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sweetsbfreex · 10 months

Text

who loves you

summary: a four month long situationship with Ari goes south when you see a text you shouldn't have

pairing: college!hockey player!ari x situationship/fwb!reader

warnings: none?

Fuck. You felt refreshed and blissed out as you sat up and stretched. Watching Ari’s bare, fit body disappear into his bathroom.

It always surprised you how he showers without his phone because that meant he showered with no music. You couldn’t imagine taking a shower without music, how else would you fulfill your popstar dreams. But alas, Ari was different from a lot of the guys you’ve previously been with.

You drop back against his bed, smiling at the ache between your legs. Ari was a lot of things and a sex god was definitely one of them.

The incessant buzzing from a phone..his phone jerks you from your blissed out state.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Okay, what the hell?

You grab his phone beside you, it comes to life when you lift it.

Joy ;)

—Meet you in the parking lot after? My place?

—I’ll wear the special panties with your number on them

You squint as more texts roll in. Special panties? Her place? The fucking winky emoji by her name?

What. The. Fuck.

You stare in disbelief for who knows how long, feeling a little hurt and naive.

“Why is my phone in your hand?”

Ari stands at the end of his bed. A towel wrapped around his hips as he runs another through his shoulder length hair. Your eyes can’t really help to worship the droplets over his chest.

“Who’s Joy?” You push out the question.

You can see something change in Ari as he walks over and takes his phone from your grasp. “None of your business, why are you snooping around”

You scoff, “I wasn’t snooping! It kept buzzing and I thought it was an emergency or something. Who’s Joy?” you question again, annoyed at the way he’s avoiding your question.

“I don’t appreciate you looking through my phone. And she’s none of your fucking buisness, so drop it”

You stare up at him, subconsciously lifting his sheet to cover your bare chest.

“You’re having sex with other people?” you accuse, and deep down you're confident you know the answer, but that naive part of you is hoping it’s all a misunderstanding.

“And if I am? We’re just fucking around too. Are we not?”

Your breath stutters at his admission. Although the two of you have never stated terms of this…relationship, his actions have always spoken louder than words. Everyone thought the two of you were together. Even though he’s never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, you always had an inkling that he would at some point.

Your stomach flips thinking of his protectiveness over you, the way he’d always pay if he was there, and the way he goes out of his way to check up on you after his practices. Or the way you’re always there for him at every game, his number and name on your back as you cheer him on.

Shit, even the sex was anything unlike a pair of friends. It always felt intimate between the two of you. Your toothbrush stood next to his in his bathroom, and yours, for Christ sakes.

“Are you being serious right now?”

Ari shrugs. Fucking shrugs at your question.

“Y/n, I don’t understand why you’re upset. In no way have I ever committed myself to you.”

That stings.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” You mutter, trying to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t.”

“Fuck you, Ari.” You seethe, dressing yourself with speed. “Have fun with Joy.” You tell him, buttoning your jeans, and gathering your shoes in your hand. Anything to get out of this humiliating scenario.

You shove your way past Ari’s confused figure. Which stops you as he grabs your elbow, “I’m not understanding what the big deal is? You’re telling me you haven’t been sleeping around.”

You remove your elbow from his grasp, “No. I haven’t. And if I did, I’d at least have the decency to let you know.” And with that, you’re out of the room.

Ari stands there for at least a minute, disgruntled and confused with what the fuck just happened. He shakes his head trying to figure out whatever the fuck he was missing.

“You’re a fucking idiot, a moron if you will. Maybe a dodo would fit better?—” Ransom laughs to himself as relaxes in his spot in the frats living room, snacking on his favorite biscuit cookies.

“Ran,” Steve interrupts the way Ransom isn’t helping. Softly shaking his head in reprimandment. “Now isn’t the time.”

Ransom only shrugs, and looks back to the television.

“I hate to say it, man. But Ransom is right, the only answer was in front of you the whole time.” Sam tosses in his opinion, clapping Ari on the back.

“Well what the fuck is it? Why is no one saying what I’m missing?”

“She likes you, Levinson.” Bucky answers, walking through the living room and out the door, his key to his motorcycle swirling around a finger. He didn’t need to know the full conversation to know what exactly was going on. He would’ve stayed to watch the aftermath, but he had a certain spicy redhead waiting for him at her apartment

Ari doesn’t mean to sound dramatic, but he quite literally feels the world tilt on its axis at the discovery. He’s admired you for a while, but never in his mind did he think he was the right guy for you. He’s seen the guys you’ve dated before and they were the complete opposite.

Intelligent, brainy, in tons of clubs, they wouldn’t do stupid shit like fighting on ice skates because it’s fun. They were guys who any mother would love.

Fuck. He can’t believe this, there’s no way.

“What—“

“Dude, you can’t be so blind, to not see how in love with you she basically is,” Ransom says around a mouth full of cookies. “The sex is probably great, but you think a chick like her is gonna wanna be around you without an ounce of admiration.”

“I think what Ransom is trying to say is: there’s a lot of telling that y/n has feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure her getting offended that you’re sleeping with other people is a big one.” Steve says.

“Fuck.” Ari groans, running his hand down his face and over his scruff.

“How would you feel if y/n told you she was screwing someone else?” Sam asks.

“Livid.”

Sam snaps his finger pointing at the dark look already on Ari’s face. “There you go.”

“Fuck. She’s not even answering my calls. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Give her time to cool. If anything, maybe she’ll be at the game?” Steve offers.

“Maybe,” Ari mutters.

But you never picked up a single call and for some reason, even picked up that Ari thought of swinging by your apartment. You had texted him to leave you alone.

And then Saturday rolled around…

“How long have you been into hockey? I’d never take you up as a sports girl. Sorry that sounded terrible—“

“It’s okay, Jake.” You laugh. “Not until this year, you’re right I’m not really into sports at all. What about you?”

“I really got into it with my dad, we used to watch every game together if we could,” he smiles at the memories.

“That’s really sweet,” you smile back, placing your hand over his.

Jake Jensen is a computer science major you befriended over your French class last semester. But the both of you basically ran in the same social groups, leading to you guys staying friends.

When talking about the upcoming game, you had let it slip that you passed the deadline to donate your ticket, and couldn’t find anyone to sell it to. Leaving you to go to the game alone or getting a strike.

Jake was kind enough to let you join him. You would’ve joined Natasha and the others, but it felt too weird to you and you wanted no chance running into Ari. Especially since you weren’t wearing his jersey like you usually do.

You haven’t spoken to him all week, minus the small text you sent, and you refused to. Even though he had tried non stop to run into you on campus.

“Have you—“ Jake starts, but is interrupted by the commentators introducing the team. Everyone stood up and cheered at the sight of the school’s players.

Ari skates out with a smile on his face, lifting a hand in the air as he waves and joins the line of his teammates. As he does so, he tries to find you, but it’s hard to distinguish you among the wave of people in the stadium. Especially since you weren’t seated in your undesignated-designated seat closer to the rink.

But he shakes it off, putting himself in the right mindset for the game.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our favorite time of the night: THE KISS CAM!”

Some players skate and others like Ari, watch the Jumbotron during the brief break.

The first is an elderly couple, then a pair of random strangers who kiss under the playful pressure, two pairs of students, parents with their children who dramatically gag. That makes everyone chuckle, including himself.

They go around the stadium one last and he cannot fucking believe it. His hand becomes around his stick.

He can feel his teammates staring at him in sympathy. But Ari cannot look away from the Jumbotron.

The first thing he notices is your flustered smile, that you came to the game sans his jersey, and the most noticeable of all is the dork sitting next to you with his arm behind your seat, looking just as bashful.

He’s livid. You’ve been avoiding him all week, probably doing who knows what with this guy.

“You know what you gotta do,” teases the commentator. You laugh behind the back of your hand. Jake sits beside you just as flustered, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb.

In no way is he against kissing Y/n, but he also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“C’mon folks!”

You stare at Jake, shrugging a shoulder in question. Jake only smiles back before sitting up straighter. The both of you go to lean in. Your lips press softly against his until a loud smack of temper glass breaks it up.

The two of you jolt away at the sound of a disgruntled voice. You look to see Ari, “hey!” His voice booms. “Back the fuck off my girl!”

“What— who is he?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he points towards the enraged giant pointing a menacing finger towards him.

“An asshole who doesn’t know what he wants.” You answer, shaking your head towards Ari before you place a kiss on Jake’s cheek.

You watch as Ari stands behind the plexiglass. And even though you’re about eight rows back, you can see the confused and upset expression on his face. A pinch in his eyebrows and a pitiful glare in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry about that, Jake.”

“It’s nothing, don't worry.” He smiles, “Do you want popcorn or anything?”

“Sour patch kids, if that’s alright.”

“No problem.”

You look at anywhere but Ari during the rest of the brief intermission.

Ari 🏒🦁

—Meet me outside the locker room

—Please?

You sigh as you grab your stuff. Just before the two of you reach outside the stadium, you gain Jake’s attention.

“I’m really sorry to cut our hangout short, but I had a lot of fun. I just have to handle something really quickly.”

Jake tries not to show the disappointment on his face, “I’m gonna rightfully assume it has something to do with that ‘asshole who doesn’t know what he wants’?”

“Unfortunately,” you smile ruefully.

“Okay,” he nods his head. “I hope everything goes well. I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you hug him before you make your way outside the doors of the locker rooms, with no trouble which you can guess is because of Ari.

You smile awkwardly at the glances of Ari’s teammates. You hate that everyone has seen that happen and you assume most of his teammates know the intimate details of what’s gone down between you two. Which only adds another layer of unnecessary awkwardness. Time passes before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, looking up to see Steve at your side, a timid grin.

“The locker is all cleared out, he’s in there waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Ari?” You walk in to him tying his sweatpants.

He turns around with a mournful look on his face. His sweatpants low enough that you can see the bands of his Calvin’s; he’s shirtless so his six pack is on display and glistening from his shower; his hair is disheveled, but the ends still curl at the ends; and he has a towel thrown over shoulder.

You can ask any women how they could not be hung up on a guy as attractive as him.

“Hey,” he sends a small smile, making his way towards you.

“Wait—“ you interrupt, “We cannot have this conversation if you’re shirtless.”

He won’t argue, but he does as you’ve said and throws on some ratty t shirt in his locker. He sits on the bench in front of his locker, patting the spot next to you.

You sit beside him, making sure to keep some distance between you two.

“I see you’re not wearing your jersey?”

The audacity of men will always surprise you.

“Your jersey and is that really the first thing you want to talk about?”

“You’re right…” warily his hand grabs yours and when he sees you won’t retract from him, he brings it his plush lips. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. Seriously.”

“What you said Sunday was totally uncalled for and spiteful— and where do you get off announcing to practically the whole state that I'm your girl? And You embarrassed poor Jake for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothin’ and the douche will be fine.” He staggers at the fire in your eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“That seems to be the only thing you can say,” you huff. You turn to him, needing to know the answer to this. “Are you really sleeping with other people?”

He notices how small your voice is as you ask.

He sighs and looks down for a little, before tightening the grasp of your hand. “I was.”

You stand up while trying to get Ari to let go of your hand. The last thing you want is for him to see the tears begging to fall.

Ari stands with you in haste, bringing his other hand to palm your cheek as he looks down at you. Those piercing blue eyes saying so many things at once. “Was. I was. Listen, I haven’t slept with anyone else other than you since last month. It was a moment of weakness and you can’t be mad at me for it. We’ve never made anything official, baby.”

“Do you even care about me? At all.”

It feels vulnerable and desirous, but you’re unsure how you can continue without asking.

“What? Did tonight not show you that?”

You go to argue, but he cuts you off before you can start.

Both his hands cup your face while his thumb draws circles on the apple of your cheekbones.

“I love you.”

Your breath picks up at his admission.

“It’s been months coming, but you gotta know since our first night together I haven’t slept with anyone other than Joy and that was only once. And I didn’t think I could tell you because.. I’m just not the guy you typically go for, Y/n. But I guess that was my own insecurities playing a part of that. I’m rambling and i probably sound like Steve after he takes one hit. But I promise I’ve admired you for so long and it has never been just sex to me. I don’t want my stupid mistake to get in the way of us trying correctly this time.”

You swing your arm over the back of his neck and pull him in a kiss, your other hand fists his shirt.

He lags at first before his brain catches up and he’s kissing you back harder. He tilts his head just a smidge like he always does and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head. You feel his other hand cup the side your body. His hand roams up and down before he’s slipping it behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan into him, pressing your body closer to him.

Both your breaths pick up and you know you need a breather. So you pull away in a blur.

“I love you too.”

He smiles at your admission. One of those adorable, rare smiles not many get to see from the broody man.

You smack his arm and he grabs it with a questioning look.

“But I’m still really pissed at you and I’m not letting you off easy.”

“Even if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He snakes his brawny arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he ducks to kiss your cheek.

“Even then,” you giggle, turning his head for a kiss. “And that’s a yes.”

a/n: it's been so long, hi!!! sorry i disappeared

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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helloooo, i have a request if its possible♡

since we got figure skater! Sirius..... Do you think we could get hockey player! James x figure skater! reader? Maybe they go to the same place but the place where they practice its kinda shitty so its literally kinda like an across the hallway situation where the hockey practice happens on one ice rink and when you leave you can walk thru the ice rink of the figure skaters that its on another section of the place IDK I'M NOT AN ARCHITECT SORRY

BUT THE POINT ITS, that one day James leaves practice later than usual and he's walking to get out but he heards his favorite song playing and he goes to see whats up because its his favorite song ever! and goes to the other ice rink and sees the reader practicing and inmediatly he has the biggest crush ever and its almost dreaming about a house and three kids with that cute girl

idk i think i explained myself like sht but hope you like the idea! cause i think it would be soo cute

Hi lovely, you explained yourself perfectly! Thanks for being so patient with me, I hope this is alright <3

hockey player!James x figure skater!reader ♡ 718 words

James’ entire body is pleasantly sore, and he’s very much looking forward to going home to a nice, hot shower.

“Do you and Moony want to go get breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks Sirius as they leave the locker room. The two of them had taken longer than usual changing out of their gear, Sirius filling him in on the absolute hell week Remus had at his new job. To hear Sirius talk about it, all the other professors are simply jealous of Remus. James is sure that’s partly true, but he’d bet they need less reason than that. Somehow, James had thought leaving school would mean emerging into a more mature world, but adults seem just as petty as teenagers. Maybe pancakes and a good, uplifting chat would do something to take the sting out of Remus’ first week and help prepare him for the next.

Sirius cuts James a sideways look, gray eyes narrowed. “Breakfast at what time?”

“I was thinking six, six thirty.” Sirius scoffs, and James grins. “Only joking. How’s eleven?”

“Still too early,” Sirius grumbles, “but we’ll go.”

James bobs his head, pleased to have a course of action for helping his friend. “Ask Moons where he feels like going, and just…” He hears a faint, familiar melody. “...just let me know.”

“Sounds good.” Sirius pushes open the door, but James has stopped. He’s looking back towards the rink, intrigued. “Coming?”

James waves him off. “In a bit. See you tomorrow.”

Sirius makes an amused sound, not unused to James’ diversions, and goes.

James follows the sound of his favorite song, unabashed about bopping his head to the beat as he approaches the rink. He knows figure skaters sometimes use the rink after his hockey practice has wrapped up, and he absolutely has to see who’s choreographed a routine to this. He comes to a stop near the edge of the bleachers, and watches through the tempered glass as one lone skater launches into a turn.

This wouldn’t be the track James would have thought of for a figure skating routine, but frankly, you’re doing it justice. Your movements are springy and nimble as you glance across the ice, one complicated-looking move to the next to the next. It seems like both skates are never touching the ground for more than half a second. There’s a lot to be said, probably, about your skill, your technique, but James is a philistine. All he can think about is how pretty you look.

You’re gorgeous. Stunning. Graceful in your movements and seraphim in your countenance. A wisp of hair has freed itself from the confines of the rest and whips about your face, but you don’t seem to notice it, your gaze steady and lips just slightly pursed in concentration.

James would never tell his friends because they’d mock him to hell and back, but he does believe in love at first sight. Only under particular circumstances, though. The sight has to be good enough—meaning, he has to see some aspect of who that person is behind a pretty face. You certainly do have a pretty face, and you’re dancing to his favorite song, and James doesn’t understand how he could ever be expected to not be totally enamored with you after this one spectacular look. He worries that if you glance over, you’ll see him with giant cartoon hearts boinging out of his eyes on springs.

