

“If you just stop skating slower than a person being dragged under a zamboni then maybe we can work something out.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ beauty,” Shoresy replied before skating back to his teammates, ready to keep practicing and hopefully getting your number later.

[onebourbon-oneshot-onetear]

Dating Shoresy Headcannons

Writing this because it is CRIMINAL how little Shoresy/Letterkenny content there is on this website. I go feral for this man it isn't even funny. I mean, look at his smile...

Shoresy loves cuddling. He loves to be the big spoon AND the little spoon, depending on his mood.

He’s happy? He’s the big spoon all night long, pulling you so you’re tucked under his chin and his arms are wrapped around you. 

He’s feeling kind of down? You better hold onto him. He will burrow himself in your side and wrap your own arms around him if he needs to. Bonus points if you stroke his hair without him having to ask. He’s so soft. 

Very much into casual PDA. Despite his reputation, with you he isn’t as in your face with it. He likes the small gestures with you. He’s sitting? You get pulled into his lap. Standing next to him? His arm is around your waist. He’s leaving the room? Mandatory kiss on your cheek. 

His family loves you. His adopted family is very important to him so he loves how well you get along with them. Even to the point where they give you a special nickname, just like everyone else. You go to every Shore reunion, make up dances with Kayla, and are even helping Carrie and Free plan their wedding. 

You started calling him Waffles, and as sweet as that was, once you started doing it around the team he shut that down real fast. 

Speaking of the team, they also love you. The boys are now officially your big brothers. If you need help with anything, there will be at least two of them there. Sometimes they’re helpful. Sometimes they're not. But at least they try in their own way. And if a guy looks at you the wrong way then Lord help him because he will have 8 grown men beating the hell out of him. 

With that being said, if Shoresy catches a man being disrespectful to you, it is an immediate punch being thrown. No questions asked. And if the other team is chirping about you? Shoresy will be in the penalty box for the rest of the game, no questions asked (along with half the team).

You're their unofficial nurse, patching them up after scraps, games, and helping them with the occasional hangovers. Your nurse duties include homemade ice packs, the occasional wrapped ankle, and massages, but only for Shoresy. 

As much as he talks a tough game he's such a softie. He has no problem being vulnerable with you. Talking about your future together, his stress about games, his doubts. He lays it all out for you and you are always there for him. It’s one of the things he fell for when he first met you. 

You always babysit Big Sexy when Shoresy’s out of town. She even learned to say your name. Shoresy seemed a little betrayed, but when he saw how excited you were about it he was so amused. 

You go to every one of his games. In the time you’ve known him, you don’t think you had ever missed a single one. He always said that you didn’t have to go to all of them, especially the away ones, but you know that he loved seeing you there, so you went every time. Your bum was always in a seat. Even on nights he was reffing the high school games, you were there. It always made him smile, seeing you cheer out of the corner of his eye. And if he scored a goal, he’d celebrate with his team and then give you the biggest smile. 

Even Nat saw how much you meant to him. She had always known the serious hockey player, but she hadn’t seen him be serious over a significant other like this. If he wasn’t at practice, then he was with you. If there was a lull in conversation that he couldn’t fill with hockey or a smart ass comment, he was talking about you. It was nice to see that side of him. 

You are constantly stealing his hats and his sweatshirts. They smell like him, a mix of his cologne, his mint dip, and the crisp air that always lingered from the rink. You often wore them to bed and to lounge around the house and he thought it was so sexy. He loved seeing his last name (and the 69) on your back. He would think it’s the sexiest thing you could wear, until he saw you trying on his hockey sweater. He knew he would never see a hotter sight than that. 

You make sure to always have a can of dip in your car or in your apartment for him. You don’t condone it, warning him of the dangers of cancer and stuff like that, but you knew he liked to have it on hand. He definitely tried to dip less when he was around you. 

He makes sure to tell you he loves you every day. Usually multiple times a day. He’ll even send you random texts throughout the day telling you he loves you. 

He loves it when you lay in bed and trace his tattoos with your fingers. He gets the biggest shivers but it warms his heart so much. 

Believe it or not at first he was so self conscious about his missing tooth. He always wore his denture so he didn’t scare you off, but the first time you saw him without it, you demanded he never wear it around you again. You loved his missing tooth. It was a part of him, and you thought it made his adorable smile all that much cuter. 

His chirping skills have definitely rubbed off on you. Sometimes you even surprise yourself with the things that come out of your mouth, but he just laughs, pulls you into his chest, and gives you a small kiss on your temple. The man is so proud that you are just as much of a smart ass as he is. If someone is being super rude or annoying the two of you will tag team the put downs so it can be a full ten minutes of nothing but insults and sarcasm. 

The man is a space heater. He can stand outside in the snow with absolutely no problem. Your fingers are cold, he’ll grab your hand and they’re thawed in minutes. When you have cold toes in bed, you’ll put them on his calves and in minutes they are warmed up. Even if he jumps at the sudden cold but he doesn’t really mind, as long as you are happy. 

[redpool]

I need someone to start writing for Shoresy, there's like two fics on Wattpad, there's maybe three on AO3 and there's one writer on here, I crave more.

[miraclesabound]

That Hits The Spot

Summary: You wonder what Shoresy means when he tells someone he'll be good to them, and you get a demo.

Pairing: Shoresy/F!Reader, background Shoresy/Laura Mohr.

Notes: The lack of Shoresy x Reader fics baffles me, so I decided to add some enrichment to the tag! Also on AO3.

Warnings: Canon-typical language, mention of injuries, alcohol consumption, unrequited (?) romantic interest, Shoresy is NOT a licensed massage therapist

Tags: @pettyprocrastination @magpie-to-the-morning

"Hey Shoresy?"

"Yeah?"

"Got a question for ya." You're sprawled out on his sofa while he grabs a beer for each of you from the fridge. For once, the apartment is quiet - the others are out doing God knows what, and Shoresy told you he doesn't expect them back for hours. "Heard you say something to Laura Mohr and been ponderin' it."

Shoresy snorts. "Didn't your parents tell ya it's rude to listen in on other people's conversations?"

He comes over and sits down, and you grab your beer from him. "How can I not when you're declaring your eternal devotion for the whole stadium to hear, ya nut??" He's already opened your bottle for you, and you take a long sip.

"Nah, but really," you continue, "I heard you tell her 'I swear to God I'd be so good to ya' and I just...wondered what that actually meant?"

He shrugs as he settles into one of the side chairs. " 'S not that complex," he says. "Just, ya know, the standard stuff - foot massages at the end of the day, helpin' her with the kids, glass o' wine or hooch if she wants it...bein' present, you get it."

"I do," you admit. "Sounds fuckin' divine, in fact."

"Ya say that like ya don't have it right now."

Damn him, he's observant. "Nope," you tell him. "This old girl's gotta handle things on her own - which isn't easy when I've managed to fuck up my back and neck." You wince as you sit up. "Doesn't help that every damn chiropractor in this town is booked up."

"Maybe I can fix it?" Shoresy asks. "C'mon, make room..." Before you can stop him, he sits down next to you and has you turn your back to him. "Specific spots or is the whole column fuckin' with ya?"

"Neck, shoulders and lower back."

"Gotcha." He starts with your shoulders, huffing in annoyance when he feels the tension there. "Holy fuck, woman, you been sleepin' on a rock pile?"

You chuckle at his indignation. "Might as well - I think the bed at my place is older than I am."

"Swear to God I'm gonna kick your landlord's ass for that," Shoresy mutters, mostly to himself.

The idea of Shoresy getting protective over you makes your stomach flip - he's never talked that way before. To avoid analyzing that feeling, you crack a joke: "Less vengeance talk and more spinal realignment, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah...lemme just...." He digs a thumb into a sore spot and you yelp.

"Shoresy, what the fuck!"

