#jeff skinner x reader

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━ 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — written to fill a short n sweet request last year for my patreon fic-mas <3 and if you catch the lil nod to two of our favs, you're a real one

“I know we’ve been having a hard time concentrating this week, which is understandable with all the excitement surrounding the Snowball Dance, but you do have one more day of work before you can totally kick back and check out,” Jeff Skinner, a high school social studies teacher, says after the tardy bell chimes.

The students are settling into their seats but listen intently.

He continues, “That being said, I will still be collecting your annotations for chapters eighteen through twenty that we started during Monday’s class. While I’m doing that, a sign-up sheet for the Unit 5 case study presentations will be floating around the room. If I were you, I’d grab the earliest slot available to get it over with and be done for the semester. But, hey, that’s just me!”

His twelfth-grade AP Government class meets this with a chorus of groans. A subset of students lightheartedly boo him from the back row. Oddly, though, the ruckus pleases him.

Mr. Skinner strives to create a classroom environment where the teens feel comfortable sharing their honest feelings and have the space to do so if they choose. Their vocal push-back signifies their trust in him. He also appreciates their mutinous spirit because it arose after their deep dive into the Declaration of Independence and its twenty-seven grievances; they were combative but in the name of freedom for the cohort and the individual. Jeff saw that as a Teacher Win.

“I know, I know. I’m a tyrant, and you hate me. But unlike this country, this classroom is a monarchy, not a democracy,” he returns the teasing. “And if you looked at our agenda when you walked in this morning, you would’ve seen that—because I am obviously the nicest person ever—I have allocated today’s class period to independent work time. So, you can complete whatever you may need. That means putting any final touches on this week’s chapters, polishing up your Supreme Court case PowerPoints with your partner or group, or finishing any outstanding assignments.

And if you recall, I give full credit for late work, so long as it's on my desk before the cut-off tomorrow at noon. You’re welcome." Sarcasm is his favorite—and most effective—bonding strategy. "If you're squared away, you know where the board games and art supplies are. Just no more explicit drawings. I don’t care, but Mrs. Benson next door does.”

The class laughs, fondly recalling the fiasco the day before Homecoming.

A couple of students decided to use their free time to create a few political illustrations. While they were historically accurate and objectively hilarious, they were not “school appropriate,” according to the 9th-grade Geography teacher who glimpsed the comic strips as she passed the open door.

She demanded Jeff punish the perpetrators for their vulgarity, but instead, he had the drawings laminated and bound into a resource book. Said book has since found a home on a bookshelf, wedged comfortably between Howard Zinn’s A Power Governments Cannot Suppress and The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution by Linda Monk.

In his peripheral vision, Jeff sees a student waiting by the door and invites them in. He segues, “Before I leave you to your own devices, it looks like we have a visitor from ASB. So, please be nice, give them your full attention, and don’t embarrass me. Capiche?”

The class agrees to comply, and the boy, an underclassman if he had to guess, hesitantly walks to the front of the room.

Jeff remembers how intimidating seniors felt when he was that age, so he gives his students a pointed warning over the kid’s shoulder. A few of them perk up, noticeably straightening in their seats.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Leo, and I will be filling in for Gabby today.” He looks down at the printout of the day’s announcements and clears his throat. Then, Leo begins reading them aloud:

“Feeling stressed this finals season? Stop by the quad next week during both A and B lunch blocks to decompress with some therapy dogs. If you need further or individualized support, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will be opening up their schedules for one-on-one sessions. Appointments can be made using the yellow slips in the main office.

Work permits are available in the career counseling hub. If you plan on getting a job or need to renew, please submit an application as soon as possible. No permits will be issued during Winter Break.

Remember that your final exam period is not the same as your regular meeting time or day, so be sure to check your portals this weekend for the updated schedule.

Still need a ticket for the Snowball Dance tomorrow night? Please stop by the ASB room or contact Owen Power, the senior class president, before sixth period today. They’re $15 with an ASB card and $20 without one. Trust me; you don’t want to miss out!"

The audience of seniors cheers, hooting and hollering out their delight. The underclassman beams, confidence swelling, and tucks the script away. His smile grows. “And now…drum roll, please!”

As the students bang their desks with open palms, textbooks, and stray pencils, the ASB student angles a pair of jazz hands towards the open door.

“Santa Claus!”

Peyton, the current school mascot—in an ill-fitting costume that's certainly older than he is—materializes in the empty space. He hauls a lumpy velvet bag over his shoulder as he saunters across the room. The tiny gold bells affixed to the sack twinkle with every step.

“Ho, ho, ho! Candy Cane Gram delivery!” Peyton bellows.

His impression is unexpectedly convincing, in Jeff's humble opinion.

“Santa” roots around in the bag and pulls the first set out. They’re paper-clipped together, indicating both were for the same person. “Taylor Zimmerman? Two for you!”

He passes the slips of paper back to the student who raised her hand.

The distribution of festive notes, an annual fundraiser put on by the junior and senior class councils to bankroll the dance itself, fades into background noise as Mr. Skinner begins looking over the pile of essays he collected last period from his squirrelly 10th-grade World History class.

The prompt had been to explore the impact of globalization in the post-Cold War era, and they’re off to a great start. The first essay's author touches on “transnational actors” and their impact on overall global wealth—in the introductory paragraph. Pride blooms in his chest. Maybe someone had been paying attention after all.

Jeff gets through three and a half papers—all 95% and above, but who’s counting?—before he feels someone standing over him.

“Uh, Mr. Skinner?” Peyton whispers in his civilian voice.

“Yes?” Jeff replies.

To mark his spot, Mr. Skinner sets his pen below a particularly eloquent paragraph highlighting how American consumer culture polluted local ecosystems abroad.

The sophomore nervously looks around the room. After deciding his peers were too engrossed in the social politics of sending and receiving Candy Cane Grams and Ice Court nomination speculation to hear, Peyton pulls a slip of paper out from inside the thick, red coat and sets it on Jeff’s desk. It’s crumpled, and the miniature candy cane is barely hanging on.

“This last one’s for you.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Jeff smiles. The polite expression is meant to relieve the student from his classroom, but Peyton remains glued to his spot. Gently, he asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Krebs?”

“Aren’t you going to see who sent it?” the boy asks, all toothy grin and twinkling eyes.

Well, that’s not at all suspicious, Mr. Skinner thinks as he slides the slip closer.

He scans the generic template, reading his name and room number scrawled beside washed-out festive clipart, but doesn’t understand the fuss... until his eyes drift down to the section for an optional message.

Mr. Skinner,

Just like a snowflake, you’re one of a kind. Be my date to the dance tomorrow night? It would make me SNOW happy!

Jeff almost believes it’s from you. Had he not been familiar with your handwriting, it would have been an excellent forgery. But, he knew your penmanship. Maybe a little too well.

His anchor charts were all in your hand; he could see at least three from where he was sitting. Jeff can’t recall the last time he attempted one on his own.

In exchange for mercifully sparing him from teenage ridicule due to his poor penmanship, he handled the construction and refurbishment of the props and sets necessary for the Winter Showcase and spring musical every year. Whatever you, the brilliant and beloved drama teacher, dreamed up, Jeff dutifully built.

Including, but not limited to, an impressive Audrey II, the iconic Venus flytrap from “Little Shop of Horrors,” a life-size bubble for their Glinda to float around in during performances of “Wicked,”  and the massive tire that anchors the dilapidated junkyard set for “Cats.”

He was ambivalent about musical theater when he bartered the informal contractor role, but Jeff grew to love it after a few years. Due in large part to your infectious passion.

He gives the mastermind—or masterminds, props for trying, though.

“Oh, wow!” Jeff exclaims, deciding to play along. Peyton's face brightens; there’s no way he’s not involved. “Out of respect, let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”

“O-of course, Mr. Skinner,” Peyton sputters, as though he��s shocked Jeff didn’t notice anything amiss or ask any follow-up questions. “That’s why I waited to give it to you. It felt too personal to announce in front of your entire class. Especially after the whole Homecoming thing.”

“Thing” wasn’t what he’d call it, but this kind of dramatic exaggeration was one of the many reasons he loved working with teenagers.

During a pep rally in October, the student body president crowned the two of you the faculty Homecoming King and Queen. Jeff wasn't even aware that was a thing he could win, and neither had you, but you bashfully accepted the titles and accompanying crowns in front of a thousand rowdy high schoolers anyway.

Later that night, you slow-danced to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” under a sky of twinkling stars—clear fairy lights repurposed from the previous year’s "Camelot" canopy—black glitter tulle, and a plywood crescent moon.

The students lost their minds then and were yet to get over it. Obviously.

“I appreciate that,” Jeff says, biting back his amusement.

Peyton salutes him and hoists the sack over his shoulder again. He and Leo say their goodbyes and move on to the next classroom on their route.

The remainder of the school day was agonizingly hectic. So much so that it meddled with his plan to swing by the auditorium where you held classes.

His projector kicked the bucket in the middle of his lecture on the two-way exchanges collectively known as the Columbian Exchange; Jeff couldn’t get it back into commission until his prep period, so he would have to explain how the triangular trade route emerged from colonial mercantilism policies in the new year. His 9th-grade World Geography class refused to participate in the activity he organized to mimic the Arctic landscape and harsh climate, so, somewhat reluctantly, he cut his losses and threw on an episode of Where On Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? And right before his sixth period, some bored senior pulled the fire alarm, forcing the entire school to spend the glacial afternoon lined up in the parking lot.

All that said, it was safe to say Mr. Skinner had never been happier to see his driveway and his dog than he was this evening. The border collie shepherd mix, Chips—affectionately named as a tribute to the trained sentry dog who became the most decorated canine in the Second World War—is waiting on the porch. Joyously, he howls when Jeff gets out of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” he says as he reaches down to scratch between the pup’s ears. Chips jumps up, his muddy paws landing on Jeff’s coat. He begins licking his owner’s cheeks with reckless abandon. “Okay, come on, crazy dog. Let’s get you back inside.”

Immediately after Jeff opens the front door, Chips darts down the hallway. He chuckles, shaking his head as he sheds his coat and tosses his keys into the bowl by the door.

Jeff rescued his dog as he was wrapping up his undergraduate degree at NC State, and the two were as thick as thieves up until a few years ago.

That’s not to say anything happened or there’s bad blood; Chips simply found a new favorite person.

Jeff trails after Chips, following the furry tail and the delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a beer before turning to address his successor to the rescue's heart, standing at the stove stirring a giant pot of soup.  

“You won’t believe what happened in my second period today, babe. Every day, I’m surprised by how bold teenagers are. Hell, when I was their age, I was petrified to sharpen a pencil without asking. Their latest scheme wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Seriously, I don’t think you could guess what shenanigans they got up to if you tried.”

He's met with melodic laughter, a sparkly sound that still makes his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe not, but I don’t need to.”

Jeff’s brows knit together, confused. Then his eyes zero in on the slip of paper identical to the one in his back pocket.

If it were possible, his jaw could sweep the tile floor.

“Guess we aren’t as sly as we think,” you smirk, waving a counterfeit Candy Cane Gram of your own in the air like a white flag.

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[laurenairay]

6) “I just wanted to see how you’d react.” with Jeff Skinner please.

6 – “I just wanted to see how you’d react.” – Jeff Skinner

652 words.

Thank you for choosing Jeff for this one! I hope you like it!

*

“Not that I don’t enjoy shopping for baby clothes for your cousin…but normally you prefer to do that kind of shopping by yourself?”

“That’s because I usually don’t want you to see how broody I am,” you said dryly, making Jeff laugh, “But this time…I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“See how I’d react? What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“How you’d react to the teeny tiny baby socks. How your face lit up when you looked through the super cute onesies. How your smile grew when you felt how soft the baby blankets are,” you explained.

Jeff smiled again at the memory, before that smile slowly dropped to him just chewing his bottom lip in thought.

“Why?” he eventually asked.

You took a slow deep breath in as your heart started to bear just that little bit faster.

“Because we’re going to have a little baby of our own in about 7 months,” you said softly.

It was all you could do to keep your eyes on his face as his lips parted in shock, breathing shaky as your waited for him to say something, anything, and it was only when his shocked expression spread into the biggest grin you’d ever seen that your nerves settled.

“We’re going to have a baby? I’m going to be a dad?” he choked, that wide smile not shifting.

“Yeah, Jeff, you’re going to be a dad. We’re going to be parents,” you giggled.

Tears filled his eyes, only making tears spring to your eyes too, and Jeff wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. You just laughed, holding him back just as tightly, a happy giddy feeling filling your entire body. It had been one thing to go to your doctor earlier in the week due to feeling lethargic and nauseous, only to be told that you were 9 weeks pregnant, but for Jeff to be this happy about it? Bliss. Utter bliss.

“How far along are you? When did you find out?” Jeff asked, lifting his head to look at you properly again.

“Nearly 10 weeks now. I went to see my doctor earlier in the week because I was feeling funny and this was the result of the blood tests,” you explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he frowned.

Bless his heart.

“You were on your roadtrip up until two days ago, remember? Besides, if I felt awful then I would’ve told you but I didn’t think it was anything serious. Turns out I was wrong,” you mused.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jeff murmured, one hand rising to cup your face, “And yeah, having a baby is serious, but you’ve got me by your side all the way, okay? You have no idea how happy I am.”