The song ends, and you spin to a stop. James’ breathing stops, too, as your gaze lands on a point not ten feet to his right. He wonders if he’s being creepy. It’s not like this is a private rink, and James wouldn’t be weirded out if he spotted someone watching him running drills or something (actually, if it were you he’d be over the moon about it), but he’s been told not everyone feels like he does about that stuff. And though he hardly thinks of himself as intimidating, James is also a big guy. He wants to woo you, not spook you.

You skate to the edge of the rink to restart your music, and James slips out. He hears it blaring softly behind him, and he probably looks like a total idiot when he grins and dances out the front door. An idiot in love.

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starsandhughes · 8 months

Text

Didn't Know What Love Was— Quinn Hughes

summary: you were somewhat of a cynic when it came to love. you didn't believe in it, and if it was real, you didn't want it. that is, until your best friend sets you up with a certain hockey player named quinn.

warnings: swearing, fade to black smut (like extremely fade to black), fluff

word count: 3.9k+

MASTERLIST

this is inspired by the song 'didn't know what love was' by kane brown!

You weren’t expecting to feel this way.

You didn’t think this feeling was real.

Love.

You’ve said it, you’ve been told it, but all of those instances weren’t real to you. You get to a certain point in a relationship and someone says it first and you think, yeah, I guess that’s what this is. It was nothing like how it was portrayed in the movies, because they were just movies. Movies are fake, so you thought love was, too. It always ended. It always included drama. And then you’d find someone new.

You’ve never been more wrong.

February 20, 2021

“Mack, have you ever thought of the fact that I’m just not meant for a relationship? It’s all bullshit anyways,” you grumbled. You were laying on your back horizontally on bed with your feet hanging off the edge, settled on the floor. Your best friend, Mackenzie, was once again setting you up on a date. “You’re single now! Find yourself a date!”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and sat next to you, “I’m not ready to get back out there! It’s only been two weeks since Jason and I broke up and we dated for seven months. You, however, have been single for almost a year!”

“You’re only proving my point, Mack!” you said, sitting up. “Relationships end. They’re messy and leave us heartbroken. And maybe the magic blinds you for a while and you get married, but I’ve met more people with divorced parents than married ones. And I’ve seen so many loveless marriages that the couple only sticks together because they wouldn’t know what else to do. I’ve seen couples break up in restaurants. I’ve seen couples fight and scream at a public park. Love isn’t real. And if it is, I can live without it.”

Mackenzie looked at you with the most pity filled expression you’ve ever seen. She believes in love. She believes in the shitty romance novels and shitty movies. But you’ve picked up her pieces too many times to even contemplate believing in it.

“Love is real!” she exclaimed. “How else could people have written sonnets and movies and books and songs about it?”

“People write stuff about monsters, too, but you don’t see any people bursting into flames in the sunlight,” you said.

“In Twilight they sparkled!”

“I don’t give a shit what they did, they’re still made up,” you laughed. “It’s called fiction for a reason.”

“You can’t make up a feeling. You can’t make up being so enamored by someone that you miss them so bad it hurts when they’re not with you!”

“You’re just repeating things you’ve heard in movies about love!” you argued. “You haven’t even been in love. Not truly. You told me so when you broke up with Jason.”

“So go on this date, and if it all works out, you can tell me what love is. They even call oxytocin the love chemical! You believe in science! And I believe that this guy is the perfect match for you,” your best friend continued to beg. “Think of it as a science experiment.”

You ended up caving, more so to get Mackenzie to stop begging. It’s not like you were against dating, you’ve had plenty of relationships, but after so many failed ones you stop seeing the point. You could get your needs met without being tied down and risking becoming attached. That’s all that “love” really was. Attachment. Sure, it’s nice to have one person that’s somewhat of a best friend to spend your life with. But adding all of that “girlfriend and boyfriend” stuff to it is destined for failure. And you were done with it.

When you found him at the restaurant, you were taken back. You’d seen pictures of him so that you’d know who to look for, but he looked so much better in person. His hair looked unbelievably soft, and he somehow made the locks seemingly out of place look perfect. His soft eyes were to die for, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up made the veins in his arm visible. All you wanted to do was trace them.

“Y/N?” the boy asked when he noticed you staring. He stood up to greet you, helping you slip off your jacket to hang on the back of the chair as he pulled it out for you. He waited for you to sit down before taking a seat himself. “I’m Quinn.”

“So I’ve heard,” you chuckled. “I’ve been told that you’re the sweetest guy Mackenzie knows and are bound to change my mind about my stance on relationships.”

“I’ve heard you don’t believe in love,” Quinn countered.

Your eyes widened, and if you were taking a drink, you would’ve choked on it.

“Wow,” you said amused. “Mack jumped to the nitty gritty then? I take it this means that you do believe in love?”

“I do,” Quinn confirmed.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Not yet. But I’ve seen it. My parents have the purest love I’ve ever seen. They spread it to everyone they know and everyone my brothers and I know. They make it hard to not believe in it.”

You couldn’t help but feel soft at his statement. You’ve never heard anyone tell you that they believe in love because of their parents. Hell, you haven’t really had a guy firmly tell you that he believes in love. It was always your girl friends swearing up and down that “the one” is out there.

“Are you going to teach me how to love, Quinn Hughes?” you said flirtily, placing your hand under your chin.

Quinn reached across the table and grabbed your other hand, “I’m going to show you what a romantic date is supposed to be like. And if you like it, I’ll take you on another. And another. And if we get there, I’ll show you how a real man acts as a boyfriend. And hopefully, along the way, we’ll fall in love. And I won’t say it until I know it’s there.”

“How will you know it’s love?” you asked. He already had you melting at his advances.

“I’ll know when it’s a feeling I’ve never felt before. I’ll know when it’s a feeling that can’t be described as anything but love. Are you in?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Quinn was serious. He didn’t want a fling. He wasn’t here to get sex at the end of the night. He was here to see if he can find the real thing with you. He was here for a challenge.

“I’m in.”

Over dinner you two did the usual small chat about yourselves, but that quickly developed into telling full out stories. It wasn’t awkward with him like it had been on some other first dates. You were strangely very comfortable with him.

He told you about his summer at his lake house with his family and friends, you told him about your trip to London with your cousins. He told you about how he first met Mack when she was drunk off her ass at a party back when she was still dating Brock, the only ex she ended on good terms with and is still friends with, and you told him about how she was not her drunkest at that party, and that one time you two snuck out of a party to have a lightsaber fight but didn’t have lightsabers so you used traffic cones.

“You did not!” Quinn laughed.

“We did!” you shouted over your laughs. You were definitely getting stares, but you didn’t care. “I beat her ass, too.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. I totally had the high ground.”

Quinn walked you to your car at the end of the night. You two shut down the restaurant, neither one of you desired to leave. You boldly grabbed his hand as you started walking and were relieved when he looped your fingers together in response.

“Did you have a good time?” Quinn asked you when you arrived at your car.

“I really did. I’m not sure I want it to end,” you admitted.

You wanted so badly to ask him to come over. But he told you that he wanted to give you a romantic date, not a pre-sex affair. He’s looking for something real. Something that isn’t just sex.

“Me either,” he smiled.

As you two looked at each other, your eyes started flickering from his to his lips. He noticed, but you knew that he was doing the same.

Your hunger ended when Quinn finally leaned in. His hands slid down your waist and settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Yours went up and around his neck, happily content feeling the ends of his hair.

Quinn kissed you in a way that you’ve never been kissed before. It was soft. Sensual. It had you aching for more. The feeling that people describe as “sparks flying?” You were pretty sure this was it.

The kiss wasn’t rough; it wasn’t filled with primal need.

It left you breathless. Lightheaded. Warm.

It was the type of kiss that told you there was more to him. And all you wanted to do was learn.

“That was—“

“Don’t describe it,” Quinn cut you off in a whisper. He reached his hand out to cup your face, “Just feel it.”

All you could do was nod your head. You felt your entire body quivering at his touch.

Quinn smiled and opened up your car door for you, “Tell me when you get home?”

“Y-yeah. I will,” you stammered. You couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Drive safe!”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” you smiled.

You watched him walk away in your rear view mirror, smiling madly. Quinn left you feeling like a giddy little girl. It was something that no one else has ever done.

March 16, 2021

You were going on your fifth date with Quinn tonight, and Mack was swearing up and down that Quinn was going to make things official.

“Y/N/N, trust me!” she said while dramatically shaking you by the shoulders.

“I want to!” you laughed, shoving her off of you. “I just don’t want to get any hopes up. We’re going out to have a good time and that’s it!”

“Hopes up you say?” Mack asked as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Does that mean you want Quinn to ask you? Do you, Y/N Y/L/N, WANT a boyfriend just mere weeks after saying you were done with dating forever?”

“I didn’t say forever!”

“Alright!” she surrendered. “I’m keeping my mouth shut because I don’t want to jinx anything, but just know that I am a very happy girl right now!”

You shook your head at your best friend’s nonsense. Okay, maybe you were hoping what she was saying will turn out to be true tonight, and maybe you were liking the goodnight calls and good morning texts and mid day updates. And maybe you relish in the smile Quinn gives you when you stand at the glass during warm ups at his games while you wear his jersey. And maybe you’ve never felt like this before, and it was making you the happiest you’ve ever been. But you weren’t sure if it was love. Love was still a weary and scary concept for you at this point. But maybe… maybe this is pre-love? Maybe this is the build up. Maybe this is the jump before the fall.

You weren’t scared of jumping.

Whatever it is, you’re pretty positive it’s too early for love. You’re just now open to the idea of love because of Quinn, so you certainly were skeptical at the notion of “love at first sight.” Although, it’s been a little too long to count as “first sight.” Love at fifth date? Love at hundredth facetime? Call it what you want, but it still felt way too soon.

You were still doing your makeup when there was a knock at the door, signaling that Quinn was here.

“Mack, could you—“

“I’m already on it!” she cut you off, rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You tried to finish up your mascara really quickly, but that only resulted in your dropping it and smearing some across your cheek.

“Shit!”

“Shit?” you heard Quinn ask. You gasped in surprise, and he just laughed as he approached you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed the top of your head before taking a look at you, “Ahh. I see the source of the shit.”

“It’ll wipe off, it’s fine,” you shrugged. “I’ll just need five more minutes?”

Quinn smiled, “Take all the time you need to feel happy.”

If you were alone and that was a text, you’d probably be kicking your feet at Quinn’s comment. He didn’t say anything teasing that you take forever, he didn’t use the cliché “you look pretty without makeup” or whatever, he said that he wants you to feel happy with your appearance. You didn’t know why that felt more romantic than a compliment; it just did. He was focusing on your emotions and confidence. He was validating you. Validation and understanding feels a lot more intimate than a compliment about your appearance.

“I’m ready!” you sing-songed as you climbed down the stairs.

Quinn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands behind his back and a soft smile on his face.

You jumped from the fourth step down to the second step. You reached out gently to tilt Quinn’s face towards yours and leaned down to crash your lips against his. You stepped down to the final step to become level with when he deepened the kiss. He released one of his hands to place it at the small of your back in order to draw you in, but the other remained.

“Whatcha hidin’, handsome?” you asked cheekily.

Quinn’s other hand quickly whipped around in front of his center and revealed a bouquet of daisies and lavender. You gasped and kissed him quick, taking the bouquet from him and inhaling its sweet scent with a smile after your lips parted.

“They’re beautiful,” you told him.

“They’re not the only thing,” he whispered.

“You flirt,” you blushed.

You both bid your goodbyes to Mackenzie and walked out the door. Quinn rushed slightly ahead of you to open up the passenger door for you before making his way to the driver's seat. It was a quick drive to the mini golf place, and it was filled with you two goofily singing along to the radio.

When you got there, you were surprised at how many people and families there were. It was a Saturday night, but still. You didn’t know this many people went mini golfing at any given moment.

You picked out a pink club, and Quinn grabbed a green one. He held out his hand for you to take, and for once, you didn’t feel weird holding somebody’s hand in public. It was a small act, but it was still a big deal for you. You used to do it with previous boyfriends, but that was because you felt like you had to in order to try and feel like you were in a normal relationship. You want to hold Quinn’s hand. You love the way your hand fits in his and how warm his hands are. You love how rough they feel compared to your soft ones. Just this simple action made you feel safe and less overwhelmed by the amount of people. It made you feel like it was just you and him.

“Ready to lose, Y/L/N?” Quinn taunted you.

“Don’t be so cocky,” you teased back. “I’m a pro at this.”

“You said you haven’t been mini golfing in years!” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m trying to speak me winning into the universe, Quintin!”

Needless to say, you were terrible, but Quinn gave you two extra puts each round to try and get you more points. It didn’t make much of a difference for how badly he was beating you, but it made you feel good.

“What ever happened to letting the girl win?” you groaned. “Some gentleman you are.”

Quinn softly smiled and walked over to you. Placing his hands on the small of your back, he kissed you gently, “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t fake sucking.”

You dramatically threw your head back, groaned, then gave him a pout when you looked back at him. Quinn laughed and kissed you again, effectively wiping the pout off your face.

This was also something big for you– kissing in public. PDA. You’ve never done that. You always pulled away or forced the kiss to be a quick peck instead. You were worried about people staring and judging. But not with Quinn. You didn’t care who was around, you wanted them to know that you were happy.

Unsurprisingly, Quinn won. He cheered with his club in both hands being held above his head, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Stop parading around like you just won the Stanley Cup!” you shouted.

Quinn whipped his head towards you in mock offense. He walked towards you and kissed you again, much more firmly this time, “I’m sorry you sucked.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled.

“I do believe me winning deserves a prize!”

“Oh yeah? And what did you have in mind?” you smirked.

You were expecting his answer to be something along the lines of another kiss or going out for ice cream, but what he said proved your best friend to be correct.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked you softly. He was confident in his question. He had the biggest smile on his face that was filled with so much hope and admiration.

“I’d love to,” you answered.

Now Quinn really looked like he won the Stanley Cup. His eyes lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and his smile looked like it hurt. You should know, because your smile was so big that it did hurt. Quinn hugged you so tightly that your feet kicked off the ground and he spun you in a circle. When he put you back down, he kissed you passionately. It was different than every other kiss you two have shared, given that is a small number since this was only your fifth date. This one meant more. This one said more.

When he walked you to your door and kissed you goodbye, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned around slowly, and you knew that the look in your eyes said all that you wanted to say.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive.”

Mackenzie was already in her room for the night, much to your relief. You and Quinn kissed all the way up the stairs and into your bedroom. The second your bedroom door closed; clothes began to be thrown off. He threw you on your back onto your bed like it was nothing, then he climbed on top of you and began to pepper kissed up your stomach, through your neck, across your jaw, until he finally reached your lips again.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he said low.

“Don’t stop,” you panted. “Please don’t stop.”

April 14, 2021

You were pretty sure you were feeling it. No, you knew you were feeling it.

Love.

You were feeling just like the movies and love songs and poems said– you were enamored by Quinn. You missed him so bad that it hurt when you weren’t with him, especially when he was on roadies during the season (you were selfishly glad that it’s over for the time being). You felt like the best version of yourself when he was around. But you were also learning that your definition of love was so much more than that.

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT WOULD HAPPEN! I KNEW IT!” Mackenzie screamed when you told her.

“Alright!” you giggled. “You knew it, you did it, congratulations! Now how do I tell him? Do I wait for him to tell me? What if it goes away and I don’t–”

“Are you sure it’s love?” she cut you off.

“I am. It’s new, and it’s freeing, and it’s–agh! It’s perfect. It has to be,” you said, covering your hands over your face so that she couldn’t see how wildly you were blushing and grinning.

Mack grabbed your wrists and yanked your hands off your face, “I don’t think that’s going away, babe! Now tell me! The deal was that you’d tell me what love is! Spill it! And don’t quote the movies!”

“I think love is different for everybody. I’m feeling the stuff that they say in the movies and the sonnets and the songs, but it’s so much more than that. Love is… wild. Love is like a never-ending joy ride with the windows down and your favorite songs blaring on the stereo. Love is like that feeling you get in your body when you hear a new song, and it absolutely consumes you to where you heat up and feel like you're vibrating. Love is feeling like you could do the impossible as long as your person is right there beside you. Love can feel like you’re flying.

“But love can also make you feel safe. Love is feeling at home with your person, no matter where you are. You could be in the backseat of a car, but if you were with your person? That could be home for the time being. Love is like that feeling of pride and relief when you deep clean your house for the first time in forever. Love is like sitting by the ocean and watching the waves crash against the sand, and none of the sand ends up in your shoes.

“Loving Quinn feels like a breath of fresh air. Loving Quinn makes me feel like I finally know who I am and who I could be. Loving Quinn makes me feel alive for the very first time. It’s everything.”

