#ducks11

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

z teasing reader because he likes her🫶🏻

[❤︎] pairing: Trevor zegras x gn!reader

[❤︎] warnings: Trevor being an annoying little shit lmao

[❤︎] word count: 416

thanks for participating in the nhl sleepover!

[requests for nhl players previously listed are still open though!!]

If there was one word to describe Trevor Zegras, it would be a tease. A complete and utter teasing bastard. He knowingly pushes your buttons, watching with content and adoration at every reaction he could possibly draw from you. Every pout and crinkle of your eyebrows is met with his annoying grin and contagious laugh. 

“Trevor, give it back!” You protest, arms reaching around him in a lame attempt at snatching your tablet back. He had stolen your iPad from you, swinging his body around to look at the content on the screen. 

“Oh, what’s this? Fanfiction? Or, oh, I know! Your secret fan account you have on me?” Trevor smirks, his eyes brightening when your face flushes. You clearly were not on anything like that; nothing but half a word document was open for your assignment you needed to finish. Trevor holds the tablet above your head, using his height as an advantage over you. 

“Trevor,” you grumble. “Give it back.”

“Oh, Trevor! I love you so much. Notice me, my sexy boy!” He fake moans, tears starting to pick his eyes from how hard he’s laughing. Rolling your eyes at his antics, you stand on the table to try and grab it from him, but he’s quick at swivelling around you to the other side of the table. His eyebrows rise and fall quickly, a shit-eating grin stuck on his stupid face. 

“You’re so full of yourself,” you stalk your way over to him, careful where you place your feet, so you don’t fall. 

“Oh, come on, just admit that you have a crush on me,” 

“Sad for you because I don’t,”

Trevor gasps, clutching at his chest with his other hand. “[y/n], my dear, how could you say that? We’ve been married for 5 years, and you don’t even like me?!” In his dramatic cry, you snatch the iPad from him. 

“Well, then, I’m sure my husband would understand that I really have to get back to work,” you nudge his shoulder with your foot, taking his hand at his offer. His touch is light, but he supports your body in his arms as he sets you on the ground. Your hand softly lowers down his torso, a flush sending straights up to your cheeks — his, too, by the looks of it. 

“I’ll be finished in an hour, then you can go back to annoying me, lover boy.” The nickname completely bemuses him, but he gives you a small nod in return. 

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

I need a Trevor Zegras enemies to lovers!! Please!!!

[❤︎] pairing: Trevor zegras x gn!reader

[❤︎] warnings: enemies-to-lovers trope, trevor gets physically hurt.

[❤︎] word count: 958

thanks for participating in the nhl sleepover!

[requests for nhl players previously listed are still open though!!]

If anyone got under your skin, it was Trevor Zegras. Trevor was the kind of guy who's cocky beyond belief, attractive, and he damn well knows it. He's the kind that everyone seemed to get along with easily — hell, even Jamie Drysdale, a guy on opposite teams once upon a time, had become best friends with him. 

You saw right through him, and he knew that. Something about him made it seem like every little thing he said was behind an ulterior motive. Like he knew that he had everyone wrapped around his fingers. Like he was a king and everyone was his servant. Trevor hated that you weren't bowing at his feet like he believed he deserved you to be.

The two of you were the walking definition of repelling opposites. Every opinion was rebutted, every comment was met with an eye roll and a scoff, every group event had the two of you either avoided each other until you no longer couldn't or clawed at each other's throats. 

And it's precisely why you'll never hate being in a closet with him more than anything. The group was all at Hughes' lake house, where mindless drinking games were played, including 7 minutes in heaven. His breathing is loud, igniting every fibre in your being — the tinkling sensations spreading like wildfire all over your body are becoming increasingly insufferable. 

"Can you, maybe, breathe a little quieter? "

"Can you, maybe, not talk to me? "you roll your eyes at his mockery. The bottle could've landed on anyone but him, but of course, your first go had to be with him. His body is so close to yours, and you swear the closest got even smaller than it was a couple of minutes ago. There's no concept of time in the small confinement, but you were sure the 7 minutes were up by now even though you had stepped in there only a short while ago. 

"What's your deal anyway? "Trevor asks out of the blue. 

"What?"

"Why're you here?"

"Because I was invited?"

"Yeah, by your friend who's dating Alex, not by him himself," 

"Your point?" 

"I mean, come on, none of the guys here is actually friends with —"

"Why is it so hard to believe that people in this group like me?" You scoff, huffing as you cross your arms over your chest. "Can you go back to being silent so we can get out of here quicker?"

"Whatever you say, princess."

"Princess—?!" 

"And time's up! You guys can come out now!" Cole's voice rang from outside. 

"Move," you grumble, pushing him out of the way so you can be the first one out of that goddamn hell hole. If auras were visible, yours would be flaming red. 

 "I'm going home," you say lowly in your friend's ear. 

"What? You can't," she grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room the two of you were staying in. She closes the door and tries to stop you from packing everything into your bag. 

"What, you're mad I made you go in a closet with Trevor?" 

"Yeah, I am, actually. You know how much I hate him—"

"Which I never got an explanation, by the way! What's the harm? He's a nice guy —"

"Exactly. You all worship the ground he walks on, and for what? There's something not right about him, and I seem to be the only person to notice that around here."

Trevor listens from behind the door. Your words roll off him like water droplets on a raincoat. His smirk returns to his face, loving how much he really gets under your skin. 

The rest of the week is gonna be so much fun. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

You didn't want to go. It's not like you had a choice. Alex asked you to come to his game tonight, and your best friend had begged you to be there, so there was no way of getting out of this. You knew it was a ducks v kings game, and guess who would be the star of the show. 