Just hearing those words of comfort, of reassurance, fizzled away the last of your nerves, making you smile softly. This was everything you’d been hoping to hear since you found out the news, and hearing it from your boyfriend’s lips only made you even more excited to go on this journey with him.

“If you’re as happy as I am, then I think this is going to be one incredibly lucky baby,” you said, choking out a laugh as a couple of tears spilled down your cheeks.

Jeff just grinned, looking as giddy as you felt, and it was all you could do to take your turn in burying your face in his neck, Jeff just pressing gentle kisses wherever he could reach.

“We’re going to be the best parents ever. I can already feel it,” Jeff murmured, kissing the side of your head.

You just laughed, pressing a kiss of your own to his neck. If this was a sign of how things were going to go from here, then you knew things were going to be okay.

[typical-simplelove]

for the song blurbs 164 and jeff skinner thank you!

This is my first time writing for jeff Skinner, so hopefully, I did okay!

164. History by One Direction Claudia's Debut Season of Heartfirst Writing

Growing up across the street from each other meant that you and Jeff's childhoods were heavily intertwined. If someone would count the memories you had—ones that you could remember and ones that slipped away with time—they'd see that twice a week for almost eighteen years, you and Jeff were always doing something together.

You and Jeff had a whole lot of history because, at the end of the day, you were meant for each other.

One

One of six-year-old Jeff's favorite things was playing mini-sticks or soccer with you after school. Almost three times a week, after dinner, around 7pm each night, and before he showered, Jeff would ask his mother to call your mother to ask if you could play with him that night. The times that your mother would say yes, Jeff would run across the street (making sure no cars were coming) and would stand at your driveway, waiting for you to come out the front door with your runners on. It, for the most part, took you and Jeff five minutes to figure out what to do. The two of you normally alternated between the two sports mentioned previously, but this time, you wanted to do something different.

"Can we draw chalk on the driveway?" you ask. "I got some for my birthday a few months ago and because it's going to rain tomorrow, my mom said that we can use it if we want."

At first, Jeff was a bit upset because he liked playing soccer or mini-sticks with you. He always tried to let you win, but it seemed like you also let him win because how is it possible that someone is so bad at soccer or mini-sticks? But his mind didn't settle on that disappointment. You wanted to play with chalk, so that's what you'd be doing. Nodding, Jeff says yes, so you run back into your house to grab the chalk. It must have been sitting right by the door because you were out within a few seconds.

"I call the blue stick first," you say, pulling out the blue stick of chalk. You place the box on the driveway and start to draw your picture. You've been waiting for months for your mom to let you draw on the driveway, and now that you're able to, you can't wait.

As you're drawing, Jeff picks the yellow stick and starts to draw a sword, like the ones that make constant appearances in the fairytale books you bring to school and show Jeff.

You and Jeff spent the next hour drawing on the driveway and don't notice that it's getting dark. Soon, your mother calls out saying that she was going to walk Jeff back home in five minutes, so you two had to finish up your drawings.

"Let's write our names next to each other before you have to go back home," you suggest, so you and Jeff write your names. After you're done, you put the chalk back in the box and walk with your mother and Jeff back to his house.

It didn't end up raining the next day. The chalk on the driveway stayed for another three days before the rain washed it away.

Two

"Isn't it pretty?" you ask Jeff, holding up a blue key chain.

"I guess," Jeff says, his voice laced with the typical pre-teen angst.

You got back from visiting some family in North Carolina for spring break. You got back earlier that day and were showing Jeff a few of the things you brought back.

"I got you this shirt," you say, holding up a red and white t-shirt. "I didn't know your size, so I figured a medium would be good, and if not, then you'll grow into it."

Blushing, Jeff takes the shirt from you and examines it. "Let me try it on." He proceeds to take off his shirt and put the one you got for him on. "I think it fits. Thank you so much!"

You smile. "I'm glad you like it."

Jeff still has that shirt sitting in his drawer.

Three

"Don't you think they're all kind of cheesy?" Jeff asks, taking a bite of a cookie. "Like, it's the same thing over and over again. Two people meet, fall in love, have some kind of miscommunication, and then realize they both love each other and kiss."

You roll your eyes as you wipe off the rest of your makeup. It was a few hours after your birthday celebration ended. For your sixteenth birthday, your parents threw a small get-together with some close family and friends. Really, though it was Jeff, his family, your parents, your grandparents, your cousins, your aunts and uncles, and maybe two other people from school. If it were just a small thing with your family and the Skinners, you wouldn't have minded that either.

"That's why I love them so much," you explain. "The whole purpose of a rom-com is to fill your heart with joy and love regardless of the ridiculousness of the situation."

"So you do think they're ridiculous," Jeff teases.

"A good ridiculous," you counter. "Whatever just pick one, or I will."

"I'm not picking a rom-com," Jeff whines.

"I think you should be grateful that you have a choice, and I'm not pulling the birthday card to get my choice."

"How about, as my second gift to you, I let you pick a movie to watch after I got home."

"I vote the Notebook," you say, getting up and putting the DVD in the machine. Jeff rolls his eyes.

"There's no such thing as soulmates or the perfect person for you," he adds, and at that, you roll your eyes.

Fifty-year-old Jeff wishes he could smack sixteen-year-old Jeff for that comment, especially saying that comment to his future spouse.

One

"Is it just me or did this block get smaller?" you question as you pull up to your childhood home's driveway. It was the All-Star break, and you and Jeff made the trip back home to visit your families. The one good thing about you and Jeff growing up across the street from each other was that there was no argument about where to spend long weekends and holidays because it was the same place.

"I mean, we are in our thirties now," Jeff points out, and you pretend to gag. He laughs at you as he turns off the car and makes his way out. "Don't forget to hide your left hand. Let's see how long it takes for them to realize the ring."

Glancing down at your hand, you smirk at the little plan the two of you have. Jeff proposed two months ago, but neither of you has told anyone about the engagement. You were waiting to see your families in person, but when neither was able to make it to Buffalo, you decided just to wait a bit longer. Now, you and Jeff are playing a game of how obvious but also inconspicuous you could be with your engagement ring.

"Who's mother do you think will faint?" you ask, a laugh on the cusp of your throat.

"Oh, mine most definitely," Jeff says. "She's been hounding to get married to you for the past twelve years."

"Well, I guess she's finally getting her wish."

If someone told six-year-old you that you'd be marrying your childhood best friend, you'd laugh in their face, but now, you have something else to add to your history with Jeff.

Claudia's Debut Season of Heartfirst Writing (requests are open!)

[honeyeyesworld]

Snow day|| Jack Quinn

(None of the pictures are mine!!! Credits to the original owners 🫶)

Yourusername

Liked by: kennedyclairewalsh, tommer97 and more

Yourusername: And the snow day begins ❄️

(Ofc featuring my boyfriends boyfriends 🙄)

Tagged: jackquinn19

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dlevi_33: Still can’t believe you pushed Owen 🤣

↪️ Yourusername: he deserved it 🤝

User1: the snowmen 😂

jackquinn19: I love you snow much 💙☃️

↪️ owenpower_: 🤢

User4: the last slide Jack carried her 😭

↪️ user3: right 😭

User5: I just want to know what’s going on in the third slide 😭😭

jackquinn19: want to come over and make more snow angels…in bed 😏

↪️Yourusername: JACK (I’m on my way) 🫣

↪️ owenpower_: MY EYES

↪️: jj.peterka: 🤢🤢🤢

alextuch89: had a great time babysitting you guys!

dylan.cozens: let’s do it again next week 🤝

↪️ Yourusername: I hope the snow reminded you of home 🎅🎄🦌

↪️ dylan.cozens: I am NOT from the North Pole 😐

jackquinn19

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jackquinn19: when life gives you snow make snow angels 😏

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jj.peterka: I can’t look at you the same 🤢

User9: this is so cute 😭

Yourusername: Are you a snowball?? Because I bet you’ll melt in my hands…or mouth 🤭

↪️ dylan.cozens: please stop 🛑

↪️ jackquinn19: 😏😏

User10: ❤️

buffalosabers: ❄️☃️

[nhl-stories]

To celebrate Pride Month I wanted to compiled a list of fics featuring queer characters. Because if this sport won't be as accepting as we want it to be we'll make it queerer ourselves

This is very much a non-exhaustive list and if you have a fic to add to the list please send my way!

• Serotonin - Cale Makar x Non-binary OC

• Them - Jakob Chychrun x Non-Binary OC

• Gotta Trust How You Feel Inside - Jeff Skinner x Non-Binary OC

• Hydrangeas Where Your Face Should Be - Dougie Hamilton x Trans OC

• You Stupid Bitch - Leon Draisaitl x Pansexual OC

• Fool's Holiday - Dougie Hamilton x Bisexual OC

• Until the Light Shines Through - Quinn Hughes x Bisexual OC

• Matthew Tkachuk x Bisexual Female Reader

• Think I Could Love You- Zach Aston-Reese x Asexual OC

Fics that feature queer side characters (because otherwise this list might be wayyy too short):

* Capricious- Brandon Tanev feat Drag queen gay couple

[cuttergauthier]

Who I Write For

Hey everyone this is a list of who I write for.

If you have someone else in mind, send me an ask and i’ll let you know if i want to write for him. I’m not picky

Also if anyone would want me to start an AU let me know!

How to request

I DO NOT WRITE SMUT

New jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

Nathan Bastian

Dawson Mercer

Luke Hughes

Nico Hischier

Timo Meier

Brendan Smith

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

Brock Boeser

Elias Pettersson

Cole McWard

Anthony Beauvillier

Dakota Joshua

Toronto Maple Leafs

Mitch Marner

Auston Matthews

William Nylander

Matthew Knies

Morgan Reilly

Buffalo Sabres

Owen Powers

Tyson Jost

Devon Levi

Erik Johnson

Jeff Skinner

Tage Thompson

Dylan Cozens

Casey Mittelstadt

Carolina Hurricanes

Michael Bunting

Andrei Svechnikov

Jack Drury

Pittsburgh Penguins

Pierre-Oliver Joseph

Ryan Graves

Ty Smith

Columbus Blue Jackets

Nick Blankenburg

Kent Johnson

Cole Sillinger

Adam Boqvist

Zach Werenski

Adam Fantilli

Vegas Golden Knights

Brendan Brisson

San Jose Sharks

Thomas Bordeleau

Tristen Robins

William Eklund

Henry Thrun

Luke Kunin

Anaheim Ducks

Trevor Zegras

Mason McTavish

John Gibson

Frank Vatrano

St Louis Blues

Jake Neighbours

Colton Parayko

Ottawa Senators

Josh Norris

Brady Tkachuk

Mathieu Joseph

Jakob Chychrun

Zack MacEwen

Tim Stutzle

Thomas Chabot

Minnesota Wilds

Matt Boldy

Brock Faber

Brandon Duhaime

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte

Quinn Byfield

Brandt Clarke

Pierre Luc Dubois

Alex Laferriere

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Sam Bennett

Mackie Samoskevich

William Lockwood

Aaron Ekblad

Josh Mahura

Brandon Montour

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

Bowen Byram

Nate Mackinnon

Miles Wood

Detroit Red Wings

J.T. Compher

Dylan Larkin

Joe Veleno

Jake Walman

Boston Bruins

Mason Lohrei

Johnny Beecher

Jeremy Swayman

Jake Debrusk

Charlie Mcavoy

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

Arber Xhekaj

Kirby Dach

Christian Dvorak

Alex Newhook

New York Islanders

Noah Dobson

Mat Barzal

Philadelphia Flyers

Morgan Frost

Cam York

Jamie Drysdale

Joe Farabee

Tyson Foerster

Noah Cates

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafrenière

Adam Fox

K’Andre Miller

Braden Schneider

Chris Kreider

Zac Jones

Arizona Coyotes

Logan Cooley

Dylan Guenther

Clayton Keller

Nick Schmaltz

Chicago Blackhawks

Lukas Reichel

Seth Jones

Alex Vlasic

Connor Bedard

Tampa Bay Lightnings

Brandon Hagel

Anthony Cirelli

Seattle Kraken

Brandon Tanev

Jamie Oleksiak

Philipp Grubauer

Will Borgen

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

Jake Oettinger

Rope Hintz

Craig Smith

University of Michigan

Luca Fantili

Rutger McGroarty

Nick Moldenhauer

Phil Lapointe

Jacob Truscott

Tyler Duke

Marshall Warren

Frank Nezar

Ethan Edwards

Michigan State University

Red Savage

Isaac Howard

Maxim Štrbák

Ohio State University

Joe Dunlap

Cam Thiesing

Davis Burnside

Caden Brown

Matt Cassidy

Minnesota University

Luke Mittelstadt

Jimmy Snuggerud

Ryan Chesley

Oliver Moore

Brody Lamb

Boston College

Cutter Gauthier

Will Smith

Ryan Leonard

Gabe Perreault

Drew Fortescue

Jacob Fowler

Will Vote

University of Wisconsin

Cruz Lucius

Charlie Stramel

Zach Schulz

Random Teams

Nick Granowicz

Jay Keranen

Colton Dach

Nathan Gaucher

+ more

AU’s 

Nick Granowicz x Msu Reader

Josh Norris x Tkachuk sister

Trevor Zegras x Hughes sister

Cutter Gauthier x Hughes sister

Matthew Knies x Matthews sister

Jack Hughes x Mercer au

[wyattjohnston]

Free Field: What do you want to see more of in general?

if you are in a player tag and see this please scroll past, i'm sorry

Please read this in conjunction with the rest of the results.