Mack looked like she could burst into tears then and there. You were about to hug her when an all too familiar voice ceased your movements.

“Did you mean that?”

You turned around so quickly that your head spun. There, standing at the edge of your living room, was Quinn.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a nod. “Every word.”

Quinn rushed towards you and cupped your face, slamming his lips onto yours. You heard Mack clap with glee, but you didn’t care. She was slipping away, and only you and Quinn existed in the world at this very moment.

“I love you,” you breathed when you two had to come up for air.

“I love you,” Quinn echoed. “You described it perfectly. I felt every word. I am helplessly, irrevocably, completely, and utterly in love with you. I’ll never stop saying it. Not now that I know what it means.”

“I didn’t believe in love before you. I didn’t know what love was. It’s you, Quinn. My love is yours, and only yours.”

The smile on Quinn’s face was contagious, but your face was already painted with one. You didn’t expect to fall in love, and you certainly didn’t expect to say it first. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a god, maybe it was the stars aligning. You didn’t know why, but you did know that you were made to love Quinn Hughes alongside all of the other things you were made for.

Love was real. And you can’t live without it. And you’re so glad that you learned that.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #quinn hughes reader insert #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fanfiction

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holy-puckslibrary · 5 months

Text

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

────────────

“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

────────────

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lnfours · 11 months

Text

sideline (one) | t.h

summary -> tom holland: the name thats always floating around campus, and for good reason. he’s the captain of the hockey team, he’s good looking, and he’s always caught up in an off and on again relationship with the president of the sorority. that’s where you come in. you two had made a deal to make your exes jealous, but we all know how fake relationships end.

wc -> an introductory 3.1k :)

warnings -> mentions of being cheated on, drinking, and language.

🎵 spotify playlist | 📖 prev/next chapter | 📂 masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

summer had gone by in a blink of an eye, and before you knew it, it was fall. the start of junior year, the second to last year of your college education. the year where almost everyone starts to realize ‘oh, this shit is real’ and really whip themselves into shape.

you had gotten back to your off campus house before your two other roommates. you had met the two other girls you now call best friends during your freshman year. there was sarah, who was your roommate your first year, and mia, who was your neighbor in the dorms.

you enjoyed being the first one to the house. you could move in your stuff peacefully without having the other girl’s stuff in the way. plus, you could play music as loud as you wanted to. that is, with the exception of the open window and the other students looking up towards your room whenever they walked by.

and of course, just like it was last year, once the others girls arrived: chaos ensued.

“oh my god, the hockey team is throwing a party tonight,” mia practically yelled from the kitchen, “we have to go!”

mia was the wild child, the party animal out of the three of you. sarah was a lot more like you, someone who would rather stay at home and watch a good movie than go out to a party. however, over the past couple semesters, mia has gotten you more out of your shell.

which she may or may not take a little for granted on some occasions.

you shook your head, “hell no.”

“why not?” she frowned. you rolled your eyes.

“because if the hockey team is throwing a party then you know, about 99.9% of the time, taylor and her posse are gonna be there.”

taylor harrison, the president of the sorority and the literal definition of daddy’s money. she's the type of girl who gets what she wants when she wants it, and if she doesn't then all hell brakes loose.

it didn't help that she was the girl every guy had their eye on. the girl, that for some reason, every girl wanted to be approved by her and be her friend. you couldn't understand why someone would want to get sucked into her toxic, little circle.

“besides,” you shrugged, “jack and i have plans.”

the two other girls sent you playful looks, “plans?”

“oh, shut up.”

jack had been your boyfriend since the beginning of last year. the two of you were in the same class, he sat next to you and the rest is history. it was cliche and something that happens to everyone, but you could tell that it was different with him.

“well then,” mia sighed, looking over at sarah, “i guess you’re forced into going to the party this time.”

sarah groaned, “seriously? there’s a new episode of drag race i need to watch.”

mia gave her a look, “i’ll buy you coffee for a week.”

sarah rolled her eyes before looking back over at you, watching as you slowly backed away from the conversation, “you owe me.”

you laughed, hand on the knob to the front door, “sorry! gotta go!”

you quickly left the house before you were convinced to skip out on jack and go to the party too. you made your way towards the campus apartment buildings, giving small smiles to a couple of the familiar faces that passed you. you had made your way through the group of people in the quad, going inside the building and heading for the stairs.

you reached his apartment door and knocked, but there was no answer. you waited a couple seconds as you heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

you knocked again, “jack?”

with no answer yet again, you reached for the door knob and turned it slowly, but you wish you hadn’t. you watched as a red headed girl held her shirt up, covering her chest and as jack froze in place in front of the door, shirtless with hickeys littering his collarbone.

you didn't know what to say, or how to react as the girl turned around and put her shirt on.

“y/n, baby, this isn’t what it looks like-“

you cut him off with a hard slap across his face. the red headed girl gasped quietly. you sent her a look.

“don’t you have somewhere to be?”

she gathered her things quickly before talking to jack before she pushed past you, “i’ll call you?”

he didn’t answer her, just stood there looking at you. you watched her leave as she quickly made her way towards the staircase at the end of the hall, disappearing behind other people.

“how could you?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears threatened to spill over your eyes.

“i’m sorry-“

“don't,” you mumbled, “we’re done.”

he watched as you turned away from him, walking towards the stairs. you ignored his calls to come back as tears spilled out of your eyes and onto the tile of the hallway.

you took out your phone, sending a text to the groupchat with mia and sarah.

y/n change of plans, not going to jacks. you guys at the party yet?

sarah unfortunately what happened with jack?

y/n ill explain when i get there

mia YAY Y/NS COMING TO THE PARTY!!!

you locked your phone, shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans as you made your way towards the house party. most of the guys on the hockey team had done the same thing as you and your friends, they had decided to share a house off campus. it was the hotspot for all the parties and they were known to throw the best of them.

you walked up the path, people sitting outside with drinks in their hands as music boomed from inside the house. you made your way through the door, looking for sarah and mia, but they were nowhere to be found.

you sighed, making your way to the kitchen instead. you went through the different alcohols and mixed up some kind of concoction into your cup, gulping it down before reaching for another alcohol. you poured a heavy amount, someone walking into the kitchen and coming up next to you, grabbing a can of soda.

“damn, rough day?”

you instantly knew that accent. tom holland. the captain of the hockey team, the hottest guy on campus.

and taylor harrington’s boyfriend. or ex boyfriend. it really depended on how she felt that day.

“you could say that.”

he watched as you mixed the vodka with a can of soda. you didn’t tense at his gaze, didn’t immediately want to keep his interest. but something about you made his eyes linger a little longer than he would’ve done with anyone else.

“you alright?” he asked, still watching as you sipped the drink from your cup. you made eye contact this time, nodding as you swallowed.

“not really, but it’s not like you necessarily care, right?”

you didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but you really didn’t want to deal with taylor’s bitching if she saw you talking to tom. you were pretty sure that if she were to say something to you right now, you’d rip the overpriced extensions out of her bleach blonde head.

“i mean if you’re upset about something, i think it’s best if you talk about it. especially ‘cause it looks like you’ve been crying.”

why's he so nice?

“and what? talk to you about my problems? no thanks.”

he shrugged, leaning against the counter, “can’t say i didn’t try.”

you took another sip before looking back at him. you didn’t mean for your eyes to linger around his jawline, but god he was hot. any girl, or guy, would say the same thing. he was easy on the eyes, extremely good at his sport and he got near perfect grades. he literally checked all the boxes.

that’s when you noticed something was missing, “where’s your barbie girlfriend and her minions?”

he laughed, “not a clue, could care less to be honest with you.”

you raised an eyebrow, “what? did she break up with you for the 30th time today because you didn’t get her a chanel bag?”

he smiled, “nah, i broke up with her. caught her sleeping with this other guy.”

your eyes widened, mentally cursing yourself for being such a dick, “oh, uhm- i’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay-“

“it’s not, because i know what it feels like,” you said, your eyes meeting his brown ones, “it sucks.”

“how long ago, if you don’t mind me asking?”

you looked down at your phone, glancing at the time, “about forty-five minutes ago.”

his eyes widened softly, “shit, i’m sorry.”

you shrugged, “what can you do, right?”

he nodded, “suppose you’re right.”

it was quiet for a couple seconds before he spoke up again, “is there a part of you that kinda wants them to be jealous? like see you with someone else and be like ‘damn, i shouldn’t have fucked that up’? or is it just me?”

you thought about it for a second. thought about the look on jack’s face if he were to see you with someone else, if he would even react. you thought about rubbing it into his face that you found someone better, someone who would never betray your trust.

“yeah,” you nodded, “now that you mention it.”

your conversion was interrupted when mia and sarah made their way into the kitchen, “y/n! there you are!”

you smiled at sarah, clearly seeing a very drunk mia.

“hey,” sarah said, “so what happened with jack?”

“it’s a long story, i’ll explain later,” you said, grabbing the bottle of tequila out of mia’s hands, “let’s put that down, yeah?”

“but ‘m not even drunk!” you were surprised you were able to make out the sentence from how slurred her words were.

you chuckled, “trust me, you are,” you looked over at sarah, “we should head back to the house.”

she nodded back at you, agreeing. tom spoke up once again, “hey, i could give you guys a ride back to your house.”

you waved him off, smiling politely, “no, it’s okay. it’s not that far of a walk.”

“no, no, i insist,” he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket, “just tell me how to get there.”

you looked at him, “you’re sober?”

“yeah,” he said, “i don’t really drink.”

you nodded to him, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. you let sarah and mia walk in front of you, tom on your left. he walked up to a group of guys that you assumed to be his house and teammates.

“hey, i’ll be back in a little.”

“sounds good, man.”

he nodded towards the door, placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. as you pushed through with tom following behind, you noticed the looks that got thrown your way.

of course everyone’s eyes were on you, you were walking with tom holland, who had his hand on your back. of course it looked a little bit conspicuous to anyone who was watching.

once you were outside, he unlocked the audi that was sitting in the driveway, mia and sarah filing into the backseat as you climbed into the passenger side.

“so, where to, ladies?”

“we’re on lincoln, in one of the off campus houses.” sarah said, letting mia lean her head on her shoulder.

he nodded, putting the car in reverse. the music softly playing from the speakers as you found yourself staring out the window, losing yourself in thought as tom made small conversation with sarah in the back.

“hey,” his voice directed towards you as it pulled you out of your train of thought, “you alright?”

you looked over at him, sending him a tight lipped smile and a nod, “yeah.”

“you sure?” he looked back over at you before looking at the road in front of him, “you’re not a very good liar.”

you sighed, “just thinking about what you mentioned earlier, you know the whole ‘making my shitty ex jealous’ thing.”

he nodded, “yeah, it’s just the coming up with something that would bother them that’s the hard part.”

you nodded in agreement, looking back out the window. you started thinking of ways that you could make it look like you were doing so much better than jack, something that would instantly make him regret cheating on you.

that’s when it hit you.

“a fake relationship!” you said, tom’s attention turning back to you.

his eyebrows were furrowed, “what?”

“you know, get into a fake relationship with someone. you go out and pretend that the two of you are dating, the other person would obviously know it’s fake, and the both of you could benefit from the ‘relationship’. the best thing about it is that no one else would know you're not together, only the two of you.”

he nodded, “doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“of course it doesn’t, because i came up with it,” you smirked, “and i’m the mastermind.”

he let out a chuckle as you pointed to your house, telling him he could just pull up in front of it. he did as you had asked, pulling in front of the house and unlocking the doors so the three of you could get out.

“thanks for the ride, tom!” sarah smiled, helping mia out of the car as she led her towards the house.

“anytime.”

you watched your roommates from where you were standing by the open car door. once you saw they were inside, you looked back at him.

“thanks for letting me vent,” you smiled, “and for the ride, too,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your hair as the wind softly blew it in front of your face, "you know, she really ruined your reputation."

he smiled from the drivers side, “i’ve heard that more than you think.”

you smiled back, “thanks again.”

“always.”

you closed the door to the car softly, making your way to the front door. you had noticed he stayed in the car, making sure you made it to the door okay. you sent him a small wave as you closed the door, locking it and turning off the outside light.

you leaned up against the wooden frame, looking back at your grinning roommates, “what?”

“tom freaking holland just drove us home because of you!” mia said, “how did that even happen?!”

you rolled your eyes, “nothing happened. nothings happening, okay? we’re just in the same situation.”

“oh, yeah,” sarah said as you made your way into the kitchen, “what happened with jack?”

you took a deep breath as you grabbed a water bottle, the two girls anxiously waiting for you to tell them why you were so upset.

“i uh, i went over to his apartment and he was fucking another girl,” you said, both of their mouths dropping open, “and i broke up with him.”

“i’m so sorry,” mia said, “he didn’t deserve you.”

“what a dick!” sarah rolled her eyes, both of the girls walking over and wrapping you in a group hug, “we love you.”

you smiled, “i love you guys.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“what, so are they broken up or are they dating still?” you asked, watching whatever reality show sarah had put on the living room tv. she shrugged her shoulders.

“not really sure.”

“if i was her, i’d break up with him.” mia said from her side of the couch. sarah nodded her head, pointing at her as a silent way of saying she made a point.

there was a knock on the door, pulling all of you away from the show. you got up from your seat, putting your drink down, “i got it.”

you walked over to the front door, unlocking it as you peeked open the door. you opened it the rest of the way as you smiled at the brunette boy in front of you.

“stalker much?” you joked and he let out a soft laugh.

“hello to you, too,” he joked back at you, “do you have a minute? i uh... have to talk to you about something.”

you nodded, letting him inside the house. sarah and mia watched from the living room, eyebrows raised as you shut the door.

“hey, tom!”

he smiled back at the girls in the living room, sending them a small wave as they sent you a look. you waved your hand in front of your neck, telling them to cut it out.

“we’re going upstairs.” you grabbed tom’s arm, pulling him away from the looks your friends were sending. he followed you up the wooden steps and into your room. he looked around at your room as you closed the door.

you sat cris-cross on the bed, waving towards the desk chair and the bed, “you can sit wherever.”

he nodded, opting for the desk chair, “thanks.”

you sent him a soft smile, “so, what’s up?”

“so, i’ve been thinking about what you said in the car last night, the whole ‘fake dating’ thing,” he started, taking a pause to make sure you understood what he was talking about. when you nodded, he continued, “what if we 'fake-dated' each other? i mean, i know it’s kind of crazy beings we barely know each other, but you said it’s better to choose someone who knows it’s fake and someone who could also benefit from it. plus, you said you wanted to make your ex jealous too. you check all of the boxes.”

you raised an eyebrow, “i… i uh-“

“i know, i'm sorry to just kind of throw it all onto you at once, but i’ve been thinking about it since last night. i mean, you are the mastermind, right?” he smirked and you rolled your eyes playfully.

at the end of the day, how bad could it be?

“what if i say no?”

he was silent for a second, “i didn’t really think you’d be opposed.”

you let out a sigh, why am i doing this?

“okay, fine, you have a deal,” you extended your hand out for him to shake, when he reached for it, you pulled your hand back. he shot you a confused look.

“however, we’re doing it by my rules.”

he shook your hand, “deal.”

you pointed to the notepad and the pen on your desk, “can you hand me that, please?”

he nodded, grabbing the paper and pen off the desk. you turned to a blank page, writing at the top of the page.

fake dating rules:

“okay, number one,” you said, tapping the pen against the notebook as you thought about the first rule. when it came to your mind, you immediately started writing it down, “no strings attached. this is simply just to get back at our shitty exes.”

he nodded, “oh, you have to come to my games and the hockey team parties. gotta make it look like you’re an actual supportive girlfriend.”

"the games i'm alright with, but the parties?" you scrunched your face up. he gave you a look, but softened when he came to an agreement.

"okay, not all of them, but most of them."

you rolled your eyes, "fine."

you wrote down what he said as rule number two, “anything else?”

“one ‘date’ per week. we get to know more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious to anyone we talk to about our ‘relationship’.”

you wrote it down, adding the last rule in all capital letters and underlined it, “no one knows it’s a fake relationship. absolutely no one.”

he nodded in agreement, watching as you made makeshift signature lines. you passed him the notebook as he let out a soft laugh, taking the pen from your grip. he signed on his line, your signature going next to his.

“so it’s settled, girlfriend.” you smiled, “it’s settled, boyfriend.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo, jordan

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cellythefloshie · 3 months

Text

;; Tainted Love 500 Follower Celebration

Summary: The stars seem to align for the first time when you and Ross Colton meet up for drinks while the Colorado Avalanche are in town. But it's a dangerous game you're playing because the spark is still there and is hard to ignore even with the both of you being spoken for. Kinks & Tropes: CHEATING (putting this in all caps because I want to make sure it's clear. It is a very prominent theme in this fic), alcohol consumption, car sex, unprotected sex, no forms of contraception used, pull-out method, dirty talk Word Count: 4.5k+

I've got to get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.