"Cool your jets, 'm tryin' to find where the actual muscle pull is..." He keeps poking, and you're about to stand up from the couch and shove him away when he lets out a noise of triumph. "Found it!"

"You're full of shit, man, I- oh!" Your protest cuts off as you slump into him - the sudden lack of stiffness in your shoulder makes you feel like a popped balloon.

He makes sure to catch you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. "Told ya I could fix it. Want me to get the rest?" You nod, and within five minutes, your whole back feels better than it has in ages.

"How ya feelin'?" he asks as your eyes close.

"Fuckin' divine," you tell him. "I'll give Laura my endorsement for you first thing in the morning..."

You drift off on his chest, so you don't know if you actually hear him say "No rush..." or if it was just your imagination.

[wwefangirl69]

Any ideas on what Shoresy's kinks in the bedroom would be? He's a walking contradiction for sure.... I see him as crying at a first kiss, and crying during sex. What else do you see?

[flowerfreya]

Shoresy x reader

Age gap ??

Shorsey refs on the side , maybe he’s referring one of her games and she gets hit hard, loses a tooth and bloody

He says to her get sewn and when you come back smile for the camera

Oh yeah …. I’m feeling it

[ksascriptt]

“Settle Down,,

Character: Brant “Goody” Goodleaf x F!Reader/Afab!Reader

Warnings: Smut mdni !! lil bit of fluff, sexual behavior, swearing, if u squint a hand kink, fingering, goody has bde, slight size kink?? p in v, porn w some plot, I tried to limit anything that wouldn’t include certain readers! Goody’s in love 🩷🩷, no aftercare shown but it’s implied :), no beta we die like McDreamy

Word count: 1,102

Summary: You and Goody watch a movie at your condo, which is long forgotten.

A/N: I’m sorry bro he is just such a fuckin munch 🩷

———————————————————

Sitting on the dark grey couch in your condo, you gave the man next to you a mildly annoyed glare. Not so much mildly annoyed as desperate, but annoyed nonetheless. Brant, or Goody as he was typically called, had a reputation for being possibly the most chill guy in the world. His demeanor never broke, especially not when you wanted it to, or when he was pulling shit like this.

The two of you had made the executive decision to watch a movie at your place, and on the surface, it was a pretty good idea. As getting 45 minutes into a 2 hour long movie proved, it was not a good idea. Goody had spent the better part of the night with one arm around you, his other hand in his lap. As you contorted to get comfortable on the couch with him, his hands had started to wander, naturally. On your waist, your thighs, one resting on your hip.

You loved Goody, you really did, but he made it unbearable to just sit alone with. He got so handsy when it was just the two of you. Laying across his lap, there was one hand on your thigh, inching higher. “Goods, just watch the movie,” you said with a pointed look. Neither one of you was paying too much attention to the film on the TV, but you made the attempt to at least try.

Goody was bored out of his mind. That was the fact he wasn’t sure he could make clearer. He was desperate to haul you to the bedroom and have a much better time there than he was now. But, seeing your miniscule expressions as his warm hands creeped closer to where you needed it, made it almost worth it. Your words were strained as you spoke, and Goody knew exactly why. “You know I can’t.” A toothy grin fell upon his face, hand massaging your upper thigh.

Sitting up from your sprawled position, you reached for the TV remote to press pause on the discarded movie. His eyes met yours as he helped you swing a leg over his, straddling his lap. Your hands met at the back of his neck just as his large hands found your hips, thumbs starting to pull down your waistband. “God, you’re unbelievable, Brant,” you spoke with a grin, leaning in to kiss him harshly. The light scratch of his beard was welcomed as your fingers found their way into his dark hair. “Settle down.” Brant was a calm person for the most part, but god if you didn’t have his mind wheeling around. If nothing else, the feeling of his erection pressed against your ass would. Of course, he had gotten you worked up enough, he was fairly confident in his chances. The smirk on his lips was covered by yours, the harsh kiss met with all teeth and tongue, his hands moving your hips back and forth on his lap. “Oh fuck, Goody..”

One of his hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, gently pulling it up and over your head. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, everything about you just drawing him in. “Shit, honey,” his soft spoken words were accompanied with a light chuckle as he pulled your (his) sweatpants down, letting them fall to the ground. You helped him pull his t-shirt off, heavily kissing him in between. His long fingers moved to your clothed clit, his pinky moving your dampened underwear to the side. The light, breathy moans escaping your lips had him grinning like a dumbass the entire time, brown eyes roaming your body. As you undid his belt buckle and jeans, he found it the perfect time to slip a finger inside of you, the sharp inhale punctuating the curl of his digit. Your head fell on his shoulder, moving your hips against his hand. The pad of his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, a second finger pushing in. It had been a while, admittedly, so the stretch of Goody’s thick fingers had your insides feeling like you would pop. “Goody, please.. I-“ Curling his fingers just right, the man held a steady hand on your hip, gliding you through your climax. “Holy fuck,” you breathed, hips falling from their movements. “Settle down, sweetheart.” Pressing a few kisses to your neck, the man let you pull down his jeans and boxers just enough to let his cock spring free. Precum dribbled from the red tip, your hand coming to softly stroke it. Goody’s head fell back on the couch at the feeling, inhaling deeply. Your hand barely fit around his dick, a fact that had your boyfriends balls tightening. He grabbed your wrist softly, pulling your hand away. “You’re ready?” He asked in confirmation, using one hand to help lift your hips up, the other ready to push his cock in. Your mind was hazy at the feeling, nodding quickly to his question. Looking up at you with a smile, he finally pushed in with a groan. The stretch was intense, the initial pain replaced with a feeling of pleasure.

He had both hands on your hips now, slowly easing you down onto his thick cock, not quite bottoming out. Goody held you there for a second, the gasp you let out making him grin and raise his eyebrows. "You like that, sweetheart?" he asked, out of breath. Lowering you down, he chuckled as your head fell into the crook of his neck. He gave you a short moment to adjust before he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, starting to slowly drag your wet cunt up and down his girth. His eyebrows furrowed together at the feeling of you clenching around him, a few stray hairs sticking to his sweaty forehead. "God, this pussy is unreal.." the words were quiet, soft under his heavy breaths. The sounds of your moans, your cunt repeatedly bouncing on his cock, both of you harshly breathing, all filled the lowly-lit room, soaked up by no one except you two. Goody couldn't get enough, feeling you clenching around him as you neared another orgasm. "Oh shit, goddamnit.." your exclamations were followed by your climax, Goody following not long after. He clenched his eyes shut as he shot ropes of hot, thick cum deep inside of you. Your mouth fell open as you tried to catch your breath, removing one hand from the mans back to cup his bearded jaw for a kiss. "Holy shit, that was.." you were at a loss for words, staring into his dark brown eyes.

"Settle down."

[thefandomthings]

Rules/Who I write for

|Masterlist|

∆•∆•∆

Will write Fluff

Self explanatory

Angst

No rape, no torture, not a lot of gore but I will write it, no suicide

Gender

Mostly female and Gn, but I will write for Male readers

Requests/match ups

Requests and match ups are: CLOSED

Blank blogs will be blocked

Who I write for:

Tmnt (No RoT)

Transformers (bayverse)

Bnha/mha

Demon slayer/Kny

Attack on Titan

Spy x family

Obey me

Kuroko no Basketball (KnB)

Naruto

Saiki K

Jujutsu kaisen

Avatar (Pandora)

Avatar: The last Airbender

Legend of Korra

Destination Fear

Top Gun (Both)

Tombstone (1993)

Real genius (1985)

Disney Characters

Pixar Characters

Universal Characters

LetterKenny

Shoresy

Call of Duty

Bridgerton

Love and Deepspace

Other platforms:

Wattpad: Haedyn_Bale

Quotev: TheNutellaNavy

[pettyprocrastination]

Hey, if I wrote a short and sweet Shoresy x Reader fic, would you want to read it?