Friends to Lovers – 9 People

Player Diversity – 8 people

Older players! (4)

Main Character Diversity – 8 People

POC main characters

Non-binary main characters

Masc readers! (2!)

Gender neutral readers

Formatting – 7 People

Read Mores

Summaries

Word Counts

Alternating POVs

More Dialogue

AUs – 7 people

Royalty AU

College AU

Soulmate AUs

Specific Players - 7 People

Arber Xhekaj

Brandon Hagel

Jeff Skinner

John Marino

Sidney Crosby

Teuvo Teravainen

UMich Players

Fluff – 6 people

Smut – 6 People

Threesomes

Strangers to Lovers – 5

Longer fics – 4 people

Chaptered fic

Hurt/Comfort – 4 People

OCs – 3 people

Angst – 3 People

Pregnancy – 3 People

Surprise pregnancy

Realism – 3 People

Including taking the time to learn a City and it’s geography/culture

Fake Dating – 2 People

Enemies to Lovers – 2 People

Found Family – 2 People

Kids/Babies – 2 People

MC Is Hockey Player - 2 People

The following were said by 1 person

Angst With A Happy Ending

Canes

Career Women

Chaptered Fics

Cheating

Childhood Friends To Lovers

Domesticity

Established Relationships

Exes To Lovers

Familial

Famous Reader

Florida Panthers

Forced Proximity

Friends With Benefits To Lovers

Geography

Grumpy X Sunshine

Habs

Holiday Diversity

Insta Edits

Love At First Sight

Love Triangle

Married Life X Kids

Meet Cute

Miscommunication

Only One Bed

Player Falls First

Princess Reader

Rivals To Lovers

Secret Relationships

Song-Based Fics

player using nicknames in their dialogue over “y/n” (baby/sweetheart/love)

if an author has an old work they and other people love would love a revisit especially if a player has since been traded or injured or even retired love to see where old relationships have gone in a one shot

I would love to see fics break away from the mould of traditional romance novels! I'm not a fan of third act breakups or other unnecessary issues for the sake of plot, and I think there are a lot of ways to write a good story without those elements and would love to see the creativity that comes from exploring alternatives!!

Angst and make-ups that don’t end in sex. I like that there’s other ways to makeup. Also good communication!! As someone who has never been in a relationship, good communication is great for me to like start to understand what a healthy relationship could look like

would love to see more enemies to lovers without someone being embarrassed or humiliated so I guess more rivals to lovers where there's a mutual respect but you still don't like them until one key moment, friendship dynamics with the other players on the li team, moving to a new city and meeting the player by happenstance in like a grocery store or coffee shop, soc-med team x player, first person they meet outside their organization after being traded

[matthewtkachuk]

if i showed up on your doorstep at 2 am, would you slam the door in my face or invite me in - jeff skinner

Despite a decades long friendship, the revelation that your best friend Jeff loved you resulted in you moving home and cutting him off completely. Two years later you show up on his doorstep.

pairing: jeff skinner x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol

word count: 9k

a/n: y'all made me do it. special thanks to everyone who read this on google docs and gave their opinion on the perfume they wear

It’s a two hour drive from Markham to Buffalo.

Jeff knows this because he’s made the drive plenty of times - for family dinners and his mom’s birthday and celebratory drinks when Jill got her first job out of college.

He also knows this because that’s how far away you are physically, but mentally and emotionally you’re oceans away.

Best friends from an early age, you were an honorary Skinner before you could even read. They loved you like you were family, and you loved them that fiercely in return. Well, almost all of them. You and Jeff had always had a special bond, far beyond that of any of his other siblings or your own. A bond so special you had no problem following him to Carolina when he was drafted.

Things had broken down spectacularly in Carolina, a string of miscommunications and hurt feelings snowballing until not a single scrap of your friendship remained. Words were exchanged, shouted and screamed and sobbed, and then silence. The only sound after was the click of the door that you shut behind you.

Last he heard you were well on your way to becoming someone else’s wife.

It’s not the same guy you had been dating when things fell apart in your friendship. No, you’d cut that one loose when you fled for the familiarity of home. Nick was someone you’d both grown up with, part of your friend group but never able to breach the inner circle that was you and Jeff. Until you’d shown up broken-hearted in your hometown and ran into him down Main Street.

Jeff’s got a lot of regrets - missed shots and unnecessary penalty minutes, the doubt that creeps in when he’s in the middle of a scoring drought - but his biggest regret is letting you slip through his fingers. Because for as long as Jeff can remember, it’s always been you. Even when he didn’t know it, even when girls had cooties, even when he was still denying it himself, it’s always been you.

It’s too bad that for you, it wasn’t Jeff.

That’s about where things broke down in the kitchen of the home you shared in Raleigh. It was the same old story - the guy you had been seeing had been treating you wrong. Ignoring your messages for days, breaking plans and just overall acting shady. Out of concern for you, and with the unofficial support of a few friends you’d made out there, he’d cornered you in that kitchen to tell you that you deserved more.

He’d been right, of course, but the confrontation had sparked your fight or flight. As someone who’d never ran from a fight or adversity before, you’d dug your heels into the ground and raised your fists.

It was then, in the midst of a terrible fight that you’d realized the truth. Your friendship with Jeff was built on a lie. Because as much as you had always thought he respected you as a friend and as a person, Jeff had spent the entirety of your friendship halfway in love with you.

Fear gripping your heart and entirely on edge, you’d laughed. You’d laughed and absolutely destroyed him. More words were exchanged between the two of you and then nothing. Words you’d never take back, words he desperately wished he could.

A lifetime of friendship gone in the blink of an eye and he still didn’t know how it happened. He’d gone over it a hundred different times in a hundred different ways and he still didn’t understand it. How he’d wanted all of you, but settled for most of you. How he didn’t even have some of you anymore, how he really had none of you now.

How he had to hear thirdhand from his sister who heard from your brother that you were now sporting an expensive ring on your left hand from a guy who used to put gum in your hair.

He supposes it’s a cute story, a real lifetime original movie of a romance.

He realizes he probably won’t even get to see a wedding picture.

Buffalo was an easy choice when his contract ended and your perfume no longer lingered in his home.

He’s happy here - a lot closer to his family, and the guys on the team are a good bunch. They’re struggling, and he’s not putting up the numbers he all but promised when he signed his name on the dotted line, but they’re working hard and he’s optimistic.

There’s only one real other downside here.

You’re a two hour drive away, but you’ve never been so mentally and emotionally far away.

-

Two hours away, your life isn’t the picture perfect made for TV movie romance it appears to be. Sure, you’ve got the ring and the guy and the condo with the great view. You’ve got an okay job and your parents are proud of you, except... Except. Except. Except.

Except the metal of the ring is a gaudy yellow gold, when silver has been your preferred style since junior high. Except the condo with the great view doesn’t even have your name on the lease. Except your okay job is slowly killing you, your boss is a dick and your coworkers talk shit about you behind your back and you feel like you’re wasting your degree with menial tasks.

Except the guy isn’t who you thought he was, hell he’s not even who he was only a few short months ago before he put the lurid ring on your finger after a proposal that was far too public for your liking. Nick had been so attentive and sweet, reeling you in with honeyed compliments and promises, dates where time felt like it hadn’t passed at all yet like you’d lived a hundred lives together. Now, Nick paid more attention to the television or his secretary or his phone than you.

Once, Nick had been a cold beer on the patio kind of guy. Now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had spent more than five minutes with him sober.

He didn’t hit you, he didn’t cheat on you, he didn’t belittle you. It also felt like he didn’t love you.

The pressure is stifling, the weight of your burdens suffocating. The ring on your hand and the promise on your tongue are leaden and heavy. Every day you wake up and wonder if you’re making a mistake. Every day you wake up and think about how all you’ve ever done in your life is make mistakes.

Except Jeff.

Until you’d made a mistake there, too.

When you let your fears and anxieties dictate your behavior. When you’d ran at the first sign of trouble. When you’d used his feelings as a scapegoat, pushing and pulling and gnawing at that hurt in your chest rather than acknowledge your own hidden feelings beside it.

Nick shifts in bed beside you, limbs half hanging off the edge of the bed in an attempt to keep as much distance between you as possible. At least, that’s what it feels like. Once, you’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Once, you sought out each other’s familiar warmth at night. Once, you’d woken up limbs as entangled as your hearts and souls.

The clock on your nightstand reads midnight, but it could be any time and no time at all as far as you’re concerned. You slip from bed and pull on a hoodie. It’s old and faded and Jeff’s. Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror you search for even a fraction of who you used to be, a hint of the girl you used to see reflected back at you. She’s not there.

But you can try and find her again.

Quietly, you pack a bag and write a note in your sloped handwriting with a blue pen on the back of a takeout menu. Gently, you place the yellow gold ring beside it and slip out into the night.

-

Carolina is warm. Like your mother’s embrace, like your niece’s laughter, like Jeff’s smile. Many people told you that you would regret following him out here, but you didn’t think you ever would. Because alongside seeing your best friend on a near daily basis, you’d also accumulated a solid group of friends with your best interests at heart, and you’d even found yourself someone to love the way you always wanted.

If that desire to love and be loved in return blinded you to the reality of your relationship, that was between you and him as far as you were concerned. Even as your friends grew worried, you brushed off their concerns and made excuses. He’s just working late, he’s just busy, he lost track of time. They let it go, let you sit in your own delusions of grandeur as you live in Jeff’s apartment and date someone who doesn’t deserve you and on and on.

Until Jeff can’t anymore.

Until you’re sitting on your shared couch with your makeup done just right, the pretty little black dress you’d been planning on wearing safely tucked back in your closet, and the most melancholy expression on your face.

It breaks Jeff’s heart, really it does. And not only because he’s been in love with you since before he knew there was a name for what he was feeling in his chest, but because you’re his best friend and you deserve a lot more than some broken promises and empty words. He bites his tongue through the entirety of a Leafs game you’d insisted the two of you watch together, even as your voice was barren of all emotion.

But then the game is over, and you’re moving robotically through the kitchen, movement broken and hindered just as your spirit is and suddenly Jeff can’t hold it in anymore.

“You can’t keep letting him do it to you.” It’s blurted and messy, but it does it’s job, the words shaking you from your emotional zombie like state.

“What are you talking about?” You try to deflect, try to answer him with a question, try to ignore the pit growing in your stomach.

Unfortunately for you, Jeff knows you better than probably any other person on the planet, and certainly better than anyone in Carolina. “He treats you like shit and you just let him.”

“What am I supposed to do? Break up with him?” You scoff, “I love him Jeff! So what if he misses date night now and then or doesn’t always answer when I call? I love him!”

He turns on you quickly, desperation swimming in his eyes. He wants to tell you everything. Wants to wrap you up in his arms and love you right. But that’s not who you are and that’s not what you do, so instead he tries to get you to see reason. “Do you? Or are you just so blinded by your desire to be loved that you can’t see that he’s not good enough for you?”

It stings because you know he’s right. Deep down, you know you deserve more than half baked apologies and a derelict of a boyfriend. But you also fear that this might be it, your only shot at that happiness. So what if your boyfriend isn’t perfect. Show you a guy who is? For a moment you stare at Jeff, but that just brings on another wave of fear and anxiety and so you shout. “Oh and who is good enough for me huh? Please tell me I am so curious to know.”

It’s silent then as your words sink in all around you both. They twist and turn and curl around you, cutting you off from Jeff as it hits you.

Oh.

Oh.

He feels it too, your sudden realization and it’s terrifying. It’s terrifying and scary and every other adjective out there to have his heart ripped from his chest and beating on the kitchen island for you to finally, really and truly, see.

And then you laugh. It’s not the laughter that he loves to hear, not the sweet giggle turned into gasping howls when you find amusement in something beautiful the world has to offer. It’s maniacal and hysterical and just fucking cruel as you gaze on his vulnerability and laugh.

He feels his heart break, feels it absolutely shatter as you pack your shit and go. Feels it as you sweep up the fractured pieces and deposit them directly in the trash.

It’s silent when you finally leave, no trace of your laughter remaining.

You don’t look back.

-

His phone reads 2 am when Jeff rolls over in bed to check it. For a moment he’s confused, disoriented and dazed as he tries to figure out what has woken him. And then he hears the frantic knocking at his front door. He gets up quickly, pulling on a pair of sweatpants in case it’s sweet Mrs. Higgins at the door. It wouldn’t be the first time she knocked on his door, but never this early in the morning. The thought of it potentially being some emergency has his movements quickening, hastened by the thought of something terrible wrong.

Except, instead of the sweet elderly lady who lives across the hall, it’s you in a pair of athletic shorts and a sweater of his he hadn’t seen since you left.

Maybe it’s stupid, but he thought you would look different. You don’t, though. Your hair is the same tone it’s always been, framing your face the way it always has. Even the sight of you in his hoodie is familiar, even as it warms him from the inside out. If he didn’t know better, didn’t have months and months of angst and pining and regret, he could almost pretend he was back in Carolina and you were still oblivious to the way you held his heart in your hands.