The cold, caught somewhere between a fall and winter wind, reddened your cheeks more than blush ever could. It stung as you walked through the quiet streets; you head down and the collar of your jacket popped in a desperate attempt to stay home. It was late, the only life seen in the bars and restaurants on either side of you as you passed. The streets were empty, the bustle of traffic long forgotten. The only vehicle was a single cab picking up patrons or dropping them off. There were still four hours until closing time.

This, usually, was late enough for you to crawl into bed. You'd throw on a Netflix show, or listen to an audio book until you fell asleep. But you made plans. With your boyfriend out of town, you shouldn't have, but you did.

You felt like you had to, because this might have been the only opportunity you had to see Ross.

In town for one night only, and with his curfew broadened just because they had granted him more time to spend with his family, you couldn't say no. You never had said no to him either. The two of you shared a connection like you couldn't describe. Ever since you had first met on a dating app after one casual swipe in the right direction, you had clicked.

And even after the first date didn't work out, the encounter lasted no more than 5 minutes. You still kept in touch. You would get the occasional check in text. But beyond that, the two of you had gone your separate ways.

You had your boyfriend, and months later he had his girl. And your respective relationships remained unbroken, fully committed. But in time, even after months of not speaking to one another, you always ended up in each other's messages. Just to catch up, nothing more, always innocent - or at least, that was what you told yourselves.

And that's what meeting up in a bar you'd never been to would be. Just catching up over a drink. Nothing more.

That was what you told yourself when you stopped at the front door, her head tipping back to look up at the dimly lit sign. Your body quivered with a shaky breath.

Nerves? No. Ross never made you nervous.

You knew what you were feeling, but you couldn't admit it to yourself. It was wrong. Yet, you did it anyway.

You were greeted with a gust of warmth, a smile spreading over your face as you entered the busy bar. Bodies crowded around the bar top, music blared, and each television was broadcasting one sports event or another.

Finding a table near the back, the broadcast talking about tomorrow's Devil's game was a welcome distraction. You watched it as you draped your jacket over the back of your chair, and as you glanced over the menu, you had pulled up on your phone with the help of the QR code stuck on the tabletop. It was a distraction more than anything. You almost always ordered the same drink, no matter where you went. You just wanted to look busy until Ross arrived.

He announced his arrival discretely to not draw the attention of the surrounding people. He did it simply by speaking your name as his hand caressed over the small of your back in a featherlight touch.

Your smile was too wide as you answered him, “Ross.”

Without thought, you stood up from your seat and threw your arms around him in a brief embrace. And he returned it, the strength of his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And for a moment, the two of you just stood there - just long enough to enjoy his embrace, but not long enough for it to be awkward. Then, your limbs fell away from him so naturally as you perched yourself back up on your chair.

From there, you admired him as he rounded the table to sit across from you. Ross was over dressed in every sense of the word. He wore a white button down, your eyes drawn to the black buttons that trailed down his chest, and he shrugged off his sports coat, the color one you couldn't quite make out under the dim multi-color lights of what you deemed a dive bar.

He draped the coat over the back of his chair, and his eyes that were bright with his smile found you.

“I'm a bit over dressed, huh?” His question laced with a chuckle as he sat.

You nodded. “Just a bit.”

“Just came from dinner with the family,” he explained, as if you needed one. You weren't going to complain. He looked good in a suit. There were worse things you could get stuck looking at.

“How was it? They must have been excited to see you.”

And that was how the conversation began. So effortlessly, so naturally, as you moved from one topic to the next. His family, yours, how he had settled into Colorado, his girlfriend, your boyfriend. You talked about it all over a drink that quickly led to two.

Once you finished sucking back nothing more than melted ice cubes from the bottom of your glass, you were cursing yourself for being such a lightweight. You could feel the buzz of alcohol coursing through you. The jitters in your hands, and the racing of your heart in your chest. One drink more and your brain would have fogged, but there wouldn't be another.

It was late, and Ross was already asking for the bill.

He paid it in full.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that,” you said as you stood up from your seat. Thankfully, you didn't waver on your feet.

“You can cover it next time,” he said in such a way you believed him.

But you knew there wouldn't be a next time. He would be flying back to Colorado after the game, and he had a girlfriend. You had a boyfriend. It couldn't happen again. It shouldn't.

Together, you shrugged on your coats in the first awkward silence of the evening. Was this where you should say goodbye? Should you let him go on ahead and order yourself some water?

“Let me walk you to your car?” Ross’ voice cut through the silence. He had made up your mind for you.

You nodded. “Yeah, sure. That'd be great.”

Keeping your head down, you left the bar together. Ross’ frame leading the way through the crowd that was now dwindling. It would be closing time soon.

Stepping out into the cold air, you took in a sharp exhale. Its harshness almost left you light headed - or maybe that was the alcohol.

You should have drunk some water.

“I'm parked just up this way,” you told him and began the walk along the sidewalk with a casual stride.

You walked together, your arms bumping up against one another with each casual stride. The contact left a soft smile on your lips, your gaze rising to look at him out of the corner of your eye. His hands had dipped into his pockets, and his collar popped to keep himself from the cold. And you stared for a moment, admiring how the city light reflected off his features. And how it ignited his too-perfect smile when he caught you staring.

“You look amazing tonight,” his voice cut through the silent street, sending goosebumps to rise on your skin.

Your smile tugged a little tighter at your cheeks.

He shouldn't be giving you a compliment like that. You shouldn't have liked hearing them. But you didn't stop them.

“Thanks, but I feel a little underdressed.”

Ross’ smile split wider, and a laugh erupted from his lips as he threw his head back. It was a laugh so comforting, so familiar, that it warmed your entire body as you came to stand in the empty parking lot where your vehicle sat alone.

“This is me,” you gestured to the mid size SUV with the lazy sway of your arm.

“Well,” he sighed out almost hesitantly, “it was really nice seeing you-”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, smiles on your faces and your eyes fixated on one another. Unmoving. Not quite wanting to leave.

Then, he was stepping forward, his arms encasing you in his embraces, and your arms winding around him in return. Your cheek rested against his chest, his warmth radiating to you as he held you. You stood there, your eyes shutting for a moment as you relished in the feeling of him. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your body. The feeling of his hands on your back, and one dipping down. Down to where your ass peeked out from the edge of your jacket. There he gave it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel his gentle exhale as your own was trapped in your own chest.

He shouldn't have touched you like that.

You shouldn't have let him.

And you shouldn't have liked it.

Drawing back slowly, you tilted your head back to look up at him. And Ross was looking back down at you. His bright eyes were half closed in a dreamy gaze and the corners of his smile had gone soft, leaving his lips slightly parted as he let out each exhale.

It washed over your face in a blossom of heat, and smelt of the sweet alcohol on his tongue. Ross’ face was so close to yours you could practically taste it–no, you just wanted to.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you muttered out a quiet goodbye, your limbs not ready to recoil away from his body yet.

“You should come, I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his words a breath into your hair that ignited your skin as he spoke.

“I might take you up on it,” you told him, but you wouldn't.

“I'll see you soon,” Ross sighed, his words igniting your skin as he spoke.

Yeah, sure you will. Was what you wanted to say. To mock him with those words and a hint of a laugh. Because you knew how this would go. You would go home tonight, and Ross would go back to the hotel room. He would ask if you made it home safe, and you would answer. But then you wouldn't hear from him for days, weeks, maybe months until you crossed his mind again, or he was left with the lonely opportunity to message you.

Instead, you said nothing, and you smiled a soft, tired smile.

It was then his hands fell away from you, his touch trailed down your curves, ghosting over the peaks of your hips before you were void of his touch, his warmth, and left numb by his absence.

So suddenly you felt cold, empty as you stood there in the parking lot. Your head spun, your eyes shutting tight as you tried to process a single thought. But there, as you sought for reason, for logic, there was only action.

Your arm lurched out before you could stop it, and your hand found what it was looking for as fingers wrapped around Ross’ wrist and dragged down to coast over his palm. Your fingers traced over each crease slowly until you could feel his fingers so close to slipping away, but then his hand captured your hand in return.

The sudden grasp of your hands together had his body recoiling into your own. There was a moment of tension in your arms before Ross stepped back into his place in front of you. Then, he took another step, forcing you to step back again and again until you were trapped between his body and your car door. He didn’t say a word, and neither did you. You didn’t have to. You could see all of what he wanted to say in the look of his eyes and how they searched yours so desperately for what you wanted from him.

But what was it that you wanted?

You said your goodbyes, yet it didn’t feel like enough. It never did, and that was probably why you so desperately clung to any kind of relationship with him. To fill and satisfy a void your boyfriend left in you, but also in hope that one day have the satisfaction of being with him the way you always thought you might but never could be.

You had always run to Ross in a sense, especially during hardships. He knew you better than most, and he knew more of your secrets than anyone - and you were the same for him. Through tears and through laughter, the love you shared was unique. Unlike any other. Tainted. So close to friendship, but there would always be more.

And for the first time, it truly felt like you could finally cross those lines together. With his girlfriend back in Colorado, and your boyfriend away on business, it almost felt like fate that the two of you were left alone in New Jersey together.

His girlfriend didn’t know you existed, but you knew about her.

Your boyfriend didn’t know he existed, but Ross knew about him.

The two of you knew every little detail of each other's lives with your partners and helped each other through problems in your relationships that no one else seemed to understand. And it all seemed to be for nothing as you stood there in the night just waiting, hoping that he would kiss you.

You held your breath as Ross’ hand came up to stroke over your cheek. His touch was so warm, so gentle, that it left your every thought melting from your brain. You held no worry, only anticipation that coiled in the depths of your stomach and left your limbs to tremble. All you could focus on was his fingertips and how they traced every angle of your cheek, down over your jaw, and finally to your lips that quivered with an uneven breath.

It left your chest aching as you held the softened gaze of his eyes as they moved in as he closed the distance between you. You managed a single jagged breath before it was stolen from you, the warmth of his mouth all consuming as the kiss started in what was the careful brush of his lips against your own.

Then, it was like a dam broke.

There was no innocence in how Ross kissed you. His teeth moved hungrily against you, mouth open, and tongues gliding along one another before teeth clashed and desperate inhales were taken before you both dove further into self indulgence. It left you dizzy, your body pressed firmly back into the dirty door of your car. There, Ross knocked your legs just a single step apart and wedged a single leg between yours. You could feel him against the inside of each of your thighs, and so close to their apex. With just the single tilt of your hips, you could have ground yourself against him. Instead, you fumbled in your coat pockets for your keys.

Your fingers moved over the buttons blindly in your pocket, moving over one button and then the other until the lights flickered and you heard the locks disengage. The loud thud was like the gunshot at the beginning of a race. You couldn’t move your hands fast enough, and neither could he as you both reached for the same door handle, his hand gripped your, gripping it and pulling open. It sent you stumbling away from the door and into his body that helped you into the backseat of your car.

It was a spacious SUV. One you had slept in the back seat of on a road trip years ago. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was what you had, so it would do. You crawled up the length of the bench seats, giving Ross room to climb in behind you - but there was no space left between you when you heard the door shut firmly behind him.

His hands were quick to find your body, his grasp so firm on your hips to draw you back into him. Your bodies were a knotted mess as you tried to get situated in the back, the driver’s side seat digging into your front, then your side, and finally your back as you threw your leg over his to straddle him. With his warmth back between your thighs, you stripped off your coat to try to ignore just how hot he made you. Tossing it aside, your hands were freed to explore. Your hands found his body, your touch stroking over the angles of his own face as you kissed him, tasted him.

You were sure you had kissed him once before, but it had been so long you had forgotten the taste he left on your tongue. It was intoxicating, coaxing a moan up your lips as your hands found their place to rest knotted in the dark wisps of his hair. You toyed with the locks that would threaten to curl if they were only a little longer, as his hands trailed down the curves of your body. Ross caressed just under your breast, his thumb curiously reaching up and grazed just shy of your pert nipple that was pressing into the inside of your bra with the desperation of wanting to be touched. Then, his hands dipped lower over the circle of your waist, the rushed movement wrinkling the fabric, leaving the small of your back exposed.

Touching your skin was like adding gasoline to an already raging fire. It sent Ross’ lips wandering from yours as his fingers stroked your soft, exposed flesh. His kiss traveled down over your chin, tickled your neck, and found your collarbone with a playful nip. It sent your heart racing.

He knew you would like that.

But you had to be careful.

“No marks,” you breathed out, your eyes shutting as you tried to ignore why that had to be.

“Yeah,” he breathed out quickly, “yeah, got it.”

With your exchange, it brought you both to a pause. Your chests heaved for breath, and your eyes seemed to look at everything except at each other. A decision needed to be made. You could stop before things could get any more complicated, or Ross could take off your shirt as he so desperately seemed to want to as his hand dragged along its delicate hem.

You bit your lower lip firmly as you tried to look out the already fogged window. You could see the rainbow of colors that were the city lights shining through each drip of condensation. Focusing on a single droplet, you followed it down to the edge of the window and took a breath that escaped you with a sigh.

You knew what you wanted to do, but before you could say anything, Ross’ voice filled the air, “We don’t have to-”

Your head snapped to look in his direction. “You don’t want to?”

“That’s not what I'm saying,” he answered slowly, his teeth biting his own lip as his eyes fixated on yours.

You knew what he was getting at. You were nervous, hesitant, but you knew you wanted this. You just needed the assurance that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

“Ross…” you breathed out his name. It was the very beginning of the thought that threatened the very tip of your tongue, and that was left strangled in your throat as you felt Ross grip the swells of your hips.

He held you firm in each hand, and with that hold, he guided you back and forth over his lap. Your hips angled instantly, grinding your needy core over the expense of his lap. You moved to and fro with his moments, and quivered at the feeling of his stiff cock beneath the thick seam of your jeans.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his words slow and clear. He knew what he wanted, but he needed to hear it from you, too. Ross needed you to make the decision on your own, and to hear it from your own lips, even if he had already made up his mind for himself.

“I-” you gasped out, your heart beating up into your ears like drums. It pulsed through your body, right through to your core that throbbed against the stiff outline of his cock.

You should have told him to stop.

You should have pulled your coat back on and sent him on his way.

But you didn’t.

“Don’t you dare,” you answered him after a moment, your voice stern, “just,” you took in a long inhale, “let’s be quick - unbutton your pants.”

Your bodies strained in the tight place as you both fought close quarters to undo your pants. You leaned back against the driver's seat to try to get the angle just right to work your jeans down, while Ross pressed down onto his heels and lifted his hips up high to work his hands just low enough for his cock to spring free.

And while his pants rested around his knees, and that’s all he needed to do to be ready for you, you struggled. You let out a frustrated huff as the head of the driver’s seat dug into your back, and your arms fought the tight denim down your hips. The awkwardness left you slipping. Ross’ hand was quick to catch you before you could fall awkwardly onto him and his stiff cock that was so exposed, hard and ready for you to take him.

“I got it,” Ross’ words were a rushed promise, his hands gripping the fabric and pulling them down your legs until they rested on the floor of the car with your shoes - but your panties they remained. You watched as Ross admired them for a moment. The simple pale colored lace that looked gray in the darkness.

Your core clenched as his finger toyed with them, pushing and tugging at the fabric as he lured you back in close to him. And when you were a mere breath away, his finger dipped beneath the fabric and dragged along your slick core, if only just to tease you as he pulled the damned fabric to the side.

“I wish I could enjoy you, the way you deserve to be enjoyed,” Ross hummed out, his hand guiding you forward to hover above the very tip of his cock.

You nearly quivered at his words. Many times, he had told you how he would fuck you. How he would enjoy tasting your sweet cunt on his tongue before leaving you moaning as you took his cock like the slut girl you were. But there was no time for those luxuries.

Angling yourself over his cock, you took hold of it in your cold hand carefully. The hiss that left his lips left your grinning, but it was him that was left with the last laugh as he thrust up into your wet cunt, leaving you overtaken by a pathetic whimper that came with the feeling of taking his cock inside you for the very first time.

“You like that?” Ross asked you in a whisper, his hands remaining firm on your hips to guide him along his cock with the slow roll of your hips.

You nodded feebly, your mouth opening to tell him just how good his cock felt, only to unleash a moan instead.

“Look at you,” his grin grew, “so pretty as you take my cock, and taking it so well you don’t even have the words to tell me - and you’ve always been so good with your words,” he purred, “such a shame really.”