I SURE WOULD :D

[jerseyshoresy]

Could I request something where the reader is on the women's hockey team and gets a skate to the face on accident, and Shoresy who stuck around to watch rides with her to the hospital for stitches?

Absolutely you can! And here it is :) it kinda got away from me a little bit toward the end and I added some more elements to the story but I hope you enjoy, thanks so much for sending in the request and also for your patience as I wrote it!!! <3

A Little Slice of Heaven

Angst, Fluff

Shoresy x f!reader

Warnings: cussing, blood, stitches

It was the second period of the Sudbury women’s hockey game and the audience’s hearts were pounding with the excitement of the events unfolding in front of them. This game had been particularly brutal, fists and insults hurling across the ice alongside the puck. You were up by 3 and the barn was teeming with energy from your supporters and opposing team alike. All of your teammates were fired up too, shredding ice underneath their skates in a frenzy to keep the momentum going.

“Let’s go, ladies! Keep sliding ‘em in!” you yelled, posting up in your spot in the face off. The puck dropped and you immediately took possession, skating as fast as you could. You felt sweat dripping down your face as you finally passed the puck, getting knocked into the glass by the other team.

“Don’t stop moving! Take ‘em down, L/n!” you heard a voice yell next to you. It was Shoresy, who had apparently been there to watch the game. Knowing he was a spectator brought a smile to your face. You had always found him to be particularly interesting—a fantastic hockey player with a big mouth and even bigger heart. His passion for the game was unrivaled and it made you proud that he felt your team was worthy enough to watch. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes as well; you’d thought he was super cute since the first time you met him. Over time you became friends, but your crush on him never went away. The thought of him watching you win was enough to motivate you even more to do your best. You growled, pushing the woman from the other team off you and heading back into the action. You were in control of the puck again, ready to make your shot. You yanked back your stick and—

And you were… splayed out on the ice?

And your face was immensely more wet than you remembered?

All of a sudden, you registered the eye watering, stinging pain that was radiating across your skin. You shakily put a hand to your cheek, knowing exactly what happened.

You got a skate to the face.

Blood began to pour onto the ice beneath you as you flipped over from your back to your knees, keeping your head down. You heard whistles from the referees to stop gameplay as the audience began to clamor, desperately trying to see what was going on.

“Fuck,” you whispered, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t a stranger to injuries, but this was way more serious than anything you had dealt with in the past. You tried to lift your head but immediately felt woozy, most likely from the impact your head took when it slammed against the ice. Thankfully you could still see from both of your eyes so those weren’t harmed in the accident. Medics rushed onto the ice, applying pressure to your face with a large towel.

“We gotta get you off the ice. Can you stand?” one of them asked you.

“I…think so,” you said, steadying yourself on the helping hands lended to you by the medics. You were ushered off the ice, your teammates yelling words of encouragement as you left.

“I have to keep playing,” you demanded as you were told to sit on a bench while one of the medics made a call.

“There’s no way that’s happening,” the other medic told you, giving you a concerned look. “You need stitches. A lot of them. That was a nasty fall.”

“Can’t you do it? You’re certified in… all that stuff, right?” you insisted, biting back the pain that erupted every time you spoke.

“I am, but that cut is much too deep. We’re getting an ambulance here right away.”

“A fucking ambulance?” you moaned, your cheek burning in protest at your outburst. “That’s overkill for a little cut.”

“Shut the fuck up, L/n.”

Shoresy appeared in your peripheral vision, looking more distraught than you thought possible for the man.

“You’re really fuckin’ hurt after you took that tumble out there.”

You went to reply with a witty retort but the medic, now off the phone, came running in.

“Ambulance is here. Get your skates off and come with me.”

You began to internally freak out. No one likes going to the hospital and you certainly didn’t love the idea of having to sit through all those stitches by yourself, especially when you’re supposed to be bringing your team to victory.

Before the second medic could move to help you unlace your skates, Shoresy was on it in a flash, his nimble fingers working overtime to get them off your feet. Soon enough you were in your socks and being escorted by a certain Mr. Shore who had taken it upon himself to hold the towel to your face as he walked with you. Without any struggle, he helped lift you into the ambulance. You went to wave goodbye, but before the back of the doors shut, you heard him speak up.

“Can I go with her?”

The EMT glanced at you and shrugged. “If you’re fine with it.”

“Oh my god, yes please.”

In any other situation you would’ve been embarrassed at how fast you answered, but you had no time to waste right now. Besides, Shoresy was looking at you so worriedly, his big brown eyes gazing at you with such concern that it made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and there was no way you could leave that man behind.

He quickly hopped into the ambulance as well and soon enough you were being transported to the hospital.

“How’re you feeling?” Shoresy asked, speaking quieter than usual, his broad shoulder brushing against yours as he sat close to you.

“Truthfully? Pissed that I had to leave the game,” you confessed, making him laugh a bit.

“You’re such a fuckin’ beauty,” he said, smiling and shaking his head, the towel he was pressing against your cheek never relenting in perfect pressure, “but I meant more about the skin falling off your face.”

“Hurts like hell,” you mumbled. “What even happened back there?”

“You got slammed from the side and the other gal fell next to you, but her skate flew up and sliced into you. It was bad timing.”

You nodded. “Understatement of the year. Did I at least score?”

“Of course you did.”

“Good, that’s all I care about. We can’t lose.”

“You won’t. You’ve got a great team, even if you’re not there to push them.”

You nudged him in the arm playfully. “You’re too sweet to me, Shoresy, you’re giving me cavities.”

“I’ll always be there for ya, y/n.”

The ambulance finally came to a stop and you were ushered onto a rolling bed at the hospital, Shoresy of course helping you.

“They’ll get you taken care of in no time,” the EMT told you, standing behind the bed and getting ready to move it. “Your husband can be in the room with you when you get your stitches if you want, too.”

Shoresy’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m not-”

“Sounds great. Thanks,” you replied, giving Shoresy a look. He didn’t question it further as your bed was pushed into the halls of the emergency department, finally coming to a stop in a room.

“A doctor will be here any second. Can’t wait to see you back on the ice!”

The EMT left, leaving you and Shoresy alone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that they usually only allow family and partners back here, not friends. I really didn’t want to be alone for this,” you admitted.

“It’s all good, Mrs. Shore, doesn’t bother me in the least bit,” he replied, wearing a mischievous smile.

“You’re the worst.”

“And to think I was gonna take ya to Cancun for our honeymoon.”

Inside your mind, you sighed wistfully. What you wouldn’t give to have that goofball of a man by your side for life.

“Alright, Ms. L/n,” the doctor said, pulling back the curtain and putting gloves on, “we’ll get you stitched up and out of here soon.”

You felt a major bout of stress come on when you saw the preparation begin for your sutures, your nerves getting the best of you. Your hands became clammy when you were leaned back and it was getting hard to breathe when the towel was taken off the side of your face. As the doctor loomed over you, needle in hand, you were ready to run far, far away from that place and risk bleeding to death rather than go through with the stitches. You were immediately grounded by a firm, warm hand grasping your own—Shoresy’s, naturally. He really wasn’t lying when he said he’d be there for you, no matter what. A gentle squeeze of your hand was enough to let you know that he was doing his best to comfort you and your heart was doing leaps in your chest at the gesture.

A half hour later and you were done, sent on your way to rest and recover. You didn’t want to miss the end of the hockey game, though, so Shoresy got you guys a ride share back to the rink.

“Wow, 24 stitches and a fake husband in one night! I’m the luckiest woman in Sudbury,” you joked, exiting the car by way of the door being held open for you by Shoresy.

“Thanks for supporting me through all that. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you admitted.

Shoresy’s eyes sparkled as they caught the lights of the barn in his irises. “I’m glad you’re okay. I have to be good to my fake wife, you know.”