Almost.

Because alongside the warmth and the desire to pull you into his arms is the quiet devastation of your laughter and the thought of the large ring you should be wearing on your left hand. Jeff’s never been the kind of guy who could school his emotions, his grin too bright and uncontrollable like the sun rising in the east. Contrarily, every negative emotion rolls across his face more akin to large storm clouds rolling over the horizon. Now, confusion is written clear as day in the lines of his face as his eyes focus on the tan line in lieu of an engagement ring.

The silence is almost as stifling as the thought of the future you had been building. You don’t know what to say though, no words seeming big enough to fully encapsulate all you’re feeling. Truth be told, you don’t have a good reason for showing up here at two in the morning on his doorstep. There really isn’t a good reason. You don’t have a script carefully created, or a detailed pro con list, or a venn diagram showing the intersectionality of past and future and present.

He looks good, even if the expression on his face is more akin to shock than joy, even if he kinda looks like he could cry, even if you feel like you’re about to. You miss him. He’s right fucking there and you miss him. It’s been a dull ache in your chest in the past two years, but now the pain is sharp and shooting, radiating from the top of your head to your toes. Even just being here, in his presence, it’s like finally coming up for air after being stuck at the bottom of a swimming pool. Oxygen floods your lungs for the first time in months, a fog lifts from your mind, but the dark cloud remains shrouding you both. Because it’s still silent, and you’re itching to run.

To him, from him, into his arms, back into the night. You’re not entirely sure, but the urge is there all the same. Something deep within you calls to him, but something a lot closer to the surface is screaming at you to go. You shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have left Nick, certainly shouldn’t have driven two hours in the middle of the night.

But then he’s opening his arms and you fall right into them, like you were meant to do it all along. You fit like two puzzle pieces, even if the picture they’re part of is faded and worn, even if the edges are bent and torn, even if it takes a little wiggling to get them to fit together just right.

“How did we get here?” you blurt stupidly, the filter between your brain and your mouth nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t immediately react, not verbally at least, but you feel him stiffen all around you. Very carefully, he pulls back from you, a near unreadable expression on his face. The way his eyebrows have come together in the middle of his face tells you he’s upset. The lack of a smile only further validates the thought. “I mean- That’s not what I wanted to say-”

You see the internal struggle play out on his face through the scrunching of his nose, the twitching of his jaw. Finally, he settles on something simple. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know Jeff,” you sigh in return. It’s not the right thing, not even close. You know that before he reacts, but you still wince at the look he gives you. It’s broken, desperate, practically begging for you to lay your cards out on the table.

“That’s bullshit,” he replies, uttering your name. “Tell me the truth, what are you doing here at an apartment you’ve never been to in the middle of the night without your engagement ring? Huh?”

“Jeff-”

“Tell me the truth, please.” He’s not so much angry as he is hurt, and confused. Scared too, that you’re about to run off on him again but he can’t just sit here and let you pretend like you have no idea what possessed you to drive two hours to him in the middle of the night. “Not a word out of you in two years, and then you just show up here. Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Jeff, okay? I don’t know! I don’t know if I’m still engaged, I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to reach out-” It’s not exactly true, but you’re not lying either. You’re not being purposefully deceitful, but the two hour drive hadn’t given you the clarity you’d hoped you’d find before ending up here.

“Are we just not going to talk about it?” He doesn’t have to elaborate further, despite your clear desire to ignore the fight that wrecked you both, it weighs as heavily on you as it does him. It kills you to think he doesn’t see that. As if he couldn’t see how destroyed you were by the thought of your life moving on without him in any capacity.

“I don’t- I don’t think there’s anything to talk about that other than what has already been said,” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice neutral. You cringe as you watch the anger light within him, the struck match finding the kerosene soaked rag you’d left behind.

“Jesus, you’re acting like I did something wrong. Like- Like I’d destroyed some precious family heirloom or kissed your sister something. Stop deflecting, my only crime was in loving you.” And there it is again, although this time spelled out a lot more clearly.

Love.

Jeff loved you.

Like, romantic, two and a half kids and a dog and a big house in the suburbs love. And you didn’t love Jeff like that, don’t love Jeff like that. Right?

He continues, taking your silence as an invitation to further the conversation, but it feels a lot more like a talking to than anything. “I never asked for anything from you. Ever. In the twenty some years of our friendship, I never asked you to want me or love me back. I never even told you that I loved you. You figured it out and you laughed at me and you ran. And then I didn’t hear from you for two years. I had to find out from my sister who found out from your brother that you were engaged to that dick who used to tease you in elementary school. So cut the shit, why are you here?”

It’s not unfair, the words and accusations he levels at you. It’s not unfair and it’s not untruthful and it’s certainly not uncalled for. It still makes tears spring to your eyes, makes your hand and bottom lip shake. “This was a mistake,” you spit out quickly and hastily make your retreat, wiping at your cheekbones with the heels of your hands. Jeff is quick to swear and utter your name, but you don’t stop.

He curses as he slams the door shut behind you. Although a very large part of him wants to rip the door open and chase after you, he doesn’t think “NHL forward chases girl in apartment building” is the kind of headline he wants his name attached to. He also knows you’re not in the proper state of mind for any confrontation or conversation for that matter. You’re so frustratingly deep inside your own head, you can’t see the forest for the trees.

It’s true, he’s never asked you for a damn thing in the entirety of your friendship, always willing to give and give and give. It’s you who had been so happy to take and take and take. His limited time, his attention, his energy, his smiles reserved specially for you, his hairbrained advice and his outstretched hand. Even in the deepest throes of his love for you, he never expected you to reciprocate or even acknowledge it. He was content to be your best friend for the rest of your lives, quietly resigned to sit at your right hand through thick and thin. For your happiness, he was ready to watch as you found love elsewhere, as you built a future with someone who wasn’t him. Because a future with you, even if he could never have you exactly the way he wanted you was more than worth it.

Until you’d taken his feelings and thrown them right back at him.

It’s near 3 am now, and he knows his best course of action is to get back into bed, try and get some sleep. After all, in the morning he’s got a two hour drive.

-

You cry the entire way home, barely managing to pull yourself together enough to cross at the border without causing some sort of international incident. It’s late when you pull into the driveway of your childhood home. Despite your best efforts to quietly slip into the house after finding the spare key tucked in its usual hiding spot, your mom is flicking on the light to the kitchen and calling your name with confusion laced alongside the exhaustion in her tone.

Collapsing into her arms you tell her everything. From the fight two years ago to the one only two hours ago. There’s not a single detail you don’t include, well except for one. Being the remarkable woman you know her to be, she manages to pull it out of you anyway with a simple question. “Are you in love with him too?”

“It’s not that simple,” you reply carefully, but the look she gives you is so knowing it makes your stomach twist.

“It could be,” she says knowingly and it’s only slightly more annoying at twenty something years old than it was when you were in high school. The look is the same and her tone is the same, and if you’re really being honest, even the boy is the same. It’s been Jeff at the forefront of your mind and on the front step of this house and in the frame of every picture on the mantel. Always Jeff holding your hand in one of his while the other held so delicately onto your heart. Always something more just barely out of reach, on the peripheral of your vision if only you would smarten up and grasp it.

“It can’t,” finally leaves your lips, voice broken in a way that only the weight of your own actions can. Your mother knows you better than almost any other person on the planet, a consequence of knowing you for every single second of your existence, and so she knows when it’s time to surrender the battle in order to win the war. She pulls you in for a tight hug, her embrace more calming and soothing than any natural ailment cure in the world before she goes back to bed, shutting the light off as she goes.

The couch isn’t the most comfortable, nothing like the faded leather sectional that Jeff had in your apartment in Raleigh. Your bedroom became an office two weeks after you left for college, and the spare room more likely than not was covered in random items that your parents hadn’t had the time to put away. The blanket you wrap yourself in is familiar, a patchwork quilt gifted to your family by your grandmother. You know if you were to look through the photos on display this very quilt would feature in multiple of the ones of you and Jeff.

It’s a comforting thought as you drift to sleep, so close to the sweet rest of unconsciousness when your phone buzzes once, then twice. Suddenly the vibration pattern indicates there’s a phone call coming through. You ignore it, turning onto your side so that your face is smushed into the back of the couch, willing whoever it is to give up. Your phone buzzes signifying the caller left a voicemail before the familiar pattern begins again. Who in the world would be calling you at 5 in the morning?

You shoot up, quilt falling to the floor as you consider it might be Jeff. There’s a large part of you that feels terrible for the way your stomach sinks as Nick’s photo lights up your screen. So he woke up and found you gone. You flick up the screen, simultaneously unlocking the phone and silencing the vibration to see several unread messages. They’re in varying degrees of panic, wondering where you are, wondering why you’d left behind your ring.

It’s late and you’re tired, so tired of being sad and lonely and unhappy that you turn your phone to do not disturb and get some sleep.

-

In hindsight Jeff should have known better than to jinx himself the way he had as your door swings open to reveal your mom. He doesn’t want to do the small talk thing, not when your car is in the driveway and he can see your coat hanging on the hook just behind the open door. “Hey, mom,” he speaks softly, mouth upturned in some sort of smile-grimace hybrid gesture. “Is she here?”

“It’s good to see you Jeff,” she says by way of greeting instead, “Why don’t you come inside?”

Your head perks up at the mention of his name, every sad curve of your body screaming with your regret. There’s barely a moment’s pause before you’re launching off the couch and into his arms. He’s not prepared for it, having spent the entirety of the drive rehearsing his apology, practicing the words he would say to convince you to let him back into your life. There aren’t words to describe how right it feels to have his arms wrapped tightly around you, to be so completely surrounded and encapsulated by all that is his large presence. If you had to try though, there’s only one word that comes close to portraying it all: home.

Jeff’s arm’s are the greatest home you’ve ever known, far beyond that of the four walls surrounding you, or the neighborhood or even the city itself. He was always your safe space, your soft spot to land, the one place you could always turn no matter the circumstances. Until he wasn’t. Until you couldn’t.

It could have been two seconds, two minutes, two hours or two years - simultaneously the longest moment and the shortest breath as you stood with him on the precipice of your childhood home. You’re not entirely sure when your mom snuck away, but she’s not lingering as you finally pull from him. “I’m sorry,” you both blurt out at the same time.

“I’m sorry I keep running.” It’s a tough admission to make, to admit that at least that much is definitively your fault. Other parts of the friendship breakdown are your burdens to carry, too - your reactions, your inappropriate laughter and hasty retreat, the two years of cut off communication at your continued behest.

But you’re not alone in your ownership here, either. Jeff all but confirms it with a quiet “I’m sorry I never told you. But look at your reaction and tell me I didn’t have a good reason to keep it to myself.”

And again and again the blame shifts back to you, because you were callous and cold in your recoil, because you were the unreasonable one, because his crime had been only what he said - in loving you behind your back.

“I don’t want to play the blame game,” he sighs finally, the quiet, lingering hurt written across the planes of your face so clear to see, cutting him just as much as it pains you. “I just want my best friend.”

There’s more he wants, of course. If he’s really and truly honest with himself he wants your love, too. He’s got some of it, certainly, obvious in the way you look at him and the way your body so perfectly curves around his own. It’s in nights past, sleepovers and secrets and swimming pools. It’s some of you, but not all of you.

It’s not the way you look first thing in the morning, sleep heavy on your eyelids and a desire for coffee running through your veins. It’s not the little black dress picked out just for him, or your heels in his hand as he gives you a piggyback ride home, or locked limbs on the sofa while you watch a romantic comedy on netflix.

It’s not all of you, and there’s never been so clearly poignant a reminder as your fiance - boyfriend? ex? acquaintance? - Nick bursting through your front door and setting fire to any goodwill that you’d managed to build together. It’s so startling a reminder, Jeff feels it like a punch to the gut, the despair of never knowing what it’s like to have all your love swirling and turning.

“I’m gonna go.” You want to reach for him, but something about his body language screams that he would only dodge your advance and so you keep your hands to yourself, eyes darting wildly between the two men.

“Jeff-”

He says your name so sweetly, if it weren’t for the look on his face you might not even know something was wrong, and then repeats himself. “I’m gonna go. I think there’s a conversation you need to be having and it’s more important than the one we’re having.”

Jeff leaves without another word and it’s like he took a piece of you with him, as you stand in your living room without a single thing to say to the man in front of you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Nick breaks the silence first, and your shoulders deflate at the thought of it all. How do you explain to him that you just truly don’t know what you want anymore? You’re so confused by everything, betrayed by your own past and your own feelings, you’re not sure of anything. Well, anything except the fact that you can’t marry him. He pulls the ring out of his pocket, idly twisting and turning and spinning the metal object in his grasp as the quiet surrounds you both.

He doesn’t get angry and for that you’re grateful, you’re not sure you have it in you to fight like that, not so soon after last night with Jeff. “It’s not like that-”

“Then what’s it like, because from where I’m sitting I woke up alone, with your ring and a shitty apology scribbled on a pizza delivery menu, and now you’re here with someone you said you hadn’t spoken to in years.”