Ross reached up with his hand, his fingers stroking over your lips as you were left on the verge of another moan. One you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having just yet.

“I like when you tell me what a dirty slut you are,” his thumb tugged at your lower lip playfully as he thrust up hard into your cunt, coaxing that moan you had choked back into the depth of your throat, “but you sure do have a pretty moan.”

Your core clenched around his cock at the compliment, your hands lurching forward to grip at the leather head rest behind him.

“Shut up,” you spoke through grit teeth.

“Oh?” he raised a brow up, his heels digging into the floor again and thrusting so deep your body couldn’t physically take him any further. “You don’t like when I talk dirty to you?”

Your core clenched again, then you gasped, “no, I-”

You moaned again, your entire body reverberating with the sound.

“You’re so close, I can fucking feel how desperate you are on my cock.” Ross didn’t bite his tongue. He liked to see you so close to the verge of pleasure, practically melting in front of him, and your cunt flexing around him.

With weak legs, you met every single thrust, but it wasn’t enough. Not for him and not for you, either.

Ross gripped the fleas of your ass firm in both hands and used it as leverage as he lifted you up and guided you to lay out on the leather seats all without leaving the warm wet embrace of your cunt. With you sprawled out, Ross gripped your hips and guided your legs to wrap around his hips just right. Every thrust made you tingle, made you moan, and soon your toes were curling, your body near recoiling with pleasure. Yet, he thrust through each wave, through every flex of your core, sending his eyes rolling back in his own pleasure.

“I’m close,” he choked out, your heart suddenly racing with panic.

“Pull out,” you told him, voice stern, “I’m not, fuck I’m not on the pill. Pull out.”

“What?” he seemed shocked, his cock still buried deep inside you for a thrust, then another before he pulled out and found the warm embrace of his own hand.

You lay there, panting, legs still quivering, as he worked himself through his climax. His face softened, his body arching over you as he painted the inside of your thighs and the leather seats with his cum.

“Should have given me a heads up,” he panted out after a moment.

“Would it have changed anything?” You countered.

His head shook, “no, but I would have gotten you to suck me off or something-”

“You wish,” you shoved him playfully, “now, get your pants back on.”

Ross settled back into the seat the two of you had started in, but you remained laying there for a moment. You were seeing stars as you stared up at the ceiling, your one hand dipping between your legs and swiping over your cunt to make sure there had been no accidents before you put your panties back into place. Then, each of your moments had to be deliberate. The cum on the inside of your thighs had already begun to dry, but the cum on the seats was still hot and sticky. You couldn’t risk getting it on any of your clothes. It would have to be something you had to clean up before you got home, but first, you had to say your goodbyes.

You pulled your pants up slowly in silence, then your shoes before you heard the door open and the cold night air infiltrated the car. It sent a shiver coursing through you, your hands desperately reaching for your coat as you slipped out of the car behind him.

“Are you good to drive home?” Ross asked slowly, his hands in his pocket.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Message me when you get in?”

You looked to your empty driver seat, “yeah, just-” you sighed gently knowing you would be going back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend even if it was empty for the next week, “don’t be surprised if you’re blocked in the morning when you try to message me.”

Ross’ feature faltered into a frown. “Regretting me already?”

Your heart sank. You didn’t know how to feel, or how you would feel in the morning when you had the night to fully comprehend the choices you had made.

“Regret you? Nah, never.” You gave him a reassuring smile as you stepped in, your hands on his chest as you pressed up to give him a goodnight kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, one that had you pulling back like the gentle rise and fall of waves until he pulled you back in with both hands and kissed you deeply, making sure that you left with the taste of him on your lips.

Then, you got into the driver's seat of your car, and brought the engine to life with the turn of your key. It reeked of sex, of cum, but it was nothing a good wash and a new air freshener couldn’t mask - but even then as you sat there, your eyes fixed on Ross as he stood there in the parking lot, watching you leave, you barely noticed the smell. No, the heavy feeling in your chest was too distracting. This time really felt like a goodbye. And not just a goodbye for now, but a goodbye forever.

#ross colton #ross colton fanfic #colorado avalanche #hockey rpf #hockey smut #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #fanfic #hockey imagines #;;500 #reader insert #ross colon x reader

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spnhunter4life · 3 months

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Winchester's Girl

A Dean hockey AU. I went to a game with my coworkers last night and came up with this idea. However, since I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of the sport to write out a full-fledged fic for this, have a bullet pointed summary of what I came up with. (What would this be called? An imagine maybe? I feel like I've seen posts similar to this called imagines.)

A/N: Ok, so this turned out to be longer than I anticipated (imagine that). This is a bit more actual story and less summary than I expected when I started this. I still think it fits better in this format though, because it's easier to skip around where I want and not put the effort into combining it all together somehow. Also, just a heads up, this is tagged friends to lovers because I think that's the best way to describe it. I also think the lovers part tends to imply that there will be smut, but that is not the case here.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

You and Dean have been friends for so long, you can barely even remember life without him. You met in eighth grade when your family moved to Kansas and immediately clicked. You had a lot in common, but you especially bonded over your shared love of hockey. You were there to be proud and support him as he transitioned from the local high school team to the college team, and then again when he made it to a professional team. Nothing made you more proud or excited than hearing that he had become center for the Kansas Hunters.

All the guys on the team knew you. You were even pretty good friends with a few of them. Since you attended more of his games than you might care to admit and had even been known to attend a practice or two if you and Dean had plans after, the rest of the guys jokingly referred to you as Winchester's girl.

"Hey, Winchester! Your girl is here!" They would call out to him when they spotted you entering the building on practice days. It was Benny who said it the first time, and it just sort of caught on from there.

"Who is that girl?" Cas's new girlfriend asked one night, spotting you at a party following a big win. "I think I've seen her at every single one of your games." Cas barely even needed to glance in your direction to know who she was talking about. "Who, Y/n? That's just Winchester's girl."

A couple years ago, during the off season, Dean decided it was time to take you skating. Despite being a lifelong hockey fan, you'd never actually learned to skate. You were a little nervous about falling over a lot and making a fool out of yourself, but mostly you were excited. You loved watching Dean on the ice, the speed and ease with which he moved. It was like he was flying. You wanted to be able to experience that freedom for yourself.

Despite his laughter and teasing -- "How can someone who spends so much time at a hockey rink be so terrible at skating?" -- he was a very good teacher. He had endless patience and was familiar with the way you learned which made it easy for him to pass on the secret knowledge of how to balance on two blades in a way you quickly understood.

By the end of the first lesson, you were a little bruised from falling so many times but had also figured out how to stay upright and move around. And if you were still moving at a snail's pace as you got used to things while Dean zoomed by you, at least you were on your feet.

You and Dean have this years-long running bet of sorts. It started in high school when the two of you were in chorus together, you because you enjoyed it and wanted to be and Dean because he had to in order to get his fine arts credit -- although you suspect that no matter how much he denies it, there was a small part of him that enjoyed it. Your teacher had a requirement that at the local band/chorus contest, everyone must participate in at least one small group piece on top of the pieces you sang as a full choir. Dean pestered you for days before you finally agreed to do a duet with him. "But," you told him, "only if you score a goal within the first three minutes of the game tonight." You weren't sure why you decided to make him work for it instead of just agreeing. After all, you knew he was a decent singer and would make a good duet partner. Not to mention you enjoyed spending time with him, so working on a song together wouldn't exactly be a hardship. But you'd already offered the deal and weren't about to take it back. Of course Dean's eyes lit up at the challenge and he immediately agreed. That night, just over two minutes into the game he scored a goal. He immediately looked up, finding you in the crowd quickly since you tended to sit in the same place, and winked at you. You knew it was his way of gloating in the couple seconds he had available to do so, and you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't contain your smile.

After that it became a thing. If there was something Dean wanted from you -- something he wanted help with or something he wanted to do that he knew you'd enjoy but you were a little hesitant about (like going to homecoming with him) -- he'd use the "if I score a goal in under three minutes" challenge as a way to get it.

After a while, it evolved into more of a silly game. It became an almost every game occurrence. He still brought up big things once in a while -- "if I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to go talk to that cute guy from the library you won't shut up about" -- but it was mostly little stuff. "If I score in under three minutes tonight, I get to pick the movie we watch this weekend; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you're buying me a pizza; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to come with me to the show my friend and his horrible band are putting on. If I have to suffer through it, so do you."

You suspected that he liked the challenge of it, that he wanted to give himself a reason to really work hard. While he definitely wasn't managing to score in time every night, he managed it enough to gain a reputation for himself as an early game scorer. "Watch out for Winchester in those first few minutes of the game," you'd heard people say. "If he gets anywhere near your goal, he will score."

Just like the first time, if he won the challenge, he would find you in the stands and wink at you. In the college years, this led to the more intense fans -- particularly the young women who knew what he looked like beneath the helmet -- to speculate who he might be winking at and why. In the last couple years with the Hunters, it led to even more teasing from the guys about you being Winchester's girl.

It has been a brutal game against the Hunters' biggest rival the Leviathans. More fights have broken out than you've seen in probably the last three or four games combined. One of the Leviathans' defenders broke his wrist in the first period. The score has been neck and neck, neither team able to gain a lasting advantage over the other. There is about a minute and a half left in the game when Dean scores a goal, putting the Hunters two points ahead, the biggest gap of the whole game. The crowd cheers, none of them louder than you, you're sure.

It happens in the middle of the next play. One second Dean is flying down the ice, all fire and determination. The next, there's a collision of bodies. You don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. Until three of the bodies pull back and the fourth is left lying on the ice. You can't do anything but stare as the big black 67 of Dean's jersey stares back. Fear holds you prisoner and you can't move, watching helplessly as the coach steps onto the ice, followed soon after by an EMT. He manages to find his feet and is escorted slowly off the ice. You're on your feet in an instant, heading for the locker room where you know he'll be looked at.

You pace back and forth outside the locker room, not daring to actually go in. You know you're not allowed. So you pace, biting your fingernails as you listen to the final moments of the game and wait for some sort of news on Dean. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and you know it's only a matter of time before the rest of the team is here. Maybe then you'll get some answers.

"What are you doing back here?" A hard voice demands. You look over to see the Leviathans' coach staring you down. He must have been passing by on the way to the other locker room. "You shouldn't be here," he says, not giving you time to answer.

"I know, but-"

"Get out of here," he demands. You know he's doing the right thing. He's probably dealt with overzealous fans before that wait for players outside the locker rooms and is only defending the privacy of the opposing team. But you don't appreciate his tone, especially given the circumstances.

"She's fine," a second voice says before you can answer. You look over the coach's shoulder to see Cas standing there, the rest of the team behind him. None of them look happy.

"Novak," the coach says. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't bothered. Fans shouldn't be back here."

"You're right, they shouldn't," Benny agrees. "But that's Winchester's girl. If she wants to be here, she has every right." The nickname that at first made you blush and now makes you roll your eyes never sounded so good. It's like a badge of honor. In a way, the team sees you as family. They will defend you and let people know you belong here with them. With Dean. The coach backs off.

"Just tell me how he is," you ask, turning to Benny and Cas with pleading eyes. Of course they don't have any more idea than you do, but you just want them to go in, assess the situation, and come back to tell you what's going on.

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Benny answers. You look at him in surprise. "I can't go in there," you tell him.

"Sure you can," Kevin disagrees. "Nobody's undressed in there. You can be in and out before we've got our pads off." You wait for only a second to see if anyone will protest and when they don't, you rush inside. Your eyes zero in on Dean immediately, sitting on a bench and talking with the EMT, who turns his head at the sound of the door opening. A look of surprise crosses his face and he stands up. "Young lady, you can't-"

"Yes she can," Dean cuts him off. His eyes are looking slightly unfocused, but they are fixed on you. You hear the rest of the team file in behind you as you make your way over to Dean, slowly, like you're afraid he'll break if you move too fast. You look him over as you move. His helmet, gloves, and skates are off. He looks ok, except for the eyes. "What happened?" You ask, sitting carefully beside him. "Are you ok?"

"That depends," he responds. Fear fills you again. Is the injury that bad? "Depends on what?" You ask. On if he has surgery to fix it? On if he never plays hockey again? The horrible possibilities flood your mind.

"Did we win?" He asks. You're too stunned to answer. You replay his question in your head a few times, sure you must have misheard him. "Are you serious?" You finally ask.

"Yes, I'm serious," he responds. "Did we win?"

You let out a frustrated breath. "You were up by two with barely more than a minute left. Of course you won," you answer. "Then I'm fine," he says. You feel like you could smack him. Why must he be so difficult? Why couldn't he just answer your question.

"Dean. What happened?" You demand. You can hear the edge in your voice.

"It's just a minor concussion. It was nothing. I'll be fine," he says dismissively.

"It was not nothing," you argue.

"It's hockey," he answers, as if that is explanation enough. "People get hurt. You should be used to that by now."

Sure, you've seen lots of players injured throughout the years. You've even seen Dean injured. But it was always something minor. Bumps and bruises, a sprained wrist, a broken nose one time. It wasn't the same. "I should be used to seeing you laying flat out on the ice and not moving?" You demand. Something in your voice alerts him to the fact that you're done with the joking and avoiding.

He sighs. "What do you want from me here, sweetheart? It's over and I'm fine. There's nothing more to do about it."

His question catches you off guard. What do you want from him? For him to never play hockey again? No. That wouldn't ensure he was never hurt again, and he loves it too much. There are many reasons you could never ask that of him, not the least of which being you have no right to ask. Do you want him to assure you that he's alright? Because he's already done that. So, what then? If you're being honest with yourself, what you really want is to hold onto him for a while, and for him to hold you back while your brain works on accepting the fact that he really is ok. But you can't ask that.

Instead, you agree with him. "You're right. I'm sorry. You just really scared me out there."

"I'm sorry you were so scared," he says sincerely. "But I promise, I really am ok."

"I know," you say with a forced smile. You give his hand a squeeze before leaving the room, giving the rest of the guys the privacy they've been patiently waiting for.

It's a couple weeks after the concussion incident. Things between you and Dean have been the same as usual, except they haven't been. Not really. You can't pinpoint what it is that's different, but there's definitely something. It's New Year's Eve. You're at a party with Dean and a bunch of guys from the team. Dean has been at your side all night. You wouldn't go as far as calling it weird, but... it's definitely not usual. You've attended a lot of parties together and while you make a point of knowing where the other person is and even spending a fair amount of time together, you do usually hang out with other people too. Not that you're not hanging out with anyone else. It's just that apparently you're staying together while doing it. Not that you're complaining.

The midnight countdown is fast approaching. You're not currently dating anyone so you've resigned yourself to not having a midnight kiss this year. You don't mind. You don't really see it as the big deal a lot of people seem to. You think to yourself that Dean better find someone very quick if he plans on kissing someone though. For some reason, that thought doesn't sit quite right with you. You're not sure why. You've never cared before who Dean kissed.

The countdown starts. You watch the people around you as they scurry to be near their partners. The count reaches two and you turn to Dean, preparing to clink your beers together in celebration. The count reaches one and Dean's free hand goes to rest on your cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. When he pulls away, it leaves you breathless. The room explodes into cheers and the clinking of bottles and glasses.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask, ignoring the celebration going on around you.

"Should I not have?" He asks. It's a mild question, but there's a challenge in it. As if he's daring you. But daring you to do what?

"No, it's not- I didn't say that." You're not sure what he was hoping you'd say, but this is clearly at the very least not the wrong response. He waits for you to continue. "It's just... we've both been single on New Year's Eve before. You've never kissed me."

"It's never been right before," he shrugs. He sees your confusion and explains. "You and me, I think we've been heading in this direction for a long time. And I think everyone but us could see it. It's why the guys tease us so much. It's why there's a bunch of hockey obsessed girls out there who are insanely jealous of you even though up until now there hasn't been anything to be jealous of. I think it's why all of my girlfriends haven't liked you very much and your boyfriends have hated me."

"I wouldn't say they hated you," you protest. You're not sure why. It's probably the nerves at the implications of what he's saying. It makes you feel better to say something, unhelpful as it may be. He just gives you a look before continuing.

"I don't know if we honestly didn't know we felt this way or were just lying to ourselves about it. But you can't tell me things haven't been different between us lately. I know it's not just me." Was he right? Was that the change you've been noticing? You're not sure if you would have come to this conclusion on your own. After all, this was Dean. Steady, reliable, Dean who you've never seen as more than a friend. But now that the possibility has been brought up, now that he's kissed you, you can't deny what you're feeling.

"Things have been different," you admit. "I just..." How to finish that sentence. You just what? Never saw Dean in that way? Not untrue, but what was the point in bringing it up? Objectively you've always been able to clearly see why other girls fought tooth and nail for his attention. And now that you are looking at him that way, it is a pointless statement. You weren't expecting it? Also true, but obvious enough without having to say it.