You wore a hopeful smile; if today taught you anything, it was that you were beyond ready to shoot your shot. “Maybe we could go with real girlfriend next?”

That definitely caught him off guard. He curiously examined your expression for any sign of joking, but it was evident you weren’t messing around.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

“Yeah. I am.”

Shoresy grinned. “I like the sound of that, real future Mrs. Shore.”

[raezrrwrites]

ʚ ✧ .I Want You. ✧ ʚ

Shoresy x reader

Hurt/Comfort oneshot

Sum: Shoresy opens up to Y/N after they come clean about their feelings for him one late night.

Gender neutral Y/n



(Loosely proofread- I’m sorry for any mistakes)

-1k+ words

Warning: light make out. emotion? Tears? Anything a serious talk entails :p

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

Pumped 5 goose for the 20th loss of the campaign

He was going to be here. You just knew it. The air in your simple, yet cozy Sudbury apartment went still with a signature rapping on the door, breaking through whatever mindless noise was on the T.V. A specific pattern of tap-tap-ta-ta-tap confirmed your sparse and fading wonders. You knew he was gonna turn up on your doorstep. You were a relaxer for him. Did you get anything long-term or comforting out of it besides his shockingly tender touches that quickly dissolved and faded into your skin after he was gone?

No, but you hoped one of these nights, something, anything, would change…

The willed knocks reverberated into your ears, setting off a sort of instinctual string of movement within you. Your breath hitched and quickened sporadically as you neared the door. You subconsciously pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, fiddling with the hem, knowing who and what kind of bewitching spell you were about to fall under. He pulled at your heart and your mind-

No, don’t. You’ll just pity yourself. This is nothing serious.

A familiar and quirked voice slipped past the door and wrapped around your conflicting ideas of this man. He was arrogant and selfish, and yet you couldn’t get him out of your head.

“Y/N, are you ever going to open this door, or are you just going to let me freeze? Your building is so fuckin’ cold” His words drawled on with a brief chuckle and a quick sigh before ending. He was looking to the side when you opened the door, seemingly adjusting his posture in a fruitless attempt to break through the awkward atmosphere of his waiting.

Your eyes drifted to his. His breath seemed to fizzle out into a sigh “Fucking finally, I am so close to crying and on top of that the air in this fucking building has damn near turned me into a drum-stick.” He said while stepping into your building, swiftly shedding his coat and shoes by your door, leaving him in nothing but a hoodie, sweats, and a snap-back. You made a slow return to sit in your once warm spot on the couch, the plush material perfectly molded to your body.

The couch dipped beside you, evidence of Shoresys’ body next to yours. You had just let your eyes drift lifelessly to the screen mounted on the wall when an arm snaked around your shoulders; his body laying lax next to yours. “Shoresy can we not? Please?” You twisted towards him in time to watch his brows furrow, and his mouth go ajar, showing his missing tooth before he let out a simple, bland… “what?”

“Are you kidding me?” You retorted, “I probably see you more than anybody, other than the team. Besides Sanguinet, I am the one person you keep crawling back to when your life falls apart, or when you get frustrated, or when you're just bored, not to mention Laura Mohr,” Tears welled up in your eyes and a suffocating lump began to form in your throat. “You repeatedly hurt me and I still open up and let you in every time, but yet I get zero compassion from you, Shoresy.” Hot tears rolled down your face while your throat burned from choking out the last part of your statement.

While tilting your head up in an attempt to stop the relentless stream of tears pouring down your cheeks and neck, a warm body melded next to yours. Large, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. One of his hands crawled up your back and tugged your head down and into his chest; The bulldog decal on his gray sweatshirt rubbed against your arms as you pulled your body up against his, head resting against his broad shoulder just in the crook of his neck, arms migrating to hold his neck.

Swaying gently from side to side, his hand reached up to where your head rested on his shoulder and stroked the top of your cheekbone with his thumb; You felt his head pressing gently down and to the side against yours, you could feel his stubbled jaw resting on your forehead; while his tear-stained hand held the back of your neck, just beneath your jaw, pulling you close to him.

You suddenly noticed the growing wet spot growing on the back of your shoulder.

The faltering skip of his breath became all too obvious. The shaking in his chest was impossible to conceal while being pulled so close to him. You lifted your head off of his shoulder and released your arms from around his neck. Placing one hand on his bicep, and cupping his jaw in the other; pulling his face up. His puffy blue eyes and wet cheeks broke you. A sympathetic void grew within you and drowned you in its sorrow.

A slew of words came crashing into your mind at a dizzying pace.

He wasn't arrogant and selfish; he was uncertain and compassionate; he was tender and understanding; god, he was surprisingly soft and overwhelmingly intuitive. The man in front of you was amazingly sweet and loving. He had changed. Or maybe your idea of him had been wrong all along.

You needed him, an astonishing amount.

The everlasting couple of minutes the two of you shared, eyes interlocked, contact unfaltering, ended with a clairvoyant mutual connection. Your lips met his, as your arms reinstated their position around his neck; taking off his hat and tangling your fingers in his hair. You felt Shoresys’ hands inch around your waist and pull you into his lap, your knees pushing into the couch straddling side of his hips. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before your enthralling kiss ended in a correlative heave for air.

“Y/N, I don’t want Laura Morh,” Your heart stumbled over a few beats at his words. Looking down and examining his face, searching for any trace of insincerity. “Y/N, I want you, I want all of you, forever, every day.” You let out a giggle. “Did you just quote the notebook?” He shrugged and cockily and glanced to the side before remitting eye contact. “Maybe, what are you gonna do about it?” His snide remarks were falteringly annoying. The only words you could construct in your hazy state was a half-hearted, “Shut up” before reconnecting your lips with his.

[miraclesabound]

When It All Goes to Hell

Summary: Shoresy manages to really fuck things up between himself and Reader, and while Laura is willing to help patch things up, things get ugly first. Sequel to "That Hits The Spot".

Pairing(s): Shoresy/Laura Mohr, one-sided (?) Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, eventual Laura/Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, background Sanguinet/Mercedes

Notes: I know this makes her a little more like an OC, but I'm now expressly writing Reader as a plus size woman, and Shoresy has given her a nickname related to her job as a publicist for the Bulldogs. She can still be read as any race. Set after Season 1. Any italicized dialogue is meant to be in French. Also on AO3.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, romantic frustration, canon-typical language, past fat-phobia on Shoresy's part, Reader using Shoresy's first name, misogynistic and fatphobic language, sexual harassment, aggravated assault, mention of police, description of injuries, hopeful ending (Friends to Enemies to Possible Lovers)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination, @captainsbestgal, @magpie-to-the-morning, @deadbranch, @brewed-pangolin, @ironmandeficiency

When Shoresy calls you over to play foosball with him and Sanguinet and Mercedes, you figure it’ll be guys vs. gals like it’s been most of the evening at the lanes.  Generally, it’s been you, Nat, the twins and Mercedes on one side, and Shoresy, Sanger, Hitch, Dolo and Goody on the other.  However, he surprises you by nodding to his side of the table. When you ask, he says, “Trust me, Pubsy, small game like this – makin’ Sanger play against his sweetie would just be mean.”

Honestly, you don’t mind the nickname. You like your job as a publicist for the Bulldogs, and at least he didn’t choose Pubby. That sounds too much like “Tubby”, and you hope that your weight isn’t the only thing Shoresy sees about you. In the last few weeks since he helped fix up your back, you’ve found yourself getting more and more sweet on him.

You join Shoresy on the red team, while Sanger and Mercedes take blue. “Rules are simple,” Shoresy says. “Gals on goals, guys in the middle, reset the ball if no one can reach it, we’ll play best two of three, losers buy the next drinks.”

You’re decent at bowling and billiards, but it turns out that foosball is much more your speed. With your goaltending and Shoresy on the attack, you absolutely annihilate the other couple. A third game isn’t needed, and you even join Shoresy in a bit of trash talk before Sanger goes to get your victory shots.