And yeah, it looks bad because it is bad, but it’s not bad in the way he’s thinking. “I hadn’t! It’s not- I just-” You have to stop, pausing to catch your breath and let your brain catch up to your mouth. “Do you love me?” you ask, finally.

The three second pause tells you more than he ever could.

You’re not sure what Nick thought he would be walking into, or what he had hoped to accomplish by showing up here. You don’t think reciprocal apologies, a tight hug with a lingering kiss pressed to a cheek and that god awful ring back in his pocket comes even close, but that’s what you leave each other with.

-

You don’t tell Jeff about what transpired in your living room after he left, and he never asks. He has plenty of opportunity to ask, though, between your daily texts and calls that come in every so often. It’s impossible to fall back into the friendship you’d so carefully curated all those years ago, too much baggage and dead weight in the way of it all, but it’s a start.

For Jeff, it’s just nice to hear about what’s going on in your life first hand, rather than to hear it from one of his sisters. He likes that he can call you after a bad game, hear your voice tell him things will be okay, that all hope isn’t lost just because he’s in a scoring rut. When they play in Toronto, he leaves you a couple tickets and pretends his heart doesn’t constrict at the sight of you in a jersey bearing his last name.

It’s nice, to have your best friend back in your life, to be able to turn to Jeff with your petty work drama or rant to him about the latest book you read after being recommended it on tik tok. You realize just how much you took for granted sharing an apartment with him, where he had been just down the hall when you needed him - whether it be a bad day, giant spider, wobbly bookcase, or any other number of things. The distance is only two hours, but fuck it feels like he’s on another continent.

It’s why you jump at the chance to head down to Buffalo for a long weekend, bags packed and mind open to all the possibilities that lay before you. You’ve had a few more conversations - with your mom, with your brother, with your best friend, with one of Jeff’s sisters - and you think you have a clearer picture of what you want. At the end of it all, what you want is Jeff, in whatever capacity you can have him in. The years without him were dark and cold, reminiscent of a harsh Canadian winter, but having him back in your life is like the first inkling of spring - green buds on trees and the sparkling gleam of melting snow. Jeff is the first breath of warming air, the bright sun rising and shining light on the world.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get enough to fill in that absence.

The reunion in Jeff’s apartment parking garage is sweet, a picturesque romantic comedy moment wherein you abandon your bags in favor of jumping into his outstretched arms. His grin is contagious, the way it splits his face wide open bringing a sense of pure elation to your system. There’s no excuse for the way you squeeze yourself around him, but you whisper “I missed you,” in his ear all the same.

He’s every bit the gentleman his mama raised, carting your heavy duffle bag with the practiced ease of a man who is constantly travelling without you having to ask. His hand briefly brushes your own as you walk side by side into his building, and as someone who has a lot of practice reading his emotions, you spot conflict and hesitance out of the corner of your eye. Taking matters into your own hands - literally - you link your hands together and don’t bother hiding your own growing smile.

You’re tired the first night you’re there, a cocktail of a disastrous week at work and the long two hour drive, and so dinner is Vietnamese, eaten on the same couch he’s had since his first year in the NHL, the very couch you had sat on the night things went to hell, the same couch you had napped on more times than you could count. For a moment it’s like you never left, like you’re sitting back in that apartment in Carolina. There’s a game on that neither of you pay attention to, and you’re definitely not sitting as close as you maybe once would have, but you could almost close your eyes and pretend.

You fall asleep with your feet in Jeff’s lap watching a movie that you couldn’t name a single actor or plot point in even if there was a gun to your head, and wake up tucked into the guest room without any recollection of even waking up. It’s the sun filtering in through the gap in the curtains, something you would have surely fixed had you not been beyond exhausted last night, and once you get up to fix it, you decide there’s no use in trying to sleep in further.

Jeff’s drinking a cup of coffee on the couch, the highlights playing with the volume down low, but his focus is more on his phone. He barely notices you sneak up on him until you’re practically on top of him, but he breaks out into a grin when he does. You swipe the mug from his hands, taking a sip and cringing at the ultra sweet taste. It’s comforting in a way even through the shock to your system, the knowledge that as much as things had changed in the past few years, he still had no restraint when it came to adding sugar and cream to his morning cup.

“So, you wanna see all the great things Buffalo has to offer?” Jeff asks with a grin while loading the dishwasher, waving off your attempts to help since he was the one who cooked, too.

You shrug nonchalantly, but you can’t stop the intrusive thought that pops in your head, the one that states you’d probably go anywhere he asked you to.

It turns out that seeing Buffalo is really just code for a trip to the zoo in the morning and early afternoon, bleeding into a quick trip to the falls. You’re a little distracted by the presence that is Jeff, coupled with the developing feelings you’ve been tripping over lately, and so you’re not as present as you’d like to be - taking a second too long to laugh at his jokes, flinching when your arms brush. You’re as quick witted as ever, though, managing to slip in a quip or two about how Niagara is better from the Canadian side alongside reminiscing about the time you’d both skipped school to take the bus to the zoo.

Jeff is nothing but kind and careful and sweet, so respectful and so cognizant of the invisible lines you’ve both drawn around you. He doesn’t take a single thing about you or your friendship for granted, and while it’s endearing, it’s also frustrating as hell that he doesn’t feel like he can just step into your space without a warning.

Dinner is a bit more of an intentional feat, meeting a few of his teammates and their girls downtown at a restaurant that has you critically picking at the rip in your jeans, but Jeff’s arm around you is grounding enough that you forget all about it before you’ve even received the drinks you ordered. His teammates are funnier than you’d previously given them credit for, and it’s another stark reminder of the way things used to be. Back in Carolina, it was more than given that you would accompany Jeff to nights out with the boys - regardless if their respective wives and girlfriends were included in the invite themselves or not.

It’s not an unfair sentiment to state that you probably had a drink or two more than you should have in polite company, but Jeff doesn’t mind. The just north of tipsy version of you is one of Jeff’s favorites - the weight of the world not so heavily on your shoulders, a near perma-grin on your face, your filter all but non existent.

Your voice is a touch too loud as you shout out goodbye to the boys and their better halves and let Jeff tuck you into the passenger seat of his car. Before he’s even moved around to his side, you’ve got your phone hooked up and are scrolling through spotify. It doesn’t even bother him that you don’t let a single song play in its entirety, skipping some four seconds in, some two minutes. All the while you’re chatting away about everything and nothing.

It’s not until you’re back in his apartment, face freshly washed and teeth brushed in your pajamas, that you let something a little more serious slip out of your mouth. Sliding over to him, it’s like you can’t pull yourself away from his energy, moving across the hardwood floor almost as if you were floating. “I missed you,” is what you speak into his chest, arms tightly wound around him.

He pulls back slightly to look you in your eyes, and for a moment you wonder if this is it. If this is the moment that your friendship has been building up to your entire lives. If this is where every hurt and every doubt and every anxiety is revealed to have been worth it, just a momentary pause on an important journey. But he just smiles in a way that makes you feel kind of sad and you don’t know why, before he’s kissing your forehead and bidding you goodnight.

-

Jeff’s gone for morning skate when you wake up, but there’s a still warm cinnamon bun from a local bakery alongside a note on the kitchen island. You relax all morning, making use of Jeff’s couch and hulu account. Few words are exchanged when he finally makes his way home, besides a murmured thank you as the two of you enjoy the lunch you cooked. His game day routine is pretty much exactly as you remember as he goes to take a quick nap after you’ve eaten.

You almost choke on your own spit when Jeff exits his bedroom again later, all dressed up in his game day best. The suit's new, you think, not one you remember from Carolina, and it fits him in all the right places. It’s the gentle way he startles, eyebrows rising as he offers you his water bottle that has your stomach flipping even harder. Shaking him off with a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk into the kitchen to give yourself some space, but Jeff’s never been very good at picking up on those non-verbal cues and so he follows you, crowding your space even further.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asks. When you nod, he smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling the way you’ve always admired. “I’ll leave you some cash for the cab, and then we can drive home together, okay?”

And it’s nothing special, no grand declaration of love, not like the ones before now. It’s no earth shattering revelation, no larger than life spectacle, no fireworks, no alternative indie soundtrack playing in the background. It’s just you. And it’s just Jeff. And it’s just everything he is.

Your best friend, your confidant, your shelter and your safe space to land.

Always so respectful of your boundaries, even as you threw every negative, hurtful word you could think of at him, even as you turned into nothing more than former friends turned strangers. And he’s just never asked for more, never demanded a thing from you, never expected more than you were willing to give. All you see is how much he cares for you, all that he used to do for you and all that he’s more than willing to do now.

You see just how good he is. To you, for you.

And God, how could you ever have been so fucking stupid? So completely, fucking blind?

It all flows through you, every individual atom of your body lighting up and coming alive with your revelation. You love him. More than someone loves their childhood best friend, more than you’ve ever loved a man before. It’s Jeff for you, and it always has been. You were foolish to ever think otherwise.

Jeff’s got no idea what’s going on in that brain of yours, though he often wishes he could read your mind. You look like you’re going through the seven stages of grief all on your own over there, and he wants to reach out and smooth the crease between your brows, but he keeps his hands to himself. If he’s honest, it’s getting harder and harder to do that. To have you so close but not in the way he wants you would be torture to anyone else.

Not to Jeff, though. Jeff just loves you and is appreciative of every piece of you that you’re willing to give him, offering his heart up in return.

His heart stumbles as you turn to face him and cross the space between you in three quick and easy strides. Jeff watches you lose your nerve the closer you get, until you’ve stopped in front of him to throw your arms around him, speaking only the most superficial of your thoughts for now. “Good luck tonight, Jeff.”

The view from the box is a good one, and the girls and families are more than welcoming, even the ones you didn’t meet last night. The large #53 jersey you wear feels a little stiff, and so you find yourself pulling at the collar intermittently all night. It feels like there are eyes on you the whole time, even though you know that’s all but impossible in the privacy of the box.

The game itself is a good one too, which is a blessing in and of itself in the midst of trying times for the team, as Jeff manages to pick up a couple points, including a short handed goal in the second. The entire time you’re flipping between worrying about your feelings and imagining every way things could go wrong, so deep in thought you almost miss the goal.

You’re not sure if you really belong here now, having followed the others down to the locker room hallway. It’s got you picking at the jersey again, wondering if you should take it off or leave it on, if you should stay put or start running. You’re torn almost directly down the middle, with half of you wanting to kiss the life out of your best friend, and the other half wanting to keep this secret buried even harder and longer than it already had.

In the end, your body chooses for you, as you find yourself running into Jeff’s arms the second he’s cleared the locker room. You don’t even take the time to admire his suit for the second time. He’s a giggly albeit confused mess as he catches you, but you don’t even give him time to think as you grab his face in your hands and press your lips to his. It’s a bit of a mess then, as he stumbles forward while whistling and catcalls are thrown around the hallway.

“It’s you, Jeff,” you state after you’ve pulled away to catch your breath, sounding every bit the cheesy romantic love story your life has become, “It’s always been you.”

The grin on his face is worth every bit of pain of the past two years, and his kiss is, too.

+1

It’s a two hour drive from Markham to Buffalo.

But that doesn’t stop your parents and brother from joining Jeff’s family in their trip down to the house you now share with Jeff for American Thanksgiving. It hadn’t worked out for everyone to come down prior to now, and Jeff hadn’t been able to come up for Canadian Thanksgiving last month, and so it’s the first real holiday you’re hosting both families for after agreeing to move in this past summer.

You’re a verifiable mess about the whole thing, starting with a mishap thawing the turkey wherein it wasn’t ready to be tossed in the oven this morning, leaving you to try and make up for lost time at a higher temperature. Earlier, you’d sent Jeff out to grab a pumpkin pie, only for him to return with apple because there ‘wasn’t a single pumpkin pie in all of Buffalo’, which resulted in you frantically trying to bake one with your very limited time.

Jeff, bless him, tries his best to help you in your chaos, but only succeeds in getting himself kicked out of the kitchen - literally as you push his larger body out of the room, while reassuring that you love him, really, but he needs to get the hell out of your way.

It doesn’t really get better, especially as you hear the distinct sound of your mom’s laughter while you’re midway through washing your hair in the shower after finally being persuaded by Jeff to do so. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “I can handle things for a few minutes,” he said. In your panic to finish showering quickly, you nearly blind yourself rinsing your hair, and slip a little as you rush out of the shower.

Everything’s fine, though, when you exit your shared bedroom, fully dressed with hair so wet you’re dripping on the hardwood. Your mom is still laughing, and your dad is smiling, and Jeff’s in the center of it all, regaling your brother with a story from the road. You only slink back to the bedroom to continue getting ready when your mom gives you a pointed look.

Jeff’s family arrives soon after, your home overrun with the energy of his five siblings, but you really and truly wouldn’t have it any other way, especially as Jeff’s hand never leaves your waist. You’re all piled in the living room, laughing and smiling and catching up with one another. It’s a great time, really, even through the chirping and the teasing about you and Jeff ‘finally getting your shit together.’

That is, until the smoke detector goes off and you gasp, “the turkey!”

As it turns out, bumping up the temperature of the oven wasn’t your best and brightest moment. Both of your moms follow you to the kitchen, your mom quickly rushing to the oven to see if anything is salvageable while Jeff’s mom comfortingly wraps an arm around your shoulders, her hand running up and down your shoulder.