Dean is usually good about letting you sort through your thoughts at times like this, but today he doesn't have the patience. "You just what?" He prompts. "Didn't expect the night to go like this?"

"Well no, I didn't. But that's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," you sigh, frustrated at your inability to find the words you want. You start speaking without really thinking, and thankfully the right words come to you. "I guess I just didn't realize why things were different. I noticed it, but I couldn't figure out what it was."

"And now that you know?"

You give him a little mischievous smile, feeling more confident after having some time to process. "Being just friends was getting a little boring anyway. Too predictable. I think it's about time we change things up."

Dean grins back and it lights up his face. You nearly catch your breath at the sight. Having your eyes opened to your feelings is like peeling a film off your eyes that you've lived with your entire life without knowing it's there. It's like seeing him for the first time, and he is the most stunning man you've ever seen. "Alright," he says. "Let's change it up then. If I score in under three minutes at the next game, you have to go on a date with me. Maybe you even have to kiss me."

You stop your jaw from literally dropping open, but you know he can read the look of disbelief on your face. "Your next game isn't for four days." You point out. "You're really going to make me wait that long?"

He shrugs, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye. He's all talk. "We've waited for ten years. I don't see what another few days could hurt."

"Screw that," you say. You set your beer on the table next to you and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. His hands settle automatically on the small of your back, arms around your waist, and you can feel his smile as he kisses you. You can't help but to smile back.

You're soon interrupted by a shouted, "Hey, Winchester finally got his girl!" from a drunken Benny, followed by whistles and catcalls from the rest of his teammates. You can't fight the heat that rises to your cheeks, but you sit through the ensuing teasing and congratulations as patiently as you can. Thankfully it's short lived as there's more exciting things happening -- it is a party after all -- and Dean's arm around your waist certainly helps calm your nerves.

"Don't be embarrassed," Dean says, knowing you've never been one for PDA. "You know they don't care." You aren't so embarrassed that you won't get over it in a minute or two, but you appreciate his attempts to calm you nonetheless. "And look on the bright side," he adds, brightening at whatever he's thinking. "At least now we're all on the same page the next time they call you my girl."

You smile. He's right. 'Winchester's girl' has a whole new ring to it now. It might have taken us a while to catch up, but they were right. You are, and always were, Dean's girl.

Secondary note: I realize I switch tenses halfway through this. I don't really feel like fixing it though. Also, I've tried to at least keep the present tense section all present tense, but I wouldn't be surprised if I'm switching back and forth. I usually write in past tense and found myself reverting back to it without realizing multiple times. I've reread it to try and catch anything, but it's late and I'm tired, so I probably missed some. I'll probably read this over again sometime in the next day or two to find any errors, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#winchester's girl #supernatural #fanfiction #hockey au #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x reader #getting together #friends to lovers

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huggybug · 2 years

Text

you gave me something to lose - nick blankenburg

word count: 1.8k words

the much anticipated contract extension fic!! check this out before you read ;) title from ‘love someone’ by lucas graham! also don’t mind the messy timeline with dev camp🫣 it was already written before as y’all know lol

“I talked to them this morning. Two years” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Nick! Babe that’s amazing, congratulations!”

“Thanks but I was actually think-”

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about it or something stupid like that, Nicholas. This is all you’ve ever wanted! You would be an idiot if you turned this down and I can’t date an idiot”

Nick laughs. “Baby, calm down please” He waits for you to take a deep breath before continuing, “I was thinking… you should move with me”

“Me? In Ohio?” Your eyes widened. You hadn’t even thought about it if you were being honest. Ever since Nick signed in April, you two had been taking everything one day at a time, there was too much going on to think about the future and what it may hold for you both.

“Well yeah, I can’t exactly commute from Michigan” You roll your eyes while Nick smirks at you. “I don’t want to do this without you” Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Nick… of course I’ll go” It was simple, you loved Nick. You have ever since you saw him in your freshman year at the first hockey party of the season that your roommate dragged you to, claiming her ‘sophomore friend’ on the team would get you guys in.

“Good because I really didn’t want to live with Kent”

…

“This one… or this one?” You pointed to the final two options of kitchen bar stools and waited for Nick to share his opinion. You two were finally in Columbus and while you had pre-ordered the main things like your bed and couch to the apartment before you actually got here, there was still so much to buy.

So today has been primarily spent in Pottery Barn, you first had to reroute Nick from Ikea because that’s apparently where he thought the good furniture was.

Nick had decided to let you decorate since he didn’t care what the apartment looked like as long as it ‘had a place to sleep and a place to eat’ he was fine. However, since he was paying for most of it, you figured he should get a say also.

“They look the same”

“This one is white leather with gold metal and this one is cream with bronze metal” You explained, pointing to the two stools again. Nick looked between the options, clearly not seeing the difference and you sighed.

“I’ll just ask your sister” You groan as you snap pictures of both stools, texting them to her quickly. “I want you to actually like the stuff we get Nick! I don’t want this to be my apartment that you have to pay for” Nick was paying for the apartment and while you tried to convince him to let you pay half of the rent, which did cause a big argument, he didn’t budge.

“I will like it. If you picked it, I’ll like it, trust me” He smiles, stepping forwards and reaching for your hips, dragging you close to him.

“You at least have to help choose the bed” You grumble, looking at him with a pout.

“Fine, let’s go look at them now and then we’re going for lunch”

…

“I thought we were done for the day” Nick whined as you punched in the next address on his car’s gps.

“This one’s quick, I ordered online so I just have to pick it up” You explained and Nick huffed before starting to follow the car’s directions.

You had actually gotten a lot done today. All the furniture was ordered and should be in by next week and your car was full with random decor that was totally going to look amazing. Nick’s sister agreed on the white and gold bar stools so you luckily got those since they were the last few in stock and Nick even pretended to be excited about that.

With all the stuff you got today on top of everything from your last few Target runs, you were pretty much all set and now you just had to get everything out together in the apartment. There was just the final couple things you had to pick up and then you’d be done.

…

“Where’d these frames come from?” Nick pulled out three frames from the trunk of the car, trying to remember if they were from Ikea or Pottery Barn.

You dropped the box you were holding and rushed over to grab them from him. “I’ll show you inside, c’mon”

Nick helped you get them into the living room before you both unwrapped them. You grinned at Nick as he took in the three pictures you had gotten framed. The first one was from one of his last games as a Wolverine, him posed in his iconic celly. You got it because you knew how much Nick loved his time at Michigan and he definitely already missed it.

The second was a photo of the two of you at the graduation party his mom threw as soon as he got home from Finland. It was your favourite photo; Nick was looking at you with a huge smile on his face and your one arm was wrapped around him while a flute of champagne dangled from the other hand. Your mom said it looked like your engagement party which made you laugh at the time but now looking back on it, you kind of agreed.

The last one was a photo you took after his first NHL game. He was still in his uniform and you were wrapped around him, squeezing his torso tight as his arm draped around you. You both looked happy as can be and you figured it was a good memory to have framed in your house.

“Baby… these are awesome” Nick smiles. The pictures meant a lot more to him than they probably should have but he didn’t say much, he just looked at them again and then started carrying them around the apartment, trying to find the best place to hang them.

The rest of your day went similar to that. You worked together to bring everything in from the car and start organizing the apartment exactly the way you wanted it. Nick was an amazing helper and by the time the sun set, your were both ready to give up for the day.

You were moving around him in the kitchen, trying to throw together a quick dinner because today had quite literally wiped you out. “Here, relax” Nick said as he handed you a glass of wine with a smile. You eyed the open bottle on the counter behind him, your favourite rosé.

“Nicholas you’re too good to me” You grin, swiping the glass from his hand and taking a quick sip. Nick smiled as he turned back to the stove, stirring the pasta he’d been cooking while you prepped everything else.

“I’m just trying to make it worthwhile” Nick mumbled.

“Make what worthwhile?” You ask, looking up from the vegetables you were cutting. He turns to face you, leaning against the counter as he picks up his own wine glass, casually taking a sip.

“You coming here” He says quietly.

You raise an eyebrow, setting your glass down on the counter and stepping closer to him. “Nick…”

“I just feel guilty… I forced you to move away from home and I don’t know, I just want to make sure you enjoy it here” Nick was staring down at his hands, swirling the wine in his glass as a form of distraction.

“You did not force me to move here” You assure him but you’re not sure if it works.

He shrugs, telling you to forget it. “Today’s supposed to be a happy day, I don’t want to ruin it”

“No, hey- I don’t want you to think I’m only here because you asked. I wanted to come with you but I wasn’t sure if we were there or what”

“I always want you here, I don’t think I could do it without you” He says, placing his wine glass on the counter behind him and pulling you into him by your hips.

“You can do anything Nicholas, you should know that by now” He was nothing if not self-motivated. You’re almost positive there wasn’t a single thing he wanted to do that he hadn’t already accomplished. It was something you loved about him.

Nick hummed, “I’m happy you’re here”

“I’m happy to be here babe” You grin, bumping your nose against his. “But c’mon we need to finish dinner because we’ve got a long day tomorrow and I need some sleep”

You broke apart, resuming your movements around each other in the kitchen. It was so domestic all of a sudden, not that you weren’t used to cooking with Nick since you spent a fair amount of time in college cooking for the boys but this was different.

You were cooking in your own apartment. Your and Nick’s home. It felt so natural and the feeling excited you. You couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about what your life could turn out to be; entertaining the idea of marrying Nick and having kids. Sure, maybe it was a little soon but there was no harm in daydreaming, right?

…

The summer practically flew by. Nick was busy at development camp while you finished the final touches on your apartment, then he was training on and off the ice and was busier than you’d ever seen him.

It was fine though because you were together. He could come home from training and you’d be there, it made everything so much easier because on top of his ridiculous training schedule, there wasn’t also the aspect of trying to do long distance. You two made the trip back home for a couple weeks; Nick was happy to see his family and the boys a little before they all had to go back to their respective cities for the season.

However, after the way too short trip, you were headed back to Columbus. “This is crazy” You look over to Nick who was now staring at you.

“Yeah, planes are pretty cool” You joke back and Nick laughs while shaking his head.

“No like… we’re going to Columbus right now” You furrow your eyebrows. Did he not realize you’d already spent a few months in Columbus?

“Babe are you feeling okay?”

“It’s just a lot to take in” He shrugs and you smile, reaching for his hand.

“We’re going to Columbus for you to play in the NHL on your million dollar contract” Nick blushes when you continue to boost his ego.

“Yeah but also, we’re starting our life… like our real life outside of college” He said it like it was all hitting him at once and you smiled gently.

“We’re grown ups” You affirm.

“Thank you again for being here, I really wouldn’t want to do it alone”

“You wouldn’t be alone, you have Kent” You grin.

“Not what I mean”

#andddd insert nick smut anon’s celebratory resigning sex🤝#nick blankenburg x reader #nick blankenburg imagine #nick blankenburg fic #columbus blue jackets #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl players #nhl fanfiction

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hattywatch · 1 year

Text

J. Vesey - July for the Whole Year Ch5.

A/N: I had such a hard time getting these two to do what I wanted them to do. I wanted more pining, more misunderstandings, more ANGST. Alas, they had other ideas. Enjoy ;) ((All reblog tags are thoroughly read and fangirl-ed over))

<< Chapter 4:

September 2021

"It sucks. I should have trained harder," this the closest you've seen Jimmy to tears and it's bringing you to the edge yourself. The frustration slips off his skin and rankles your shoulders, itching to take some of the pressure off of his.

Shaking your head you answer, "No, you give 110% all the time, Jimmy. It's going to happen, you're going to show them your worth and how talented you are and it'll work out. I know it."

It's a Sunday afternoon and Jersey is interested. They have him on a professional try out and he should know by the end of preseason if he's got a spot or not. Since he's staying in Jersey, it's a short train ride for him to get breakfast with you in the city, and it's so much better than him being on the other coast. You're getting a little spoiled by it- having him close again. A call away after you get out of work to grab a coffee. Just a shout to have him meeting you for brunch on his day off. You barely whisper an idea before he’s getting on a train and he’s at your door.

Maybe you talk a big game of confidence to him- because you have all the confidence in the world in the man sitting in front of you- but you're still nervous. Permanence in Jersey would be amazing. Less than an hour away, you'd get your best friend back and maybe one day you'll flex your confidence in yourself, get your head out of your ass, and tell him some of these feelings you've been squashing.

"Maybe I should just hang 'em up. Go play in Europe," he shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth.

You steal a piece off his plate, "That's too far. I just got you back here," you frown and nibble at his bacon.

He doesn't quite meet your eyes when he answers, "You could come, too."

Your heart kicks up an erratic rhythm as you search his face for any hint of a joke, but you don't find one, and that's more unsettling than the alternative.

He grabs the check and heads to the front to pay, swagger in his step, like he didn’t just rock your world on its axis.

______

"I don't think he was serious," Gracia scoffs and sips her beer, rolling her eyes so far back you can only see the whites. You hear the door slam behind her and Brady walks into frame. He bends down and gives her a kiss on the top of her head and waves to you through the camera.

"Girls’ night?" The perpetual smile stretched across his face is comforting.

You confirm, nodding. "I'm having a crisis."

Brady nods sagely, "A Jimmy-sized crisis?"

"How'd you know?" He shrugs but smirks and tells Gracia he'll talk to her later.

"Before I was interrupted- he was absolutely serious," she gets a little closer to the screen and drops her voice, and you appreciate the effort to be discreet, even though you know telling her is the same as sending the story certified-mail to Brady himself. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. I'm working through it. If he ever offers again, maybe I'll take him up on it. I work mostly remote now and my parents retired during the pandemic, so they're not nearby anymore. Nothing is holding me here."

Gracia interjects, "Now's the time, girl."

Sipping your drink thoughtfully you know she's right, but far be it from you to pump the rumor mill. "Okay, enough about me. Tell me about your honeymoon, please."

Gracias smiles, "I have pictures. Let me share my screen."

______

October 2021

Jimmy's staying in a hotel in Jersey while he attends camp. He said the bed sucks so he's been crashing on your couch damn near every weekend; he’s a fixture in your place, just as much as your ottoman.

The coffee maker is dripping a new pot as you help him fold the blankets when he gets the call.

He nervously answers, you see his agent's name light up the screen. Left hand holding his phone to his ear, the right one clenched hard in his pocket, you wait on pins and needles, biting your lip in an effort to keep a neutral face, ready to support him either way.

It’s not long before Jimmy’s face splits into a grin and you can let go of your lip, swollen and red. He grabs your hand and squeezes.

"Amazing. Yeah send it over I'd be happy to sign it," you squeeze his hand back and your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile is. "Yeah, thank you. Talk to you soon. Bye."

You're jumping up and down before he can get his phone back in his pocket. “You’re staying?!” It didn’t seem possible, but his smile widens as he nods, and you laugh jumping up and down before he opens his arms and you jump up into them. Entangled, he spins you around and you lean back laughing and winsome, hands interlocked behind his neck to see his smile giving way to dimples in his cheeks.

When your eyes meet for a scant second, the high drains rapidly, spiraling down the sink like the plug was pulled, too aware of your ankles locked behind his back and his hands under your ass.

He drops you immediately and you find your footing as he tucks his hands back into his pockets, stumbling over excuses to high-tail it out of your place, “I have to go- call my parents, a realtor, start getting my stuff shipped. See you later?”

It would be weird to let a little accidental butt grab get in the way of everything you built, so you’re genuine when you muster a smile, “Obviously. Go get your ducks in a row. I’ll start sending you apartment listings.” Locking the door behind him, you feel more hopeful and fanciful than you have in years.

______

November 2021

Before you know it, you slip into the easy habit of being with Jimmy. It’s like no time at all has passed and you’re greedy with it. Like a dry sponge soaking up as much water as possible, you fill all your free time with Jimmy.

Trying to make up for the distance that tore you apart with miles and time-zones, you patched yourselves together with phone calls and video chats when they were just a sad facsimile of the real thing. But now… now you have time to sew your friendship carefully back together, reinforcing the stitches; making it stronger, more durable, hardier than before and you both are too willing to put in the work.

It’s implied that each weekend off is spent together. There’s a drawer in your dresser dedicated to sweats he’s left behind, and you’re sure you’re using at least half of his new bathroom's medicine cabinet with your skincare routine.

It feels good. It feels natural. It feels easy.