The game was intense, but the ducks were ahead by a couple of points. Your eyes follow as best they can, watching as Shatty passes to Henrique, who — 

Trevor. His body lays motionless on the ice, slowly trying to get up as the ref skates over to him. You're quick to stand up, vision spotty and head dizzying while you watch him clutch at his side. You don't know what's happening, your body completely taking over your mind as you hastily walk through the tunnel. The complete out-of-body experience finds you at the doorframe where Trevor sits uncomfortably, waiting for the medic to examine him. 

"What're you doing here?" He groans, eyes trailing up to meet yours. 

"You look like shit," 

"Thanks, you do, too," he chuckles. Out of everyone, you're the least person he'd expect to be here, let alone be worried about him. For the first time, you laugh at his comeback. 

"In all seriousness, are you okay?"

"Never better," he winks before groaning in pain while clutching at his side again. The medics finally came to his aid. You feel so helpless, so confused, so—

It was Trevor you were talking about. Why would you feel like this? 

"Is he going to be okay?" You mutter to one of the staff as they exit the room. He nods, "Just needs to rest for a couple of days and make sure he has that icepack on that nasty bruise. You can go see your boyfriend now," 

Boyfriend? The word never affected you before, especially when talking about Trevor. But it sure did stir something inside you.

Maybe you did care about him all along. 

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Can you do Trevor annoying the reader to death and the reader gives him silent treatment and is really pissed off

[❤︎] pairing: trevor zegras x gn!reader

[❤︎] warnings: (other than trevor being annoying) none!

[❤︎] word count: 823

nhl requests are open!

You had just gotten back to your room from a walk. Everything had been irritating you — from pointless work meetings that could have been emailed, to your roommate making noise all around the apartment (I mean, come on, who the hell puts dishes away that goddamn loudly?). The sun was shining; for once, it wasn’t raining, and you desperately needed to get out. 

You take the earbuds in time to hear a knock on your bedroom door. Great, just when you request to be alone for one day, someone has to ruin it. You swing your door open, and you’re met with your worst nightmare. Well, not really; you like Trevor, but now is not the time for his stupid antics. 

“[y/n]! How’s my best friend in the whole world doing?!” His boisterous voice rings in your ears, and his arms encircle you. 

“Put me down, T,” you sigh, pushing him off you. Usually, Trevor is a fun person to be around. His energetic puppy-dog energy is endearing, and you’ve sworn you’ve never had as much fun with another person before. He’s this beacon of light that always finds a way to shine. 

But sometimes, he likes to play with fire. He relishes getting you riled up and irritated; he likes poking fun at nearly everything you do (all in good favour, of course). He finds it most fun when you don’t hide your irritation — when most people would try to be as polite as they can to diffuse the exasperation building. Not you. You let him know when he’s too much and is getting on your nerves. 

Trevor follows you to the living room, slumping down on the couch next to you. His finger pokes at your thigh, not stopping until you turn your head. A devious smile plays on his lips at your glare. Good, he thinks. 

“Not today, Z. I’m too tired for your crap,” 

“Oh, come on, sweetcheeks. You know you love me,” he sing-songs, rubbing his forehead against your arm. Shrugging him off, you expel a sigh accompanied by the fourth eye roll in the last 5 minutes. Already off to a good start, Trevor thinks and covers his smirk with his hand for a moment. The show on the tv is pissing you off, the laugh track surging beacons of electricity through your body. Do they seriously need to laugh at every line? I mean, come on. 

Trevor pokes your arm, cautiously watching your non-reaction. He does it again. 

“Can you knock it off?” 

“Sorry, my hand slipped,” he raises his hands in surrender, a playful laugh expelling from his lips. Your eyes close, and a disgruntled and exasperated breath sighs through your nose, indicating to Trevor that he’s finally got you in a spot where he wants you. He pokes you again. Your final straw. Your feet stomp their way to your room, the door slamming with irritation that only makes Trevor laugh. Of course, he finds you amusing in this mood. 

After letting you cool down, Trevor knocks softly on your door. Your headphones are too loud to hear, and he figured you’d have them in any way, so he lets himself in. Your eyes shoot to where he stands, all cute in his hoodie and hair, all fluffy and soft. You’re not sure if it’s guilt from being too harsh in this mood or if the irritation is still lingering within you. Perhaps the irritation feeling is Trevor himself — as if he were a human embodiment of the emotion.  

“I won’t annoy you, I promise,” he says, despite the headphones still blearing in your ears. He invites himself over to your bed, sitting comfortably against the wall. Shifting the focus to your laptop, you realise you missed half a scene and have no idea what is happening in the show. Perfect, just perfect, honestly. Now, you have to rewind a couple of minutes, and it sure wouldn’t have happened if Trevor hadn’t interrupted you. 

Trevor’s eyes scan over the items in your room. He’s not sure if he’s really ever taken notice of the small details; from where your hairbrush sits ontop of your jewlery box, or the papers scattered across your desk from college assignements, or perhaps it was the photos that displayed over the dressing mirror. Pictures of the two of you stand out to him. Sure, you were just friends, but there is something so sentimental about having those memories pinned to an intimate space such as your bedroom that makes his heart feel warm. 

The warmth of his hand on your leg draws you out of focus. Pausing the show, his voice rings through your ears, unlike it did before. 

“I’m sorry, okay. I won’t annoy you anymore. You have my word,” his soft laugh cracks a smile on your face. “Aye, there’s that smile!” 

“Shut up,” you groan, nodding for him to sit next to you. 

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

trevor's godly parent would be zeus. yes or no.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

but on the other hand, z was great last game as per usual lmao