You and Shoresy stay a team for the rest of the night, and his arm keeps ending up around your shoulders. The others aren’t blind to the two of you getting cozy. Hitch and Dolo make particular note of it, and their conversation makes Nat’s ears tingle, even over the noise of the bowling lanes.

“You think he’s wheeling the publicist?” Dolo asks.

“Dunno, me son,” Hitch responds. “But ‘s true that where she’s to, that’s where ‘e’s at.” He smiles. “They do make a right pretty pair – would knit a fine coupla’ little ones.”

Nat’s managerial instincts are screaming at her. When no one’s looking, she pulls out her phone and sets herself a reminder – she needs to talk to you within the week about this Shoresy situation.

--

“Am I in trouble?” you ask. Coming into Nat’s office during the day is rare – she usually leaves you to your own devices in your room down the hall.

“Not at all,” Nat promises. “But I need you to be straight with me about something – are you and Shoresy a thing?”

“Um…” you shrug. “We’re not officially giving it the old college try, but we’re not not a thing…I think?” You wish you could give a clearer assessment. You and Shoresy have spent time together every day this week, and he’s been physically affectionate, but he hasn’t tried to kiss you either.

“Fuck…” Nat mutters. You look at her funny, and she speaks more clearly. “Listen, you’re a grown woman, I can’t tell you who to spend time with, but there’s some shit I think you need to see.” She pulls out her laptop and opens it to a video link. “Did you watch the National Seniors Championship back in ’19?”

“Didn’t get the chance.” You come around to her side of the desk and crouch to see the video. You squint when she hits play – “Is that Shoresy and JJ?”

“Yup – and it wasn’t pretty how they met.”

Your eyes grow wider and wider as the video goes on. It’s not just Shoresy hitting JJ’s leg that gets to you, though that’s one of the uglier hits you’ve ever seen. What’s viscerally upsetting is what Shoresy is saying to JJ through the whole thing. You’ve heard some vicious anti-fat talk in your time, both directed at you and in general. However, the pure vitriol coming out of Shoresy’s mouth is enough to make you nauseous.

The video finishes, and Nat turns to you. “You see why I’m worried?” she asks. You nod your understanding. “Plus, he’s getting Laura Mohr to warm up to him. He’s cleaned up his act, but he’s still a loudmouth, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, no, I get it,” you say. “I appreciate the lookout.” You really do, even if you feel your heart deflating.

--

Nat’s words echo in your head for the next few weeks, especially after Laura finally accepts Shoresy’s request for a date. You hold out hope that it’ll just be a one-off, but when she starts attending practices and coming along to group outings, you know she’s Shoresy’s sweetie for real.

You don’t hate her – far from it. In fact, as she integrates into the group, you understand why Shoresy is into her. She’s more his type, especially with the age gap, and she’s just good fun to be around. This woman knows every joke you can think of and then some, she’s got good taste in movies, and when you see her around her kid, you recognize that she’s a wonderful mother. You’re even comfortable with her calling you P in front of the gang.

No, it’s not Laura who ruins things between you and Shoresy – it’s Shoresy himself. You understand him pulling away from time together; you’d be doing the same thing if you’d met someone. That part makes perfect sense, even if it stings. That said, when you see him, he’s still kind to you – or so you think.

However, one evening changes all that. You’re finishing up paperwork in your office, and you hear the guys on the team chatting down the hallway. You’re not above gossip, so you put your work down, trying to focus on what they’re saying.

“Think we’ll ever ask JJ back?” you hear Hitch ask. “The man could do his work, b’ys.” You’ve been wondering the same thing yourself – you know he ran back to Quebec after some woman trouble, but you never knew the particulars.

You hear Shoresy’s voice chirp back, “Not if I can fuckin’ help it – Frankie’s a fuckin’ coward who doesn’t know how to treat women. Fuckin’ walrus pulled Laurence LeBouef and didn’t worship at her fuckin’ feet? Fuckin’ fat loser…”

You tiptoe to the office door, close it as quietly as possible – and then go back to your desk and sob. Nat comes by to check on you about ten minutes later, and you tell her everything.

--

You’re not going to have Shoresy booted from the team; you’re not that vindictive - but you do cool considerably around him. You’re still cordial to the others and to Laura, but to him? You are winter incarnate. One time, he tries to tease you about something innocuous, and your response shocks him.

“Knock it off, Fenton, you’re too old for this.” NO-ONE, not even his dad, uses his first name. He doesn’t know how he stepped in it, but he has to make it up to you.

It’s Laura who texts you some time later, asking if the three of you can meet up at Doghouse. You haven’t been answering Shoresy’s texts or calls, and you know that he’s using Laura as a workaround, but if she’s going to be there with him, maybe this won’t be so bad.

On the night in question, you get there early, and you find a seat at the bar. You’re looking at your phone when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, is this stool taken?” The voice belongs to a decently attractive man with dark well-groomed facial hair and a stylish haircut.

“All yours – my friends’ll use these other ones when they get here.”

You think that’s the end of it, but instead of taking the stool elsewhere like you expect, the man sits down next to you. “Buy you a drink while you wait? I’m Rolland, but everyone calls me RJ.” You can’t remember the last time a guy took the initiative so quickly to chat with you. You ask for a whiskey and Coke, and RJ gets a tall pint of some beer you don’t know the name of.

The conversation flows easily at first – but then you find yourself ill at ease. You don’t know if it’s RJ’s mannerisms, or if he’s looking too intensely at you – but something here isn’t right. It doesn’t help that he finishes his pint rapidly and is already on a refill while you’re only halfway through your cocktail. When he asks if you want to leave with him after only about fifteen minutes of chatting, you’re only too happy to tell him no.

“Told you, I’m meeting my friends.” Your phone buzzes, and you see a message from Laura. “In fact, they’re parking now.”

RJ has been smiling, but now that smile turns into a snarl. “You got some fuckin’ nerve leading me on, you fat bitch!” Before you can chew him out, something crashes into your face and shatters against it. You lose your balance and hit the floor hard.

As you try to sit up, RJ is staring down at you with a twisted grin. “Not so high and mighty now, are ya?” He reaches out like he’s going to grab your hair, but in a blur, he’s shoved back against the bar, and Shoresy is there, his eyes burning like the wrath of God.

You’re so disoriented by the last twenty seconds that you think you must be seeing things – when did he get here? That said, Shoresy’s voice is unmistakable. “YOU DON’T HIT WOMEN, YOU FUCKIN’ ANIMAL!” He bellows, and he lands at least two punches on RJ, both to the face.

Someone touches your arm and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Hey, P, hun, it’s just me…” You turn, and Laura’s right next to you. “Can you stand?”

You nod, and she helps you up. Two bouncers are pulling Shoresy off RJ, and when you hear a siren, you realize someone must have already called paramedics, cops, or both.

--

The paramedics confirm that you avoided a concussion, but RJ isn’t so lucky. The small cuts on your face are also nothing compared to his black eye and broken nose. The cops even try to hold Shoresy briefly for assault. They don’t let him go until they get the video from the manager showing what happened. By the time it’s all figured, it’s past midnight, and you just want to go home. Laura’s been helping you stay calm, but when Shoresy finally comes over to check on you, you lose your shit.

“Fuck you, Shoresy!”

“Fer what?!”

“Fer bein’ a fuckin’ hypocrite!” you tell him. “I know how you feel about fat people; I heard you shit-talking JJ when he’s not even here to defend himself – and then you go and nearly goddamn kill someone because I’m insulted??”