It’s stupid, really, the way tears begin to burn at your waterline, but all you had wanted was a nice, perfect Thanksgiving. Maybe that was an unrealistic goal, an unattainable feat, but it’s what you wanted all the same. And it’s definitely silly, but you can’t help but feel the failed meal is somehow a reflection of your relationship, or worse yet, a prediction of your future with Jeff.

After all, if you couldn’t cook a simple turkey dinner, what hope was there for you for the rest of it?

Jeff’s more patient than you, kinder and sweeter too, and yet above all else he’s also more resourceful. A few quick phone calls reveal there’s not a lot of options for delivery on Thanksgiving, and so he settles on pizza before finding you standing in the same spot in the kitchen. Both your moms have settled into a routine of cleaning up your mess, but you’re just kind of standing there looking like someone kicked your puppy.

“Hey,” he says quietly, pulling you into his arms. You go complacently, beyond your desire to be wrapped up in him, you don’t have any energy to do anything but follow his lead. “I ordered food.”

It’s probably meant to be reassuring, but it makes you feel worse, more like a failure than you already do. And so you slump further into his arms, with a muffled ‘I’m sorry’ pressed to his chest. His hand runs through your hair for a moment before cupping your face to make your face tilt up towards his own.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, love,” he tells you earnestly, and truthfully you believe he means every word he’s speaking, but you can’t shake the feeling of failure that has gripped your insides.

“I just wanted things to be perfect,” you whisper, avoiding eye contact.

He just smiles. “They are perfect, the important part is we’re all together. So what the turkey didn’t work out, I know you all had more than your fair share last month. And your pumpkin pies look really good.” His words make you smile in return, and his grin turns triumphant. “There’s that smile I love so much.”

And so maybe Thanksgiving isn’t the grand dinner you’d envisioned. There’s no turkey, and the stuffing and mashed potatoes look out of place next to the several large pizza boxes on the counter. But Jeff’s in your life, and even better yet you’ve let him into your heart, something he has not and will never take for granted. Both of your families are all here together, and neither of your moms are subtle about the way they grin at you and let their eyes flicker to your empty left hand.

It may be a two hour drive from Markham to Buffalo, but there’s not even two inches of space between Jeff and where you’ve fallen asleep against his shoulder while the last of the Thanksgiving football games play on TV.

[ilyasorokinn]

Hey girl, loving this idea, thank you!! May I please request an Instagram edit of your first post as a couple with either Jeff Skinner or Colton Parayko :) can't wait to see all your work!

yourusername

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yourusername so much for swearing off all men.

tagged: @/jeffskinner

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yourbestfriend how to become an influencer, a book by y/n y/l/n.

↳ yourusername lmao 💀

sabreswags she’s so pretty 😍

jeffskinner

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jeffskinner ❤️

tagged: @/yourusername

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fan395 her dog liked it 🥺

yourusername jeff’s in his influencer era 😭

(photos not mine. found on pinterest.)

taylor’s night of neglect!

[holy-puckslibrary]

𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

here's a list of the uploads for this year's fic-mas event, as well as a link to the list of additional ficmas uploads available on patreon.

hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

again, this is a list of ficmas uploads that are available now (or soon-to-be, depending on when you see this post) on tumblr.

if you'd to pursue the content available on patreon (and will remain there exclusively for the time being), please refer to 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

please note the upload date listed for each.

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 ˎˊ˗ 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — nathan mackinnon x claus!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very important, pressing hidden clause in the job contract... 

available DECEMBER 1, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — best friend!jack hughes x reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2.3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays.

available DECEMBER 6, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

available DECEMBER 13, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐅 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —grumpy!erik johnson x sunshine!nanny!reader

𝐰𝐜 — 1.1k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. according to his daughter, erik's return is as disappointing as his staging.

available DECEMBER 20, 2023

read it ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — silverfox!DBF!sidney crosby x reader

𝐰𝐜 — 4.2k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — it may not the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition.

available DECEMBER 25, 2023

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

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

⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

[laurenairay]

For the blurb prompts #12 “So… you didn’t mean to text me?” with Jeff Skinner please.

12 - “So…you didn’t mean to text me?” – Jeff Skinner

914 words.

I’ve missed this smiley sunshine boy – so I hope you enjoyed this one! 💙

*

Mornings were not your favourite thing in the world. That first half an hour after waking up was always a struggle, everything bleary and slow, but at least it was a Saturday morning and there was nowhere you had to be in particular. Picking up your phone to check the time – only 7am? Come on that wasn’t fair – you frowned as you saw a notification you weren’t expecting.

3 messages from: Skinny 💙

What? Why had Jeff sent you three messages? Why had he sent you three messages…at 2am? Fuck, was he okay? You quickly unlocked your phone and clicked on the notification, only for your heart to clench hard in your chest.

~

From: Skinny 💙

UR so betiful

Beatil

Beautiful

~

Your breath hitched in your throat at the words on your phone, the haze of sleep fogging your understanding. Jeff…thought you were beautiful? No, he was clearly drunk. Very drunk, if the spelling corrections were anything to go by.

Even if your heart desperately wanted the words to be true.

No, this was clearly a mistake – maybe a joke, or even the wrong person entirely. Right? Jeff had never even hinted at being attracted to you in public, or even when it was just the two of you…so it was clearly a mistake. Fuck. Why did it have to be a mistake?

He’d sent it at 2am as well, so there was no way he’d been awake now. Fuck. There was nothing else for it. You’d have to play it off as a joke, to save your own heart.

~

To: Jeff

Drink some water when you wake up!

Hope your hangover isn’t too bad.

~

There, that was friendly, right?

Might as well get up properly, now that you were fully awake. There was no chance of you getting back to sleep anyway, not with this madness rolling through your mind.

To be honest, puttering around your house cleaning as well as cooking yourself an indulgent breakfast after doing some yoga really did clear your mind, even just to distract yourself a little bit. There would be a couple of awkward days where Jeff would avoid texting – you could already see it – and then he would get back to normal with a picture of a cute dog he’d seen while out on a run. Everything would be fine. It would.

But when your phone rang, flashing with his name, that your heart sank just that little bit.

Fuck.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey Jeff!” you said as cheerfully as you could.

“Why is the sun so loud?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his groan, the tension in your chest easing ever so slightly. This was a good start, a good sign.

“That might have something to do with whatever you were drinking last night, bud,” you mused.

“Oh God, yeah about that…”

He trailed off with a sigh, and that trepidation crept back into your body. Fuck.

“What about it?” you asked lightly.

“I am so so sorry for texting you. It was inappropriate and so dumb and such a stupid mistake. I get it if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I always want to talk to you,” you murmured, a little helplessly.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t a fucking idiot last night.”

And there it was.

“So…you didn’t mean to text me?” you asked hesitantly.

“Not exactly?”

What? What did he mean?

“I’m going to need more than that,” you sighed.

“You know what they say – drunk words are sober thoughts.”

Well that was one hell of an image, Jeff thinking of you in that way. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Jeff, come on, please?”

He groaned audibly, but you gave him time to gather his thoughts, not trying to push him for something he wasn’t ready to give. Even if you were desperate to hear it, hear anything.

“I’ve liked you for a long time…”

Your breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it. What?

“…and I figured there was no point in doing anything about it because you’re way out of my league, and I value our friendship, you know? But I was out last night with the guys and some of the better halves came out too, and all I could think of was wanting you there by my side. Just didn’t go about it in the best way I guess.”

Holy shit. What a revelation. He meant that? He really meant that? Where had this all come from? How had you not realised any of this before?

“Please say something?”

“Why now?” you asked softly.

“What?”

“Why tell me now, after all this time?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I said it in a stupid text message last night. But I guess drunk me was fed up with holding back.”

“And what about sober you?” you said, still hesitant.

Like he said, drunk Jeff and sober Jeff were very different people, clearly.

“Sober me wishes I was doing this in person so I could see your reactions for myself.”

Fuck. If that was truly what he wanted, then you weren’t going to waste any more time.

“So come over then,” you said simply.

“Really?”

The hope in his voice let you know you’d say the right thing.

“Come over and tell me in person. And maybe I’ll tell you how I feel too,” you said, unable to stop the stupid grin on your lips.

“I’m on my way.”

[ghstandpucks]

Toe Pick ~ Jeff Skinner

Hello! Sorry I have kinda been MIA, I’ve had a lot going on personally lately. This idea came to my head though and I could not pass up writing it! I just love the fact that Jeff was a figure skater lol I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! Enjoy!

Summary: Being partnered with Jeff as a pairs team caused you both to rely on each other at an early age. When life’s ‘toe picks’ come along though, your friendship was tested. And when a toe pick later on throws you back into each others lives, will it be the same?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Master List 

The toe pick at the front of a figure skater’s blade can either create phenomenal moments in a routine, or can bring a skater down. The sharp points can do some damage, but also give the ability to fly when tapped correctly into the ice. You can often hear figure skaters talk about toe picks, and for two kids in particular, saying “toe pick” when they stumbled became a game. On and off the ice, the two were inseparable. That was, until a ‘toe pick’ in life took them away from one another.

Past ~ 2000

           Eight-year-old Jeff Skinner was working on his flying camel, waiting for his coach to get on the ice and start his lesson. It wasn’t just any lesson today though. He was scheduled to meet a new girl who just joined the skating club, one that his coach thought would pair with him perfectly for a pair skating event. Jeff wasn’t so sure about skating with a partner at first, but then after watching a senior skating pair perform, he changed his mind. The throws and different spins that could be done with a skating partner interested him, so he let his coach talk him into it.

He had been told that the new girl had just moved to the area. You were also a single skater with promising talent and a year younger than Jeff. His coach had watched you try out for their skating club, and asked if you would be interested in pairs skating as your showman-like style was almost uncannily the same as Jeff’s. You smiled and nodded, just excited to be accepted into the prestigious club.

           As Jeff stopped what he was doing to look at the clock on the wall, he felt someone run into his back. “Sorry! Toe pick,” a giggle came from behind him. He turned and saw a girl about his age, grinning with a missing tooth off to the side. Jeff laughed to himself.

           “It’s fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had never seen you before, and started to think you may be who he was being partnered up with.

           “I’m fine! I’m Y/N. I just moved here,” you introduced yourself. Jeff smiled, a toothy grin that matched yours.

           “I’m Jeff. Are you skating pairs?” he asked, and you nodded.

           “I was singles, but they asked me to switch when I tried out. I don’t know who I’m partnered with though,” you admitted.

           “I think you might be my new partner…” was all Jeff was able to say before his coach skated over to the two of you.

           “Jeff, I see you’ve already met Y/N. I think you two will get along great. If you’re both warmed up, why don’t we get started with the basics,” Ms. Seale said, and the two young skaters nodded. The next hour was spent learning how to stand and skate in perfect unison, the two kids fitting each other’s speed and style flawlessly, almost as if they were meant to be paired up.

           Three years later, you and Jeff were still skating pairs and about to enter your first junior’s national competition. After taking the ice for your groups warm up, the two of you waited off to the side with your coach running back and forth to see where the order of skaters was at. “Don’t drop me,” you leaned into Jeff as you always did before a performance.

           “You trust me?” he grinned at you, holding out his pinky.

           “Always,” you smiled back, wrapping your pinky around his. Pinky promises became a thing for the two of you when you first started learning lifts. You were nervous, and Jeff promised that he would never drop you. He had always kept that promise, even going as far as breaking your fall with his own body just to keep your trust. Your coach came to get you a few minutes later, and grabbing your hand Jeff led you out onto the ice. You took silver at that competition, the names Jeff Skinner and Y/N Y/L/N becoming known in the competition circuit.

           Two years after that, when Jeff was 13 and you were 12, Jeff hurt himself while doing a double axel. The two of you had just won junior nationals and were working on senior level moves. His injury caused you to pull out of an upcoming competition, the both of you devastated. “I’m really sorry Y/N,” Jeff said one evening as the two of you were doing homework together. Being skating partners had drawn the two of you close together on and off the ice. You trusted Jeff with your life, and may have formed a small crush on him over the years.

           “It’s okay J. It’s just a toe pick in the plan. You’ll heal and we’ll be back out there before you know it,” you tried to reassure him.

           “What if I don’t though?” he asked, worried this injury could be more serious than either of you were thinking.

           “Hey, do you trust me?” you asked, holding your pinky out toward him. He grinned and this time wrapped his pinky around yours.

           “Always.”

           Unfortunately, the injury Jeff sustained took a while to heal. It also caused him to choose between hockey and figure skating. Jeff didn’t want to give up on you, but he also wanted to pursue hockey. You smiled when he told you and supported him the best you could, even though you went home that day and cried your eyes out. How were you supposed to find a new partner? You and Jeff had been skating together for five years at that point, you didn’t want to start over with someone else. You tried though, and eventually found a partner that was compatible enough to compete with. Jeff would ask you how things were going when you saw each other, and you would always lie, saying things were great when really you couldn’t stand your new partner.