______

Finally, you make it to Jersey for a game versus Philly. Kevin's in and you'll get to see them both tonight, dinner plans set no matter how the game turns out. You have a jersey, Jimmy’s name across your shoulder blades and a 16 on your sleeve. Watching the boys live has electricity in your veins and a megawatt smile on your face. It's an icy Sunday night, but you took off from work Monday so you can stay the night at Jimmy’s, and say bye before he leaves for a string of west coast games.

The Devils win handily, a 7 goal game that ends 5 to 2. Neither Jimmy nor Kevin played great, but when you see them walking out of the tunnel, shoulder to shoulder, it’s just like old times back at the Garden. Kevin looks up and sees you first, Jimmy still looking down at his feet, mouth moving a mile a minute as he speaks under his breath to Kevin.

Kevin plasters a shit-eating grin on his face and winks. His voice is loud and echoes in the hall, “Speak of the devil, there’s your girl now!” In the past your face would have gone hot and red, maybe you would have stammered out a lame retort at Kevin’s antics, but you just roll your eyes and hold out your arms.

“Yes, here I am,” Jimmy rolls his eyes too, slugging Kevin on the shoulder as they approach.

“Take me to eat, I’m starving,” Kevin’s suit jacket is already off and slung over his shoulder and you know Jimmy’s itching to get out of his, hating the way a suit constricts his movement.

You nod, “I made reservations.”

______ Nothing has changed, despite the two boys cycling through various sweaters for the last few seasons. Kevin proves himself still supremely inconvenient to your love life throughout dinner.

"Kevin I swear to God," you mumble around a mouthful of sushi.

He dips his roll in soy sauce, "I'm just curious! I wanna meet whoever is giving it to you on the regular these days."

Piling ginger onto your salmon roll you reply without lifting your eyes, "No one is giving me anything on the regular. I assure you, I'd know."

He shrugs, "You just seem happy. I thought maybe you were getting laid. Must be another reason." He's quiet for a second, munching thoughtfully on a shrimp moneybag.

You're sure you've made it out unscathed, but he turns to face Jimmy and you're ready to stab your own eardrums with your chopsticks to evade hearing whatever is surely coming next out of Kevin's mouth.

"What about you Jimbo, you giving it to anyone of importance these days?"

Jimmy handles Kevin the way only a lifelong friend knows how. Before Kevin can get the question out of his mouth, Jimmy raises his brows, "You that hard up, buddy? Sorry to say I only see you as a friend."

You choke on your laughter, feeling the tingle of wasabi in your nose, but Kevin takes it in stride. "Nah, if I wanted to bang a friend I'd have made a move by now." He stands up to suss out the bathroom and leaves a thick silence coating you and Jimmy.

"I swear I thought I missed him," Jimmy shoves a California roll into his mouth and you nod.

"Ah yes, the remedy for missing Kev, is actually seeing Kev, unfortunately." You meet his eyes briefly and they're warm and assessing while he lets a small laugh pass his lips.

Kevin peeks over your shoulder, "I just felt you talking shit. Felt it in my soul," he shakes your shoulder with a large hand as he sits next to you.

"I mean… you're right, so please also tell me the lotto numbers, Miss Cleo?"

Kevin laughs and pulls out his wallet signaling to the waiter. "You need a ride back to the train or anything? I'm going to grab a cab that way."

Picking up your napkin you wipe your mouth and drop it onto your empty plate, "Nah, I'm staying by Jim's tonight. I'm off tomorrow."

Kevin props his elbows on the table and rests his face in his hands. You chance a glance to Jimmy, bewildered, before patting Kevin on the back, "Are- are you okay?"

He's muffled, but manages, "Why do you guys keep leaving this open for me to dunk on? I don't have the restraint!" Your pat turns into a chiding slap.

"Oh my God, shut up Hayes." He continues throwing you suggestive looks any time Jimmy looks away until his Uber pulls up to the curb.

When he hugs you goodbye, you hope Jimmy has been afflicted with momentary deafness and misses the muttered innuendo of, "Hope you get dicked down tonight," before Kevin steps back and shouts "love you!" tumbling into his cab.

______

Your Uber pulls up a few minutes after Kev's. The ride back to Jimmy's is only about 15 minutes, but the single glass of wine you had at dinner is taking its toll. Jimmy's gracious when your head falls onto his shoulder, stacking his on top of yours.

"Tired?" he mumbles into your hair. You nod in reply, knowing he can feel it under his cheek.

The car pulls up to his building and he helps you out before looping his arm around your waist as you trudge up the stairs in your heeled boots. "Did your TV come today? I think I have one more glass of wine in me."

He shakes his head, "Shipping delay. They said next week. I finally hung the bedroom one, though."

You step back and let Jimmy unlock his door. "That works," you perk up, kicking off your boots by the door and slinging your winter coat over a stool at the kitchen island, before grabbing a glass from the cupboard to the right of the sink. "Want one?"

Jimmy looks up at you while working on the knot of his tie and toe-ing off his dress shoes, "Yeah just one, though." You grab another glass from the cabinet and fill it with the sweet white that Jimmy keeps in the house for you, since you know he prefers beer over all else.

When you sit side-by-side on his bed, socked feet dangling over the edge, it seems like a great idea. He clicks on the TV to House-Hunters and you spend the first glass of wine poking fun at the couples who always seem to be a partnership of the most annoying individuals the producers can find.

It still seems like a great idea when Jimmy gets up and leaves the room and comes back in sweats and a t-shirt with two more glasses of wine and hands you your share before plopping down, sitting with his back against the headboard and his own wine glass propped on his thigh.

You deem it a good idea to take the next commercial break to wash your face and change into a pair of leggings and one of Jimmy’s sweatshirts, since his apartment is always just this side of cold- and join him against the headboard.

It doesn’t seem like a particularly good idea or bad idea- so you remain neutral as you pick up your side of the comforter and slide your cold feet under the thick blanket. Jimmy mirrors you on his side, and changes the channel during a commercial.

______

Hindsight is 20/20, so it’s very easy now, with the first rays of sunrise peeking through the bedroom curtains, to realize that pulling the covers up to your chin and plugging in your phone on Jimmy’s nightstand were bad ideas. They seemed innocuous at the time, but in the sobering morning light, you feel the heavy weight of them.

Speaking of heavy feelings, you grasp at your ribcage only to find a lanky arm wound around it, fist clutching the sheets in front of your body.

The clock on the nightstand reads 5:03, so you sleepily make you worst decision of the past 12 hours and choose to close your eyes and press back into the warm heat of Jimmy’s body and let it lull you back to sleep.

The next time you wake the sun is brighter and the arm around you squeezes slightly. It stops abruptly, paralyzed for a second before you hear a sharp inhale of breath behind you. Jimmy’s so close you feel him slowly let the breath out against the nape of your neck.

“Shit,” it’s soft but you hear it anyway.

You're left cold when he gently removes his arm from around you and rolls out of the bed.

______

The speed that Jimmy accesses running around his apartment packing is actually pretty impressive. You’d be more impressed if you weren’t worried he was doing this to avoid looking at you directly. Still in pjs, you’re slowly sipping your coffee, feet tucked up underneath you on his couch trying your very best to be relaxed about this whole situation.

“I could help you pack, you know,” you yell towards his open bedroom door. The thump you hear sounds suspiciously like Jimmy knocking his head against his bathroom cabinet. The hasty curse that follows confirms your hypothesis.

He replies with a croaked, “I got it. Almost done,” and you accept your fate on the couch.

“You going to be good here if I leave? I don't think I have time to drop you at the train.” Jimmy walks back into the living room, luggage in hand. “ We overslept a little," Jimmy walks back into the living room, luggage in hand and speaks mostly to the floor.

Smiling up at him, you nod. "I am fully capable, yes. I'll lock up behind me," you promise. His face relaxes a touch and you can see a red mark on his forehead where you confirm that, yes, he did whack his head against the cabinet.

Standing, you walk around Jimmy to drop your mug in the sink knowing you'll wash it before you go. You stand in front of him (blocking his escape route to the front door) to confirm, "See you in a week?" Trying to inject some hopefulness into your voice, you silently pray whatever awkwardness is still clinging to Jimmy after your impromptu bed-sharing will be scrubbed clean after this away stretch.

At the same time, you hope you can shove him back into that box in your heart and stop making things weird with your best friend. Surely, no man who's interested in you would be reacting in the way Jimmy is, frenetic and downright dodgy.

You can't remember the last time Jimmy was anything but calm, quiet sureness around you – maybe when you first met and he came to your door with bagels, if you really had to put a date on it.

He nods like you’ve seen him do in intermission interviews, brows drawn together and mouth in a hard line. You’re sure he’s going to give you some platitude about playing a full 60, but he just promises back, "Of course." After checking his watch he tacks on, "But I do have to go now." He leans down to hug you and you wrap your arms tight around his middle.

When your phone rings shrilly, still on the couch, you turn your head to glimpse at the caller id. That's your plan anyway, but you're surprised when your lips catch Jimmy's, clearly in their path to your cheek before you jerked your head to the right and intercepted them.

It's shy and perfect for only a second, both of you tentatively leaning in and tilting your heads, before Jimmy breaks the kiss and looks down at you, confusion pinching his brows together. "I'm sorry. I-"

Before he can finish, you cut him off. Shaking your head with your eyes closed, you spill your secret.

"I'm not."

Your voice is breathier than you want it to be, but you realize that you want this more than anything you've ever wanted before, so you power through your embarrassment, heart thrumming harshly in your chest and palms sweating where they’re clutched behind Jimmy’s back.

You've made some questionable decisions in the past few hours, but you'd hate yourself forever if you didn't make your intentions explicitly clear.

And Jimmy- Jimmy has never once let you down since you've known him and he keeps that impeccable streak going as he croaks out a soft, "Finally," and brings his perfect mouth to yours with purpose this time.

The arm that was hugging you to him is joined by the other, and you hear the clatter of his luggage falling to the hardwood. He doubles down, dragging his hand up and into your messy bed head. When he thumbs at the pulse point behind your ear, it's visceral when you bite at his lip in retaliation and you feel him smile before his mouth leaves yours and his lips and tongue follow the path his thumb found over the thin skin just below your right ear. It makes you breathe in sharply, his name slipping softly out of your mouth before he brings his lips back to yours and swallows your moan.

His mouth feels holy against you, intimate and reverent, promising he’ll be back for more.

After a messy moment of teeth and tongues, a meeting you've both been silently, secretly awaiting, he pulls back and holds your face as gently as glass. Eyes closed and lashes against his cheek he's smirky when he delivers the bad news, gently shaking his head. "As much as I don't want to. I have to leave. I don't want to miss the flight."

"See you in a week?" You remind him, now so sure he’ll give you the exact answer that you want, genuinely and doubtlessly.

He leans back in and gives you one more languid kiss before he picks up the forgotten luggage and heads towards the door.

“6 days. I’ll be counting the seconds.”

The door closes behind him and you know you’ll be doing the same.

#jimmy vesey imagine #jimmy vesey fic #new york rangers fic #new jersey devils fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #hockey fic #reader insert #relationships #first kiss #mutual pining #idiots in denial #idiots in love #bed sharing

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jimothystu · 10 months

Text

Instagram AU: One of the Boys Part 1

Summary: YN is best friends with Trevor and by proxy has become "one of the boys" with him, the Hughes brothers, and Cole Pairings: Reader & Jack Hughes, Reader & Trevor Zegras, Reader & Quinn Hughes, Reader & Luke Hughes, and Reader & Cole Caufield Notes: I’m starting a little series! Haven’t decided who the reader ends up with yet so lmk if you have any preference! Also may write actual fics for this if there’s interest 🫶 All pics from Pinterest - credit to owners! Tag list:(join here or lmk if you want to be tagged in this series specifically) **[I messed up the form at first and forgot to have a place for urls and someone filled it out but since there was no url idk who it was 😭 I'm sorry!! If you filled out my form and were not tagged in this pls redo it!] @sammiejane22 @jackhues

Liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and others

yourusername: I love these dorks. Thanks for letting me crash guys weekend!

Tagged _quinnhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06, trevorzegras

View top comments

jackhughes: which one of you fuckers took that last pic

⇢ _quinnhughes: Wasn’t me

⇢ lhughes_06: Nah man not me

⇢ jackhughes: @/trevorzegras I SWEAR TO GOD

⇢ trevorzegras: 👀

⇢ yourusername: 😂 Thanks Z!!

Liked by trevorzegras

_quinnhughes: Feel free to crash guys weekend any time 😌

⇢ yourusername: You’re only saying that because I made pancakes

⇢ _quinnhughes: No…

⇢ lhughes_06: No we definitely like your company… and food…

Liked by yourusername

trevorzegras: I won twister for anyone who cares

⇢ _quinnhughes: No one cares

⇢ yourusername: I care! 🙋‍♀️

Liked by trevorzegras

lhughes_06: Kay but who do you love the most?

⇢ yourusername: I plead the fifth

⇢ fan1: We all know it’s Z!

Liked by yourusername

fan3: OMG JACK AND YN DOING FACEMASKS TOGETHER PLEASE THATS SO CUTE

- fan10: I ship it!!!!

Liked by yourusername, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, colecaufield, and others

Trevorzegras: This is the love I get

Tagged jackhughes and yourusername

View top comments

_quinnhughes: Cuz no one invited you

⇢ trevorzegras: YN invited me

⇢ _quinnhughes: @/yourusername why

⇢ yourusername: He said he’d buy me ice cream

jackhughes: 😂

Liked by trevorzegras

lhughes_06: Wow that’s the love I get from Jack too

⇢ trevorzegras: Twinning 👯‍♂️

yourusername: Lol love you Z

⇢ trevorzegras: Yeah yeah 🙄

colecaufield: Brutal

⇢ trevorzegras: Truly the worst 😔

fan6: Omg first the face masks now this??

⇢ fan8: Sibling behaviour omg

⇢ fan3: Or couple behaviour 👀

⇢ fan6: Nah they’re clearly just friends

⇢ fan2: Idk some of the pics look a bit sus

Liked by jackhughes, colecaufield, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and others

yourusername: “This is the love I get”

Tagged trevorzegras

colecaufield: Got him 😂

Liked by yourusername

trevorzegras: You’re literally also flipping me off

⇢ yourusername: 🤷‍♀️

lhughes_06: Lol did you banish her to the backseat or sth

⇢ trevorzegras: Nah Jack called shotgun

⇢ yourusername: He cheated though!! Covered my mouth before I could say anything

⇢ lhughes_06: 😂

⇢ jackhughes: All's fair in love war and car rides

_quinnhughes: Get wrecked

⇢ trevorzegras: Why do you hate me

⇢ _quinnhughes: 🤷‍♂️

⇢ yourusername: He secretly loves you Z. Told me when we were drunk at the lake house

⇢ trevorzegras: OH???

⇢ _quinnhughes: @/yourusername I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE

⇢ yourusername: 😇

fan2: They’re so cute 😭

#nhl social media au #nhl insta edit #hockey social media au #hockey insta edit #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #cole caufield x reader #nhl x reader fancition #nhl reader insert #hockey x reader fanfiction #hockey reader insert

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midnightsnyx · 1 year

Text

allie's writing guide

requests are currently open.

what i write

reader x character

one shots/drabbles

imagines

alternative universes

social media au’s

headcanons

who i write

RPF: hockey players x reader

criminal minds

aaron hotchner

spencer reid

the hunger games

finnick odair

harry potter

remus lupin

sirius black

the last of us

joel miller

sentence starters here & here & here I don’t write smut/NSFW.

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streaminn · 9 months

Note

barring hockey enid, do any of the enids read/write fanfictions?

i can see bg enid reading tooth rotting fluff while weeping and wondering what could've been

bodyguard enid definitely does indulge during her highschool days but her coping went to drinking when she got out of her service

streamer enid however? is a degenerate, every viper/reader fic? she has read. And sometimes, when that runs out, she begrudgingly goes through the viper/helios fics and cringes at how edgy her character is

She even made her own actually, under a psuedonym because its lowkey embarassing to write fanfiction of the self insert of your wife but yknow what, wednesday finds it funny so its A-OKAY

(she also has read any and all wednesday addams x reader. She's taking this to the grave because one, wednesday is literally just a text away so why is she doing this and also she gets flustered at the content at times)

for context, wednesday in the streamer enid au is this really popular horror actress and author so having content around her isn't so surprising

#bodyguard enid au #streamer enid au

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holy-puckslibrary · 2 months

Text

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

the gift of giving (18+) pairing(s) — trevor zegras x reader, jamie drysdale x reader, mason mctavish x reader, zegras x drysdale x mctavish

hands off my girl — bfb!rafe cameron x kook!reader

if we're lucky (18+) — rafe cameron x kook!gf!reader

the spit saga (18+) pairing — jamie drysdale x reader // series inspired by this post

girl dad quinn hughes <3 ★ #1 — a gaggle of girlies ★ #2 — stuck like velcro

★ muppet crumbs (18+) pairing — subby!trent frederic x reader

feb slumber party (18+) ★ #1 — silent treatment pairing — dbf!sidney crosby x reader ★ #2 — all nighters with rodeo riders pairing — bull-rider!mattew tkachuk x barrel racer!hughes!reader

˗ˏˋ my inbox ˎˊ˗

original blog — @holy-pucks

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cellythefloshie · 1 year

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;; Coffee, Tea, or Me? Inspired by the Twitter Post

Summary: As barista at Ross Colton's favourite Starbucks the two of you have formed a rather flirtatious relationship that hasn't gone any further than banter and serving drinks - but Ross finds that he needs to make things right after the social media team leaks his coffee order but associates it with the NHL's favourite coffee partner Dunkin Donuts. Word Count: 976

General Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @wingedwheelprxncess

In Tampa, Ross had more than enough choices of which Starbucks he could stop at on the way to the arena or the airport, and others closer to home when it came to his downtime. Some were much more convenient than others and fell on his direct route, but no matter his destination he was always making the time to make a stop at a certain location. The Starbucks you worked at.