“But Pubsy, it was more than –”

“I’m not fuckin’ finished! You do this in front of your sweetie too? Like I’m…fuckin’…like I’m yours to save? And now I’m gonna hafta explain this whole goddamn thing to Nat and try to keep it out of the news and….and…oh fuck me…”

You can feel tears stinging the edges of your eyes as the last of the adrenaline leaves your system. Laura lets you lean on her, and she tells Shoresy, “Babe, I think it’s gotta be just us girls for a minute – see you tomorrow?” Shoresy pouts, but he accepts a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and he scoots out.

You and Laura sit down on a nearby bench, and she pulls a tissue out of her coat for you. While you dab your eyes, she says, “I’m not gonna tell you not to be mad at Shoresy, but did you actually see what it was that RJ hit you with?”

You shake your head. “Nope – just that it crashed on my face and I hit the deck.”

“It was his pint glass – and I saw that one of the shattered pieces looked like a dagger. I don’t read minds, but I know I feared the worst – and I bet Shoresy did too.”

A cold feeling runs down your spine as you remember the violent glint in RJ’s eyes. “You…you think he might have…?” You make the throat-cutting gesture.

“I dunno,” Laura admits. “But I know Shoresy doesn’t want to take any chances when it comes to you – he likes you a lot.”

You want to be happy about that comment, but everything just feels like shit right now. “I’m sorry,” you groan. “I swear I haven’t been trying to steal him – fuck’s sake, I’ve been actively pushing him away!”

“I know,” Laura says. “But…if he were to get himself figured out, would you … be willing to share?”

Your mental gears grind to a halt so fast that you’re surprised steam hasn’t come out of your ears. “….WHAT.”

“That’s what we wanted to talk about with you tonight before everything went pear-shaped.”

The idea Laura’s presenting is something you just cannot process right now. Your confusion must read on your face, because she offers you a hand to stand up and says, “Let me get you home so you can sleep – we’ll catch back up on this in the morning.”

[wwefangirl69]

Omg Spotify is tryna KILL ME. Heard "True Love" by Tobias Jesso Jr. Not once but twice!! I am destroyed. I'm crying in the parking lot at work! I am literally gutted. Beautiful song, and all I see is Shoresy and Laura Mohr. God if they don't get together as a couple in S3, I'm pulling an Elvis and shooting my damn TV!!!

[onebourbon-oneshot-onetear]

Masterlist

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Forever- Oneshot

Druig- Eternals

My Home 

My Home Part 2

Letterkenny/Shoresy

Wayne

Meeting Wayne

5 Times Wayne Fell in Love with You

Happier- Wayne and y/n oneshot

Shoresy

Dating Shoresy Headcannons

Animated Justice League

Bruce Wayne x Oc

Aquatica-Chapter 1 Evie

Aquatica-Chapter 2 Secret Origins

Aquatica- Chapter 3 In the Blackest Night

Aquatica- Chapter 4 The Enemy Below

Aquatica- Chapter 5 Paradise Lost

Aquatica- Chapter 6 Evie’s Day Off

Aquatica- Chapter 7 The Brave and the Bold

Aquatica- Chapter 8 Fury

Aquatica- Chapter 9  Christmas Eve

Aquatica - Chapter 10 Injustice for All

[jerseyshoresy]

How About a Glass of Punch!

Shoresy and reader go on their first date—or do they?

Shoresy x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of physical fighting and bruising/bleeding

You were pissed. You just had to get punched in the face today? Today of all days?

On the day of your first date with Shoresy?

That reminded you never to go to bars in the daytime. Normally you abided by that rule, but you were nervous and you were stressed and sitting around at home by yourself was doing nothing to calm your nerves so of course you would go hang out with your friend in downtown Sudbury for a few hours.

“You don’t think we’re making a mistake going on this date, right Miig?” you asked the girl sitting in the barstool next to you.

“Y/n! Not at all. You’ve liked Shoresy for a long time and he’s liked you for the same amount, if not longer. Besides, friends that date usually stay together longer. It’s science.”

You shot her a look. “That’s science? I must’ve slept through that part of class.” Miigwan rolled her eyes and playful pushed your shoulder.

“You’re freaking out for no reason. It’s Shoresy we’re talking about. He’s definitely not hot enough to be stressing you like this. Besides, he’s just a slut. It’s not like he’s gonna be husband material anyway.”

“Oh Miig, if only I was as wise as you,” you started sarcastically, “dating a coach is so much better than a player. Tell Sanguinet to call me, maybe we can go to Wasaga Beach.”

“Fuck you y/n,” she said, both of you laughing. Once you two finished up your drinks, you were ready to go back home and get ready for your date. Miigwan really helped you calm down and you were now actually excited to see Shoresy tonight. As you reached for the door handle to leave the bar, someone grabbed your arm.

“You’re brave for showing your face around here.”

You turned around. Bad idea. Before you could say anything, a fist collided with your face and you were down. As you scrambled to get up, you felt the same person grab the front of your shirt. Getting a good look at them, you had no idea who this dude was, but you knew he was super drunk and you had to get out of there before you got hit again. You brought your knee up into his groin area and struck the bottom of your palm into his nose. Thankfully he released your shirt and, cradling your face, you ran to your car as fast as you could, jamming the key into the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot. Your apartment was only 5 minutes away and once you got inside your door, locking it as fast as humanly possible, you finally allowed yourself to feel the pain caused by the blow. You got hit on your high right cheekbone next to your eye. You were so afraid to look in the mirror because you really didn’t want to deal with a bruise right now. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for the worst. What you saw upset you greatly—you were sporting a very aggressive black eye and bruised cheek. It was a sickly purple and blue nightmare swirled around your face and you held in sob. You didn’t get into fights, that wasn’t your scene. You didn’t even know who that person was that attacked you! You were just glad Miigwan had left a minute prior and missed it because if she had gotten hit… you thought of the swift revenge that would come from Ziigwan and you shuddered. Turning your attention back to the problem at hand, you began to brainstorm how to cover the ugly, throbbing mark before your date. You tried to apply concealer but every dab on the bruise made you shed many tears. Softly crying at the events of the day, you decided you had to cancel the date.

“I’m so sorry Shoresy,” you whispered, hitting send on the text and throwing your phone down. You knew Shoresy was no stranger to fights and bad injuries, but you were nervous. Taking a step from friendship into dating territory was scary and it would be even scarier if you showed up looking like your face got hit by a bus. You wanted this day to be perfect and it was the biggest mess you had ever gotten yourself into. You put your pajamas on and grabbed an ice pack, settling in for the afternoon. When you looked at your phone again, you had 3 unread texts and 7 unanswered calls from Miigwan and 5 unread texts and 4 unanswered calls from Shoresy.

Miigwan: was that you I saw in the parking lot???

Miigwan: y/n answer me, did you stumble out the door of the bar??

Miigwan: if you’re not okay I’m coming over.

And then Shoresy:

Shoresy: totally fine y/n, we can always plan for another day :) hope you feel better soon!

(You told him you were sick)

Shoresy: okay I got a call from Miig and I’m not thinking you’re sick.

Shoresy: did you run out of the bar and then drive home??

Shoresy: y/n please answer

Shoresy: I’m coming over.

You were freaking out internally. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You frantically texted them back, assuring them you were okay and it was all one big misunderstanding, but it didn’t matter; the moment you hit send on your message, you heard a knock at the door.

“Y/n? It’s me. Shoresy. Your friend. Your, uh, date for tonight? Whatever, you know who it is. We’re worried about you.”

We?

“Y/n, open this door or I’ll knock it off its hinges with Shoresy’s thick head.”

Of course Miigwan’s here too.

Even though you were scared to reveal to them what really happened, you were glad your friends showed up for you. You opened the door to find Miigwan and Shoresy quietly bickering, most likely over her earlier comment about his head. When they caught sight your injury, they immediately fell silent.

“Oh my god,” exclaimed Miigwan, while Shoresy went for the more explosive “What the actual fuck happened to your face?” You almost started crying again but you were determined to stay strong. Inviting them inside, you threw yourself down on the couch, Shoresy sitting next to you and Miig in the chair across from you.