           Though the two of you stayed friends for a while, you always going to Jeff’s hockey games and him coming to open skate and competitions for you, you eventually drifted apart when Jeff graduated high school. You couldn’t help but feel like when Jeff traded in his toe picks for hockey skates, he traded you in as well. A few years later you closed the door on your skating career after a particularly bad injury, and the memories were all that was left of the toothless grinning boy you had first met on the ice that one day way back when.

Present Day­

           Take the job in Buffalo they said, you muttered to yourself as once again your socks were all wet from not wearing the proper foot wear and stepping in a puddle on the way to the rink. It had been years since you skated competitively, now being 27. When you graduated high school, you went to college and earned a degree in media, sticking with sports. You mainly stuck around the figure skating circuit, also finding a job as a coach to put yourself through college. A month ago, a job was offered to you at a local news station in Buffalo as their sports reporter, and you jumped at the opportunity.

           When you arrived at the rink, you changed into your tights and leggings. Skating always destressed you, and after settling in to your new place and trying to learn the ropes of the station, you needed some time to unwind. Only a few people were skating, the rink being otherwise deserted as the weather outside wasn’t the kindest at the moment.

           Stepping out onto the ice, a relaxed smile spread across your face. You mindlessly curved on your edges, letting muscle memory take over. Ever so briefly did you let your eyes close, basking in the chill of the air and the sounds of your blades carving through the ice. A moment later though, you were pulled out of your head as your blade caught a particularly deep rivet in the ice, causing you to trip forward on your toe pick. With a squeak you were almost ashamed of leaving your mouth, you fell into the back of a stranger. “Oh my God, I am so so sorry! I caught my toe pick and…” you trailed off as the stranger turned around.

           “Toe picks can be nasty, no worries,” he smiled at you, then stopped himself. It would have been the perfect romcom meet-cute, if the two of you hadn’t recognized each other in an instant. “Y/N?” Jeff asked, not entirely believing you were this beautiful woman who just collided with him.

           “J,” you whispered, shocked as well. “What are you doing here?”

           “I play for Buffalo?” he said, smiling but unsure at the moment. You were honestly the last person he expected to see that morning. Your face went red out of embarrassment. Of course you had followed his career; you knew he was in Buffalo but in the haste of your move you forgot.

           “I knew that,” you mumbled out, and blushed at his chuckle. Why was it after all these years, you could feel your crush resurfacing the second he smiled at you?

           “I’m more curious as to why you’re here?” he asked, leaning on his hockey stick.

           “Just moved actually. I’m a sports reporter now for the local Buffalo news,” you smiled at him and Jeff grinned.

           “No shit!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around him, feeling at home for once in this new city.

           A week had passed and you had talked to Jeff every day of it. What started out as a “How are you settling in?” text, turned into constant messages, a quick phone call, and even a facetime when he was on the road that weekend, with plans made for coffee the following week when he was back.

           That coffee turned into lunch, which turned into Jeff taking you around to a few places and now the two of you were at dinner, having spent the whole day together. The two of you were catching up, and easily fell into your younger selves where physical contact wasn’t a big deal because you were constantly holding hands on the ice. It was as if the years had never passed, and you realized your feelings for Jeff had never truly gone away. He would smile at you, and just like that you were seven years old again running into him your first day at the rink. “Are you working Friday night?” Jeff asked as he drove you home that evening.

           “No, I’m off actually. Why?” you asked. Jeff cleared his throat, seeming a little nervous about what he was going to say next.

           “Would you want to come to my game? I can get you a ticket,” he said, glancing at you quickly. You smiled and nodded.

           “I would love to!” you said, a little too enthusiastically but it made Jeff visibly relax. “You don’t have to get me a ticket though. I can buy one.”

           “No. It’s the first pro game of mine that you’ll be at, I’m getting you a ticket,” he stated, then added, “Don’t argue with me,” as you opened your mouth to do so.

           “Thank you,” was all you said with a giggle. Jeff smiled as you both fell back into an easy conversation.

~ ~ ~

           Friday came and you were being shown to your seat at the arena by an attendant. You thanked him and sat down, waiting for the Sabres to take the ice. Looking around, you twiddled your thumbs at being right up against the glass. What did Jeff do to get you this seat? Before you could second guess coming though, the team took the ice and you immediately found your old skating partner. A few minutes later he locked eyes with you and skated over with a big grin. He tugged on his jersey and pointed at you as you smiled back at him. You had bought a Sabres’ jersey for the occasion, Jeff spotting the 53. Nodding, you turned around slightly to show him the “Skinner” across the back. If Jeff’s grin could get any larger, it would have split his face. Seeing you there at his game, in his jersey, after all these years brought back all the feelings of being young with you; leaning on you; putting his whole trust in you. The Sabres may be his current teammates, but you would always be his first teammate; his first crush; his first love.

           The game was a tough one, the Sabres barely pulling out a win. You were so relieved when the final buzzard sounded. Jeff had asked you to meet him outside the locker room earlier that day, so you made your way there. Standing off to the side, you watched some of the guys spill out to their loved ones, smiling at how familiar it all felt. You remembered in high school when you used to wait for Jeff after his games with his parents.

           A couple minutes later you spotted the slightly curly hair of the man you had grown up with. He grinned as he spotted you, and lifted you into a big bear hug once he got to you. “Congrats J! Good game,” you said into his neck before he set you down.

           “I’m so glad you came,” he said softly, and you blushed under his gaze. “I’m glad you moved here,” he whispered.

           “Me too,” you said under your breath. Jeff was about to say something when your moment was interrupted.

           “You must be the old figure skating partner Jeff won’t shut up about,” the Sabres’ captain Jack Eichel patted Jeff’s shoulder and extended his hand to you.

           “That would be me. Hope it was positive,” you tried to hide your nerves with a joke. Jeff rolled his eyes.

           “Trust me?” he held out his pinky to you like he would when you were younger.

           “Always,” you responded automatically as Jack looked on amused.

~ ~ ~

           After that evening, you went to all of Jeff’s home games that you could. The two of you were also together all the time, practically spending every free moment with each other. Two months later you were curled up into Jeff as you watched a movie at his apartment. You weren’t together, but it was obvious to everyone around you that the feelings were there. Since you were used to being physically close to him, many thought you were already together. The both of you would awkwardly laugh those comments off.

           As the movie credits rolled, you sat up and looked at the time, realizing you should probably get home as it was almost midnight. You started to unwrap yourself from the blanket on top of you when Jeff spoke up. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

           “It’s late J,” you laughed lowly.

           “Exactly. Stay,” he smiled softly, but had a serious look in his eyes. “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled, slightly confused by what he said. Jeff shook his head and sat up.

           “That’s not entirely what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as you took his other hand in yours.

           “Then how did you mean it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his. Jeff sucked in his lips, looking at you thoughtfully.

           “I’ve always felt bad for choosing hockey over you; over being your partner. I felt terrible when you got hurt and I wasn’t around to stop it from happening. When we lost touch, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of reaching out to you, but didn’t cause I was worried it was too late. And now you’re here, and back in my life and I don’t want to make those same mistakes all over again,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

           “I hope you know I don’t blame you for any of that Jeff. You had to do what was best for you, and I’m so proud of you. Life just dealt us some…”

           “Toe picks?” he interjected causing you to laugh.

           “Yeah, some toe picks,” you said softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to lose you again either,” you whispered, and Jeff sent you a smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly, you both leaned in closer to each other, your lips finally meeting. It was everything you ever thought kissing Jeff would be like, and so much more. As you separated, you both had the largest smiles on your faces. Slowly, Jeff stood up and pulled you along with him.

           “Do you trust me?” he asked, sweeping a piece of hair behind your ear. This time you knew Jeff wasn’t teasing when he said those words, he wasn’t just asking because you were worried about him dropping you, but asking because your relationship was about to dive into uncharted territory, and he knew that it would change everything. Though, then maybe it wouldn’t. Being “together” was simple because you had skated together for so long.

           Taking his hand, you nodded. “Always,” you said, meaning it with every fiber of your being. Jeff smiled that brilliant, infectious smile at you, and led you to down the hall to his room. That night you both fell asleep tangle up with each other, and completely in love with this figure skating boy turned hockey player that you had known for what felt like eternity.

[honeyeyesworld]

Let’s do that hockey|| Jack Quinn

(None of the pictures are mine, I found them on Pinterest credits to the original owners)

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Yourusername

Liked by jeffskinner, buffalosabers, and others

Yourusername: ✨I am a photographer and I took these pictures ✨

Good luck tonight boys!! Score goals and stuff. As they say in hockey, let’s do that hockey 🤪

Also should I be worried about Owen taking my boyfriend 🤨

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User1: LMAO NOT THE PICTURE OF OWEN AND PEYTON 💀

jeffskinner: Thank you for capturing all of my good sides 🤝

User2: The best photographer in the nhl 🤩

peytonkrebs: Y/N??

Yourusername: Peyton??

peytonkrebs: what did I do to deserve that picture 😭

User3: idk if I want to be Owen or Jack 😏

jackquinn19: I would never leave you for Owen baby

owenpower_: that’s not you said last night 😏

jackquinn19: shhh 🤫

Yourusername: ???

User5: thank you for blessing us with these pictures 😫

Yourusername

Liked by jackquinn19, dylan.cozens, and more

Yourusername: MY BOYFRIEND SCORED!! 🥳🥳

Good job on the win boys 👏👏 beyond proud of how you guys played today, and congrats to the love of my life for scoring a goal 🥰🥰

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jackquinn19: All thanks to you angel I love you so much ❤️

User7: y’all I was at the game tonight and Jack pointed at her after he scored it was so cute 😭

owenpower_: OUR boyfriend scored thank you very much

jackquinn19: all for you Owen 😘

Yourusername: 🤨🤨🤨

buffalosabers: Thanks to our good luck charm 😉

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( @lvkehvghes )

[sendingmyrevenge]

It’s A Date - Jeff Skinner

A/N: Another fic posted once in a blue moon? You bet! Should I make a part 2 or turn this into a series? 

Warnings: None

Summary: Your youngest brother wanted nothing more than to see his idol, Jeff Skinner, play in person. Because he was born deaf, you come to his aid to translate what was happening and Jeff just happens to notice.

*Quotes in italics is Finn signing

The KeyBank Center bustled with fans covered head-to-toe in navy blue and gold. You were no exception to this, blending right in with the rest of arena.

In half an hour, the Buffalo Sabres will be playing against the Vancouver Canucks.

Today’s game was special for you. Not only was it between your two favorite teams, it was also your youngest brother’s, Finn’s, 9th birthday.

Due to a pregnancy complications, Finn was born deaf. You were 14 and your other brother, Parker, was 13 when your mother became pregnant with Finn. With your mother’s age, everyone knew what risks were to come with the pregnancy. You were just thankful Finn was born as healthy as he could be.

As he grew and entered elementary school, Finn had trouble making friends. None of his classmates knew sign language, so it was difficult to communicate with his peers. The only people he was comfortable around with were his family, especially you and your other brother.

Coming from a hockey-loving family, Finn found the sport as his getaway. You didn’t need to hear to understand the sport. Everything was visual and exhilarating. Finn loved watching the speed of the hockey players skating on the ice. He was mesmerized by their agility and skills, especially Jeff Skinner’s.

The dimpled, 5’11”, brunette haired man who always wore a smile on his face eased his way into Finn’s heart, and ultimately the whole family’s hearts. Jeff meant a lot to Finn. It was a mixture of Jeff’s talents and his bubbly personality that won Finn over.

For Finn’s birthday, your family decided to surprise him with tickets to the Sabres game. When he received the tickets, Finn almost fell out of his seat. He gave everyone the tightest hug he could muster up and would not stop jumping around. He frantically signed “Thank you!” and “This is the best present ever!” The words he mouthed were not up to speed with his hands.

It would be you, Finn, and Parker that would be attending. Your parents stayed home since your family could only afford three tickets, and it was even more costly because of where the seats were.

Now here you were, past security and currently waiting next to the men’s bathroom because Parker didn’t go before you left the house. Finn held onto your hand, rocking back and forth impatiently.

You felt him tug your arm and looked down at Finn. He signed to you, “Can we just leave Parker? I wanna see the warmups!”

You laughed and ruffled his hair. Finn obviously couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. You signed back, “Easy there, bud. We still have a lot of time.”

Finn huffed, but nodded in understanding. Not a moment later, Parker exited the bathroom with a cheeky grin.

“Well that was relieving. I was holding in that doozy the whole ride here.” He spoke to you and also signed so Finn could understand.

“Ugh, I didn’t need to know that.” You grimaced.

“Alrighty then,” Parker rolled down the sleeves to his Eichel jersey. “Wanna get food first and then find our seats?”

Finn furiously shook his head. “Seats now. Food later.”

You and Parker complied. You held your hand out for Finn to hold and followed Parker to your seats. Finn had no clue where you guys would be sitting, and boy was he was in for a treat.

The three of you didn’t have to take that many escalators to get to your lodge. In fact, you only had to go up one floor. Finn’s grip tightened the closer you guys walked to the ice. A smirk creeped onto your face when Parker stopped at the very first row.

“Here we are.” He beamed at Finn. Your seats were right next to the Sabres bench. With the biggest smile on his face, Finn let go of your hand and crashed into Parker to give him another hug.

When they let go and Finn turned to face you, you signed, “What, no hug for me? I’m the one who bought the tickets!” The smile on your face showed that you were only joking. Nevertheless, Finn gave you his infamous bear hug.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Do you guys want anything?” Parker asked.