Ross found himself there almost daily when they were back in Tampa for a homestead, his order always the same, and his encounters with you just as sought after as the cold brew. The first time you had served him had been such a pleasant experience he had kept coming back - that was what he told you at least. It also helped that he found both your features and personality very attractive. With time and familiarity, you were on a first-name basis, and flirtations were blatant but never went beyond words. Words that he found himself pondering as he walked into the coffee shop for the first time since his 4-game road stint that included games in Montreal, Ottawa, Boston and Carolina. His lips split into a grin at just the sight of you, but before he could let the perfectly crafted line fall from his lips, you were leaning up against the counter with a smile of your own.

“You cheating on me?” If it had been anyone else making such an accusation his blood might have run cold, but your words were playful and so was your smile.

“On you? Never.” Ross countered as he came up to the counter in the coffee shop and propped himself up on the counter across from you. Thankfully it was a slow day and there was no line to hold up.

“Oh really?” you challenged him, your brow raising playfully as you reached your hand down into your apron for your phone. It had only taken you a moment to pull up the picture and offer your phone out to him - and it coaxed a laugh up his throat in an instant.

The picture had been taken from the Tampa Bay Lightning's social media pages, a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee cup edited to display his favourite coffee order, complete with one of his favourite goal celebrations in the top corner.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like,” his words were playfully pleading as a hand reached up and rested over his heart, “you know your coffee is the only one for me.”

You gave him a playful scoff that had him reaching over the counter to return your phone and as he returned it to you the touch of his fingers lingered against your own. “Forgive me, please, I’ll never drink another sip of another coffee-”

“So you did cheat on me!” you were grinning wider now as you threw your head back with a laugh. It had the other baristas starring, but he didn’t mind and neither did you. After his almost daily appearances and the mutual flirtations, they had more than gotten used to your antics. “I don’t know Ross, I don’t think I can trust you with my delicious cold brew.”

“I’ll do anything for that cup of coffee,” his words were desperate as his bright blue eyes held your gaze.

“Anything?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he proclaimed as you slowly retracted your hand from his hold and slipped your phone back into your apron.

“I’m going to need to sleep on it, but for now I think I can try to put this behind us just this once - but if I see you flirting with Dunkin again we’re through. My heart’s a fragile thing Ross, can’t have you running around breaking it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ross smirked as he remained leaning up against the counter. From there he watched you prepare the same drink he had ordered from you since the first time he had set foot in Tampa. It was there while he was propped up against the counter he noticed that you had changed the chalkboard that often featured location-specific specials and his smile only grew as it read The Colton in an elegant cursive font. Below it was the list of what he liked to add to his cold brew: almond milk and it was topped with caramel.

“Alright, Ross, we got The Colton for you,” you smile across the counter at him as you noticed his eyes lingering on the sign.

“You remembered the caramel swirl?” he cocked his head to the side playfully.

“Have I ever forgotten?” you tilted your head to match the tilt of his own head as you leaned up against the counter again. From there you tapped his order lazily into the register.

“No, never,” he nodded and placed cash down on the counter with a generous tip.

“Ross I can’t accept this-”

“Just one of the ways I will make it up to you,” he winked before he wrapped his hand around his cup and raised it in a toast of farewell to your coworkers who continued to gawk, “see you, tomorrow ladies.”

The door chimed as it opened and closed behind him, leaving you standing alone in the coffee shop with your coworkers. They stood, arms crossed over their chest and smile on their lips. “The two of you just need to fuck already,” one quipped, “I don’t think I can take another day of that banter.”

You squealed out her name, your cheeks red hot as your eyes went wide. “It’s not like that-”

“Sure it isn’t,” her eyes rolled, “when he comes in tomorrow to make it up to you, and he asked what that anything you want is, you better say a date or else I’m saying it for you!”

#ross colton #nhl rpf #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey rpf #nhl fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #;; { i know i said i would be writing road wife }#;; { but this one was quick and I couldn't shake the idea }#;; { also did go out and try his coffee order }#;; { it's pretty good }

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zackcollins · 3 years

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when i first heard your heartbeat || jack campbell

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’m deep in the feels for a certain goaltender. So, uh. That’s why this exists. As for the premise of the story, I absolutely plead the fifth. I say as a Canadian citizen living in Canada where the fifth amendment doesn’t exist. Anyways. Since I have to answer the question, I want the reader to be me so fucking badly. Happy? Alright. Now that that’s sorted. GIF credit to marc-andrefleury!!

Warnings: This fic mentions infertility and miscarriage. It’s nothing graphic, promise! It’s just mentioned as a way to further the storyline. But I’m warning about it because I know how much some people struggle with it or have struggled with it. If you need to avoid it, I completely understand and no hard feelings, okay?

Word Count: 2.4k+

Title: Lady by Brett Young

Additional: The reader is feminine this time! Or, well. The reader is anyone that has a uterus and can get pregnant! Because I specifically mention the reader having a uterus but men can have uteri too (*gestures at myself*). So, do whatever you will with that. I do call the reader a feminine term (Ms.) but it’s only when being called back to the exam room. So, you can still probably imagine yourself in the reader’s position if you have a uterus but aren’t feminine. Okay? Okay. I hope everyone enjoys this!

Sitting in the waiting room, you noticed that Jack was bouncing his left leg up and down and fidgeting with his hands. You placed your hand on his knee; he stopped bouncing and fidgeting immediately, slotting one of his hands over top of yours as he looked over into your eyes. You shared a soft look, no words being exchanged in the process. The two of you had been together long enough to be able to reassure the other with only looks. You still smiled when Jack asked if you were alright.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, guiding Jack’s hand up from his knee to kiss the back of it. Jack smiled fondly, brushing a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. You hummed in appreciation as you fell back against the waiting room chair. “Just a little nervous. You?”

Jack nodded, linking your ankles together in front of the chairs. You smiled, dropping your head against his shoulder; he brought his arm over and draped it across your upper back and shoulders. “Yeah, same, flowerbud.” Jack placed a kiss to your temple, squeezing you gently against him.

Taking your hand, you ran it over Jack’s knee in an attempt to soothe his ever apparent nerves. You looked up at your fiance, noticing a thankful expression on his face. He nodded briefly to affirm that he was thankful before he pressed another kiss to your temple. You swung your interlocked ankles back and forth, chuckling when you heard Jack huff an amused breath above you.

“That nervous, huh?” Jack’s question came out sounding more concerned than anything. It even came out sounding more like a statement than a question, if you were being honest. All the same, Jack ran his arm comfortingly along your upper arm and helped you in your effort to swing your ankles.

“This is a big thing, bud,” you said, sighing and running a hand down your face. You glanced up at Jack and noticed that he was looking at you with concern. You smiled softly, patting your fiance’s chest. “Of course I’m gonna be nervous. Who wouldn’t be? I promise I’ll be fine once we get in there though. Okay?” Jack went to respond but he closed his mouth when the door beside the reception desk swung open and shut with a resounding thunk.

Looking over, you saw a nurse standing there. She was holding a clipboard and appeared to be scanning the paper that was clipped to it. After a moment, she turned to face the seating area, clutching the clipboard to her chest.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse looked around the room. You noticed that the only other people there were a teenager and his mother. The teenager was playing on a Nintendo Switch and the mother was doing some work on a tablet computer.

You swallowed thickly as you lifted your head from Jack's shoulder and unlinked your ankles. Standing from the chair, you grabbed Jack's hand and guided him off of his own chair. Jack gave you a quick hug before he walked with you across the room to where the nurse was standing. The nurse raised a questioning eyebrow but didn't say anything as she led you and Jack through the door and back into one of the rooms.

Once you were in a room,the nurse closed the door and instructed you to lay on the examination table. Jack quickly stood beside you, grabbing your hand without having been asked. You mouthed your thanks as you rolled the hem of your shirt up to your ribcage, squeezing your eyes shut in the process.

You heard the nurse walk across the room and heard the chair on the side that Jack wasn't on creak as the nurse sat down. You swallowed nervously, wlibg yourself to open your eyes and look at her. When you did, she was holding the ultrasound wand and a bottle of medical gel. You swallowed again, looking over at Jack. Jack nodded, running his thumb across your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

"Are you ready?" The nurse asked, popping the top on the gel bottle. When you nodded, the nurse squirted the gel on your stomach. Shivering, you tried to recoil from the feeling of it on your skin. The nurse chuckled as she clicked the bottle closed and placed it back in the basket attached to the ultrasound machine. "Sorry. I probably should've warned you that it was going to be cold."

"No, it's fine," you said, sighing in annoyance. "It wasn't that bad anyways."

When you looked up at Jack, you could tell that he was trying his best to bite back a laugh or a smartass remark. You took your hand and swatted your fiance on the elbow, smirking when he huffed in defeat. You also cast him a stern, although soft at the same time, look to tell him to behave himself. Jack simply chuckled and gave a half-assed smile in response. You rolled your eyes as you looked back at the nurse.

She didn't seem to have noticed what had happened because she was looking at the ultrasound machine. She appeared to be pushing buttons and trying to find the right settings to get it to work. She pressed a few more buttons before nodding a moment later, turning to you and grabbing the wand again.

“Alright,” she said, adjusting herself in her seat so that she was in a better position to use the wand on your stomach. “Are you ready to get this show on the road?”

You heard Jack scoff as you chuckled, nodding along to what the nurse was saying. “Yeah. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“What about you, dad?”

“I’m the baby’s dad, not her dad,” Jack replied, sounding a little confused at that assumption.

The nurse sighed, shaking her head as she placed the wand on your stomach. You took your hand, patting Jack’s elbow sympathetically looking at him with just as much sympathy. Jack tilted his head in confusion, raising his shoulders, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding yours, and contorting his face into a look of confusion to express that he had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Jack, bud,” you said, looking up into your fiance’s eyes. “That’s what she meant. She would’ve said grandpa if she thought you were my dad.”

“Oh,” Jack mumbled. You saw his face wash over with a nice bubblegum hue as he looked between you and the nurse. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

“It’s fine. A lot of first time parents are.” The nurse looked up from where she had been moving the wand along your stomach and turned to the ultrasound machine. She pressed a couple of buttons and it brought up the sonogram image of your uterus and the baby inside of it, though there wasn’t really much to see because you weren’t that far along. The nurse pointed to the screen and circled her finger around the tiny black and grey image of the baby. “There’s your little one. I’d say you’re about eight to ten weeks along.”

You felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Before you had a chance to wipe them away, you heard Jack sniffle from beside you. You looked over and saw that he was already crying, tears streaking gently down his cheeks. That sent you over the edge, making your eyes open up and leak tears down your own cheeks. Jack brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles while running a thumb along the pulse point in your wrist. You shivered because the sensation of crying mixed with the sensation of him touching your pulse point was nearly too much to handle.

“Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?” The nurse cut in, making you and Jack both look over at her.

You looked up at Jack; Jack nodded fervently, a large smile present on his tear stained face. You turned back to the nurse and nodded, wiping away some of the tears on your cheeks. “Yeah. We’d love that.”

The nurse smiled as she turned to the ultrasound machine to press a couple of buttons. There was the sound of static for a moment then the nurse moved the wand and the faint sound of a beating heart could be heard through the speakers on the machine. You looked up at Jack and Jack looked down at you. Both of you burst into tears as you listened to the sound of your unborn child’s heartbeat. It was so surreal because you had tried to have this baby for the last four years. Four years of failed treatments. Four years of negative pregnancy tests. Four years of miscarriages. Four years of anguish had finally led up to this moment. A moment where you got to hear the heartbeat of a baby that was growing inside of you. A baby that was as much a part of you as they were a part of Jack. It was almost too much for you to handle. And, judging by the look and tears on Jack’s face, it was almost too much for him to handle as well.

“Do you want an .mp3 file of the heartbeat?” The nurse put a reassuring hand on your hip. “Hearing it obviously means a lot to you.”

“Yes, please, oh my god,” you and Jack blurted at the same time, tears falling harder down your cheeks as you both looked at the nurse.

The nurse nodded, taking her hand away from your hip. She pressed a button on the ultrasound machine and you heard a beep that was much the same as that of a voicemail recording. After a few moments, the beep sounded again and the nurse turned back around and pressed the button again. It was at that moment that she set the wand down and handed you some paper towels to clean your stomach off. You thanked her as you wiped away the gel that was left, tears starting to subside. When you were done, Jack took the paper towels and threw them away in the garbage bin across the room. When he returned, the nurse was typing something into the machine. When she was done typing, a second or two passed before you heard your phone chime in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw that the nurse had emailed you the .mp3 file she had just recorded. You felt the tears starting to ramp back up, but Jack placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder calmed you down enough to stop you from crying again.

“Alright. That should be it for today,” the nurse said, clasping her hands together. “If you need anything, give the office a call. Otherwise, I’ll see you in two months for your next appointment.” You and Jack nodded as the nurse reassuringly patted your knee. “Take as much time as you need to gather yourselves. There aren’t any more appointments until after lunch.” With that, the nurse stood from the chair and walked out of the room.

Jack looked at you, bending down and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You grabbed his wrist and soothed your thumb along his pulse point. You revelled at the fact that Jack shivered at your touch, finding it a small accomplishment because he wasn’t usually one to get flustered like that. When you ran your thumb along the pulse point again, he shivered again, proving to you that he was just as overwhelmed by this whole situation as you were.

Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone and opened up the email app. Bringing up the email from the nurse, you clicked the .mp3 file and downloaded it onto your phone. Once again, without saying a word, you made a few changes to the haptics and dropped the phone in your lap. Looking up at Jack, you nodded down at the device, squeezing your eyes shut nervously.

“Why don’t you text me what time you guys play tonight, I accidentally deleted it from my calendar when I put in this appointment.” If that was a lie, Jack didn’t need to know.

Jack nodded, pulling out his own phone. After a moment, you saw him typing away on the screen and then heard him send the message. A moment later, you heard your phone go off. Looking up at Jack, you saw him frozen in place, his own phone dangling to the side of his hoodie pocket. He carefully slipped it inside before he wrapped you in a massive hug. The next thing you heard was your fiance sobbing into the crook of your neck and felt his body vibrating against you. You brought your hands up and ran them soothingly along his back, mumbling sweet nothings softly into his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

When the phone went off again after you hadn’t cleared the notification, Jack stepped back and wiped his eyes with his hoodie sleeves. He looked down at the phone and then up at you. You saw a small smile on his distraught face. You took your hand and interlaced your fingers with the fingers of one of your fiance’s hands. Jack smiled a little more fondly at that, squeezing your hand. You squeezed back, running your hand along Jack’s elbow.

Jack heaved a heavy sigh before he looked back down at you, a fonder expression on his face. You ran a hand along his elbow again, smiling just as fondly in return. Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, brushing some of your hair aside with his free hand. You hummed, leaning into the touch.

“I can’t believe I finally get to be a father,” Jack mumbled, voice marred by how hard he had been crying. “I’ve waited my whole life for this. Waited four years with you. And all those years were worth it because I finally got to hear my baby’s heartbeat. Something I thought would never happen. And it’s happening with the love of my life. Can you believe that?”

You felt suddenly overcome with emotions as you sat there. You dropped your head against Jack’s chest; Jack took his hand and cradled your head, carding his fingers through your hair. You hummed softly at the sensation of his finger against your scalp. It felt nice to have something calming in all this chaos.

“Yeah, I can believe that,” you said, voice somewhat muffled by Jack’s chest. “Because all of it’s happening with the love of my life too.”

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