“So, after you left, Miig, I went to leave too and some dude mistook me for someone else and now here we are.”

You had never seen Shoresy so angry in his life.

“Are you fucking serious? A random dude just starting swinging on ya? What’s he look like, I’ll take him down in no time and have him crying on your doorstep and begging for forgiveness like you’re the fuckin’ Godfather. Jesus Christ.”

“No, Shoresy, it’s okay. He was hella drunk and to be honest, I’m really shaken up still so could we please drop it for now? I made it home safe and that’s all I can ask for.”

“Okay. Well, as long as you’re good, I think Shoresy is gonna stay and I’ll head back home. I’m glad you’re alright but I can’t wait to see Shore put that guy’s head on a stick. Feel better and call if you need anything.” Miig gave you a hug and left.

“I’m sorry I canceled our date. I really wanted to go, I just… didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

Shoresy, who just brought you a fresh ice pack from the freezer, sat close to you while holding the pack to your face. You didn’t know if you were shivering from the cold or the fact that an attractive man was that close to you.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t show a shiner like this to the world? People would be missing out on seeing a true masterpiece. This sucker’s the real deal right here. Hockey players would kill for a badge of honor like this.”

You giggled a bit.

“Oh stop, you’re flattering me.”

“No, flattering you would be telling you I’ve never seen a more beautiful person than the one sitting in front of me right now, in their pajamas, allowing me to take care of them in their time of need.”

You felt your whole face flush.

“Okay, that’s very flattering. I’m not as good with words as you are but I noticed you’re not wearing your fake tooth and you look supremely handsome without it.”

Now it was Shoresy’s turn to blush.

“You really think so? I was in such a hurry to get over here when Miig told me what happened that I forgot to put it in.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t. You look great as is.”

“We’re just a real pair, aren’t we? Busted faces, missing teeth. We’d be that power couple to watch out for if we hit the town right now.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, right. Hey, thanks again for your concern and coming over, I really appreciate you. Also, thanks for doing this.” You gestured to the ice pack he was still holding to your face.

“Anytime, y/n. I wish I was there to protect you. I would do anything for you, as long as you’d let me.” Shoresy let his finger give the slightest touch over an uncovered part of your injured cheekbone. His lips were dangerously close to yours, and you desperately wanted to lean in.

“Anything?” you practically whispered.

He nodded his head silently.

“Then kiss me,” you said, and without hesitation, Shoresy pulled you in with a gentle but steady grip. When your lips met, you felt a jolt of energy spread through you like a firecracker. You’ve never been kissed like that before, with such passion and fervor, yet appreciated restraint, and you hoped you’d never have to find someone else to compare him to. When you two eventually pulled apart, you both had giddy smiles.

“Wow. What a way to start a first date, huh?” you asked, trying to catch your breath.

“That’s just the preview for the rest of the evening,” replied Shoresy, wearing a cheeky look, and you couldn’t wait to see what he meant by that. On the couch, as you snuggled into his side, you were beyond grateful for such a loyal and caring friend-turned-boyfriend.

BONUS:

A few days after a successful first date, you hear a few knocks at your door. Answering it, you were shocked to see Shoresy, arms folded, standing next to a man on his knees, nose cracked and bleeding freely, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Y/n, is-is it? I’m s-so extremely sorry for punching you the other day. I am a complete and total idiot. I promise to never get that drunk again and never throw punches. I’m sorry for having to sit on your doorstep like the trash I am. Please, have these flowers as a sign of my sorry.” He thrusted them toward you, trying hard to not meet your gaze. Shoresy then spoke up.

“Alright. You’re free to go. If I hear you’re making trouble again, you won’t be able to walk up these flights of stairs when I’m done with ya. Got it?”

The man whimpered and scurried away while Shoresy beamed at you.

“Told ya I’d get ‘em.”

[jerseyshoresy]

How're you now?

Can I request something for either shoresy or wayne where the reader goes home for Christmas? Since they came from either New Zealand or Australia and they miss the summer Christmasses. And one year they invite either shoresy and wayne to hang out with their family and go to the beach and stuff? Friends to lovers perhaps?

Thank you kindly!

Good and you? Hopefully not so bad! (lol)

What a fun request, thanks so much for sending this in! I had a great time thinking of a plot for this since it was a super creative ask☺️ I decided to do two shorter stories, one with Shoresy in New Zealand and one with Wayne in Australia!! Please enjoy <3

Summertime Santa Season with Your Sweetie

Fluff

Shoresy x gn!reader, Wayne x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing

SHORESY:

"So, what do you think? You wanna come with?"

You were giving your friend Shoresy a hopeful look. You had just invited him to spend Christmas with you and your family in the Southern Hemisphere.

"Really? You want me to be there?" he asked, a tone of excitement coating his words.

You laughed. "You're my best friend, Shore, of course I want you there. Besides, I think my family likes you better than me anyway."

"We're even because my family feels the same about you."

"It's settled then?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Well, since your parents already bought my plane ticket months ago, I'd say I'm ready to go."

"What? Are you serious?"

Shoresy gave you a wide, missing tooth grin. "No, I'm just messing with you. The look of betrayal on your face was one for the books."

Your eyes narrowed. "I'm about to rescind my invite."

Considering you were now lounging on the beach with a certain loud mouth hockey player, you weren't actually serious about uninviting him. You sighed, taking in a breath, the smell of the ocean lingering in your nose. It had been a long time since you celebrated Christmas in your home country and while you loved living in Canada, nothing could beat the feeling of sun on your skin as it brought back all the fond memories of your childhood in New Zealand. Now that you were back, you were extremely happy. Having Shoresy there to celebrate with you and your family was a plus, too. You guys had been friends for many years and your relationship ran deeply, you two able to talk about everything with each other without fear or hesitation. While others found themselves exasperated by Shoresy, you never felt anything other than comfort and ease around the man. Even now, as his blocky figure stood over you, casting a shadow on your body, you couldn't find it within you to be annoyed.

"The picnic is all set up. You want something to eat?"

As if it heard him, your stomach growled. Shoresy reached out his hand to help you out of the sand and you gladly took it. Even though this was no sort of new gesture from your friend, you felt your heart do a flip at the contact of his skin on yours. Your eyes widened as you quickly pulled your hand away and made a beeline for your family, trying to calm your heart rate.

"Hey! Y/n! You feeling alright?" Shoresy caught up to you, sand getting kicked up from his fast moving feet. "You look like you saw a ghost or, like, the fuckin' Phantom of the Sydney Opera."

"Huh? That's in Australia, dumbass. But yeah, no, I'm fine, thanks. Just hungry, is all."

You didn't feel fine. Maybe you had heatstroke? You hadn't been in the sun that long... It didn't matter. You shook your head, eagerly grabbing a cup of water and relishing in the shade of the large umbrella overhead. Shoresy didn't look convinced but relaxed when he saw you sit down next to your family and begin to eat. He took the seat across from you, easily falling into conversation with a few of your cousins. However, he couldn't help but send a few glances your way every once in awhile, silently checking in on you. You were grateful for his attentiveness as you nodded, signaling you were good. As you took another bite of your meal, your mind was occupied with listening to all the other conversations happening around you, thankful for a distraction from the confusing feelings you experienced just a few minutes ago.