“Pizza.”

“Fries.”

While Parker went to the concessions, you situated self in your seat and checked your phone. 20 minutes until the game started.

Finn sat in the seat closest to the bench. He looked around in awe, taking in his surroundings. The zamboni made its final lap around the rink, fans unknowingly appeared on the jumbotron, and the refs and linesmen were huddled around the net. The arena seemed so small on the television screen. But in reality, the size was overwhelming.

Occupied with replying to your boss’ email, you didn’t realize the players began skating on the ice. Finn smacked your arm repeatedly to get your attention, pointing at a familiar #53.

“It’s Jeff Skinner! It’s Jeff Skinner!” He signed.

Finn banged on the glass trying to get Jeff’s attention whenever he skated past them. Moments later, Jeff skated towards your area again and stopped. He worked on some puck control techniques while watching his other teammates warm up.

Jeff stood right in front of Finn. Only the glass separated you and Finn from him. All your little brother could do was stare up at him in shock and admiration.

You quickly unlocked your phone to take a photo of the sight and text it to the family groupchat. The photo came out perfectly. Finn had his mouth wide open, looking up at Jeff. Jeff, oblivious to what was going on, had his back turned towards Finn.

Being the amazing big sister you were, you pounded on the glass in hopes of gaining Jeff’s attention. Fortunately, it worked. Jeff turned around and waved. The smile on his face deepened when he saw you.

Your heart skipped a beat. He was more attractive in person and his dimples made him even more adorable. What could you say, sometimes a girl’s gotta fangirl.

“It’s my little brother’s birthday. It would make his day if he got a puck!” You screamed over the music.

“Of course!” Jeff smiled. He picked the puck up with his stick and threw it over the glass. You caught it with ease, handing it to a starstruck Finn.

Finn snapped out of his daze, hugging the puck close to him. You thanked Jeff on behalf of Finn, hugging your brother close to your side in glee.

“It’s no problem.” Jeff stated. “How old are your turning, bud?”

You translated Jeff’s question to Finn, and he held up nine fingers.

“Oh... Is he deaf?” He asked upon seeing your hand gestures.

“Yeah he is. But he loves watching hockey, especially his favorite team.” You replied.

“Ah, I see. Who’s his favorite player?”

“That would be you! You’re his idol.”

Jeff’s face reddened upon hearing your answer. He held his gloved fist against the glass, motioning for Finn to give him a fist bump.

“Thanks, buddy. That means a lot.” You translated his words to Finn. He fist bumped Jeff and signed, “Can you sign my jersey?”

“He wants to know if you could sign his jersey.”

“For sure! How about after the game, you meet in the locker room? I can give him a tour. Meet some other players too.”

“Oh my gosh, that would make his entire year!” You beamed. You couldn’t wait to give Finn the news.

“What’s your name so I can tell security?”

“Y/N L/N. And this is my brother Finn!”

“Y/N. Finn. Got it.”

Your name rolled easily off of Jeff’s tongue. Jeff could finally put a name to your face and he would be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive.

“I gotta go, but security will come and get you after the game. Bye Y/N! Happy birthday, Finn! Wait... you’ll translate what I said to him, right?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Jeff was never in this situation before, but he wanted to make sure Finn knew what he said.

You let out a laugh. “Of course.”

“Okay great. Well, enjoy the game!” He waved at the two of you and skated away.

The people sitting in the seats around you stared at you with wide eyes. Oh, how they wish they had gotten a player’s attention.

Finn looked up at you with curious eyes. He really wanted to know what you and Jeff were talking about. You signed to him everything Jeff said and Finn’s reaction was well worth it.

Parker came back with the food and drinks, annoyance lingering on his face. “The damn mustard packet exploded and it got on my jersey.” He placed the trays on the ground now able to sign so Finn could be included in the conversation. “So, did I miss anything?”

---

Throughout the game, Finn would wave at Jeff whenever he sat down on the bench and he’d always wave back. Other players waved at him as well and you caught it all on video. You couldn’t wait to show your friends the adorable sight. You caught Parker up on everything he missed and he wouldn’t shut up about it. “Next time you’re getting the food and I’ll woo the players.” He joked. 

The game ended in OT with Jeff scoring the winning goal. Everyone was leaving the arena in happy spirits while the three of you were escorted to the locker room doors by security. Finn was on Parker’s back, trying hard not to fall asleep because the post-game interviews were taking too long. When Jeff walked out of the locker room showered and dressed in his finest suit, you had to do a double take. The black on black suit was doing miracles to him. 

“Sorry about that. Sometimes the press likes to hold us up with useless questions.” He glanced at Parker and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jeff. And you are?”

“I’m their brother Parker and a big fan of yours. You game-winning goal was amazing!” So much for him playing it cool. 

“Thanks man. It means a lot.” He smiled sheepishly.

Jeff then turned to you. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” He shook your hand longer than he had done with Parker, smiling gently. 

“Likewise.” You blushed. 

Finn jumped down from Parker’s back, now fully awake. His presence caused you and Jeff to separate. 

“Finn, my man! Did you like the game?” Jeff crouched down to Finn’s level and gave him a hug. When they separated you translated to Finn, who nodded his head vigorously. 

After all the formalities, Jeff led you guys inside the locker rooms with Finn holding his hand. He introduced the team to Finn and they all gave him hugs and fist bumps. Parker was with them to translate while you stayed back to take photos. 

As Eichel was helping Finn try on his jersey and gear, Jeff took the opportunity to walk over to you. 

“Hey,” He stood next to you with his hands deep in his pockets. You greeted him back. The both of you watching Finn laugh at something Jack did. 

“You’re an amazing sister, you know.” Jeff spoke up.

“Thanks, I’d do anything to make him happy.” You blushed. “He’s idolized you even when you were with the Canes.” Now it was Jeff’s turn to blush. 

“Finn has us all wrapped around his fingers already. He’s a special kid.”

“Yeah. He has that effect on people.” You laughed. 

“Um... if it’s alright with you, I’d like to invite Finn to one of our practices and get him on the ice with us.” You stared at him gobsmacked. Jeff was already doing so much for Finn. You didn’t expect him to go out of his way again - not that you were complaining. 

“Of course! Finn would love that so much!” You gushed. 

The two of you exchanged numbers so you could plan out the details. 

“I hope you’re not a crazy fan who’ll sell my number.” He joked. 

“Aw man, you got me. Guess I won’t be paying off my student loans tonight.” You nudged him. Jeff threw his head back and laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, and you subconsciously leaned into him for support. 

When the laughs started to die down, he cleared his throat noticing how close the two of you were. You stepped back embarrassed and apologizing, but his dimpled smile appeared on his face again to let you know it was fine. 

“So, um. Uh...” Jeff looked down at his shoes, trying to find the right words.

“Do you think we can get together before Finn comes to our practice so you can teach me some basic sign language? It’s cool if you can’t. I mean, I just thought it would be nice if I can talk - I mean sign - to him so he can feel right at home. You’ll still be there to translate, of course. So I guess we don’t need to meet up...” 

You let him ramble on. The extra length Jeff was willing to go to for your brother made your heart melt. It was truly one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen.

“If you want, we can meet up during my lunch breaks any day you’re free. It would make Finn’s day if you could learn a little bit of sign language.” You offered. His face broke out into a relieved smile. 

“Great! I’ll text you when I’m free and we can start from there.” He beamed. 

“It’s a date.” You confirmed, smiling widely. 

Jeff mirrored your expression. “I guess it is.”

He gave you one final look and walked back to Finn, ready to show him more of the arena.

[ohpuckit]

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✦ 𝐣𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

Authors Note - I’m really happy how this turned out (I think) lmao. Also this song is I Would Die For You by Miley Cyrus because I literally would die for Jeff Skinner. 

There have been times when I'm up all night / Crying in the dark, so I sleep with the light on

Another night with Jeff away. Nights were never easy for you. You fell asleep around midnight, but was awoken from a nightmare. Actually, this nightmare reoccurs every time Jeff is away. Sitting up in bed while turning the bedside light on, you reach for your phone. Finding Jeff’s number, you call him. You doubt that he would pick up since he has to go to bed early for him game tomorrow. 

“Hey, this is Jeff!”

Sighing as you get his voicemail. You knew you shouldn’t be sad about this. You understood and supported his career. You decided to leave him a voicemail. Jeff always called you every time he wakes up when he’s on the road. 

“Hi Jeff. I miss you. I had the nightmare again. I know you’re asleep, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure we’ll talk before your game, but I just wanted to say good luck. Anyways, it’s getting pretty late. I miss you a lot. I love you bub.”

Jeff knew about the reoccurring nightmare you get. It’s always about him leaving you or him cheating on you. He always reassures you that it will never happen and he will love you no matter what. You a hundred percent believe him, but this nightmare keeps coming back. You always called Jeff when the nightmare happens and Jeff always believes that you go back to sleep after you hear his voice. You never do. Your mind keeps replaying the dream over in your head and you keep overthinking. It always leads you to crying yourself to sleep, forgetting about the light that you turned on. 

But you are everything to me

When Jeff got traded to Buffalo, you were excited. Obviously, you were upset with the trade but you were excited for a new adventure. You had some family friends up there so it made the move a little bit easier for you and Jeff.  

You and Jeff sat across your best friend, Olivia, and her boyfriend, Garrett. You all were having dinner together at Buffalo Wild Wings. You hand rested on Jeff’s right knee while his right arm is wrapped around your waist. You were all catching up and talking while waiting for your food. 

Olivia had a big smile on her face. “We have some news… We’re engaged!!”

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations you guys! Let me see the ring.” You said excitedly. 

Jeff smiled at the happy couple and said, “Congratulations! Can’t wait for the wedding guys.” 

You were admiring the ring on Olivia’s finger while Jeff looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

Once you got back to you apartment, you couldn’t stop talking about Olivia and Garrett’s future wedding. You grabbed some white wine and two wine glasses from the kitchen and sat yourself down next to Jeff on the couch. 

Pouring yourself some wine, Jeff speaks up and says, “We’ll get married in the future. I know it.”

You stopped pouring you wine, surprised. You and Jeff had been together for a long time, but never talked about the future. Sure, you imagined it, but you didn’t want to bring up the conversation first. 

“Yeah? I would love to be married to you.” You said smiling at him as you took a sip of your wine. 

“And I would love for you to be Mrs. Skinner. I can’t imagine you not being in my life. I love waking up to you. I love falling asleep with you. I love how you wait up for me when I come home from games. I love how you support me. I love every little thing you do. I love you. You are everything to me.”

I am yours, and you are mine

After getting back to your hotel room, you ran and jumped on the bed. Jeff giggled and jumped right beside you. You just got back from sight seeing on your honeymoon in Greece. After the conversation you had with Jeff about marrying him, he proposed to you 6 months later. Then a year later, you’re finally married. 

“Today was amazing, but I am exhausted. I think I need a nap.” You said as you leaned up to take off your shoes. 

Jeff following your movements, he said, “I’m right with you. How about we take a nap and then have a nice dinner. Does that sound good bub?”

“Sounds perfect.” You said as you snuggled up next to your husband in bed. “I love you Mr. Skinner.”

He kissed your forehead and said, “I love you too Mrs. Skinner.”

And like the grass, I've watched us grow

You were standing in the hallway waiting for Jeff to come out. Buffalo had a home game against Dallas. Buffalo lost 3-2 and you knew how Jeff was whenever they lose. You were chewing on your thumb nail, a habit you do when you get nervous, as you leaned up against the wall. Some of the other wives and girlfriends already left because most of the players came out. You decided to sit down on the floor since you stood on your feet the entire game. You knew Jeff was beating himself up in the locker room and all you wanted to do was cheer him up. 

Closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wall, you heard footsteps coming closer to you. You already knew it was Jeff walking towards you. You open your eyes and get up slowly. Jeff reached out for your hand to hold. You interlocked your hands and gave him a soft smile. During the car ride home, you tried playing an upbeat song to lighten the mood. When you realized that he wasn’t going to sing along, you changed to a slow song and started humming along. 

Jeff went straight to the bedroom when you got back to your shared apartment. Locking the door and taking your shoes off, you followed him to the bedroom. Once you entered the room, you saw Jeff sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. You could tell that he wasn’t crying, but he was close. You sat next to him and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. You kissed his shoulder trying to get him to open up a little bit. Jeff turned to you and hugged you tight while putting his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Please don’t beat yourself up over this game. It hurts me to see you sad. You played amazing.”

“No, I didn’t. I let the team down.”

“Hey, you did not let the team down. You gave it all you could. I know the next game, you will beat them. You have so many people who believe in you. Your fans believe in you. Your teammates and coaches believe in you. Your family believes in you. I believe in you. You have to believe in you. Win or lose, I will always support and believe in you. I love you.” You said as you kissed him. 

“I love you. I wish you had some exciting news so I can forget tonight.”

“Actually, I do.”

Jeff looks at you confused.

“I’m pregnant.”

[aereres]

GUESS WHO MADE ANOTHER QUIZ Y'ALL-

"Answer some questions and I'll give you a NHL player and a trope" LINK IN THE NEXT REBLOG BBY