When lunch was finished, someone in your family suggested you guys play beach volleyball and you were ecstatic. You and Shoresy were on a team together and, to no one's surprise, you were completely in sync. Whenever the ball made it over the net, one of you would call it while the other set up the next shot for someone else to send it back over. Though you were good players, your family on the opposing team did really well, too. The game was heating up and the scores were tied by the end. With only one more point, you and Shoresy were ready to give it your all. The other team served as your cousin set up the first hit. Shoresy set the ball, hoping it was enough to have you spike it over the net. You kept your eyes trained on the ball and before it fell, you slammed your palm on it and sent it sailing over the net and into the sand. Your team won! You all erupted into cheers at your victory. All of a sudden, you felt your feet dangle in the air as Shoresy picked you up, swinging you around excitedly. You couldn't hold in your joyous laughter as you two shared your happiness at not losing, even though the result of the game had no impact on your lives whatsoever. When he finally put you back down on the sand, you two were still giggling and you noticed he still hadn't taken his hands off your waist. You felt yourself getting lost in his blue eyes as it seemed like the world around you dissolved, leaving you and Shoresy alone in your own universe. You were brought back to real life by a clap on your back from your sibling, giving you a hearty congratulations on your win. Shoresy immediately removed his grip on you, leaving you with a lingering feeling of emptiness now that he wasn't touching you.

After a few more days of fun in the sun and other Christmas festivities with your family, you and Shoresy decided to go for a walk by yourselves to get away from the hustle and bustle for a little bit. It was nearing dark and the stars started peeking from the sky. The way they twinkled reminded you of your Christmas tree in Canada and you smiled at the fact that this year, you had the best of both worlds.

“I’ve had a great week so far,” Shoresy said, breaking the silence. “I knew your family was awesome but this has been a hell of a good time.”

“Thank you for coming all this way with me. I appreciate it more than you know.”

You looked over at him, noticing he stopped under a Pōhutukawa tree. In that moment, in the comforting warmth of the night, under the bright red flowers, you swore that no one had ever looked so beautiful.

"I have something to tell you," you both uttered in unison.

"You first," you blurted out, making sure he was the first one to speak while you gathered your courage to confess that you were falling in love with your best friend.

"Okay. So. Okay." He took in a breath after nervously fiddling with his backwards hat. "Y/n, I've had a great time with you here in New Zealand and being your friend all these years has been such a wild ride that I'm thankful for every day. But lately, especially while I've been here, I've realized something. I would do anything to wake up by your side every morning and make you breakfast. I would jump out of a moving car for the chance to take out the trash for you. I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me so please, I need to know if you feel the same."

The only thing you did was let out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily confusing the man who just released an emotionally charged confession of his love.

"Kiss me, Shoresy."

He didn't hesitate, cupping his hands on your cheeks and capturing his lips in your own. As you stood under the glow of the stars while kissing your best friend, you couldn't believe how lucky you were this Christmas; Shoresy was the best gift you could've asked for.

WAYNE:

"A Christmas outside of Canada? That's an odd fuckin' request."

You felt your lips pull into a frown. You had just told your friend Wayne that you were headed to see your family in Australia for Christmas and wanted him to come with. You knew he was traditional, but you didn't think he'd be so quick to shut you down.

"Never mind, it was a silly question anyway." You stood up to leave his house, but he caught your attention before you went anywhere.

"Hey now," Wayne said, "I never said I wouldn't go."

"Is that a yes, then?" you asked, excitement overcoming you.

"As long as Katy's okay with taking care of things while I'm gone, then I'll be seeing you in the Southern Hemisphere."

Katy was more than happy to watch over the farm, which is how you and Wayne were now watching a Christmas parade in Australia with the rest of your family.

"There's such thing as showing too much leg and a fella oughta be fuckin' aware of it," grumbled Wayne as he averted his gaze from a Santa in front of him, dressed in a tank top and short shorts that, admittedly, weren't leaving a lot to the imagination.

"Can you blame the guy? It is pretty hot out today. Maybe I can get you in an outfit like that," you teased, Wayne just looking at you with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. You knew him long enough, though, to know he was having a great time experiencing a new way to celebrate. As you turned your attention back to the parade, you caught a glance of something you knew Wayne couldn't miss.

"Wayne," you said, your voice low, "you need to prepare yourself for this next float."

He raised his eyebrows at you, wondering what could signal this interest. You knew he spotted it when his mouth opened and let out a loud noise that was a healthy mix of "aww" and "oh"-- the float from the local animal shelter had arrived!

"Is Wayne alright?" your parents asked you, concern apparent on their faces.

"He just really loves dogs," you explained and they nodded in understanding. The dogs, ranging from puppies to seniors, were dressed in their holiday best and it looked like Wayne was a second away from crying (not surprising). What was surprising was the way Wayne unfolded his arms and scooted a little bit closer to you, his hand brushing against yours. In all your years of knowing him, he was never a fan of physical touch. Did he do that on accident? And why did a simple ghost of his fingers on yours feel like a strike of lightning between the two of you? You refocused your mind on the parade, not wanting to think about the possibility of having a crush on your dearest friend.

When it was finally Christmas day, your whole family busied themselves preparing for the large gathering that was happening later that afternoon. You and Wayne, along with a few of the younger members of the family, patiently waited to be told where to help.

"Y/n and Wayne, you're on dish duty."

"Sounds like a plan," you told your mom.

"Well, pitter patter, kangaroos scatter," Wayne remarked, rolling up his sleeves and working right away on washing the dishes in the sink from breakfast.

"No way you actually just said that," you groaned, jokingly hitting your palm to your forehead and turning away to shelve a dried dish. You didn't see it, but Wayne was looking at you with a twinkle in his eye and the slightest upturn of his lips. When you turned back around, he slyly averted his gaze so you couldn't see the lovesick expression he held. Thankfully for you, your uncle witnessed the whole thing as he walked past the kitchen.

"Are you two ever going to date?"

You furrowed your brows. "Me and who?"

"You and Wayne, of course!"

Wayne had been called outside to do some heavy lifting of coolers and furniture, leaving you and your uncle alone to finish up setting the table.

"We're just good friends. If he wanted to date me, I'm sure he would've asked me out by now. Besides, there's no way he likes me like that." You put down a knife a little too forcibly for comfort.

"He hides it well," your uncle continued, "but I saw the way he looked at you earlier when you were turned away. In the kitchen. He really likes you."

"I don't think you saw what you thought you did."

"I know that look. That look is from a man who's deeply in love."

"Yeah, right," you said, huffing as you placed down another napkin, "it'd be a real Christmas miracle if that were true."

"So you feel the same?" asked your uncle, a smile inching on his face.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "No! Well, maybe. I don't know."

"That answer says it all," he said. "Just tell him how you truly feel, deep down inside. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the outcome."

You went to say something else, but Wayne had made a return. Maybe your uncle was right. Maybe it was time to come to the realization that you were in love with Wayne.

Later that night, after the feasting was done and the gifts opened, it was time to go listen to some carolers. You, Wayne, and your entire family were holding little candles and waiting for the singing to start. All of a sudden, your attention was caught by a gorgeous jacaranda tree not too far from where you were standing. You excused yourself from the group, wanting to get a closer look. The vivid purple blooms were still vibrant in the looming darkness and seemed to glimmer under the flickering flame of your candle.

"It's so peaceful out here, isn't it," you practically whispered, noticing Wayne's quiet presence behind you. He didn't answer with words but acknowledged you with a grunt of agreement. You stood side by side in comfortable silence, admiring nature's beauty. The words of your uncle came forefront to your mind as your eyes wandered over Wayne's handsome face, one that was normally stoic, but was currently hosting an unreadable expression. You'd decided to confess your feelings but Wayne spoke up first.

"Y/n, I've had something I've wanted to tell you for a long time so I'm just going to say it. I think you're the most astounding person I've ever had the pleasure to meet and you've been a great friend over the years. But lately I've been feeling feelings for you that are unacceptable between friends. It seems I have, as romance novels would say, fallen in love with you."

"Wayne..." you breathed out, "are you serious?"

He nodded, blinking slowly at you. "As a heart attack."

"Good." You stepped in closer to him, your lips almost brushing against his as you spoke. "You beat me to it, but... I'm in love with you too."

You felt him push forward and connect your lips in a kiss as his hands found their way onto your waist, holding you securely against his body. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss as you realized your Christmas wish came true.